by Marta Szemik
The air was warmer here than above ground, the dimmer light making it cozy. A small fireplace crackled on the back wall as steam hovered over a simmering pot hanging above the low flames.
“Have a seat, Ekim.” She gestured toward an armchair against the opposite wall. Underneath her long sleeve, Ekim glimpsed a mark of three wavy lines on her wrist identical to Castall’s on her wrist. The pair who greeted Ekim had taken up positions on either side of Hannah. She gestured to them next. “It’s in their nature to be protective. Something that you’re seeking, I gather—protection.”
Ekim bowed, acknowledging Hannah’s wisdom, and waited for her to speak again.
Hannah raised her thick eyebrows and dipped her head to look at him over her glasses. “Protection . . . These are my children, and I will protect them with my life.” She gazed expectantly at Ekim.
“It’s my child I need to protect, as well,” he answered.
Hannah sat on a stool by the fireplace and threw a log into the pit before leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. With a pop, the settling fire spat two embers out on the floor. She picked them up with her bare hand and tossed them back into the growing flames.
“Castall said I could come to you for help. He gave me this to pass along.” Cautious, Ekim lifted his hand toward the top of his long coat. The “kids” watched the movement closely. He pulled a white envelope from the inside breast pocket and handed it to Hannah. The initials H.G. were handwritten on the front, the back sealed with a wax stamp. “It should explain everything.”
Hannah let a smile surface as she carefully opened the letter. The kids continued to glare at Ekim as she read. When she finished reading, she looked up. “Sarah and William are unique, like my children.” She glanced lovingly at them. “The half-breeds can bring salvation to both humankind and vampires. Without them, the demons will win.” Her eyes widened. “They will bring peace and balance to the underworld—but only together. When they learn who they are, they are to overthrow the demon lord. Together, they will be stronger than Aseret and his army.” Her eyelids partially closed when she spoke. Her eyes moved from side to side; she was making a prediction.
Sliding from the stool, Hannah squatted beside a potted plant and scooped a fistful of dirt into her hand. She let it fall through her fingers down to the floor. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, and her head tipped back. “You will be captured, Ekim. Do not fear. They will save you. You will be Sarah’s only hope. Believe in what you feel.” She paused. “Beware of Xela.”
Then her head fell forward, and she looked up at the “kids” with her own eyes. “Your father’s asking you to move to Pinedale immediately. You will be Sarah’s secret guardians throughout her childhood and adolescence. You will be her friends and companions. You will protect her as if she were your blood.” She rose and handed the letter to the girl at her side, who read it.
“Sarah’s only one. How are they going to be her friends?” Ekim pointed hesitantly at the siblings.
The young woman looked up from the letter. “We assume whatever shape we need to be. We will befriend Sarah as children.” Her gaze returned to the paper. “Your daughter has a difficult journey ahead. We will do everything that’s asked of us and nothing less.”
Ekim blinked rapidly, then wiped his eyes. The vampire features were gone from her face and her brother’s. “Thank you,” he said, taken aback by the sudden change.
“Our oath to you, Ekim, is to protect your daughter. She is destined to stop the extinction and bring balance. We will protect her with our lives,” the young man promised, straightening his shoulders.
Ekim believed him. His hope restored, the vampire let out a long held breath.
“Ekim, you are part of the keeper’s plan. Your family is part of their plan as well. You are therefore part of our family. You can expect the utmost faith and loyalty from Mira and Xander.” Hannah pointed to the siblings. “They are stronger than many demons. They are wiser than most. You should stay away from Pinedale. Your scent is too familiar to the seekers. I’m surprised you’ve outrun them this long.”
“Where should I go?” he asked.
The witch seemed to fall back into a trance. “Go back to the vampire territories. Spread the word that half-breeds will save their kind from demons. They should get ready for a battle.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “You should leave now. Take what you need from the forest.”
Ekim wondered if she’d noticed how pale he was.
He pitied anyone who crossed Hannah’s path. She was both a powerful witch and a mother with the fierce instincts of a lioness. A mother he wished Sarah had.
She tucked the letter into a leather-bound book on a side table. A mark identical to the one on Hannah’s wrist was embossed on its cover, surrounded by colourful gems. Ekim smelled the centuries in the paper of its pages.
Unexpectedly, Hannah stepped forward and hugged the vampire, then turned on her heel and walked toward the invisible door. As she approached, the earthen wall cracked, opening to the outside.
“Thank you.” Ekim bowed toward the siblings and Hannah before stepping through the door into the twilight. He had to move quickly to avoid capture but hesitated on the threshold before moving out into the woods and looked back.
Both siblings stared into a wall mirror. Their facial features changed. They ran their fingers across their face where the cheeks grew rosy, pudgy; the skin became smoother, younger, and softer; their noses shrank. The hair thinned and grew silky as eyes became blue, then brown, then green.
They were becoming toddlers.
Chapter 1
The sun had been up for an hour, but to me, it seemed like it had never set.
My stomach grumbled when the sweet smell of pancakes drizzled with warm maple syrup reached me. The hungry rumbles mingling with excitement felt like butterflies flapping their wings against the walls of my stomach. I hopped every second step on my way down to the kitchen. My heart thumped unevenly anticipating my freshman class trip.
“Good morning, Auntie!” I chirped.
Helen looked up at me and laughed. “‘Morning, Sarah. All ready?”
“Yup. Did you sleep well?” I thought to ask.
“I did. And you?”
“Surfed a bit. Filled in another camping list.” I waved the piece of paper, covered with scribbles and red checkmarks. This would be my first—and last—trip away from home.
Helen raised her brows. “Didn’t think it was possible to find another list.” She poured a glass of milk. In the warm kitchen air, drops of condensation formed on the outside of the glass. She pointed to the stack of dripping pancakes. “Breakfast’s ready.”
“Mmm, smells yummy! I bet it tastes even better.” I sat at the round kitchen table and had the first bite in my mouth before Helen reminded me of the inevitable:
“Don’t forget your other breakfast. Wouldn’t want you to lose your colour on the trip.” Helen never forgot what I hoped would disappear when morning came. It never did. It never would. And I couldn’t blame her for what I was.
“I wish I could forget,” I mumbled before filling my mouth. The thought of ending the lives of more guinea pigs disheartened me. I washed my mouthful of pancakes down with milk. “I guess it’s better to do it here than in public.”
“If you do have to fill up, make sure you’re discreet,” she cautioned.
“I won’t have to.” I was almost sure of that. It would take a rapid heartbeat, akin to a human heart attack, for me to run through the extra blood that would soon be flowing through my veins.
“Never say never,” Helen said. It was one of her favourite sayings which I was beginning to use frequently. She leaned over behind my chair and hugged me. “Gonna miss you, hon. Please be careful.”
I almost choked on the last bite I’d taken. “No worries, Auntie. What could possibly happen?” I rolled my eyes and shrugged before jokingly adding, “I’m sure I’ll be the strongest one in the woods.”
Th
oughts of the dangers this graduations trip could present flashed through my mind. I wasn’t afraid for me; I was afraid for those around me. I wanted my peers to go to high school. What if I lost control? What if the suppressed instincts surfaced? What if I hurt someone while trying to hide what I was?
I couldn’t imagine wringing the neck of another human or sticking my fangs into their flesh to feed. Goosebumps covered my arms as I tried to forget the image. Helen had packed four extra serums to control the urge. Would it be enough? Secretly, I wished the serums could somehow be more potent.
“Sometimes things can happen that are beyond our control. I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret later,” Helen said.
“You mean like use my strength or speed.”
“Or teeth,” she teased. “Seriously, Sarah, you’re everything to me. You have your entire life before you, and so much more to accomplish.” She smoothed my hair behind my ears.
“I only want to be normal. I don’t bring anything special to anyone in this town. No one would miss me if I was gone.” I bit my tongue hard as soon as the last sentence slipped out.
“Don’t say that, Sarah.” Helen stroked the top of my head. “You—are—special,” she said firmly. “I hope one day you’ll realize it. Everyone has a purpose, and I’m sure you’ll find yours.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I’d be so lost without you Auntie.” I kissed her on the cheek and squeezed my arms around her. Getting Helen upset today was the last thing I wanted to do. She’d been so patient and understanding—the closest person to a mother I had ever known.
“I know.” She wrapped her arms around me again and returned the kiss on my head. “Now get going before you miss the bus.”
“I guess I’ll just have to chase it.” I laughed as I grabbed my new army backpack full of supplies and headed toward the door, halting on my way out to ask, “Oh! How is the stock doing?”
“Up!” she called, smiling about her ten-year-old investment in an emerging cosmetics company. “Don’t forget the guinea pigs. They’re out by the shed.”
“Thank you!” I called, pulling the door closed.
“Oh, and Sarah! I packed an extra bug repellent in your side pocket.”
Helen’s last words rang in my ears as I took the first step on the warm air redolent of sweat and failed deodorant bus. Extra blood sloshed around inside me as I scanned the seats. Mira and Xander sat in the second row. I smiled, grateful for the two best friends I had in high school. I’d been home schooled until last year. Everyone had treated me like a toddler, ostracizing me in all imaginable ways, laughing constantly at my round-cheeked, childlike face and my small hands. Mira and Xander defended me. For some reason, others kept their distance from the siblings, the same way they now did with me.
We weren’t brave enough (well, perhaps Xander was) to sit in the back with the cool kids. Even so, the catcalls came:
“Sarah, your kindergarten teacher called. They missed you on attendance.”
“Xander doesn’t have to climb the tree. He’s as tall as one!”
“Let’s declare a masquerade every day! Mira can hide her pimples that way!”
And these comments came from the nicer kids.
“Hi, guys!” I said to the siblings, dropping my knapsack in the first row.
Kneeling on the seat, I leaned over the back to face my friends. My limbs were not cooperating today; my arms waved in different directions and my thighs and calves tensed and relaxed periodically, all on their own. I felt like a chimpanzee on cocaine, except my narcotic this morning was adrenaline.
“Hey, Sarah, did you pack your bug spray?” Xander asked. He was like an older brother with occasional slips into father-like behaviour—not that I knew what that was like.
“Two full cans,” I answered.
“Well, I have an extra one if you run out,” he offered, winking at me. Xander was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. The corners of his mouth were always up, showing off his white teeth. If I dropped something, he would pick it up. And the way he glanced at me from across the class all the time, grinning—awkward. Mira said it was a phase boys go through. I hoped it would pass soon, and I would have my friend back.
“What’s going on at the back?” I focused on the last three rows. Although I could hear the electrifying discussion clearly, I still had to pretend to be clueless.
“They’re talking about that bear attack again,” Xander said. “Don’t worry. If he comes back, I’ll protect you.” His smile faded. He wasn’t joking.
“Xander, I’m sure if he comes by, I’ll outrun you so he’ll just have to settle for seconds.”
Mira almost spit out the soda she was sipping. Bubbles formed around her nostrils.
“Ha. Ha,” Xander said, his tone flat. “We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
I glanced over at Mira as if to ask what’s up with him? She shrugged.
“Turn around or you’ll draw attention,” he said, and just in time, too; I heard someone in the back say, “Freak,” under her breath. I couldn’t pinpoint who it was, but it didn’t matter.
“Okay, okay.” I slumped in the hot seat.
The trip to Shoshone National Park took just over two hours. It was a silent ride for the three of us, but a lot louder in the back. I heard everything that was being said, and I wished Mira and Xander had the same ability I had. How much fun would it be to be in on all the jokes? Thankfully, not another word was spoken about us.
* * *
The tents rose in the forest clearing before sunset. Four students were assigned to each one; Mira, Xander, and I were left to have our own. The three of us were like family so no one objected to our shelter being co-ed. Using half the can, I sprayed a solid coat of bug repellent all over my body.
It wasn’t too long before the tall flames of a campfire danced within a circle of logs supporting students as we listened to Mr. Boyle’s “scary” stories. I wondered how frightened my classmates would be if they knew what I was. The few stars in the sky did not provide enough light to find a clear path in the thick woods around us.
I had a harmonious link with nature and heard everything that went on in the forest. Three mice roamed their tunnels twenty yards away; a raccoon fifty yards to the east paused, perhaps contemplating when it would be safe enough to begin his nightly scavenging; a night owl on a frail branch on the third spruce to the right ruffled its feathers in preparation for a hunt. The noises teased my eardrums as nature wrapped itself around me. Finally I gave in, and my ears perked up, intent to hear sounds from the darker depths of the woods. The forest overpowered my mind.
My breathing quickened as I took in scents of the fresh green moss on the north side of the trees; the cool mist that blew from a nearby lake, carrying the scent of water lilies and algae; and in front of me, the over-sweet aroma of almost burnt toasted golden-brown marshmallows. I inhaled deeper, recognizing the sulphur of the Yellowstone geysers spitting steam and hot water. My heartbeat sped up even more. The pulse of nature—of life—pierced my skin, penetrating deep into my organs, giving me strength and vigour I hadn’t thought possible. I absorbed the energy around me to enhance my senses.
The forest inhabitants knew what I was and kept their distance. My mouth watered when I thought about the sleeping elk three miles away. Would its blood thicken when it entered my mouth? My tongue slid across the inside of my upper lip when my gaze focused on someone’s jugular. I swallowed in a dry throat as my eyes rose to the face of someone I’d dared to think of as a victim. The vampire instincts awoke.
Holding my head still, I peeked right, then left. All eyes were still on Mr. Boyle. I slid my right hand into the pocket of my shorts and wrapped my fingers around the familiar shape of the syringe. I’d done it so many times before to suppress my vampire side, no one would notice. I took the shot from the inside of my pocket. The serum spread through my body like cold water, cooling my veins. My breathing slowed, my heart rate steadied, and I heard Mr. Bo
yle concluding his story. Mira frowned at my audible sigh, then turned her attention back toward the fire.
The clouds above flowed to the east, and starlight shone brighter into the clearing. After an hour of jokes, songs, and laughter, and just as I was getting more comfortable in my human skin, Chris decided to be adventurous. “Who’s brave enough to go on a hike?” he asked loudly.
Didn’t he hear about that bear attack last week? It must be a ploy to get some one-on-one time with the girls.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Chris,” said Ms. Wimsley, the other chaperone.
“Yeah, Chris, we all know what you want to do in the dark.” Elizabeth sneered, zipping up her hoodie.
Chris’s snide laugh was tinged with annoyance. “Oh, why don’t you get ready for the next demonstration for women’s rights, Elizabeth.”
As they argued the reason behind Chris’s urge to hike at night, I closed my eyes. A warm autumn breeze caressed my face. I stretched my arms lazily above my head, then froze when something tickled my palm. Tiny, hairy legs danced between my fingers—a spider. The revelation brought an overwhelming fear nearing panic. My inhale identified the arachnid as a tarantula—one immune to the three layers of bug repellent I’d sprayed on in the tent. With a scream, I flicked my hand, launching the monster from my wrist back into the darkness of the forest.
For some reason I lost consciousness, and I was now in a different place and time.
Mira, Xander, and I were in a dark underground cave surrounded by strange creatures with glowing orange eyes. The air was heavy and unmoving. Condensation collected on the rocky walls. I squeezed someone’s warm hand. Our fingers intertwined, our heartbeats became synchronized. We were calm, despite the menacing situation. We were concentrating on—
“Sarah! Sarah!”
“Wake up, Sarah!”
“Is she okay?”
“Are you okay?”
“Sarah, take a deep breath.” I recognized Mira’s calm voice.
I opened my eyes and saw a dozen faces hovering over me. Another dozen voices whispered amongst themselves.
