by Lucy Lyons
“What did you do to her?” Peter shouted at Penelope.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, ignoring his question. “Didn’t you listen to what Ashe told you? She’s disgusted by you. You mean nothing to her.”
“What did you do to her?” Peter demanded.
His sister staggered drunkenly to her feet and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. “I did what you always knew I would do,” she replied.
“I never thought my own sister would turn into such a monster,” Peter growled.
“Who says I ever changed? You’re the one who has changed little brother. You’ve grown docile and weak; the human girl has tamed you. It’s sickening. I’m done bending over backwards like you to hide my true nature. So what are you going to do, kill me?” She nodded at the stake in Peter’s hand. “You’re not going to kill me. If you let go of Ashe’s arm now she’ll bleed out and die. This time it was no love bite that I left her with. She’s not getting out of this one alive.”
Peter could see the rise and fall of Ashe’s chest as she breathed. Each time he was scared the next one wouldn’t come. He slowly lowered the stake and placed it on the coffee table. Penelope smirked. He then reached behind his back and pulled out the gun he’d been carrying. Penelope’s smile froze.
“You wouldn’t,” she muttered.
“I’d do anything for Ashe.”
“I’m your sister.”
“Not anymore.”
“Don’t say that,” Penelope cried. “You can’t possibly be choosing this pathetic human over your own flesh and blood. Just look how weak she is. When she dies you’ll be alone. The clan will punish you for killing me.”
Peter’s hand shook as he cocked the gun. “Help me save her and I’ll let you go. She’s still alive. You can fix this.”
“You’re the one that needs fixing,” Penelope said. “You’ve forgotten what you really are.”
“Ashe never did anything to you. You don’t have to do this,” Peter replied.
Penelope took a step towards the door.
“Please,” Peter shouted.
Penelope turned and Peter squeezed the trigger. The bullet went wide and hit the wall behind Penelope as she disappeared through the doorway. He didn’t have the opportunity for a second shot.
Peter let the gun clatter to the floor as he reeled from the shock of what he had nearly done. Only his nerves had caused him to miss the shot. At least that’s what he told himself. In his century of life he had been in several wars and had never once choked like that, not when it counted. He wanted to believe that this time was different, but a part of him worried that he had missed the shot on purpose. He had chosen to let Penelope go.
Ashe moaned, bringing Peter back to the present. She was still losing too much blood through Peter’s fingers clamped over her arm. Peter pulled his belt from his jeans and looped it around Ashe’s upper arm like a tourniquet. This stopped most of the blood flow long enough for Peter to pull his phone out of his pocket with shaking, bloodstained fingers and call David to come save his daughter’s life.
As he waited for David to arrive, he tried to use his telepathy to communicate with Ashe. He wanted to reassure her that everything was okay, even though he wasn’t sure that it was. Her pulse was barely perceptible and the heartbeat in her chest was the vaguest of whispers.
Don’t die, Peter thought. Please Ashe don’t die. I’d be nothing without you. I promised you a lifetime together. You can’t leave me now.
Peter thought of one way that Ashe would be able to stay with him longer, in fact eternity. A few drops of Peter’s blood and Ashe would become immortal. At first Peter felt guilty for even entertaining the thought, but the weaker Ashe’s heartbeat became, the more desperate he was. He couldn’t bear to lose her.
“Ashe,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
He needed to know that she understood what he was going to do for her.
Ashe, he said to her in his mind. I need you to talk to me. You’re dying, but there’s a way to save you.
He couldn’t tell if she had heard him.
I need to turn you. It’s the only way. David’s on his way, but he won’t be here in time. It’s the only way we can be together.
Still there was no reply; Ashe was on the cusp of being lost forever. Peter tried to stretch out the seconds waiting for either a response from Ashe or for David to come bursting through the door. When neither happened, Peter was forced to make an impossible decision. He tried to think of what Ashe herself would have decided if faced with the choice between her life and her humanity. He knew that what she had said to him on the phone earlier had been lies forced upon her by Penelope’s torture, but could there have been a kernel of truth hidden somewhere in her words? Maybe Ashe really was frightened by him, not that he would hurt her, but by the world he belonged to and the shadows lurking there. Maybe his appetite for blood did disgust her. What would it do to her to force her into such a life without giving her the choice?
He feared that Ashe would hate him for turning her, but at least she wouldn’t be dead. Peter would teach her how to live as a vampire, how to control the urges and continue as normal a life as she could until she aged a couple hundred years and the sun became too harsh for her to endure. He would take all of her hatred for him and absorb it so that it wouldn’t eat her up inside, then give it back to her as love. He could be strong enough for the both of them. He knew he could.
With a sense of urgency, Peter shattered the jar on the table. It released the thick scent of Ashe’s blood— even stronger than what was coming from the bite wound on her arm. He picked out one of the larger shards and poised it over his forearm. Once he did it, there was no turning back. For better or worse, Ashe would be one of his kind.
The screeching of tires outside stayed his hand. Peter set the shard of glass down shakily. David came in the door moments later carrying a large black duffel bag and looking like he was bracing himself for battle. Peter had been so close to doing the irreversible. He didn’t know if he could have lived with himself had he actually gone through with it.
“Help me with this,” David said.
Peter didn't miss a beat. He unzipped the bag and started handing equipment to David to give Ashe a blood transfusion. The first time Penelope had fed on Ashe, she had only drained enough blood to make Ashe weak. This time Penelope had meant to kill her.
David slid the needle into Ashe’s uninjured arm.
“I’m going to need to stitch up the bite. She’s unconscious for now, but I don’t have any anesthetic and I can’t be sure she won’t wake up from the pain.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll hold her down.”
“Thanks.”
As soon as David plunged the needle into Ashe’s skin, her eyes fluttered open and she moaned.
“It’s okay,” Peter said, holding her arm steady with one hand and smoothing down her hair with the other.
David paused, giving Ashe some time to orient herself.
“Your dad needs to close the wound on your arm so you don’t lose any more blood.”
Peter could tell that Ashe was afraid, but she didn’t try to protest. “Stay with me,” she muttered.
“I’m right here,” Peter replied.
David set to work again and Ashe gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Peter wiped the tears that fell from the corners of her eyes. “You’re almost done,” he said, glancing down at the progress David was making. Peter could see the grim lines of determination on the man’s face. He was managing to keep his hand steady though Peter could tell that every stitch hurt him just as much as it did his daughter. The wound was a lot worse than Peter had imagined. Penelope must have really wanted to hurt her.
“All done,” David said as he tied the end of the string holding the needle. Ashe let out a shivering breath.
“You did great,” Peter said.
“Yeah,” David agreed. “Turns out my little girl is a lot tougher than I thought. Guess your mom
did fine raising you without me.” He laughed self-consciously in the awkward silence that followed, and then got up to go wash the blood from his hands.
The color was still missing from Ashe’s cheeks, but she had managed to stay conscious through the stitches. Her pupils were no longer dilated either. A pint or two of blood and she would be all right, Peter thought. It had been close though, too close.
Ashe mumbled something that Peter didn’t catch.
What? Peter asked in his head.
I think everything’s going to be okay now, Ashe replied before falling into a deep sleep.
Ashe awoke to the sound of Peter talking on the phone. The inside of her left arm felt like it was on fire and her head ached terribly. She had no way of telling how long she’d been asleep, but it was dark outside and she had been moved to a real bed. It wasn’t hers though; it must have been Peter’s.
“Tell Mark he can come pick up the car any time he wants,” Peter said as he paced the hallway outside the bedroom with the phone against his ear.
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have helped you guys out... no, she’ll be okay.”
Peter glanced in at Ashe from the doorway and noticed she was up. He smiled.
“I have to go, but I’ll call you again. Yeah, let me know if you hear anything about the woman’s husband.”
He went over to her bedside.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Ashe replied. She sat up a little. “How long have I been asleep?”
“For the best part of two days,” Peter replied. Though he smiled at her, his eyes betrayed worry.
The last memories before Ashe’s long sleep started coming back to her and with them, a feeling of unease. “Where were you?” she asked him.
Peter frowned slightly. “I’ve been at the house this whole time. I haven’t left once since you fell asleep two nights ago.”
“No, I mean when I needed you. Where were you during the snowstorm when Penelope had me?” She could sense that Peter was ducking the answer on purpose and she didn't like it one bit.
Peter glanced away from her. “I didn’t know she was going to do something like that. I thought I was protecting you.”
“Where were you?” Ashe insisted.
Peter sat down at the edge of the bed and reached his hand out toward her, but Ashe crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring his gesture. She wasn’t going to let him anywhere near her until he told her the truth.
“Some other vampires and I tracked Landon’s family to a place outside of town,” Peter said. “During the blizzard I went there to get rid of Landon once and for all. It was our only chance to catch them off-guard and I couldn't stand the idea of Landon coming back here to hurt you. I had to do something. The man I was talking to on the phone when you woke up was one of the vampires who helped. Landon’s dead, along with his father and two brothers. They managed to save three of the people being kept by the clan. We lost one of ours, though. His name was Mark and he was a good man. ”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ashe asked. She couldn’t believe he had kept this from her all semester. They had agreed that Landon wasn’t their problem anymore.
“I was trying to keep you safe,” Peter said. “At least I thought I was, but I was just being stupid. I knew you wouldn’t want me chasing after Landon.”
“But you did it anyway.”
Peter had no response. Ashe wondered how many other secrets he had been keeping from her.
Tears pooled her eyes as the bitter feeling of betrayal settled in her chest. “You said you’d never leave me, but you did. You’re no better than my father.”
“But your father came back; I came back too. I saved you.” Peter’s eyes held Ashe’s in their strong gaze. Ashe found her anger flagging.
“That’s not the point,” she mumbled, toying with the bandages on her arm. “If you make a promise to me you need to keep it.”
Peter leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. The familiar feeling of his embrace made Ashe start to sob. She buried her face in the front of his sweater as the tears flowed freely.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” Ashe cried. “I thought you would hate me for everything Penelope forced me to say and I would die knowing that I broke your heart.”
Peter held her tighter.
In the darkness of Peter’s embrace, Ashe felt safe enough to put words to something that had been bugging her ever since she had fallen into her dreamless sleep days before.
“You said something to me in my head when I was dying. You said something about saving me. I can’t remember what you told me, but I remember feeling scared. Whatever it was, I wasn’t ready for it.”
“I was probably talking about your arm,” Peter said, letting his arms fall from her body. “You needed stitches to stop the blood, but we didn’t have anything to stop the pain.”
Ashe tried to decipher the look he was giving her, but she couldn’t. Something in the back of her mind still bothered her.
“You haven’t told me what happened to you during the blizzard,” Peter said, turning Ashe’s mind away from its troubled thoughts.
“I waited at the student center for you as long as I could, but you never came. When Landon told me about Professor Sharp being a vampire, I thought it was the professor who had gotten to you, not...” his voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to utter his sister’s name.
Ashe replied, “I went to Professor Sharp’s office after class, not knowing what he was. He tried to hurt me, but I ran when I realized what was happening. Professor Wheatley helped me escape the school and drove me to your house.”
“Professor Wheatley— the one who was always giving you a hard time in his class?”
“Yeah,” Ashe replied, thinking almost fondly of the days when his pop quizzes had been her biggest worry. “He had suspected that Sharp was a vampire for some time. He knew how to use herbs to hide my scent while we escaped. I think he knows a lot about vampires, even though he’s not one himself.”
Peter’s expression suddenly went dark.
“What is it?” Ashe asked.
“You didn’t tell him you knew about vampires before this, did you?”
“He guessed it on his own while we were escaping.”
“Did you tell him what I was?” The sternness of his tone scared her.
“No,” she replied. “I didn’t tell him anything.”
“But he drove you to my house.”
“I didn’t tell him you’re a vampire. I just said you were a friend. Why are you so worried anyway? He helped me.”
The anger fled from Peter’s eyes and he calmed somewhat. “I’m sorry. It’s just that there are people who make it their business to track down vampires and get rid of them. I was only worried he was one of them.”
“Like the men who helped you deal with Landon,” Ashe said.
Peter shook his head. “That’s different. Mark and the others are vampires. They only go after the worst of our kind, the ones that present a danger not only to humans, but to themselves as well. They go after the kinds of vampires that give us our bad name, the ones that spur humans to fear us and hunt us regardless of how we get our blood. Human hunters don’t see us in shades of grey. They see us as monsters. To someone like that, I’m no different from Landon or Professor Sharp; I deserve death just as much as they do.”
“That’s horrible,” Ashe said, then asked suddenly, “How long have you been able to do that telepathy thing?” She was desperate to change the subject.
Peter looked confused. “What?”
This, Ashe replied.
Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. When I heard you calling for help it was the first time I’d ever heard anyone’s thoughts. At least, the first time I knew for sure. I think I’ve been catching your brainwaves for a while now but I’d always thought it was in my head. Finding out it was real surprised me as much as it surprised you.”
“Does that mean you know what I’m thinking all the time?” Ashe asked. If he could read minds that would definitely put a damper on their relationship. He would win arguments before they even started and she could forget about surprise birthday gifts.
“No,” Peter replied.
Ashe gave him a look.
He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I swear.”
You’re such an idiot, she thought, without trying to be heard. She wanted to see if he was really telling the truth. His face betrayed no reaction.
“What am I thinking now?” Ashe asked.
“I already told you it doesn’t work like that.”
Ashe bit her lip. “Oh, come on. I’m sure you have some idea.”
Peter leaned towards her. “Maybe I’ve got an inkling.” He pushed her backwards until her head was resting on the pillows behind her and kissed her hard. Ashe savored the moment, knowing just how close she had come to never being able to kiss Peter again. His fingers ran through her auburn hair and Ashe wondered with a thrill how they would feel on other parts of her body before remembering his telepathy and banishing the thought from her head.
Even if Peter could read her mind, Ashe was glad for his gift. They could have whole conversations together without anyone overhearing. It added a depth of intimacy to their relationship that excited Ashe. No matter where she was, she could be sure that Peter was only a thought away. What had happened to her during the blizzard would never happen again.
Ashe’s phone buzzed and Peter moved out of her way so she could get it. She reached over to the nightstand with a wince to pick it up. There was a new email from Professor Wheatley.
The message was extremely brief but unmistakably in Professor Wheatley’s own words:
I’ve dealt with Sharp; you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Now go out and live it.
P.S. Don’t give into the dark no matter how tempting it may seem.
For some reason, the professor’s cryptic last words brought to mind the important message Peter had been trying to tell her in her dying moments. She wished she could remember exactly what he had said.
