by L. M. Miller
“If I recall from her report, she drank sixty-four pints until she was full?” Nurse Molly gasped at Sir Cosmos’s words.
“Sixty-four pints?! That’s three people completely! And nine pints from another person! That would kill them too! Why do you-” the nurse prattled, and Seph caught her thought before Phin could quickly cut her off.
“I suggest you do not finish that thought, Nurse Molly, although it is already too late,” he glanced at Seph, who had heard the entire thought.
Why do you let such a creature live… She had been thinking that. The nurse had classified her as a creature and had deemed her too dangerous to live. What a relief… She sure hoped she wouldn’t end up in this place again, although she sincerely doubted that. She seemed to have a knack for injuries.
“We are here today, Persephone,” Sir Cosmos’s voice cut through the tension between Phin and the nurse like a knife, and their eyes immediately broke away from each other’s. “We are here today, Persephone, because we need to know what happened earlier tonight. It’s about five in the morning. Dinner is in an hour, but you can take as much time as you need. We can arrange to bring you some blood here if you need it as well,” he continued, and she shook her head, straightening up.
“It’s not too long a story. I don’t think… I was in the courtyard, running, and I wasn’t paying attention,” Phin’s eyes bored into her, but she was not about to tell the whole story leading up to that point. “A werewolf suddenly attacked me. I turned around in time. I misted and guided him to the Werewolf Warehouse as soon as I could. The only problem was, once I was in there, I couldn’t get back out. He had injured me when he first attacked me, and I was already a little hungry. My powers weren’t working so well, and there’s some type of force field in there,” she explained, and Sir Sanzio nodded.
Obviously, the force field was his doing. She debated about glaring at him or not. She opted not to. It wasn’t his fault. This had obviously not been his intent.
“They started attacking, so I started fighting. Francesca helped,” Sir Sanzio and Sir Cosmos gave her a quizzical look. “I remembered her werewolf form from before. She’s pure gold, and we have our tattoos,” she showed the black sun on the back of her left hand. “She has a crescent moon on the back of her left hand… or paw… Anyways, she helped out, in complete control, but there were just too many. Luckily, Sir Sanzio got me outta there when he did, otherwise…” she trailed off, and they all nodded knowingly. “What was that light you used to get them away? It hurt,” she mentioned, and Sir Sanzio grinned.
“UV rays. I didn’t realize you were the one in there. There are so few vampires in this school compared to the number of witches and wizards. It’s fitting that one of the ten vampires would be in there, and I used a werewolf deterrent that was also a vampire deterrent,” he stated blandly, shaking his head like the adult that he was, blue hair flying.
She caught Phin looking over at Sir Sanzio with gratitude clearly wrought on his face. He was happy that Sir Sanzio had saved her in time. He was also more relieved than even a worried teacher or student should be about the safety of another student. There was something underlying his emotions… She didn’t dwell on it. They could both pick up on each other’s feelings and emotions too well. That is what happens from blood drinking.
“We’ll have to reinforce the perimeter at the Werewolf Warehouse,” Sir Cosmos sighed, and Seph just looked at him confusedly.
“Reinforce them? They’re the reason I couldn’t get out,” she said, and now it was his turn to look confused.
“Yes, but isn’t that the reason that the werewolf escaped and attacked you? Because the perimeter was too weak?” He questioned her, and she just shook her head.
“Sir Cosmos, I’m not that weak. I’m actually a pretty strong vampire. Besides, I’m pretty sure he didn’t think he needed to be in the warehouse anymore, but he lost control or something,” she explained, and now she had their full attention.
“You know who your original attacker was?” Phin asked, and she grimaced, realizing that she probably should have protected her friend’s identity and kept that information to herself.
“Not necessarily,” she started with a hopeful, little grin, but Phin glared at her sternly. “All right, it was Rodney. I recognized him because he had shifted into that pitch-black werewolf just a week or so ago when I attacked Tristan,” she admitted, and she saw the look that passed between Sir Cosmos and Sir Sanzio. “Please don’t punish him or anything. I know what it’s like to lose control…” Sir Cosmos held up a hand for silence.
“We’re not going to beat him or anything, Persephone. Sir Sanzio here is just going to have a little talk with him once he’s human again about going to the Were-House from now on instead of the Were-Corral, where werewolves who think they have at least some control, rest. We have a slight force field set up there that they could break through if they really tried, but usually, the pain zaps them back to their senses. I guess not for him,” Sir Cosmos sighed again, shaking his head.
“I need to move,” Seph announced, suddenly rising to her feet.
“Persephone!” Nurse Molly’s voice was filled with dismay.
“I’m fine, and I finished my little interview,” she said, pulling out her own IV quickly and holding her bleeding wrist to her mouth in order to seal the wound.
“Oh fine,” dithered Nurse Molly, bustling away and muttering to herself.
“After you, Miss Black,” Sir Sanzio gestured for her to move towards the door, and she did, straightening her skirt as she left the three men, two wizards and one vampire all to their own matters.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
She walked out into the courtyard. A few students were milling about, but not too many. No one paid her any mind. She had tied back her hair. It had been pretty crazy-looking. The nurse had at least cleaned all the dried blood off her when she had been unconscious, and no one could focus enough to see the pearly-white marks on her already fair skin. She made her way down a familiar path, heading for a particular place.
Tristan was there, leaning his back up against the tree he had climbed the time she had tried to kill him. He caught sight of her and nodded in her direction, just a pleasant acknowledgement of each other. She was heading for the tree, and now there was a companion beside it. She sat down on the ground roughly and leaned her back against the tree as Tristan stood beside her, also leaning against the tree. They just stayed there for a while, basking in the other’s quiet.
“Do you ever miss the sun?” Tristan asked after they had both stared at the night sky for a while.
She involuntarily shuddered, thinking about those UV rays. She thought about his question for a moment. The sun… She stared at the back of her left hand, at the black sun etched there in her skin.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I do miss the sun. I miss its warmth,” she admitted, and he nodded.
She missed its ambiance too, just being the sun, the happy-go-lucky sun… She loved the night too, but the moon was silvery and stalwart. Sometimes, she just wanted to be happy and cheerful. She suspected that this would change in time as she became a more hardened vampire. She kind of hoped that it wouldn’t. Who wanted to be completely cold all the time? She was cold enough already.
“I miss the sun too,” Tristan said, and she agreed. “I miss my uncles and the farm we lived on,” Seph looked up, listening. “We have this farmhouse. It’s a bit too old, but I like it. We also have this horse. She’s a dapple-grey mare, sweetest horse you ever met, and she loves apples. We called her… Apple,” Seph laughed softly. “I know. Creativity at its finest… She’s getting a little old, but we aren’t about to salvage her,” he grimaced, and she did too. “I miss those wheat fields we have though. When the sun hits those fields just right, they look like pure gold waving in the wind,” he smiled, reminiscing. “The cornfields we have… You could get lost in them for hours…” He just smiled, missing his home. “Do you miss anything?” He suddenly asked, and s
he thought about it.
What did she miss? She recalled her foster mother, Janette, flying towards her with a stake in hand. She remembered rolling around on the ground with her, looking up to see Bill just watching, not helping and not caring. Janette had thrown those dishes at her. Bill had actually shot at her twice. She did not miss them. She missed the idea of them. She missed the idea of a family. A perfect, little family… Something she had never had.
“I miss my brother and my sister, Pearce and Pearl. I really, really miss them,” she suddenly felt tears spring to her eyes, but she batted them away quickly. “I miss my foster brothers too. Little Manny and Bobby, Dean and Terrence, Lawrence, Nate…” She trailed off.
“Nate was the one you attacked, right?” Tristan clarified, and she nodded.
“He actually has forgiven me. They all wrote me some cards, and my foster parents gave them to me earlier. He said he forgives me,” she smiled a little sadly up at him.
“I haven’t forgiven you,” Tristan remarked, and she gave him a sharp, hardened look. “There’s nothing for me to forgive you of,” he concluded, and her smile broadened at him.
They stayed there another fifteen minutes or so until it was finally dinnertime. They stared out at the general scenery, at the meandering students, at the night sky, at the dawn just beginning to peek over the horizon. The sky was dove-gray at the edges, slowly permeating the rich lavender. White puffs of clouds could be seen, like dollops of whipped cream hanging above. It was beautiful. It was a beautiful moment. Finally, the large clock positioned above the Main Hall struck six.
“Want some food?” Tristan offered, helping her to her feet.
“I want some blood,” she grinned at him, licking her chops as her eyes swirled to a stormy gray.
At their usual table, Stefan, Linda, and Abernathy soon joined them. Nobody knew about anything that had happened with Seph, except for Tristan, of course. He was keeping his mouth shut though. He had watched her walk out of the infirmary. Also, he wasn’t blind and had noticed the marks on her skin.
“So, how did your parents’ day go, Seph?” Stefan asked her, taking a large gulp of some warm, B negative blood.
She grimaced, and they all looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“We all usually have bad experiences with our parents, especially the first parents’ day. They can get better sometimes,” he added to her, wanting to give her some hope.
“It went as good as could be expected,” she said with a vague, little shrug.
Their thoughts clamored in her head with her fresh dose of blood. They were all wondering what on earth that meant. She was wondering which one of them was going to ask her outright. It turned out to be Abernathy, of course.
“What does that mean, Seph?” She asked her, and the girl grinned, showing her fangs disconcertedly.
“Well, all the kids wrote me some really nice cards. Nate forgave me. Pearl and Pearce said they still love me even though they’re afraid of me,” now they were all looking sad for her. “Oh, and my foster mother tried to stake me while my foster dad just watched,” she concluded rapidly with a bright, beaming smile.
Abernathy appeared absolutely terrified for her, her small eyes wide. Linda looked beyond angry, her round face turning red. Stefan just shrugged. They all experienced bad things when their parents came to visit their vampire children. His wouldn’t even bother to visit. They were too lazy for their weird son. Tristan was shaking his head, disappointed with humanity by the sound of his thoughts.
“I can’t believe they would do that!” Linda exclaimed, and Stefan rested a hand on her shoulder, attempting to calm her down.
“I can. People… People can just be… cruel…” Tristan stated, and the two Asian girls turned to stare at their fellow wizard.
What had made him so bitter?
“Stuff like that usually happens for us vampires. One in every five about. Whose parents also did that… Phin’s…” For some reason, Seph felt herself blush a little at the mention of his name as Stefan pointed out yet another bond between her and their vampire teacher’s aide of sorts.
“Didn’t his brothers or something try to kill him too?” She ventured, not mentioning that she had heard those thoughts in his mind.
“Somethin’ like that,” Stefan responded vaguely, returning to his drink and not elaborating on the point.
They remained like that for a while, making idle chitchat. All of them were dwelling on their thoughts. Linda was wondering why Tristan was so cynical, and Tristan was wondering how his uncles were doing. Abernathy was wondering how Seph could possibly go on with no parental figures to speak of to help her out, and Seph was wondering how awkward it was going to be with Rodney in two days. Stefan was dwelling on his own parents, both either incarcerated or immobile at that very moment. Life could be tough for a magical teenager. Life could be tough for a normal teenager.
The next day was the last of the three days in which all the werewolves were gone from the hallways. Seph looked forward to tomorrow, when she would get to see Francesca and Rodney again. It was definitely going to be a little bit awkward seeing Rodney after what had happened. She had forgiven him, although, like Tristan had said, she really had nothing to forgive him for. He was just acting according to his nature. Lucky he had attacked her and not some wandering witch or wizard though. He might have really hurt them. As it was, she did walk with a limp down the hallways nowadays.
Vampires healed at amazing rates, and she was a decent healer. However, werewolf bites and wounds took longer to heal because they were meant to hurt vampires the most. Vampires and werewolves had always hated each other until not but a century ago when a sort of peace fell between them, and Zephyr Hall came into existence. Vampire bites hurt werewolves the most, and werewolf bites hurt vampires the most.
Fourth period came, and she hurried over to Sir Sanzio before the warning bell rang. She wanted to speak with him before class. When he caught sight of her limping over, he nodded, obviously expecting her. He did not help, which she appreciated. Most vampires were particularly prideful, as she was, and they would greatly resent a helping hand, no matter how much they may need it.
“Sir Sanzio,” he nodded at her once more, waiting for her to speak. “Thank you,” she breathed out, and he batted away the thanks as if it were nothing. “No, seriously, Sir Sanzio. You saved my life. I was really failing there at the end, and they probably would have ripped me to pieces if not for you,” he shook his head again and rolled his violet eyes at her, which she didn’t appreciate.
“Miss Black, you have nothing to thank me for. It is my fault that I was not watching the werewolves more closely. If I had been, the entire incident would not have even occurred, and you would not be in the limping state that you are in now,” he gestured at her, and she scowled.
“It’s hardly a limp, Sir Sanzio. It doesn’t really hurt. Anyways, I was just thanking you all the same,” she inclined her head slightly towards him and then turned away, hobbling into class with her backpack slung over her hunched shoulder.
She took her usual seat and missed the presence of Francesca’s warm body sitting beside her quickly. Suddenly, she remembered something and hurried back over to Sir Sanzio, leaving her backpack on her seat. She needed to speak with him again quietly just as the warning bell rang.
“Yes, Miss Black?” He raised his sky-blue eyebrows at her.
“What about Rodney, Sir Sanzio? What are you, or did you, do about him? It really wasn’t his fault, Sir Sanzio. He couldn’t help himself. He would never attack me otherwise,” she explained, and once more, he shook his head at her.
“Mr. Steele was in a separate holding pen that we have to help wean werewolves so that eventually, they can remain in their dormitories until the three days are over. It is for those werewolves that are slowly gaining control,” harsh lines slashed across his face as he dwelled on Rodney’s decision. “Mr. Steele thought he was ready, and quite obviously, he was not. The defenses keeping the werewol
ves within the separate holding pen are nowhere near as strong as the ones on the warehouse. It is meant to give them slight temptation to try and break the holding spells, but usually no one tries it. If they do, they do not for long because the first few shocks draw them back to their controlled state of mind. Mr. Steele was nowhere near ready for the holding pen. He has been in isolation for the past two days as punishment for his loss of control. The next time we even let him in the separate holding pen, he will remember this,” then the commencement bell rang, and all creases of anxiety erased from his face. “Miss Black, if you will take your seat, it is time to begin class,” he smiled broadly at her and then at the rest of the class before striding forward to address them all with the beginnings of their lesson.
Tristan came in late, briefly nodding at Seph and sitting in the desk behind her. He was in their Gobbledegook class now. He had been missing a lot of late. He was always disappearing, usually talking with Dewdrop in the Room or Dewdrop’s Domain. What was he up to?
They had a test that day, which she was not exactly ready for. She had been in the infirmary and had hardly studied for it. However, he gave the test to her anyways, informing her that she was more than capable to complete this test. She stared at the creamy paper before her, reading the questions a few times before grinning broadly.
Question number one asked, “De-gobbledegook-ookook ook-gob-gobblegobble-ookde ookde-ble-gob-dookble-degook gobde-gobbledegook ookde-gobbledegook-gobdook de-gob-bledeblede-ble?” It was asking how old she was. This test was amazingly easy for her. It asked other such questions such as, “How many siblings do you have?” “What species are you?” She knew she had aced that test. She didn’t even need to glean a single answer from anyone else, not that Sir Sanzio would allow it, if she was so bold as to try.
That day at lunch, the five of them decided to play a little game. They had each played it before with various persons, although nobody quite remembered the name of it. Abernathy brought it up. It was a game where the person states something that they have never done, and those that have done it must raise their hands. Abernathy started it off with an ice-breaker question.
