Sinning Again

by Heidi Lowe

  I failed to warm to all of them, in fact. Once we were all seated and introductions had been made, and the meeting was underway, I found that apart from the obvious, these people were nothing like Jean.

  "It's not just about making a statement."

  "No, it's about ensuring our safety, our survival."

  "Now that we know the humans aren't responsible, we must take action."

  "We should never have allowed them to coexist with us, and in such close proximity."

  "Total annihilation is the only answer. Taking our lives has become sport to these hounds."

  And so on and so forth. I listened with growing concern as they talked themselves into mass murder, as they justified it. This wasn't so much a strategy meeting as a place to convene with like-minded people, in an effort to make themselves even more blood-thirsty than they already were.

  "Their camp will be difficult to track down," someone said. "They live off the grid, deep in the woods. They'll always have that advantage over us. They would smell us coming before we were able to get close."

  I pressed my lips together as though trapping a secret. Which I was. I knew where the camp was. At least, I knew the area. Dallas had taken me once, and I could remember the way. Thing was, I didn't want them to know it.

  Jean sighed. "I know someone who might be able to help us."

  I looked at her, horrified. Was she going to sell me out, force me to tell these monsters? After what she'd promised?

  She didn't look at me when she spoke, and I took that as a sign that she was about to betray me.

  "Okay, then let's get them here and get the information we need."

  "I'll do no such thing." She stood up. "I've listened to all of your complaints, all of your appeals for why the Weres should die. And, quite frankly, I'm not convinced."

  I watched her carefully, let out a relieved breath. Of course she wasn't going to betray me. How foolish of me to think she would.

  "What is this nonsense?" one guy said, an older guy. I'd already forgotten his name. "You mean to prevent us from seeking justice? We've lost several of our own, and you don't consider that a convincing enough argument?"

  They all seemed to agree with his outrage. And that in itself was frightening. What if they suddenly turned on me and Robyn, as revenge? She wouldn't be able to stop them all.

  "We have to be better than them," Jean said. "If we go around killing them, we'll be just as bad as they are. We've worked so hard to gain respect from a society that, once upon a time, sought to wipe us all out. I don't want to go back to that."

  "They're dogs! Just flea-ridden beasts the world would be better without." This came from the young boy, whose name had stuck. Oliver. You remembered the names of those you hated. There was a madness in his eyes.

  "That may be, but we shouldn't be the ones to rid it of them. We can make them leave, put the fear of our entire race in them. That should suffice."

  "You're a fucking moron!" Oliver spat. "You probably still think you're human too, I imagine. Just because your meal sleeps in your bed, doesn't make you any less of a fanger. Wake up."

  They were suddenly face to face, snarling at each other, fangs out. They'd moved so quickly, they'd looked like nothing more than shapes and colors flying across the room.

  "Enough of this." It was the tall guy with the bald head who spoke, his voice booming, seemingly making the room quake. "Arguing amongst ourselves is so common. Our fight isn't here, isn't with one another."

  "If she doesn't give us the location, it will be," Oliver said. "I have at least thirty years on you, traitor," he said to Jean.

  "I still wouldn't tell you how to get the information."

  "Oliver, stand down," bald guy said. "She's right. This isn't the way. They're a protected class. It would mean trouble for all of us."

  The older guy tutted. "Pacifism is for the weak. How many of us need to be killed before we take action?"

  "No more," Jean said. "We can scare them and send them on their way, warn other vampires of them. But no more blood need be shed."

  The Angela Merkel lookalike nodded, though reluctantly. "Very well."

  "I need a promise from all of you that no harm will come to the wolves. That is the only way you'll ever find their location. And we are just going to scare them, nothing more."

  Gradually, and grudgingly, each one agreed to her terms, even Oliver, though he looked like he wanted to throw up when he did.

  "Fine," Jean said. "I'll speak to my contact and we'll take it from there. Now, enjoy the rest of your drinks. Stay as long as you need. But please excuse us now." She took my hand and we left the room. We didn't speak until we made it to our bedroom, and then she wrapped me in a hug so tight I thought my ribs would give out again.

  It was only then that I realized how scared she was. For both of us. What I'd asked her to do could have put our lives in danger. This was why she couldn't risk giving up the name of her source – giving them my name.

  "Now you see why I distance myself from them?"

  I did.

  THIRTY-ONE

  She thought about not waking Lissa before she left. With any luck she would be back before she woke up.

  The most peaceful thing had always been watching her sleep. Nothing had changed. She usually slept this way, with one hand tucked under her head.

  She looked angelic.

  As Jean swept a strand of hair out of Lissa's face, she decided that, no matter how perfect she looked asleep, she had to tell her she was leaving. Lissa would only worry when she woke up and found her gone.

  She kissed her on the nose, and when that didn't rouse her, she kissed her earlobe, whispered, "Honey, I'm going now."

  Lissa stirred awake, and her tired expression morphed into a smile upon seeing Jean.

  "I didn't know I'd fallen asleep," she said, stretching and sitting up. "I tried to stay awake."

  "I know. You can go back to sleep when I'm gone. I just didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

  "Do you really have to go? Can't the others manage without you?"

  She'd asked before, and already knew the answer. It wasn't that they couldn't manage, it was that common courtesy required her to support her "brothers in arms". This was a group crusade. She didn't like it any more than Lissa did, but that was beside the point.

  "I'm sorry, my darling. It wouldn't be right if I didn't show."

  "I know," Lissa said, deflated. "And you promise nothing will happen to them?"

  "Not on my watch." She smiled to reassure her, but had much more difficulty reassuring herself. And she needed it more than Lissa.

  For several days, since the alliance meeting, she'd had that distinct feeling of impending doom she simply couldn't shake. It marred her days, cast a shadow over the time she spent with Lissa.

  Her body hadn't lied to her before, and she knew it wasn't lying now. That was the thing about happiness: no matter how deep it ran, or how long it lasted, eventually, something came along to fuck it up.

  She considered staying. Remaining in the bed with the woman she loved, making love to her until the the break of dawn. Lissa would have wanted it too. But maybe doing so was precisely the act that would lead to the destruction of their happiness.

  "Be careful out there," Lissa said, tossing her arms around Jean's neck. "They won't go quietly."

  "I will be." And she knew she would, because when you had someone special waiting for you at home, someone who loved you unconditionally, you made damn sure you got back home safely.

  The I love yous exchanged were quick but heartfelt, and then they parted ways. If she had looked back at her, in her crumpled satin nightgown, hair tousled from the sleep, green eyes heavy and tired, she would have stayed. She should have stayed.

  But...duty.

  Robyn was waiting in the car already. She didn't say anything when she stepped inside, just stared pensively up at her house, which seemed to loom ominously tonight.

  "Maybe she should have come with us
, you know, to show us exactly where it is," Robyn said as they pulled out of the driveway. "The directions you gave them were pretty vague."

  "She stays here. I don't want her out there while those things are roaming around," Jean said bluntly. "We can sniff them out when we're close enough. I didn't want you coming along either, but you insisted."

  "You need a human with you as a witness, in case they try to bring charges against you later," Robyn said. "And I'll be safe. The full moon was days ago. They'll be in their human form."

  "Where are the others?"

  "A couple of minutes ahead."

  "Well, let's just get this over with so I can get home to my girlfriend."

  The first sign that something was wrong came as soon as she stepped out of the car in Brady Creek. The distinct smell of death permeated the air. Thick and rancid, stale. Days old. The others looked amongst themselves, their expressions barely visible to anyone but them in the darkness.

  "Can you all smell that?" someone said.

  "What?" Robyn asked, feeling lost. Her senses weren't heightened enough to identify the stench. To her, it was the usual smell associated with the woods.

  Jean pushed past them, disappeared through the trees. The others followed after her, using their noses to guide them.

  Oliver made a glib comment that no one laughed at. Robyn tried to keep up but found she couldn't.

  Jean's boots plunged into something wet and sticky suddenly. Without looking at it she knew what it was. She'd consumed enough of the stuff over the years to know what it felt like, what it smelled like.

  The deeper she traveled into the woods, the stronger the smell got. And the more intense the sense of doom became.

  This was bad. This was very bad.

  A cabin came into view. The door was wide open, an eery silence surrounding the building. Jean charged inside, then nearly collapsed at the sight before her.

  "No," she breathed, covering her mouth with her hand. "No."

  She couldn't even count the lifeless bodies stacked on top of one another, the fur dirty and matted with dried blood. Just a pile of lifeless fur, too indistinguishable to make out how many were there.

  "Who did this?" she screamed, turning on the others who stood behind her. No one spoke.

  "Who the fuck is responsible for this?" she demanded again, her voice ricocheting off the trees.

  Robyn arrived then, peered into the dark cabin, the moonlight providing the light she needed to see the carnage for herself. Her "oh my God" came out as a terrified whisper.

  "You all gave me your word they wouldn't be harmed. That was the only reason I..." She broke off, her voice strangled in her throat. What was the point screaming at them now? What was done was done. They'd proved to be the monsters everyone knew they were. And she'd let this happen.

  "How do you know it was one of us?" Oliver said apathetically. "Lots of people hated those dogs. And not everyone was foolish enough to give them a free pass, clearly. This is a good thing."

  Jean wasn't listening to him. If she had been, she probably would have gone for his neck, and found herself in serious trouble, fighting against a vampire far stronger than her.

  She was too lost in her despair, thinking about what Lissa would say, what Lissa would think of her. She'd broken her promise; she'd failed her. She didn't care that the wolves were dead – she cared that Lissa would care.

  Happiness. Good while it lasted.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I'd bitten just about every nail down to the cuticles, waiting for Jean to get back.

  "She can take care of herself," I chorused as I paced the room. "It isn't even a full moon. They'll be no match for vampires in their human form."

  The words were logical, but they didn't stop me from panicking.

  Maybe she shouldn't have woken me. I would have been sleeping and not worrying. I should have been sleeping, as I'd agreed to do an early shift at work the following day.

  I just wanted her back in my arms, safe from the horrors beyond these walls. Away from her own kind, too. I didn't trust them any more than I trusted the Weres.

  There was a noise downstairs that made me stop in my tracks. Was she home? Already?

  I rushed out of the room to see.

  The front door was wide open, and a gust of wind blew in from the darkness. I couldn't hear the car running, or see any headlights. Just the whistle of a violent wind.

  "Jean?" I called from my safe spot on the stairs. No reply.

  I should have run back up the stairs, locked myself in the bedroom, and called the police. That would have been the smart thing to do.

  But I crept down the stairs to inspect. It had to be Sandra, if not Jean. Maybe she'd come home early from her trip to Tennessee.

  "Sandra?" was the second name I called. Silence.

  Shaking, I peered outside into the coldness. There was no one there. I checked the lock on the door. It was still intact. Strange.

  I closed the door then, and spun around to go back upstairs, to make the call I should have made in the first place, instead of playing detective.

  And then I screamed.

  Dallas put a rough hand over my mouth, dragged me from the door just as I tried to open it again and escape.

  "You're not going anywhere," she said.

  She dragged me into the living room and threw me to the floor. She was so strong, so fearsome as she glared down at me. She'd never looked like that to me before. The rancor, the pure venom contorted her face so that she looked almost unrecognizable. She smelled like beer and cigarettes. The circles under her eyes were red, like she'd been crying.

  "What do you want?" I yelled. My arm hurt from the fall.

  "They warned me about you, and I didn't listen. They said you were nothing but trouble. Your obsession with that fanger scum, that should have been a clue. But I didn't fucking listen!" She screamed the last line, and knocked some of Jean's porcelain ornaments off the cabinet. They scattered and shattered around me, on me, causing me to flinch and scream.

  "And now they're dead. My family is dead. And it's all because of you." She seemed to stagger and sway a little, like she was drunk.

  "W–what? N–no, no, they can't be. She promised–"

  "I would have been there too. I should have been. That would have worked out much better for you..."

  "Dallas, listen to me. This must be a mistake. Jean promised nothing would happen–"

  "They're dead! There is no mistake. And you led those fucking fangers to our door."

  "I'm sorry." I was crying now, crying because, as much as I didn't want to believe her, and wanted to believe that my girlfriend hadn't betrayed me, I knew she wouldn't have come here if it weren't true. This was my doing.

  She laughed humorlessly. Tears sparkled on her face. "Sorry? You're sorry? Well, that makes it all right."

  "Please don't do anything you'll regret," I pleaded, truly out of options.

  "You know, I spent days thinking about what I would do to you. How I would kill you." As she took slow, ominous steps toward me, I crawled backwards to try to get away. To suspend what was coming for as long as I could.

  "You don't have to do this," I cried.

  She wasn't listening to me. She'd come with a speech prepared. "And then I thought, there's something much worse that I can do to you. That I can do to her."

  Was she talking about Jean? What was worse than killing me?

  She twisted the necklace around her neck, the hideous thing I'd never seen her without. Her grin was heinous.

  "Remember how you wanted to know why I wore this even when it didn't go with my outfits?" She didn't wait for a response. "These stones, they're moonstones. They let us transform...without a full moon..."

  As my eyes expanded in horror at the realization of what this meant, she grimaced, her face contorted with agony. A long, deafening wail escaped her mouth. And before my eyes, her body started to morph. Hair sprouted from every visible patch of flesh, her leather jacket slowly tore.
r />   I was so mesmerized by the scene that I almost forgot to make a break for it. Now was my chance to get away, while the transition was happening.

  But as I scrambled to my feet, she advanced on me, knocked me to the couch with something that was halfway between hand and paw. Long, thick yellow nails clawed my cheek.

  Her face was still visible behind the fur as she bore down on me, fangs sinking into my neck. One single bite, but that was all she needed.

  I felt the blood gushing out of me as she stepped away. So much pain, I couldn't even scream. I pressed my palm to my puncture wound, hoping to quell the spill of blood, my eyes wide in horror, as I realized I was dying.

  She was still in the transition phase – half beast, half human – as she hurried from the room.

  And my world...became dark, darker, until there was nothing...

  At least the pain was gone.

  THIRTY-THREE

  The car hadn't yet pulled into the driveway, but she'd already jumped out and dashed toward the open door of her house. She knew something terrible had happened; she'd felt it on the drive back, and had forced Robyn to break the speed limit.

  Seeing that the door was open, her stomach did a lurch.

  "Lissa," she called, panic in her voice, in her steps, as she ran into the living room.

  And then she saw her. The scream that escaped her mouth didn't seem to come from her. Everything seemed to be happening to another person, and she was merely an observer.

  "Jean, what is it?" Robyn called.

  Jean crumpled to the floor, her knees sinking into the pool of blood that had gathered there.

  "Oh dear God," Robyn mouthed, having finally arrived and seen the damage.

  "She's not moving. She's not moving," Jean screamed. She pulled the lifeless body into her lap, desperately feeling for a pulse. "Please, baby. Come on. Please don't leave me."

  She felt it in her chest. A faint beat, but it was definitely there.