It’s too late.
I looked up and into the sunlight.
Chapter 11
My arms flew up to cover my face. I squeezed my eyes tight and waited for excruciating death to wrest me from this place.
Behind me Paolo’s remains hissed and crackled. His ashes settled on my skin. I inhaled his smoke, held the burned taste in the back of my throat. But I felt no pain.
How quickly it happens. It didn’t even hurt.
I opened my eyes and saw my sunlit bicep. I turned my hands over as if I was holding the sun’s rays in my palms. I rubbed my forearms.
“What…?”
I’m alive.
I looked at Paolo over my shoulder. He was like an ancient statue, battered by time and the elements. You could still make out the shape of his legs, his crooked arm shielding his head. But he had stumps for hands and his face had caved in.
I don’t understand. Vampires burn in the sun. I’m not burning.
None of it made sense. Then it struck me. Hope.
Maybe I’m not a vampire.
This realization filled me with elation. If true, this would rewrite my history. It would mean that I could return to my life, to my family. That one day, this could all be a horrible, distant memory.
I heard an abrupt crack and I turned to see Paolo’s head fall and break apart.
I had to get out of here. The vampires would come for me and when they saw that I had not died, they would find some other way of killing me.
I stepped over Paolo and searched the iron door for a handle. No knob. No way of opening it from the inside. I tried to push it but it wouldn’t budge, and I stumbled back, hitting Paolo’s calf. His leg below the knee crumbled like dry earth.
Only one way out.
I stretched my arms and my fingertips caught the lip of a stone. I pulled my body up. It was easier than I had expected. It was almost as if I had no weight. My toes found footholds on the smallest edges. I ran my hands above my head until at least one of my fingers slipped into a crevice or until I could grab rock between my fingers and thumbs, squeezing the stone like a vice.
This again. Climbing. It’s like I’ve died and become Spider-Man.
I tried to be careful, patient. I waited until I could make each move safely. One step at a time. My chains rattled against the wall and I had to be mindful not to step on them. You can do this. Keep going. Don’t look down. Almost there.
I never looked back at Paolo. The sun warmed my face as I climbed.
At the top, the roar of the waves was deafening. I had a firm hold on a brick with my right hand; I grabbed the metal grate with my free hand—please, this is my only chance—and gave it a push. The bolts gave. Grunting, I thrust my palm up and the grate broke off. I slid it over enough for me to climb out.
I looked around. There was nothing but water, wind, and sky. I straddled the two-foot-thick tower wall and blinked at the twinkling, deep blue expanse. The prison tower sat on the edge of a cliff, away from the castle. Rolling waves exploded against its base. A single gull floated on the wind over the water.
I crouched on the stone lip of the tower, my feet together, my chained hands on either side of them just barely able to grip the tower’s edge. I was going to have to jump out far enough to clear the rocks. Do this and you’ll be free. You’ll find a way home.
Or I’ll smack my head on a rock and then drown.
There wasn’t room to run and leap. You can do this.
I steadied myself and slowly rose, my feet apart, my legs bent, my arms outstretched.
“One,” I said. The wind muffled the count. I hesitated a minute before resuming.
“Two.”
Three!
I squatted back on my left foot and launched forward. For a second, only a second, I was running in the air, my feet pedaling against the sky. Then I was plummeting. I screamed, took a breath and screamed again. I saw the ocean rush at me and I feared the horrible moment when we would collide. Instead, I broke through the blue floor. My body seemed to explode on impact, the cold arresting all my senses. I sank, my toes pointed downward until I tucked my legs in and kicked out. I kicked again and surfaced at the climax of a wave, which was about to hurl me against the cliffs. I gasped and dived under. I kicked in the other direction. The current pushed against me but I sank deeper until the ocean floor and its sand and pebbles and jagged bits pressed against my stomach and scratched my knees.
I don’t know how long I stayed there or how long I swam. I don’t know when I realized that I didn’t need to take a breath.
***
I awoke face down in mud. Water surged over my legs and receded, pulling sand and debris from under my body and back into the ocean. I remembered swimming. I could have been swimming all day. I flopped over onto my back and tried to rub away the dirt caked on my eyelids and the hair matted to my face, but my hands were covered in soil and my chains were tangled in dead plants. My tongue tasted salt and earth. Granules of sand crunched between my teeth. I ached with hunger.
The setting sun had left angry red streaks across the lavender sky. The splotches of purple on the horizon looked like fresh bruises.
I rolled over and crawled away from the shore until the dirt and sand became grass. I stood up slowly and staggered toward a forest, crunching twigs under my bare feet. Leaning on a tree I put my hand to my chest, and my thumb slid under a soft chain.
After all that had happened, I was still wearing the necklace that Paolo had given me. I gripped the pendant and tore it from my neck. The chain snapped. With a cry I launched it into the trees.
I am finally free.
Freedom. Relief. Triumph. I allowed myself to feel those things. I let out a laugh and then a sob. I wove wearily through the trees and descended into a ravine. I saw only snippets of the sky through the green canopy. I gathered the length of chain dragging between my legs and wrapped it around my hands. I trudged farther, and soon the sound of water faded and was replaced by the rustle of leaves and the song of insects. It comforted me. I let my mind go blank for the first time in days and I just walked. A sleepwalker.
The light receded and night took over. I could still see the forest before me, although everything appeared in shades of gray.
I survived the sun. That makes me not a vampire. But I have night vision and I swam along the ocean floor for hours. That makes me a vampire. Is there an in-between?
I pushed through branches and the constant crackling assailed my ears. My body felt like it was filled with pulp. Every step was work. I leaned on a muscular tree and scanned the woods, looking for a place to rest. Across a small clearing I saw something gleam. What is that? Squinting, I shuffled toward it. Closer, it looked like a silver line drawn on a tree trunk. It’s a chain. I reached up and took the tiny chain in my hand. I gave it a tug but it was stuck to the tree. I dug my fingers into the bark and pried the silver object out of the tree.
It was my necklace.
Confused, I looked around. I don’t understand. How did this get here? My tired mind remembered throwing this away. I did. I threw this away. Didn’t I? A small gasp escaped my lips. Had I thrown it this far? Had I thrown it hard enough to embed it into a tree?
“What the…”
In response, I heard a toad croaking. It was squatting at the base of a moss-covered tree trunk, blowing its throat into a huge bubble. I stood, staring at it, waiting for it to leave but it didn’t move. And I was thankful because it eased my loneliness.
“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve just had,” I said.
No answer. I crouched, facing the toad’s glassy black eyes and throbbing gullet.
“If this was a fairy tale, we’d kiss and you’d turn into a prince,” I said.
Croak.
“It could happen. Crazier things have happened.”
The toad hopped away and I heard its bloated body land in some bushes. “Thanks for the chat.”
I felt alone again. Except that all of a sudden, I wasn’t.
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A man stood about thirty feet from me. A wide-brimmed hat hid his face but he was staring in my direction. I dropped my necklace and froze. Something in his hand caught the moonlight. It was an ax.
Chapter 12
I should have run but before I could react, he was ten feet away. He was wearing a pea-green T-shirt and cargo pants. He looked up from under his brown hat and squinted at me. A handsome man, he appeared to be in his late forties. In a low, hoarse voice he said something in Italian. I should have studied harder at the language school. He took a step forward and I stepped back. He pressed his thin lips together and nodded once, then slid the handle of his small ax into his belt loop. He repeated himself.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
“Young lady, are you lost?” he asked in English.
I said nothing.
“My name is Noel,” he said. “Are you lost?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Are you alone? I heard you talking to someone.”
“I…I was talking to a toad.”
“I see,” he said. “Did he talk back?”
I shook my head.
“That is a good sign. Where are you headed?”
I didn’t know so I couldn’t say.
“Where did you come from?”
“I’m from Canada.”
“Well,” he said. He put his hands on his hips. “You are a long way from home.”
All of a sudden, my knees trembled and my peripheral vision became fuzzy. Everything started to turn sideways. Either the world was tipping over, or I was falling. Noel rushed to my side.
“Whoa, easy there,” he said. He held my elbows and shook me until my lolling head rolled backward. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”
I tried to say that I was fine, but it came out in a mumble. I felt woozy.
He looked at my shackles. “Who did this to you?” his voice was so far away. “Don’t worry. We can get these off of you.”
He lowered me onto my knees and kicked a rock in front of me. He positioned my hands on either side of the rock and pulled his ax free.
“Now, don’t move.”
He didn’t give me a second to answer or even blink. With one swoop, he cut through the links between my manacles. The chain that had held me to the wall jangled as it piled onto the ground.
“My house is nearby. Why don’t you stop there, rest your feet, have something to drink and then you can be on your way? I have some tools there to get these things off of your wrists.”
I tried to meet his green eyes but my eyes would not focus. He had soot smeared across the bumpy bridge of his nose. He interpreted my murmuring as an affirmative answer and led me further into the forest. I was so tired. The journey was a blur, punctuated by crickets, the whisper of leaves, trickling water, and Noel’s encouragement: “Easy. Almost there.” I stumbled over some rocks and had to grab his forearm to steady myself.
“Careful now,” he said. “We’ll need to find you some shoes.”
He lifted me over a creek, like a father would a child, his hands under my armpits and in a sweeping arc.
“You must have been through something awful,” he said, almost to himself. “You must be a very brave girl.”
Or a stupid girl, following a stranger to his deserted house in the woods. He could be a serial killer. Then again, I’m the undead.
In the distance, I thought I heard the tinkle of bells. “It’s just beyond these trees,” he said.
His squat, gray stone house sat in the middle of a clearing, its roof shingles weathered and covered in moss. On either side of the entrance was a shuttered window, and a crystal wind chime dangled beside the wooden door. The air smelled like firewood.
I waited at the front door while he went inside and fumbled for lights.
“I keep telling Jerome to go into town to fix our generator,” Noel said, his voice becoming soft and then loud as he moved around the house. I heard the sizzle of a match. He lit several lanterns.
From the entrance I scanned the living room on my left and a dining area on my right. Inside, the walls were bare stone. If only the ceilings weren’t so low I could show Noel my wall-climbing prowess in his home.
Against one wall sat a mahogany-framed Victorian sofa. In front of the sofa, there was a rectangular coffee table and a black rocking chair. An intricate spider web spread across the rungs on the back of the chair; tiny victims were wound up in gauze in every quadrant but there was no sign of their predator. Four chairs were pushed under a round dining table covered with hardcover books, mallets, and other tools. Beyond the living area the kitchen was bare, except for a few glasses and mugs arrayed on the wooden, L-shaped counter.
“Come in,” he said. He threw his hat on the counter and rubbed his short brown hair.
I took one step inside on the tips of my toes. “I’m sorry about…” I looked down at my dirty legs and feet on the hardwood floors.
“Don’t worry. Look, I’m wearing my boots. None of us ever cleans anyway. Come in and close the door. Let me get you a glass of something.”
He bent over the sink and began rinsing out a white teacup with a faded floral pattern and a curly handle.
“I should get Jerome to sweep or dust or something.”
“Jerome is your son?” I asked. I didn’t want to sit. Everything was covered in a layer of dust so I just leaned on a dining chair to steady myself.
“I consider him like a son. My son’s name is Lucas. They’re probably both out back, trying to avoid their chores. Let me call them.”
He left the teacup in the sink and pulled open a back door. “Boys, come in here.”
I heard grunting and the clink of metal against metal. I leaned backward so I could peer out the door. In the field behind the house, two figures circled each other, their long swords glinting in the moonlight. They approached one another until the tips of their blades crossed.
“Attack,” the taller one said.
“What is your name?” Noel said. I looked at him as he opened a small fridge with rounded corners.
“Zee. My name is Zee,” I said. When my eyes flitted back, the smaller figure was rolling in the grass and the taller one stood over him, holding his sword over his shoulder.
“Boys!” Noel called.
The taller one extended his hand and pulled his opponent to his feet. They slipped their swords into sheaths and came jogging toward the house, two shirtless young men in dark, baggy shorts.
“I keep telling you to keep your blade higher or you’ll slash your own neck when you block,” the taller one said. He had a smooth baritone voice.
The smaller one bounded into the house and stopped dead inside the doorway. He looked to be about fourteen years old, with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. A slow smile spread across his face. “Hey, Lucas. Check this out.”
The taller one stepped in. About six feet tall, slim and muscled, he had olive skin and close-cropped brown hair. He seemed to be about my age or older. He looked me up and down; he wasn’t smiling. I tugged my skirt toward my knees.
“Boys, this is Zee.”
“Hello,” the smaller guy said, bowing his head. “I am called Jerome.”
“I found her lost in the woods. She’s just stopping by for a rest,” Noel said.
“What did we say about taking in strays?” Lucas said in a monotone.
“Ignore him, Zee. He can be a little moody.”
“What’s with the schoolgirl outfit?” Lucas said.
I hugged my arms across my chest. “These clothes aren’t mine,” I said.
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “And the cuffs?”
“I thought they went with the outfit.”
Jerome smiled, but Lucas remained stone-faced.
“Jerome, get a chair for Zee.”
Jerome ran up to me and grabbed the chair that I was leaning on. He pulled it out and spun it around. “Please,” he said. He pushed a stack of books away, creating streaks of dust on the table. Lucas crossed his arms over
his abs and leaned back against the fridge.
“Thanks,” I said and sat down.
Noel set the teacup in front of me. “Here you go.”
I looked down and gasped. It was filled almost to the brim with blood. I looked up at them.
“What’s wrong?” Noel asked.
“How did you know that I was…”
“Was what?” Lucas said.
I scanned each of their faces. Noel looked confused, Jerome curious, and Lucas irritated.
“That I was a…”
“Vampire?” Lucas said.
I nodded.
“Do we look like idiots?” Lucas retorted.
“Of course not,” I said.
“Are you an idiot?” Lucas again.
“Possibly,” I said.
“Lucas,” Noel said.
“We’re vampires,” Lucas said. “We can hear that your heart doesn’t beat.”
Chapter 13
I had put myself in a dangerous position. “Are you an idiot?” Lucas had said. Yes. I am. I needed to leave. I pushed my chair back and tried to stand. Instead I slipped to the floor, causing Jerome to cry out in alarm. Lucas sighed and left through the back door. Jerome put me back in the chair.
“Are you new?” Noel asked.
I nodded.
“When?”
“I’m not sure anymore. Yesterday or the day before.”
“Where is your sire?”
“My what? I don’t understand.”
“Your sire. The one who made you,” he said.
“I don’t know. I don’t have one,” I said.
“What about your guardian?”
My parents? I shook my head.
“My God, your sire abandoned you without a guardian.” Noel frowned. “It’s his holy duty to care for you or at least to entrust a guardian to do so. What kind of vampire would do that?”
I said nothing. I felt dishonest. But how could I explain?
“Have you fed?”
I made a face and shook my head again.
“This is why you’re so weak,” he said. “Here, you need to drink this immediately.” He picked up the teacup by its rim and held it out in front of me. Reluctantly I slipped my index finger into its delicate handle.