Page 30 of To Save a Vampire
We spot her before she sees us—a young girl sitting on a large flat rock, flaying a fish. Her long blonde hair is braided to one side, a fresh flower tucked behind one ear and smaller flowers trailing down her thick braid. Her song stops abruptly when she senses us, and her big blue eyes meet mine. A nervous smile touches her lips as she looks around. Her innocence shows in her adolescent eyes. Her hand tightens on the small flaying knife as she subtly raises it higher.
She looks like a frightened, defensive animal. Her small and petite build isn’t threatening, but she holds her head high and confident nonetheless.
“I’m sorry. I was looking for a friend. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say, holding my palms up slightly, taking a step back.
She swallows hard and stands quickly, her thin white dress flowing to her knees. I turn to leave, unsure of how to make her feel more at ease. “Wait,” she says in an urgent, hurried voice, taking a few steps toward me.
I stop where I am. She tosses the thin knife to the ground, where it clinks lightly against the rocks. She walks the short distance to where we stand near the cliff and the slight river bank. Her bare feet never stumble on the rough, damp rocks.
Holding out her dainty hand, she offers me a clean plank of white fish meat. It’s so pure and perfect looking like she conjured it from thin air. It looks delicious, and I return a smile at her offering.
“Thank you,” I say in a breath, surprised by her kindness. My stomach growls from the lack of food eaten last night. “You really don’t have to do this, though.” Ripper watches the food in my hand with wide eyes, licking his thin lips in contradiction, like he didn’t eat half a turkey just a few hours ago.
She smiles down at the little dog, extending her small palm to pet the soft white hair atop his head. Ripper quickly dodges her and runs behind my legs where he growls like the ominous predator he is. She laughs at the sound of his threat. Her voice, song, and laughter are all light and peaceful.
“I haven’t seen anyone in the forest in …,” she pauses, eating up my overall appearance, “… years. What brings you here?” Her head tilts up at me, her words articulate but soft.
I pause, unsure of what I’m doing here in the woods, but also unsure of how much information I should give her.
“You’re looking for answers,” she says like a guess, raising a thin eyebrow. “But you’ll only find more questions.” Her words carry weight, a heaviness, spoken like someone who has seen decades come and go. “Are you traveling with anyone? Acompanion?”
A slow, sly smile pulls at her lips. Her teeth are white, nearly as white as her pale blonde hair and her dress, which hangs from her thin body. She has an aura pouring from her. Maybe it’s from her happiness, her innocence, or maybe there’s something unseen in her. Something … magical, like the tales whispered around camp of beings we’ve pushed from our history. Is she fae? Her ears appear natural, no angle or points. But she’s different. Flawless and angelic and something else.
Somethingunnatural.Her strange words tug at my mind, and I shift awkwardly on my feet.
“No, no companion for me,” I say, choosing my words carefully but keeping myself honest as well. “I have a group I’m traveling with.”
She nods pleasantly; her wide eyes are clear and curious, still assessing me. I’m a stranger to her. Can she trust me? I’m not much bigger than she is really. She offered me fish, a small sign of friendship, I guess. Is that what fish signifies?
“My name’s Fallon,” I say, extending my hand between us, trying to gain some trust in her skeptical eyes.
My hands that I rinsed in the river just moments ago feel dirty next to her clean, white dress and polished nails. How is she so clean here in the wild? She smiles sweetly at me, her long thin fingers reaching for my own. Her pretty smile grows larger. Too large. Strange, almost. Twisting into something other than happiness.
Just as her pale hand wisps over mine, my body is pulled back into something hard. The air is knocked out of me at the impact.
I tilt my head back, looking up to see Asher’s face set in anger as he walks us back from the girl. His brows are pulled low, his palm pressing firmly against my hip. My back is flush against his chest.
He holds the Crimson Sword low in his other hand, angling the blade toward the girl. The crystal-like blade reflects the bright sunlight, splintering it all around us in shades of white, blue, pink, and red.
Ripper growls at our feet, the only sound in the now strained silence.
“What are you doing?” I ask Asher nervously, almost embarrassed by his outburst and how close he’s holding me in front of a stranger.
The girl laughs, the sound trickling like water in a brook. She takes a couple vivacious steps closer to us, her hips swaying lightly and her demeanor changing with each passing second. Asher releases me and pushes me behind him, against the rock wall.
“Stay back,” he says to her, his voice harsher than I’ve ever heard. His jaw tics and his muscles tense in his arms and back.
She laughs softly again, taking a few more luxurious steps closer to him. He lunges, bringing the sword down at an angle with enough power to rip her tiny body in half. With a flash, she twists away from him, his glass-like sword hitting the wall of the cliff. Centuries old rock crumbles against the force of the blade, sending boulder-sized rocks to the ground at his feet. I take a few steps back from them as pieces of debris rain down on me, dusting my dark hair. The sword and Asher are both unaffected by the repercussions of hitting the hard granite. If anything, he stands straighter, fury pulsing through his fluid movements.
“Asher, is that any way to greet a friend?” she asks in a purring voice.
He breathes through his teeth in anger, and his eyes flash with rage to where the girl now stands at the river’s edge, a playful smile washing over her face and her pale blue eyes appearing to grow whiter. She takes small steps back and forth, her dress swooshing around her thin legs. She’s taunting him. Asher’s assessing glare never leaves her. She giggles, lunging left then stepping right.
Asher’s spine is rigid, his muscles taut. It’s a game to her, and he’s tired of playing. She shakes her head at him with a pout and takes a few more slow steps toward him, her hand outstretched to him in a casual way, her gaze that of a lover. She trails his body with her eyes. Anger and confusion rise in my pounding throat. The friendship fish now lays like dead weight in my palm, but I can’t bring myself to look away from Asher.
She lunges for him, her movement like lightning, her thin fingers like claws ready to clutch into him. Asher sees her advance before my mind even processes her actions. Her movement is like white lightning in a night sky. His arm extends back and rushes forward, the blade striking where she is, directed at her thin core. The blade doesn’t sink in though; a cloud of silver smoke fills the air, blowing away in the light breeze. Her melodious laugh echoes around the bluffs, chilling me to the bone.
She’s gone.
