She Dies at the End (November Snow Book 1)

by A. M. Manay

  “I don’t think I find that as reassuring as you intend it to be, given my, um, humanness,” November replied as the main house came into view. Automatic floodlights came on as they drove down the driveway. It was quite a lovely house, all timber and stone and large windows. It was well-landscaped, with drought-resistant trees and shrubs scattered artistically about. November wondered what it would look like during the day. It looked like there was a garden in the back, perhaps a gazebo.

  “You will be perfectly safe in the house, I promise you. Zinnia and my sister will keep you company. She spends most of her time out here, with her wife and a few of our staff who take care of the land and the animals. The city doesn’t suit her,” William explained as he helped her out of the car and into the cool night air. November wrapped her arms around herself against the chill, prompting William to remove his jacket and place it around her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” the young woman said, touched by the gesture in spite of herself. An Indian girl appeared at the door as the four of them climbed up to the porch. She was wearing a cotton salwar kameez.

  “You are most welcome,” she said in greeting, smiling at November. “My brother has told me about you. My name is Savita. I’m afraid I can offer you nothing but water. We are not accustomed to having human visitors here.”

  “Hey, Savu akka,” he greeted his sister with a kiss. “You’re actually one of the first humans to set foot on the property since the construction was completed,” William added cheerily.

  “How . . . um . . . flattering,” November responded uncertainly, drowning in the large coat that had been made for a blacksmith’s shoulders. She caught a glimpse of Knox sitting at a large desk in a very well-appointed office.

  “We’ll be back in 30, akka,” William called to his sister as he descended the steps. He smiled back at them, and the two hungry vampires disappeared in a blur of speed.

  “Wow,” breathed November.

  “One of our more useful tricks,” Savita replied. “Into the house with you.”

  They sat in a homey room full of comfortable furniture facing a large fireplace. Zinnia pulled out what looked like homework and settled down on the floor to study. As November sank into the leather couch, she saw her binder of drawings sitting on the coffee table.

  “William came straight here after meeting you, to show me your drawings and to tell me of the reading you conducted with him. He was amazed, and believe me when I tell you he is very rarely impressed by a human,” Savita began. “It seems that you are a very powerful seer.”

  “I don’t know about that,” November replied, looking at her hands. Powerful was not a word that she associated with herself.

  “We do. Young one, my brother has been alive for nearly 900 years, and I have 50 more years than he. Seers, wise women, healers, mind-readers – they are extremely rare among the humans. And visions of the future are rare even amongst our people, the vampires and fairies. You may well be the most powerful soothsayer to fall into vampire hands in centuries. You are extremely valuable.” Savita watched the human carefully, sensing her trepidation. “I am frightening you with this talk.”

  “I don’t understand what you want with me. I thought your brother was taking me mostly because I found out the secret of your existence, but you seem to have very high expectations of my abilities. All I am is a crazy teenage girl with a power she can barely control. What if I’m not what you want me to be?”

  “All we want is for you to help us as best you can with certain problems we face. We will not hurt you if you fail, November, and we will do everything we can to protect you from those who would,” Savita reassured her earnestly. She reached out to touch November’s knee but pulled up short when the human flinched.

  “Those who would what?” November asked softly, thinking of her bloody corpse lying in the dirt.

  “When your gift becomes known in our community, a day we will do our best to forestall, there will be others who covet you, others who have less respect for humans and who would deal with you more harshly, others who would do whatever is necessary to stop you from helping us,” Savita explained with somewhat brutal honesty.

  November took a deep breath, trying to steady her heart and her voice. “Other vampires?” she finally asked.

  “Vampires, fairies, even werewolves. You are a rare jewel. It’s a lucky thing we found you before anyone else did,” Savita added.

  “Lucky for me, or lucky for you?” November ventured boldly.

  “Both, I hope,” said the vampire with a twitch of a smile.

  “You’ve endangered me. You’ve brought me into a fight that isn’t mine.” November was circling back towards anger again.

  “Yes. But the truth is, you would have been dragged into it by someone. You don’t seem to understand the reputation you’ve built travelling with this carnival. We did some research after we heard about you. You have quite the internet fan base, November. You're all over Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, YouTube. Some powerful creature was going to find you and use you. It was inevitable. You were never going to be left alone to live a normal life in the human world, if your gift would even allow you to do so.”

  “Here, show her,” Zinnia chimed in, passing her laptop to Savita.

  November looked at the screen, stunned into silence. There was a picture of her, presumably taken with someone’s phone. It was in black-and-white, part of her face obscured by her hair, which had the effect of making her look mysterious and exotic. There were testimonials from clients singing her praises, a few complaints from others, sketches that had been scanned and uploaded, and the carnival’s projected schedule for this year and next. There were even audio and video files of readings, probably also taken surreptitiously with a phone. November felt naked.

  “You really didn’t know, did you?” Savita said, reading the look on her face. November shook her head. “In this modern world, nothing stays secret or anonymous for long. Besides – you told William yourself that you knew this was fate, for you to wind up with us.” November nodded.

  Suddenly, November was sucked from the comfortable room out into the grassland behind the garden.

  A deer is running for his life, but his death is running faster. The hunter is exhilarated and hungry; the prey is desperate and afraid. William leaps onto his quarry’s back and sinks his teeth into his neck; the deer stumbles and falls to his knees, surrendering to the inevitable. The animal gives no cry of pain; he does not thrash or fight. He slowly weakens as the vampire feeds until his breathing stops. William pats his dinner’s neck, whispers, “Thanks,” and begins striding back to the house.

  November came back to herself with a gasp, looking into Savita’s concerned face. “Are you alright, November?” the vampire asked with concern.

  November nodded. “Just caught sight of your brother, ah . . . eating breakfast,” she answered. “Sometimes visions come upon me like that, without warning. I wonder why . . . oh, the coat, of course! Personal objects, especially when they are often worn -- they can give me very vivid sightings.”

  “That is as it was for my sister, as well,” Savita replied with a sad smile.

  “You have a sister like me?” November asked excitedly. She’d never met anyone else with a gift like hers.

  “Had. When I was human. She was so beautiful. She couldn’t bear her gift. She took her own life when we were teenagers, shortly before I was made a vampire.” Savita looked across the room and shook her head.

  “I can certainly understand why she would. I tried more than once,” November confessed quietly. “I finally gained some control over the visions, but I had to learn to harden my heart. I’m sorry for your loss,” she finished weakly, reaching her hand tentatively toward the vampire, not knowing what to say.

  “It was a very long time ago,” she said. “Your strength will be an asset to you now. It sounds like you’re half vampire already,” she said with a weak smile.

  “May I ask, how old were you when you w
ere, um, changed?” November was curious because William had said she herself was too young to turn, but Savita looked to be barely more than a child.

  “I was 15. We have since decided that is far too young. The world was different then. I was an adult by our standards, already married and widowed when I died. But going through eternity looking like what is now considered a child is a bit of a burden, and many people your age are not mature enough to handle the transition from a human life to a vampire one. We lose a lot of young vampires. And a disappearing minor tends to attract police attention. So, about a century ago we made a law that humans must be 21 to be turned.”

  At that, William strode in, seeming more relaxed than he had in the car, and with a bit of color in his ivory face.

  “By the way, where’s Noemi?” he asked his sister.

  “My wife is still in Las Vegas, helping Father install his new artwork,” she replied before adding, “It seems you gave our new psychic friend quite a show.”

  “You saw me feeding?” he asked, concerned that he had frightened the human. “Are you . . . upset?” he asked gingerly.

  “No, it was fine. I’ve had much worse, believe me. It was actually kind of beautiful and exciting, to be honest,” she admitted, coloring slightly. “And he didn’t seem to suffer or fight. It looked as if he was falling asleep,” the seer finished.

  “Our saliva contains analgesics and a substance that induces calm and a sense of wellbeing, so our prey don’t suffer unless we hurt them on purpose. There are those who like to torment their food, but I am not among them.” The imposing redhead paused. “Not unless it’s someone who deserves it,” he finished ominously.

  William sat down next to November. “Which brings us to the next part of your adventure.” He paused, and the human’s anxiety returned in full force. “We must exchange blood.”

  “I beg your pardon?” she blurted, sliding away from him. “Why would we need to do that?” she asked with alarm, turning to Savita to look for aid.

  “So that other vampires and fairies know that he has a claim on you, that you are not prey available to them,” Savita explained gently. “You only need to swallow a drop of his blood, and he will need a sip or two of yours. It will not harm you. Then our people will be able to tell when they meet you that you are bound to William. He is Lord of California, so none of his vassals would dare molest you.”

  “They’ll think I’m his pet human?” she asked with some distaste, wrinkling her nose.

  “Essentially,” William admitted. “That will make them curious about you, as I have not had a favorite human in many years. They will be even more curious if they find out that you’re living in my home. That simply isn’t done unless a vampire plans to turn his human in short order, and you are too young yet to turn legally. You will be meeting dangerous people who will want your blood and your body and, once they find out about it, your gift. This blood bond will make them at least think twice about trying to take you, as it would be an act of aggression against me. It is well known that I am not a good man to have for an enemy, and I have a powerful family. The blood will also help us to find you if you are ever stolen.”

  William leaned in to look into her alarm-widened eyes. “I know it must be horrifying, the thought that people will think of you as property. But it will help protect you. It must be done.”

  November nodded. The idea of being seen as someone’s pet was horrifying; the idea of being seen as “free prey” was rather more horrifying. “Will it hurt?”

  “A little, as the fangs pierce the skin. Like a needle. After that, no,” Savita assured her.

  “Okay,” November said softly after a brief pause. She swallowed. “I’m ready.”

  “You really are a brave girl,” William said with a touch of regret. Fangs appeared in his mouth, transforming his features in a rather terrifying fashion and quickening November’s heartbeat. He pricked his finger with one fang and held out his hand. November took a drop of blood on the tip of her finger, braced herself, and licked the crimson liquid from her hand, grimacing with anticipatory disgust.

  Her mind was filled to bursting with image upon image, too fast to process or appreciate, one bitten victim after another, a millennium's worth of hunting and feeding and fighting and sex compressed into thirty seconds of whirlwind. She heard someone cry out in pain or pleasure; she couldn’t tell which. It took her a moment to realize the voice was hers. When she opened her eyes, she was on the floor, William, Zinnia, and Savita hovering over her with worried faces.

  “That was rather intense,” she said, placing her hand upon her forehead as the struggled to sit up.

  “You looked like you were having a seizure of some sort,” Savita said, helping her back onto the couch. “That is not the typical reaction to consuming our blood. What did you see?”

  November hesitated. “A lot of feeding. A lot.” She colored again as she remembered what else she'd seen. “I’m alright. It wasn’t painful, just really, ah, vivid.”

  William looked like he would blush if he could. “By the way, whatever you see of my life, tonight or any other time, I need you to keep to yourself. I am a private man, and neither my enemies nor my friends need to know my every secret. I must say, having to place so much trust in a human makes me uncomfortable. Though I expect it’s no more than I deserve given how I’ve upended your life.”

  “I don’t discuss my visions with people who aren’t in them. If I draw any of you, I’ll give the papers to you, and you can decide whether or not to destroy them,” she replied. William’s request made her realize that she was not, in fact, powerless. William was exposing himself to the very real danger that she would see things he wanted kept secret. The moment he first touched her, he put a weapon in her hand. I am not helpless. I have something they want. Something they fear. I am not helpless, she breathed to herself.

  “Thank you,” William said. “Are you recovered enough to proceed?” November nodded. William lifted her feet onto the couch. “Lean your head back against the armrest,” he directed. “Don’t forget to breathe. It’ll only take a moment.”

  He brushed her hair away from her neck and leaned forward. It felt strangely intimate to November, who had never been this close to any man or boy before. It was what she’d imagined a first kiss would be like when she finally had one: awkward and exciting at the same time. Then she felt a sharp prick like a large needle, and she heard William swallowing – swallowing her life’s blood. It was a strange thought. William lifted his head, pressing a tissue against her neck.

  “All done. You did great, young one. How do you feel?”

  “Good,” she said with surprise. “Relaxed, strangely enough.”

  “Did you see anything?” Savita asked.

  “No. Everything went still,” November replied, pleased at the unexpected peace.

  They heard a knock at the door, which opened to reveal Ben returned from his hunting. “Does she taste as good as she looks?” asked Ben with a wink when he spied the bandage.

  “Better,” answered William, almost growling. “Fangs and hands off.”

  “I was just teasing her,” he said stiffly. Under his master's glare, he managed to squeeze out the words, "I apologize."

  “She will need friends in our world. I expect both of you to look out for her without trying to eat her or bed her. Is that clear?” William asked Zinnia and Ben in the lordliest possible manner.

  “Of course,” replied Zinnia, smiling at her new friend. Ben nodded, his eyes resentful.

  November yawned, which William took as a reminder to depart. “Good night, akka. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said, kissing Savita on the cheek one more time.

  November barely made it to the car before falling asleep. She stirred once as William placed her in a soft, sweet-smelling bed. She heard, “Go back to sleep, soothsayer. See you at sunset,” and fell back into the only dreamless sleep she’d ever had in all her life.

  Chapter 4

  November woke up in yest
erday’s clothes, momentarily confused by her surroundings. All was quiet and sunshine. She was shocked to look down at her battered watch to see that she’d slept until nearly two in the afternoon. She had to admit, though, that it felt incredible. She’d never had such peaceful sleep, no matter how exhausted she'd been when she'd put her head down.

  She sat up to begin taking stock of her new home. She was lying in a queen-sized bed with soft white sheets, a pale silver blanket edged with satin, and a quilt patterned in silver and white. Feather pillows cushioned her; an alarm clock and a modernist lamp stood sentinel on the nightstand along with a smartphone charging next to a set of speakers.

  She realized with a start that no one had ever slept on this bed before. Everything beneath her was brand new. The idea that they had purchased it for her was a bit alarming. What were they going to expect in recompense? In November’s experience, nothing worth having came for free. She tried to catch a glimpse of what the room had been used for before she arrived in it. Cardboard boxes along with a couple of guitars and music stands were all that she could find. Apparently, it had been used for storage, which was reassuring. She should sleep well here – there was no one else's past to pace the floor, waiting to invade her dreams.

  She turned to look out the window. The view was lovely. The home was perched high on a ridge overlooking Oakland, and she could see all the way to the Bay. The immediate environs were filled with greenery. She could not see the neighboring houses; William’s home was an isolated and surely costly sanctuary.

  November stood and walked toward the door. She was filled with momentary panic when she realized that it was locked from the outside. She kept trying to turn the knob, to no avail. Her hands began to shake; her mouth filled with saliva, and a wave of nausea overtook her as she realized that she was more prisoner than guest, at least for the moment. For an instant, she was back in the rubber rooms of St. James' Hospital, full of a desperate ache from all the tears and the hours spent banging her head against the padded door. Fortunately, she quickly returned to herself, and anger soon replaced fear. November checked the windows, not surprised to find that they were also sealed shut.