Frostbitten: The Complete Series

by Bera, Ilia

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. You shouldn’t be out here, you know.”

  “I could say the same thing to you,” Hanna smiled as she walked up next to Connor.

  “Seriously. This thing is getting serious.”

  “I can handle myself,” Hanna said with a smile.

  Connor didn’t return the smile.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Hanna asked.

  “Yeah,” Connor said, finally forcing a smile.

  The two turned around the block. “I’m totally useless with this online school thing. I can’t figure out their email system,” Hanna said, changing the subject.

  “Yeah?” Connor said, without having fully heard Hanna’s words. His mind was too preoccupied, forming the dreaded sentence.

  “Yeah. I might need your help sending out this assignment. It keeps giving me this outgoing mail server error thing.”

  “Yeah?” Connor said again, repeating himself like a broken record.

  Hanna looked back up at Connor. “Yeah…” she said. She stared down at Connor’s hands, which were deep in his pockets. His fingers were nervously fidgeting. “How’s your mom?”

  “Um, she’s okay.”

  “That’s good. Doing better?” Hanna asked.

  “Yeah. They want to keep watching her for a few more days.”

  “That’s good. I hope she’s better soon.”

  “As bad as it sounds, with everything happening around here lately, the hospital is probably the best place for her right now.”

  “I agree,” Hanna said. She looked up at Connor, who hadn’t made a moment of eye contact. “Do you want to hang out later tonight?” Hanna asked. “Maybe we can watch a movie at your place, or something.”

  “Um—Tonight isn’t a good night for me. I still need to finish that assignment.”

  “I can help you,” Hanna suggested. She wasn’t getting Connor’s hint—or she was just in denial of them.

  “Um—I’m not sure when I’ll even get to it. I have some other stuff I have to figure out first—you know, with the hospital. Maybe another time would be best.”

  Hanna went silent. Connor looked over at the quiet girl.

  “What about tomorrow?” Connor asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe—Maybe we can go watch the big sun set for the last—last one of the year.” Connor looked over at Hanna and watched her reaction. Connor was testing the theory that he desperately did not want to believe.

  Hanna’s expression dropped. “I actually have an appointment tomorrow that I can’t miss.”

  Connor watched as Hanna’s eyes darted away and her chin sunk to her chest. “What appointment?” Connor said.

  Hanna stared back at Connor. Connor knew. How was it possible? How did he find out?

  “It—It’s a doctor’s appointment.”

  “There’s no doctors open now. Just the hospital.”

  Connor and Hanna stopped walking.

  After a moment of silence, Hanna looked down at her feet. “I didn’t kill anyone,” Hanna said.

  “So it’s true?” Connor asked.

  “Yeah,” Hanna said.

  “You—You’re a—”

  “A vampire. I’m a vampire.”

  Connor took a step backwards and scanned the surrounding streets, making note of his different escape options. The streets were silent—there was no other soul in sight, no police to intervene.

  “I’m sorry…” Hanna said.

  Connor took another step away from Hanna.

  “It’s not me they’re looking for. You have to believe me, Connor.” Tears were beginning to pool in her eyes. “I never killed anyone. I would never kill anyone.”

  “I need to go,” Connor said.

  “Connor please. You have to believe me.” Hanna said as she started to walk up to Connor.

  “Wait—Stay back,” Connor whipped his hand out from his pocket and motioned Hanna to keep her distance.

  “Connor…”

  Connor was still, tense, silent. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to cry. More than all, he wanted to run.

  “You believe me… Right?” Hanna said.

  “I have to go, Hanna.”

  Connor carefully turned and began to stumble towards the hospital, looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being pursued.

  “Connor!” Hanna cried out. She began chase.

  “Please—just leave me alone!” Connor said.

  Hanna caught up with Connor and grabbed onto his arm. Connor swiftly snapped his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t kill Wade, or Andrew. Please tell me that you believe me.”

  “Why do you care what I believe?” Connor asked.

  “Because… Because I love you.”

  Connor couldn’t bare to maintain eye-contact.

  “If you loved me, you would have told me. You wouldn’t have kept it a secret.”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “It’s too late now, Hanna,” Connor said, turning away again.

  “I’m sorry.” Tears began to stream down Hanna’s face.

  “I need to go,” Connor said.

  “Please just let me speak,” Hanna said. “Give me a chance.”

  “Hanna…”

  “What?” Hanna said. “Tell me. What?”

  “This is over,” he said. “I—I can’t do this.”

  Hanna was speechless. Connor’s three little words were paralyzing.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll see you around,” Connor said as he turned around again and hurried away, leaving Hanna alone, crying in the street. Once again, she was left with nothing. Once again, the streets were silent.

  As Connor disappeared around the corner, Hanna became weak—as if she’d lost her will to carry on. She couldn’t handle life’s relentless, unjustified punishment anymore. It wasn’t fair. Her limit had been reached.

  A powerful gust of wind swirled the freshly fallen snow and the streetlights began to flicker. After a moment, the street was as dark as it was silent.

  “You don’t need him,” a familiar hoarse voice said.

  Hanna looked around the silent, abandoned streets. There was nothing to see—no one around. She was totally alone.

  “You will always have me,” the formless voice whispered into her ear.

  Another strong gust of wind blew a wall of snow down the solemn street. In the wall was that familiar face—the face of her father.

  “Go away!” Hanna said.

  “Hush, hush. Don’t be so sharp,” her father said.

  “I don’t want this anymore! Take it away from me!” Hanna cried.

  “Embrace it,” the voice said. “Once you embrace it, you will love it.”

  “I don’t want to love it.”

  “Then what do you want?” the voice of her father asked.

  After a moment of silence, she spoke: “I just want him,” she said.

  “Once you embrace your power, you can have anything—even him.”

  Hanna wiped the tears from her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Embrace who you are, and I’ll make him yours.”

  “How?”

  The streetlights began to flicker again for a moment before suddenly turning back on. A gust of wind blew the wall of snow away, along with the voice of her lost father.

  “Excuse me!” another voice called out.

  CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

  A NEW FRIEND

  A police officer, dressed in a thick police-issued parka, stood at the street corner, looking towards Hanna. “What are you doing out here?” he said.

  Hanna sprung to her feet. “I—I was just waiting for someone,” she said.

  “Out here? Why on earth are you waiting for someone out here?” the officer asked as he began to walk towards the girl.

  Hanna was silent for a moment.

  “Wait—You look familiar. What’s your name?” the officer asked.

>   “What?” Hanna asked.

  “Your name.”

  “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

  As the officer stepped within a few dozen feet, he recognized her: Constable Hendricks had put her photo up at the precinct that very morning. “I’m going to need you to come with me,” the officer said as he pulled out a walkie-talkie.

  Hanna stood frozen, deciding her next move.

  “Constable Hendricks? This is Officer Jensen. I think I’ve got the Wilkinson girl here, at the corner of Richards and Davis. Over.”

  “You sure it’s her?” the walkie crackled back.

  “Almost sure,” the officer replied. “I’m approaching now to get an I.D.”

  “I need to go,” Hanna said, turning around and beginning to run away.

  “Stop!” the officer called out as he began to run towards Hanna.

  Hanna looked back at the officer. Panicked, Hanna began to run faster.

  “Stop right there!” the officer yelled.

  Hanna ran as fast as she could. She was lighter and more nimble than the officer, making the deep snow an easier feat. With every adrenaline charged step, she put a little bit more distance between her and the policeman.

  Her thirst began. She could feel her teeth beginning to push out from her gums. She could see the red pooling into her eyes.

  “Stop!” the officer called out again. “Or I’ll shoot!” The young officer stumbled as he reached for his gun.

  Hanna quickly turned the corner, running down an alley.

  As she passed a snow-covered dumpster, something grabbed her arm and pulled her down, onto her face. She flipped herself and, with her fangs out, prepared to strike—But then she noticed who had grabbed her.

  It was Brittany.

  “Give me your coat,” Brittany said as she took her fitted white jacket off.

  Hanna’s blood-red eyes were wide, unblinked, glazed with adrenaline.

  “Take it off!” Brittany said.

  Hanna, flustered in shock, obliged. She took off her coat and Brittany quickly snatched it and put it on. “Don’t move,” she said as she stepped out from behind the dumpster.

  “Stop right there!” the officer yelled with his gun out as he turned into the alley.

  “Jensen! Do you need backup?” the officer’s walkie crackled.

  “I—I’m sorry,” Brittany said. “I didn’t mean to run.”

  The officer stopped and stared at Brittany.

  “Jensen?” dispatch called again, through the walkie.

  “What’s your name?” the officer asked.

  “Brittany. Brittany Brucheveskyj.”

  Cautiously, the officer stepped towards Brittany. Hanna squished her body tightly against the dumpster, holding her breath.

  “I need an I.D. on a Brittany Bru—Bruch…” the officer said into his walkie.

  “Brucheveskyj.”

  “How do you spell that?” dispatch asked.

  “How do you spell that?” the officer asked, holing his radio forward, with his finger on the transmit button.

  “B-R-U-C-H-E-V-E-S-K-Y-J”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Brittany Brucheveskyj—Five-four, nineteen years old, no criminal history,” dispatch replied.

  “Why’d you run?” the nervous officer asked, with his gun still drawn.

  “I don’t know. I was scared. They say the Vampire Killer dresses like a cop,” Brittany said, biting down on her tongue—something she always did when she lied.

  “You did?” the officer asked. “Where did you hear that?”

  “It’s what everyone has been saying.”

  After a moment, the officer placed his gun back into its holster. He pulled out his walkie. “Hendricks, this is Jensen. Switch to three, please.” The officer switched over to a more private channel.

  “Go ahead, Jensen,” Hendricks replied.

  “I made a mistake. It’s not the Wilkinson girl.”

  “Roger that, Jensen.”

  “But the girl here is telling me she heard the Vampire Killer dresses like a cop. Have you heard anything like this?”

  “I have not, Jensen. Ask her who told her that.”

  “I did. She said everyone’s sayin’ it.”

  There was a silence. “God damnit,” Hendricks said. “That’s just what we need.”

  “What should I do with the girl?” Jensen asked.

  “Send her home. Come see me at the precinct.”

  “Roger that,” Jensen said. He looked back up at Brittany. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Can I give you a ride home?”

  Brittany shook her head ‘no’.

  “No—of course not. Uh—As a matter of fact, don’t accept a ride from any officer. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

  “It’s okay,” Brittany said.

  Officer Jensen turned around and began to make his way back to his cruiser. Brittany looked down at Hanna, whose fangs had receded back into her gums.

  “Come on,” Brittany said, reaching her hand out to help Hanna up.

  Brittany held the front door of her house open. Hesitantly, Hanna entered.

  “Why did you help me back there?” Hanna asked.

  Brittany closed the door, locking it behind her. Hanna looked around.

  “I heard you and Connor talking...”

  A lump grew in Hanna’s throat.

  “It’s okay—I’m a vampire too,” Brittany said. “But don’t tell anyone.”

  “What? You—You are?”

  “Yeah. But seriously—Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Come here,” Brittany said, motioning for Hanna to follow her into her bedroom. “My room is this way.” Brittany led Hanna through the large, empty labyrinth of a home.

  Brittany opened her bedroom door and stepped aside. Hanna stepped into the relic-filled room. The walls were covered in occult symbols—pentagrams and old Latin phrases. Hanna trudged through a pile of old pagan and religion books, up to a shelf covered in jars of rat’s blood. “Ew—What is this?” Hanna asked.

  “It’s rat’s blood. I know it’s gross—I don’t drink it. Something about the way it smells makes the cravings go away. You get used to it.”

  “It smells awful,” Hanna said.

  “I know,” Brittany said with a laugh. “But it helps…”

  “What’s this?” Hanna asked, picking up a small box.

  “It’s my Sunstone. It’s gotten me through a lot of hard times. Have you ever used one?” Brittany asked.

  “It’s empty,” Hanna said, opening the box and looking inside.

  “What?” Brittany asked.

  “There’s nothing in here.”

  “Where is it? Where did it go?” Brittany said, suddenly overwhelmed with panic.

  “I don’t know,” Hanna said, surprised by Brittany’s sudden frantic behaviour. “I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”

  Brittany suddenly froze. “Oh no,” she muttered, realizing the last time she had seen it was before Andrew died behind her house.

  “What is it?” Hanna asked.

  “N—Nothing,” Brittany said. “I just don’t want to lose it. It means a lot to me.” Brittany sat down on her bed.

  “I’ll help you find it.”

  “That’s okay. I think I know where I left it,” Brittany said, biting down on her tongue.

  “Okay,” Hanna said as she continued to explore the room.

  “I’m sorry about the other day,” Brittany said.

  “What?”

  “When I hit you—Over Connor. I was—I don’t know, I wasn’t being myself.”

  “It’s okay,” Hanna said.

  “It’s not okay. I was a bitch for no reason.”

  “It’s water under the bridge,” Hanna said. “You more than made it up to me tonight.”

  Brittany laughed. “So let’s call it even?”

  “Even,” Hanna said, as she looked down at her feet and smiled.

  Brittany fell onto the bed a
nd stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over,” she said with a long exhale.

  “Yeah…” Hanna said. She looked over at Brittany.

  “This will all die down before we know it, and it will be business as usual,” Brittany laughed.

  “Right.” Hanna couldn’t help but entertain the notion that Brittany was the killer. She was, after all, the only other vampire—not to mention her spat with Wade the night he died. “Did—Did you kill Wade?” Hanna asked.

  Brittany sat up, eyes wide. “What? No. Of course not!” she snapped.

  “Sorry—I didn’t—I mean, I wasn’t trying to accuse you.”

  “I’m not a killer,” Brittany barked.

  “I didn’t think that. It’s just that—it’s just that you’re the only other vampire in the town.”

  “Did you do it?” Brittany asked.

  “No. I was with Connor.”

  Brittany looked down at her feet and took a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I’m not the killer, Hanna.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not,” Brittany said again.

  “I believe you.”

  A silence fell upon the room. Brittany did kill Wade—and Thomas—but she wasn’t responsible for the other dozen murders in Snowbrooke.

  “Do you know who did?” Hanna asked.

  “No clue,” Brittany said. “I guess there’s another one of us out there.”

  “Yeah…” Hanna said as her brain mulled over the possibilities.

  “Whoever it is, we need to stick together—Okay?” Brittany said.

  “Deal,” Hanna smiled.

  Buzz!

  Brittany’s phone vibrated on the bedside table. Kane was text-messaging her. Hanna couldn’t help but notice the name on the small screen. Brittany picked up her phone and started to reply to the message.

  “Is that Kane?” Hanna asked.

  “Yeah. Why?” Brittany asked, looking up at Hanna.

  Hanna stared into Brittany’s eyes, trying her best to tell Brittany what she knew.

  “I just—I just don’t know about him…” Hanna said.

  “You know?”

  Hanna was silent.

  “How long have you known?” Brittany asked.

  “I had a suspicion on the first day of class,” Hanna said.