by Rook, Rowan
“Just…don’t disappear like that again, okay?” She wore an irritated mask, but her voice shivered. “Stay here, with me.”
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She didn’t resist, letting her head rest on his chest. Her fingernails dug into the cotton covering his back. She sobbed, her wet cheeks dampening his white t-shirt. He let his eyelids droop and stared at nothing but strands of her blond hair. “…I will.”
Something felt wrong. The words were heavy on his tongue. They tasted like a lie, leaving that same bitter aftertaste in the back of his throat, and felt removed from his lips like sounds spoken in sleep.
But this time he didn’t cry. This time he felt nothing. He was empty. He listened to the ticking clock. Time refused to stop. If only he could make it stop, if just for a short while. But it didn’t, it just kept dragging them along towards whatever conclusion was waiting for them. He couldn’t help but believe the ending wasn’t going to be a good one, but it was coming, stepping closer and closer with every tick and every tock.
Merril pulled away, just enough to let her eyes find his. “We’ll be okay, right? As long as we stay together, then we’ll be okay.”
Tick tock tick tock. Another minute passed by, occupied by nothing but silence.
She reached up and pressed her lips against his.
His body stiffened and shivered, before he leaned down and let himself relax into her embrace.
He felt a peculiar kind of warmth that he hadn’t in a long time, almost able to believe that he was alive again if only his heart had beat alongside hers. Her rhythm pulsed beside the place where his should’ve been, but she didn’t notice the absence. She pulled him closer.
The relationship between them was a strange one. They'd been partners – intimate partners – for a long time now, but it was an odd, relaxed sort of partnership. It oftentimes shifted and changed by the day. Some days they were something like siblings. Some days they were simple childhood friends. Some days they really were lovers.
They were always there to fulfill the role the other most needed. It was odd – they both knew it was odd – but neither of them cared.
They were simply Mason and Merril, just as they’d always been, and, at one point, had believed they always would be. He wasn’t sure he believed that anymore.
He tried not to let the uncertainty reach his face as she pulled back, a sweet aftertaste tingling on his pale lips. She smiled. “Even if it’s just us against the world, like always.”
Them against the world… Sometimes it felt more like they weren’t a part of that world at all. They were just observers, outsiders, watching from a lonely world of their own that belonged to no one but the two of them.
He smiled even as a strange sadness gnawed away the warmth, looking for the right words to say, when a shrill bark broke the reverie.
They jumped, their gazes whirling. Molly howled and scratched at the front door. They watched wordlessly, tense as the knob twisted and the door pressed against the barricade.
“…Martin?” Merril’s voice cut through Molly’s howling.
Mason winced, tightening his grip on her shoulders and gesturing for silence. She stiffened with a sharp breath, realizing her mistake.
There was no answer. The person at the door wasn’t Martin. Heavy footsteps plodded around to the nearest window. Molly snarled with teeth bared and ears back. Mason’s ribs curled in his chest – he’d seen something like this exactly once before.
Merril pulled away from him and snatched the fire iron. Her thin knuckles turned white, a ferocity he’d never seen before hardening her frail features. Fear and love were alike in that they did strange things to people.
He just stood and listened as the footsteps continued to the next window, checking them one by one. Everything was playing out just as it had the night he’d lost his human life. He needed to do something, anything, but he couldn’t move.
He managed a shaky glance around - he needed to grab a weapon, himself - when the sound of shattering glass crashed into the rear of his skull.
He whirled, reacting on instinct at the image of his bedroom window spraying glass on the carpet. He was just in time to see the chair in front of the window topple down, right on top of Molly. The dog crumpled beneath it with a final whimper before a figure leapt over it and through the broken frame.
It was a woman who appeared just a few years older than he was, with a man following soon after. Two vampires. He didn’t know either, but he’d seen them at the prison. They both belonged to Alex.
Fear was a strange beast. It would rise and rise and rise, then bubble over and melt away when its source was revealed as nothing more than paranoia or the bedroom light casting shadows in the corner. When its scenario turned out to be real, it became a different animal altogether. The climax changed. It was cold, stabbing him in the stomach and sending ice through his veins. It canceled every other emotion, almost like a drug. It could turn people into animals, too – creatures that existed as nothing but the will to survive and protect.
Perhaps that was why Merril charged the woman with the fire poker outstretched.
How well someone could process the ice and keep their head, how well they could channel it, changed from person to person. Mason had to swallow a thick burst of air before he could force his body to function.
He leapt just as the vampire dodged Merril’s strike and spun behind her. It tensed its muscles, preparing to pounce for the back of her throat. One bite and it was all over.
He crashed into it from the side, pouring all the strength he had into knocking it down. One strong blow was all he needed.
This time, it was enough. The attacker fell over her ankles and hit the floor. He was about to leap down after her when fingers dug into his hair and yanked him back. He yelped, kicking at the carpet.
It was the other man. He leaned in closer, a smile curling his lips and revealing his fangs. “Oh? Look who it is...”
Mason shook his head, willing the vampire not to finish.
“Stop!” Merril didn’t give him the chance. She spun and thrust the iron towards his chest. It hit, the metal tip ripping cold flesh.
His fingers shuddered and released Mason’s hair with a screech, but he managed to stay on his feet. No blood, no possibility of death from a wound near the ribs. His muscles stiffened and prepared to bridge the distance between him and Merril’s neck.
Mason turned to stop him, but Merril moved first. She leaned back, letting the vampire get closer. She thrust the iron out in front of its gaping mouth just as it was about to reach her throat.
It was too late for it to stop. Its jaw met the sharp tip instead of her veins. Metal ripped through it and out the back of its neck. The thing seized, falling to the floor as she yanked the weapon out with wide eyes.
Mason expected her to shriek and run, but that wasn’t what happened. Merril raised the fire poker and slammed it full force into the vampire’s skull. Bone broke with a sick shatter. It stopped moving.
Mason’s jaw fell open.
He was dead. She’d killed him.
“Monster!” The woman behind him screamed. “Traitor!” Her eyes settled on Mason, not Merril. “Alex will have your head for this!” Her voice bristled with rage, but she threw herself at the window and fled, limbs shaking. He’d expected a go at revenge, but perhaps the shivering was as much in fear as it was in anger.
He dragged his eyes from the glass and found Merril. She simply stood, staring down at the body on the floor. The iron trembled in her white knuckles, still stuck in the vampire’s ruined head. Her eyes were wide, distant, as if she didn’t really see what she was looking at.
He watched for a while, not saying anything. If nothing else, at least he could be thankful that she clearly hadn’t heard the intruder’s words. She was somewhere else.
He reached out and gently took the poker from her quivering fingers, letting it fall to the floor. He put his hands on her shoulders. “We have to go.”
&nb
sp; They couldn’t stay there and wait for Martin anymore. Their home was no longer safe. He swallowed hard while the threat replayed in his head.
“We need to get out of here. We need to find somewhere safe.” He didn’t let go until she shuddered and looked up at him with wild green eyes. She stared right at him, but he wasn’t sure she saw him at all. Finally, she answered with an uneven nod.
He hurried to the kitchen and snatched some food from the cupboards – he wouldn’t need it, but she would – and to the closet to take their thickest coats.
She ambled a drowsy step towards him. “W-where are…where are we going?” She managed, her voice tight and quiet.
He paused. That was a good question. Could he take her to the prison? She’d just killed one of their own, but he’d been a follower of Alex, and Dale himself had said to stop them by any means necessary. There would be a whole host of other problems, though. He exhaled a bitter snort. It would take a miracle to convince her that the safest place was among the creatures she most feared, and then he’d surely have to explain his own connection… No. That wasn’t a possibility.
Could they flee to another town? Certainly not Rocher, but there were plenty of other cities nearby. Perhaps they could even cross the border and escape to Canada.
…Things couldn’t be like this everywhere.
There was a pang at the thought of leaving Sorrel and the others behind, but maybe getting out of there was for the best. If they just kept running, they’d eventually find somewhere peaceful...wouldn’t they? “Somewhere far away from here.”
“She’s hurt…”
He blinked, looking for the companion he hadn’t realized had wandered off. Merril knelt over Molly’s heaving shape and shoved away the chair that’d crumbled on top of her. It wasn’t terribly heavy, but the force seemed to have done some damage. The dog whimpered, tail twitching against the carpet.
A frown shadowed his features. “We’ll have to leave her. But they don’t have any interest in animals, so she and the cat should be fine.” He returned to the kitchen, refilled the bowls to the brim, and grabbed some food and water for the injured dog.
He leaned over Molly and patted her gold-furred head. She exhaled another whimper. It was difficult to say just how badly she was hurt, but there was nothing they could do about it. They’d have to leave the animals behind for the time being and hope for the best.
...He was abandoning his dog. His home. His normal life really was over, wasn't it?
He looked away, just about to head for the door, but hesitated. He ran back to the kitchen one last time and left a note on the counter: Martin, we couldn’t stay here anymore. Call me.
Heh. The body on the living room floor would tell the story well enough.
He snatched a knife while he was at it, and then wrapped an arm around Merril’s. She didn’t resist, following him to the door with her eyes on the floor. She took the fire iron, but neither of them said anything more. They tore away the barricade to escape the safe house that’d changed into a death trap.
Mason stopped just once, stealing a last glance at the peeling old walls and stringy maroon carpet. A picture of his mother sat on the mantle.
They would be able to come home eventually, wouldn’t they?
****
Mason ran. And ran. He slowed just enough to make sure the human's legs kept up, gripping her sweaty palm in his. Everything faded away but the pulse of their feet pounding the concrete. Terror owned his body as much as he did, driving it forward. They had to get out of there. Now.
Sure, he hadn’t seen anyone, but he could feel them. His senses prickled, lurched, swam. They were there, watching him make for the city limits. Screams and shouts whirred by as they blazed the sidewalk. They were still there, somewhere.
A woman leapt from behind an abandoned car, jaw wide open for the human’s throat. Mason’s tense muscles reacted quickly, his hands shoving Merril to safety before his mind could catch up with his body. She tumbled to her ass with a startled yelp, well out of reach of the vampire’s fangs. He lunged protectively in front of her, eyes narrow and teeth bared like a dog defending its master.
The attacker came down on empty pavement and straightened with a snort. She shot him a brown-eyed smirk.
Alex.
He gritted his teeth. He’d expected to see Alex’s followers on the way out, but the faux leader herself? Another familiar female lingered behind her – the woman who’d threatened to report him. Apparently, she’d kept her word.
Merril scrambled to her feet, fire iron shaking in her hands. Her wild eyes belonged to a cornered animal, not the girl he'd grown up with. They were the eyes of a creature ready to bite the next unfortunate hand to reach out. To fight for its life against a predator it couldn't possibly defeat.
Alex’s lips curled up and wrinkled her freckled cheeks. “Well this is cute, isn't it? Where could you two lovebirds have possibly thought you were going?”
Mason stuck out his chin, fighting to keep the fear off his face. “Where we’re going is none of your business. I won’t cause problems for the prison anymore.”
She tilted her head. “Oh? It’s not just the prison I’m worried about. You’ve already demonstrated your innate, utter inability to keep a secret. Who’s to say you won’t set people up in arms against our kind wherever you go? Besides, we can’t just let a traitor walk free now, can we?”
Hair bristled on the back of his neck, tingling with anxiety as much as anger. “I’m no traitor! I'm not the one fucking everything up! It's you!” He shouted, louder than he'd meant to. He glanced back at Merril, praying she hadn’t realized what Alex was implying. “I’m not –”
“You protect a human who’s killed one of our own. You choose her instead of us.” Alex leaned closer, breath the scent of blood and mint. “I don't know – I'd say traitor is spot on the mark!”
Alex's words drove a knife into his chest and each one deepened the wound. Each one dragged the truth out further into the light. Each one wiped clean the secret he'd desperately tried to bury from prying eyes. From precious eyes. From green eyes on a pale face framed with blonde.
She was going to notice. She was going to piece it together. No matter how distracted Merril was, if Alex didn't shut up...
Shit.
He whirled, scanning the sidewalk. It wasn’t just the two women. Three other vamps hovered nearby, ready to lunge. His legs ached with the urge to run but weren’t allowed an escape. If he fled, they’d strike.
This…was not good at all. They were completely outnumbered, and it was abundantly clear that Alex wasn’t going to let them go.
Alex... Even if he submitted to her, it was likely that Merril…
“If you want to live your second life, then come with me. The girl won’t last much longer – none of the dying hunks of meat in this city will! We’re doing them a favor – we're giving them the chance to rise with us. We’re sending a message they need to hear.” Alex smiled. Not a sneer, but something more genuine. Somehow, that made it all the more frightening.
"Killing is killing." Mason growled through clenched teeth. "I'd hardly call murder a favor. You'd kill them all for a measly 1% chance? That isn't salvation. That isn't even hunting. That's slaughter."
“Even if we spare them the pain of slowly succumbing to illness? Of shitting themselves and losing control of their bodies while they're still alive? Even if we save just a few people who would have died a final death?" Alex stepped closer, devouring the space left between them. "Do you know what the first thing I did after turning was? I snuck into my family’s home and fed on each of them – my mother, my father, my little brother. They didn't join me like I'd wanted, but at least they didn't suffer. At least I took them quickly. I stole them from the plague.”
She'd killed them...? Her own family? He imagined it before he could stop himself –sinking his teeth into Merril's or Martin's throat, slitting their necks or drinking from their wrists – and shuddered down a gag.
His eyes hardened on Alex. He shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow, a part of him still was. She really was one fucked up bitch.
“Oh come now, don’t look at me like that when you chose to kill for yourself. Just for yourself. Without even the smallest trace of noble intentions. Without even the smallest regard for the rest of us. For nothing but your own survival. I'd say you're the selfish one, here.” She smiled. This time it was a sneer. “Drain the girl to prove your loyalty, and we’ll let you come back to us.”
Merril threw herself away from him with such force she nearly knocked him back.
“Merril!” He reached out on instinct, fingers wrapping around her wrist.
She screamed. “Let go!”
Her eyes met his, wide with horror, and he knew. In that instant, he knew. His secret wasn't a secret anymore. Its remains laid exposed all over the floor, beside the shards of his hope that things could remain the same.
She didn't see him anymore. She saw a monster.
He felt his fingernails dig into her arm, so tightly that the skin beneath them turned blue. He was strong now. He didn’t have to let her go. He suddenly didn’t want to.
“I’m not…” He tried, voice dying in his dry throat. “I’m…”
Not the same monster as Alex. He was a monster, sure, but whether it beat or not, he wouldn’t forget his human heart. His body was no longer human, but he still was. He was still the same. Still the Mason she knew.
He wanted to say those things, but somehow, he couldn’t. He just dug in tighter, traces of blood welling beneath his fingers.
…Was it that he didn’t quite believe them?
She just kept screeching, fighting, struggling. Like an animal in a snare. Time stretched on, blurring between her wails. Why…was she so afraid?
Alex heaved a disappointed sigh and gestured to her nearest follower. “You, shut her up for our traitor here.”
The man nodded, padding up to the two of them as casually as if he’d wanted to shake their hands.
