Blood Haven: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

  “You aren’t your father. You aren’t your mother. You are you. That’s it. You are defined by your actions, by your thoughts, by your beliefs. You don’t have to hate what you are, though. Not all vampires are evil. Even some demons have to be good.”

  “You don’t know many demons, do you?” I ask dryly.

  He chuckles. “I don’t have to. Not every person in any type of being or creature is wholly evil.”

  “That’s easy enough to say, but—”

  “And I don’t mean to interrupt you, because that’s rude, or to argue, because that’s also rude, but I’m going to do both. I have to say that there is one paranormal being who is by far worse than a vampire as far as takers.”

  "Oh, yes? Which creature is that?"

  “Manticores,” he says without hesitation. “They not only drink blood, but they feast on human flesh. For that matter, there are zombies too. I think vampires are preferable to zombies. Now,” he says, holding up his hands, “none of this is to say that your feelings aren’t valid. They are. But you only have to worry about you as a vampire and as a person. Don’t lay the blames of the sins of your entire kind at your feet. You have amazing feet, but they don’t deserve to walk on all of those skeletons.” He flinches. “I shouldn’t have said skeletons.”

  I giggle and then shake my head as I breathe out a shaky breath. “Thank you. I… That helps me to have some perspective. I hadn’t thought of things like that before.”

  “I am always willing to help and be the hero.” He winks, grinning broadly.

  His teeth and fangs are perfectly white, and I can’t imagine they were ever stained with blood.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice suddenly deeper, huskier.

  “N-Nothing.” My heart flutters as I look away.

  A new song starts to play, and he taps his foot to the beat.

  “Do you like this song?” I ask him.

  “I do. It has a swift beat that just begs to be… danced to,” he says, shaking his head and waving his hand as if he can’t think of anything else to say.

  “That is the strangest way I’ve ever been asked to dance with someone,” I tease.

  He laughs. “How you ask doesn’t matter so long as you get the yes, and I did, yes?”

  “You did,” I assure him, and we dance, swaying to the music, laughing. He’s light on his feet, so very graceful, but then my heel gets caught in the cobblestones, and I start to fall.

  His arm slips around my waist, and he catches me. Instinctively, I put my arms around his neck, and we’re close, so very close. His body feels as if it’s on fire, as if he’s burning hot, and it must be from the excursion of our dancing, the closeness of our bodies. Vampires tend to be colder than most. At least, the dead, turned vampires are. The living ones can be closer in temperature to humans.

  Slowly, he draws me up, so we're both standing upright, his arm snug against my waist, our bodies now pressing against each other. The song switches over to a slower number, but I back away slightly, fiddling with the clip pinning half of my hair up and adjusting my dress.

  For some reason, I am terribly flustered, but I am not going to back away. I am not going to leave. Not yet.

  Slowly, I take a few steps and then turn to see if he will follow. He does, and we continue our walk, leaving the party farther behind.

  “Do you have any thoughts about what we are?” I ask, risking a glance in his direction.

  He stiffens slightly and then relaxes. “A person should be judged on their actions only. Well, their actions and their words,” he says. “It doesn’t matter if they’re a vampire, a demon, a human… a werewolf.”

  I blink a few times, surprised, and then I nod. “Yes, yes, I can see that. I suppose you’re right, but that’s not how anyone else sees the world. Most would think that naïve and foolish thinking.”

  “Maybe it is, but if we could all be more accepting of one another, maybe we wouldn’t have to live in the shadows of the red moon or any other moon. We could live out in the open.”

  “That’s foolish talk,” I hiss. “We can’t. The humans would slaughter all of us, starting with the vampires! We’re their biggest threat!”

  “But you said so yourself that you can feed without killing,” he protests.

  “We can, but that doesn’t mean all of us do.”

  “There are paranormal—”

  “Yes, the hunters to throw us in prison, and the executioners to kill us outright. I know. I just…” I hang my head and stop walking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it seem as if your thoughts aren’t valid.”

  “You’re afraid of what would happen if the humans learn about our existence. That’s only natural, and I don’t think less of you for being frightened. Most would be.”

  “But not the daring hero,” I tease.

  “My fear lies with a different matter.”

  I stare up at him, my smile fading from my lips but I suspect not from my eyes. “Please tell me,” I all but beg, wanting him to feel as close to me as I do to him after sharing my secret with him.

  “I’ve been feeling a lot of unrest lately in my life,” he admits, staring up at the sky. “I don’t know why, but I think… I have the feeling that something is going to happen, something that will change my life, and it’s ridiculous to feel that way. We don’t get to have premonitions. That’s something witches or fairies experience, not… not someone like us, but…”

  “We can all have magic manifest in strange ways,” I assure him, touching his wrist.

  He lifts his hand, and our fingers interlock as if we’ve held hands a hundred times before.

  “Who knows what your feelings mean,” I murmur. “Time will tell, but maybe the unrest is because you fear change. Change can be terrifying.”

  “Yes, it can be, but it isn’t always. Sometimes, change can be good.”

  “Yes, it can be very good.”

  “I think I don’t feel that unrest anymore,” he whispers.

  “No? What do you feel?”

  “I feel…”

  And he tips his head down and presses his lips against mine.

  Chapter 6

  Julian

  I don't know what bewitched me to kiss her. I know she's a vampire. If she only knows my true secret. That's my biggest fear.

  But as I hold her, cling to her as if she is my lifeforce, our kiss deepening, I feel even my fear ebbing away. At this moment, all I need is her. She can ease my soul and chase away all of my worries, my fears, my doubts. In its place, I feel only acceptance.

  That acceptance, though, will flee. When she learns who I am…

  No. She can never learn. If she does, she'll never look at me as she does now that I'm easing back from the kiss. The red in her eyes isn't so jarring. I can accept their hue, accept that she's a vampire.

  She’s not like the others. Even if she did drink from humans, I have no doubt that she wouldn’t be one of the vampires to kill. She values life too much for that, and that is what I appreciate about her. This vampire is the one that could change everything for the vampires if they would just be willing to listen to a young female.

  She smiles and leans forward, her forehead pressing against my chest.

  “I don’t normally kiss a strange man within an hour of meeting him,” she murmurs, her words muffled.

  I lean back so I can slip my hand down beneath her chin to guide her head up so I can stare into her eyes once more.

  “I’m not a strange man,” I inform her. “After all, I’m a hero, right?”

  She giggles.

  "And I can't be that terrible either, or else you wouldn't have been so open with me."

  “I… It scares me that I’ve been so open with you,” she murmurs.

  “Is it because you think we’ll never see each other again?” I can hardly get the words out. My chest constricts with fear that what I spoke of will become reality.

  “I… I don’t think so,” she says slowly. “Isn’t tha
t pathetic? That I don’t know?”

  “We live in confusing times,” I assure her. “You don’t have to worry about the specifics. Let’s just enjoy the here and now.”

  She nods slowly and starts to sway. It takes me a moment to realize she’s moving in time with the slow, sultry music floating toward us. My hands fall to her hips, and we begin to dance. Her head rests against my chest, and I lean my cheek on her head. We say not a word, but nothing needs to be said. For a moment, everything is perfect.

  When the song ends, a faster one starts, but we continue to sway, ignoring the music we hear with our ears, instead making our own music.

  Eventually, she does pull away, and I discreetly look at my watch. I only have a short amount of time left until the potion wears off.

  “Do you have to go?” she asks.

  “Not yet,” I promise her.

  She tucks her hair back, hesitates, and then brushes my hair from my forehead. It promptly falls right back down again, and she laughs.

  I claim her hand, and we walk some more. I can’t help glancing around.

  “It does look so different under the red moon,” she says, looking about herself. “The castles here are so old. Sometimes, I think I can sense some ghosts, but I’ve never seen one. Have you?”

  “I haven’t, not here or anywhere. I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

  “What’s that?” she asks, smiling up at me.

  “I’m afraid I’ll come back as one.”

  “But that would mean you would have to die a violent death.” She stares at me with horror in her red eyes.

  “It’s more because I’m afraid I’ll die with unfinished business.”

  “You know the saying humans use because their lives are so fragile.” She grins slightly. “Live each day like it’s your last. Live with no regrets. That way, even if you have a violent death, you can still have peace.”

  Peace. I’ve found peace in her. Something about her soothes my soul, and I don’t know if there’s to be peace in my life if she’s not by my side.

  I don’t say that, of course. That would terrify her and make her think I’m moving far too fast, and maybe I am. It doesn’t matter, though. What’s done is done. That kiss marked my soul as hers, and nothing can change that.

  “Peace,” I echo. “Do you think peace is most important?”

  “No.”

  “Love then.”

  “No, actually, I think hope is most important,” she says.

  “Hope can be false and rather cruel.”

  “At times, but love can lead to a broken heart too, so love isn’t always kind either.”

  “Maybe we should strive to be emotionless voids. Would that be best?” I ask and then laugh because that’s not possible, not at all.

  “That would be terrible! It’s better to have loved and lost—”

  “…than to never love at all. Another human expression. You give them a lot of credit. Not all paranormal beings do.”

  “I thought we already establish that I’m not like most,” she says lightly. “Don’t worry. You aren’t either, Mr. Hero.”

  I laugh. “If I am Mr. Hero, then who are you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Miss Hopeful?”

  She purses her lips and wrinkles her dainty little nose.

  “I take that as a no, then. How about Miss…”

  “I don’t like Miss.”

  “No?” I throw up my hands. “Then what do you like?”

  “I like Mr. Hero for you.”

  I scowl, but it holds no malice. “That’s not very helpful.”

  She giggles and shrugs one shoulder. "Sorry."

  “That’s a ‘not sorry’ if I ever heard one.”

  She winks, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask for her name, but I don’t. I don’t want to risk losing any of the fun we have. Asking for her name at this point would make the conversation less playful, and I suspect that she needs a bit of playful in her life.

  “Well, then, how about… Not damsel.”

  “Certainly not!” she says indignantly.

  “Champion,” I murmur. “Vampire Champion.”

  “I’m no champion,” she protests.

  “I’ll let you in on another secret,” I murmur, leaning down to whisper this bit in her ear, “I’m no hero.”

  “Hmm. Fine then. You can call me Vampire Champion if you like but only when we’re alone.”

  “And if we aren’t alone?” I ask.

  “I am—”

  "There you are!" A vampire with golden-brown hair marches toward us. "Oh! Am I interrupting something?"

  “Yes, Tyra, you are,” Vampire Champion says firmly, glancing up at me.

  I wave to the vampire, but she just gapes at Vampire Champion before turning rigid.

  “If you need me…”

  “I won’t,” Vampire Champion says, her tone still firm.

  “But if you do—”

  “I don’t.” Vampire Champion forces a smile, which looks so very strange to me. All of the smiles she’s given me, even the tiny ones, have been so much softer, sweeter, more beautiful than this mockery of one.

  Tyra’s eyes flash, and she turns around. In the blink of an eye, she’s disappeared.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Vampire Champion faces me again. “That’s Tyra. She’s my cousin, and she can be a bit overly protective.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Do you want to continue walking?”

  “Of course,” I say, and now I’m the one to force a smile because my chance to learn her name has come and gone.

  And if I do learn her name, what then? What good can come of my learning who she is? Because if she learns who I truly am, she will want nothing to do with me.

  The thought of never seeing her again terrifies me, but perhaps it would be for the best. The very reason we are so very connected to each other and willing to be so open, telling each other things we've never told anyone else, might simply be because we do not know who the other is. We haven't shared names, which means there is less of a risk. We can be open without fear of harm precisely because we do not know enough about each other for it to matter.

  This realization makes the uneasiness in my chest return, and I grow restless, walking faster, not knowing where we are heading as she easily matches my swift pace.

  The thing is… I do want to know her, far more than her name. I want the connection the kiss promised.

  And, just like that, the uneasiness of my soul disappears once more.

  “What exactly are you trying to outrun?” she asks me softly.

  “DO you ever feel as if your soul is on fire?” I ask.

  She shudders. Fire is one of a vampire’s few weaknesses.

  Her gaze drops to the ground before she looks up at me through lowered lashes that cast a faint shadow on her cheek, making her look more angelic than a vampire has any right to appear.

  “Yes, actually. My parents, they try to control me. They wish for me to do as they say, and I suppose it’s understandable to some extent. Parents should want what’s best for their child, right? But I don’t know. I want to make my own choices. I want to be free, and that’s why I’m here, attending the academy? Why are you here?”

  My heart thunders in my chest. She has to hear that it's beating faster now. To give a reason for it, I seize her hand, and my heart rate speeds up yet again.

  “At this very moment, I am here because of you,” I say.

  A vampire can blush. Who would have thought that possible? She must have a lot of blood in her, a thought that sickens me until I recall who her father is. She’s a living vampire, not a dead one. She can blush because of her father, which is paradoxical because I doubt very much that anything can make a demon blush.

  The breeze shifts, and I swear for a moment, I smell Mercy. Does that mean… The potion?

  In my haste and worry, I do not bother to hide looking at my watch.

  “I bore you,” she say
s.

  “No, not at…” I stare up at her to see that she’s barely hiding a smile. “You know that’s not the case.”

  “Will you turn into a pumpkin?” she teases. “Leave behind a… Not a glass slipper. Your…”

  She reaches up and removes the red handkerchief from my pocket.

  “This?” She holds it up, and it flutters on the faint nightly breeze, the same shade as her eyes.

  "If you mean to hold that hostage so that I will return for it, I won't," I say hoarsely. "You can have all I possess, and still, that won't be enough."

  “All of it? Why?”

  “All of me,” I clarify.

  She dips her head. “You’re frightening me.”

  “I do not mean to.”

  “I know,” she whispers, “and I know why you are saying these things, and I… I feel the same, but…”

  She finally lifts her head, and the tears swimming in her eyes make them glow like jewels, not cold and unfeeling but warm and alive, and I have to. Once more, I kiss her, only this time it’s goodbye. I don’t know for how long, but I kiss her with every part of my body and my mind.

  Not my soul, not yet, but perhaps one day. As for my heart…

  I break away and lean my forehead against hers.

  “You must go now,” she murmurs.

  “Yes.”

  "Then go, but may the moon always guide you."

  Is there a ring of a promise on her lips in these words? Does she long for the moon to guide me back to her? It seems almost a prayer and one I desperately want granted.

  I feel almost as if I am a fairy or else a bird shifter of some kind because I am practically floating as I walk away from her.

  Once I have left her a fair distance behind, I spy glowing eyes in bushes.

  Mercy.

  Her eyes flash as she jumps out. “Do you have any idea who it was that you just kissed?” she hisses.

  “A vampire. I know, but—”

  “Not just any vampire,” she says. “Romelia Covenshade.”

  “Romelia,” I murmur. It’s a beautiful name, quite fitting, and—

  “Romelia Covenshade,” Mercy repeats with a sense of urgency.

  I frown, my brow furrowing. “And?”