Page 121 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

Miss Julia had a house, way down the bend,

With a crooked front porch where the pine trees bend.

She cooked up gumbo, rice, and beans,

And the fireflies danced in the live oak green.

Domencio shivered, though the dragon curled around him radiated the heat of a thousand volcanoes. The faint sound of a voice—small, young, and feminine—sang in the distance. The dragon’s low growl vibrated through the void, a rumble of irritation, then a sigh. Domencio, just six years old, lifted his head from his knees and squinted into the inky blackness. He could hear her. Close, but not close enough.

("Fast skipping, changes pace")

Clap one time,

Clap two times,

Spin around, and jump in line!

Whoever she was, she wasn’t a grown-up. She was a little girl, and she was getting closer. Domencio rose to his feet as the dragon arched its neck, breathing flames high above its head toward the sound of the girl’s voice. The void remained impenetrably dark, but her skipping song cut through it like a beacon. Fearless.

("Skipping, skipping, skipping, changing pace")

Mama said no, but I snuck a bite,

Of Miss Julia's biscuits in the full moonlight.

Now I’m skippin', slippin', don’t you fall,

Vampires in the bayou, gonna hear them call!

Out of the darkness emerged a little girl. Her brown skin glowed softly against the blackness, her ponytails bouncing as she skipped rope. She wore a yellow dress, baby-doll socks, and patent leather shoes, shiny even in this dim place. She stopped short at the sight of Domencio, her wide eyes flickered up to the dragon with a thousand teeth.

“Ooooo, scary. Who are you?” she asked and let the jump rope fall slack in her hands.

The dragon roared, its teeth shiny, its eyes blazed. The girl flinched and took a step back. Domencio turned, yelled at the beast in Sicilian. His tone authoritative as it commandedthe Draca to leave. Darlene didn’t understand the words, yet somehow, she knew their meaning. To her astonishment, the dragon—a creature larger than anything she could imagine—hesitated before it retreated into the void, slapping its arrowed tip tail as it went, taking its flames with it.

A sliver of light appeared between them, just enough for the two children to see each other clearly.

“Who are you?” Domencio asked, his voice sharp and nervous. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” Darlene shot back, her hands on her hips. “This is my place. My secret place. Nobody knows about it. Not Mama. Not Dolly.”

“Not Dolly?” Domencio frowned.

“That’s the other me!” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m Darlene, the special one. Not even the doctor knows about this place. I come here to play.”

Domencio shook his head. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.” He looked down at his small body, riddled with bite marks and puncture wounds. They didn’t hurt, but every time he saw them, he felt the weight of his suffering.

“Are you a vampire?” Darlene asked suddenly. “Cause I kill vampires.”

Before Domencio could answer, a new sound rose from the darkness—a steady tap, tap, tap of a cane against the ground, accompanied by the low hum of a whistle. The noise drew them closer together instinctively. Domencio reached for Darlene’s hand without thinking, and when their fingers intertwined, a strange sense of safety washed over him.

“There you are,” came a voice, deep and honeyed.

From the void stepped a towering figure. His skin was as dark as the night, adorned with white tribal markings that glowed faintly. He wore a tailcoat, and an impossibly tall top hatadorned with a single feather. His presence radiated authority, mischief, and danger.

“I see you found each other,” the man said with a sly grin. “This I did not expect. But it works. Oh, yes, it works nicely.”

Darlene’s eyes stretched wide, her grip on Domencio’s hand tightened. “Who are you?” she asked.

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