The Vampire Debt

by Ali Winters

  The thought of it sends a shiver crawling down my spine. No one knows what becomes of any of the claimed. Perhaps they do live in a world of luxury doting on their vampires, enjoying soft, comfortable plush beds at night. Or maybe they are nothing more than a snack for the long ride home, or worse. I can always imagine worse, but for now, I shove the thoughts aside.

  A drop of water splatters on my cheek. It is the first sign of rain—real rain—after this endless bog of mist plaguing us all week. I think at this point, I’d rather be soaked through then perpetually damp.

  Most shop owners are at the entrance, attempting to lure any and all passersby inside. The more desperate of them have spilled out onto the sidewalk, with makeshift booths.

  Passing several, I lift a scarf from a woman too busy to notice me as she deals with a particularly unpleasant vendor. Then a cloak carelessly set aside by another. I turn the corner wrapping the cloak and scarf around me before anyone can notice the items are missing.

  I shuffle through the crowd of villagers keeping my head down. I glance around, unable to shake the feeling that a shadow hovers just outside my peripheral. My shoulder bumps a man. He grunts rudely, muttering under his breath.

  Giving him a simpering smile, I mutter my apologies to him as I place one hand on his arm, distracting him from the fact that my other hand is in his pocket pulling out his pathetically light bag of coins. I hadn’t meant to run into him. Usually, remorse presses down on my chest when I steal, though with the particularly nasty ones, the feeling is lessened when snatching up a pocket watch or lifting a bag of coin.

  With a bag this light, it seems he spent most of his money trying to make himself look rich, or he’s too cheap to part with much when he deigns to visit this part of our little village.

  As if any of us care about rich fabrics and ostentatious finery. A few citizens in Littlemire are lucky enough to enjoy a hot meal and a warm bed with enough legroom to stretch out every night. For the rest of us, a roof over our heads, enough coal to keep our homes heated against the worst of the chill, and a hot meal a few nights a week is the best we can hope for.

  He starts to turn away, sneering at me, and I take the man’s antique watch for good measure.

  I would never steal from someone struggling to get by, knowing the pain of going to bed hungry for far too many nights to inflict that kind of hardship on someone else. I’ve always made it a point to take only from those who can spare a little something without putting them in dire straights.

  I glide away from him and lose myself in the crowd. A moment later, the man’s outcry cuts through the din of voices. “Someone stole my watch—my coin as well! Where did that thief go?”

  Perhaps I was a little heavy-handed today—a little too greedy.

  Having run out of our supply of salted meats and pickled vegetables, we are close to starving. It’s been all I could do for the last week to avoid Father’s temper. Always demanding money and food as if we were still rich.

  Though I’m more likely to get caught, it looks as though I’ll have to pickpockets for at least the next week, possibly two. I’ll have to avoid hunting for game in the woods. I can’t let anything connect me to the death of that monster. To get caught would be instant death by the closest vampire… and it will not be a good death.

  I duck into the nearest alley and crouch behind some boxes and wait until the furious man gives up looking for me.

  I still can’t shake the feeling that a shadowy presence is hovering, watching, waiting to pounce. It stalks close behind, breathing down my neck. I spin to look back and catch whoever or whatever it is, but I’m alone.

  Shame colors my cheeks. Shame and fear that the vampire has already been found. That I’ve already been discovered. That they will find me and demand my life in exchange for its cursed life. I scowl—a human life in exchange for that of a beast.

  It is only hunger that drives me from hiding and into town.

  But I’ve gotten rid of my bow and the arrows that could link me to what I’ve done. They will be buried deep under a mountain of garbage and rotted food by the end of the day. It’s a shame, I’ll have to buy more if I ever hope to hunt in the woods again.

  Reaching up, I pull back my scarf and let my long, dark hair fall around my shoulders. I turn the scarf around, hiding the drab gray side and showing off the deep red of the other side. It will stand out just enough so that he can look me straight in the eye and still doubt it was me. After all, what thief in their right mind would wear such a color that would draw attention to them?

  I take a deep breath and stand ready to move back out into the crowd. I think I have enough of a haul for today. I stick my hand into my pocket and pull out a few coins—just enough for a hot sweet roll or two. It’s a little decadent, but this week has been especially sparse. I’ll bring one home to Kathrine. She will enjoy the treat.

  My mouth already waters at the thought of it—the warm, sweet bread, lightly coated with icing melting on my tongue.

  The man continues making a scene a few stalls from where I emerge. I stroll on, taking my time as I pass each vendor until I get to the potter. A hand falls heavy on my shoulder, and I freeze. Not sure if I should fight, run, or play innocent.

  Then a warm voice whispers close to my ear. “What has you looking so ruffled today, Clara?”

  His fingers flick a lock of hair over my shoulder.

  I turn to face Xander, giving him one of my rare but honest smiles. I shrug with one shoulder and let the back of my hand brush against his so that it would look like nothing more than an accidental contact to anyone paying attention. I long to hold his hand, or link arms, instead of hiding our affections to avoid a scandal.

  “Just on my way to the baker,” I say casually, taking a few steps toward the patisserie. Xander sticks close to my side.

  He gently elbows me. “Up to the usual then,” he says with a knowing smirk.

  We both glance toward the center square, and the man I pickpocketed yelling even louder.

  Xander jerks a thumb in the man’s direction. “I don’t suppose you happen to know what all that fuss is about, would you?”

  “Not in the least,” I say, sniffing once, feigning offense and continuing on.

  Together, we walk in silence past several more shop owners peddling their wares. “You need to be more careful,” he whispers.

  I choose to ignore his warning. I’ll do this as long as I must to make ends meet and keep my family fed and clothed.

  As we reach the patisserie, I inhale deeply. My stomach clenches at the sweet smells wafting from inside. “Do you want a sweet roll? It’s on me today.”

  Then before I know what’s happening, he spins me into the alley and grabs my hips, pulling me to him. My chest is pressed up against his, and his arms wrap tightly around my waist. My back presses up against the rough, stone wall.

  “Do you promise that it’s on you?” he practically purrs the words into my ear, sending a shiver down my body. His words make little sense, but the intended meaning shines clear in his tone.

  “Why, Mr. Callowell! You are indecent,” I say in mock horror.

  Up close, his hazel eyes shine, and I can see the smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

  I hastily swat at his arm and step to the side, freeing myself from his hold. Heat spreads across my cheeks, and his grin widens, happy he received the reaction he wanted from me.

  “Don’t do that.” I bite the bottom of my lip and look around to see if anyone was watching. “What if someone sees?”

  He groans and drops his head back, running a hand through his auburn hair in an unsuccessful attempt to smooth the mussed locks. “I don’t care what they think. You are mine, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it.”

  “But what if they tell your parents? They’ll never approve.”

  “They’ll have no choice,” he murmurs sweetly, and wholly unconcerned. “After allowing each of my brothers to wed whomever they please, they will have to
let me have my choice. And I choose you.” He looks stern. “You turned twenty-one months ago; you don’t have to stay at home anymore.” His face darkens at the thought of my situation.

  He’s right. I could have left years ago.

  But not really.

  I could never forgive myself if I left Kathrine alone with Father and no one else to look after her.

  Xander’s family is well off enough that I will never have to worry about Father again. I can escape him and live to a ripe old age with the man I love in peace. With Kathrine in my care, she will never have to worry about an empty belly ever again. And maybe I can finally get her the medicine she needs to be rid of her affliction once and for all.

  “Come on,” I say, pulling him into the bakery with me. “Let’s get those sweet rolls.”

  We go in and I gladly hand over the coins in exchange for two large pastries. Then the two of us retreat to the side of the building to enjoy our snacks. I savor each bite, forcing myself to go slow. Xander is finished by the time I have eaten half. I take out a handkerchief and wrap the remainder in it, then stuff it in my bag.

  “How’s Kitty doing?” Xander asks, knowing exactly why I’m saving it.

  I toe the ground with my mud-covered boot, kicking a pebble and watching it skitter away. Glancing up out of the corner of my eye, I say, “She’s struggling. The damp is making it harder for her to breathe.”

  He nods. I adore him for asking because I know the subject makes him uncomfortable.

  “I’d better get going,” I say, pushing away from the mist-slicked brick wall of the building.

  I step out into the cobblestone street, but his hand catches mine and pulls me back.

  “Meet me tomorrow night at the usual place?” he asks.

  It’s hardly romantic meeting each other in the old barn behind my house. But it’s our spot. The one we’ve been going to for years. I nod and he presses his lips to mine, kissing me hard. I straighten the lapels of his cutaway morning coat.

  Stepping back, I break the moment, moving out of his reach and throwing a wicked smile over my shoulder.

  “Be careful,” he says, all teasing and playfulness vanishing from his voice.

  I raise a brow at his uncharacteristic concern. He always cares, yet this is over the top even for him. “Aren’t I always?”

  “I’m serious, Clara. Tonight is the first day of the claiming.”

  The claiming. Shit. How could I be so stupid as to have forgotten? My timing killing that abomination couldn’t have been worse. I need to get home and fast. The blood drains from my face so quickly that it makes me dizzy. I turn away from Xander, but not before he sees.

  “Are you all right?”

  I nod, plastering a smile to my face. It’s false. It pains me to be less than genuine with him. But he mustn’t find out. No one can. It seems to put him at ease because he returns the expression. Then turning, I run out of our hideaway and into the crowd.

  Slowing to a walk, I near the edge of the town when the unmistakable clatter of a carriage and hooves on the cobblestone road halt me in my tracks.

  I swallow the lump of dread back down as a single carriage, led by two dappled grays, heads my way.

  It turns from the main road and heads into the square. I stop and push back up into the stone of the nearest building, dropping my chin.

  I don’t move a muscle… I barely so much as breathe as I wait for it to pass. It’s only a brief moment, but it feels like an eternity as the memories of my arrow finding its mark keep flashing through my mind over and over again.

  The clatter of hooves stops in the center of the square opposite the fountain. While everyone else inches closer, I turn and run. I don’t make it far down the road before another carriage is headed my way, followed by another and three more behind it. They’ve all come. Every vampire royal, plus whatever others accompany them.

  I shudder at the thought of so many untamed monsters in our midst.

  In an effort to avoid them, I cross the road and jump the fence running through the Bennet’s field. He’d throw a fit if he found out, so it’s a good thing that he, like the rest of Littlemire, is currently distracted by vampires.

  As I near the weather-worn house, no bigger than a cottage that I call home, I slow to a walk, easing my panting breaths to a slow, natural rhythm. Smoke curls from our tilted chimney, and, for a second, I can almost believe that Mother is inside preparing to start dinner, that Father is in his office working on his books, and Kathrine is curled up in a chair before the fire, reading.

  I hear voices inside, Father’s and… another I’ve never heard before. I look around. There is no sign of hoof prints near our home or any leading to the barn.

  A feeling of unease settles in my gut as I approach.

  Chapter Three

  Clara

  Approaching the door, I hesitate for a long moment. Butterflies flutter in my gut, and my nerves are on high alert. I shake my head, telling myself it’s fine.

  I push the door open and step in. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the rushlight's dim glow as I remove my cloak and hang it beside the door.

  “Ah, Clara,” my father’s voice chimes as though he’s delighted to see me. Except, he’s never happy to see me. “There you are.”

  My hands freeze in mid-motion as suspicion makes my blood run cold. He is up to something.

  I quickly bunch my hands into fists and turn to face Father and his guest, forcing my face into a blank mask.

  The man at Father’s side is tall and quite possibly the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. His dark hair is perfectly cut and swept back, it’s not long enough to be tied but, almost. On anyone else, it would look unkempt, but it only adds to his sophisticated appearance. His clothes are tailored, and much finer than anything Xander’s family owns.

  He must be from a neighboring town, most likely the cousin of one of the more well-off families here, no doubt one of their unwitting cousins who don’t know better than to stay away from Father. What is a man of his stature doing in our dirty little cottage?

  Dread pools over me. That could only mean Father is getting us further into debt. It won’t be long until I can no longer keep up with his spending, it’s nearly impossible as it is. I don’t remember the last time his gambling did anything other than empty our already lacking accounts.

  Our guest eyes me up and down, assessing me as if I’m a horse at market. His nostrils flare, and his eyes grow wide for a split second before narrowing. I straighten my back as he casts his judgment upon me.

  I can only imagine what he’s thinking as he takes me in wearing men’s breeches and riding boots. I’ve obviously come back in from the forest. The mud on my boots gives that away. And without my bow, there’s no doubt he thinks I’ve been out trying to catch rabbits with my teeth.

  His upper lip twitches.

  Finally releasing me from his impenetrable gaze, he pulls a watch from his vest pocket and looks at the time, then replaces it. “I must be going.”

  Father’s eyes go wide as he speaks in his friendliest tone, but I can still make out the desperation in his words. “Surely, Mr. Devereaux, you will stay a while longer and allow me the chance to regain what I have lost?”

  The man stares down his nose at me as he adjusts his gloves, barely paying attention to Father. “I am afraid that will not be possible at this time. I have other business I must attend to.”

  The longer he watches me with cold detachment and eyes that scrutinize and judge, the more my annoyance turns to anger. Surely after this evening, he knows the kind of man my father is, and he knows that I must be doing the best I can with this life I was born into…

  Then I frown. Why on earth would I care what this man thinks? A man of so little honor that he would take the last of our money because of a stupid betting game… a man who could lose ten times as much and not feel its effects.

  His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow. The howling of lesser demons starts up in the dis
tance as the sun begins to lower.

  “Very well, Mr. Devereaux, do be careful until you are settled for the night,” Father says, unaware of the strange exchange between us.

  I remain rooted in place as the man sneers at me before turning to my father and giving him a dark smile. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. I will return soon to settle the debt,” he says in a rich, languid tone.

  “It is a shame you came into town on the same day the vampires did.” Father shakes his head, sneering at his glass of wine before taking a large gulp and finishing it off.

  Mr. Devereaux raises one dark brow, finally looking away from me to Father and says, “Indeed.”

  They shake hands then he strides toward the door. His gaze cuts to me, narrowing with menace. His eyes look almost black in the dim lighting, save for the faintest hint of deep blue framed by thick, black, enviable lashes. Then he’s out the door and gone before I can begin to understand what his problem with me could possibly be.

  “Close the door and get in here, girl. You’re letting all the heat out,” Father snaps.

  I jump into action, closing the door after our guest. Then I look down at my hands smudged with dirt. He must think I’m nothing more than some lowly servant. I’m sure I have dirt on my face as well. I rub a spot on the side of my finger. Not dirt. But dried blood from when I pulled my arrow free from that beast.

  “Where have you been? I thought I’d told you not to wander today,” he scolds.

  My head snaps up. He acts as if we have all the money in the world, yet it’s only thanks to my ‘wandering’ that we still have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies most days. “I was out getting this,” I retort, flinging the small bag of coins at him then turn toward the room to check on Kathrine.

  “That’s it?” he demands from behind.

  “Yes, I had to get Kathrine’s medicine—” I keep my fists at my side to keep from clutching the small vial of liquid in my pocket, lest he take it from me to sell.