“What do you mean?”
“You see us as civilized, but that’s not our true nature. We’re animals to our core.”
He grabs my hand. “You’re not a monster.”
I hold his stare. “Every time you touch me, I fight the urge to hurt you. Animals do not like to be tethered. The tribe that attacked us wanted to be able to live as they have for centuries, taking what food source pleases them. Humans, people, are our meal of choice.”
Releasing my hands, he takes a step back. His face contorts as he processes what I’ve said. “You think I would be delicious?”
“Yes. But I was trained from a young age to think of humans as equals, not a food source. To stop breathing when they were near, look everywhere but the vein on your neck. All of us in this tribe live that way. We have to if our race is to survive.”
“Why is human blood different from other animals?”
I look beyond him to the woods. “Does it matter why? Just as the squirrel has a favorite mushroom or the fox prefers rabbit, humans remain the first choice of our race. Your blood strengthens us like no other.”
Emmett bends over and picks up a stick from the sand. He tosses it in the surf. Spinning to face me, he grabs my shoulders. “Put me out of my misery, make me like you.”
Pushing his chest, I break his grip, and he stumbles back. “I told you. Don’t you see babies being born as vampires? We can’t make you like us. I told you that in the beginning.”
“All the stories about the demons of the night, there has to be some truth in them.”
I shake my head. “Humans didn’t want to believe their loved ones were gone forever. It was easier for them to think they’d become monsters than died at the hands of them. Even if you could be like me, you wouldn’t want it. To live in fear of exposure, being on the run for centuries.”
He kicks at a wave as it crests on the beach.
“What say you now?” I ask after a few minutes.
His chin drops, and then he lifts his eyes to meet mine. “You become more beautiful with everything I learn about you. I would be honored to be your husband. I will leave you to ponder the decision, Queen.”
Bowing before me, he turns and walks away. I lean over and pick up a rock. My mind craves release from the strain of the day, and my muscles ache with tension. I fling the stone as hard as I can, watching it sail above the water until it loses height. Emmett has forced my hand. If I refuse, relations with his family will be strained. My friendship with him, however tenuous it has been, would cease. He’s correct on many points, and this angers me further. I know many eyes must be watching, and I start to walk south.
Will’s scent drifts to me, and I sense him just beyond the tree line. I know he will keep his distance until I call him. I study the grains of sand beneath my feet, the waves as they lap upon the shore, the birds floating on the wind, the blue sky above, trying to cool my rage.
“Will.” I face the forest.
He emerges from the trees and jogs to me. “Didn’t take you long.”
“I want this to be done with. Do I need more information? Should we poll the group?”
“While you were with Emmett, Gregor and I spoke with a number of our tribe. They are content here and would like to stay.”
“Then I should marry Emmett?”
“I will not suggest that choice. You have to make it.”
“If there were another way, he has made it almost impossible for me to discover it. If I say no, I’ll likely isolate us further.”
“You’re angry with him?”
“Yes, aren’t you? I made it clear to him many times that I was not interested in a marriage to him.”
“I can see both sides. He’s also craftier than I gave him credit for.”
“Damn him.” I kick at the sand, sending a bunch into the air. The wind pushes it into my face. “Damn him.”
“Does that mean you’re saying yes?”
“Yes, tomorrow we should go to the Schmidts. Leave me for now. I’m taking a swim.”
Unlike before, the sound of the surf and the sea salt beating on my skin grates my nerves, and I race to the cool pond to rinse off. My heart races and mind burns with anger, and I fear it will never abate. I long to be in Elizabeth’s arms, warm and safe like when I was little.
Returning to my room, I stare into the empty hearth. It should be Alec, my mind screams, and the tears start to fall. Hearing a rap on my door, I blot my cheeks. Jacob stands in the hall, and I pull him into my room, wrapping my arms around his chest. “You came.”
“Will sent for me. He didn’t think anyone else could console you.”
“I wish Mambi were here,” I whisper into his ear.
“I would like her to be here for you too. But I’m here.” He gathers my hair in his hands and smooths it down my back. “You won’t be sad forever.”
“Sometimes I feel his loss like it happened yesterday.” I sob into his shoulder.
“You’re not helping me feel any better about my future.”
I pull away from him. “Forgive me. How have you been?”
“Look at this.” He flexes his bicep.
Placing my fingers on his arm, I find they don’t reach halfway around. “What are you eating?”
“Deer mostly, some bobcat and fox.”
“I should join you as sentinel.”
“Who would stay behind to marry the humans?” He pokes me in the ribs and chuckles.
I slump into my chair. “What have I done?”
“What any good queen would do. I’m proud of you.”
“It may only last twenty years.”
“Or half a century with our blood in his system. We’ll get tired of living here by then.” Jacob jumps and lands on my bed.
“Hey.” I swat at him. “Not with your traveling shoes on.”
“Look at you all queenly and dainty. What? Can’t get dirty now?”
“I’ll show you dirty!” I snatch the pillow from behind his head and rip it open, sending feathers everywhere. Dipping my hand in the heating pot, I fling water on him and smash a handful of goose down onto his skin.
“Now, it’s war!” He grabs another pillow and lands a blow on my head.
We jump around the room, dodging each other’s attempts at landing hits. The chair topples, and I jump on the bed. Jacob joins me, and it gives under the pressure, crashing to the floor.
The door swings open, and Will runs in. “What’s going on?”
“A pillow fight.” I bounce on the mattress and throw him a pillow.
Jacob holds up another. “How many of these do you have?”
“I’m a Queen”—I twirl around—“a delicate flower that needs her soft pillows.”
“Plus, you’re a spoiled brat.” Will grabs me by the middle and swirls in a circle.
“The room is spinning,” I laugh.
“Everything is spinning.” Jacob skips around us.
“What’s going on?” Gregor asks from the hall.
Will releases me, and I freeze realizing we have an audience. “It’s a pillow fight.” I launch a torn pillow at him.
Gregor catches the cushion. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, but we should.” I point at him. “Gather everyone and start the music.”
One brings a fiddle and starts a jig in the main hall. Bottles of wine arrive in crates from the cool house. Jacob grabs me, and we skip around the room to the rhythm of the music. I raise a bottle to my lips and pass it to him. As he releases me, Will grabs my hand, and we continue the dance.
Jacob jumps to the tabletop. “To My Queen!” A cheer goes up, and I lift my bottle and take another swig.
Over the next week and a half, we buy fabric of blue and white satin and my dress—with a square low neck-line fitted to my waist, and three-quarter sleeves that fan out over my wrists—is assembled. There are fittings and alterations, tastings, cleaning, and decorating, as we ready the barn for the ceremony and main hall for a reception following. My on
ly solace lies in that my marriage to Alec would have been different. Although we’d planned a public ceremony and party at Henry’s school, Elizabeth and Faye were to witness our handfasting ceremony in the woods the night before.
“Do you miss your mother?” Mary asks as she fits a pin on my hem the day before the wedding.
“I do. I’ve written to her of my marriage. I hope to hear back soon.” I draw in a breath, holding back my tears, thinking of my mother and Elizabeth, Faye, Alec, and the life I’ll never have.
“This is a special time for a woman. If you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you.” She holds my gaze.
I push blood to my cheeks to appear to be blushing. “My mother spoke to me of such things before we left, perhaps anticipating this scenario.”
“Good.” She smooths my skirt and steps back, admiring her handiwork.
The day of the wedding, I rise early and perform my chores, take a swim in the ocean, and arrive back at the house midday. Maria and Sarita have drawn a warm bath, and braid my hair, winding it atop my head.
It is mid-July, and the day is warm. We open both ends of the barn, so a breeze passes through. Emmett and I stand in front of twenty of our tribe members, the settlers, and his parents. The Pastor officiates the service, asking for God’s blessing on the marriage, reading vows for us to recite, asking us to exchange rings, and introducing us as man and wife. I smile at the right times and blush as Emmett kisses me.
“You haven’t eaten all day,” Will whispers behind me as he follows Emmett and me through the crowd.
“I will when we’re done.” I force a smile as we greet the next guest.
At sunset, Emmett and I wave goodbye to his parents. He runs a hand down my back, and I fight the urge to throw him from the porch.
“I need rest.” I enter the front hall and pull a handful of candles from the desk drawer. “I got these for you.”
“Thank you for thinking of me.” His eyes pan to the ceiling. “It’ll be odd to be in a new place.”
“I hope you can sleep well. We’re night creatures, and many of us move about during the dark.”
“I work hard, so I never have problems sleeping.”
“Good.” I ascend the stairs, and he follows. In front of my door, I spin to face him. “Good night.”
“This was a good day. Thank you.”
“Perhaps you should wait to judge whether this arrangement is a blessing or a curse.”
“You’ve always been fair to me.”
“And I will remain so.” I enter my room and shut the door. I can hear him breathing in the hall and wait for him to enter the room beside mine. For as much as I want him as far away as possible, the other half of me feels the need to protect him. Elizabeth did this, I remind myself. She grew to love Henry, perhaps you could do the same with Emmett.
July 1622 –South Carolina coast
A year passes, and our plantation tribe is content. There are three additional births within the group, the witch community to the north shows no signs of aggression, and the vampire tribes keep to themselves as more settlers pour in from Europe.
It’s a hot afternoon, and I’ve just come from the swimming pond. I hear a carriage on the lane and sniff the air. Mary. Eugene. And the scent of a being I don’t recognize. Mary’s presence has become commonplace, but unless there is business to attend, Eugene only comes for our Saturday evening meal. The signal of bird calls spreads through the compound, and I race to my quarters to change and meet Emmett on the porch.
“Swimming?” he asks.
“Yes, did you expect your parents today? They also have another being with them, I don’t recognize the scent.”
“What do you mean? Like an animal?”
“I don’t know.”
When they round the bend, I see Mary cradling a bundle, and my breath catches in my lungs. “They haven’t!”
“What, what is it?” Emmett’s eyes shift from me to his parents.
I follow Emmett down the stairs to meet the carriage, praying somehow this isn’t what I know it to be. Eugene secures the reins and jumps to the ground. A smile unwavering on her face, Mary hands the bundle to her husband and climbs down. Taking the small being in her arms, she approaches us.
“Mother, what a nice surprise.” Emmett leans down to the being in her arms. “What do you have? Has one of the piglets fallen ill?”
Mary holds the child out to me. “There was a woman at the port. I tried to help her, but she lay the baby on the ground and ran. I thought of you, because of your troubles. If you don’t want him, I’m sure someone, perhaps the Pastor, will take him in.”
My mind spins with the prospect of bringing a human child into our tribe. I know Emmett will want this, not just for himself, but for his parents. Emmett steps back and looks at me. His mother takes a step towards us, and the smell of the child, like warm hay and rich hot blood, overwhelm my senses.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Mary’s eyes meet mine.
Thinking if I hold the child my fate is sealed, I lean over and move the blankets from his chest and head. Black curly hair rests atop an olive-toned scalp. Deep brown eyes hold my gaze for a second. His arms and legs flail in the air. I tuck the blanket around his body.
“You’re good at that,” Mary beams.
“We have several babies on the compound.”
Emmett rests his hand on the small of my back, his wide eyes pleading for my approval. “What do you think?”
Even with the enormity of the task, I realize this could be the only child I have, and I look between Emmett and his parents. I know Emmett wants this for himself, his parents, and I want to do him this service. “Yes, we should take him.”
“Oh, my.” Tears spring up in Mary’s eyes. “Here, hold him.” She sets the baby in my arms. “I was thinking Theodore. The name means gift from God.”
“Theo.” I whisper to him and rub his palm. He clasps my finger, and my heart melts.
Raising a child turns out to be a task as large as managing our troop. Thankfully, the tribe adopts Theo as one of their own, helping with feeding and protection. With Eugene aging, Emmett spends much of his time on his family’s land, and Theo and I bond. Worrying for his health and wishing to prolong his life, Emmett gives him vampire blood starting at what we guess to be his first birthday. We realize the blood speeds his growth and decide to wait until he is full grown.
And grow he does, into a strong man. Mary and Eugene live long enough to see him wed. He moves to the Schmidt home and farms their acreage. They pass in the next year, and with Emmett’s aging, Theo takes over much of the plantation’s oversight. Emmett and I become grandparents, and seeing the smart, loving man Theo becomes swells my heart with pride. I know I’ll never regret the decision to raise him.
In town and at church, I hide my unchanging appearance with bonnets and shawls. As the generations turn over, they forget I remain the same, or think me a daughter, or grand-daughter. It saddens me to see Emmett’s health failing as he reaches ninety. Despite misgivings about how we came to be a family, he gave me Theo and our tribe a chance to live in peace. He passes after seventy-plus years of life the fifth day of January 1675. We honor him as one of our own, lighting a burial pyre and pushing him out into the sea, returning him to Mother Earth.
1692 – what is now the South Carolina coast
In February of 1692, a sentinel from a human-founded settlement named Salem arrives with news of additional trials for witchcraft. We’ve followed the situation since the first hanging of Alse Young in Connecticut, 1647. On 10 June 1692, the first tried in Salem, Bridget Bishop, is hanged for witchcraft, and in the coming months, we lament the loss of nineteen additional humans to the hysteria of the day. Our sentinels tell us that the humans have misjudged, all the accused are innocent. No real witches remain in Salem.
“At least they’re not hunting vampires like they are in the Old World,” Jacob finishes his report.
“It doesn’t make it any better. If humans
believe in witches and witchcraft, they are also prone to believe in other species.” I rest a hand on my forehead.
By April of 1693 five additional trials are heard and dismissed and we get reports that the trials are considered ended. It seems we my rest easy on our plantation in the south for a bit longer. Soon after, I receive a letter from Elizabeth, indicating Faye passed. Elizabeth arranges travel to the New World, and Jacob, Will, and I travel north to meet her in Boston.
“Elizabeth!” I wrap my arms around her, taking in her scent. “How are you?”
“I’m well. Happy to be off that boat.”
“We have a room at the inn, if you’d like to rest before we travel.”
“What are you talking about, child? I haven’t been free for over a hundred years, and you want me to rest on a feather mattress like in London? I’m ready to run through the forest and lounge on mats of leaves.”
“Then it shall be.” I smile at her and take a skipping step.
“I like her already.” Will beams as he steps back to let us proceed ahead of him.
Once out of the city, we run west and south to skirt the settlements. Being late summer, the leaves are fully extended, and we can roam the forest without much fear of detection. Still, Will scouts ahead, and Jacob lags back. Hearing Will’s dove cry, I signal Elizabeth to follow me. As we reach Will, he points to his ears. I close my eyes and concentrate. The tiniest hum reaches my ear drums. I sniff, and the slightest hint of honey taints the air.
“Witch,” Elizabeth whispers. “I think just one.”
We continue south at a normal human pace, following the scent as it grows stronger. Spreading out, we close in from each side. Although the scent prevails, the hum of magic stops.
“It must sense us,” Elizabeth mouths.
I nod, signaling confirmation. Atop a knoll, I stop and close my eyes. The smell is strong, and I point over the edge of a rock cliff. As I jump to the ground below, Elizabeth, Will, and Jacob join me. Tucked under the lip of the boulder shelf and behind cascading vines, I catch a glimpse of a pair of eyes.
Kingdom of the Damned: Provocation (KIngdom Journals) Page 22
