She Dies at the End (November Snow Book 1)

by A. M. Manay

  When she had recovered, she wiped away the tears, accepted a glass of water from Pine, and asked Zinnia, “Why did it hurt so much? It didn’t hurt like that when you healed my arm." She sounded a little betrayed.

  “Those wounds had already almost healed. These ones were new and much more severe. You had a number of broken ribs. The difficulty of healing rises sort of exponentially with the severity of the injury,” Zinnia explained. “I’m really sorry,” she added, looking like she might cry. “I don’t have a lot of experience doing this. Maybe I did it wrong.”

  Willow shook her head. “You did fine,” she said.

  “That’s just how it is. My parents healed me this morning. They’ve done it many times and it still hurt like hell, and my mom is an especially good healer. It’s as though months of pain and healing are compressed into just a minute or two. That’s what makes it so awful,” Pine explained.

  “It’s alright,” November said, beginning to feel better, a little embarrassed now by her emotional reaction. “I know you didn’t mean for it to hurt. Thank you for putting me back in working order.” She looked at Pine. “It must have been really bad for you this morning.”

  Pine nodded. “There were a few minutes there when I almost wished you hadn’t been quite so handy with that mace.” His smile and wink took the edge off the comment.

  “Yeah, about that . . . would it be possible for someone to teach me how to fight better? I got lucky this time, but next time . . .” November blushed as she flashed back to her desperate improvisation.

  “It wasn’t just luck. You could have hidden. You could have gone with them. You chose to fight, so you’ve already got the heart for it. That’s the most important thing,” Pine countered. November warmed to hear encouragement in his voice. It was nice to feel like she had won the soldier over. “You’ll never be as strong as any of us,” he continued honestly, “but I’m sure we can teach you something. We’ll have to adapt the lessons we’re already giving Zinnia and Ben,” Pine answered. He seemed pleased to be able to do a favor for the girl to whom he owed his life. His confidence made November feel calmer, and the idea that Ben and Zinnia also had things to learn made her feel less alone in her lack of fighting experience.

  Rose walked into the room. “I take it from the screaming that you’ve healed my favorite human?” she asked. Dressed to professional perfection, she had a clipboard in hand.

  “Yes, I’m feeling much better now,” November answered, managing a true smile. She really did feel fully recovered, but she had no desire to repeat that experience if she could help it, hence the request for self-defense lessons.

  “Excellent. I need to talk to you about food. I’ve decided to hire a service to deliver meals and groceries for you each week, since we fairies and vampires obviously have no idea what you people actually like to consume.” Rose aimed a pointed look at Zinnia, who blushed blue with guilt over her grocery shopping failure.

  “Well, thank you so much,” November replied. “I don’t want to be any trouble, or cause some huge expense,” she said self-consciously, unaccustomed to generosity or even an ordinary amount of care.

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Please, child, Lord William can afford it. For God’s sake, it’s the least we can do to feed you, not that you look like anyone else has ever bothered. Besides which, you already seem to be earning your keep quite handily.” She glanced first at her recently-saved son and then at her clipboard. “Anything you need, you will have. Obviously, going out shopping is not safe for you right now. We’ve gotten you a credit card on the company account, and we’ve ordered you a computer. It should be delivered today. You can order whatever you need. If you can’t find it, ask me.”

  November widened her eyes. What else could I possibly need? And my own computer? She was used to fighting homeless guys for time on library computers. Rose just kept going as November’s incredulity continued to grow. “We’d like to set you up a bank account for your salary, but it is complicated by the fact that you are a minor with no legal guardian and have no identification and are being hunted by nefarious animals. Until things settle down and we can get some decent forgeries, we’ll just keep track of what you’re owed.”

  The fairy finally noticed November’s befuddlement. “For heaven’s sake, dear, you aren’t a slave. You have very useful abilities and deserve to be compensated commensurately. And my husband and I will make sure Lord William doesn’t try to lowball you. He can be unnecessarily frugal sometimes.” The others laughed knowingly.

  “Thanks so much,” was all November could manage as Rose handed her a black credit card.

  “Here are some menus from the service I hired. If you can mark what you want and get it back to me tonight, they can deliver tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Sure, thanks,” she replied, taking the proffered papers and pen. Regular meals of healthy, well-prepared food certainly sounded like an appealing change of pace.

  “Lord William wants you to take things easy for the next several days,” Rose said.

  “Yes, I asked him for some time to recover and get used to my new, um, situation,” November replied.

  “Obviously, the whole residence is at your disposal, aside from others’ resting places. If you need anything, just let any of us know. Do not go into the government wing unescorted. The alarms give me headaches. And now I have to get on with my real work,” Rose said.

  “No rest for the wicked?” Pine asked his mother with a wink.

  “You hush. You know the king and court are coming for Christmas this year,” Rose replied.

  “It’s October,” her son replied.

  “Exactly! Barely two months left to make arrangements,” she said, throwing up her hands at the impossibility of it all as she strode out the door. Pine laughed.

  “Well, I’ve got homework,” Zinnia announced. “I’ll be in the library.”

  “We’ve got a meeting,” Willow said. She and Pine said their goodbyes and headed out the door.

  November went with Zinnia to the library. She worked on filling out Rose’s paperwork and set about fulfilling Greg’s request. She was putting off dealing with the envelope in her pocket. She did not look forward to seeing anything about Agnes’s ugly life. Perhaps she should procrastinate, put it off for a few days and take things easy. But what if something she saw was time sensitive? What if she could have prevented an attack, or another attempt at her own kidnapping? She would never be able to forgive herself.

  She took a deep breath and pulled out the envelope. She reached in and drew out the strand of hair, lowering her defenses and willing herself to go wherever the hair took her. Unfortunately, it took her straight back to her mother’s death and no further. She tried to push past it with no success. Growling with frustration, she returned to herself and put the hair away again.

  Zinnia looked up from her truly formidable pile of books. “Problem?”

  “I found one of Agnes’s hairs on my mother’s body. I was hoping it could tell me something, but all I’m getting is my mother’s murder. Maybe it was on her body too long? I don’t know. I’ll try again another time. Maybe I’ll have better luck,” November replied, feeling a strange mixture of disappointment and relief. Now she could relax without any guilt, once she washed the images of her poor mother out of her head.

  As she turned her attention back to the Wall Street Journal, Savita and Lord William arrived, heralding sunset.

  “All better?” Lord William asked, walking over and kneeling next to her chair to get a good look at her. To her great consternation, his nearness made her heart leap.

  “I’m fine,” she said, willing her voice to sound normal.

  “Excellent,” he replied. “I have some unfortunate news. Dogwood is dead. He somehow managed to poison himself with silver; perhaps he took it when he was in the trunk of the car. We were hoping to question him further. The only consolation is that with your help, last night was very productive. Also, that he died a slow and very painful death.”


  November was secretly a little happy at the news. It was hard to relax knowing he was down there in the dungeon. William continued, “I mean for you to have those quiet days that you requested. We’ve put you through a lot.” He reached out and touched her hair, brushing the heel of his hand lightly against her cheek. The contact gave her chills. “I’m proud of you,” he added, and then he walked back out the door. “I need to inform Pine that he’s been robbed of his chance for vengeance. Then I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me,” he called in their general direction. November looked after him, feeling both relieved and perturbed by his exit.

  Savita sat down on the floor next to November’s chair. “Your work last night was very helpful. I am wondering if you would be willing to work more closely with me on the investigation of these bombings.”

  “Of course, I mean, if you think I can add something,” the human replied a bit nervously. “I’ve never done anything like that before. What would it entail?”

  “I would like you to examine the evidence I’ve already gathered, to see if you can offer any additional insight.” Savita looked up at her. “I could certainly use the assistance. I have made very little progress, sad to say.”

  “Sure,” November said, steeling herself in advance for what promised to be a very unpleasant task.

  “I’ll set something up with my brother. I’d better make a move and get back to Livermore,” she finished, rising gracefully.

  “Have a good night,” November said as Zinnia gave the vampire a friendly wave without looking up from her books. The fairy had a test the next morning, apparently.

  Ben joined them a few minutes after his elders vacated. “Well, you’ve certainly got your pretty face back. You sure you feel alright?”

  “I’m fine. Really.” All this attention was beginning to alarm her. Ben backed off a bit, reading her face.

  “I hear that fairy healing can be pretty painful,” he said sympathetically.

  “Yeah, I hope to avoid needing it in the future,” she replied.

  “Unfortunately, I need to go out and find some food,” Ben said with a voice full of reluctance.

  “Unfortunately?” Zinnia asked, confused.

  “I’d rather stay here with you two,” he answered. “Be back in an hour.” He gave November a lingering look before he rushed out the door. November blushed furiously. Zinnia laughed.

  “What in the world was that all about?” November asked her friend when they were once again alone.

  “He obviously wants you,” Zinnia replied, amused at her cluelessness.

  “Two days ago he was complaining about babysitting me,” November countered.

  “Things change. You’ve shown yourself to be more than the typical, disposable human,” her friend said. “Nothing can come of it, of course.”

  “Why not?” November demanded. She wasn’t sure that she even wanted anything to come of it, but the decisive statement offended her nonetheless.

  “You belong to Lord William. You cannot steal your lord’s human, seduce her, feed on her blood. You just can’t,” Zinnia explained. “Especially when Lord William seems to be taking rather a shine to you himself. I’ve never seen him so affectionate toward a human before, and I’ve known him all my life.”

  “I’m not his property,” November said. “And who says anyone wants to feed on my blood? Maybe Ben just has a little crush on me.”

  “Don’t think of it as being his property. It’s more like you’re under his protection. He would have to give another lower ranking vampire or fairy permission to pursue you. They would never dare otherwise. And of course Ben wants to bite you. Blood and sex go together for vampires. Same goes for fairies and life energy. It’s all bound up together.” Zinnia paused. “You should be careful, with Ben. If you encourage him, and Lord William sees that Ben’s after you, or if he bites you, heaven forbid, Ben could get in serious trouble. I’m talking scourging, banishment, who knows what. Lord William would view it as defying his authority. Ben is the one who would be punished, not you.”

  “Eek! This is all so confusing,” November complained, throwing back her head in frustration. “You seem to be pretty fond of Ben. Unlike everyone else in the house.”

  The fairy sighed. “Yeah. I feel bad for him. He’s in a tough spot. Here's the story I heard: his maker turned him as a gift to his young daughter. The girl was having a really hard time adjusting to being a vampire, and she took a liking to Ben. So their maker turned him to try to make his daughter happy. Ben liked her, too. He fell for her pretty hard. But she was still miserable as a vampire. She wound up killing herself. Then his maker got killed, and he was left all alone for about a year, until Lord William forced him to move up here when the locals in So Cal got tired of his drama. And now he doesn’t really fit in here,” Zinnia continued. “It’s been almost a year, and he just can’t seem to get along with most of us. He and I are friends, maybe because we’re close to the same age. But the others find him irritating and arrogant and careless. Lord William doesn’t trust him, and Ben doesn’t even really try to improve his reputation.”

  “Wow. What a mess,” November replied. She had more sympathy for him now. His attitude seemed a bit more understandable now that she knew the back story. “So, you don’t like him in a romantic way?”

  “Of course not! He’s too much of a slacker. Besides, it’s pretty unusual for a fairy and a vampire to be involved. They can't drink from us, which is kind of their whole bag. For a fling, we all prefer humans we can feed from. For a serious thing, we mostly stick to other fairies because our population is so small. We have a duty to preserve our people.” Zinnia sounded like she was reciting something her parents had drummed into her head. “Do you like Ben? Or maybe Lord William?” Zinnia asked in a sing-song voice, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

  “Ew!" she exclaimed, throwing a pillow at her friend. "Jeez, I don't know,” November replied more honestly after a long minute. “Maybe? There’s just too much happening all at once, and I don’t want complications or trouble right now. This is not a good time or place for me to try to learn how to date.” She stopped for a moment, hit with an unpleasant realization. “Of course, it seems this might be the only chance I ever have,” she said slowly, considering her upcoming, oft-viewed burial.

  “Just be careful and smart about it. And don’t do anything you’re at all unsure of. It seems like you’ve got your head on straight, as far as I can see. You’re not acting like most people our age seem to, throwing themselves right into bad situations,” Zinnia said, trying to be supportive.

  “Thanks. It’s good to have you to talk to, Zinnia. I’m not used to having a girlfriend.” November smiled.

  “Me neither. It’s kind of awesome,” Zinnia agreed, grinning.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” the human asked.

  “There’s a boy in one of my classes, Rigo. He plays piano. We have lunch together. He eats. I pretend to eat. Then I feed on him. Sometimes we make out. The circle of life. And then there’s Acorn. We’re betrothed.” She sighed heavily. The engagement did not seem to be a source of joy.

  “You’re engaged. To be married. And you have a human sort-of-boyfriend. Wowzers."

  “We’ve been engaged since I was, like, 5. I’m almost 20 now, and we probably won’t marry until I’m 50. That’s about the age when we have the best chance of carrying a child to term. I’ve met him once. My parents picked him because his dad is Lord of Georgia and we’re not too closely related. It’s all about politics and making baby fairies. Love is not the objective.”

  “That sounds incredibly difficult.” November responded.

  Zinnia shrugged. “It is what it is. Hopefully, we’ll come to love each other. If I don’t find love in my marriage, I’ll find it elsewhere, and no one will think any less of me. When you live for centuries, monogamy isn’t that prized. Most married fairies and vampires take human lovers as well. That’s just how our world works.”

  “But don’t people get
their feelings hurt?” This system sounded to November like a recipe for disaster.

  “Sometimes.”

  “So if you fall in love with a human, you can never tell him who you really are,” November said. “And you’ll almost certainly outlive him.”

  “Yes. Vampires get to make a choice if they fall in love with humans: they can make them vampires. We can't make someone a fairy. It’s a hard knock life," she shrugged. "So, most of us try not to get too emotionally attached to humans. We try to save our love for each other. It’s safer that way, for everyone,” Zinnia said, a little sadly. "Pine had a human husband, though, but that's pretty unusual."

  “Huh,” November said, thinking of her own efforts not to get too close to other people, isolating herself as a survival mechanism, a way to protect herself and her sanity. People had always found her to be cold and unfriendly.

  She wondered why she felt closer to these strangers after only a few days than she felt toward human people she’d known a long time. Part of it was that it was easier to block visions of their lives. It seemed that she had to look on purpose to pry into the past and future of these supernatural creatures, which meant they could touch her without setting her off. Part of it was that she didn’t have to hide what she was or pretend to be normal. And perhaps part of it was that they had similar a survival strategy: a distancing from the ordinary human world while simultaneously trying to function within it.

  True to William’s word, November enjoyed a few weeks of quiet domesticity. She read a few novels. She enjoyed her catered meals and settled into a schedule, going to bed a few hours before dawn and rising in the afternoon. During the daylight hours when she was mostly alone, she explored the house until she was so used to every part of the residence that none of the rooms any longer spawned visions or specters or half-heard conversations.

  Her favorite room besides the library was the ballroom, once she got accustomed to it. She hated crowds and public places ordinarily, but she loved listening to the music and watching the dancing from twenty years of lavish parties held in that chamber. She followed their footsteps and admired their shoes and their clothes, feeling like some kind of Cinderella spying on high society. She learned all their favorite dance steps, pretending to be the belle of the ball.