by Tanith Frost
I need to fix that. To change my mindset about what we are and embrace it for all its dark and glorious strength.
Difficult though I know it will be, I need to be accepted by vampires. I need to make up for the errors I’ve made in the past and prove myself worthy of a place in my clan. I need to truly understand what I am and figure out how to fulfill the potential Daniel once said he saw in me.
I suppose it’s selfish, but that is what I’m stewing about.
I don’t want to be an outcast anymore.
My stomach is in knots by the time we hit the far end of Terra Nova, a park that’s probably nice for campers and hikers but makes for a particularly dull stretch of driving, especially in the dark. It may be my element, but at these speeds there’s not much to see or enjoy.
“Did you…” Daniel begins, and trails off. “How did they treat you?”
It takes me a moment to hit the brakes on my racing thoughts and jump to another track, one that his mind has obviously been following these past few hours. “The werewolves?”
He nods. “I know everything was fine with the humans. They had to report back, and I have contacts in the stock management sector.”
“You checked up on me?”
He pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Quietly, yes.”
That’s something, anyway. He wouldn’t risk his reputation or make the elders suspicious of his loyalties by calling me from the road, but he wanted to know I was okay.
“They were fine,” I say, unsure of how much I should share. It would be easy to slip back into my habit of trusting Daniel, though he himself has warned me time and again to be careful about that. Of course, he’s probably already figured out more than I want anyone to know.
“Most of them hated me,” I say, and he nods. “Not all of them. It wasn’t all bad.”
“I’m glad,” he says after a few moments. “There are vampires who would have thrived in isolation, but you’re not one of them.” He rolls his shoulders back, loosening muscles that must be tight after this long in the car. “I hated to think of you being alone even more than I hated the idea of you befriending them.” He shoots me a glance, one thick eyebrow raised. “Though I suspected based on your decision to help them that you’d already gotten in deeper than was advisable.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t answer.
I also don’t offer an apology. I fucked up by standing against my clan and my kind. I know that. I’ve accepted it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to roll over, show my belly, and proclaim that I was wrong.
After a moment of carefully watching Daniel’s body language, I decide he wasn’t implying anything with his choice of words.
“I’m glad you’re not upset about it,” I tell him. And I am. Our relationship has had its ups and downs, and our disagreements over the werewolves would likely have torn us apart had he not been called back to town. Until he showed up at Irene’s cabin, I thought maybe they had, anyway. I’m glad they haven’t. I want Daniel on my side.
I mean, I want him in plenty of other places, too. I’ve missed that gorgeous, stony face and his occasional awkward attempts at letting me see what lies under the facade. I want more. And though I’m still miles away from telling him the whole truth about my relationships with the werewolves, the fact that he’s here warms me like nothing has in all the time we’ve been apart.
I turn to him, and he gives me a quick smile.
This is going to be fine.
We take a dark, isolated exit North off the highway. The landscape doesn’t offer much at first, but is soon broken up by distantly spaced houses, then what’s almost a village. Wind-swept hills and scattered ponds nestled in stretches of flat rock indicate that we’re nearing the ocean. We pass a small town on our left before Daniel makes a right-hand turn onto what barely passes for a road. The pavement does become smoother, though, once we’re well away from the main road—once the potholes have done their job of warning humans not to pass this way, I suppose.
We drive for a while before Daniel slows and leans slightly ahead, watching the trees to our right, then brakes hard and turns slowly into what at first appears to be a stretch of the same trees we’ve been passing for the past twenty minutes. The entrance is overgrown, but the alder branches that reach toward each other like a natural gate are broken in places. No one is tending this roadway, but it’s been used recently.
I keep my eyes open but force myself to relax, observing the world even as I search for stillness within. It would be far easier to calm myself if I closed my eyes and fell into my old habit of taking deep breaths, but closing myself off isn’t a luxury I can afford. The sanctuary became a safe place for me over the past year, but that’s over now.
This is a larger, more dangerous world than I’ve grown accustomed to, and I’ll need my eyes open.
We clear the trees, and the road becomes a barely visible set of dirt ruts cutting through the long grass of a rock-dotted meadow.
Another road that will never show up on a human map. My world is full of them.
I lean forward and press my hands against the dashboard, eager to see what’s ahead, and catch Daniel’s smile in his reflection on the windshield—one of those rare, unguarded ones that reaches all the way to his eyes. I turn back to him. “What?”
He’s watching me. “Nothing.”
Vampires don’t blush much. Our cold, still blood hardly allows it. Still, I feel myself flush a little as I understand that the smile was for me. My enthusiasm might not fit the image of the calm, collected vampire ideal, but in this moment, it’s okay.
We top the crest of a low hill, and a roof comes into view. My jaw drops as the rest of the house appears against a backdrop of long grasses and an expanse of moonlit ocean.
“Holy shit, Daniel.”
It’s absolutely the opposite of what I expected. The houses we’ve been passing on our drive have been pretty typical for this area—vinyl siding, simple shapes, nice enough family homes from an indistinct modern era.
This… this is a haunted dollhouse.
The walls, covered in black, wind-battered wood siding, rise two storeys, with a smaller third storey rising above the section to our left that houses the front door. Far from the flat, boxy shapes of most local homes, this looks like something out of a Victorian horror story, with an uneven footprint that lends no hint of the layout within. The steeply pitched roof is topped with what looks like iron fencing, and several chimneys reach toward the stars. Low, gnarled apple trees dot the landscape to our right. There are no fences, and no neighbours.
There don’t appear to be any lights on inside, but one flickers next to the door.
Daniel cuts the headlights as soon as the house is in view and pulls up a short distance from the big front porch, on a bare patch of ground where a white passenger van and two smaller cars are already parked.
My stomach clenches as Daniel shuts the engine off.
He pushes the button, and the trunk door rises with a soft beep. “You’ll want to leave the gun for now,” he tells me. “House rules. Some of the residents aren’t entirely stable.”
I don’t move.
He gives my thigh a quick squeeze. “Best be on our way.”
Our way. I’ll take it while I can.
He takes his own suitcase and lets me handle my things. I wonder whether this is like him not wanting to offer me backup when I faced Silas for the first time, not wanting to make me seem weak.
I certainly hope we won’t meet anyone that intimidating here.
The front door swings inward as we reach the porch steps, and we stop as a pale, dark-haired vampire dressed in a tailored black suit steps out.
Daniel’s expression tightens. “Viktor. How unexpected.”
The vampire gazes down his long nose at him. “And a pleasure, no doubt.”
My blood freezes. This is no doddering, out-of-touch creature like I expected to find here. I’ve never met him, but I don’t need any familiarity to help me unders
tand what he is. His power flows around him like an invisible cape, swirling and dark.
He’s an elder, the top of the pecking order as far as someone like me is concerned, though Miranda as our high elder still outranks him. Unlike Daniel, he has no need to hide his strength from those who might be intimidated by its potential, and every reason to display it to those he demands respect from.
We don’t typically bow to elders, but I lower my eyes briefly so he won’t see the fear his presence has brought to the surface. I hope he’ll interpret it as a sign of respect.
Viktor. I don’t know the name, but then, I’ve never had reason to. Elders don’t seem to care for fame or recognition. Only power.
He folds his hands over his stomach and descends the steps, looking up at the stars as he comes. He moves slowly, an eternal creature in no rush to be anywhere, unperturbed by the bare hint of purple light that’s teasing at the ocean horizon behind this gorgeous monstrosity of a house.
He looks me over as he reaches us. I stand at ease and don’t speak. While Daniel ranks high enough to have offered the first greeting, I do not.
“Have no fear, Daniel,” Viktor says after a drawn-out silence. “I’m not staying.”
“Pity.”
Daniel doesn’t bother injecting any sincerity in his voice, and Viktor smiles. “Certainly. No, I only came to take a look at this one.” He nods to me, and his sharp black eyes fix on my face.
I wish he’d look away. My jagged nerves aren’t just from meeting an elder unexpectedly. It’s something about his power, and the way he’s looking around like he owns everything, from the house to the vaulted ceiling of stars above us…
…To me.
He gives me a practiced smile that leaves me feeling like I want a shower. I’m not getting any sense of him beyond the depth of his power, but I know I don’t like him.
“I noticed Miranda taking an interest in this one’s next assignment and decided to come out and welcome her myself.”
He’s looking right at me, but he’s talking like I’m not here. I grit my teeth. I’m out of my element, taken by surprise. I know nothing about him, and I have no idea what he might know about me. Do the elders talk amongst themselves? Am I important enough to come up as a topic of conversation if they do?
“I’m sure Aviva appreciates the gesture,” Daniel tells him. “Will you be spending the day here?”
Viktor looks back at the house with something that looks surprisingly like apprehension. “I’ll be taking shelter elsewhere. Tell me, Daniel, why didn’t you present this one to all of us after she completed her training?”
“There was no time,” Daniel says. “She and my other charge were released early to assist in our investigation of the rogues in St. John’s, and she’s been assigned elsewhere since then.” His voice is calm. Not flat, but cool, betraying no emotion or uncertainty.
“Ah, yes,” Viktor says, though his tone makes it clear that he knew very well why we haven’t met. “The matter of Katya. Most unfortunate on so many levels.” He gives me that strange smile again. “At least one of your students survived.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t let my pain show on my face. I’ve trained myself not to think about Trixie, which only makes it hurt more when she surfaces. I really should learn not to care so much.
I push aside any thought of her, along with everything else. I have no idea how to hide my thoughts from an elder, if he’s able to see them as Miranda can, but I can try to make them disappear by focusing on this moment.
There’s only Viktor, who I struggle to withhold any judgement on, the night air on my skin, and the wind rustling through the long grass, carrying the ocean’s salty essence toward the road and trees behind me.
Viktor frowns, but his expression quickly returns to a cold neutral.
The door opens again, and a bald, burly vampire exits. He doesn’t look at us as he passes and opens the back passenger side door of a charcoal sedan. Its windows are all tinted far past what’s legal or advisable for humans.
Viktor glances back at the house again. “Tell me, Aviva, do you believe in luck?”
The shock of him speaking directly to me passes quickly. “I don’t, sir. Not aside from what we make for ourselves.”
“That’s almost a shame,” he says. “You’ll probably need it. Good day, Daniel.”
Daniel nods, and Viktor heads for the car. Neither Daniel nor I move until the taillights have disappeared among the trees.
I take a step toward the house and lean against the porch railing for a moment as I try to recover my balance. Flakes of paint crumble onto my shoulder, leaving a fresh patch of bare wood exposed when I’m able to straighten again.
Viktor is gone. I wish he’d taken his presence with him. The memory of his power and his slick, insincere smile are clinging to me, and it’s all I can do not to run for the freezing ocean waves so I can let them cleanse me.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“No one whose attention you want.” Daniel is still watching the dark woods, as though Viktor might change his mind and come back. “Be glad Miranda is our high elder and so powerful. As I’ve heard it, her victory was a close one. I’m not sure he’s ever gotten over it.”
I try to imagine living under that creature’s rule. I don’t know him. Don’t have any idea how he sees the world or what his vision for Maelstrom might have been. I only know that he makes my skin crawl, that he looks at lesser vampires like I might look at a clump of hair I pulled out of a shower drain, and that my heart feels colder now than it did before I met him.
There’s a lot I don’t like about vampire society, but I can’t help wondering now whether our current reality is the lesser by far of two evils.
“Morning’s coming,” Daniel says softly. When I turn to him, his cold mask is gone. “Shall we?”
I smile like everything is fine. “Of course.”
After all, nothing within the house can be as bad as what we just faced.
Daniel lets me mount the rickety steps first, and I knock at the door.
No answer.
I raise my fist to knock again, and freeze as an inhuman scream shatters the night air.
Chapter Five
We exchange a quick look, but the door swings open before we can try to open it ourselves. A pretty young woman, her bronze skin flushed as only the living can manage, gives us a stressed-out smile as she pulls her wavy black hair back into a low bun.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” she says, and winces as another scream rings out. “Don’t mind Edwin. He’s not a fan of the sunrise. Or visitors.”
“Who is?” Daniel mutters as we step inside the house. We’re facing a steep staircase. I look up and find that the space above is open to the third floor, with dark wood bannisters standing sentry around the wide stairwell. The wallpaper down here is yellowed and frayed, but it looks like it once displayed what might have been a cheerful pattern of flowers and stripes in even columns, contrasting with the dark, worn-out carpet running up the stairs.
“I’m Naya,” the woman tells us, and holds out a hand to shake both of ours in turn. “Aviva and Daniel, right? Viktor was beginning to think you might not make it tonight.”
I inhale, taking in her scent as discreetly as I can. She may not be one of us, but she has the potential to be one day. I’ve become adept at picking up the blood factor after feeding on several humans who had it.
Naya’s neck bears no scars. Interesting. I’ve never met a human who worked with us who didn’t let us feed.
A third scream fades to a cold chuckle that freckles my skin with goosebumps. Otherwise, the house is quiet.
“You’re their caretaker?” I ask, hoping it won’t turn out that I’m expected to replace her. Taking over for someone at the sanctuary was bad, but at least the job was supposed to be all paperwork and quiet boredom. This sounds far worse.
“I am,” she says. “I wanted to help, to learn about the culture and what’s in store for me some day, but I
wasn’t keen on feeding anyone.” She wrinkles her nose. “So here I am. It’s not a bad job, really.”
“Just you?” Daniel asks, and she shakes her head.
“No, thank goodness. I do need to sleep sometimes. Sean will be waking up soon.” She sounds like she’s from the mainland, without enough of an accent otherwise for me to pinpoint it further.
“How many are there?” I ask. “It seems quiet.”
“Five. It’s not nearly as dull as you might expect based on that.” Floorboards creak above us, and Naya takes a step back. “Watch yourselves.”
Before I can look up, a body crashes to the floor at our feet, landing facedown and spread-eagled. Male, black hair, dressed in black pants, dark red suspenders, and a white shirt that’s seen far better days.
Daniel and I have already leapt back, but Naya remains unperturbed as the body lies still for a moment, then moves, pushing himself to his hands and knees. The stranger climbs slowly to his feet and brushes himself off before pulling a notebook from his breast pocket, marking something with a pencil that’s worn nearly down to a nub, and wanders down the hallway to our right, muttering to himself. He reaches up with both hands and appears to crack his nose back into place before he disappears into another room.
“That’s Edwin,” Naya tells us.
Daniel and I look at each other, speechless. Edwin is clearly a vampire, and will heal quickly. That doesn’t mean his fall didn’t hurt like hell, especially landing as he did.
Daniel flexes his jaw, erasing the surprise from his face. “Well, then. That’s one introduction down.”
Naya smirks. “Good attitude. You’ll be fine here. Come on upstairs, we’ll see who else we find.”
She leads us to the top of the first flight of stairs. “All of the bedrooms are on this level,” she says. “There’s not much on the top floor except a storage room and the door to the balcony. Great ocean view.”
“And Edwin’s launch pad?” I add, and Naya grins.
“So it would seem. That was a new one for him. Aviva, you’ll be staying in this room, if it suits you.”