Fangs

by Anna Katmore

  “Regardless, Abby needs to get some rest in her bed rather than on the cold ground,” the wolf changes the subject while Rosemarie stands quietly beside him and regards me with fathomless sorrow in her eyes. “Come on, vampire. We seem to want the same things, after all.”

  I shift Abby in my arms and lift her up as I get to my feet. I don’t want to leave her alone tonight, but obviously, she can’t stay at the castle. If her gran really is able to help a wolf, she will also be a much better nurse for Abigail.

  “So…” I begin a conversation as we slip through the gate, head out of the castle garden, and walk down the dirt road toward the village. “Any other crazy wolves hiding in the woods?”

  Both wolves snap their heads around, glaring at me. “No,” Trayan states after several seconds. I guess with that, he just confirmed that Rosemarie is crazy.

  She reaches out to take Abby’s hand as she walks close beside me. It’s hard to miss how worried she is about her friend, and what a deep cut tonight’s happenings left in her. However, that doesn’t put everything to rights.

  “You know the law says she has to be eliminated,” I address Trayan in case he didn’t quite grasp the dilemma yet.

  Rosemarie jerks her hand back in utter shock. He only casts me a sideways glance. “You can try. But I promise that no one’ll find your body if you touch her.”

  I chuckle because I would probably say the same thing if it were Abby. In fact, with everything that was revealed tonight, killing Rosemarie has dropped far, far down my list. Still, there are some things to consider. “She’s out of control. She attacked a human. And last night, she tried to eat me.”

  At my last words, Trayan’s inquisitive gaze moves to Rosemarie as if that were news to him.

  “What? Your newest pack member hasn’t let you in on all her funny adventures yet?” There. We’re even.

  A muscle tics in his jaw, but he’s smart enough not to take the girl to task in front of a stranger. I guess the alpha will save that for the perfect moment.

  Abby stirs a little in my hold. She moans, opening her eyes just a tiny slit. I know she’s not really conscious, but it’s good to see that she’s fighting. I sigh as I look at her, pressing her harder to my chest.

  “So, what’s the story with you two?”

  I look up to find Trayan’s curious gaze on me. No extra layer of arrogance this time. It’s probably okay to tell them a little bit of the truth. “My uncle sent me here to deal with a berserk werewolf—sort of have to prove myself by killing it. He won’t let me return until I bring him a dead beast.”

  “Your uncle is Vladimir Dracula, isn’t he?”

  I nod. It’s no big deal that the wolf got that right. Pretty much everyone in our world knows my uncle. “I met Abby the first day I came here, and she helped me adjust to life in the castle.”

  “She became your donor?”

  I lock gazes with him, jaw set.

  Trayan cocks a brow. “Freely?”

  He understands my silence as a yes. With a sigh, he shrugs out of his leather jacket and drapes it around Rosemarie’s shoulders. Her hoarse “thank you” is barely audible as she lowers her head. Tough night, hmm?

  “I was pretty sure you were sent here because of Rosemarie,” Trayan tells me. “I just couldn’t figure out why it took you so long to go after her.”

  “Yeah…” I press my lips together, inhaling deeply. “Let’s just say I had my own battles to fight.”

  “Abigail evaded all my questions after I found her comatose in front of her house the other morning. I thought you’d altered her mind not to speak about—”

  “The horrors of what I did with her alone in the castle?” I finish for him. He smirks. Asshole.

  We turn onto the paved street running toward the village. I direct my next question at Rosemarie. “What do you plan to do to get your little problem under control? You’ll draw attention. Actually, you already have.”

  She swallows. Her cheeks are still wet from her silent tears. I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes. She may not have fallen to bloodlust, but even for a young and inexperienced wolf, it’s a crime to attack people. One that means execution. She knows this as well as her alpha and I do.

  Her frightened and broken gaze searches Trayan’s eyes. Wolves can’t communicate telepathically, but the intense look between them seems to finish a discussion they may have been having for quite a while. Trayan sighs, and he actually sounds relieved. He doesn’t break eye contact with her when he tells me, “She’ll come to Scotland with me. I own a cabin in the Highlands. It’s far away from civilization. I’ve trained some young pups over the past couple of years there.” Then his gaze turns softer, almost loving. “By the end of the summer, she’ll be a fit werewolf.”

  Rosemarie’s shoulders jerk as she sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. She obviously doesn’t like the idea very much, but it’s for the best. I don’t envy her, though. I know how hard it is to leave your home and move to an isolated place for…training. At least she won’t be alone.

  As we walk in silence, my gaze keeps moving to Abby’s calm and pretty face. She’s so brave. Everything she did for me over the past few days. Everything she went through. The silly girl actually threw herself into the way of a ravenous wolf to protect me. It makes me smile, though deep inside, it hurts. As long as she remains near me, she’s playing with fire. I’ve never seen my world as a dangerous place, but looking at her now, unconscious and almost changed into a werewolf, I should probably reconsider.

  I swallow hard and breathe a kiss on her brow.

  “So, you said your uncle will only let you return if you execute the wolf,” Trayan finally breaks the silence. “What are you going to tell him?”

  I shrug. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Do you want me to explain everything to him?”

  “No. Uncle V’s merciless in that regard. If he meets Rosemarie, he’ll likely finish my job.”

  He nods with sad sympathy. “That’s what I heard about him.”

  I didn’t want to frighten the wolf girl even more, but she’d better understand sooner rather than later how hard the laws in our world are. Yet I believe she’s found a good teacher in Trayan.

  All the windows are dark, and some of the curtains are drawn as we reach Abby’s little cottage. Rosemarie heads straight to the door and raps, shouting, “Carmina? Please, open! It’s me. Rosemarie.”

  Trayan follows her, but I call out his name as I stop at the front gate. With a cocked eyebrow, he comes back, his gaze falling to Abby in my arms. “Can you please take her inside and make sure that she’s all right?” I ask him.

  “Why? Did she not invite you in yet?” he mocks me.

  “She did,” I growl. “But her grandmother is pumped up with garlic. I can’t get near her without throwing up.”

  Trayan shoves his hands under Abby and lifts her out of my arms. “Wimp,” he calls me, biting back a sneer.

  I grunt as he turns around and carries my girl away through the garden. A light comes on in a room downstairs. A moment later, the door opens, revealing an old woman in a flowery nightgown with long strands of white-gray hair. Rosemarie speaks softly in Romanian to Abby’s gran but switches quickly to English when Trayan appears with Abby by her side.

  “Abigail!” the old lady cries out and clasps her granddaughter’s hand. Then her eyes find me over Trayan’s shoulder, and shock whitens her face almost as much as her hair. She quickly crosses herself, kisses the crucifix on her long necklace, and slams the door shut after she ushers the others into the cottage.

  Right. The woman clearly held back a secret from her granddaughter. Or two…

  *

  Being shut out from this part of Abigail’s life feels like the worst torture in the world. I pace in front of their garden for a while, hoping that someone—anyone—will come out and tell me how she’s doing. Then I sneak around the house and try to catch a glimpse of what’s going on inside through one of the windows,
but all the curtains are drawn. Soon, the minutes stretch into what feels like hours and then further into eternity. After seeing old Mrs. Potts’ reaction to me earlier, knocking on the door and asking for news seems a little dramatic, not to mention dangerous, but I can’t leave without knowing that Abby is okay.

  I’m perched against the picket fence, keeping an eye on the door, when it finally opens, and Trayan comes out of the house. Alone. As he crosses through the garden, I rise, and he stops in front of me.

  “Abby is still asleep,” he informs me without me prompting. “The fever is down, no shivers.”

  That’s a relief to hear. A sigh whizzes from my lungs.

  “You should go home now,” he continues. “Carmina doesn’t expect Abby to wake up until the morning.”

  “But she— How will I…?” Damn! Can’t I just go and wait in the shed until Abby wakes up?

  Trayan claps a hand on my shoulder. For once, his gaze is full of sympathy. “If anything happens, if her condition takes a turn for the worse, I’ll come to the castle and find you. You have my word.”

  I guess that is better than nothing.

  Abby’s grandmother probably wouldn’t be happy to find a vampire in the shed when she comes out to milk the goats in the morning anyway. There’s still this vise-like feeling in my chest, but eventually, I nod. “Thanks.”

  Something close to a small smile makes his face actually look friendly. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be all right.”

  Shoving my hands into my pockets, I watch the wolf walk back through the garden and disappear inside. I believe I just have to trust him.

  Before I turn around, my gaze snags on a person behind the closed window left of the door, holding the patterned curtain aside. Abby’s grandma stands there with the charm of her necklace clasped tightly in her fist. The ashen tone has faded from her face, replaced by rosy cheeks and actually warm eyes. She gives me a single nod as our gazes lock, then she drops the curtain, and I’m once again alone.

  With my thoughts constantly circling back to Abby and everything that happened tonight, I return to the castle and start cleaning up the many candles I used to create the ball-like atmosphere for her earlier. Only the one on the small, round table remains, and I light it with my mind as I slump down into the wingback chair next to it.

  A gentle fire burns in the hearth, too. Looking at the flames dredges up memories of the day when Abigail helped me start a fire using the flint stones. It probably will remind me of it forever—or at least for as long as I’m here.

  My throat tightens.

  I figured out how to control humans’ minds and how to summon fire. Also, I can change into a bat now, and I run this castle pretty much on my own.

  Pushing up from the chair, I shuffle to the fireplace and, with my hands in my pockets, stare into the flames.

  The wolf problem is solved—at least as much as it can be. The sooner Rosemarie and Trayan leave for the isolated Highlands, the better.

  I did everything my uncle demanded.

  Maybe it’s time to go home now.

  I brace my hands on the mantelpiece and hang my head. Every new day in this castle—every hour with Abby—will only reinforce the truth of what’s already begun. I’m falling for her.

  And the longer I stay, the harder it will be to say goodbye in the end. But a farewell is inevitable. There’s no future for us, not with me being a vampire and Abigail being mortal. A tortured cry erupts from my throat as I ram my fist into the wall above the mantel. Debris rains down and a dent remains.

  There’s blood on my knuckles, but the bruises heal quickly. I’m not sure if the wound in my heart will heal as fast.

  A deep sigh escapes me. I tilt back my head and rub my hands over my face. Damn, I need a distraction. A cold bath in the lake behind the castle will do for starters.

  A half-hour later, frozen to the bone, which does nothing to heal the fractures of my heart, I change into a fresh hoodie and jeans and wash the dirty clothes. They get a chance to dry in front of the burning fireplace upstairs in my bedroom.

  It’s far too quiet in Casa Dracula. A glance at the bed where Sabretooth loved to sleep shows an empty spot, and I wonder if I should have gone looking for him to bring him back with me. I miss the little biscuit. He wasn’t the best conversational partner, but he was an awesome listener. And he was fluffy. I liked the tickle in my ear when he slept in the crook of my neck and purred. Perhaps I can—

  Downstairs, the castle door crashes into the wall, making me zoom around the corner in horror. The door slam is followed by a panicked echo. “Quentin!”

  Our Father in Heaven! Something’s wrong with Abigail!

  I dash out into the corridor and to the stairway, but there’s no one to be seen in the hall. With an agitated drumming of my heart, I race down the stairs, scanning around. All is silent, but the door is wide open—I didn’t imagine it.

  Suddenly, a man rushes into the hall from the iron door that leads to the basement. “He isn’t in the dungeon!”

  “Not in any of the rooms down here either!” a woman answers with the same terrified tremor in her voice.

  I stiffen, my hand hovering on the rail.

  “I’ll check upstairs!” the male shouts as he spins toward me. And then he freezes.

  For the length of a dying moment, we stare into each other’s eyes. My heart pounds so fast, it makes me shake.

  “Uncle V?” a hoarse croak finally breaks from my throat.

  Ellie rushes to his side, her face white from fear, but it quickly turns soft when she sees me. “Honey…”

  Swallowing hard, I take one step down. Then another. “You…came?” I can barely breathe.

  Quietly, Uncle Vlad takes me in, from head to toe and back. His Adam’s apple jumps.

  Ellie touches her husband’s arm. “We were so worried after your last message. Your uncle paced through the house the entire night and tried to reach you.”

  “My phone broke,” I murmur, shuffling down the final three stairs until I stand face-to-face with the two of them.

  Uncle Vlad’s mouth opens, but his vocal cords produce no sound. His chest heaves fast, and his eyes glaze over with relief.

  Another second passes in dead silence. Then I close the distance between us and throw my arms around him. “I missed you.”

  Ellie gasps beside us, while my uncle stands rigid. Shocked. In twenty-two years, this is the first time I’ve hugged him.

  Then, very slowly, his arms move around me, and suddenly he pulls me so close that the air whizzes from my lungs. “Are you all right, son?” he rasps.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and nod against his shoulder.

  Moments later, a sob breaks free from my aunt, and she tenderly strokes a hand over the back of my head. I loop one arm around her and enclose her in the embrace. It feels so good to be with my family again.

  “Would you like me to bring your coffins in, sir?” a croaky old voice interrupts our reunion, and I lift my head. “Oh, I see the boy is in good health,” Reginald adds with a surprised tilt of his eyebrows, but the almost friendly smile he sends me from across the room makes me believe that he worried about me, too. At least a little.

  “No, you can leave them in the car until we depart,” my uncle tells him, finally releasing me from his arms.

  “Very well, sir. I’ll park the vehicle in the stables and get your belongings inside then.” With a respectful incline of his head, he closes the door, giving us privacy again.

  “Now…” Uncle V begins, drawing in a deep breath as he steps back and lowers to the wingback chair. He plants his hands on the armrests and directs his fascinated but warm gaze at me. “I’m dying to know the full story.”

  Ellie goes to the fireplace where she warms her hands after smoothing the front of her white dress. She’s always the light contrast to my uncle’s black clothes and hair. The differences in their appearance never struck me more than they do right now, and yet the loving emotion they share for me overwhelms me
for a minute.

  Eventually, I lower to the steps, resting my elbows on my bent knees, and switch my gaze back and forth between them as I begin the story with the day that Reg dropped me at the castle. I tell them everything about the vampire trap, my hunger, and Abby’s creative ways of torturing me with an air horn and radioactive, garlic-laced blood. Uncle Vlad bursts out laughing at how Abigail knocked out my tooth.

  Ellie smacks her hands over her mouth. She eases again when I explain how it was the beginning of our peculiar friendship. “She must be a great girl if she let you drink from her in spite of her fear.”

  “She is…” I breathe in deeply. “And she let me practice with her.” My focus moves to my uncle. “I’m able to manipulate humans now. And more…”

  He cocks a curious eyebrow, so I raise the fire in the hearth significantly. Ellie jumps away with a little squeak while Uncle V’s head snaps around. Then both of them stare at me with proud wonder, and I waggle my eyebrows.

  “Did you alter her mind,” Uncle Vlad comes back to Abby after several moments.

  Lips compressed, I hesitate with an answer. “Not yet.”

  He tilts his head in thought. I know he’ll demand that I do it before we leave Romania.

  Well, we’ll see about that…

  “And the werewolf?” he changes the subject.

  Okay, this one’s a bit tricky. I was hoping to come up with an idea in the next few days. Working under pressure has never been my thing. I rise from the stairs and tuck my hands into my pockets, pretending a confident nonchalance. “It’s taken care of.”

  “How?”

  “Oh, no!” Ellie cuts this conversation short with a fierce command and an outstretched arm. “Don’t you two discuss bloody details with me in the room!”

  In spite of the rough night, I smile when my uncle rolls his eyes, lifts from the chair, and nods for me to accompany him into the garden.

  For several minutes, we walk in silence along the pebbled path, and I notice how he’s taking everything in, reveling in age-old memories no doubt. His chest expands with deep breaths, his chin lifting a little. The place holds a strange tranquility now, assuring me that the battle is over.