Halfway Bitten

by Terry Maggert

  I tapped my fingers on a tooth, thinking. “Gran, do you think she’s alone?” Despite Collette’s gasp of protest, I didn’t look away from Gran, who shook her head in the negative. “I didn’t think so. You know what concerns me almost as much as your clan being erased? I mean, sure, it’s bad to have ghouls running around without any sheriffs to keep them in line, but I’m a little more worried about all of the water between here and Stormont lands.”

  Collette’s face closed like a fist. I knew my thoughts were in order, so I pointed toward the Canadian border with a grin. “You’re no more alone than I am, Collette. What you don’t have is magical help, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t some vampire groupies hanging around, guarding your coffin.” I craned my neck, looking. “Are they watching us? Where is your coffin? You would have to be pretty well insulated against a journey like that. Got a couple wannabes on the line, doing your dirty work?”

  Her set expression told me I was right. For a long moment, no one said a word. Then Gran cleared her throat with meaning, and Collette looked interested, but not alarmed.

  “We could certainly forgive this incursion into our lands. I won’t let it be said that my family is unreasonable, nor incapable of being thankful. Why won’t you disclose your suspicions? It may save your life, and it will certainly save the lives of your assistants.” At the worry on Collette’s face, Gran smiled. “You hadn’t considered that whatever is killing your clan will surely stop you from turning the humans under your protection?” Gran sighed, a sound of mirth and pity. “You must be harried to the point of letting details slip. Let me assure you that we may be watched by your people, but there are other eyes on us, too. I can feel them.”

  Collette’s face tumbled like a burning pile of timbers, and I realized that she was fine boned and vulnerable, qualities that appealed to my better nature. “I had hope to rebuild, if only so that I could rest. Some of us were discovered during the day. We were—they were taken. There were no signs, no fight, nothing. Soundless.” She shuddered at the last word. For a vampire to be surprised would involve a near-mythical predator. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was killing the clans—and it was certainly clans, because Collette was hardly alone in her plight. Phillip was alone, as was she. Reason told me that there would be others, all part of some mass predation creating a hole in the population of the Everafter, although to what end I couldn’t begin to guess.

  I raised a hand and pointed at the vampire, reaching a decision based on Gran’s expression and my own instincts. “Will you submit to a geas? We will place you under our protection, but only if you agree not to prey on anyone in these lands. Forfeiture of that promise will result in your end.” I made a conciliatory gesture at her protest. “The geas does not include your human allies. Should they submit to your feeding of their own free will, you may use them for sustenance, but only enough to maintain your life. Is that understood?”

  Just as I suspected, she seized the opportunity; never let it be said that fear isn’t a brutal motivator. I’ve cast dozens of geas spells, so there was not preparation for me to create the willowy tie between our souls. With a wave of my charms, a cool blue light passed from me to the chest of Collette, settling into her with a brief popping noise. She jerked, but stayed standing.

  “Do you feel our connection?” I asked. I wasn’t entirely certain that the geas would hold, given that undead are free of the burdens that a soul can bring. Apparently, the spell hit home, because I felt the knowing tingle of Everafter between the vampire and me. At Collette’s nod, Gran pursed her lips and blew delicately at the sphere of light that danced above her hand. The globe disintegrated in a shower of golden sparks, and with its dissipation, Collette’s shoulders loosened in relief. In her eyes, doom had been postponed for the moment.

  “My, umm, assistants are frightened,” Collette admitted. The ball, it seemed, was rolling.

  “Interesting choice of words, but I understand what you mean,” I replied, granting her a wintry smile. “Do you mean more frightened than they usually are, given that they’re captive to an undead killer?”

  The vampire inclined her head, a chill grin of her own meeting mine. “More. We’ve lived in an urban setting for . . . for some time. Consequently, my cattle are used to certain niceties, like order. I can sense that there is a wild discord among your town. Can you not feel the same thing?”

  “We can,” Gran chimed in. “And we are prepared to meet any threat that may arise. You may rest assured of that fact.”

  Again, Collette nodded, but with more respect. Gran had that kind of aura, and even the sassy vampire knew the depths of her power. “There was a murder here, and yet it remains unsolved. This is a quiet town, a place of order, and charm, and if I may say so, some degree of appeal. For a living settlement,” she added with the hint of a sniff. “But I have been in that tent with, what? A thousand people? And I did not see a single constable among them.” She lifted a gullwing brow at us and waited.

  “I—well, I’ll be damned.” She was right, and I was stumped by her observation. “Gran?” I asked, loading the word with uncertainty. It was unthinkable that there wasn’t a single sheriff or state officer among that throng. Something was seriously off with the entire scene.

  Gran closed her eyes in thought. When they opened, resolve mingled with curiosity as she said, “I think that the ringmaster might be more than a simple showman.”

  Collette’s eyes flashed with anger. “You’re just now discovering this? I was forced to come here. My clan is gone. My lands, unprotected. I am one of many enduring this fate, and no matter how grotesque you judge me to be, when vampires are removed, chaos will reign. I say to you again, we vampires have been summoned with the intent that we will bend a knee to an unseen power. And that is a path to chaos.”

  My face heated at Collette’s audacity, but a quelling look from Gran made me take a breath and uncurl my fingers. Stars above, but I hated dealing with smug undead, even when they happened to be right. “I’ll grant that some of your worries are correct. But what about evidence? We cannot move on people who might be innocent pawns of your desire for power.”

  “My desire?” Collette sputtered. Her indignation was sort of fun to watch. I could get used to seeing a vampire brought up short; they were always so damned shifty. “What about this, witch?” She brandished a small, innocuous-looking necklace, consisting of a leather thong and a shark’s tooth no bigger than the end of my thumb. It was clasped to the necklace with a simple loop of the leather, looking primitive and druidic.

  “May I see?” Gran reached out, taking the necklace from Collette’s cool fingers. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she handed it to me. “Look at the side of the tooth, Carlie. Use your vision.” The emphasis told me to let my witch senses play about the small tooth; whatever was to be seen was invisible to human eyes.

  My witchmark spiked painfully. “Ohh . . .” I began, putting a hand quickly to my neck. There, on the side of the tooth, was an inscription. A glyph, really, since it was only a single symbol. The infinity sign glowed softly under my vision; a figure eight lazily on its side, pulsing with a soft, poisonous light that fell between garnet and black. I looked sharply at Gran, who nodded. She’d seen it too. It was a magical mark, intended only for beings who knew the Everafter. There was latent power within it, but I couldn’t be certain what for, other than to say it was almost certainly related to the same things that always concern vampires: status and ownership.

  “Who gave this to you?” I asked Collette, handing the necklace back with some relief. There was an uneasy air about the thing, and I was glad to be rid of it. She slipped it over her head before answering in a tone of frustration and diluted fear.

  “It wasn’t a gift. It’s a brand. A claim. It was presented to my assistant when he left our home. During the day.” Collette added this last detail by way of explaining that daylight was not her friend. I knew some vampires were perfectly capable of surviving weak sunlight, but th
at didn’t mean it was without cost. Her ability to discern the purpose of the necklace revealed that, at the very least, Collette was several decades old. Vampires aren’t created with natural magical senses, they ease into them as they become less human over time. She stiffened, lifting her nose to the air like a wolf. When Wulfric did it, the gesture was primal and exciting. When Collette repeated the gesture, my skin crawled. I guess I’m biased, but then again, Wulfric’s human half fairly reeked of nobility. His big hands were kind, not fearsome, and he lacked the oily angles of every vampire I’ve met. She ceased her creepy sniffing and turned back to us. “I must go, there are too many undead out tonight. It isn’t safe.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Safe for whom?” The notion of her being afraid seemed fanciful at best. She was a killer.

  She took a step toward the darkened area along the lake where the circus lights wouldn’t reach. “I’m in an RV at the campground, number sixteen.”

  “An RV? You?” I hooted. “Kinda low rent for someone of your lineage, isn’t it?”

  “I own a vintage Airstream with a fully restored interior, if you must know,” Collette began, heatedly.

  I began to laugh even harder.

  “What are you on about, witch?” Her anger was spectacular, if controlled.

  When Gran shot me a meaningful glance, I wiped my eyes and waved at Collette. “You don’t look like a hipster. A vintage RV. And a vampire. I’ve seen it all now.” I was loading another verbal dart when I realized she wasn’t responding to me.

  Collette faltered as a nervous series of blinks transformed her face into a more human apparition. She was scared. “I’m alone, Carlie. My clan is dead, and I’ve been given a magical summons to swear my fealty to an unknown power. That doesn’t mean that every other clan wouldn’t like me gone. Stormont lands are held in high esteem, and—I am alone.” With that, she nodded at Gran, favored me with a dismissive glare, and vanished into the night.

  Great. A vampire with feels. So much for gloating.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: I Swear It Just Slipped Out

  “She stinks of fear.” Wulfric’s voice drifted to us from somewhere in the dark, causing me to twitch a bit.

  Gran merely smiled, which led me to believe she had a lot of explaining to do about her overall powers. The night had been educational if nothing else, and I regarded her with side eyes before leaning in to kiss Wulfric as he bent to me. He’d moved without sound; a rather neat trick that was either creepy or useful, depending on whose side he was on.

  “Hello, Gran,” Wulfric said, his voice light. He’d taken her offer to call her by the familiar, and she wore it well. So did he, since they both smiled at each other in the darkness, a companionable aura settling on us as we turned to walk toward Main Street.

  “You were listening the entire time, I presume?” Gran asked. I could hear the approval in her voice. She loved a good skulking as much as anyone.

  “Yes, and that vampire is not merely frightened, she is dangerous. Her fear has transcended the possibility of random violence. She is prepared to swear allegiance to something much stronger than her own abilities. Or someone,” he added as a clarification. We weren’t necessarily dealing with someone from the Everafter, it was just mighty likely. I twined my fingers through his, kissing his knuckles as we walked. In short order, the conversation became a rapid-fire question and answer session in which it was determined that the clowns, those poor guys, were most likely being held against their will.

  “They have a trailer—two in fact. Those mobile homes you are so fond of for camping.” Wulfric snorted, his disdain for amateur outdoor enthusiasts overcoming his need to remain on topic. I laughed at his disgust, thinking that a man who’d sailed to the Americas in dragonships a millennia ago might regard camping as glorified playacting. In context, he was right. “They’re not vampires, but they aren’t human, either.”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  “After their performance, they removed the makeup. They don’t look well. And there is a pervasive aura of fear so thick that it made their living space feel like a slaughterhouse,” he stated, drawing from his own history as a Viking. Fear and violence were two things that a warrior of his age would know intimately. He let a thoughtful breath pass his lips, adding, “The ringmaster visited them, unaware that I was watching. His behavior is inhuman, of that I am certain. He castigated each person in turn, and I knew his bearing. He is a . . . a master, a punisher. His role is to cow them and force their hand into something, and judging by their reek and body language, the process is nearly complete.”

  “Person?” I asked. That was a specific term, and it couldn’t be accidental. Wulfric hailed from a time when inaccurate speech could get you killed. He chose his words carefully.

  “Indeed, they were people. One of them was a woman.” We fell into a short silence, considering that fact.

  Our conversation expanded into a complex discussion of motivations, plans, and conclusions. We walked Gran to her house and said our goodnights, only to have her leave us with one thought. “It wouldn’t hurt to ask Brendan’s opinion on these new beings. They’re old. They’ve got history behind them, and people like that have a story that might be written down.” With that, she smiled, closed her door, and left us standing next to each other in the sudden stillness.

  We made our way to my own home with a tired wariness brought on by the realities of our situation. There were enemies among us, and they were capable of bringing powerful vampires to heel. Power among denizens of the Everafter is directly related to time; that’s why Wulfric, despite being a hybrid, is such a force to be reckoned with.

  My house welcomed us, as did Gus. I went about my evening routine, thinking slightly ahead to the mundane pleasure of cooking at the diner, then let my thoughts focus on Wulfric. He stood in my kitchen, a look that braided joy and lust on his face, and it came to me that I didn’t want him to go back to the woods. Not tonight, and probably not ever. Despite our differences, we fit. He was loyal, noble, kind, and above all else, he belonged. We belonged, like a team, and the passion between us transcended the possibility that I was wrong about this man who had literally come in from the cold to be with me.

  “We should talk, Carlie.” Wulfric lobbed those four words like a hand grenade made of ice.

  I froze in place, my breath catching in the back of my throat. A wave of dizziness knocked me sideways for an instant. But I don’t get seasick, and my legs returned to me as I took a breath so deep it hurt my ribs. I regarded him with a level gaze, mustering my courage into a stream of thoughts that my lips would make real. “If you say those words again, I’m going to punch you, and then I’m going to cry. I think you should listen to me, Wulfric.” I was all in, and I wouldn’t let my emotional momentum fade. It was too important. I knew love. I am loved. I wanted to tell this former stranger that his quiet laughter and warmth were the first thing I thought about with every breaking day. I shook the dice in my hand and let them go to clatter against the walls of chance and luck.

  “I love you.” My voice was steady, but my heart was muttering in a dance of wary hope. I did. I loved him, and I was going to let it be known. “I’ve lived two decades without you just fine, and you a hundred without me, but I want you, because I love you, and I don’t want the sun to rise again without you hearing it from me.”

  He stood with the stillness of a pond at dusk, nothing moving on its surface, but his eyes revealed the motion of his heart and all that he felt in that moment. He lifted one hand, and I went to him. He didn’t even kiss me; we just sort of leaned together like the old stones of a church; perfectly fitted, content, but warmed from within rather than the sun. We could make our own light.

  “I have wanted to say that. Do you know, I have only said those words once before?” His voice was muffled, lips moving in my hair.

  “When?” I asked, looking up at him. His eyes were travelling somewhen just then.

  Without looking down, he smiled. “My moth
er. She was a sour woman, bereft of warmth, but I loved her.”

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t understand what he felt, but I could sense the tension in the expanse of his chest as the memory came back, unwelcome and hurtful.

  Looking down, he dropped a light kiss on my lips, setting my body ringing with a swirl of heat and sorrow. “I love you, and I fear you.”

  “You shouldn’t. I know why, but it isn’t fear.” I knew the difference. I understood his confusion.

  “Carlie. I am a thousand years old. And, the reality is half of me isn’t human. I cannot think you have yet to notice this?” he said, but his words were light, the tone playfully mocking.

  I nodded, admitting the facts of his argument. And then I plunged on anyway, because those were the very reasons that Wulfric was man enough to be mine.

  “You might say those qualities sealed the deal, but I’ll explain it to you anyway. I’m a witch, with a beating heart that isn’t entirely my own. It belongs to my family, and my lands, and now, to you, if you’ll have it. We have mountains between us, but a clear path should we decide that we’re worth it. I’ve decided. Have you?” My cheeks burned with uncertainty. If this was love, no wonder everyone went nuts. I felt naked before him, and not in the good way.

  His face tumbled with decisions, then he reached for me and lifted me up to twine my legs around him with a satisfaction that felt like going home. I held his broad jaw in my small hands, looking into eyes that weren’t really black—they were layered, like ice under coal, and in that moment they glittered with a heat that sent my own desire careening upward like a storm. I kissed him, hard, and he responded with a low hum of thrill that made me croon into his lips as the steps creaked under our weight.