by Amy Cross
I felt a fear of death.
Even when I'd been poisoned, even in the grip of that agony, I had somehow managed to believe that I would survive. There had been weak moments, for sure, but some deep part of my soul had insisted that I would escape death's thick maw. Even when I'd heard the singing voice of one of death's minions, even when a girl named Hannah had come and told me not to be afraid, I had pushed back and insisted that I would live. Sometimes I think that it was my sheer refusal to die that had saved me. Yet now I stood and waited for the last of the pain to pass, and I realized that I could sense death approaching. I had thought that perhaps it had been Chloe I had sensed while I was waiting in Paris, but now I knew the truth.
It had been death all along.
“No,” I whispered, as the panic rose in my chest and blossomed to become fury. “I refuse...”
I hesitated, and then – in a sudden blur of uncontrollable anger – I overturned the nearest table, sending plates and cups clattering to the floor. Realizing that this wasn't enough, I took hold of a chair and threw it across the room, and then I watched as it smashed through one of the windows. Even this didn't satisfy my need for release, and in truth I felt as if nothing ever would. I was surrounded by mortal souls, by a mortal war, and suddenly humanity seemed like a wretched reminder of every weakness that I had ever feared.
And then, quite suddenly, I understood the truth.
“It's some kind of trick,” I snarled. “Yes, that's it, I've been fooled. Chloe isn't from the future at all, she's lying to me. This is all some attempt to weaken me further.”
Deep down, a part of me wondered whether this could be true, but my sense of fury was too strong. Turning, I stormed out of the building and across the town square, and I could already see Chloe up ahead. She was carrying a bucket away from the crowd, going to collect water, but she stopped as soon as she saw me approaching.
“Matthias,” she stammered, “what -”
“You want me to save everyone?” I shouted, pushing her back so hard that she almost fell. “I don't know what kind of trickster set this up, but I refuse to play the fool for even one moment longer!”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I know!” I yelled, grabbing her and pinning her against the wall, then leaning close to her terrified face. “Is it my brother? Did he put you up to this? Or is it Antoinette? I have no shortage of enemies, and even my friends might be tempted to meddle in my affairs.”
“Matthias -”
“I don't know the truth about you,” I continued, “and I don't need to know. But I'm absolutely certain that you've been sent to drive fear into my heart, to make me doubt my own strength. I won't do that, not anymore. You can find your own way from now on, Chloe Carter. Whoever you are and whatever you want, I will no longer be your plaything!”
“All I want is to get home!” she gasped.
I pulled away, and then I turned and saw that several of the townspeople were gawking at me.
“What are you looking at?” I snapped, and they all hurried back over to the injured boy.
“Matthias,” Chloe said, clearly close to tears, “you need to calm down. No-one's trying to trick you, at least not as far as I know, and I've told you the truth.”
“Liar!” I sneered, taking another step back. “You're lucky I don't rip you apart. The only reason I'm letting you live is so that you can run back to your master, whoever he or she is, and let them know that this little plan hasn't worked. I'm sick of being an invalid. I won't let you bring fear to my heart. From now on, whatever you're trying to do, you're on your own. I refuse to be involved in the affairs of humans anymore.”
“Matthias -”
“Any humans!” I added, before turning and storming away.
“Matthias!”
She called after me several times, but I kept walking. I quickly reached the edge of the town, and then I set off along a remote road that led toward the horizon. I had no idea where I was going. All I knew was that I wanted to get as far as possible for anyone who might try interfering with my mind, and that meant being alone for a while. And as for Chloe Carter, I'd already wasted enough time and energy on her. She'd been a wild goose chase, a distraction from what was important, and above all a reminder that I should never get involved with humans.
She could find her own way home. I needed to focus on getting well again.
Chapter Forty-Five
Chloe
“What's up with Matthias?” Michelle asked as she placed a towel on the child's arm, trying to stem the flow of blood.
“Nothing,” I replied. “The usual. He's just angry that he isn't getting his way.”
“He probably feels as if he's above all of this,” she muttered.
“He's certainly full of a sense of his own importance.”
“Why shouldn't he be?” she asked. “You know what he is. He's magnificent.”
“He's...”
Turning to her, I realized that she knew the truth about him.
“Vampires are the most stunning creatures in all of creation,” she continued. “I just wish we could find a way to make them help us.”
“They should help us because it's the right thing to do,” I said firmly. “Not because we try to bribe them with favors. If he wants to storm off and leave us here, then that's his right.”
“Storm off?”
“He'll be back,” I added. “Whatever. I don't have time right now to run around trying to fluff up his ego.”
“We can't let him go!” she gasped. “We need him!”
Getting to her feet, she hurried away.
“Are you serious?” I snapped, but she was already gone and I had to quickly take over her job.
“Let me help,” Pierre said, kneeling next to me. “I have no medical expertise, so you'll have to tell me what to do.”
“I have no expertise either,” I replied, and then I winced as I saw that one side of the boy's face had been completely burned away, all the way down to the bone.
Another woman hurried over and set to work, barking commands in French, and finally some of the others started helping. Realizing that they seemed to have the situation under control, I get to my feet and back away. My hands were trembling, and deep down I was already struggling to imagine how the boy could possibly have any chance of survival. Somehow he was still breathing, but he'd already lost so much blood.
Hearing footsteps nearby, I turned to see that Michelle was coming back over to join us.
“I can't find him anywhere,” she said.
“I think he left,” I told her.
“He can't have done,” she replied, with a hint of anger in her voice. “There's no way he'd just walk off and leave us here!”
“Maybe he'll be back when he's calmed down,” I suggested. “Right now, I think the priority should be -”
“The priority should be getting a vampire to fight on our side!” she hissed. “What did you say to him? Why did you make him leave?”
“It's not my fault!” I told her.
“I have to go after him.”
“I'm not sure that either of us can really understand how he sees the world,” I suggested, before looking over my shoulder, watching the spot where I'd last seen Matthias. “Then again,” I added, “maybe I'm making too many excuses for him. He knows what's happening in the world. If he refuses to help, then that's his decision. From what I can tell, vampires have always avoided meddling in the affairs of humans. Maybe he really does just see us as disposable little creatures. Maybe that's really all we are to him. Mayflies.”
“Then we have to prove him wrong!”
“How do we do that?”
“I don't know,” she said firmly, “but I refuse to accept that humans have to spend the rest of eternity under the thumb of vampires and other monsters. Matthias isn't the only one out there. There are vampires and werewolves and all sorts of other things, and we only need to get one of them on our side in order to start the ball ro
lling. And if they won't respect us, I'll find a way to make it happen.”
“I'm not sure that's possible,” I said, turning back to look at the injured child, just as he let out another agonized scream. “I think maybe they've already seen us for what we really are.”
I glanced back at Michelle again, but she was already hurrying away.
“We need more bandages,” I said, as I turned to Pierre.
“What's going on with Michelle and your friend?” he asked. “Why are they -”
“We need more bandages!” I said again, raising my voice. “Forget about Matthias, he'll come back when he's had time to grow up a little! Right now, we have to save this kid! Get more bandages!”
Chapter Forty-Six
Matthias
The road was long, stretching out far into the forest. I walked calmly and alone through the night air, and I didn't once think of turning back, of changing my mind and returning to help the others. I'd been worried that my resolve might weaken, but in fact I felt that every step made me more and more determined to keep away from the affairs of mankind.
They could keep their pathetic, pedantic war.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I somehow failed to notice the first warning signs that I was not alone. On another night, I'd no doubt have heard voices in the distance, and I'd have spotted a hint of movement far ahead. On that particular night, however, I was utterly absorbed in my anger, to the extent that I'd made it almost all the way to the crossroads before I heard the click of guns being readied, at which point I looked around and saw to my surprise that several soldiers were standing nearby, and that they were positioned a few feet away from a small tank.
“Halt!” one of the soldiers shouted in German. “Who are you and what are you doing out here so late?”
I looked around and noted that there were six of them.
Six against one.
In the old days, not even a challenge.
Now?
Now I might actually break a sweat.
“Do you not understand German?” the first soldier asked, before switching to another language. “Do you speak French?” he asked, before switching again. “Do you speak English?”
“It doesn't matter what I speak,” I replied drily. “I'm not here for trouble. I'm only passing through.”
I stepped forward, but two more soldiers immediately moved to block my way.
“I'll tell you when you're allowed to leave,” the first soldier said as I turned to him again. “We're on a routine patrol, and you're breaking curfew. Where are you from? One of the nearby towns? Are you British?”
“I'm passing through,” I said again. “There's really no need for -”
“I'll tell you what there's need for!” he screamed suddenly, stepping toward me. “You'll answer my questions and you won't say anything else! Is that understood?”
“Don't try to give me orders,” I replied. “That never goes well for anyone. Get out of my way and I might just let you live.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, clearly annoyed. “Would you care to repeat that? My English is not so good, for a moment there I thought you were disobeying a direct instruction.”
“I'm not from here,” I told him, “and I shouldn't be here. It's a mistake. You're going to step aside and let me pass, and then you're going to get on with your business. Whatever else happens, you will not -”
Before I could finish, he stepped toward me and prodded me in the chest with his gun. Just like that idiot at Chateau Malafort.
“That's not how things work around here, my friend,” he snarled. “You're going to come with us and answer some questions. And when we're done, I might or might not decide to have you tied to a post and shot.”
“Don't give me orders again,” I said firmly, “and don't touch me with that gun. If you do, I'll make sure that you all regret meeting me.”
“Is that right?” he replied, before suddenly breaking into a bout of loud, rather theatrical laughter. “Did you hear this idiot, everyone? He thinks that he's in a position to threaten us. He thinks our orders are requests.”
I couldn't help but sigh.
“Okay,” he continued, stepping even closer, “let us try this one final time. Perhaps now the idiotic Englishman will be able to understand.”
With that, he jolted the barrel of his gun against my chest, harder than before.
“You're going to come with us right now,” he sneered, “and you're going to answer all our questions, and then you're going to pray that we let you live.”
“I am?” I replied.
I clenched my fists.
“Okay, then,” I continued, with a faint smile, “but don't say I didn't warn you about what's about to happen.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chloe
Morning light streamed across the field, as half a dozen mourners made their way past the treeline. They were carrying a makeshift coffin, taking the dead boy to his grave.
We'd worked all night to save him, but he'd slipped away just before dawn. He'd just lost so much blood, I suspect we never had much of a chance anyway, but we had to try.
Everyone else from the town was walking behind, and I was near the back of the group. I felt like a total interloper, but at the same time I knew that I had to at least go and observe the burial. I'd been given food and water, and everyone had been very friendly to me. I figured that I couldn't stick around forever, but at the same time I also had nowhere else to go. Even now, as I glanced around and hoped to spot Matthias watching from afar, I was convinced that he'd show up again soon. He had to.
If he didn't, what was I supposed to do next?
***
“Something happened in the past twenty-four hours,” Pierre said as he studied a crudely-drawn map that had been laid out on a table in the rear of the town's cafe. “All the units that answer to Klaus Zieghoff were suddenly drawn back to Paris.”
“Zieghoff might not be in such a good way right now,” I replied.
“How do you know that?” Michelle asked.
“I told you, I was rescued from Chateau Malafort.”
“And you can prove that?” she replied. “No offense, Chloe, but for all we know, you might be a spy.”
“You've seen my injuries,” I pointed out.
“I've seen injuries. I have no way of knowing where you got them.” She turned to Pierre. “We shouldn't be letting her in here right now, not until we know we can trust her.”
“I already assumed you guys were keeping sensitive information from me,” I told them. “I'd be shocked if you weren't.”
I meant every word. Pierre seemed very trusting, and I was convinced that his plan was simply to test me and see how I responded. For example, he'd shown me some maps that indicated where certain resources were being stored, and I had no doubt that those particular maps were fake. He was waiting to see if I tried to pass the information on to anyone. I wasn't offended by his suspicions; on the contrary, I was glad that he'd chosen to take precautions. Anything less would have been suicide for the resistance team.
“The air raids have been more frequent in recent weeks,” he said cautiously, “which lines up with some of the things we've been hearing. Time is of the essence, we have to be ready for whenever the Allies make their big push.”
“And when will that be?” Michelle asked.
“They'll pick the best time,” he replied, “and they won't warn us. That would be too much of a security risk. We need to be ready around the clock.”
“That's not going to be enough preparation,” Michelle said firmly. “We have other options, and we need to explore them.”
“Not this again,” Pierre said with a sigh. “You keep pursuing these utter fantasies that are never going to work. You can't keep hoping that magical creatures are going to swoop in and save us all.”
“I'll show you!” she snapped, turning and storming out of the room. “Give me twenty-four hours and I'll prove to you that we can win this war. If we do
it your way, we'll still be fighting this time next year. My way, the war can be over in a week.”
She slammed the door shut, leaving the rest of us standing in silence.
“Is it possible that she's right?” one of the others asked.
“No,” Pierre replied, shaking his head, “she's been on about this nonsense for so long now. Werewolves, vampires, all sorts of other things. She thinks these fantastical creatures are going to come and save us all from the bad guys, but it's just not going to happen. Even if they were real, there's no reason to believe that they'd be on our side.”
I opened my mouth to ask how he could be so sure, but at that moment I heard the engine of some kind of motorbike starting up outside. I turned and looked out the window, just in time to see Michelle racing across the town square and out toward the river.
“She's stubborn,” Pierre muttered, “I'll give her that. And despite the trouble she sometimes causes, we could do with more people like her.”
“Vampires and werewolves aren't going to come and rescue anyone,” I said. “Trust me on this. I know that's not how anything works out.”
“What do you mean by that?” one of the other men asked.
“Nothing,” I replied. “So, it's 1942, right? The D-Day landings haven't happened yet, have they?”
“The what?” Pierre asked.
“Never mind,” I added, quickly realizing that even mentioning that phrase might be enough to mess with the future of the world. “Ignore me. I'm rambling.” I forced a smile, hoping to get them all to forget that I'd said anything at all. “So what's the plan now? I mean, I have nowhere to go right now, so I'd like to stick around if that's okay with you. At least until I figure out my plans. And I can help with things, I promise. I mean, I'm not very practical, but I'm happy to try anything.”