I knew she’d killed many. I could feel it. When she smiled, her teeth were even and white, the fangs hidden by the plump upper lip that curled up as she began to survey the crowd. What was she looking for? Her eyes flickered across the faces illuminated by the erratic, wobbling spotlights. I was really tired of those stupid lights, and if it wouldn’t cause people to stampede in fear, I would’ve popped them all with a single word. I let discretion win out over my irritation, and the lights continued their relentless, spasmodic sweeping of the crowd.
The biggest spotlight landed on Gran, lingered for a moment, then moved on, and I heard both vampires utter words of satisfaction in some unknown dialect. The male leaned forward in his seat as his hands began to flutter with excitement. He was average height, thin—aren’t they all, they’ve been on a permanent juice cleanse for who knew how long—and dark. Everything about him was dark. Eyes, hair, clothes, but of course his skin was that nerdy shade of pale you can only get from living inside for . . . well, forever. He didn’t point in Gran’s direction, but his body was rigid with attention.
I knew that Gran was in no great danger, but the chance to pluck any information at all overpowered my initial desire to unleash a ray of sun into both of the bloodsuckers. How dare they even look in her direction? My anger began to boil, and I felt the delicious fingers of rage whisper up my neck to set my cheeks aflame. Unlike most witches who practice caution, I throw care to the wind when it comes to my family. Anyone would feel that way; the difference with me is that I have centuries of magical energy at my disposal, and I’m not afraid to cut it loose. My charms flashed hot and cold in waves of reflexive emotion, and I had to forcibly bite my tongue to keep a spell from popping off like a relative who’s had too much wine at Christmas.
It was touch and go, believe me. In my anger, I failed to note that the music announcing the show’s end had come and gone. I had seconds at most before people began filing out, the ringmaster had vanished, and the vamps stood, glared at each other, and began departing in different directions. The woman came in my direction and her lips were moving in what was certainly dirty words in some language. She was unhappy, and her pretty features were contorted in the kind of face that means someone is about to get hurt. That was interesting, because I’d assumed they were a couple, or at the very least pair-bonded out of duty to some clan.
When she reached the end of the bleachers, the vampire stepped off. She didn’t leap, or jump, or brace herself, she simply took a short step, fell, and landed with the impact of a feather. When her feet hit the sawdust, she grimaced, brushed at her dark pants, and began to turn away. Lips parted in hunger, she began to size up the crowd, and I knew it was too late to stop the male from feeding. Vampires fed nightly unless they were young or wounded; a fact that led to tracking them easily. I didn’t like knowing that they found a victim every night, but in a grim sense it made my job easier. I simply had to listen for screams, or look for the signs.
But the vampire in front of me? I was about to ruin her night.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
At my words, she froze in place, then turned to face me with a quizzical half-smile on her lips. Vampires are notorious for being easy to read; they have two effective settings—hungry and sneaky—and the angular beauty of their faces always reflect one or the other. In this case, unknown female vampire number one was hungry, which in turn meant that she was ready to turn on the charm at the drop of a collar. In the darkness between the bleachers, I looked like a perfect snack.
A silky look swept over the pale oval of her face, which was hovering in the dark with near luminous beauty. Her eyes were dark chips that glinted with a feral hunger. She was still in that creepy stance that vampires adopt when they’re sizing you up for a bite; it set my teeth on edge that she regarded me in that manner but, after all, I’d baited her into doing it. Her fangs drew downward as she pulled at one lip with her long, mobile fingers in a playful imitation of flirtation. Nothing about her was real, I knew, but I had to give her credit. Without saying a word, she’d told me a story of lust and desire that confirmed I was in the right place at the right time.
As for her, well, the next few seconds would determine how long she lived.
“Yesss, dear?” she trilled, low and coy. Her lips pursed into something between opportunity and invitation. That’s the problem with vamps; they don’t see anyone as a threat. I detest that kind of arrogance in everyone except quarterbacks and lead guitarists.
I held up my arm, charms jingling in happy metallic notes. “Quite a show we’ve just seen, won’t you say?”
She laughed at me, a hint of antiquity in her breathy rasp. “If you say so. I doubt you’ll feel this way later, but for now, enjoy what you’ve seen.” There was triumph in her voice. I know when I’m being left out of a joke. I don’t like it.
I took a step toward her. That gave her pause, but then her eyes went wide when she sensed my nature. Let me just say that being sniffed by anything other than a pet is just weird, especially if the sniffer is deciding whether you’re good enough to eat. Watching her nose twitch like a hamster made me queasy, but I covered the feeling with a question.
“You’ve mistaken me for a human. Let’s start with something simple. Why are you here?” I held my hand casually before me, and yes, I had two spells ready. One can never be underprepared.
There was a short pause, before she blinked, cleared her eyes, then blinked again. She was using some sort of racial sight on me, and it wasn’t working. Score one for my family magic.
“I’m a witch,” I offered, by way of moving things along. “And you are, of course, a vampire. My boyfriend’s a half vampire, so you’re getting the benefit of the doubt right now, and by that I mean you aren’t ashes.”
When she raised her blonde brow at me, I explained, “You know. Toast. Kablooie. Finito.” I made an explosive gesture with my hands, setting my charms jingling. Her eyes cut at the silver shapes, then came back to rest on my face. I had her attention.
Lights began to come on in the tent, so I asked again, with more force, “The things I need to know. Who. Why. What. Stuff like that. You should start talking now.” I cocked a hip and prepared to wait up to ten seconds before I got an answer.
She was going to run, and I felt her body tense just before Gran’s voice rang out from behind her. “I think you’ll want to chat, dear. My granddaughter has been rather polite . . . for the moment.”
The vamp twitched once, then set her feet without turning. Her head swayed as she decided who the bigger threat was, then settled again on me since Gran was an unknown. It was the smart move, given that any movement might be construed as aggression, and the math of two witches and one vampire was in our favor by a large margin. I smiled disarmingly, but said nothing to disabuse our visitor of my potentially-violent nature.
“Collette,” she ground out. The name was uttered as a curse, and there were high spots of color on her cheeks. So, vampires could flush with anger. Good to know.
“And where are you from, Collette?” I asked, still polite.
She sagged a bit, but it was an act. Vampires don’t admit defeat. They negotiate, trick, or cheat. It’s in their nature. Still, she spoke. “Originally, or now?”
“How about both?” I asked. My charms winked ominously in the lights, turning on one at a time to facilitate the crowd’s departure.
“As if you would understand—” Collette began, but Gran’s noise of derision interrupted her.
Gran stepped to within a pace of the vampire and pointed to her hand, which was held out, palm up. “I want you to look here, Collette, so that there can be no further misunderstandings.” Without waiting for an answer, Gran began to sketch in the air above her hand. In a series of elegant, loping motions, I watched her long fingers trace some unknown shape in the air. A filament of golden light trailed behind her fingertip and, in seconds, a fairly good, if cartoonish, sun with rays in a circle around it had taken form.
“I didn�
�t know you could draw, Gran.” I smiled, and she rewarded me with a narrow gaze.
“Don’t patronize me, Carlie. I know my limitations.” With a grin, she pursed her lips and blew at the sculpture of light, setting the sun and its accompanying rays adrift . . . toward Collette. The vampire sneered, but it was a nervous, defensive noise, and then the sun landed on her chest with a sizzle.
Collette’s gasp of pain was so vivid I felt tears spring to my own eyes before I could control my emotions. The stench was ungodly—somewhere between rotted meat and hot pavement—and Collette’s back arched in pain as she staggered and slumped to the ground without another word. Gran smiled beatifically at the creature, who had once been human, but now was only worthy of Gran’s most devious scorn.
Or so I thought.
With a tender gesture, Gran extended a hand to Collette, who quite naturally regarded her with open hostility and suspicion.
“I won’t use my magic again, unless you prove to be difficult. I don’t enjoy inflicting pain, as I can surmise that your whole existence is predicated upon finding a way to live with the unnatural horror of your own curse. Do you understand, Collette? I pity you, I don’t hate you. Now, answer my Carlie so that we may bring a close to this unpleasant discussion.” Gran pulled Collette upright and stepped back, folding her hands in a sign of peace.
It took a long moment for the vampire’s natural healing ability to remove any effects of Gran’s spell. I made a note to ask her about that bit of magic—it was damned impressive, and utterly new to me. Even in her eighth decade, she was teaching me that it was wrong to think I knew everything about her. I loved her even more for that.
Collette was no coward, of that much I was certain. Her eyes glinted like candle flame as she concluded an internal dialogue filled with ifs and buts, all of which led her to decide that, for the moment, talking was better than being treated to another of Gran’s impromptu tanning bed sessions.
“Ontario.” One word, ground out between her pretty little fangs, but it was a start. When Gran and I flanked her and indicated she should start walking away from the tent—and prying eyes—Collette put on a game face and stared straight forward. I noticed that she was a delicate woman, who had likely been turned just into adulthood. She was, like all vampires, a shameful waste of a good person, and my heart softened, until her long fingers flexed unconsciously. That predatory gesture shattered my temporary goodwill, and I steeled myself for the next few minutes.
“What part of Ontario, Collette? It’s a big place,” I asked, seeing Gran’s nod of approval. We had an unspoken moment that could best be summed up as keep her talking.
“I’m not alone, you know. Yes, you can hustle me out of there, but—I am not without connections.” There was a desperate hint to her protest, and I knew that she was most certainly on her own. That was a wedge, and I knew that we could use it against her to our benefit, but only if we acted quickly. With each step into the breezy night air, we were further away from the imaginary safety of a crowd. I say imaginary because magical beings have no compunctions about stealing victims anywhere, at any time. There are no limitations to what predators will do when they think that their escape is guaranteed, and a vampire was among the apex killers associated with the Everafter.
Gran stopped, hemming Collette with her presence as I took the lead. There was something unnerving about how calm Gran could be, but then I remembered she was on the side of the angels and a smile pulled at my lips. It was time to get down to business.
“I—excuse me, we—know that you’re not only alone, but in conflict with other vampires who are here. It’s your nature. So”—I waved an airy hand as if it was already common knowledge that she was going to spill the proverbial beans—“in the interest of time and your own safety, why don’t you tell us your reason for being here tonight. Specifically, why this circus in our town.”
Collette’s fine blonde brows rose at my declaration that we owned the town. We don’t, technically, but the protection of Halfway is our concern, so I’m comfy using that terminology. Plus, I didn’t really care what some Canadian fanger thought of our powers. Don’t get me wrong, Canadians are delightful, but when they eat people, not so much. Not even my close, personal love affair with Canadian maple syrup could overcome a general disdain for compulsive cannibalism and blood drinking, although on some mornings, when the waffles are perfect, it’s a tight race.
“As I said, I’m hardly alone. But yes, I am in competition with others here.” She looked at Gran, then shrugged in some form of acceptance. “I wasn’t always in this position. None of us were.” Her words were bitter and clipped.
“What position is that?” I asked. Better to keep things short.
“Being—like a dog. Having no clan.” Drops of blood appeared on her lip where she bit down with barely-contained anger. “Before you continue with your incessant questions, my clan is gone. As is that of Leopold.”
“The vampire you were with in the stands?” I asked. Gran titled her head with great interest. Something was missing from this entire narrative.
“Yes. He’s Austrian, but has been here, or rather in Canada, for quite some time. He too is without a place in our hierarchy, and it’s a dangerous way to exist,” Collette admitted.
“I want to believe you, truly I do.” Gran’s voice was even, but her eyes twinkled with curiosity. She sighed, flicking her fingers downward at the earth. “If this Leopold is from Austria, and you are from Ontario, then I presume that you made arrangements for safe travel?”
“What do you mean?” Collette stiffened. She didn’t like the question, because she didn’t know the answer. I did.
“I think what my grandmother wants to know is who helped you cross all of that running water?” I asked.
Collette flinched as if struck. Ahh. So she isn’t alone.
I met Gran’s eyes and caught her miniscule nod to go on.
“You must have support here in some shape or another and, therefore, you aren’t alone.” I let my charms jingle ominously, although they sounded more or less like laughing fae. It was tough to come off as a badass when your primary weapon sounded like a metallic giggle. “So, you’re lying, and that’s a problem. You see our situation?”
Gran chuckled, a modest noise that she accompanied with a friendly grin as her hands began to wave again. Light began to accrue in the palm of her left hand, small at first, but growing to a tennis-ball sized globe of soft golden light. It hung an inch from her skin, swirling slowly in a spin that cast dancing shadows and light across our faces like a guttering candle.
“The Vampire Collette,” Gran whispered at the ball of sunlight. Her word caused the light to pulse, flicker in recognition, and then settle into a modest yellow color somewhere between straw and gold. She smiled apologetically at the vampire, who knew that running was now suicide. I didn’t know that Gran could make smart bombs, and certainly not any weapons that were so pretty to look at. The spell was now bound to Collette by her name, a power that was akin to the pattern of her soul. She could no more outrun the light than one can avoid their own shadow. Her die was cast.
The realization of the spell’s intent landed on Collette like a blow. I swear her skin rippled with anger, but she mastered her emotions and looked at Gran, and then me, with a glare that was hotter than an ironworker’s furnace.
After a silence that was awkward, then pensive, then back to awkward, she spoke. “I am the least of your problems, Witch,” she began. For some opaque reason she addressed me, even though Gran was holding a dose of killer sunburn in her hand. Vampires are beholden to their desires, but they’re rarely stupid.
Except for now. At our frigid response to her opening, she flinched, hurrying to elaborate. “I have felt many clans here this night, and seen evidence of many more on my journey here. But yes, I am not entirely alone, although my clan is no more.” She shrugged, a minor gesture of frustration. “I suspect that there are other solos here as well. Shiftless vampires who have bee
n forced into motion.”
“Why shiftless?” I asked. The hum from Gran’s spell filled the air between the three of us, adding a sense of urgency to the discussion.
Again, Collette shrugged. “I assume we are all the last members of our clans. I know I am. And before you ask, I am—was—a member of Clan Stormont, and I have seen over a century of our history wiped out in the last decade. We have been . . . hunted. I am the last.”
Gran said nothing, but I could see her thoughts wheeling about. Stormont had been a clan of some note, controlling several cities along the Canadian border. If they were gone, that meant that there was a power vacuum. I didn’t envy the human populace of that area, but I would dwell on that later. For now, the burning question was who, and to some extent, why Collette was the last of her clan.
“How were you hunted?” I asked, impressed. I couldn’t imagine actively seeking to stalk vampires; they were second only to werewolves and demons in terms of raw, unbridled power.
“I don’t know. No one ever survived whatever it was that . . . took us.” She frowned in remembrance. “A few years ago we began travelling in pairs, but even that did nothing to stop our fall. Something selected us, weakest first, and as of last year, I was alone. We had no master, no council. There was nothing except chaos.”
“What kind of chaos? Don’t vampires bring their own kind of uproar to a city?” Gran asked, her voice ripe with disdain.
“Fine, whatever you say, but we do control the rougher denizens of the Everafter. Without us, there is an explosion of ghouls. Stormont lands fairly reek of the undead, and not my kind. There are half-turned zombies, wights, and even mummies from who knows where turning the streets into a killing ground.” She looked at us both in turn, her jaw set in determination. “I know what you think of my kind but, without us, there is entropy on a scale that will render some areas of our land uninhabitable. Or worse.”
Halfway Bitten Page 14