“Well, you two look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Eryn commented on entering the barn.

I broke from Rafe’s embrace and glanced up at her.

After a bit of hesitation, Shae entered as well. There was no bounding towards me this time. Her approach was far more careful.

I smiled gently and extended a hand towards her, terrified that she would not take it, that she would not dare to get close to me again.

Rafe stood up and took a step back to give me space.

Hesitant, shuffling steps brought Shae past Eryn. Then she broke into a run and tackled me to the ground. I laughed at the girl sitting on top of my chest, grabbed hold of her shoulders, pulled her close, and rolled sideways. Despite her weight, despite this little girl secretly being bigger than me, I managed to pull myself to my knees again with her still in my arms.

“Still not scared of me?” I asked her, feeling especially daring.

She hesitated, squirmed in my arms, scrunched up her nose, and glanced down with a finger pressed to her bottom lip.

I could feel the acceleration of her heartbeat through our touch, taste the tinge of fear in her scent. This was a no. Just a week ago she had callously grabbed on to my claws. Now there was trepidation.

Even still, I held out hope. I can’t bring myself to kill my daughter’s friend. That was what Onar had said. My daughter’s friend. Those three simple words carried my hope that Shae would still consider me her friend. Even now, after all that had happened. And so I waited, until she was ready to answer.

“Still not scared of you,” she offered eventually, bravely looking me in the eyes.

“Liar.” I pouted and tweaked her nose. The sudden gesture did not startle her as hard as I thought it would.

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” she conceded with a little frown and one eye half-closed. She latched on to my wrist and pulled my hand down away from her nose. Instead of letting go, she traced her fingers up my glove and began prodding at the leather covering my fingers, until she found the spot where my fingers stopped and my claws began.

“Good, that’s at least one sensible person in this entire town.” I watched her prod at my glove-covered claws with bemusement. I should probably have berated her for that. I had promised myself I would not allow any more weird claw-fetish behavior. I did not interrupt her because this cautious, determined examination was a tremendous improvement over the complete disregard for her own safety she had displayed a week ago.

When I looked up at the two adults, they were staring at the strange display with an equal mix of wariness and awe. “It’s fine,” I reassured them. “I won’t let her hurt herself.”

My commentary made Shae aware of the audience her strange fascination with my monstrous side had attracted. With a little gasp, she let go and twisted to look behind her, at Eryn and Rafe.

“Ignore them.” I pulled Shae in a fresh embrace. “They’re just jealous.”

Resting the back of her head on my chest she looked up at me. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” she whispered, voice laden with regret.

“Yeh.” I nodded, closed my eyes, and laid my chin on her forehead.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“No fair.” Shae pouted. “I barely got to talk to you.”

“I’ve got to sweety.” I sighed. “Someone left a bounty in Rivenston. Something about a monster attack in Birnstead. Figured I’d go and claim it.”

“Let someone else claim it,” she stated with stubborn determination.

I hugged her tighter in response, and let her relax like that in my arms a little while longer. Rafe and Eryn left us alone. A moment of peace, stolen out of time. A moment where only the now mattered. A moment where I hoped she would not need to think about me abandoning her, did not need to think about how her dad hated that she hung out with me.

She was only twelve, yet was caught up in this harshest of reality, because stupid old me had chosen their barn to sleep in that one night six months ago. In a moment she would need to return to her life, face reality. So before she did I granted her every last second of reprieve I could. I let her rest in my arms as I stroked her back.

A tendril of Metzus, a tendril of me, nearly snaked its way out of my puppet body before I could reel it back. I longed to let it out. So longed for it. But still I could not. I wanted to hug her. Wanted to really hug her. Not as my puppet body but as the real me. I could not. Not ever. This fake puppet-hug would have to do.

This was why my dad did not like hugging me, especially when I was upset or angry. This was part of why I had a no-hugging rule. Too dangerous, too risky. It was even why I vowed to never ever use this as a weapon. If I ever manifested my true self outside of my body, even if by just the tiniest of accident, if I touched…

These tendrils of Metzus energy I used to puppet this body, they were what I really was. They were me. If I tried to touch someone with them, If I ever tried to touch someone for real, it would be just like my near-accident when scoping out Uncle Tare’s injuries. Any more than the tiniest hint of Metzus and the human body melted, decomposed, in exactly the same way my puppet-vessel rotted away under the Tonaltus rays of the sun.

Maybe there was a way around it, some kind of runic crafting that could be applied to an amulet, something that provided Metzus protection like my amulet provided Tonaltus protection. If there was, it was yet another Ostean secret, one I was not privy to. I could not even figure out how to replicate the runes on my amulet. Too advanced. Too complex. Probably intentionally so. The crafting of them was yet another secret the Ostean Inquisition kept close. If I ever lost my amulet I would be dead. No replacing it, not here on this continent.

In my arms, Shae stirred. One careful move after another she pieced her way out of my embrace. The hurt was there again in her eyes. Hurt. Not maturity. The maturity was only a mask, just like mine. How I had ever mistaken the two I could not tell.

Before she could fully slip away I grabbed hold of her shoulders. She looked my way, a worried frown plastered on her face as I sought her eyes. It pained me to do this, but there would be no better moment than now. It was just the two of us now, and that gave me the greatest chance of success.

“When you came over to the bunkhouse, you knew your dad would come after you, didn’t you?” I asked her.

She tensed under my hand.

“You knew he’d be angry, right?” I kneaded her shoulder to let her know it was alright, that I wasn’t angry with her.

Even with my reassuring touch, she tried to get away.

“Would you like to know how that made me feel?” I asked her, stroking her hair for comfort, then bringing the back of my hand against her cheek.

She sniffled.

I told her, because despite everything I trusted this little girl with my hurts. Because secretly I hoped it would bring her to trust me with hers in turn. Because it was the only way I could think of that would maybe get her away from pitting me and her dad against each other.

The more I spoke, the more I was reminded of my own dad. He had spent hours like this with me. Days. Weeks. Every little thing he did, everything that happened around us, he had provided me with a running commentary of how it made him feel. Years he kept that up. Years and years.

That was how much patience he had with me. That was how long it took me just to get an inkling. That was how long it took me to even begin to understand that feeling was more than the sensation of touch on your skin. It was the way the world touched an intangible thing deep inside you.

It took me longer still to start pretending to have those same feelings. Close to a decade to get the illusion right. Another decade to sometimes forget I was only pretending. I was a vampire. I did not feel. So why did not feeling hurt so much? So why was I talking about feelings to this little girl?

“Please don’t let go,” Shae pleaded when I was done, nestling herself a little deeper in my arms.

I won’t.

I sighed.

Stupid town.

Shae and Meg both treating me like family.