Of Light and Darkness

by Shayne Leighton

  Valek examined the other woman standing emotionless by the front door and burst into laughter. “Who do we have here?”

  Charlotte glanced back and had to laugh, too. The woman might have been considered appetizing when she’d found her at the start of the night, but now she looked like she was emerging from a coma.

  “I found her outside of a tavern in Prague.” She chuckled. “She’s a mess now.”

  Valek’s brow creased with worry again. “You went all the way to Prague? ” His tone turned parental. “Charlotte, you are never supposed to travel that far for me. You know it is very dangerous.”

  Charlotte winced. “Yes. But Evangeline gave me a few spells she’d been working on. One for transportation, the other for half-life.”

  “I see.” Valek's expression eased back again. “Please send Evangeline my thanks then. I am happy she is looking out for you.” He kissed Charlotte on the forehead and began leading the woman by the hand into his office.

  There were only two instances when she was not allowed to be in the same room with Valek—when he fed, and at sunrise. He had established those rules as soon as she was old enough to understand them. An Elf had been her caretaker during those times, but now she was old enough to keep away on her own.

  Charlotte was about to disappear for the evening, to immerse herself in yet another book, when something kicked at her memory. She called out, stopping him. “Oh! I hope you don’t mind. Evangeline mentioned stopping by tomorrow night.”

  “Yes. Of course,” Valek said. “Is everything all right?”

  “I think she just wants to visit you.” Charlotte smiled, in spite of the sick feeling forming in her gut again.

  Valek chuckled, which made her frown. She imagined he understood the way she felt about Evangeline better than even she did. The psyche of an adolescent girl was probably not a difficult thing for a worldly Vampire like him to figure out.

  “Are you okay with it?” He shifted an eyebrow, another bright smile playing on his handsome face.

  “Yes.” She hated the fact Valek could hear her thoughts. In most ways he was like a father, but in other more annoying ways, he was much like an older brother. Charlotte grumbled and disappeared over the library threshold.

  The library was Charlotte’s favorite part of the house, the room where she spent the most time growing up. It was where she did all of her schoolwork, where she and Valek put the Christmas tree in the winter. Sometimes, on nights when she finished hunting for Valek early, she went in there to sketch elaborate works into a large, leather journal.

  Finding she did not have an ear for music and was too clumsy for dance, drawing had become her most favorite form of self-expression.

  Often, she’d emerge from the library in the mornings, hands and arms covered in graphite. Her magical world had become one giant muse. But when she did not feel inspired to sketch, she found herself studying, taking it upon herself to learn about the dark facets of Valek’s life and vampirism. This sort of studying, of course, being outside of her nightly curriculum Valek preferred—normal things like literature and arithmetic. Charlotte knew Valek hated when she became so engrossed in these books, but it fascinated her to no end.

  Charlotte flicked a switch that illuminated a small, spidery lantern, which hung from the center of the ceiling. She was comforted by its faint glow, the way it warmed the familiar, forest-colored walls behind large, dusty oak shelves. Breathing in the welcoming scent of pipe smoke and pine needles, she entered further into the room to scan the shelves for her favorite book: The Anatomy of Vampires: Volume One. The damaged spine poked out at her from the very top ledge, as it always did. Stretching upward on her toes, she took the tattered volume. The pages shifted between the covers, loose because she had studied it so many times. She opened it to the page she had last dog-eared—a particular unit discussing feeding habits. This page focused on complications of only feeding on animals, something she often wondered about.

  She hadn’t always known she was different from him. When she was a child, around three or four, she would go around biting Valek’s patients, trying so desperately to be like him. Most of them only laughed at her. They loved Charlotte. As far as they were concerned, she was one of them. But there was one day, she recalled, just before her fifth birthday, when she made what started out as an innocent mistake.

  A Fairy had come in to Valek's office suffering a raging headache. It surprised her as a young child to find Fairies were not the much loved stereotypical little girls with wings and pointy ears that mortals revered in her childhood fairytale books. In truth, humans would not have expected the bloodthirsty monsters with large insect wings, jagged incisors, and slanted, electric eyes. They were androgynous and more bloodthirsty than Valek had ever been, even in his lowest moment.

  The young Charlotte, rearing herself, let out a tiny roar and bit the Fairy on its claw after it had stalked into Valek’s office. The thing spun sharply on her, its jagged teeth bared. A horrible bellow ripped from the back of its throat, sludge spewing from its gums. Charlotte screamed and cried in fright, scurrying away as it chased after her.

  The Fairy’s jaws snapped shut and opened again as it pursued her around Valek’s office. Pieces of equipment were trashed, important documents flew all over the room, and chunks of countertops and walls were in splinters—smashed by the Fae trying to get to Charlotte. Black saliva dripped from its teeth as it finally cornered Charlotte in a space between two, thick bookshelves. Its snapping jaws only inches from her face.

  Valek appeared. Gripping its cranium with his large hands, he snapped the creature’s neck in half with a crunch.

  The Fae fell to the floor, its wings thrashing in its final death throes. It became drenched in its own blue-black blood, which oozed from its mouth and soaked the bottom of Charlotte’s shiny, black Mary Janes.

  She stood there screaming, watching the monster die. Valek quickly grabbed her into his arms and ran her up to his bedroom, all the while shielding her from the smell now permeating his office. It had been the only time in her life she had ever been welcomed into his room.

  Valek sat Charlotte on the edge of his bed, her tiny legs dangling over. He knelt in front of her and wiped the tears away from her face. She only stared at him, crying, and screaming as loud as her little lungs possibly could. He wiped the stuff away from her nose with one of his puffy sleeves and hushed her gently.

  “Hush, Lottie. Don’t cry,” he whispered.

  She sniffled, but the tears continued to fall. He set her on his lap; the ruffles of her little, red dress upped around her knees. He brushed the hair out of her face and flashed the largest smile he could conjure. However, the sight of his fangs did little to calm her.

  “Lottie. Little Lottie.” He hummed gently.

  Charlotte was eased then by his velvet voice and quieted.

  “You see? You are all right. It was just a big bug. I squashed it for you.” He managed to smile slightly less horrifyingly that time.

  “S-squashed it?” She rubbed at her eyes. He took her small hands in his and balanced her on his knees.

  “Yes. I squashed it,” he said valiantly.

  She let out a tiny smile.

  “That’s it. Everything is okay now.”

  Charlotte nodded at him. He kissed her forehead and explained she really was very different from him and everyone else who lived in the Occult. He explained further how she was special because she was different and that was exactly why he loved her so very much. That was the first time Charlotte ever fully understood.

  She blinked back the memory and rubbed at her eyes as they grew heavy. She decided she would just go to sleep early instead of staying up into the wee hours of the morning. Valek had preoccupied himself for the evening anyway. It had been a while since she had been awake during the day, and she decided tomorrow she would escape for a few hours in the sunlight.

  She took one last glance at the following chapter in the volume entitled The Daily Death of a Vampi
re and put the book away on the very top shelf. She didn’t want Valek to find out she had been studying it again. Though, as she did so, she recalled the unnerving information the previous chapter of the book withheld.

  Every morning at sunrise, Valek’s body stopped working. His eyes sunken deep into their sockets, his breathing growing more and more staggered, his joints popping and whining as his last breaths rattled from him. The death of any type of person was not something pleasant to watch, but the daily death of a Vampire beat out most. He never wanted Charlotte to see him like that. Normally she locked herself in her own bedroom, shut all the curtains, and tried to muffle out the sound of Valek’s moaning with her pillows until she eventually fell asleep.

  “Lottie.”

  Valek’s musical voice stopped her halfway up the staircase. She looked down to see him quickly wipe something away from one corner of his mouth. Charlotte appreciated Valek always being careful to never expose her to his feeding habits, though seeing blood barely bothered her anymore.

  “Going to sleep early tonight?”

  She shuddered, trying to dispel the deathly images of his “sleep” from the book. “Yes. I think I might go for a hike tomorrow…while the sun is out.”

  He smiled uncomfortably. “Yes, well...say hello to it for me.”

  Charlotte understood his unbridled fascination with the sunlight—like an unrequited romance.

  When Valek turned to retreat to his office, she began once more up the stairs.

  “Lottie?” He stopped her again.

  She turned back again to see he had returned to the same spot, as if he had never moved.

  “Be careful tomorrow, please.”

  “I’m always careful.”

  “I still do not like the fact that you had to go all the way into the city for me tonight.” He sighed and pushed back an unruly lock of dark, brown hair which had fallen into his severe face, the rest tied neatly back with a black ribbon.

  Charlotte waited for him to continue.

  “I know it must disturb you on some level to have to hunt for me. I simply...do not know how else to handle our unique situation.”

  Charlotte’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out. Valek had never addressed his feelings about this before. He rarely revealed his personal feelings at all. She descended a few steps to stand eye-to-eye with him.

  “It's okay. I don't mind it, really. I much prefer things this way than what the alternative would be.” She smiled.

  “It is not a joke to me, Lottie,” he said seriously. “If anything is ever bothering you or makes you uncomfortable, I expect you to come to me about it.”

  “Of course I will. Who else would I go to?”

  He squeezed the bottom of her chin affectionately. They regarded each other for the last time that evening and retreated to their own corners of the house.

  Charlotte thought about her five-year-old self against the Fairy again as she crawled into her bed and pulled the covers around her shoulders. She smiled when she thought of Valek’s horrifying grin that day, but the memory of how he’d bounced her on his knee, like a daughter, stung insatiably. The Fairy’s long jagged teeth were much scarier than Valek’s fangs.

  She gripped the covers tighter around her neck and closed her eyes. The image of Valek wiping the blood away from his mouth flashed in her mind. Blood, from a human just like her. Frowning, she turned over and thought of Evangeline again. Charlotte noticed Valek’s eyes brighten when she told him about the Witch’s plans to stop by tomorrow. Her heart sank a little deeper in her chest and she flipped over again, staring at the ceiling.

  Charlotte recalled Valek’s smile after Evangeline hugged him as a “thank you” for fixing her. If he’d been physically able to blush, he probably would have. Flesh wounds never took Valek very long to sew up, but he gave so much attention to Evangeline’s that night, taking a longer amount of time to ensure that the gash would scar as little as possible. Nothing would ruin Evangeline’s perfection.

  The Witch was beautiful, with the brightest eyes that always seemed to pop against her tanned skin and dark hair—Moravian. Nothing like Charlotte’s spiraled, red curls and pallid skin. Evangeline was tall, like the models advertised on the sides of the building walls in Prague. If she were human, she’d probably be plastered there with the rest of them.

  To Charlotte’s surprise, she felt her eyes well up with stinging tears. She squeezed the bottom of her own chin, replaying in her mind Valek’s action from just a few moments ago—how parental it felt. Valek would never see her as anything other than a child. She couldn’t remember what the catalyst was that caused her feelings for him to change, but Charlotte needed to live with the fact, as his adopted daughter, she could never be anything else to him

  A single tear rolled down the side of Charlotte’s face. She needed to guard these embarrassing, miserable thoughts from him at all costs. He would never understand the way she felt.

  She turned on her side again, and let herself drift to sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Stripped

  Charlotte’s torturous thoughts from last night resurfaced in her mind the instant she opened her eyes the next morning. But she couldn’t think of him anymore. It was daytime. He was resting. And she was leaving.

  The day was much cooler than the night before, the air crisp, smelling like burnt cinnamon and baked red apples as it drifted through Charlotte's window. It was her most favorite time of year, and that was what she would decidedly focus on today.

  She got dressed in a hurry and skipped to her vanity, carefully running a beaded comb through her tousled, dark red curls. Why couldn’t she have hair that was fine and straight, like Evangeline’s? Men’s eyes always lingered when Evangeline ran her slender fingers through it.

  She grasped her canvas satchel, swung it over her shoulder, and skipped to the second story landing of the staircase, but Valek's bolted bedroom caught the corner of her eye. Its ornately gothic doors were shut tight, letting no pinch of light enter between the thin crevices as it stared back at her down the long hallway. She frowned at it, feeling badly he had to be trapped there during the beautiful, warm daylight. She pushed one curl behind her ear before she started again downstairs.

  Quickly, she grabbed a loaf of sourdough and jam from the ice chest in the dark, empty kitchen, before rushing through the foyer to the front door.

  Once outside, Charlotte sucked in the clean air and let the sun heat her skin. Valek had warned her about her lack of vitamin D since she was kept pale by her nocturnal life. He demanded she at least go out weekly during the daytime to stay healthy. It worried him, though, that she would be out on her own, beyond the reach of his protection.

  The streets of the Bohemian Occult were abandoned of all but the Elves and a few non-nocturnal Phasers, creatures who looked human but were able to shape-shift. Charlotte had grown up playing with a lot of the Elven children, as they were closer to human than the others. They ate normal food, though most were vegetarian, and they were mortal, except they aged much slower than human beings.

  Near the end of the town square, next to an Elven church, across from the pub the Witches liked to frequent, there was Broucka General Store. It was the shop she went to every time she was out for the day because it sold everything from fresh meats and fruits, to specialty potions and knick-knacks laced with psychic energy—things she might need for a night of hunting.

  “Edwin?” Charlotte called to her favorite clerk, pushing through the noisy curtain of stones that rained down from the front doors. Enchanted, red clay birds twittered around Charlotte's head as a welcome before disappearing to the wooden rafters of the shop ceiling.

  “Hello there, Charlotte!” A small demon poked his head out from behind a tall oak shelf of crystal potion bottles. “I’ll be with you in five minutes.” He went back with his rag to finish polishing. The purple stained glass of the bottle he dusted distorted his burlap face into a funny jug shape that forced Charlotte to smile. Edwin was the st
rangest creature she had come across in her lifetime so far—something like a living scarecrow, with potato-sack skin and button eyes.

  “No problem. I’m just going to browse.” Charlotte peered into the cases of rotating quartz pyramids and evil eyes that blinked back at her. On top of one counter sat lightning in a bottle, jumping around on the wooden surface.

  “Uh...Edwin?” she called nervously as she watched the lightning bottle skitter closer to the counter’s edge.

  The bottle leapt over, and was caught at once by two small stitched hands.

  “Got it!” Edwin smiled at Charlotte through thick bottle-cap spectacles. “I don't know why the boss even wants this on display. I don't see how anyone would want to buy it.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “It's…interesting.” She was only recently acquainted with Edwin when he began working there, but they’d become fast friends.

  “What can I do for you today?”

  “I am going out for the day. Have anything fresh?” She grinned.

  Edwin placed both hands atop the counter and leaned in close to her, whispering, “You're leaving the Occult city again, Charlotte?”

  She nodded.

  “That is a bad idea. A very bad idea.” He started to sputter. “Bad, bad, bad.” His fists twisted in the material of his coat, a habit when Edwin sensed danger. But Charlotte didn’t like to let Edwin’s little episodes bother her. They rarely came to fruition. She only rolled her eyes at him.

  “No…no, I don't think you should. I definitely d-don't….”

  The lightning bottle leapt off the countertop again, but this time Edwin was too distracted to catch it. The glass shattered on the ground. The electricity zapped, breaking the other glass bottles, tearing chunks of wood from the walls. Owls and bats screeched in their cages, and Charlotte and Edwin were completely knocked off their feet.

  She slowly lifted herself up and dusted off, looking around to see the spotless store was now in utter chaos. A few of the black rats had even escaped and were scurrying for a hiding spot.