She Dies at the End (November Snow Book 1)

by A. M. Manay

  “May I ask, why didn’t you leave her with Ilyn?” she asked. She was afraid he would be offended by her questions, but instead, he seemed pleased at her interest, as if he’d just been waiting for someone to regale with tales of his own brilliance.

  “Because I considered him the lesser threat. Without my mother, he had no agency, no drive, no fire.” November wondered, not for the first time, if Luka had had a hand in his mother’s death. “You might have given it back, I’d wager, given the chance. But that’s no longer a problem,” he added with a shark’s smile. “You are a remarkably resilient girl, you know. Most people in your position would be incoherent with terror. But then, I supposed you’ve had to be adaptable: so many lives, so many deaths.” He finally removed his hand from hers and lifted it to briefly touch her hair. “Of course, I can smell your fear, but still, you hide it well.”

  “Um, thank you?” she managed uncertainly.

  “I’m not going to rape you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said in a conversational tone, as if they were discussing a menu. Some of the tension left her body, and her breath came a little easier. Why, yes, that is exactly what I am afraid of, fancy your mentioning that. He continued touching her lightly, here and there, curiously, as if examining an expensive suit he was thinking of buying. “Not that I don’t enjoy a spot of sexual violence now and again,” he said with no shame, as if admitting a minor vice like watching reality television. “But you,” he continued, touching her hair in the creepiest possible fashion. “You, I want willing. I want to win all of you, heart included. And I will have that, in time.”

  November continued looking silently over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes, trying to keep her face blank. “Besides, I shouldn’t bite you again so soon after last night,” he said, softly brushing his fingers against the fresh marks on her neck. She shivered. “Your blood is so delightful, it might be difficult for me to stop. And without teeth, well, how very boring the coupling would be.” He brushed the back of his hand over the scar on her upper arm, and she winced as pain shot though the healed wound. “Ah, poor girl, is that where she cut you?” November nodded. “She’s lucky you already killed her. Now, then,” he said, changing the subject. “Any interesting visions since last we spoke?”

  “Not really,” she replied. “After I’m bitten, I sleep without dreaming.” Thank God for small favors.

  “Any more visions of your previous selves?”

  “I think I’ve been a fairy and a werewolf both,” she said. “But I've never seen myself as a vampire. So I guess I haven’t experienced that before . . .”

  “Oh, good. What fun we’ll have corrupting you, kitten,” he replied. November swallowed her disgust.

  Their strange tête-a-tête was interrupted by a strong knock on the door. Willow entered in a hurry. “Trouble with the younglings, master. There have been several fights, and a number of them tried to feed on the downed livestock and have fallen ill. The captains are having trouble maintaining order.”

  “How disappointing,” he replied with evident irritation. “I suppose I must make some examples. And we need to burn the bodies before anyone else does something idiotic. For heaven’s sake, who eats spoiled meat? Sometimes I am surprised younglings can tie their own shoes.” He turned back to his captive. “Alas, kitten, duty calls. I’ll have Willow escort you back to your quarters.” November tried not to show her relief as Willow whisked her out the door.

  They moved quickly down the halls, Willow looking very alert, almost nervous. “What’s wrong?” November asked, picking up on her tension.

  “You’re the only prey available. One of them might do something stupid,” she replied.

  “I don’t understand. They all fed just last night. I’ve seen people go days between feedings. A week, even.”

  “Not newborns in the first year. And being in groups only makes it worse. It sets off their survival instincts. They subconsciously see the others as rival hunters, increasing the urgency they feel to find blood. And younglings are well-represented in his lordship’s ranks.” This November already knew from watching the suicide bombers. “Young fairies, on the other hand, become more lethargic, to conserve energy.” A bell began ringing. “All call,” Willow explained. “Our lord is summoning everyone to read them the riot act and get them under control, give the makers the chance to issue orders to behave to their progeny. That will help, but the captains have so many children that it dilutes their power over them.”

  They heard crashes and sounds of shouting up ahead. Willow swore, grabbing November by the arm and doubling back down the corridor. Groups of irritated and hungry predators kept forcing her to change course to avoid them. “We should have stayed in Master’s office,” she said under her breath.

  Their route grew so circuitous that to November’s surprise, they were soon close to where the werewolves were kept. Their luck ran out when out of a door burst a vampire with a rat held in his teeth. The moment he saw November, he dropped the vermin, and his eyes went wild. He lunged toward her. Willow easily threw him aside, ordering him to stand down, but he could not hear her. He lunged again. This time, Willow broke his arm. Before he could try again, Willow quickly keyed open the dungeon door and threw November inside to safety.

  She landed hard in the middle of the floor, scraping her hands bloody on the rough concrete. She looked around her. Against the walls, a half-dozen chained werewolves stared at her. Her head spun for a moment, as she was subjected to flashes of the various unfortunate souls who had lived and died in this particular hole. She finally opened her eyes again.

  The little boy finally broke the tension, silently raising his hand in greeting. “Hi,” she whispered in reply, holding up her own hand.

  “We hear it’s a bit of a mess out there, demon,” Hector said. “At least we got to eat. Though there is a marked lack of beverages. I really must complain about the service.” He gave a sardonic smile.

  “Well, I’m glad you got to eat, at least, but the cost was quite high, I’m afraid,” she replied. “And my name is November,” she added wearily.

  “They all died, then, November?” he asked quietly. She nodded sadly. “Over you?”

  “Evidently,” she answered with trembling lips. “At least partially.” Tears pooled in her eyes.

  “And I take it some of the vampire babies are going a bit nuts out there?”

  “Evidently,” she said again. “I suppose that must have been the idea. Why are there so many of them, anyway? The, ah, vampire babies?”

  “They make good cannon fodder. He has his senior people create his army for him, to supplement the older recruits. Newborns have a hard time disobeying orders from their makers, you know,” he replied.

  “So I’ve heard,” she responded somberly. “And lucky me, I’ll be Luka’s first. No siblings to dilute the bond.” She rested her suddenly weary head in her palm.

  “And his lordship intends to kill you tomorrow?” Hector asked, his voice bitter.

  “Yes, I believe that’s still the plan,” she managed to reply without shuddering.

  “So if someone’s coming for you, they’re coming soon?” She nodded. “Do you think they’ll come?”

  “God, I hope so,” she replied. For an instant, all the fear and grief she’d been holding back poured over the dam and threatened to wash her away. She swallowed a few times and got control of herself. “If they do, I’ll do everything I can to get that door open,” she promised.

  Hector laughed. “I doubt your friends will be inclined to set us free. Luka stole you from Ilyn, did he not? Ilyn the Scourge, killer of a thousand wolves?”

  “They’ll do it if I insist.” She looked him straight in the eye, and apparently her confidence was persuasive, as Hector conceded the point. Em continued, “If they’re too late . . . if they come after he’s already changed me, if you get the chance, could you try to make sure I get staked before he makes me do something awful?” She angrily wiped away a tear. “Please.”
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  Hector looked her over, appraising her, and finally deciding that she meant it. “I’ll do my best, miss,” Hector promised.

  November then caught sight of the little boy’s arm. It was covered in burns from the silver shackle binding him to the wall. At least he only had the one chain; the others were much more thoroughly tethered. She crawled over toward him, tore the lining out of her skirt, and began wrapping his wrist to protect it from the silver. At first, he shrank from her in fear, but he relaxed once he realized what she was doing.

  “They’ll just take it from him as soon as they notice, and then the both of you will be in trouble,” one of the women scolded her.

  “Let her be,” Hector countered. “It’ll give the skin a chance to heal, save him from another infection. You hide that when the fairy opens the door, Carlos.” The boy nodded and curled up protectively around his arm. November just sat, looking at him. He was so small. “Move away, November. She’s finished the bloodsucker off,” Hector warned, and November scurried back to the center of the room.

  Willow opened the door, barely a hair out of place. “Out. Now,” she ordered, and November complied, careful not to look back and give away her concern for the werewolves. The vampire so interested in eating her was now a pile of ash on the floor. “I was trying to keep him alive,” Willow offered, “but he was quite determined.” As soon as the door was locked behind them, Willow picked November up, threw the girl over her shoulder, and ran at full speed, not slowing once until they were behind the heavy, locked door of November’s quarters.

  November spent a long while curled up on her sofa, staring into the fire. Willow kept watch, taking her eyes from her charge only to check her phone for updates. They could hear occasional noise in the halls or through the vents but otherwise were undisturbed. November appreciated the quiet. It allowed her another chance to try to find Ilyn. She stared into the flames and let her mind drift to clear her thoughts, and then she closed her eyes and thought about the king. She listened in her mind to the songs he had sung to her as she had suffered from the cursed blade. She smelled his pipe smoke, saw the shine of his hair, felt the pressure of his hand on her back when they had danced together.

  And finally, it came, just a glimpse: Ilyn and William and Zinnia, standing next to a truck on a deserted road, talking to Ben. It was just a flash, and then it was gone, but it was all November could do not to jump up and sing. They’re alive. She glanced at Willow, who was texting and had noticed nothing. They’re coming. But when?

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud knock sounded. Willow braced herself for trouble, but it was Luka who unlocked the door, followed by two fairies bearing boxes of food and bottled water. They placed their burdens on the table and were dismissed. “Any word from Philemon?” Willow asked as November tried to be invisible by the fire.

  “He’ll have a refrigerated truck full of human blood here by tomorrow dusk along with a couple of trucks full of live chickens.” Willow made a face. “I know,” he said. “Revolting. However, according to our engineer, it will take several days to get the cistern and plumbing sufficiently clean to provide drinking water for a new herd of humans. There’s no point in getting the livestock here only to let them all expire. We’ll have to make do for a few days on short rations.”

  “Are you sure you still want to have her turning be public? The young ones might still be pretty on edge if they’re still hungry,” Willow warned.

  “The captains have things under control now, and they will be fed before the festivities begin,” he replied in a definitive tone. “But perhaps she should be in place before our people assemble rather than having her walk through the crowd as planned.”

  “That sounds safer,” Willow agreed. November silently gave thanks that she would at least be spared that particular humiliation. She had found Lilith’s running of the gauntlet rather horrifying. “Is Mark very upset about Henry?” the fairy asked with a twinge of guilt.

  “He knows it’s his own fault for not getting hold of his progeny and issuing proper orders. You did what was necessary,” Luka replied, seeming unconcerned about the loss of one of his vampires.

  “I know. I just don’t like killing babies.”

  “To your credit,” he replied before turning his attention to November. “And how are we doing, kitten?”

  “Fine, thank you,” she answered, ignoring the revolting pet name with great effort. “I was a little spooked by that business in the corridor, but I’ve calmed down.”

  “Splendid,” he answered absently. “Back to work for me, then. So much to do, and all these complications. Willow, keep her here all day tomorrow. We take no chances. This should be enough food and water, yes?”

  November looked over the provisions and nodded. “More than enough.”

  “Have her bathed and ready by dusk,” he ordered Willow. “Carrot and Ivy will bring water directly from the well to heat in the fire, as strychnine can be absorbed through the skin.”

  Willow smiled. “The old fashioned way. How ever did we manage?”

  “Servants,” he replied with a smile of his own. He walked over to November and took her by the shoulders. She tried not to shrink from his touch. “Until tomorrow, my dear, when you become one of us,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “Don’t be frightened. It barely hurts at all.” And with that, he left.

  “What time is it?” November asked her fairy keeper, not sure if she’d answer.

  “Nearly dawn.”

  “Maybe I should have a snack and then try to get some sleep.” Willow nodded.

  She savored the bread, fruit, and hard cheese she found in the boxes, along with the clean water for which she had a newfound appreciation. Then November curled up in the bed, which was warm and comfortable. The previous early morning, she’d already passed out and had been tucked into it by someone else. She’d been sedated enough by Luka’s bite that she’d slept peacefully. This time, however, was different. She was anxious and frightened, unable to settle, wondering if her friends would come in time, wondering if they would be successful or if they would only add to the list of people dead because of her.

  When she finally dozed off, she discovered unhappily that this room had possessed a previous occupant: a young man, a demon, like her, she suspected, but less stable, and older, maybe 30 or 35 years old. The clothes read nineteenth century. He had been beautiful and tormented, and Luka must have decided that he would make a bad vampire, for one night, he had killed his prisoner. It was a gentle murder, as murders go. The victim saw it coming, but he didn’t fight. He seemed relieved. Then she saw a child, a little boy of about ten years old. It took her a moment to realize that this was the same person, that Luka had kept him in this room for twenty years or more before giving up on him. Willow had to shake her awake when she started screaming. After that, she didn't try to sleep anymore. It seemed a bit of a shame to waste her remaining hours of human life on sleep anyway, if, in fact, she really was to die that night. Willow watched her carefully, not even letting her close the door when she used the bathroom.

  She curled up again on the sofa, staring into the fire. Visions came and went. She dozed occasionally, always waking with a start. She ate when she got hungry. She sketched a little. She thought about what she would say to each of her friends if she ever got the chance. She tried to think of how she would try to behave up on the roof. She didn’t want them enjoying her fear, but she didn’t want to spend her last human moments with her mind adrift and numb, the way it had been so much of the time during her childhood sufferings. She finally decided that she would try to focus her mind on good memories, on times of love and happiness from her life, few as they might be.

  Eventually, fairies began showing up with huge pots of water, which they set in the fire and used to fill the bathtub. Once it was full and steaming and capped with sweet-smelling bubbles, November immersed herself in the scalding water and stayed submerged for what had to have been hours. They kept replacing the wate
r as it cooled. Willow seemed in no real hurry. It was only early afternoon. Somehow, the water made November feel peaceful and calm. She always had liked feeling warm. There’s nothing I can do about whatever is going to happen. All I can do is be ready to react in the moment. There’s no point in torturing myself with fear between now and then. I’m going to just be. Just be.

  When she finally emerged, Willow dried and curled her hair as November sat wrapped in a thick bathrobe. It was all oddly maternal. I feel like I’m getting ready for the prom . . . the evil death prom. “It really isn’t going to be that bad, November. Everyone tells me that the only pain is the initial bite. Then there might be a little nausea or dizziness, and then you’ll feel a little cold. But once you start drinking his blood, you’ll be warm and you’ll just sort of drift off.”

  “That’s not the part I’m afraid of,” November replied quietly as Willow’s deft hands styled her dark hair.

  “You’re afraid of what comes after?” Willow asked sympathetically.

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t be alone. We’ll teach you how to feed, how to enthrall, how to survive,” Willow reassured her.

  You aren’t the ones I want helping me! All she said out loud was, “I don’t want to be a part of his war.”

  “You won’t be on the front lines, November, and I doubt there’s going to be much of a war. With Ilyn and William gone, our people will coalesce around Luka, and he intends to welcome all comers to his government regardless of their previous loyalties. Even Savita has contacted him.”

  That bit of intelligence made November’s heart skip a beat. How could Savita possibly be on Luka’s side? She must be deceiving him. She elected to reserve judgment until she had more information. Of course, November alone knew that Ilyn still walked among the living, fully capable of putting up quite a fight.

  Willow continued, “And as for the rest of Luka’s plans, they will unfold slowly with a minimum of bloodshed. Humans are a valuable resource, after all.” November elected to say nothing, swallowing her horror, knowing that Willow was incapable of understanding her concerns for human beings and werewolves.