Page 31 of To Save a Vampire
The breath I was holding escapes, taking a heaviness that filled my lungs with it. The sound of the river trickles through the rocks and into my thoughts. Asher lowers his sword, his shoulders falling. I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows harshly.
“What the hell was that?” I ask in a shaky whisper.
My feet instinctively move toward him, needing to close the distance between us. My hand grips his arm, holding him in the present like he too might disappear before my eyes. His chest rises and falls, his eyes never stop scanning our surroundings.
“That was an Infinity witch. There’s a community of mystics who hide out here in the forest. Anything she said to you was a lie. Even her appearance was a lie. She appears to you as what you want to see, based on your ambiance.” He looks down at me for a moment, his anger diminishing. “She might appear as something kind, or pitiful, or something beautiful, but their shrouded bodies match what’s left of their souls and are actually quite mangled.” His eyes trail down to my hand that still grips her offering.
The meat she gave me is now a heap of white ash. I let it fall through my fingers, and the breeze carries it away. I can’t help but shudder as dried particles of it float into the rapids. The waves drink it up, making me cringe from the thought of something so unnatural mingling with nature. I wipe my palm on my jeans; a white, chalky stain appears on the black material. A token of the witch.
She was the walking image of innocence, so kind and angelic looking. What did Asher see? Judging by how she looked at him she must have been something beautiful, something more than I have to offer, I’m sure. I swallow hard, my heart dipping down at the thought.
Man and mystics once worked together to eliminate the masses of dominating vampires that threatened to devour all of our races—mortals, witches, werewolves—we were a team against the vampires. And now the mystics hide from us because we have lashed out at those who helped us, making enemies of friends.
“What did she want with me?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. All she had to do was touch you and you would have been whisked away to whatever hell she’s hiding in.” He pauses, and a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Some say they eat humans.” My nose scrunches at the thought and he laughs. “I hear it’s quite the cuisine,” he says with a wink. A shudder crawls down my spine at a vivid image of her perfect teeth tearing the flesh from my bones. “Some say they keep humans like pets in a cage. Feeding them spells of food until they tire of them and dispose of them in creative ways.”
He laughs again at my horror, and I push away from his teasing … or is it honesty? As expected, he doesn’t stumble from my light shove against his shoulder; it just seems to make him more amused. My mortality is something of a joke to him. I turn to walk back to where we set up camp, but he touches my elbow, catching my attention.
“Seriously though, never forget what I told you,” he says, his palm slipping against my jaw, tilting my head up to meet his earnest eyes. “There are far worse things than me in these woods. Mystics live hidden lives out here in the forest. Communities of hidden mystics, like you wouldn’t believe.”
Staring into his pale eyes, I believe him. I’ve grown up hearing all the legends in my camp about the mystical beings our government shields us from; the sinister faeries that pull you in with their beauty and enchant your mind; the handsome men who under the light of the full moon shift into something else entirely, walking on all fours like snarling demons; the legends of the few vampires still inhabiting the shadows of the Red Hills, waiting to retake our world; and, of course, the tales of the violent pikes, the abomination race, the heartless monsters taken prisoner within the compound.
Asher doesn’t meet those descriptions. Not at all. He’s the furthest thing from them. He’s been nothing but my friend. More really. He’s become my unexpected and unrequested guardian angel.
* * *
“I have something for you,” my mother says in an unusually chipper voice as soon as we return to our camp.
She takes notice of Asher and I walking together from the same direction, but doesn’t question it. She doesn’t say anything about the time I’m spending with Asher, but I see her taking note of every little interaction we have in front of her. It makes me self-conscious of everything I do under her gaze. Do I glance over at him too often? Is this too close for me to stand next to him? Am I smiling too much at his jokes? Am I smiling at him too much in general? Should I stop smiling entirely?
It’s exhausting.
My thoughts are pulled from Asher for a moment when my mother takes something from her bag. She holds a black cloth in her hand. It’s folded in an odd shape, making it even more intriguing.
“Happy Birthday, hun.” She holds the item out to me, a big smile consuming her thin face. “It’s from Ky and me. And Ripper, too, I guess,” she says with an eye roll.
Ky walks over and stands behind my mother, his height shadowing over her small frame.
As I take the gift from my mother, my eyes can’t help but search for Asher. He’s restarting the small fire. The flames reach up around the fresh dry bark he’s carefully placed. Sliced fish hang over the eager flames. The meat doesn’t look as appetizing as the food the Infinity witch gave me. My stomach turns at the thought of ever eating fish again.
A hesitant smile touches the corner of my lips as I glance from my mother to Ky. Where would they have gotten me a gift? It feels heavy and unbalanced in my palm. The three of us walk over to the fire and sit down close together. Asher stands a few feet away, watching for me to reveal the item.
I push aside the soft cloth that barely conceals the gift. Beneath the black material lies Ky’s nine-millimeter handgun. It’s identical to the newer weapon he carries on his hip at all times. My eyes bulge at the sight of the scratched and worn gun. I hold in my hand something Ky loves as much as he loves my mother. I feel like he just gave me a piece of his soul for my birthday.
I wrap my fingers around the grip of the gun, turning it from side to side as if it’s the first time I’ve ever really seen it. My index finger is straight against the barrel like Ky taught me.
Everyone’s looking at me. It is my birthday, so I guess that’s normal, but I’m not sure what to say. I love the gift. It means so much to Ky that it automatically means even more to me. My mother loves that Ky and I are close, and I know this will only bring us closer, but it also feels morbid, like they know I’ll need this gift at some point in my life.
“You like it?” my mom asks, tilting her head to look me in the eyes.
Ky kneels at her side, concern etching his face.
“It’s amazing. I can’t believe you’re willing to part with this,” I say to Ky with a shy smile.
My mother looks at Ky with so much adoration I have to glance away. Watching them feels almost intrusive now when it never did in the past.
“Have you ever killed anyone, Ky?” I ask, swallowing a lump in my throat.
