The hand reached out again, white against the dark, and rapped on the glass. I drew my hands up, covering my face with my left and preparing to strike with my right. This had to be an intimidation tactic – otherwise, they were giving me all the time in the world to prepare for their attack.
This time, however, a face followed the hand. It peered curiously in through my bedroom window, blue-grey eyes wide and scared. Rosebud lips drew downwards, pulling into a frown.
I stumbled backwards, staring at her as she ran a hand agitatedly through her strawberry-blonde curls. It was Veronica.
It had to be a trap – didn’t it? I inched closer, my eyes fixed on hers. She was crouched close to the windowsill, most of her weight supported by the tree that dangled its gnarled, naked branches across the glass.
I swallowed, my throat tight and my mouth dry. She looked the same as she had before, and
We sat beneath a shaded grove of trees, leaning our backs against their rough bark. The cold blistered my skin, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from shuddering.“Would you like my coat?” Veronica whispered, turning to face me with wild, petrified eyes.I shook my head, confusion gnawing at my insides. She looked the same and sounded the same. I couldn’t theorise any longer. I had to know.“Are you a vampire?” I whispered back. My eyes searched hers, blue-grey and brimming with tears. I’d never seen a vampire cry before. Her chest heaved, and she nodded.“I – I think so? Oh, God,” she moaned, dropping her chin to her chest. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, Callie. I woke up, covered in blood and mud and soaked through with rain, up at that creepy old castle – Blackwood, I think it’s called, though I don’t
“Whoever turned you must know that I’m a hunter,” I murmured to myself. “But why would they send you to me? I mean, why turn you in the first place?”Veronica shrugged, her blue-grey eyes molten with sadness. “I don’t know. I thought you’d be able to help me, but you don’t know anything more than I do.”My heart ached for her. I wanted to smack myself. Was I really feeling sorry for a vampire?Without consciously deciding, my mind had been made up. I had to help her. Veronica was no more a monster than I, if what she said was true. As she dissolved into sobs once more, I felt certain that she was being honest.“Ver,” I said gently, shaking her. “Ver. I’m sorry, but you have to talk to me if I’m going to be able to help you.”“You will?” She blubbered, turning huge,
I stole back to my Dads’ house under a thin and wavering cover of clouds. Sharp rays of early morning sunlight pierced through easily. I blinked blearily, struggling to comprehend everything I’d learnt in the night.I wasn’t sure that Veronica could be trusted, but I had to hope my gut instinct was right. She didn’t seem like a monster. She seemed like a terrified child, dragged kicking and screaming into a world she didn’t understand.As a hunter, it was my duty to protect the innocent. We’d failed Veronica once. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.I hugged the exterior of the house, wary of being seen by my Dads. Now that I had the information we needed from Veronica, I was worried that they’d see her as I had initially: as part of the darkness, not the light. I’d never heard of a way to make a vampire human again, but maybe there was some lore on it, tucked awa
I slammed the car door irritably behind me. My phone was ringing – again. With a sigh, I declined the call and shoved it into my pocket. Cyrus had started the day with a text, and my lack of reply seemed to have panicked him. Good. He deserved to feel as hurt as I did. I crossed the car park, stepping around puddles in potholes as I made my way towards the flickering neon sign. Ella’s was the last place I wanted to be tonight; I didn’t have the energy to pretend that the most stressful thing in my life was my breakup with Harper. In truth, I’d hardly thought about Harper since we’d last met – my focus had been on Veronica and her forgetful family, not the tragedy of my own collapsed relationship. I smoothed down my top, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. It was fairly busy, with a smattering of people sat at the bar and most of the tables full across the floor. Smiling at
I ran my fingers over the note, tracing the creases and squinting down at the faded letters. With a tiny, quiet sigh, I pocketed it.Staring at myself in the mirror, I scraped my hair back behind my ears. My body was decorated with weaponry: a stake down each sleeve, a thigh holster holding a gun tight to my leg, a switchblade strapped to each ankle. Even so, I didn’t feel prepared.I took a deep breath, watching as my chest rose and fell. It was only Veronica. I didn’t have to face Cyrus; at least, not tonight. He’d called me only once more while I’d been at work, and I’d sent him a quick text to put him at ease. I needed to buy myself more time, and I feared that ignoring him would rouse suspicion rather than give me the space I needed.I shoved my feet into my boots and crouched down to lace them. It helped me to think in actions rather than thoughts, to focus on the mundane rather than t
I wanted to run to Cyrus, to confront him, eyes blazing and mouth shouting and fists pounding. Instead, I slowly unclenched my hands and smoothed out the fresh page of my notebook, focusing on the texture of the paper beneath the pads of my fingertips.After meeting Veronica last night, I’d woken my Dads – both of whom had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for me to return – and told them everything I knew. Eager as we’d been to storm over to Seagull Road and take The Heath by storm, we’d learnt one major piece of information through Veronica’s misfortune: we didn’t know as much as we thought we did. As such, the three of us had taken the day off work once the morning had rolled around, and our plan was to spend the day researching.I’d felt awful calling in sick, but I’d decided that it was a necessary evil. If making Mae jiggle the rota around saved her life, then it was worth it. It wa
Once I’d added the new information about Bethan to my ever-growing list of mysteries, I returned to the book Cyrus had given me. Hope swelled in my chest, but I shoved it down every time it tried to resurface. I couldn’t afford to have misplaced hope – especially when the odds were stacked against him.Even if he had killed Bethan, that did not absolve him of his other possible crimes. The story of Lady Luna had built the bonfire, and the possibility that Cyrus – the only other person in Seafall that we knew of who had knowledge of the vampires – had staked a vampire had sparked the match.Face down on the far side of the desk, my phone vibrated. I ignored it for a while, intent on reading as much of the book as I could before night fell, and it was time to meet with Veronica again. Though she had to stay out of the sun, she had promised to try to see who was bringing her bags of blood. So far, she’d said,
“I wasn’t sure which text it was what you wanted to look at, exactly, so I thought it would be easier if you just came in,” Sierra said, holding the front door open for me.“Thanks,” I said, smiling as I passed her. She flicked her honey-toned hair over one shoulder before following me inside.“Sorry about the mess,” she said sheepishly. I hadn’t noticed it.“Oh. Don’t worry about that.” I paused before softening. “I kind of have tunnel vision today, anyway.”I nodded her head to one side, gesturing towards a towering stack of books beside a brimming bookcase. Behind, through the window, the sea shifted, shades of grey blurring as the sky met its shuddering surface.“Then you’ll want to have a look through these,” she said, crouching down beside the staggering pile. “I tried to r
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