by SARA FREITES
My eyes adjusted to the dark where creatures came into view all around. I gawked in horror at them—their skin pale gray in color, hairless, their clothes fitting loosely, partially torn from their gangly bodies, some even naked.
“What’s wrong with them?” I demanded.
“They’re thirsty, it seems.” Arlos’ smile grew, maybe in delight of my fear.
“You’re going to let them turn me?” I asked, my voice shook along with the rest of my body.
He huffed a laugh deep in his chest. “Holly! Travis!” he shouted.
The two who came in earlier waded through the crowd of creatures, kicking them aside as they went. They stepped into view alongside Arlos. I didn’t recognize either of them, but I knew they were havidens. They opened an exit in the wall adjacent to us. Arlos vanished through it.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded with tears surging in my eyes.
“Then say you’ll cooperate with me,” Arlos retorted and reappeared in the doorway.
The answer sat, waiting to be released. “I can’t,” I forced myself to say as tears rolled down my cheeks.
Turning down Arlos’ promise to take me from that place was like being left outside in the cold all winter with an impending blizzard in the distance when someone finally came along and offered me a warm place to stay. And I’d turned it down. I could only hope that becoming a vampire would make me strong…just enough to escape this place.
“Well, then. How unfortunate. You wanted to remain human?” Arlos’ tone became harsh and uncaring as he spoke. “I’ll show you what it means to be human. Welcome to the Rivière de Sang Clan, Autumn. We are pleased to finally have you.”
He vanished through the exit. The man and woman followed him, and I could hear them locking me in as they left. I watched the nightmarish creatures as they stretched through the light at me with their lanky arms, waiting for my mortality to be unfairly taken from me.
Chapter 15
A Story of Fighting Fate
My sanctuary, the light pouring in from the ceiling, shrank around me like an evaporating pool of water. Looking up, I realized the skylight high above began shutting from the outside. My panic morphed into absolute horror as the creatures hissed, all the while keeping themselves at bay behind the solid line of diminishing sunrays before me.
They limped and crawled closer. And I wished I could just close my eyes instead of studying their features, but my eyes had a mind of their own. Their faces were hollow and gaunt, every bone in their scrawny bodies visible through their thin, papery skin. They bared their fangs at me, some missing teeth and drooling on the concrete. I could tell by the height of their gleaming eyes that five or six of them stood erect in the back of the group, peering over the others. Exactly how many there were altogether, I would never know for sure.
Feverishly, I gathered my legs into me as the skylight continued sealing from above. A pale arm broke through the darkness. Its bony fingers latched onto my ankle. The skin on its forearm seared in the sun's rays like a struck match. The creature screeched and yanked me from the small circle of light. Blackness moved over me like an ebony tide. Icy shackles—no, hands—were everywhere on me, dragging me through the room as the skylight completely closed. I couldn’t see anything after that, I might as well have been blind.
A sharp pressure penetrated my jeans. I thrashed about with no prevail. More cold pain on my wrist. I gasped twice, back to back, as it took my breath away. My scream rang around me. I felt several more bites. I reeled. After another bite at my shoulder, I threw a frantic punch in a blind fury. My fist struck something cold and hard. I felt three more bites, one on my other shoulder and two on my sides. I yelped. That’s when I started feeling strange, weak.
The sound of the metal door being unlocked sent the creatures scattering. They darted away from new light pouring in and gathered against the shadowed wall. Some crawled to the ceiling like large albino spiders. Feebly, I sat up, my entire body throbbing.
A girl made her way inside with sunlight from a window far beyond lighting her up in the doorway. Her Victorian-looking pastel pink and lacy dress draped gracefully over her small frame and dragged the ground as she walked. She was beautiful, as it seemed most vampires were, maybe around my age, but the solemn expression on her heart-shaped face made me feel as if she’d been unhappy for a very long time. She floated across the floor like an elegant apparition.
My mind raced. Could this be Latresma? Had I changed already? After all, I’d been bitten. Maybe this was truly her. But I didn’t feel any different—though I wasn’t sure what being a vampire was supposed to feel like. But the closer the girl came, the more I realized she wasn't Latresma. She looked nothing like me…nothing like the frozen body of Latresma.
The vampire waited perfectly still before me now, her skin snow white with patches of green veins at her neck and the insides of her arms. Her cream-colored hair was swept back halfway and fell long and curly over her shoulders and down her back. The glistening hazel fierceness of her eyes pierced through me.
Again, my mind ran rampant. If this vampire wasn’t Latresma, then she was working for Arlos, but what would Arlos want with a vampire? Let alone, what was a vampire doing siding with Arlos? Despite my concerns, there was something about the girl that made me feel safe, content in her presence.
“You look so much like her. Come with me, Autumn,” she urged, a French accent apparent.
With shaking limbs, I stood, wondering if I’d pass out. My knees wobbled as I tried to keep up. I didn’t care what side this girl was on, I’d follow her anywhere as long as it was out of that room. I hurried along when one of the creatures made a noise, causing me to quicken my pace. She guided me out of there and into a hallway. The girl closed and locked the door to the dark room.
“I wish I could just let them all go,” she whispered. “But Arlos would never have that.”
I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to herself as her hands and eyes remained on the doorknob.
“You’ll have to excuse my dated attire. He prefers I still dress this way. Come,” she beckoned in an uneasy voice. “You and I have quite a bit to discuss.”
While we walked down the narrow hall, the warm air soothed me, but at the same time, it brought to life my new wounds. My skin burned in places all over my body. I stopped to look myself over and shuttered. Even though the bite marks weren’t bleeding, it was the sheer number of them that had me whirling around in shock.
“They will heal soon,” the girl assured me and smiled.
It might have been a forced smile, small and quivering, but then, it faded with her solemn expression returning.
“They’ll be gone in a day or so without a trace,” she promised. “Those poor vampires don’t have the ability to take your soul and turn you because of their sad, starved state. They may have been able to draw your energy, but they’re hardly strong enough to draw blood or your soul. Arlos knows this well. He’s trying to frighten you into cooperating with him. You see, he’s a professional at this.”
“So, I’m not going to turn?” I asked, my voice cracking in surprise.
“You will not,” she confirmed.
I took a breath, relieved. She beckoned me down a constricting staircase where the scenery changed drastically. It was as if I’d walked out of a dungeon and into a palace. The spacious hallway she led me through was elegantly lined with ornate trim as elaborate as the wallpaper. A crimson carpet spread across the floor, accentuating the deep red flower petals in the wallpaper.
I went with the girl who led me to a vast bedroom fit for a princess, but I couldn’t help but notice the beige bag tied to her waist first. The cloth appeared to be thick like canvas, and it hung down just past her right knee, holding the shape of a long, heavy-looking object. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it sooner.
She caught me staring, and I turned away innocently to examine the room, which I assumed belonged to her. The first thing that caught my attention was an ivory
and antique standing mirror. Its beveled edges and decorative base made it noticeable in the far corner. I found it odd that she kept something like that in her room. As a vampire, it would be useless to her. But maybe, the old mirror was something she’d chosen to take with her into her vampire life. For her, it may have held memories of her past as a human, or so I wondered.
Black and gold vases sat in the other three corners of the room, each tall and chic, presenting a bouquet of flourishing tulips. The charcoal wallpaper enfolded a muted ivory and gold leafy print across its span. The furniture and bedposts matched the mirror’s frame—white wood, cracked and warped. Curtains hung from two floor-to-ceiling windows, and they were drawn wide open. This allowed sunlight to freely seep in. As she guided me through the bedroom, the girl moved along the shadows. I saw my reflection in the standing mirror and stopped in place. The sight of my bitten arms made me cringe, maybe fifteen that I could see—not including the ones not so obvious through the puncture marks in my clothes.
The girl glided to the glass French doors that opened up to a balcony with a glorious city view. But something drew my eye to the mirror again. Unsure, I double-checked.
“You have a reflection,” I announced, astonished.
“I’m afraid someone will overhear us,” she whispered. “Please.” She gestured for me to go outside.
“But the sun—” I began.
“I am immune to sunlight. It’s an old habit of mine to maneuver around the sun’s rays that shine inside during the day…as you probably just watched me do.”
She reached with a hand the color of milk to pull the left shoulder of her lacy sleeve away. There, two sets of faded puncture wounds, aligned much like a crescent moon branded her skin, one row higher up on her neck than the other. She also lifted back her right sleeve. Several more marks just like the others extended up her forearm.
“The first one of these is the only thing Arlos has given me that I am thankful for,” she told me and ran her fingers along the gray scarring. “Once bitten by a hell-demon, a vampire becomes immune to the things they once fell victim to—holy water, the sun. I’ve become much like a human again. I cast a reflection, as you noticed, and have regained many of my human emotions, yet retained my vampire strengths. Arlos has made me more human and more powerful at the same time. Unfortunately with his bite, he claimed me, and I quite literally cannot step foot off the property without his presence.”
As she pushed the glass double doors open, a chilled gust of air blew in and tousled our hair. The breeze felt somehow healing against my sore, bitten skin. I inhaled the refreshing air as we walked outside. She closed the doors behind us.
“Stand with me,” she offered, her back against the balcony railing.
I hesitated. “Are you going to turn me?” I wondered aloud.
“Because of the bites Arlos gave me, I no longer possess that ability. Regardless, that’s not why I brought you here,” she answered.
“Oh, okay,” I realized.
I moved beside her and leaned on the white wrought iron railing. Together, we gazed out over the city and the sun setting just behind it. The wind blew against me again while my eyes curiously scored the buildings below. Big Ben sat tall in the distance. It would be the only landmark I recognized. The buildings in London appeared older, closer together with narrow streets. Several buildings on the horizon stood out with their castle-like, pointed rooftops and drab colors. But other buildings were more up to date, futuristic-looking with rounded corners, smooth and shiny, metallic-like walls and oddly shaped structures. Just sweeping my eyes from one side to the other, I could see the not-so-subtle differences in the city’s architectural structure.
“Arlos sent me to pull you from the vampire prison,” the vampire broke through the sound of the wind. “But I came for you sooner than he asked. I didn’t want to leave you there. I’m to convince you to cooperate with him. He wants me to tell you of his impossible power, that to defy him would mean the end of your life and the lives of those you care about, but…he shouldn’t trust me so. Not that Arlos isn’t extremely dangerous. He is someone to fear. But I have some very important things to tell you tonight, none of which have anything to do with aiding Arlos.
“First and foremost, I must say this—do not trust him. You may have felt that he wasn’t what everyone says he is, but take it from someone who knows him all too well. It might seem that he is reckless and desperate, sometimes even concerned for your safety, but this is only a facade. He knows exactly what he’s doing and what he needs to say and do to get what he wants.
“Arlos was never meant to be part of this world. He came from another dimension. He found his way through an unexplainable tear between hell and Earth, yet I don’t know for sure how long he’s been here. I only learned of his existence in the year 1715. You mustn’t say a word of what I’m about to tell you to him or anyone else who associates with him.
“As he may have told you, he wants two things—the Soleil Dagger to accompany its sister dagger, which we already have, and the power you’ll have once reborn as a vampire, the power to curse the daggers, which will grant them the ability to rip a hole from this world into the next. All he needs you to do is say that you’ll join him, and you will be his. As a human with part of a vampire soul inside you, the moment you agree to do anything with him, he can take complete control over you. Even being reborn won’t break the hold he’d have over you then. Same as any other vampire, as he has done with the havidens that work for him.
“It works this way—he understands his demonic powers well, and he knows how dark magic works…to a degree. Thus, he knows that when you’re under his control, Latresma can no longer come to claim her soul from you. Her body will be dispelled from you. Your soul and Latresma’s will no longer belong to you. They will belong to Arlos. And that’s part of the reason Arlos wants you to see things his way. He simply needs you to say ‘yes’ and Latresma will cease to exist. Only then, can he manipulate you and your powers as he pleases. He’s holding off on having you turned because he doesn’t want you reborn as a vampire and have to deal with Latresma. Arlos may have told you differently, how you will be powerful after being reborn. And you will be. Nevertheless, don’t misunderstand. He’ll continue pressuring you to join him, but eventually, if you refuse to see things his way, he will lose his patience. He will kill you as a last resort. I apologize.” She shook her head. “I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Rosetta Cahle, and I’m being held here against my will just as you are.”
Baffled, I took a step back along the railing, unsure of her. She peered over her shoulder at me, and her hair slid down her tall, slender frame in ringlets.
“Arlos believes I want this life, that I’ve accepted it because of my dossal demeanor. But he doesn’t know that I haven’t, and for now, I don’t want him to. My husband, Terry Cahle, is one of the men who traveled here with you along with my son, Soul.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
“Wait. Soul?” I asked.
And now, I could see it—the facial expressions she made, just like him. He had his mother’s narrow eye shape, brow line and the perfect cupid’s bow of her lips.
“Oh my God. You’re his…you’re Blake’s mother,” I concluded in awe.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “He is a hybrid-vampire. He goes by ‘Blake’, but his birth name is Soul, given to him by Arlos…the reason he doesn’t go by it anymore.”
“Wait. So, you and Arlos—I thought you said you were married to Terry, that you’re here against your will,” I tried to understand.
“I’ll explain. I’ve lost count of the many years it’s been since a desperate young priest in Paris, France, sought out the old town witch and pleaded for her help. She was a powerful witch, even for a human. The priest begged her and her husband, a skilled Celtic blacksmith, to aid him in creating a weapon that would protect him against the uprising threat of the undead, the vampires. The blacksmith forged two daggers. He worke
d diligently for the priest, and when they were finished, the blacksmith’s wife, the witch, cursed the first dagger and gave it a name—the Soleil Dagger, the ‘Dagger of the Sun’. She cursed the second dagger out of dormancy, leaving it open for alteration and offered it to the priest to bless. He did so, giving it a power, as well. The priest called it the Lumière Dagger, ‘The Dagger of Light’. Now the priest owned two weapons that were deadly to the vampires, one for himself, the other for someone of his choosing.
“However, the witch offered a warning. She’d used a formidable dark magic to pull the daggers out of their dormant states. Therefore, as long as they were together, with specific instruction, their powers could be re-altered to do things that would normally be impossible with other cursed items, such as opening portals into other dimensions and other devastatingly powerful abilities. Though she stated that only someone with a strong capability to cast along with her instruction could bring forth powers from the daggers, the witch still suggested the priest keep the daggers well hidden—and to never speak of them. The priest gave the second dagger to his only living family member, his daughter, Rosetta…me.
“My father and I tried to conceal our daggers from the undead, fearing they’d be taken from us. Although we were forced to use them several times, the secret never made its way to the ears of the townspeople. But the vampire world quickly gained knowledge of them. It wasn’t long after we began using them that we came home to a ransacked house. And we discovered that my father’s journal was the only thing missing. It held entries of the daggers’ origins and powers dictated to him by the witch. My father suspected the vampires. He worried his journal was in their hands and that now our daggers, along with their abilities and potential for opening dimensional portals, were no longer secret.
“After that night, my father told me that a man had begun following him around town. My father suspected the man was a vampire. At that time, I’d never seen this man for myself, only knew what he looked like from my father’s descriptions. He called him ‘the blue man’. According to my father, this man stalked us for weeks, causing us to move about the city daily to hide from him. We were forced to rent rooms in different inns in the area and so on.