by Gray, Sophia
The way she looked at me, too, was different. If I didn’t know better I’d say that her expression was one of pride. “What do you want?” I said, wasting no time.
She looked at me, hurt on her face, and then sat on the floor. I sat down on the mattress, staring at her. She wore a robe, like I did, but hers was clean and regal-looking whereas mine was dirty and tattered. “I guess I deserve that,” she said.
I laughed. “Betty,” I said, spitting out her name. I wouldn’t call her Mother, I decided. “You deserve a lot worse than that. You treated me like rubbish my entire life, and now you show up here. What for? Why are you here?”
She looked up at me. “I have been a terrible mother, and I want to make amends. I’ve been sober now for months, ever since you left, ever since I found out that you had turned. You have to understand something; I was so angry when your father was killed, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I became a bitter woman whose only respite was a bottle. I know what I did was wrong, and that I can never make it up to you, but I hope that you will at least let me try.”
My mouth had slowly fallen open whilst she’d been talking. I’d never heard her speak with such eloquence or feeling. It was the most heartfelt, sincere thing she had ever said to me, and I found it hard to believe that she was the one saying it.
Perhaps it really had been the alcohol that had made her such a horrid woman. It could do that to people, I knew. I searched my memories, sifting through all the times my mother had been wicked to me, and sure enough each time she had been drunk.
That was bad enough, wasn’t it? A mother who spent all her time drinking was no mother at all. I tried to muster some anger, to remember the rage and sadness I’d felt when I’d been a little girl confused by her mother’s hateful behaviour, but looking at the woman before me it was hard to do.
She looked so nice, so regretful and sorrowful, her teary eyes gazing up at me. Before I knew what I was doing I’d stood up and walked over to her, and she stood as well. She flinched away from me slightly. She thought I was going to hit her. Part of me wanted to, but when I reached her I didn’t strike her; I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s okay, Mother,” I said. “It’s okay.”
I burst into tears then, and so did she. We cried for a long time. I cried not only for my mother, but for Galahad and my love for him, and for Ben, for how much I missed him. The tears were neither just sadness nor just happiness, but a mixture of both. I was happy that my mother had apologised and that we may be able to begin anew, but sad that we had never had a relationship before this. I was happy that Galahad had changed his mind about marrying me off, but sad that he had even considered such a thing. I was sad that Ben wasn’t here with me, and yet happy that he may have a normal life.
After what felt like an hour or more, we stopped crying. “What will you do now?” I said. “Go back?”
She smiled, and my heart filled with warmth. It was the first time she had ever smiled at me and it felt amazing. “No,” she said. “I’m going to become a vampire and join the Council. I’m going to say the Rites with them.”
“Who’s going to change you?” I said, astonished. My mother was going to be a vampire too! The thought made me feel hopeful. She was going to be around for a long, long time; that meant longer to work on our relationship, which meant that there was a higher chance that we’d forge a loving one.
“Galahad,” she said. “Do you know how vampires who aren’t born vampires are changed?”
I shook my head, astounded with myself. How didn’t I know this? My mother only smiled. “Well,” she said. “He has to cut a cross into his tongue and one into mine, and then we have to kiss for around five minutes. That’s one reason I wanted to talk to you before I did it. Is that okay? Do you mind if he’s the one that changes me? He told me that you two were together.”
“Of course it’s okay, Mother,” I said without thinking. Why wouldn’t it be? It was like his marriage to Isadora; he’d do what he had to, but it wouldn’t be like with me and him. There would be no passion or love in the process. “It’s no problem. Are you excited?”
She smiled. “Of course. My only wish is that I had done it sooner. Benjamin, your father wanted me to become one, but I wasn’t ready to forfeit my humanity. In a way it was good I didn’t.”
“How so?”
“Vampires can only have children with humans, so if I had changed earlier, I would never have had you.”
The knowledge hit me like a brick to the head. “I am never going to have a child?” I said.
She looked at me, her face a knot of concern. “Galahad didn’t tell you that?” she said.
I shook my head. “Oh,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
I was silent for a few minutes. Did I want children? I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t thrilled at having the choice taken away from me. And then another thought hit me. I loved Galahad, and I wouldn’t trade him for all the children in the world. So what if I would never be a mother? I would always have Galahad, and nothing could replace that.
Galahad walked in then, his face one of urgency. He didn’t even look at my mother as he crossed the room and pulled me close. “It is time,” he said, and I didn’t have to ask him time for what.
“Is she asleep?”
He laughed. “She might as well be. The Council is here and she couldn’t bear meeting them, so she drank herself into a blood-coma. She’s on her back in her room, staring up at the ceiling. She’s gone. I don’t think she’ll wake up for some time.” He handed me a stake. “Good luck.”
I nodded grimly. This needed to be done. I didn’t even think about it. It was for the good of our relationship, and it would mean avenging my father. There was no downside, as far as I could see. Yes, I’d be taking a life, but one that deserved to be taken, one that I wanted to take. It wasn’t like with Jessica, where I regretted it; I didn’t think that I would regret this. My mother nodded too. “Good luck,” she said.
I looked at her, startled that she knew, but then I realised that Galahad must’ve told her; not only would I be killing Galahad’s wife, but also my father’s killer. She wanted this to happen as badly as I did. “Where is her room?” I said.
“Leave this room and follow the curve of the cave. It’s the third room on the right.” He pricked his tongue and looked at my mother, who held her tongue out. He pricked hers too.
“You’re turning her now?” I said.
“I have to,” Galahad said. “The Council will soon speak and I want her to be a part of it. She can’t do that as a human.”
Both of them looked very uncomfortable as they looked at each other, and I felt a little awkward knowing that when I left they’d begin. They had known each other before I was born, I realised then; I’d known before, of course, but it had never really hit me. They were old friends. This would be as awkward for them as it would be for me. Still, it didn’t make me feel any more comfortable about it. I found myself regretting my quick reply to my mother’s request, but then I forced it out of my mind; there were more important things to do. I left the room as Galahad leaned down to her.
The corridor was brighter than my room, with the torches that lined the walls burning a strong orange. I walked quickly. My hands were shaking and my heart was beating, and despite my best efforts I couldn’t stop myself from being nervous.
Although I was no longer the timid girl I had been, I had never taken a life before; not as myself, anyway. I had killed Jessica Kinburrow, but that had been whilst I was under the effects of a blood frenzy. This would be different; I would have to control myself as I plunged the stake into her heart instead letting my blood-crazed self do it.
I made it to her room quickly and gazed in. She wasn’t there. My heart jumped. Where the hell was she? And then the light flickered in front of me and I heard the quiet patter of footsteps walking down the corridor. That must be her, I thought. It must be.
Galahad’s warning ran through my head. If you wake her she will kill you. She w
as awake now. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and go back to my cell, but then I remembered the way she’d looked when she’d held a sword to my throat, the smug smirk on her face. No, I thought defiantly. I wouldn’t turn around. I wouldn’t cower away. I would follow her, and I would kill her.
Sliding the stake into my waistband, I took off my robe and tore it in half, wincing at the noise it made. I was glad to be wearing a light shirt and trousers, not just my underwear like I had been before I’d met my mother, as I wrapped the torn pieces of robe around my feet.
I padded down the hallway, following the sound of Isadora’s footsteps, smiling to myself that I had had the foresight she hadn’t; my feet weren’t making any noise at all, whereas hers, with my vampire hearing, sounded like pebbles being dropped.
I kept following her, the pat, pat, pat of her feet making it a simple task. I kept my breathing low and was careful not bang into anything, lest she hear me. I was wary about getting too close. Once, I saw her shadow, big and ghoulish against the wall, and I had stayed completely still until it faded away. After that I waited for a little while before following.
Eventually she came to the exit, the opening that Galahad had opened with my father’s war-medal, and started to descend the mountain. I watched in confusion. What possible reason could she have for doing that? I thought that maybe she was running away, and debated not following her just in case it was so. If she ran away, would Galahad be free from his marriage? But then I got up and followed, after waiting enough time as to not be seen. I couldn’t risk it. She had to die. I had to have Galahad to myself.
I smiled as I thought about how quickly I had forgiven Galahad. All it had taken was for him to show me that he wanted me . . . forever. The thought hit me like a wave. “He wants me forever,” I said under my breath, as if to make it more real. It was incredible. He wanted me to kill his wife, and when I’d done that we would get married, and spend our lives together. I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.
I was still mildly angry at him for even considering marrying me off to another vampire, but his change of heart had won me over. I would kill Isadora, and then he would be mine. I swallowed as I cautiously walked to the edge.
I looked down. She was nearly at the bottom now. I lay on my belly and waited for her to reach the grass below and walk into the forest. When she had done that I went after her. The climb down was more difficult than the climb up. Every second I felt the pull of gravity, and with each tug I felt like I was going to fall.
Once again I wondered where Isadora was going. What possible reason could she have for coming out into the forest now? I couldn’t think of one and the more I thought about it, the angrier my ignorance made me. Another thought occurred to me as my anger rose: she’d recovered from her blood-coma very quickly, quicker than Galahad or I ever had.
Galahad had told me before that it took an incredibly strong and disciplined vampire to emerge from a blood-coma with such ease. I hoped that that strength and discipline didn’t extend to her fighting ability, and then immediately knew the thought silly; that sword of hers was hardly for show.
I would have to fight dirty. I gritted my teeth. That was fine. If fighting dirty was what was necessary to claim Galahad, then that is what I would do. The sun was setting, but even so the forest was still bright and alive with life. I had to make sure to use the thick tree-trunks to my advantage, lest she see me. Her footsteps were quieter out here, dulled by the soft grass and mixed with the sound of birds and other wildlife, but I could still hear them; a faint patter that was getting further and further away with each passing second.
I increased my pace. I wouldn’t lose her. I had to restrain myself from breaking into a full sprint. As much as I wanted to catch up with her, I also wanted to see where she was going. I didn’t want to attack her before she reached her destination. There were two reasons for this. The first was sheer curiosity; I wanted to know what had brought her out here. The other was strategy; if she was distracted when I came upon her, she would be easier to kill.
I tried not to think about the ritual that had probably already finished between my mother and Galahad. It meant nothing, I told myself. Despite my knowledge that it was just a cold act to change my mother into a vampire, I still wasn’t completely okay with it. I was, mostly, but there was a tiny part of me that felt uncomfortable with the knowledge that my mother had kissed Galahad. But then again that was also the same part that wanted to not forgive Galahad for his horrid behaviour before; I would ignore that part, I told myself. Our relationship was too important to threaten over something as silly as that.
I shook my head, bringing myself back to the present and the task at hand. I had to focus. This wasn’t going to be easy. I stopped for a second. Isadora’s footsteps had suddenly ceased. My mouth went dry. Had I lost her? I strained my ears, but still I couldn’t hear them, but then I heard voices.
Two voices, I knew instantly. I couldn’t make out the words, not yet, but there were definitely two voices. I followed them, being as quiet as possibly. The fabric around my feet had yet to come loose, so my footsteps were silent, but my heartbeat and my breathing was getting faster every second, and I silently cursed myself. If she was listening properly she would hear me. I hoped that she wasn’t.
As I got closer the voices became clear, and my heart froze. “Ben?” I said reflexively, and then clasped a hand over my mouth. There was no mistaking the male voice. It was Ben’s.
“My partner will be here in a second,” he was saying. “He’s just taking a piss.”
“Okay,” Isadora said, and I heard her sit on a log. “Then we’ll wait.”
“Have you ever met?” Ben said.
Isadora laughed. “Yes, and I don’t think he’ll be happy to see me.”
“Why?” Ben’s voice sounded suspicious.
“Jonathon can overreact sometimes. We had a disagreement, a while back, and I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me.”
“That can’t be true. He doesn’t know you,” Ben said. Isadora just laughed. I slithered along the floor and hid behind a tree. This was the closest I dared to get; otherwise even Ben with his human-hearing would hear me.
I decided to ignore Ben’s presence. I could deal with it after I killed Isadora. I couldn’t see him, but he sounded older and more confident than when I’d left him. His voice had gone from the shrill whine of a child to the deep monotone of a man.
I ran at Isadora, using every muscle in my vampire-body. I was on her in a second, but she must’ve been anticipating me because she turned and threw me to the ground, drawing her sword. Just then a man, an army-looking man, who I assumed must’ve been Ben’s partner, as he’d called him, walked into the clearing.
He looked at Isadora, his eyes going wide, and then pulled a knife. “You!” he said, running at her.
Ben looked down at me. “Zoey?” he said, shock and confusion plain on his face.
I had no time to reply. Isadora lunged at me.
~Final Reckoning
Vol. 4 ~
It all happened so quickly. There Zoey was, after all this time, lying on the ground before me. She looked much, much different than when she’d left me. Whereas before I found her beautiful, because I’d known her for so long and I saw past her imperfections to what was underneath, now I could see how other people would think her attractive, gorgeous even.
Her messy red hair had become light brown and long, and shone wonderfully. Whilst she still had freckles, they were no longer as dark and prominent as they’d once been, and her body, whereas before had been too skinny and girlish, now had a woman’s shape to it, lithe limbs and a full chest. My heart beat rapidly as she darted out from the trees and was thrown to the ground by Isadora— the woman who’d killed Johnny’s entire platoon back in Vietnam.
“You!” Johnny’d screamed out, staring at the woman, and then he’d quickly grabbed his crossbow. He pointed it at Isadora now.
Isadora smiled. Her sword was grazi
ng Zoey’s neck. For a second I froze, paralysed by the thought of Zoey coming to harm, but then my training kicked in and I picked up my own crossbow. I pointed it at Isadora, aiming instinctively for the heart. The trees were high around us, but even so the sun peeked through and made Isadora’s sword glisten, the blade a bright yellow and the hilt a mystical black; the diamond in the hilt glowed dull green as it always did “Remove your sword,” I said. My voice was calm and cold. I wasn’t scared or shocked anymore; I was merely focused.
My finger hovered over the trigger, ready to fire at the mildest provocation, but then Isadora lifted her sword away from Zoey. Zoey let out breath and for a moment we met eyes. What did I see there? She looked scared, shocked, determined, and . . . proud? I wasn’t sure, but I thought I saw a glint of pride gleam from her eyes. It filled me with conviction. I would finish this, and then we would be together. I would take her in my arms and we would be happy.
“You are my contact?” Johnny said.
Isadora nodded. “Yes, dearest, have you missed me?”