She Dies at the End (November Snow Book 1)

by A. M. Manay

  Getting ready for the ball was certainly more fun with Zinnia around. They helped each other with curling irons and eye liner and zippers, and both came out looking like princesses. November, true to her nature, was dressed more modestly than her harder-partying friend. All she showed off was collarbone. Even her arms were mostly covered by her opera-length gloves, and only a few scant inches of back were revealed by cutouts.

  Thankfully, there would be no grand entrance with the king this evening. His grace was greeting dignitaries in the foyer as they arrived and would sneak into the party after things were in full swing. Pine said that word about the king’s claim on her had been spread, so she should have no problem with unwanted advances from the out-of-towners.

  The ballroom was not large enough to contain this party, so it was to be an outdoor affair. The girls gasped as they peeked out a picture window when Pine escorted them downstairs. The grounds had been transformed into a wonderland. The trees were lit beautifully. Fountains glowed in Technicolor with some fairy magic no one could seem to explain. Every flower from every season was in bloom. A half dozen dance floors were scattered about, with discreet speakers bringing music to every nook and cranny. And November had been assured that the fairies had ways to keep the temperature balmy for the sake of the human “guests.” Additionally, rumor had it that there would be some extremely elegant porta-potties as well as exquisitely catered refreshments for the human element. She hoped that she would be able to handle the crowd.

  “My mom did pretty good, huh?” Pine commented. November grinned and nodded.

  Zinnia stuck by her friend for awhile until the November told her she was free to give in to her obvious urge to hit the dance floor. The king and his children were circulating, talking up the various lords.

  Lady Esther decided to hang out with November the wallflower, confined as she was to her wheelchair. November found her gossip and cutting observations about everyone both informative and hilarious, and she was thoroughly enjoying watching the dancing and listening to the music. The fairy DJ, who was evidently quite famous in EDM circles, gave the party enormous energy.

  Zinnia managed to coax her onto the dance floor a few times, and November enjoyed it in spite of herself. She danced awkwardly with Zinnia and Pine, who stared aggressively at every vampire or fairy that approached her.

  At one point, Savita came to fetch her, telling her mysteriously that there was someone who very much wanted to make her acquaintance. November found herself meeting Milton, Lord of Texas, who was determined to express his gratitude for her instrumental role in preventing the planned attack against him. He was not quite what November had expected for a Texas vampire. Short, portly, and incredibly nerdy would be putting it charitably. Still, it was a pleasant enough conversation, and it was always nice to be appreciated.

  She caught Savita examining her closely on the walk back to the terrace. “Is something wrong?” November asked. Savita just shook her head.

  Moments later, they ran into the king, who was hiding behind some shrubbery smoking his pipe. He looked terribly handsome in his obviously expensive tuxedo, a different one than he’d worn Christmas Eve. She wondered idly how many of them he had. Savita made a discreet exit. “No dancing, sir?” November asked him, smiling.

  “Perhaps if they were playing actual music,” he replied a bit haughtily.

  “Yeah, the club music is not exactly my scene, either,” she admitted. “The fairies seem to like it. I’m sure you could ask them to play something else, being the monarch and all,” she teased.

  “Yes, but why ruin their fun? You look lovely, by the way,” he commented. “Fairy necklace?”

  “Thanks. Yes, Zinnia made it for me, for my birthday.”

  “Clever girl, that one.”

  They were then interrupted, of course, by Lilith, with one of the lords in tow. November and Pine made a quick escape before Lilith’s eyes could burn holes in their heads.

  Just before the countdown to midnight, November made a quick trip to the restroom. As she emerged, she saw the fangs beginning to come out as the vampires prepared to feast, so she began to move quickly toward the house without bothering to put her gloves back on. She caught a glimpse of William near a pretty blonde. Ilyn stood close to his redhead, willing to feed in public tonight, apparently. November swallowed her unexpected jealousy.

  As she hurried along with Pine, one of the enthralled humans tripped in front of them. November reached out her bare hands to catch the girl and fell into a vision as soon as they touched. A line of dressed-up humans, enthralled into zombies. Lilith with a tray of syringes, injecting each one, most not aware enough to even wince. One protests feebly. Lilith reassures her in her most controlling voice, “Hush now, it’s just colloidal silver. It’s good for you.” The girl acquiesces with no further fuss.

  November awoke on the ground, leaping up to scream as loudly as she could, “Silver! Don’t feed! They’re poisoned with silver!”

  Even as she opened her mouth, some of the more impatient vampires were already falling to the ground, clawing at their throats. She caught a glimpse of Amy writhing in the grass, Josue looking frantic by her side. Greg was spitting blood out onto the ground, smoke coming out of his mouth, but he did not fall. It seemed he had heard the warning just in time. Those who had not yet tasted blood shoved their human companions away. Most of the humans were too enthralled to realize that something was wrong, but a few had the presence of mind to begin screaming.

  Just after November had finished uttering the last word, Lilith flew at her with impossible speed from the other side of the garden, knife in hand. November froze, eyes wide. Pine yanked her to the ground as an unseen force grabbed Lilith and tossed her in the air, an instant after the knife had left her hand.

  Ilyn grabbed the dagger from where it had lodged in the grass and examined it, and a profound sadness came over his face for a moment. The wind knocked out of her, November lay stunned on the ground, her arm stinging. Zinnia appeared at her side and squeezed her hand, asking if she was alright. November managed a nod.

  “Silence!” Ilyn ordered as he looked up at his former confidante dangling in the air. The crowd hushed, the only noise the cries of pain continuing to issue from the poisoned. He looked for November, his eyes softening with relief when he saw she was unharmed. When his gaze moved on, his rage grew as he surveyed the damage. Among them were scattered at least a dozen injured vampires, one already turned to a pile of ash. Those who still lived were in obvious agony. Rose had already dashed into the house and was returning with bags of clean blood. She distributed it to those caring for the afflicted. Those not busy dying or attending the suffering gathered around their king.

  “Humans, sleep,” Ilyn cried. The procured women all fell to the ground as one.

  Lilith didn’t even try to hide her guilt. “You worthless animal,” she screamed at November. “You’re ruining everything! For years I’ve waited for this chance –“ Ilyn used his gift to clamp her mouth shut.

  “Why?” Ilyn asked Lilith in a voice that made November shudder. His fangs glinted in the light of the trees. His face was feral. This man looked like the creature who had beheaded a thousand werewolves in one night all those centuries ago. This man bore no resemblance to the absent-minded professor who'd sat at her desk.

  “He will make me a queen!” she cried pathetically as Ilyn released her jaw.

  “As I would not? I assume you refer to Luka,” the king said evenly. “This is his knife, is it not? My wife gave it to him in her will. Fairy forged. It’s quite unique. Unmistakable.” He showed it to the crowd, who murmured with anger and agreement. The mob was terrifying to behold, all fangs and rage barely held in check. “He put you up to putting silver in their blood? To poison us all?”

  For a moment, it seemed that Lilith had regained control of herself and would say no more, but her thwarted fury and the certain knowledge of her impending doom loosened her tongue. “Yes, Luka! He will be king. I once thou
ght you were a great leader, but you are weak. He will set us free to reign over the animals as we should. The bombings were just the beginning. Tonight I have failed, but he will not be stopped!”

  “And this knife? Whose life was it meant to end? Surely not the oracle child. Luka covets her too much.” He smiled: a sharp, dangerous smile. “It was for me, correct? After all, it would take an awful lot of poisoned blood to kill a vampire of my advanced years. But the silver might have weakened me enough to be vulnerable to a more conventional attack. Did you intend to stake me with it, Lilith, dear?” His tone might make one think he was amused, until one looked at his eyes.

  “Of course it was for you!” she screamed in rage. “I gave you centuries, for what? To watch you let your throne slip away inch by inch? To watch you be betrayed by your own son? To watch you fawn over some stupid cow of a fortune teller?”

  “I'm so sorry to be such a disappointment. I assure you I intend to do much better,” he replied sardonically. The crowd laughed a bitter laugh, fully on the king’s side now, whatever doubts they may have had over recent months and years. “And just what else was intended to happen tonight?” the king asked in a deceptively casual tone of voice. “You don’t expect me to believe you had no plans for the fairies or the vampire survivors, do you?”

  She was suddenly reticent. The king made the knife fly into the air, held it a millimeter from the traitor’s face. “Have you ever felt a fairy-forged blade, Lil? Highly unpleasant, I can assure you from personal experience.” The scar on Ilyn’s face twitched, but he received nothing from the traitor. The blade began to spin like a drill as Ilyn asked the crowd, “Should I start with the eyes?” They cheered, eager for blood. November wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears. Thankfully, Lilith’s want of courage spared November the sight of torture.

  “The cars,” she whispered. “Bombs in the cars.”

  “To be triggered how?”

  “Cell phone. In my purse.” At that, the vampire slumped, now defeated, never again to be feared.

  At Ilyn’s nod, a small army of security personnel went to begin checking the line of limousines snaking along the drive while another one of them began examining Lilith’s bag. “Put her in the dungeon,” he told the men who remained. Before lowering her to the ground, the king wrapped her in so much silver chain she looked like a shining mummy. She screamed ceaselessly as they carried her off. The smell of burning flesh turned November’s stomach.

  The crowd seemed a bit disappointed. “You’ll have her blood and ash soon enough,” the king assured them. “Let’s see if she can be of some further use against the rebel lord of Arizona first.” He locked eyes with every lord in attendance before continuing. “Despite our best efforts, it seems we will have war. We’d best be as prepared for it as possible. I see some of you have filmed this sad spectacle with your telephones. Perhaps you’d be so kind as to discreetly share your footage with those not in attendance this evening who may be unconvinced of Luka’s perfidy. And please do stay here until Lord William’s men determine it is safe for you to leave. If you have the skills, please assist Rose and Birch in managing the care of the injured. Otherwise, please stay out of the way.”

  He turned away from the crowd and walked over to November. “You saved us all, little one,” he said, kneeling beside her. He smiled at her for the second time, and it again transformed him. The beast was gone, the anger and the lust for blood. For an instant, he looked young and capable of happiness. The moment passed, and the king continued looking her over, trying to reassure himself.

  “I’m fine. A little dizzy is all. And there’s this little scratch on my arm, but there’s hardly any blood,” she said, displaying the slight wound. “It does kind of hurt,” she admitted, wincing.

  “No,” Ilyn whispered, stricken. Pine swore. Tears welled in Zinnia’s eyes.

  “What?” she asked, suddenly frightened. “Tell me. You’re scaring me,” she pleaded.

  Ilyn scooped her up in his arms and started running to the house. “Zinnia,” he called over his shoulder, “Find Savita and send for a fairy doctor. Tell William and Hazel to deal with the rest of this fiasco.”

  Her head spun and her arm burned as Ilyn carried her to her bed. “Was the knife poisoned or something? What is going on?” she asked frantically. What scared her most was the wild, desperate look in the king’s eyes.

  He knelt beside her and pulled out the knife. It was shining and razor sharp, with a wooden inlay down the center of the blade, rendering it both a stake and a dagger. The panic left him, replaced by the calm born of surviving many crises in his long life. He knew she needed him to be calm.

  “It’s not so much poisoned as . . . evil. It has to do with how it’s made, the magic they use, how they make the alloy with silver, how they temper the blade . . .” He hesitated, not wanting to go into the gory details of its manufacture or its effect. “A fairy forged knife creates a wound that will only heal if a powerful fairy chooses to heal it. Otherwise, it will inevitably kill its human victim. The wooden inlay is for striking vampires in the heart, of course.”

  “So we have someone heal it in the morning,” she replied, uncomprehending.

  He looked so very sad before he hid his feelings behind his customary stoicism. “You might not last that long. And even if you do,” he continued after a pause, “you might wish you hadn’t. The pain . . . it will get much, much worse. I myself lasted perhaps twenty minutes before I began begging to die. Fortunately, Marisha soon found me and transformed me into a vampire. The fairy had attacked me in order to hurt her, you see, and the fairy lost both his life and his weapon in return . . . Of course my wounds were more numerous as well as much deeper . . . but I was also much larger and stronger than you are.” By this point, the room was filling up. William, Savita, Zinnia, Esther, and Pine had joined them.

  “You should turn her. Now,” William said without preamble. “Screw the law I wrote. Pay a fine. There’s no way she’ll make it to morning.” The evening’s events had put him in a ruthless mood, apparently.

  “She’s too young,” Savita protested weakly.

  “She’s older than you were,” came William’s retort.

  “And I was too young! And we all paid for that, as I recall. How many innocents died as a result? Hence, the law.”

  “But we can’t just let her die!” cried Zinnia, trying with limited success to hold herself together.

  “We aren’t going to let her die,” Esther said firmly.

  The pain was becoming difficult to ignore, as was the distress of her friends. November tried to think rationally. The thought of becoming a vampire that night made something within her cry, No! “This isn’t how I die,” November said with quiet firmness, cutting though the argument. “It isn’t supposed to happen this way. And I’m just not ready. So you’re all just going to have to do your best to keep me alive until dawn. That’s what? Five or six hours?”

  “Most of us aren’t ready when the moment comes to die,” Ilyn said. “And what does it matter how it’s supposed to happen? What’s wrong with sparing you suffering from this wound if you’re just going to end up one of us anyway?”

  “It’s important somehow, my staying human a little longer. I don’t know why, I just know that it is,” she stated with a sudden conviction. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was. Her other sense was fairly vibrating with the certainty. “I am sure. I wish I weren’t, but I am. And I’m the psychic, so we’re just going to have to go with that.”

  She looked each of them in the face in turn, feigning a bravery she did not feel, but knowing there was no escape. “If I am literally about to die, then go ahead and make me a vampire, but you must do your best to keep me alive until the sun comes up.” Pain shot through her arm and into her chest. She pressed her lips together. “Regardless of what I might say later.”

  She looked up at Ilyn, wondering if he was about to overrule her, wondering if he was preparing to drain her blood and her hu
man life away. She wasn’t much afraid of that, she realized. She would be sad about it, but she trusted him. She was just afraid that to die now would be a mistake, perhaps a fatal one.

  “Alright,” he said, looking in her eyes and finding her resolute. “I think we have to trust your judgment.”

  “No!” cried William. “It’s too risky. We can’t afford to lose her! You must do it, or I will.” Ilyn fairly growled in reply.

  “It’s my life, not yours. I’m more than your chess piece, my lord,” November spat with uncharacteristic vehemence. The pain was starting to get to her. “Now I don’t know how long I’ll be coherent, and I’d like to get out of this dress. The men will please leave. I’d like the king and Pine to please return in 15 minutes, and the doctor, if he’s here by then.” She did not think William’s presence would be very helpful. He looked like he was about to start smashing furniture. The men reluctantly obeyed and continued arguing audibly in the hallway.

  Zinnia and Savita helped her out of her dress and into a nightgown. Esther supervised from her chair, telling them from experience how to move November without causing her additional pain. “The satin one with the buttons, please,” November requested. “I don’t think I can lift my arm.” The wound had turned angry, her whole upper arm red and throbbing now, too heavy to move.

  She struggled not to cry out as her friends dressed her, helped her to the bathroom, and got her back in bed. She leaned back against the pillows trying to catch her breath so she could tell Zinnia and Savita, “I’m not sure how long you two should stay. It’s not that I don’t want you to, it’s just your gifts might make it hard for you when things get really bad.”

  Zinnia began to cry again. “But you’re my best friend. I should be here.”

  “I know, but you’re an empath, and she’s a telepath, and I don’t know if I can handle this if I’m worrying how it’s affecting you, too.” Zinnia gripped her hand. “I won’t hold it against either of you, really.”