Of Light and Darkness

by Shayne Leighton

  The horse, which had been keeping an even pace all the while, suddenly sped up and lurched into to a brisk gallop. Aiden tugged at the reins, trying to slow the animal, though the horse ignored him.

  “Slow, girl!” he commanded, tugging harder. But she went on, moving too fast for them to see what could have possibly spooked her.

  Charlotte hugged him tighter. “What’s happening?”

  “I have no idea! She’s never acted like this before!”

  The forest flew past them in a blur of greens and browns. Charlotte shut her eyes against it, burying her face between the Elf’s shoulder blades. She could feel the world pulsing by, the wind like hornets angry in her ears. She peeked long enough to notice a dark blur dart through the trees. It moved faster than the horse, suddenly bursting into the clearing. A werewolf.

  The horse reared, an anguished whinny ripping from behind the foamy reins in its mouth. Charlotte tumbled into the dirt. She strained to see the Lycan that had been stalking them from the time they began through the tunnel. It stared back at her with horrible, coal-colored eyes. Charlotte had been right for feeling she was being watched. Apparently, the beast had decided it was time for an early dinner.

  “Aiden, do something...” Charlotte whimpered from the ground. Her heart was in her throat. She wasn’t even able to tell if she was in pain or not.

  “Like what?” Horrified, Aiden stayed frozen, his grip unyielding around the reins.

  Aiden wasn’t about to be helpful. She fought to look away from the wolf, even for a second. Out of the corner of her eye, she could make out on her watch it was only about 4:30 in the afternoon. Her whistle wouldn’t have helped, even if she had remembered to bring it. Why did she always forget the blasted thing?

  They remained frozen, staring at the wolf as it threatened them with soft, taunting growls. Saliva oozed from its black gums and dripped from the tips of its fangs. It locked eyes with Charlotte as she slowly got to her feet. One ankle hurt a little, but she didn’t dare release her gaze this time. She slowly moved her hand toward her satchel to shuffle through the contents. She pulled out the loaf of bread and gingerly tossed it forward. But it went completely ignored by the Lycan. She felt her leg pulsing with something warm.

  “Charlotte…” Aiden whispered.

  “What?” she whispered back, still not pulling her focus away.

  “Your leg.”

  She realized what he meant when she smelled the familiar scent of iron and rust, and then finally the shooting pain. Blood.

  The wolf crouched deep, ready to lunge. It let out one last deadly growl and leapt into the air.

  Thinking fast, she swung her satchel at the animal's head, slamming into its jaw with a crunch. She opened her eyes to watch a red ribbon of blood seep from midnight fur. It lay there, whimpering and twitching, fighting with itself to get up again.

  She didn't have time to think before one, large hand grabbed her shoulder, tearing her from where she stood. Aiden threw her back on the horse, in front of him this time. He whipped the reins and sent the horse hurtling again down the trail toward home, leaving the Lycan fighting for its life in the dirt.

  Charlotte looked to see the crumpled shadow get up and disappear into the woods, noticing then, the bloodstain on the corner of the Anatomy on Vampires jutting out just over the top of her satchel.

  Chapter Three

  No Fear for the Vampire

  “I will not let you go into a Vampire’s house with your leg looking like that!” Aiden insisted, as Charlotte tried desperately to wriggle out of the grasp he had on her arm. He held her tight, pulling her in the opposite direction of her house.

  “I want to go home now, Aiden! Valek is not going to hurt me. I’ll be fine by the time he wakes up, anyway!” she insisted, still struggling to pull away.

  “You don’t know that!”

  “Yes, I do! I think I know that better than you!” She hoped the other people in the town square would hear. She wanted to embarrass him.

  The two had locked the spooked horse away in the town stable and were now glaring at each other in the middle of the busy street.

  “I’ll haul you over my shoulder if I have to.”

  She stopped and looked at him in disgust. “Why are you crying?”

  “I am not crying.” He quickly wiped at his face with his sleeve.

  “You’re acting like a baby.” She sneered. “I’ve never seen Valek cry. I want to go home!” She started to tug away again.

  He did as promised and threw her over his shoulder, and started walking in the other direction toward his own house. She kicked and pounded on his back with her fists.

  “What are you doing? ” she demanded.

  Some merchants in the area stopped and stared.

  “At least let Mum fix you up before you leave,” he said, clearly not affected at all by her tantrum.

  Aiden had never trusted Valek. He made it very clear how he hated Valek for sending her out nightly to hunt for him. Aiden had been there when Valek brought her home from Prague that cold night. Aiden was around when his mother took care of her when she was little. He’d been her best friend through the years, and she knew how stubborn he was. Which was why no argument she had in her arsenal would have an effect on him. He was taking her home to be stitched up by his mother, and that was final.

  At last, Charlotte grew tired in her struggle and let her body go limp as he transported her through the busy town square to the Occult's residential district.

  Aiden carried her up the steps to his family’s cottage on the outskirts, between the suburbs and downtown. Various picks of wildflowers and shrubs, and a rickety old fence that kept nothing out or in surrounded the house. It was merely a tool the vines used to stretch toward the sun.

  He opened the front door with the hand that wasn’t holding her secure to his shoulder, and went in to find his mother in the kitchen, as usual.

  The scent of cabbage and carrots filled the room. Steam from the pot made the small amount of sunlight filtering in through the windows hazy. Small doorways in the brick walls led to other parts of the house, where bedrooms for Aiden’s many brothers and sisters were. Mr. Price was probably in the forest, still working, Charlotte suspected. Aiden rarely discussed his father. Actually, she never recalled meeting him before.

  Meredith Price was another Earth Elf, like Aiden, with the same autumn-colored hair, and a warm smile with gigantic laugh lines. They also shared the same soft blue eyes. The Prices previously belonged to an Irish Occult. This explained the Celtic knickknacks adorning the house, as well as their last name, which obviously wasn't native.

  Meredith’s stout frame jiggled under her apron as she stirred something in a large brass pot over the black potbelly stove. She stopped when she saw her son walk through the door, Charlotte draped over his back like a hunting trophy. “Oh, Aiden! What do we have here? I think we already have enough for dinner tonight.” She laughed her hearty belly laugh.

  Charlotte squirmed to peer around Aiden’s shoulder. “Hello, Mrs. Price. How are you?” She smiled politely through gritted teeth and dug her nails into Aiden’s back so he would let her down.

  “Yeah, Mom. I was really hungry, so I brought back an entire cow,” he joked.

  “Aiden!” Charlotte slapped his arm.

  His mother burst out with another thunderous laugh. “Oh my. It's always a comedy when you two get together.” She smiled as Aiden set Charlotte down, the smile fading when her gaze fell to the gash in Charlotte’s leg. “Oh, Charlotte! What happened, dear?”

  “Aiden’s horse chucked me off when we were riding, after he promised it would be safe.” Charlotte glared up at the boy, whose confident smile immediately dissipated. He looked wide-eyed at his mother. Charlotte instantly realized what she had done.

  “Aiden….” Meredith’s tone heated. “Now, I told you never to take those horses out of the town stable. Those are for when you are working! And where could you possibly have been going with a horse, anyw
ay?”

  “Thanks, Charlotte.” Aiden groaned.

  The realization hit his mother like a stone. She gasped. “Aiden Price! What did I tell you about leaving the Occult? It’s dangerous! Don’t you understand? What would your father say?”

  “It was my fault, Mrs. Price. I’m the one that left this morning. He only came looking for me,” Charlotte confessed.

  Meredith looked at Charlotte, and then at her son again. A different emotion conflicted with worry when their eyes met. The three stood looking at one another in silence. Charlotte nervously dropped her gaze to the floor, shifting off of her wounded leg. She wanted to go home now more than ever. “Excuse me, but what time is it, exactly?”

  “It’s around seven o’clock, dear. The sun will be setting very soon. Just enough time to get you cleaned up and sent home without Valek ever knowing you got hurt,” said Mrs. Price. “Come on.” She waved Charlotte into the den. Aiden followed.

  The Price’s den was a simple, warm room with a few bookshelves, enormous, sunken armchairs, and one small radio in the corner. One of Aiden’s little sisters played with a rag doll on the floor by the window.

  “Excuse us, Molly. We have to get Charlotte cleaned up. Can you please take that into the other room?” Molly must have been around eight or nine, with blonde pigtails that hung all the way to her knees.

  “Hi, Aiden!” Molly chirped, and hugged her brother before running into the next room.

  “All right, dear. Now just sit here a moment while I get the medical aid,” Mrs. Price said, and bounced out of the room.

  Aiden sat next to her on the couch. “Are you okay?” he asked, staring at the floor.

  “Yes. Are you?” Charlotte looked at him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. It was just an accident.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “Can you not mention the Lycan to my mum?”

  “Mum is the word.” Charlotte giggled, always finding Aiden’s Gaelic accent charming.

  Mrs. Price walked back into the room with a large, wooden box. She set it down on the ground, took out some herbs, and began crushing them in a small ceramic bowl. “This will have you fixed up in no time.” She worked the leaves into a fine pulp. “This is a remedy that has been in our family for generations.” She handed Charlotte a wet rag.

  “Thank you.” Charlotte started mopping up the dried blood from her leg.

  Aiden’s mother started to apply the green mush onto the wound. “Now this stuff will stop any stinging or aching you might feel, and it’ll completely take away any smell of blood. You know…just in case.” She smiled up at Charlotte as she finished. “You know we all trust Valek with our lives, but you can never be too careful around a Vampire,” she muttered as she started to wrap Charlotte’s leg in white gauze.

  “What do you mean?” Charlotte frowned at her, stung by the slightly prejudiced comment.

  “I meant no harm, dear,” Meredith said. “It’s just…very easy for them to lose control once they smell blood. They can’t always handle their instincts, if you know what I mean.” She dropped the subject and continued what she was doing.

  Shocked, Charlotte refrained from any sort of reply. Nothing like that had ever come out of Mrs. Price before. How could she think Valek would ever harm her in any way? She forced a smile after Aiden’s mother finished with the dressing. “Thanks again.”

  “Not a problem, love. Now you need to take this off right when you get home. Can you remember that?”

  Charlotte nodded.

  She bid Aiden and his mother a quick good night, and finally set off down the road toward her own house. The sun was far in the West now, the light swirling fusions of red and gold. It would only be a few minutes before it would set completely behind the mountains.

  Charlotte made her way out of the suburbs and into the noisy town square. This was the time of day when it was busiest. The Elves were wrapping up their day shifts and returning to their families, while the Witches and other nocturnal creatures were arriving for another night at the taverns and shops. Charlotte tossed a hellar on the street near a self-playing fiddle.

  She made her way down the narrow footpath up to the large home and quietly opened the front door. She peered inside, not sure if Valek was awake yet. It was dark and silent inside, and the evidence of a long day’s rest still lingered in every room. She hung her bag on the coat rack by the door, bypassed the library, and crept up the stairs to her bedroom. She really didn’t need to be quiet. It wasn’t like Valek could wake up because of any noise she made, but it felt respectful.

  The window in her room was left open from the night before and a soft, early evening breeze made the translucent curtains billow inward like dancing spirits. Her entire room was white and delicate, with soft accents of light yellow. It looked like a room out of a doll’s house. Valek had created it for her. He always treated her like his doll, which was why it was impossible to imagine him as the monster Meredith Price described him as.

  Charlotte peeled off the white blouse, damp jeans, and sneakers, and replaced them with a black dress with sleeves to her to her elbows, and a hem that fell just above her knees. She slipped on matching black flats and sat on the edge of her bed. This was the way Valek liked her to dress. Delicate—his doll. But it was impossible whenever she went out hunting for him. The less attention she drew to herself, the safer. She noticed the way Evangeline's friends had goggled at her the other night. She would be lying if she said it didn’t bother her.

  She stared at the floor as Mrs. Price’s words echoed in her head. You can never be too careful.

  “Oh!” She’d almost forgotten the bandage. She leaned over and slowly unwrapped the dressing to reveal a completely normal, unscathed leg. It felt as though nothing ever happened at all. Despite her questionable choice of conversation that evening, Meredith Price was an amazing healer.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte caught something small and gold glimmer faintly on her windowsill. A lightning bug had landed there. Funny. It was a little late in the year for lightning bugs. Careful not to scare it, she reached for a small, glass jar on her bedside table filled with pencils for her sketches. As slowly and quietly as possible, she dumped them on her bed and moved the jar over the tiny, twinkling fly until she was confident enough to lower the jar mouth and trap it.

  It buzzed around inside, clinking against the sides of the glass in a pathetic effort to escape. Charlotte gingerly slid her hand underneath and turned the jar right side up to peer inside. The tiny thing continued to fly around feverishly. She found the top of the jar in her drawer.

  “There,” she said when she secured it. “Valek will like you, I think. You’re like a tiny piece of the sun.” She smiled and set the jar back on the table.

  Charlotte collapsed backward, glanced at the clock, and then stared up at the ceiling. 7:45. Time seemed to be moving at a glacial pace as her mind spun with too many thoughts. This was the first time in a while she felt like she had nothing to do, and the feeling was unwelcome. She continued to think—always a dangerous thing to do alone. And what most dangerous, was she continued to think about Mrs. Price and what she said about Valek.

  She thought about the chapter in Vampire Anatomy she had opened up to last night; the pages on the daily death of a Vampire, and the scientific illustrations of the decomposing monster. Streams of warm sunlight depicted as poisonous rays—the punishment for eternal damnation by God.

  She heard Mrs. Price's voice reverberate once more in her head again and frowned. Charlotte rose from her bed after a few minutes and decided to do something she hadn’t ever dared to do before. She wanted to see Valek, actually see him for what he truly was. Meredith’s insensitive comments left a million questions buzzing around in her mind, and she felt he was the only one who could provide any answers. After all, what about him was so awful he felt the need to hide it from her? Surely, death was not something as grossly depicted as it was in her book—something he needed to
fight so hard to conceal. The hauntingly graphic images on the pages of her volume were not something she could accept without seeing the truth. She knew the rules and they were simple—stay out of his room unless he was awake. There must have been something more. Perhaps he truly was something monstrous, and she had merely been in denial all her life. Her mind instantly flashed to the vision of Valek wiping the blood away from his mouth the night before. But she wouldn’t focus on that now as she shoved the image to the back of her mind. Grabbing the lightning bug off her nightstand, Charlotte crept into the hallway.

  Moving almost silently, a trait she picked up from so many years of living with a Vampire, she made her way closer to his bedroom. The large windows to her right painted long shafts of golden light across the dark, dusty hallway floor. She could see his door in the shadows, shut tight against the world, a few feet in front of her. She pressed her ear against the cool wood and heard nothing but the hollow echo of an empty room behind it. Charlotte’s heart continued to thud in her throat as she mentally braced herself for what she was about to see.

  She took a deep breath and slowly turned the handle, cracking it open. She peered inside, barely seeing into the heavy darkness. Black, velvet drapes shut sunlight out from every surrounding window. A small string of light filtered in from where she stood, making a soft, orange beam all the way to the foot of his bed. Afraid of what might happen if it were to reach his skin, she quickly closed the door behind her.

  The room’s atmosphere was like a human mausoleum, the air stagnant, chilled with death. Her eyes could not adjust to the deep blackness. Holding up the lightning bug captive in the jar, she found it was no aid at all to her vision.

  This is stupid, she thought, even as she continued to sneak slowly to his bedside. She should just go back to her own bedroom. She wasn’t supposed to be here. What good could possibly come out of seeing him this way? Yet she continued to creep closer to the bed, finally making out the dark figure in the center of the mattress. The hair on the back of her neck bristled as she leaned over the long corpse before her.