《Runa》 1 - Darkness Approaches I never fully understood my aunt. She had a habit of only telling half the story. "Don''t let your guard down Runa!" she quipped, dashing at me, knife raised. I brought my own dagger up, blocking her strike. The force of her blow made my arms ache, the clang of metal clashing ringing in my ears. Sweat slicked my hair to my face as I gritted my teeth and twisted away, blocking three more strikes. My heart pounded in my ears as I gasped for breath, my body moving without thinking. She was so fast. "Attack me! Don''t just sit there and block! I haven''t got all day," my aunt growled, lunging at me again. This time she knocked me to the ground. I hit the thin black mats that covered the concrete basement floor with a thump, wincing. My aunt''s blade nicked my arm, drawing drops of crimson blood. I brought my knife up, trying to stab the dull blade into her chest. She danced back, letting me scramble to my feet. She darted forward again, so fast my eyes couldn''t track the movement. She was there one second, in my face the next. I tried to move back, slashing at her arms with my blade, but it was too late. My aunt rammed the hilt of her knife into my chest. The force knocked me off my feet, and I hit the floor with a thump. I gasped for air, coughing and sputtering, every inch of my body burning with pain. "That''s enough for today," my aunt said, leaning over and peering down at me. I forced myself to my feet, hissing in pain. "You''ve only beaten me five times today, Aunt Bree. I can keep going." My aunt frowned. "Runa, you know you can''t keep up with me. It''s been about half an hour, so your time is up." "You worry too much," I said, pushing my sweat-soaked hair out of my eyes and shaking out my arms, still tingling from the force of Aunt Bree''s strikes. Small cuts and larger bruises covered my arms, but I could not feel them yet. Adrenaline ran through me in waves and my magic pooled around me as I eyed my aunt''s stance, preparing for any surprise attack that might come my way. Aunt Bree sighed, then held out her hand. "Blade." I handed her the practice knife I had been using. Blood had dripped onto the handle, and was starting to dry. She took a knife kit from the shelves above the washer and dryer and started cleaning the practice blade in the sink. I''m not a child anymore." I gritted my teeth and started up the stairs. "I know my own limits." I could hear my aunt tisking at me as I reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the living room. If I had normal magic like Aunt Bree, she wouldn''t worry so much about my limits. She''d push me hard like she did with her students when she taught classes at the local temple. But while my mother was a wolf shifter like my aunt, my father was fey. Normally, the two magics of my parents would intertwine, creating something new. Or, more rarely, one magic might dominate the other. But I was an anomaly, a "halfling" with broken magic. I got half of each parent''s magic, at half the strength of a full-blooded fey or shifter. Like oil and water, the two halves of my magic never mixed either.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I stretched my aching arms, then paused in front of the little shrine. Aunt Bree had been burning incense in front of it today, leaving the hallway with a spicy, sweet smell. The altar was set up on top of a small bookshelf positioned in the hallway, between Ant Bree and my bedroom doors. The shrine was a simple blue-black box decorated with the moon in all its phases. :Little figurines of Noctarion, the god of vampires, Kaelyndra, the goddess of magical humans, and Solvyn, the god of humans stood on little shelves at the back of the box. A slightly larger figurine of Lunareth, the head god, stood in the front and center of the box, the figurines for Thalyra, goddess of the shifters, and Eryndor, god of fey, set to each side and slightly back. Our religious books and supplies, as well as books on magic and the supernatural lined the three shelves below the shrine. I traced a circle around my heart with my finger as I inclined my head at the altar, offering up a small prayer to the gods. Please help me get stronger so Aunt Bree doesn''t worry so much. *** I stretched and yawned as I padded through the little house Aunt Bree and I rented. The sun was just cresting over the horizon, though a thick haze fractured the light and made the morning seem dark and cold. The fog muffled the sounds of the world, as if I was in a pocket of another world. A true Minnesota summer morning I wonder if this is what the fey realm feels like. I paused in front of the fridge, a bright yellow sticky note catching my eye. Aunt Bree had left a chore list before leaving for her night shift at work, apparently. I opened the fridge, ignoring it. I had all day to finish. No school! I was finally done for the year! I hummed as I studied my breakfast options. The front door opened and closed softly. I perked up. "Aunt Bree? Are you back already?" I closed the fridge door and turned to face the direction of the front door, just out of view. A squelch echoed through the empty house. Soft, sickening, and so, very wrong. My heart hammered in my chest as I backed into the counter. I could feel the magic in me tensing for a fight. I frantically reached behind me, blindly searching for something, anything. A slithering, slimy sound filled my mind, grotesque and sickening. My hand found the knife block. A dark, dripping mass the size of a large dog entered the kitchen. The black tar of its body, so dark it seemed to draw in all the light, bubbled. It filled the kitchen with the smell of burning and death. And its eyes. Its eyes, somehow even darker than its body, shone with a bloodlust that froze me in place. This creature... I shook my head and pulled out the largest kitchen knife from the knife block. I held it in front of me, my hands shaking with adrenaline. My instincts screamed at me to run. To fight. To do anything. The creature drew closer, its paws reaching out to me. It muttered in its language, a dark and guttural chant. "Come to me. Come to me," it seemed to say. I lunged at the creature, slashing at it with my dagger. It cried out in pain, recoiling as red mist leaked out of the gash I had made. I jumped onto one of the kitchen chairs. The monster drew closer. I jumped off the chair and drove the blade into the creature''s head. It writhed and screamed, its red mist blood filling the room. I drew back, covering my mouth as the room turned red. My head spun, and I fell to my knees. I... need... to leave... A young man about my age stepped through the fog. He was tall, with wavy dark brown hair, pale skin, and eyes the color of dried blood. He wore dark grey dress pants as well as a matching vest over a white button down shirt, and a cape that matched his eyes and resembled a suit coat. The man crouched beside me, studying me with disinterest. My vision was beginning to blur, darkness creeping in on the edges. He opened his mouth to speak, revealing a set of small but very sharp fangs. A vampire. A small dagger suddenly protruded from the man''s right arm. He looked down at his arm, then up past me, his face paling. The man scrambled to his feet and ran out the front door, gripping his injured arm. "Runa!" Aunt Bree pulled me to my feet, hugging me to her. "It''s ok. You''re safe now," she whispered. I could feel the rage boiling inside her, like a caged beast desperate to claim its prey. "I''m fine," I managed to mumble through the haze. I... just need... to sleep... My eyes closed, and I let the thick haze drag me into the darkness that clouded my vision, too tired to resist any longer. Chapter 2 I blinked slowly, my eyes heavy. It was dark. So dark. Like the darkness of the grotesque creature. I shivered at the thought and sat up slowly, stretching. My mind was fuzzy, and my limbs felt a bit heavy and clumsy. A bitter cottony feeling filled my mouth, and my throat felt so dry, it burned. That mist must have been a sedative. That guy¡­ Wait! The only vampire houses are up near Duluth. What was he doing down near the twin cities? Frowning, I channeled my magic, twisting it into a small orb of light. The soft glow illuminated the small room. An unfamiliar bedroom, by the looks of it, just big enough to house the bed I was sitting on, a small nightstand with a lamp, and a closet. The closet door was partially open, and I could see several familiar large black-and-yellow containers. The containers were what we packed in when we moved. I turned on the lamp that rested on the nightstand, extinguishing the small magical light. Someone, probably my aunt, had arranged my phone and a glass of water beside the lamp I picked up the glass, studying it before drinking it. The glass was unfamiliar, just like the small room. Where am I? The door burst open and Aunt Bree flew into the room. I jumped at her sudden entry, nearly spilling water all over myself. ¡°You¡¯re finally awake,¡± she said, letting out an audible sigh of relief as she drew closer. ¡°You had me worried sick. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything? You look pale.¡± She pressed her hand against my forehead, checking for a fever. I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat. ¡°Stop hovering. I¡¯m fine. It was a sedative, not a poison.¡± ¡°Then you won¡¯t mind answering some questions?¡± A man asked. I looked up. A man stood in the doorway, holding a small notebook and pen. He was tall, with wild black curls, dark eyes, and dark skin. He wore jeans and a black sweater, and was about as old as Aunt Bree. ¡°Really, Mr. Wilder?¡± she asked, turning to face him. ¡°My niece only just woke up, and she¡¯s been asleep for almost sixteen hours.¡± ¡°I need to make this report, and the girl claims she is fine,¡± Mr. Wilder said, a hint of exasperation coloring his voice. ¡°I¡¯ll answer the questions,¡± I said, setting down my glass of water. ¡°You¡¯re making a report of the attack?¡± Mr. Wilder nodded. ¡°I need to know everything you remember.¡± ¡°There was a monster,¡± I started. ¡°I killed it but released an airborne sedative that was trapped inside its body. Then a man came in. Maybe a little older than me, not wearing any visible symbols or crests, and a vampire. Then Aunt Bree threw a dagger at him, which hit his arm. Then he fled and I fell unconscious." ¡°A vampire?¡± Mr. Wilder asked. ¡°Are you sure? .¡± I nodded. ¡°I saw his fangs and his eyes clearly. He was a vampire.¡± The silent implication seemed to loom over me, like a monster I could feel but not see. Vampires had to feed off the life sources of living creatures to survive. That¡¯s where the human myth that vampires fed on blood came from. They also lived a very long time, four or five hundred years, just like fey. Their houses, tribe-like communities that rallied around a single, strong vampire family, were everything to them. And they were always looking for ways to increase their standing and power in the vampire world. So, when a vampire came knocking on another supernatural being¡¯s door, be it fey, shifter, or magical human, it was for only one thing. Dinner. I was being hunted by vampires. Probably because they thought my life force was special in some way. Which meant I had become a target for a group of merciless, ruthless, lawless beings that would enslave me if given the chance. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I groaned as reality sank in. ¡°I¡¯m doomed.¡± ¡°You are not doomed,¡± Aunt Bree said. ¡°We¡¯re staying here, in Brightcreek, at least until you turn eighteen. After that, we¡¯ll go join a pack that can protect you.¡± Brightcreek was a supernatural settlement in South Dakota, a town in the middle of nowhere and the home of South Dakota¡¯s main temple. I had heard of it, but had never visited. It was one of those places most people didn¡¯t think twice about. I turned eighteen in just under a month. We would likely be safe enough here. As for the new pack¡­ I forced a smile. ¡°Great.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been years since we¡¯ve stayed in a supernatural community for more than a few days,¡± Aunt Bree added. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun.¡± *** A month later, three days after my eighteenth birthday, Aunt Bree and I walked across the parking lot of South Dakota¡¯s lunar temple. I was dressed in a simple white gown, my hair loose and my feet bare. The lunar temple was a large, grand building, filled with pillars and statues like Greek temples of old. It was all white, even the etched glass that displayed dazzling scenes from the holy book, and stood at the far end of the town of Brightcreek. Green mountains surrounded the space, hemming it in like a wall, and six gardens, each dedicated to one of the gods, surrounded the temple. Each garden contained a temple dedicated to its god. A chapel for marriages and such, a small library, and a large indoor fountain for ceremonies. The temple grounds were always filled with people, but today especially so. It was the full moon after all, the most holy day of the lunar cycle. Priests and priestesses bustling about their work, students relaxing between classes, pilgrims praying, and townspeople and visitors touring the gardens. And people like me, dressed in white, preparing for ceremonies. ¡°Are you sure you want to do this in Thalyra¡¯s temple?¡± Aunt Bree asked. I nodded. ¡°It makes the most sense.¡± It was the first full moon after I turned eighteen. That meant it was time for my coming of age ritual, a sacred ceremony that would fully bring me into the faith as an official member of the Lunarethe. ¡°We can still ask to have the ceremony in the temple of Kaelyndra or Eryndor,¡± Aunt Bree said, resting her hand on my shoulder as we made our way through the gardens. ¡°Don¡¯t feel you have to choose Tharlyra for me.¡± Usually the coming of age ceremony was done at the lunar temple of your region, in the temple of the god of your species. Those with mixed heritage who had inherited both parents¡¯ magic, like me, picked according to their dominant magic. I was an anomaly, however, and possessed equal strength in both halves. I was too different from magical humans, but not enough of a fey or a shifter for anyone¡¯s liking. A misfit, a being with powers that probably shouldn¡¯t have existed. ¡°I chose the goddess of shifters, Thalyra,¡± I said. ¡°I have very little connections to my fey heritage, so it made sense.¡± As much as Lord Finne won¡¯t admit it, I¡¯m culturally more werewolf than fey. My magic tutor here at the temple had been extremely displeased with my choice. Though I was extremely displeased with him teaching fey mannerisms more than spell work, so our contempt for each other was about even. Aunt Bree nodded, and we joined a large group of shifters my age heading to Thalyra¡¯s temple. I took in the gardens, filled with native trees and shrubs and flowers. Though the path was paved in flat, smooth river stone, Thalyra¡¯s garden was designed to look like a forest. Fountains carved from smooth rock, stone and wood benches, and roughly hewn statues dotted the sides of the path as it wound around and branched off, giving the space a labyrinth-like feel. We reached Thalyra¡¯s temple, a smaller version of the lunar temple, and filed inside. A gaggle of priests and priestesses directed the chaos of 60 or so 18-year-olds and their families. All wore green and white garb decorated with the first quarter moon, the color and symbol of Thalyra. All except one, who wore the bronze-colored garb decorated with waxing crescents. The garb of a priestess of Eryndor, god of fey. Next to her stood my temporary magic teacher, Lord Finne. What on earth are they doing here? The priestess, who was definitely fey with her height, pointed ears, and purple hair, caught my eye and smiled. She grabbed Lord Finne by the arm and dragged him over to me. ¡°You must be Runa! It¡¯s so good to finally meet you!¡± she said, her voice cheery. ¡°I¡¯m Priestess Lilana, and I serve Eryndor, god of fey.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ nice to meet you?¡± I said. ¡°When my husband told me about you, I knew I had to come help with your predicament,¡± Priestess Lilana continued, ignoring my confusion and kissing Lord Finne on the cheek. Is she going to try to convince me to do the ceremony in her temple? And wait, is Lord Finne married to a priestess? How did I not know this? I could feel Aunt Bree tense behind me, angry. She also wasn¡¯t a huge fan of Lord Finne. Not after he tried to lecture her on not giving me a proper fey upbringing, anyways. ¡°I have the answer to all your problems,¡± Priestess Lilana fished two golden chalices out of a massive pocket in her priestess garb. ¡°We¡¯ll just kill two birds with one stone.¡± Chapter 3 I held two golden chalices, one in each hand. Each was elaborate, made of solid gold, the rim decorated with colored gems in the shapes of the moon phases. A chalice rimmed with green and etched with the first quarter moon, the second a coppery color and etched with waxing crescents. A chalice for Thalyra and a chalice for Eryndor. In front of me spanned a large, square pool sunk into the floor, about a foot deep. It was tiled with greens and purples, and spanned most of the large room. Across from it sat rows of benches, filled with spectators. On the other side of the fountain stood two large pedestals holding bowls filled with crackling fire. The alters. The smoke from the fires was vented out by a massive open window in the ceiling above them, keeping the air clean though heavily scented with incense. Beyond the altars were all the other participants in the ceremony, watching me with the intensity of hunters watching their prey. Priestess Lilana smiled, giving me a slight nod. I stepped forward, letting her and a priest of Thalyra pour red wine into my chalices. My hands were sweaty, and my heart pounded in my ears. Don¡¯t drop them. Don¡¯t drop them. The priest and Priestess Lilana stepped back. Here we go. I raised the chalices above my head and stepped down into the pool. The cool water lapped against my legs as I slowly walked across the pool, head and chalices held high. Don¡¯t trip, please don¡¯t trip. The soft candle light that lit the room, as well as the light of the altar fire, danced across the water¡¯s surface. The expanse of water seemed to go on forever, never ending. But then I was at the other end, stepping onto the stone floor of the ceremonial chambers once more, and approaching the altars. I kneeled in front of the two altars and began a mish-mash of the sacred prayer. ¡°Oh Thalyra, Oh, Eryndor, goddess of shifters and god of fey, lead me to Lunareth. Grant me your hope and wisdom, heed my prayers, and protect me from the darkness. When it is time, plead for your child to your father and guide me to the Luminous Veil. I vow to serve you, Thalyra, and you, Eryndor for all the days of my life. Let my time on this world bring light to the darkness, and may you use me for good and not forsake me, your daughter.¡± I looked up at the sky through the skylight as I stood. The full moon was just visible through the open window, shining onto my face. I poured the wine from the chalices onto the altars. The flames grew, dancing as they consumed the alcohol. I bowed before the altars and walked around them, taking my place at the back of the line. A priestess collected my chalices, and the priest and Priestess Lilana made offerings of salt and wine to their patron gods, closing the ceremony. With the ceremony over we all filed out of the temple. The sky was dark but strings of light illuminated the path enough to see. ¡°Thank you, Priestess Lilana, for the ceremony,¡± Aunt Bree said as we joined the couple. ¡°It was lovely.¡± ¡°It is important for fey children to know and understand their heritage,¡± Priestess Lilana said, grinning. ¡°And it¡¯s so rare for a halfling to be born, it was surely my only opportunity.¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. We made our way through the gardens as Aunt Bree, Lord Finne, and Priestess Lilana chatted amongst themselves. ¡°We¡¯ve decided on a local pack,¡± Aunt Bree was saying. ¡°I enjoy being so close to the lunar temple.¡± ¡°The temple will gladly take Runa on as a student of the faith, after her high-school graduation,¡± Priestess Lilana said. I rolled my eyes, unseen by the adults as I was walking behind them. I wasn¡¯t popular among the local youths as I was divided between too many worlds. Too human for some, not human enough for others. Not good enough for the prodigies, but still outperforming the regular students enough to be disliked. New and different and a halfling. An anomaly. I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to stay in a place like this. Will you have a choice? I paused at a statue of Thalyra, then made the sign of the moon and bowed my head. I had never planned for life after I graduated high school. I had never planned for a life apart from Aunt Bree. But I couldn¡¯t stay a child forever. I had always gone along a path set for me by others. I didn¡¯t know what happened when that went away. ¡°Give me wisdom, oh mother of shifters¡± I prayed. ¡°For I am lost and I don¡¯t know what to do or where to go next.¡± I straightened and turned to return to Aunt Bree. A flash of white caught the corner of my eye. I turned, looking past the statue of Thalyra. I could barely make out a figure in the forest garden, kneeling beside a small reflecting pool nestled into the trees. Something about the posture of the person seemed almost sad, or resigned. Like the person had given up hope. A sign from the goddess? I turned and looked down the path. Aunt Bree and the others were already out of sight. My heart tugged at me. It was none of my business. I knew I shouldn¡¯t interfere. But something told me I was needed. I stepped into the forest, picking my way through the trees. Though I made a fair amount of sound, the person didn¡¯t move. All I could see was the dark cloak they hid under. I sat beside the figure. A man, now that I could see him better, and younger, based on his hands. His head was bowed and covered by a cloak, so I couldn¡¯t see his face. ¡°What a lovely night,¡± I said, keeping my voice soft and, hopefully, soothing. ¡°I love the full moon. It is certainly a cause for celebration every month.¡± The man gave a small nod, not lifting his head. The silence stretched on. I need to finish this up and get back to Aunt Bree before she panics. But¡­ The air around this man felt dark and heavy somehow. Like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. ¡°Is there anything I can do to help?¡± I asked. A slight shake of the head was the only answer I got. ¡°What a shame,¡± I said, leaning back and looking up at the sky. ¡°I¡¯m fairly decent at fixing things.¡± I counted in my head as we sat in silence. 28¡­ 29¡­ 30. Well, if he won¡¯t talk I should probably head back¡ª ¡°Have¡­ have you ever felt trapped?¡± the man asked. His voice was melodic and soft, comforting yet somehow desperate. ¡°Just before I saw you I was feeling very trapped, actually.¡± I said, straightening. I didn¡¯t mean to say that. He was just so¡­ sad. Lonely too, perhaps. Just looking at him made me want to give him a hug. I hesitated, then reached out and rested my hand on his upper arm, rubbing it. The man flinched at my touch, hissing in pain and clutching his arm. ¡°Oh!¡± I said, startled by the reaction. ¡°I apologize,¡± the man said, looking up at me for the first time. ¡°I¡­¡± We both froze as our eyes met. His eyes¡­ the color of dried blood. It was the man from the attack a month ago. I was comforting my potential killer. Chapter 4 I scramble to my feet, backing up as the man did the same. A cold, empty expression fell across his face as he adjusted his cloak. His posture shifted, straightening. ¡°I will not break the law of refuge,¡± the man said, his voice cold and haughty. With a flourish of his cloak, he turned and stalked away from me, not looking back. My heart pounded in my chest and my hands shook as I picked my way through the forest, cursing my lack of shoes and my terrible luck. Definitely not a sign from the goddess. Perhaps it was a sign I should just become a priestess and be done with the matter. I stepped onto the path just as Aunt Bree rounded the corner. ¡°There you are!¡± she said, grabbing my wrist. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking everywhere for you. We need to go now if we want to attend the midnight service.¡± I jogged to keep up with Aunt Bree¡¯s fast pace. ¡°I was thinking,¡± I said. ¡°What now, dear?¡± ¡°Maybe studying to be a priestess is a good idea after all.¡± ¡°That¡¯s great! Of course, if you don¡¯t make it through your studies nothing¡¯s lost,¡± Aunt Bree said with a wide smile. ¡°Your parents would be proud you gave it a try.¡± I forced myself to smile. I really hope this is the right call. *** I couldn¡¯t concentrate on the midnight service, or sleep soundly that night. Every small noise in the night jolted me to attention, snapping my senses into focus and sending a rush of adrenaline through me. But that man didn¡¯t attack me. Not that night, or that next day, or the next night or day. I went about my steady routine: morning classes at the temple, then errands in town on my way back home and homework in the afternoons. Aunt Bree was out all day, working in a shop in town. Her friend Mr. Wilder stopped by most evenings for dinner, talking about the new pack we were joining, which he was also a part of. Soon more than a week passed without any sign of an attack. The second Thursday after the incident I found myself walking home from lessons once again. I shifted my hold on the grocery bags I carried as I ran through a mental list of chores. Groceries are picked up, library books are returned, and the documents delivered to Mr. Wilder at the newspaper. All done for the day. I walked along the path that led through a wooded park that cut through town. Just beyond it was home. A tree branch snapped, the sound echoing in the forest. I whirled around, heart pounding in my ears. That man stood three feet from me, a long dagger in his hand. His expression was dark and focused, as if honing in on his prey. I stumbled back, then gathered magic in my hands. I formed the energy into a flash of blindingly bright light, throwing it at the man¡¯s face and running down the path as fast as I could. It wasn¡¯t enough. I could hear him right behind me.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. I dropped my bags of groceries. The rounder contents of my bags¡ªcans and fruits and such¡ªrolled over the walking trail behind me. I gathered my magic in my hands, formless and wild, my mind straining to keep it in place as I ran. My lungs burned and my limbs felt like lead and it felt like I was running in slow motion. Faster. I need to go faster! The man materialized in front of me. I shrieked, tossing my magic at him without thinking. The raw power slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground. I kept running, turning off the main path and to one that wound behind the house. I could still sense that man running behind me. Even if I get to the house¡­ I gathered a mass of magic in my hands, shaping it into a mesmerizing spell. I wasn¡¯t very good at them, and they cost a lot of magical energy, but maybe I could get him to slow down. A soft, melodic tune filled the air, coming from my magic. Sleep. You want to sleep. I focused on the magic, bending and twisting it into complicated spellwork as I tried desperately to get that man to stop. I was getting dizzy now, the vertigo worsening with each second I grappled with my spell. Sleep. Please sleep. I stumbled, nearly faceplanting. As I corrected myself, the spell slipped from my grasp. Hands grabbed me by the neck, squeezing just enough to make me wheeze. I froze, eyes widening as I looked up to see a boy, no older than fifteen or sixteen, with wavy black hair, pale skin, and dark red eyes the color of dried blood. His face looked like that man¡¯s, but sharper and younger and¡­ meaner. And his clothes, a light grey suit, looked much like that man¡¯s too. The boy looked down his nose at me, his smile and eyes arrogant, as if I was nothing but a pest. Beyond the boy was a middle-aged woman, her greying black hair long and loose, her dried-blood red eyes shining as if she was a cat that had finally captured its prey. Her face was angular and very similar to the boy¡¯s. Her long grey skirt and white blouse matched the boy¡¯s suit, and she wore a burnt red pin with the crest of a house over her heart. The matron of a vampire house. And two of her relatives, probably her sons or nephews. Adrenaline surged through me, my shifter magic desperate to escape and free me. I couldn¡¯t breath, couldn¡¯t move. There was nothing. No opening. No way out. I clawed at the boy¡¯s hand as my lungs screamed ¡°Good job Narvi, dear,¡± the vampire matron said, her voice silky and sickly-sweet, cutting through my panic like a blade digging into my head. ¡°Excelent use of force and tactical maneuvering." ¡°Thank you, mother,¡± the boy said. ¡°Tarian!¡± the woman snapped, her voice suddenly harsh and biting. ¡°How could you, heir to my house, my own son, not manage to catch a young girl? Your brother has managed it just fine.¡± ¡°I apologize for my incompetence, mother,¡± that man said. ¡°Please punish me as you see fit.¡± The woman gritted her teeth. ¡°I will.¡± She turned on her heels. ¡°Narvi, darling, give her to your brother. He¡¯ll take care of her for now.¡± Narvi dropped me and I collapsed into a heap on the ground. I gasped for air, coughing and hacking so hard tears pricked my eyes. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t breathe. Go. Run. Leave. That man, Tarian, pulled me to my feet, holding my wrists in one hand. He pulled me forward, toward the road. No! No! No! ¡°Let go! Help! Somebody!¡± I screamed, digging my heels into the ground, wriggling to try and break free. My heart pounded in my ears as I struggled, my breaths ragged and I didn¡¯t want to be a slave to a vampire. I didn¡¯t want to go with them. But I wasn¡¯t strong enough. Tarian yanked on my wrists, dragging me onto a little side road. Two cars were parked in the street. Narvi opened the door to the nearest car. Tarian scooped me up and shoved me into the back seat of the car, closing the door behind me with a bang. I picked myself up and threw myself at the door. Locked. Tarian slid into the driver¡¯s seat and started the car. I lunged at him, reaching for the button to unlock the door. I slammed into something hard. A barrier? ¡°No one can hear or see you,¡± Tarian said, his gaze sharp as he looked back at me. ¡°If you wish to survive, you will cooperate.¡± I banged on the car window. ¡°Help! Help me! Somebody!¡± The car began to move forward as I yanked at the door handle, tears running down my face. There was nothing I could do. I was completely, utterly, helpless. Chapter 5 I walked along the forest path, my hand in Tarian¡¯s unfamiliar grip. Firm, but not painful, like his brother¡¯s would have been. I rubbed my shoulder where Narvi had gripped it. I could already feel a bruise forming. ¡°See that dog?¡± Tarian asked. I looked up at him, then followed his gaze. There, slinking through the trees, was a massive grey canine. It was wolf-like, with massive paws and a lean build, and it stalked rather than walked. The wolf-dog turned its head, looking at us intently. Its red-brown eyes bore into me, like I was a rabbit it would eat for dinner. ¡°The fanghounds patrol this forest,¡± Tarian said, his voice low. ¡°If you leave the grounds of my cottage, they will hunt you down.¡± I nodded slowly, watching as the wolf-dog slunk off deeper into the forest. We rounded a bend, pausing at a fence gate. The fence was made of elaborate swirls of metal, waist high, and surrounded a cottage made of grey stone and dark wood. The large yard the cottage stood in was dotted with trees and patches of wild flowers. At the far end I could see a larger set of gates and a driveway leading to a detached garage, and to my right was a small shrine carved with the phases of the moon. Tarian tugged on my hand gently, guiding me through the little gate and into the cottage. ¡°Do not go beyond the fence,¡± he said, closing the gate behind him. ¡°And do not go into my study. Anywhere else is fine.¡± He dropped my hand and walked past me, heading toward the house. I stood by the gate, staring at the cottage. It looked normal, cozy even. It was still a prison. I glanced behind me. Three wolf-dogs stood at the edge of the forest, watching me intently. I turned back to face the house, palms sweaty, breaths ragged and too fast as my heart beat so fast it ached. I took a step forward, then another, and another. I ran to the cottage, slipping inside the same door Tarian had entered. A little entryway at the back of the house. I could see a laundry room through an open door to my left, and a homey kitchen through a wide archway to the right. Everything was made of dark wood or covered in wallpaper. Coats and umbrellas hung from hooks on the wall, a shoe rack tucked underneath. Straight out of a storybook. Tarian was standing in the kitchen, talking to an older lady stirring a large pot with a ladle. The woman, a short and slightly plump human with greying hair tucked into a low bun, looked up and met my gaze. She wore a simple, loose fitting blue dress, a white apron, and brown tennis shoes. Something about her seemed warm and inviting, like nothing bad could happen while in her presence.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Come on in,¡± she said, waving me over. ¡°Leave your shoes at the door.¡± I slipped off my tennis shoes and tucked them next to the shoe rack, then stepped up to the archway leading to the kitchen. I hovered there, half in, half out, as the smell of stew and baking bread tried to draw me in. This could be an act, but¡­ The older woman¡¯s clear blue eyes twinkled. ¡°You must be Runa, Master Tarian¡¯s new bride. I am Mrs. Smith, the head housekeeper and cook of Basile Cottage. My husband William is the groundskeep. Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tarian said before I had a chance to reply. ¡°How delightful. Be a dear and keep stirring for me, I¡¯ll take Miss Runa up to your room.¡± Mrs. Smith handed the ladle to Tarian. I watched as he took it and began to stir the stew. She acts as if he¡¯s his grandson, despite calling him ¡°master¡± like a servant from the Victorian era. And my presence is accepted, as if I was a guest. Does she even know I was kidnapped? I followed Mrs. Smith backed out into the hallway I had entered, letting her lead me down it. ¡°This door leads to the servants¡¯ quarters,¡± she said, pointing to a door on the left. ¡°That door on the right is the dining room, and the one at the end of the hall leads to the main entryway.¡± She pushed open the door at the far end, revealing a slightly larger, more empty entryway than the one I had first entered. A set of stairs led up into a second floor, next to a set of french doors. On the opposite side of the stairs was a smaller door. ¡°The parlor,¡± Mrs. Smith explained, pointing to the smaller door. ¡°And those doors lead into a small ballroom.¡± We made our way up the stairs, into another long hallway lined with doors. At the far end was another staircase and a round, stained-glass window depicting a red rose. ¡°The library and the master¡¯s study are on the left,¡± Mrs. Smith continued the tour, walking down the hall. ¡°Upstairs is mainly storage and empty rooms. And on the right is a sitting room and the room belonging to you and Master Tarian.¡± She opened the door, revealing a large, rectangular bedroom decorated in dark wood and an array of blue and gold. Three large windows framed by heavy blue curtains tied back with gold curtain ties sat on the opposite wall. On either side of the middle window stood a wardrobe made of dark wood, a vanity positioned between them. A large, matching canopy bed dominated the far wall, the same heavy curtains tied back with matching gold tiebacks, and edged with gold embroidery. A nightstand and lamp stood at each side of the bed, and a long, plush white sofa with a low back spanned the entire length of the bed, pressed up against the footboard. Plush rugs littered the floor, and sparse paintings of nature scenery and flowers decorated the walls. I stepped inside the room, glancing behind me. A second door near the far end of the room was open, revealing an attached bathroom. I could see a massive tub shoved into an alcove partially blocked from view by heavy drapes. ¡°Your wardrobe is the one on the left. We¡¯ve had it stocked with a suitable wardrobe for you,¡± Mrs. Smith said. ¡°Dinner will be served in about an hour. Someone will come get you and bring you down if you don¡¯t join us before then.¡± ¡°You said this was Tarian and my room?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I would like a different room.¡± Mrs. Smith paused, then spoke slowly. ¡°I understand the circumstances are¡­ less than ideal. However, the master has good reasons to keep you close. Your request has been denied.¡± With that she shut the door, and I was finally alone. I slid to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I can¡¯t escape. Chapter 6 I walked along the forest path, my hand in Tarian¡¯s unfamiliar grip. Firm, but not painful, like his brother¡¯s would have been. I rubbed my shoulder where Narvi had gripped it. I could already feel a bruise forming. ¡°See that dog?¡± Tarian asked. I looked up at him, then followed his gaze. There, slinking through the trees, was a massive grey canine. It was wolf-like, with massive paws and a lean build, and it stalked rather than walked. The wolf-dog turned its head, looking at us intently. Its red-brown eyes bore into me, like I was a rabbit it would eat for dinner. ¡°The fanghounds patrol this forest,¡± Tarian said, his voice low. ¡°If you leave the grounds of my cottage, they will hunt you down.¡± I nodded slowly, watching as the wolf-dog slunk off deeper into the forest. We rounded a bend, pausing at a fence gate. The fence was made of elaborate swirls of metal, waist high, and surrounded a cottage made of grey stone and dark wood. The large yard the cottage stood in was dotted with trees and patches of wild flowers. At the far end I could see a larger set of gates and a driveway leading to a detached garage, and to my right was a small shrine carved with the phases of the moon. Tarian tugged on my hand gently, guiding me through the little gate and into the cottage. ¡°Do not go beyond the fence,¡± he said, closing the gate behind him. ¡°And do not go into my study. Anywhere else is fine.¡± He dropped my hand and walked past me, heading toward the house. I stood by the gate, staring at the cottage. It looked normal, cozy even. It was still a prison. I glanced behind me. Three wolf-dogs stood at the edge of the forest, watching me intently. I turned back to face the house, palms sweaty, breaths ragged and too fast as my heart beat so fast it ached. I took a step forward, then another, and another. I ran to the cottage, slipping inside the same door Tarian had entered. A little entryway at the back of the house. I could see a laundry room through an open door to my left, and a homey kitchen through a wide archway to the right. Everything was made of dark wood or covered in wallpaper. Coats and umbrellas hung from hooks on the wall, a shoe rack tucked underneath. Straight out of a storybook. Tarian was standing in the kitchen, talking to an older lady stirring a large pot with a ladle. The woman, a short and slightly plump human with greying hair tucked into a low bun, looked up and met my gaze. She wore a simple, loose fitting blue dress, a white apron, and brown tennis shoes. Something about her seemed warm and inviting, like nothing bad could happen while in her presence.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Come on in,¡± she said, waving me over. ¡°Leave your shoes at the door.¡± I slipped off my tennis shoes and tucked them next to the shoe rack, then stepped up to the archway leading to the kitchen. I hovered there, half in, half out, as the smell of stew and baking bread tried to draw me in. This could be an act, but¡­ The older woman¡¯s clear blue eyes twinkled. ¡°You must be Runa, Master Tarian¡¯s new bride. I am Mrs. Smith, the head housekeeper and cook of Basile Cottage. My husband William is the groundskeep. Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tarian said before I had a chance to reply. ¡°How delightful. Be a dear and keep stirring for me, I¡¯ll take Miss Runa up to your room.¡± Mrs. Smith handed the ladle to Tarian. I watched as he took it and began to stir the stew. She acts as if he¡¯s his grandson, despite calling him ¡°master¡± like a servant from the Victorian era. And my presence is accepted, as if I was a guest. Does she even know I was kidnapped? I followed Mrs. Smith backed out into the hallway I had entered, letting her lead me down it. ¡°This door leads to the servants¡¯ quarters,¡± she said, pointing to a door on the left. ¡°That door on the right is the dining room, and the one at the end of the hall leads to the main entryway.¡± She pushed open the door at the far end, revealing a slightly larger, more empty entryway than the one I had first entered. A set of stairs led up into a second floor, next to a set of french doors. On the opposite side of the stairs was a smaller door. ¡°The parlor,¡± Mrs. Smith explained, pointing to the smaller door. ¡°And those doors lead into a small ballroom.¡± We made our way up the stairs, into another long hallway lined with doors. At the far end was another staircase and a round, stained-glass window depicting a red rose. ¡°The library and the master¡¯s study are on the left,¡± Mrs. Smith continued the tour, walking down the hall. ¡°Upstairs is mainly storage and empty rooms. And on the right is a sitting room and the room belonging to you and Master Tarian.¡± She opened the door, revealing a large, rectangular bedroom decorated in dark wood and an array of blue and gold. Three large windows framed by heavy blue curtains tied back with gold curtain ties sat on the opposite wall. On either side of the middle window stood a wardrobe made of dark wood, a vanity positioned between them. A large, matching canopy bed dominated the far wall, the same heavy curtains tied back with matching gold tiebacks, and edged with gold embroidery. A nightstand and lamp stood at each side of the bed, and a long, plush white sofa with a low back spanned the entire length of the bed, pressed up against the footboard. Plush rugs littered the floor, and sparse paintings of nature scenery and flowers decorated the walls. I stepped inside the room, glancing behind me. A second door near the far end of the room was open, revealing an attached bathroom. I could see a massive tub shoved into an alcove partially blocked from view by heavy drapes. ¡°Your wardrobe is the one on the left. We¡¯ve had it stocked with a suitable wardrobe for you,¡± Mrs. Smith said. ¡°Dinner will be served in about an hour. Someone will come get you and bring you down if you don¡¯t join us before then.¡± ¡°You said this was Tarian and my room?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°I would like a different room.¡± Mrs. Smith paused, then spoke slowly. ¡°I understand the circumstances are¡­ less than ideal. However, the master has good reasons to keep you close. Your request has been denied.¡± With that she shut the door, and I was finally alone. I slid to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I can¡¯t escape. Chapter 7 I blinked slowly, my head pounding. Something hot was pressing down on my arm. Something pointy and hard. I turned my head slightly. I could just barely make out the figure of a woman looming over me, holding my arm to her mouth. I could feel my magic flowing into her in a head-spinning rush. A flash of light and a bang echoed in my ears. The smell of gunpowder filled my nose, making my eyes water. The figure dropped my arm, pressing a hand over her heart. Crimson blood covered her hand as he crumpled, falling to the floor with a thud I felt, rather than heard. I sat up slowly, pressing a hand to my aching head as I studied my surroundings. I was sitting on the sofa at the foot of the bed in Tarian¡¯s room. Moonlight spilled through the large, uncovered windows I faced. A thick quilt covered me, several pillows resting both where my head had been moments before, and strewn about the floor around the makeshift bed. Something shifted to my right. I turned my head slowly, my hands growing cold. Kneeling on the bed, dressed in a plain shirt and flannel pajama pants, was the last person I wanted to see at that moment. Tarian slowly lowered his gun, his eyes scanning the room. The door flew open, lights filling the room as Mrs. Smith, dressed in a nightgown and robe, barreled into the room. ¡°I heard a gunshot! What happened?¡± Tarian didn¡¯t move. ¡°Mrs. Smith. There was an intruder. Wake William for me.¡± ¡°No need.¡± A newcomer, a man about Mrs. Smith¡¯s age, and dressed in similar nighttime attire, stepped into the room. William¡­ that was Mrs. Smith¡¯s husband, right? The groundskeep? ¡°You poor dears,¡± Mrs. Smith soothed, crossing the room to the wardrobe. ¡°And on your wedding night too.¡± William crossed the room as well. He began dragging the body of the intruder out of the room, leaving a trail of blood droplets. I stared after him, my mind empty as a clear summer¡¯s day. I should be panicking right now. Mrs. Smith picked her way over the bloody trail, two robes draped over one arm. She handed one to me before draping the other over Tarian¡¯s shoulders. I slipped the robe on over the jeans and t-shirt I had arrived in the day before. Tarian finally lowered his gun, handing it to Mrs. Smith. ¡°This is why I wanted you near me at night.¡± I frowned. The way he said it made it seem like we¡¯d had some big argument about the issue. ¡°We could have saved everyone the trouble if you hadn¡¯t kidnapped me,¡± I felt obligated to point out. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you took me by force and made me marry you at knife-point.¡± Tarian scowled down at me as he slid off the bed and stormed toward the door. ¡°Master Tarian?¡± Mrs. Smith called after the angry vampire. Tarian slammed the door in response. Like a child. I rolled my eyes.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Mrs. Smith smiled at the door, a gentle expression with a hint of sadness in her eyes. ¡°Well, no use ruining a perfectly good day over this. I¡¯ll get breakfast started if you want to get dressed and clean up before the maids arrive to clean." *** I stared down at the steaming cup of tea, leaning against the kitchen chair. Mrs. Smith had taken me down a flight of stairs and into a small, cozy kitchen. Stars dotted the early morning sky, the moon hanging low in the horizon. A clock on the wall across from me chimed once, marking the half-hour. Everything felt surreal, like a dream. Even a shower and changing into the vampire clothes Mrs. Smith picked out for me hadn¡¯t fully dispelled my stupor. I picked at a loose thread on the skirt I wore. The fabric was a light blue color covered in tiny pink roses, long enough to brush my ankles and just the right amount of twirl to it. Mrs. Smith had paired it with a long-sleeved white blouse made of an airy material and a thin leather belt that hosted a skirt-hike. ¡°A crew of gardeners and maids come once a week to help clean and maintain the grounds. Master Tarian, William, a maid, and myself are the only ones who live in this cottage,¡± Mrs. Smith was saying as she stirred a pan of eggs. ¡°And you as well now, as you¡¯ve married the young master.¡± I gripped the cup tighter. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine what it would be like to actually be an eager new bride to the love of her life. For a moment, I wondered if I could do it, if I could just allow this to happen and find happiness. I shook my head at the fleeting thought. No matter how pretty the cottage or the clothes, or how nice the servants, the reality was that I was kidnapped. I didn¡¯t belong here. ¡°As the mistress of the house, you may go anywhere on the grounds you like,¡± Mrs. Smith continued. ¡°Anywhere but the master¡¯s study, of course. But I believe Master Tarian has mentioned that, yes?¡± William stepped into the kitchen, dressed in brown pants, a white button-down shirt, and brown suspenders. He swiped a biscuit from a tray resting on the stovetop. Mrs. Smith swatted at William with a towel. ¡°Honestly!¡± William grinned, turning to me with a wink. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t the best of circumstances, but please don¡¯t take it out on Master Tarian. That woman is responsible for this, not him.¡± He said the word ¡°woman¡± as if it was a word so vile, even saying it disgusted him. ¡°Shh! Do not speak ill of the matron!¡± Mrs. Smith scolded, then turned back to me. ¡°Though my husband is right. Master Tarian will do everything he can to shield you from his mother. It is a heavy burden for him to bear. Try not to take your anger out on him again, if you can.¡± ¡°¡°I don¡¯t recall his mother attacking me in my home or saying wedding vows with me.¡± I stared down at my teacup as the room lapsed into silence. ¡°Why is everyone up so early?¡± I looked up to see a maid stumbling into the kitchen, yawning. She was a little older than me, with bright red eyes that stood out against her dark skin, black hair braided into hundreds of tiny braids, and sharp little fangs. A vampire. ¡°There was an intruder,¡± William explained. ¡°Miss Runa, this is Lettie, the maid that lives here.¡± The vampire collapsed into a chair at the table across from me, resting her head on the table. ¡°So you¡¯re the master¡¯s new wife,¡± she mumbled, closing her eyes. ¡°Lettie! Is that any way to treat your new mistress?¡± Mrs. Smith scolded as she poured coffee into a mug. ¡°I apologize, Miss Runa. Lettie is not much of a morning person.¡± She set the mug of coffee down in front of Lettie. Lettie sat up slowly, as if physically pained from the movement, then picked up the cup and took a sip. ¡°Oh coffee, how I¡¯ve missed you,¡± she said, her voice dreamy as she looked up at the ceiling. Mrs. Smith shook her head. William chuckled, ruffling Lettie¡¯s hair as if she was a child. Lettie set down her mug and shoved William¡¯s hand away. ¡°Stop it! Get back, you fiend! You¡¯re interrupting my reunion with caffeine!" I smiled a little at the exchange. Something about the three servants interacting felt warm and familial. Like things wouldn¡¯t be so bad, because they were there and together, and welcoming me, allowing me to be a small part of their world. I set down my teacup. I can¡¯t let my guard down. I need to escape from here. I need to go home and forget this ever happened. The forest beyond the fence beckoned me, and for a moment I thought I could see the eyes of one of the wolf-dogs shining back at me like two little full moons. Then it was gone. They¡¯re dogs. They probably recognize people by scent. Maybe¡­ An idea was forming in my mind. One that would be risky. But if I could make it¡­ Maybe things weren¡¯t so hopeless after all. I just needed to bide my time a little while longer.