“Gods, you think anyone heard us?” Nebby gave up on sitting, flopped down onto the ground again, rolled onto her back, and spread her arms wide. “Someone put my boots back on. I don’t think I can manage.”

“Don’t think so. No one is approaching at least.” I strained my senses, listening, tasting, verifying for the seventh or eighth time that no one was coming up.

Nebby’s shrieks of laughter while we had tickle-tortured her had been rather high-pitch. And loud. And could just as easily be interpreted as tormented shrieks of despair right before she was mauled by a vampire. And I knew that wasn’t a paranoia-induced exaggeration on my part. When I had first pinned her down her terror had absolutely saturated the clearing, drowning out every other scent.

I could have been tempted so easily. When I had rolled to protect her, her neck had been inches from my fangs. A single wrong twitch on her part and I might have sunk my teeth into her. I had not. Pure luck. And my claws. I had not even thought of those, what they would have done to her. This was a bad game. A dangerous game. A—

Gaaaah! Why do I still think it’s fun?

Shae stopped trying to twist Nebby’s foot into a shoe and threw me a pointed glare. “Hold on. If you can tell that… you knew I was back there?”

“Really? Vale knew?” Nebby asked. “So not fair! You two planned this from the start. This is a conspiracy.”

I lazily waved a hand in their direction. “Shae wasn’t exactly being stealthy.”

She had been. Stealthy. At least for a kid. Sneaky enough that someone distracted, like Nebby, wouldn’t have possibly noticed. Not that remaining hidden from an inattentive person was a particularly hard thing to do. Humans were astoundingly unaware of their surroundings for a prey species.

Nebby poked her toes into Shae’s stomach. “Don’t listen to her. I didn’t hear you, so you totally were. Vale’s blind. Probably has those crazy good blind people's ears to compensate.”

I huffed. Blind people's ears? Right. I should probably be annoyed that Nebby had shared one of my closely guarded secrets like that. It was a weakness. Something that could be exploited if people knew about it. But… I liked the sound of blind people's ears more than vampire ears. It almost made me wish that things could be that simple. That I could just be the poor unfortunate blind person in town, instead of the horrible monster.

Without warning, Shae sat down in my lap, facing me. She brought her face close to mine and peered into my eyes. “You never told me you were blind?”

“Only in direct sunlight. I can see fine now that it’s dark.” I grunted, trying to shift into a position that was more comfortable with her considerable weight on top of me. A little further away from the arteries in her neck. I could not let her sitting on me become a habit. “Shae, you’re heavy… bigger than me.” I winced as I forced the admission of the uncomfortable truth past my lips.

You’re only twelve, half my age and still I’m shorter than you.

And you’re too close and looking a predator in the eyes and I haven’t eaten in too long and this isn’t safe.

Her gaze dropped down to her hands in her lap. Disappointment.

“I’m sorry. You’re not fat,” I blurted out. “It’s me. I’m not good with people being close to me.”

I’m not safe!

I shouldn’t stay here.

I should be running.

And just like that, my thoughts snapped back to my predicament. I had let the moment get away from me. Foolishly, I had allowed a short moment of indulging Nebby to stretch into an entire evening. It was after dark. A whole chunk of moonlight that I could have used for running, gone. I could not do this. I could not do this friends thing. I couldn’t stay.

“Daddy’s alright with it. He’ll stay away from the Inquisitors.”

What?

I steadied myself with one hand on the ground as I used the other to tug the shoddy remains of my braid loose. After the day I’d had and then the tussle just now there was little of it left that still properly resembled a hairstyle. It needed a good rebraiding, and — I pulled a leaf out of the tangles of my hair — some twig and leaf removal as well. It was something to occupy myself with while I processed Shae’s revelation.

Not-quite-yeast Onar was fine with me staying?

He was going to stay away from the Inquisitors instead of betraying me?

“Vale?” Shae prompted me when I didn’t reply. “This is good news right, Vale?”

It was almost certainly not. This was some kind of plot. Onar totally would report me. He merely didn’t want to tell his daughter. I was only losing time, making this worse. And now I was even making it harder on Shae.

Nebby sat down to the right of me and leaned her shoulder against mine. “You could have run, you know. As soon as you learned, back in Rivenston, you could have run. By the time the Inquisitors get here, we would have no idea where you’d headed to. You care for us, more than you care for yourself, I think. Don’t think we don’t notice.” She put an arm around me, and pulled me close to her. “Now let us look out for you too.”

“But I’m a monster.”

“You’re our friend,” Nebby squeezed my arm. “See if I care about anything else.”

Shae prodded Nebby’s shoulder. “Who are you, and what have you done to the Nebster?” Then she turned around in my lap, nestled herself against me, and pulled my arm around her.

I sighed. The worst part, I didn’t even mind Shae settling herself so close to me. Didn’t even feel that familiar urge of fresh blood too close quite as strongly as I usually did.

Shae pinched my fingers, and before I could pull away, peeled off the glove on my right hand. She passed my freed hand on to Nebby who, with only the barest hesitation, twined her fingers around my claws. Then, Shae took off my left glove as well and took that hand in hers. “Friends,” she proclaimed with a gentle squeeze.

Nebby squeezed my hand as well. But there was a little shiver that went through her along with it. At first, I worried her reaction was discomfort at having the brutal parts of me so near and on display. But then she wrapped her second hand around mine and futilely began rubbing some warmth into my fingers.

I squeezed Nebby’s hand in turn, wondering how much of herself the older girl kept hidden from everyone else. How much of it I had been allowed to witness tonight? Then I gripped Shae’s hand more firmly as well and stopped worrying at all.

Friends.

My friends.

----------------------------------------

Early the next morning, long before dawn, I snuck out of the bunkhouse and disappeared between the trees. I had brought nothing. No crossbow. No blade. Just me and… me. Once I was deep enough in the forest that no one would find me, I took off my gloves and shoes, dug a little cache for them in the hollow under a tree root, and marked the spot.

I stood, nose in the air, inhaling the forest around me. As my instincts directed me towards prey, I let go of everything human that no longer mattered. No more pretending, no act or mimicry. I returned to being only myself.

I hunted.

Another blood-drained carcass landed on the pile with a fleshy thud that was loud and silent all at once now that everything alive had fled with my slaughter. My head swiveled in the direction of a scent trail. Many of the rabbits had escaped when I had descended on their warren, exactly as I had intended them to. A hunt was so much better when there was a chase. I lowered myself to the ground and took in the full bouquet of terrified runaway prey, ready to give chase once more.

One had fled through some brambles. Another two had darted down a slope. And I… I slammed a fist into the ground, gave up on the hunt, and collected my amassed prey with an angry snarl. This indulgence was senseless. It was futile and needless and foolish and not enough. Three caught in the initial strike, and two ran down afterward were not enough. I needed more. Simply the thought of halting the hunt was making me twitchy and there was still prey out there that I could catch. But I had fed. I was sated. If the five I had caught already weren't enough, then nothing would be.

When I got back shortly after dawn, Eryn and Nebby were in the bunkhouse kitchen, preparing food. Their presence was unmistakable to me now, even from outside the building. I had stopped clamping down on my senses and had given up on pretending I only had a normal human nose. Someone would probably figure out soon now that I always knew where everyone was. But they all knew so much about me already that I was beyond caring.

I entered Eryn and Rafe’s living quarters without passing through the common room first, so that I could ignore the people enjoying their breakfast. Some of them — mostly Nebby’s parents — I did not want to face right now. Eryn seemed slightly bemused when I handed her five blood-drained rabbit carcasses. Nebby was in awe. I wasn’t comfortable with either reaction, so I only stayed long enough to ascertain that Nebby hadn’t suffered too much for last night.

Outside again, a quick taste of the air confirmed that it was still early enough for the riverside logging spot to be mostly deserted. Onar was not there. Nebby’s parents were still having breakfast. None of the other people that had been upset with me last night were there either. I cautiously navigated the debris of the logging activities and straddled the remains of a felled tree. While twisting and tugging at a half-broken branch, I observed Gery and Rafe setting up for the day’s work.

Eventually, Rafe paused to talk to me. “You alright, Girl?”

“Please don’t,” I begged him. “I just want to sit for a moment.”

Even his simple question was a too-raw reminder of last night. They had promised they would keep me safe. Nebby had said as much. Shae had confirmed it. So many of them, like Rafe and Gery, believed these words. Last night had confirmed that these promises were as empty, hollow, and unreliable as the humans themself.

The animosity after I — a dangerous monster — returned with Nebby and Shae long after dark had proven that they still did not trust me. I should have fled last night. I had done so, but I should not have let Reya drag me back, not in the middle of the night when she had no way to stop me. I should have tried to run off a second time, as soon as Reya was no longer nearby enough to notice. I should have left before dawn this morning.

I should not be smiling now, at how Reya had ranted at me — but mostly at all the scared and worried villagers that had stayed up late thinking two kids were in mortal danger — that I was the most dangerous thing in a hundred-mile radius and that Nebby and Shae had never been safer out in the woods than with me.

A last twist. With a crack and a tear, the branch came loose from the trunk. I bent the stick until I could hold both ends between the thumb and fingers of a single hand. Until I could feel the strain of the wood fighting a hopeless, losing battle.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The morning breeze told me Nebby’s parents had exited the bunkhouse. I tightened my grip. Wood cracked, snapped, fell to the ground. I fled the riverbank. A quick detour through the woods on my way back to the bunkhouse was an easy method of avoiding that annoying confrontation.

Reya was with Nebby, in Eryn’s living quarters. To avoid her I headed for the common room entrance. Unfortunately, I was still blind and took too long to feel out the door. That was the exact moment Reya left Nebby and Eryn. I hoped she would ignore me. I was about to enter through this door. She had just come out of the other door. We had no reason to talk to each other. None at all.

Reya thought differently and called me over. “Hey, Vale!”

I stayed where I was, leaned my head and shoulder against the door in exasperation, but did not bother to look at her. “Yes?” I croaked at the lesser annoyance.

“Eryn told me you went hunting.” She held up one of my rabbits. “You know we’ve got chickens, right?”

“Urrr…” I replied incoherently. Chickens were the worst prey. Tame chickens, handed to me, were even worse. There was no hunt. There was no chase. There was no point.

“You know, we could give them to you when we’re about to eat them and need to drain the blood.”

I shook my head. No. No. Really no. I did not need random people feeding me like I was some kind of stray dog. This was a tiny little place. They probably did not have enough chickens to feed me. This was probably another way for Reya to invite me for dinner. Some way to make me dependent, a way to get me to stay.

And wait… when did people figure out I drank blood anyway? I never told anyone. I did not need humans thinking about that. That made it gross and disgusting and visceral and ewww.

“Fine. You like hunting more than my chickens. Doesn’t mean you need to make all kinds of faces because of it. Just let me know when you change your mind.” Reya waved me off and left.

I huffed.

Not making faces.

And not going to change my mind on this.

Shortly before lunch hour, Shae found me. Or more specifically, I was in my room, and she loitered in the common room until I came down. Soon after, Nebby snuck out of the kitchen to join us.

“You can teach us, right?” Shae asked.

I groaned and let my head sink down to the table. There was a spill. Ale. I dragged a gloved finger through it, trailing liquid across the surface in lazy half-circles. I still could not figure out where Shae had gotten this mad idea that I would teach her magic.

The door to Rafe and Eryn’s living quarters opened. Eryn’s voice wafted in through the gap. The chicken broth woman pushed Reya out of her kitchen and into the common room. “No. You already got the rabbit. No more handouts. Now leave my kitchen.”

“Please teach us?” Shae and Nebby chorussed.

“Teach what?” Reya leaned over the table and studied my Ale-spill markings.

“Magic!” Nebby said. “Vale is going to teach us magic.”

“Nebs!” Eryn called from the door. “Stop slacking off and get back here.”

“You can actually teach people magic?” Reya asked.

“No. I can’t,” I explained. “Not like this. Shae just thinks I can. Learning magic isn’t something you do in a day. It takes study. Practice. Time. I can’t just give you magic or something.”

“I have time,” Shae said.

I swallowed a growl. I very carefully — no claw marks — took hold of the table, shoved my chair back, hopped down from it, and hissed out, “I don’t.”

I pulled open the door and stormed out, finally understanding why I was so restless. They did not get it, but I now did. I had no time. I had days, maybe. They were people and I was a monster and they would betray me because that’s how things are.

I’m stuck here.

Trapped.

Caught, like prey waiting for the slaughter.

And I should not feel so much and should be able to leave and to say goodbye and to…

I rushed into the stables, located a brush, and set to work combing and brushing my horse. I took a long time, brushing and hugging and grooming Fern in intervals. When I was finally done, I pulled the tattered blanket from Fern’s back, and retreated to my room. Ignoring Nebby that had claimed my bed as if it were a throne, I huddled down in the least sun-lit corner, wrapped the old blanket around my shoulders, and inhaled. It smelled like Fern now. All Fern and nothing else. But the memory was there, and that was enough.

A dark shadow settled over me as Nebby got up from the bed and positioned herself in between the window and my corner. She waited patiently until I stopped seeking comfort in my blanket and acknowledged her presence.

“Mind if I join you?” Nebby asked. She lifted her arms, spread the bedding she carried like a cape wide, sat down beside me, and draped the thing over both our shoulders. “Still worried, huh?” she asked me.

I did not answer her.

“You know what always helps? Planning it out.” Nebby continued as if I had answered. “Where do you think the Inquisitors will come from? The road?”

I sighed. The easiest way to get rid of her would be to play along. “No. The river. They need to check the riverbanks so there’s no point in taking the road.”

“Alright. Need to keep Onar away from the river then. That should be doable. Anyone else we should keep from meeting the Inquisitors?”

Your parents.

I gave Nebby a tortured stare.

Leave me alone.

“Come on. I’m certain you can think of someone.”

I groaned but did give the question some serious thought. “The kids,” I answered after I had mulled it over. “Meg’s little gremlin won’t stop talking about the demon lady with the claws.”

Nebby snorted. “Meg’s little gremlin?”

“I mean Ari,” I corrected hastily.

“I know you mean Ari. If you think she’s a gremlin on her own, wait until you see her together with Dune.” Nebby sighed a loud, exasperated sigh. “Divines, those two together are an absolute menace.”

I pursed my lips. It was better than laughing. Being amused did not fit my mood, so I refused to show a smile.

“Sooo… okay. No kids. That’s smart. Wouldn’t have thought of that.” Nebby elbowed me. “See. Planning it out is helping already. You think the Inquisitors will stay here long? Stay the night?”

“No,” I said. “Maybe. Depends on how late they get here, I guess. If they still have daylight left when they’re done here, they’ll probably continue on.”

“Hmmm…” Nebby tapped a finger on my knee, considering her next question.

“You’re trying to cheer me up. Did Rafe set you up to this? Eryn?” I interrupted her with my own question.

Nebby smirked. “Maybe?”

I frowned at her. Maybe Eryn had tasked her with this. It tasted like the kind of thing Eryn would do. Or maybe Nebby had merely suggested to Eryn that she help like this, knowing it would get her out from some far less interesting job.

Nebby quickly shut down my digging into her motivations with another question. And another one. I wasn’t going to admit it, but it did make me feel more at ease, the planning. Over the course of an afternoon, we worked out strategies for dealing with the Inquisitors, talking through as many eventualities as we could.

I even considered the outline of some fallback options, in case the Inquisitors did find out about me. Ruses and measures that would keep me alive if the worst happened. I did not tell Nebby about those. It would only worry her, after that evening on the overlook. It still unnerved me, the things I had thought of back then, so I took pains to minimize casualties. The only thing unnecessary corpses would get me was an even bigger manhunt.

I did not return to the riverbank. Not that day. Not the days after. Inquisitors were coming, and I felt vulnerable and exposed near the river, waiting for them. I barely even went out. Inquisitors were coming, and I didn’t feel safe outside. Despite the planning Nebby and I had done that should ease my mind, I barely left the room. Inquisitors were coming, and I simply could not shake the feeling that I might die because I was too dumb to leave.

On the third day of my self-imposed isolation, Lovelorn-excited-nervous-firebird Rafe knocked on my door.

“Come in,” I called out, resigned.

I didn’t bother opening the door for him. It was his bunkhouse, there were no locks on the doors, he could come in on his own, and I needed every last second of comfort my blanket nest could offer me. I knew why he was here. Everyone knew. The tension and anticipation enveloped the town like a fog rolling in from the river. Excited screams and shouts had drifted in through the window.

Everyone in Birnstead was mad with anticipation and streaming towards the riverbank. The Inquisitors were here. And as this was the middle of nowhere important, no one had ever seen an Inquisitor up close before. And now there were three of them. Three of the brave and glorious and righteous elites. Legends. Fables. Protectors of mankind. Slayers of monsters.

Rafe kneeled down next to me. “They’re here. You ready?”

I shook my head.

Rafe wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and held me tight for a moment. He dug me out of my blankets, put his arms under mine, and hefted me to my feet. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve got this.” He sounded so certain of himself, so absolutely convinced that no one here would betray me.

To pull this off, I would have to be equally convincing. I, Vale the vampire, exhaled and buried everything I was feeling under a cheerful facade. The tension left my body, replaced by energetic youthfulness. The worry and distress peeled from my face, a casual, almost playful smile taking its place. Child hunter Valentina patted his arm, and stepped out of his embrace. “You are right. I’ve got this.”

Rafe shuddered, distress at my sudden transformation coloring his scent. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Don’t worry.” I smiled up at him. “I don’t enjoy this either. Come on. Inquisitors don’t like waiting, and my hair is a mess right now.”

And I don’t want to stand still and think about how I just gave you yet another good reason to betray me to them.

We fetched Fern, and leaning on her a little to hide my unsteady middle-of-a-sunny-day gait, we headed over to the river. As we did, I went over my primary escape plan one last time. If I was betrayed, I would get on Fern and run. My horse was fresh, theirs were not. I only had to last until nightfall. The Inquisitors would not be able to reach any other settlement before dark. After sundown, they would merely be three Inquisitors that had died in mysterious circumstances. There were rough edges to this mad scheme, like what to do with the people of Birnstead after this, but it would serve as a starting point.

Almost everyone in town had gathered. But so far, to my surprise, everything was going according to plan. Gery was ready and waiting. Onar had actually stayed away. The kids were being kept away as well so that they wouldn’t accidentally spill my secrets.

Not that any kids were needed for the babbling of stupid nonsense. There were so many idiotic comments I could overhear. This near legendary, once-in-a-lifetime event, was really making people stupid.

“That one’s even got two swords. I wonder if they’re enchanted?” someone whispered excitedly.

Nothing different than my own. I just don’t carry mine around as if it’s some kind of exhibit on display. Please don’t tell them I have a rune-crafted blade.

“Look at those horses. They’re so majestic. You think they are destriers?”

Of course not. Destriers are for showing off. They’re on a job so they’re probably just coursers, like Fern. I merely don’t spend a fortune on making my horse look impressive.

“They’re so big. There has to be a minimum height to become one of them. Has to be.”

Yes, I’m short. Can we stop mentioning it!

“I didn’t expect them to be this… dirty?” Reya scoffed. “Somehow they’re not as impressive as I remember them being.”

I snorted. Leave it to Reya to not be impressed with Inquisitors. “A couple of days following a river will do that to you,” I called out to her. “You’ve seen Inquisitors before?”

“A lifetime ago. Parade in Rhicat when I was nothing but a dirty little street rat.” She shooed me on. “Go. Go.”

“Going,” I agreed, and brazenly stepped forward to greet them. “Hi, Inquisitor Lowe.” I gave him a little wave and my most disarming smile.

“Miss Valentina,” Inquisitor Lowe replied blandly, refusing to be swayed by my innocent display with so many people watching us.

“Vale, please,” I corrected, since I could already feel Reya mouthing ‘Valentina?’ behind my back. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought my horse, but it’s on the other riverbank, and I’d rather not get everything wet.”

“Call me Grant, then,” The Inquisitor suggested. “Not at all. We’ve certainly learned these last few days that it’s not a river that is easily crossed. Almost makes me wish we had taken you up on your offer.”

I chuckled. “Well, at least it’s summer now. You don’t want to know how cold this river gets in winter.”

Some of the villagers laughed at that. Finally, Inquisitor Lowe laughed with them. The carefully guarded tension was broken. Some banter later, I mounted my horse and pulled Gery up after me. Under the light of the sun, it took an absolutely wasteful amount of my precious Metzus to be able to do so in a coordinated fashion. But better blood-starved later than discovered now.

With Gery’s eyes helping me pretend I was not blind, we showed the Inquisitors where the ahuizotl nest had been. When Gery, The Inquisitors, and I returned from that, Rafe and Eryn performed the obligatory hospitality. They offered the Inquisitors my place in the bunkhouse for the night. Despite the longing for a good bed I could feel in them all, they refused and moved on immediately. They still had a lot of ground to cover, and their job would only grow more difficult once the first eggs hatched.

And so it happened. Three Inquisitors passed by a town where everyone knew what I was, and no one spoke up.

For now, I lived.

I did not know how long the respite would last. This peace, it was fake. Eventually, someone would not keep quiet, but for just a little while, I did not care. I would live, just a little while longer.

I was happy. Happy to be alive.