The silence in the car was unnerving. After so much action, so much noise, to sit with no sounds save for the low rumble of the engine and our steady breaths was soothing, but uncomfortable. My head pounded, desperate to fill in the sounds that it expected to hear.
I turned to face Harper, sat alone in the back. His gaze was fixed on the rolling trees and verges rushing past outside. I smiled at him, a tiny, grateful smile that said more than words could. He ignored it.
He’d lied for me when my Dads had arrived at the woods. He’d lied for me, and it was clear on his face that he regretted it. I’d been spared the agony of continuing our barbed conversation by the arrival of my Dads, tyres screeching as they pulled up at the edge of the sparse trees. Cyrus had disappeared in a sudden flash of darkness. I hadn’t had time to wonder where he’d gone – or why he’d left.
Dad and Paps had
The meeting took place in the underbelly of Torre’s house, in a room I’d never seen before. She claimed that it was more secure than where we normally met, and infinitely safer than the town hall. I entered with a sense of trepidation – what was decided here would come to fruition as soon as we left, so I trailed my fingers along the ornate banister as we wound down and down, down into the darkness. Gently, Paps lifted my hand from the smooth wood, shaking his head at me slightly.The tension had eased dramatically since Harper’s sudden departure. And, though I was concerned about him, I couldn’t deny that I was glad he’d gone. I doubted he’d tell anyone anything – who would believe him? He was a man scorned, turned vicious with jealousy over my new relationship. At least, that’s what I hoped people would think if Harper started spouting truths about the supernatural. A pang of guilt clenched my gut,
I held the darkness close, using it to shroud me as I crept towards the building. I’d been home only briefly between the conclusion of the meeting and arriving at The Heath, and there I had found my phone placed carefully on my pillow. The sight had filled me with warmth, and something akin to homeliness, now that I knew who was behind the return of my lost items. Though he’d never said it, I’d assumed that Cyrus had returned the obsidian necklace to me, too – before I’d left it with Veronica. The screen of my phone was smashed, but it worked well enough after a quick charge for me to call Cyrus and fill him in.There was no word as of yet from Harper. I was glad of it – I didn’t have the energy to help him work through his fear. I had enough of my own shit to work through in the short time I had without worrying about him.I’d re-laced my boots before I left, and with each tight crossing I rem
Pain flared, pulling all of my focus to that single, tender spot. I felt the incision of each of her fangs, felt the slow pull of my blood being extracted from my body against my consent. I roared and writhed against her. She held me down, hardly breaking her concentration, so little an effort it was to keep me pressed down against the floorboards.I acknowledged death as an equal, as a friend. To die in battle was honourable. To awaken as a vampire – I shut out the thought, and redoubled my efforts. I would not allow her to turn me into one of them. I had accepted Veronica, and I had accepted Cy, but this – I could not accept this.My hands were pinned against my sides. If I could wiggle them free – even just a little, affording them some small amount of movement – I could dig my nails in to her skin. It would hardly hurt her, but it might distract her for just long enough that I could dig my stake into her
My eyes were unfocused, glassy, as I watched Cyrus scream. The sound was raw, unlike anything I had ever heard before, least of all from him. The hot pulse of blood streaming from my neck eased, and I let my hand fall. I hardly knew what I was doing. My entire being was honed in on that awful, curdling scream.Even though I had done nothing, I had broken our agreement. I was a vow breaker. I had destroyed the burgeoning trust between us.I felt no sorrow for his Nanny, not really. Her eyes were as glazed at mine, but through my own haze I could see her smiling. Cyrus clutched her to his chest, sobbing openly, tears falling on her weathered face. But through it all she smiled, and placed a weak hand atop one of his.Something in his expression broke me, though. It crumpled, the skin pulling taut as he screamed his throat raw. But it was not the cries or the shaking or the pull of his mouth that twisted the knife in my hea
Through the white haze of the too-bright lights, shapes and surfaces began to take form. As I found my way back to myself I felt around for the thing in my chest, an instinctive movement that I did not fully understand.A shell had been constructed around my heart, black and cold and utterly unyielding. I probed at it, trying to find a way in, but it had been shut off from me as completely as if it had been removed from my chest.Perhaps it had. Perhaps it had, because fragments of memory were returning to me, and – and I could have sworn that I’d had many visitors here, wherever I was, and that none of them had come bearing well wishes or even good news. I swam upwards through the black, inky seawater, watching through swollen, tired eyes as the white shape around me became a bed.Once I could see it, I could feel it: feel the too-hard mattress beneath my sore back, the lumpy pillows propping up my head. And
Over the course of my stay in hospital, I’d learned one major thing: I had made a mistake.Perhaps it would truly have been better to die than to take Salvor’s blood. I would have died a hero, having uncovered the vampire clan’s nest. The likelihood was also that Cyrus would still have his Nanny, too – he wouldn’t have left her unattended in those last, fatal moments to come to my aid.But what was done was done; it had been marked in time, irreversible and unchangeable. And here I was, packing up my meagre belongings – a wilting flower left for me by Cyrus, with a small, polite note attached it; half a bar of chocolate, left for me by my Paps; and my clothes, which my Paps had also brought with him. The clothes I’d been wearing the night I’d been brought in were blood-soaked, ripped, and ravaged, and I’d had no qualms about asking the hospital staff to put them straight in the bin.
I stared into the fogged bathroom mirror, my jar of coconut oil and a small vial of tea tree oil open in front of me, but as of yet untouched. It all felt achingly familiar: the little jar we kept our toothbrushes in, the speckles of black mould in the upper right corner of the shower, the burnt orange hand towel that had come with us from university house to university house, and finally to our first home.It had been the same way ever since I’d stepped through the threshold of the house and back into my old life. The rooms were the same, the furniture in them was the same; I could almost see our old selves wandering around, grinning and joking, Harper hugging me from behind, the bristles on his chin tickling the skin beneath my ear. I could see it all, but I felt… nothing.I blinked at my reflection. Same dark hair, only lanker and longer than the last time I’d seen it in this mirror; same dark eyes, underhung by purple
Days passed. Harper worked, and I drifted around the house, unfeeling and uncaring – until the nightly terrors struck, and my body shook with fear and sobs. I did not feel the pain of my hand, or the stitches in my neck, but as soon as darkness fell the pit in my stomach grew, morphing along with the faces in the shadows until my throat closed around my screams.I relieved the same day over and over. I ran the fingers of my right hand down the banister, along the back of the sofa, across the tatty Christmas table cloth Harper had put in the kitchen. I tried to force myself back into my old life, to make my new self fit with a past that no longer existed. Needless to say, it didn’t work.I did not eat, save for the meals that Harper cooked for me. It took too much concentration, and I could not be distracted for even a moment. Anyone could strike, when I was home alone like this. I had been saved by my team, and by Cyrus, too many
I braced myself, lifting a bandolier weighted down with silver bullets and resting it across my chest. My knife was strapped to my ankle, a gun was slung low across my hips, and a silver dagger rested at my thigh.I’d laced my boots with resolve, each knot a promise. I was doing this for the right reasons. I was a protector, not a monster. The sword down my back was double-edged, both killer and saviour, but I wielded it with the power to choose. I would not allow myself to be what I had been, and what many of the others still were.Cyrus caught my wrist, pulling me close. Our lips met in a heated kiss, his tongue and teeth searing my core. Hands tugged the plait from my hair, and fingers tangled in the dark waves. My skin tingled with his touch, and bolts of lightning fractured down my spine.The bond between us swelled, crackling with glossy sunlight and soaring blue waves. The heat of Cyrus’s affection bec
Gaudy lights flashed above, drenching Cyrus’s face in bright reds and blues. With alcohol humming in my veins and his arms holding me close, I moved past the flashing, burning image of blood that overlaid the reality of the coloured, moving lights. Even as my mind whispered that it was blood, blood and pulsing blue veins, Cyrus swept me into a spin that threw aside my fears.I grinned at him before he pulled me in again. His joy brushed mine, intertwined within my chest. It didn’t lessen the ache that I dragged with me, but it smothered it, forcing the pain to submit.“As much as I like it when you curse and tease and fight,” he murmured, his lips ghosting across my ear, “you are truly beautiful when you smile, Callie.”Before I could respond, Cyrus tugged me around so that my back was pressed to his front, and his hands cradled my hips. We swung from side to side together, my steps cl
I had to move on. At least, I had to try. And, though understanding and enacting were two different things, it was easier to try if I kept myself focused on the present – rather than my jarring, pain-distorted past, or the murky and indistinct waters of my future. Looking back brought forth only blood and terror, and I couldn’t see through the thick, cloying mist shimmering softly ahead. It coated my crumbling relationships, Cyrus’s vampiric nature, and my comparatively short lifespan. Behind, my Dad’s words had carved themselves into my bones and tattooed themselves onto my skin. I could taste Veronica’s fear with every swallow. The walls closed in around me whenever I was alone, and the neat, sharp clicks of Alice’s footsteps followed me around every corner. Even in Wiley Manor, a hotel so detached from my old life in Seafall, monsters found me in my sleep. Sleepy, soft kisses to my forehead, my temples,
“Get out,” Dad hissed, his face contorting. Shadows crept across his cheeks and nose, distending it into something twisted and evil. Fear filled my gut, and I stepped backwards. My hands trembled as I reached for the door.My fingers turned to claws as I scrabbled behind me. Dismay rose in my throat as I flattened my palms, feeling desperately for the door. I turned slowly, knowing before I saw it that the door was gone.I was trapped. The windows shuttered, and my Dad loomed before me. Paps cowered at his side, shrunken and rat-like with front teeth that slipped from beneath his lips. As I watched, they sharpened into points and became fangs.My feet skidded under me, slipping on something wet streaking across the floorboards. I looked down to get my bearings, to get my balance, and bile clung to the back of my mouth. It wasn’t just something wet. It was blood.Flames shuddered acr
The drive to the hotel was quiet, but comfortably so. Perhaps because there were no words that could have made the situation any easier, Cyrus and I allowed the silence to swallow us whole. He rested his hand on my thigh, a steady pressure that kept me grounded enough that thoughts of shoving myself out of the car and rolling across the road – just so that the physical pain overshadowed the emotional for even a moment – seemed nonsensical.Without him there, I wasn’t entirely sure what I would have done. I heard my Dad’s last words to me on every inhale, and I saw the dull look in my Paps’s eyes with every exhale. I breathed, but it didn’t make me feel any better.Get out. Get out. Get out.The sun was just starting to break through the clouds as we pulled in to a car park, nestled alongside a shaggy stretch of woodland. I turned to Cyrus, confusion drawing my eyebrows down. H
My back stiffened. Any attempts at lounging went out the window the second my Dad entered the room. I curled my hands into fists, digging my nails into the soft, broken skin of my palms.His face was shadowed. I ached to go to him, to bridge the gap between us. He’d placed a blanket on me as I’d slept mere weeks ago, and now he was staring at me as if I was a stranger. My breath latched in my throat as I tried to speak.“What is your decision?” I asked. My voice did not sound like my own.“This has not been easy for me, Callie. For us. You have made it incredibly difficult.”I stood on shaking legs. There was a softness to him beneath the hard shell that forced his mouth into a downward tilt. It spilled out rarely, but it was there.“I am sorry for what I have done,” I said. “But I do not regret it, nor do I wish to t
The world collapsed in on itself as I waited for the door to open. My right hand remained curled in a loose fist, raised against the wood, knuckles bared. I flexed my fingers and, slowly, lowered my hand.I focused on my breathing, caught in that everlasting moment. With every rise and fall of my chest, I could feel the passage of time. It had to be moving. I was not trapped here.I turned halfway back towards Cyrus, needing to see him, to reassure myself that he was still here with me, when the door finally opened. I caught a flash of hair so dark it shone blue even in the dim light, and then hard arms were pulling me inside.“Callie,” Paps breathed, his body warm and unyielding as he held me close. “Oh, thank God.”I stilled against him, my arms at stiff angles by my sides. My heart leapt – he seemed glad to see me – even as it twisted and tangled, knotting itsel
“You know,” Cyrus said, his tone carefully casual, “I could do the same for your Dads – and the other hunters, too.”He set down the photograph he’d been holding, the wooden frame knocking against the hard surface of the kitchen counter. I didn’t have to look to know which photo in particular he’d been about to pack into my old, worn suitcase, scraped from years of overuse.The day had dawned slowly, the sun hiding behind blank white clouds that had grown grey as they had settled into the sky. The kitchen was dim, though Cyrus’s eyes still somehow glittered like stars on a calm sea as they met mine.I sighed, shoving the last of my cutlery into the same wicker basket I’d used to move my utensils to and from university for the last three years. It smelt faintly of fruity cider, and my nose crinkled slightly at the faded red stain down its side.
“Harp?” I called out. It was the first time I’d spoken to him since our argument. I’d heeded his wishes; as such, I had no idea if he’d even still be at home. I hoped he was. Whether for me or for him, I longed to offer him this chance to move past this. I had ruined myself. I didn’t want to destroy Harper, too.“Callie?” Harper thundered into the hall, eyes wide, chest heaving. “I – I went to find you, and you were gone.” He pulled me into a crushing hug, pressing me tightly against his chest. “Fuck. I was so worried, Cals.”My heart ached. “I’m sorry.” My voice sounded tiny.“I – I thought–“ he spoke wildly, the words spilling out between panted breaths. “I thought you were – oh, shit,” he swore, and then pushed me away, holding me at arm’s length to appraise me. &ldqu