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  It took a few seconds for Caitlin’s eyes to adjust to the dark of the room. When Sullivan walked instinctively to the curtains and pulled them wide, a torrent of silver swarmed into the room in muted tones. The moon was free of its clouds and did its best to shine through the grime-covered glass of the windows.

  Caitlin raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  The room was essentially empty. A cabinet stood on one side of the room and a sofa on the other. It looked like an ancient living room but devoid of anything that made it worth locking.

  “Well…this was pointless,” Caitlin said.

  Hank’s nostrils flared.

  “Sullivan, don’t touch that!” Dylan hissed as he saw Sullivan move to the corner where a small vase stood on a pedestal.

  Sullivan jumped, turned, and his arm knocked into the pedestal. The vase wobbled precariously on its perch, and before he could move to stop it, it tumbled to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces.

  “And you worried about me making noises,” Hank muttered. “At least I’m not smashing family heirlooms. That might’ve been a nice gift for the governor to have taken from the vampire’s home. He likes his souvenirs, ain’t that right?”

  Hendrick nodded stupidly at Hank, unaware that Caitlin, Hank, and Dylan were all now staring at where Victor had stood a moment before.

  Victor had gone, now. Standing in his place was a woman with dark skin and black hair. Her green eyes caught the twinkle of the moonlight, shining with an eerie glow. She studied them each in turn.

  She smiled at Caitlin, nodding ever so slightly. “We meet again.”

  “W-wha—” Hank stuttered, before clearing his throat and regaining his confidence. “Where’s Victor?”

  “Your friend is…indisposed.” She cocked her head to the side. The room was tense and still. The woman looked at the pile of shattered china fragments on the floor. “That was my great-uncle’s.”

  “I’m…sorry,” Sullivan whispered, his throat gone dry.

  The vampire shrugged. “No sense dwelling on the past.” She turned to Hank. “And while I appreciate you admiring the beauty of my family’s heirlooms, I’d highly advise that you tell your…governor…to keep his spunk-covered hands off my things, and maybe stay the fuck off Mary-Anne’s land before she finds her way to your shitty excuse for a town and kills him herself.”

  Hank’s face colored with rage. “Is that a threat?”

  “No. It’s a promise,” Mary-Anne said.

  Hank’s eyes were thoughtful. Clearly, he considered various approach tactics. Caitlin felt her brother crouch slightly beside her, coiling as if ready to strike. Hendrick slowly pulled out his own sword and moved into a fighting stance.

  Caitlin felt for her sword. Mary-Anne’s eyes flickered to Caitlin’s hip, then her eyes. A slight flash of betrayal shone from the green.

  “Five of us. One of you, vamp.” Hank grinned, reached to his hip with his spare hand, and pulled out a wooden stake the size of a small blade. “I like those odds.”

  Mary-Anne rolled her eyes. “I see how it is,” she said, fangs appearing in her mouth. “If it’s a fight you want, then let’s get started.”

  She cracked her neck and took a stance. “Okay, bitches. Who’s first?”

  Chapter Seven

  Carter Manor, Silver Creek Forest

  There was a moment of silent tension before Hank charged. He roared at the top of his voice and slashed at Mary-Anne.

  She twirled, spinning out of the way of his advance. Hank stumbled forward and took a moment to regain his balance.

  “Ah, humans. Such simple creatures,” Mary-Anne said as her nails grew to sharp points.

  “Don’t just stand there, get her!” Hank shouted, his face twisted with rage.

  Caitlin looked at her brother, feeling torn. Did she want to bring harm to Mary-Anne?

  No.

  Did she want to risk not helping and later being delivered to Trisk to be slaughtered because she hadn’t held up her end of the bargain?

  No. She had her honor.

  Did she want to risk not being prepared to attack and having Mary-Anne kill her where she stood?

  No.

  Mary-Anne was still a vampire after all.

  Dylan silently communicated similar thoughts, then took his own swing.

  This time, she narrowly avoided the cut, stepping sideways as the rusted blade nicked at her skin.

  Hendrick came from the other side. Sullivan joined the fray. Mary-Anne danced in the middle and swerved, ducked, and twisted away from each attack as it came.

  At one point, Hendrick tripped over Hank’s foot and toppled over, smashing into Sullivan, who groaned. He pushed Hendrick off him, and the two giants stood side-by-side, panting.

  Mary-Anne found herself in a corner at the far side of the room. Her speed was impressive, though Caitlin noted that she now panted heavily, as though she had been running for several hours.

  Undaunted, she cracked her knuckles and stretched. “That reminds me,” she said, looking at her wrist as if checking something that wasn’t there, “it’s about time I booked another aerobics class.”

  Hank grinned, and a small cut at the side of his mouth oozed blood. He licked his lips. “Little vampire stuck in the corner, eh? Bad move all around, wouldn’t you say, Hendrick?”

  Hendrick nodded, his face dark and shadowed as he struggled to keep his anger controlled. As a giant amongst guards, he no doubt wasn’t used to being dodged and thrown around. He had his pride, and his pride had been wounded.

  “Why don’t we make a deal?” Hank said as he signaled for everyone to gather closer and trap Mary-Anne in the corner. “You tell us where you’ve hidden our comrade, and we’ll make this nice and easy on you. Come along quietly. Come along willingly, before this turns ugly.”

  Mary-Anne placed a hand on her chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it had turned ugly from the moment you walked into the room.”

  Caitlin struggled to hide her laugh.

  “Here’s the thing—” Mary-Anne began.

  “Fuck this, bitch!” Hendrick called, seemingly pushed beyond the limit by the vampire insulting his boss. He charged at Mary-Anne, screaming in a voice hoarse with rage.

  Hank laughed, waiting for the moment of triumph to see the vampire pinned to the wall by a sword. Like all of them, he’d no doubt heard the legends that vampires had healing powers. No doubt he assumed she’d be fine in the end, no matter what happened to her now.

  Caitlin watched, mouth open, as everything moved in slow motion.

  Mary-Anne ran forward, one leg rising off the ground to meet Hendrick’s thigh. With unmatched speed, she kicked off into the air, grabbing his head in both her hands and somersaulting over his body, using her grip on his face as leverage to twist her back around in a delicious one-eighty. She landed softly on her feet and ripped the wooden stake from Hank’s hand. Then, as Hendrick crashed into the wall, exploded forward and stabbed the stake through his trousers, stopping when the stake was so far up his ass that she couldn’t shove it any further.

  Hendrick screeched in pain. Hank stood open-mouthed.

  “Ah, shit,” Sullivan murmured, growing pale.

  Mary-Anne stood, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion of her attack. When she spoke, her voice was breathy. “Okay, fuckers. You’ve seen what I can do. Who still thinks they have what it takes to take me on?”

  That was the moment it all changed.

  As Mary-Anne finished talking, she doubled over, placing her hands on her knees. Caitlin watched with pity growing inside her.

  In all the texts she’d seen and stories she’d heard, vampires had been noble creatures, full of vibrant life, strength, and power. Able to operate during the night for hours at a time, they had been the unchallenged kings and queens of the midnight hour.

  That’s was how it had been when Mary-Anne had saved her before. Until this point, Caitlin could have sworn nothing had changed.

  Now, Mary-Anne l
ooked ill, as though there was no fuel inside her to keep her going. Her attack on Hendrick seemed to have drained her considerably, and Caitlin didn’t know what would help her. She was by no means weak—after all, could Hank, Sullivan, or Dylan move like that?

  No.

  But Hank must have realized it as soon Caitlin did. The vampire was on the back foot.

  And now, Sullivan took his turn. He lunged forward and kicked Mary-Anne in the stomach. A harsh sound of expelled air came from her mouth.

  The kick moved her closer to Dylan, who pulled a length of rope from his pocket and jumped Mary-Anne, pulled her down, and straddled her, attempting to tie her up so they could drag her home.

  Mary-Anne wriggled and writhed beneath Dylan.

  “Don’t fuck her. Tie her down,” Hank roared, his face a painting of delicious triumph.

  Mary-Anne spat at Dylan and screeched, her eyes glowing the brightest they’d ever been. She shouted and shoved Dylan backward.

  He flew across the room, his back smacking into the window and sending cracks spiderwebbing up the panes.

  Hendrick groaned in the corner. He tugged at the stake in his ass, moaning and sobbing.

  Mary-Anne moved away from Dylan and Hank towards Caitlin.

  Hank’s eyes flashed as they met Caitlin’s. “Well, what the fuck are you standing around for, bitch? Grab her!”

  Caitlin, sensing danger now that she was within arm’s reach of the vampire, pulled her cloak to the side and revealed the gleaming blade of the old world.

  There was an audible gasp from Hank. The moonlight sang off the sword’s body, and suddenly, Caitlin seemed to find her bravery. Her heart pounded in her chest.

  For half a second, she saw the light in Mary-Anne’s eyes fade as they exchanged a look. Was Mary-Anne trying to communicate something to her? Caitlin felt torn. What had the vampire ever done to deserve this attack?

  “Harrison!” Hank called, running a finger across his neck to reinforce his point.

  Caitlin hesitated, torn between two choices—To capture, or not to capture. Which one was worse? She fought in her head, arguing both sides until she heard Dylan’s voice pleading and whispering behind her.

  “Cat…”

  She steeled herself.

  “Okay, Count Bitchula. It’s time to play.”

  “With my sword?” Mary-Anne asked. “Now, that hardly seems fair, does it?”

  “Fair doesn’t exist in this world,” Caitlin said, swinging at Mary-Anne. The vampire dove across the room and retrieved Hendrick’s rusty sword which he had dropped when he lost his anal-virginity.

  Dylan came from the left, slashing and attacking, driving Mary-Anne back into the center of the room. Their swords chimed the music of battle.

  Mary-Anne seemed to draw from some fuel reserves deep within. Sullivan joined in, then Caitlin, and before they knew what was happening, the room was filled with a blur of clashing metal.

  The vampire was incredible. Though her grunts and gasps were loud as she struggled for breath, she never gave up. Caitlin threw a few slashes herself, but more from the fear of Hank seeing that she wasn’t involved than from wanting to do any real damage.

  At one point, Mary-Anne launched herself at Caitlin and ended up sitting on top of her. The move was so fast that it took a second for Dylan and Sullivan to realize that she was no longer standing there, an apparently easy target.

  “You fight with honor,” Mary-Anne whispered into her ear so quietly and with such speed that Caitlin wondered if she were hearing things. “I will not kill you this night, should you make the wise decision. These men are holding you back. Come with me, and I will train you. I will teach you. I will show you that the world is far more than just wooden walls and patriarchy. Just say the word.”

  “Cat!” Dylan cried as Mary-Anne rolled off Caitlin and avoided another boot from Sullivan.

  Mary-Anne moved to the other side of the room and tried her best to gather her breath. Sullivan turned and pursued, lumbering across the room like a giant chasing a butterfly.

  “Cat, are you okay?” Dylan said, appearing at Caitlin’s side. He reached down and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet in one swift move.

  Caitlin took a moment to evaluate the situation.

  Hendrick was now up, stumbling along the wall with one hand held out like a blind man and the other wrapped around his ass. Sullivan was engaged in combat with Mary-Anne, and Hank was poised in the corner, watching everything unfolding before him, crouched and awaiting his moment to strike.

  Letting the ‘disposables’ do the governor’s dirty work? Is that your tactic?

  “Cat?” Dylan pressed, deep concern in his eyes.

  Caitlin turned, “Bet you’re regretting not training me now,” she said, winking at her brother.

  Dylan rolled his eyes.

  “What’s the plan of action?” Caitlin asked.

  Sullivan grunted across the room as Mary-Anne kicked him again. This time, the kick was feebler, only serving to shove him back a few steps.

  “What else can we do? Keep fighting until she’s exhausted, then drag her back,” Dylan said. “It’s either that or we die.”

  “Or we die fighting her,” Caitlin added.

  They watched as Sullivan moved to slash with his sword. Mary-Anne moved to counter it, but he managed to sneak in a jab with his left hand. His hammer of a fist connected with her face and knocked her to the floor.

  Caitlin gasped.

  Sullivan towered over the vampire, his sword in hand, poised to strike and stab her through the heart. Caitlin’s hand moved to her mouth. She wondered at that moment if anyone had thought to mention to Sullivan that she was to be kept alive?

  “Sullivan, no!” Caitlin shouted.

  She had never seen this side of him. Outside of combat, Sullivan was a gentle giant. She had never understood why he was so valuable to Dylan on patrol, but now she saw the truth. He obeyed commands. He had power. He would do what needed to be done to protect them.

  “Sullivan, halt!” Dylan commanded from beside her. His voice boomed with authority.

  To Caitlin’s relief, Sullivan stopped. His sword fell limply to his side.

  Hank’s nostrils flared. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He marched across the room to where Mary-Anne lay on the floor. He took his own sword, raised it high, and drove it down towards her.

  Which was the exact same moment Caitlin came flying at him. Her mind had resolved into clarity, her decision made. She leaped through the air, her shoulder smashing into Hank’s midsection. The sword flew off course, clattering against the wall.

  Hank’s weight slammed onto the floor, and she scrambled to climb off him, running as fast as she could to Mary-Anne’s side.

  Sullivan couldn’t understand what was happening.

  Dylan stood, frozen.

  Caitlin crouched at Mary-Anne’s side. “The word. Here. I’m saying the word.”

  No matter what happened in Silver Creek or what pressure she was under from the governor, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sentence someone who had saved her own life to that of torture and abuse by that man. It wasn’t right.

  Where was the justice in that?

  Mary-Anne turned slowly. “Are you sure?”

  Caitlin spared a look at Dylan. “Yes.”

  “Why, you slimy little cock-handling slut—” Hank began as he picked himself up.

  In one final grunt of effort, Mary-Anne rose to her feet. “Climb on,” she said, presenting her back to Caitlin.

  Caitlin complied. A second later, they darted from the room.

  Somewhere, Silver Creek Forest

  Trees blurred past them as Mary-Anne sped clumsily along at a pace that was alarming, given that she was clearly struggling to keep her strength. She navigated the darkness like it was floodlit but threatened to topple and fall at any moment.

  “Are we there yet?” Caitlin shouted into her ear.

  “Where do you think we’re going?”

&n
bsp; Caitlin thought. “Wherever the hell you’re taking me.”

  “You sound just like my late nephew. He was as impatient as…ooof!”

  Mary-Anne’s words cut off as her foot caught on something hard on the forest floor. They both flew several feet through the air before crashing down on a dewy bed of leaves and moss.

  “What the hell?” Caitlin spluttered. She tasted dirt in her mouth and clawed at her tongue until it was clean.

  Mary-Anne rolled onto her back, staring at the sky. The moon was high, and the trees were tall. An owl hooted somewhere nearby.

  Caitlin crawled over to Mary-Anne. “Are you okay?”

  To her surprise, Mary-Anne began to laugh. Gently, at first, then rising and bubbling like a brook that became a river. The sound was beautiful but somber, and all too soon, Caitlin joined in.

  It hurt to laugh, and Caitlin clutched her sides, feeling the tired muscles and the bruises from the vampire’s iron grip as they had run.

  When they eventually began to settle down, Mary-Anne sat up. “You fight well, flesh sack. Tell me. How did you learn to fight like that?”

  Caitlin scoffed. “Me? Fight well?” She brushed the dirt off her shoulders. “Boy, you must really be tired. No. Hank, Dylan, Sullivan, they fight well. Even you struggled to keep up with them.”

  “Ah, but if that’s all it took to make someone a good swordsman, the world would be full of them. Men without technique. Men without finesse. Men who use their brute strength and not their heads, yet…you…”

  Caitlin blushed. “I hardly touched you. I held back.”

  “For which I’m eternally grateful,” Mary-Anne said, bowing as she sat, her hand clutched to the stitch in her stomach. “Yet, in all my years, I’ve never seen a human with such natural posture. You hold that blade as if it’s a part of you. Even your soldiers can’t match that.”

  Mary-Anne chuckled, then took in a deep hiss of breath.

  Caitlin moved to Mary-Anne’s side, wanting to help in some way but not sure how.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine,” Mary-Anne protested.