Page 50 of To Save a Vampire
As her finger grips the trigger, a veil rushes her. She aims at it, her arms rigid as she fires one round after another into the creature’s chest. It stumbles back from the impact, but doesn’t stop its attack as it shrieks into the night, advancing on her until she’s kicking it away, her boots flailing against its thin limbs. Its claws sink into and shred open her legs. She limps and scrambles frantically away from it.
There’s nothing left. Fate has no more tricks up her sleeve for us. We survived nature and witches and veil only to be brought full circle to the pitiful executioner before me.
Without thinking, I push Asher aside. His confused body fumbles beneath my determined hands. I step into Shaw’s sweeping blade like a sacrifice, my hands raised slightly to deflect the blow I know will soon come.
My mother screams in the distance, her fearful green eyes watching me as she scrambles in the dirt toward us. The veil sinks its razor-like teeth into her leg with the help of my distraction.
Pain explodes through my entire body and dwells in my pounding heart. It’s so loud. The noise of my pumping blood fills my ears, drowning out the world around me. I blink up at Shaw in confusion, still not processing the outcome of my actions. I touch my midsection lightly; the strange feeling of warm blood coats my palm and gushes between my fingers.
Shaw’s beady eyes smile down at me, eating up my pained expression with darting eyes. Like he’s waited our entire lives in the compound to plunge this sword into me here, in the middle of nowhere, with everyone I love surrounding me
I fall to the ground. My hands thrash out to hold onto Shaw’s suit jacket to keep myself standing. But I hit the ground despite my meager efforts. Asher sits behind me, cradling my head in his blood-soaked hands. His shirt is sliced in an identical place as my own, his eyes are unfocused as he looks at me, mirroring my own expression. Confusion mixed with pain. His flesh at his side is torn deeply, and blood pours from the jagged wound.
The Crimson Sword went through me and into him. Wet tears slip down my cheeks. I shudder to breathe as pain wrecks my chest. My actions were for nothing.
The wounds on his face are still open and fresh; blood still runs down his shoulder. How much blood is he losing?
I push my palms flat against my ribs again, but the blood is slick against my hands, and I can’t find the pressure I know I need.
Looking up to the man who sealed all of our fates, I see Shaw’s triumphant gaze become suddenly vacant. His trembling hand covers the blood that’s seeping from the center of his chest, staining the perfectly pressed button-down shirt. His face slackens as he turns to see my mother’s gun still pointed at him as the creature continues to claw at her on the ground.
The Crimson Sword slips from his frail hand as he staggers to the ground at my feet.
Tilting my head to the side, trying to keep my heavy eyes open, I watch my mother crawling toward me. She’s close. I want her close to me. I need her with me. I need my mother. My throat is tight and my tongue feels thick in my mouth.
A small breath fills my lungs. “Mom,” I say, the word quiet against my dry lips.
My mind drifts to all the times she held me as a child, pulled me close to her, held my head in her hands. Her warmth washed away all my problems. I need her. I need her to hold me again. To feel the illogical safety I know her embrace offers.
The veil tears into her, pulling at her as she thrashes against the ground just a few feet from me. Her thin, shaking hand covers her mouth as tears stream down her pained face. I reach a bloody hand out to her. The movement painful and disorderly.
Her small hands push against the weight of the veil, its body now encompassing hers. Its claws tear quickly through the air and shred down her chest and torso. I see the agony on her face, but I can’t hear her cries.
The air has left my lungs entirely. A new pain soars through my chest. My heart dips and falls without any natural rhythm. Black spots cloud my vision as I watch my mother’s death unfold before my eyes.
The veil claws repeatedly at her disfigured body. Her arms spread out at her sides unmoving. Blood and flesh are flung all around like confetti ribbon against the dirt.
“Run, Fallon,” Asher says in my ear.
His voice resonates in my mind. I look up at him through the hot tears in my eyes. I swallow as emotional and physical pain unfurls inside me.
He pushes me to my feet. I stumble, hanging onto a tree behind his slumped over body.
The veil is now feeding off of my mother, and I can’t bring myself to look at her disfigured body. I see Gabriel near the house, his movements clouded in darkness as he fights the other veil. He looks tired but unharmed.
My body sways under my feet. Asher grips my hand. He’s cold. Or I am? He presses something hard into my open hand. I look down slowly to see the Crimson Sword hanging in my fingers.
He pushes my arm away and doesn’t look at me.
My throat’s tight, and I struggle to breathe.
He wants me to leave him. Again.
This time he won’t make it. This time I won’t make it.None of us made it.
We tried and we failed.
Fifteen
