Haunting Echoes

After a moment, Michelle spoke. “You’re good. You almost had me believing you.”

 

 

“Almost?”

 

The only answer Michelle gave was a pointed stare.

 

Amaia heaved a dramatic sigh. “See, I told you. No one ever believes me when it’s free.”

 

Michelle softly laughed. “That must be it. Now tell me, which one is the fate line?”

 

“This one here.” Amaia pointed to one of the lines intersecting Michelle’s palm.

 

“Let me see yours.” Michelle turned Amaia’s palm up and traced her fate line. “The scar’s barely visible.”

 

“I told you it would blend in with the line. Besides, you didn’t want it to scar. The whole thing was silly anyway.”

 

“Not to me. I always considered that blood oath the strongest bond we made, much more so than the ring I gave you with the promise of marriage.”

 

Michelle’s eyes were rich with feeling. Amaia didn’t want to think of the promises they’d made to each other. What did they know back then? Nothing. Amaia pulled her hand away. “Well, at least I was able to keep the ring, though it’s seen its share of repairs.”

 

“Yes, it’s held up well, just like you. It looks exactly as it did the day I bought it. You’ve employed some fine jewelers to keep it in such condition.”

 

“It’s one of the advantages of my position. I’m able to hire jewelers who have worked for royalty. I wouldn’t let just anyone touch it.”

 

“Good.” Michelle rose and Amaia followed suit.

 

As they walked out of the inn, Amaia counted the money she had earned. “I did rather well today for such a short time.”

 

Michelle lowered her chin and glowered at her.

 

Amaia rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She deposited the coins into the cup of the next beggar they passed.

 

“How can you claim to hate people when you relate to them so well?”

 

“They fascinate me. The way a mortal thinks is very different.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Without even realizing it, nearly every thought in your head is tied in some way to your mortality. It’s silly when you consider how short a time humans live in the grand scheme of things. A lifetime is nothing.”

 

Michelle stopped and examined Amaia’s face with her arms crossed. “You really can’t die?”

 

“No, I can. It’s just incredibly difficult. Someone would have to want me dead pretty badly.”

 

“How?”

 

Amaia shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. It’s too dangerous. There are those who would kill you if they found out you knew. Not to mention that I’d hate for you to think you could do it and end up getting yourself killed.”

 

Michelle let the subject drop. Amaia danced a fine line. One wrong step and she could endanger the one person outside of her little clan she cared for. It would be nearly impossible to protect a mortal from Zenas’s wrath.

 

***

 

 

“I didn’t think a vampire could enter a house of worship. Looking back, I figured that’s why you didn’t join us for mass at the monastery.”

 

Amaia strode down the aisle of the church. “Another myth designed to make humans feel safe. You don’t do well against things you can’t explain. I’ve spent quite a bit of time in churches. We like feeding from people who feel safe and warm in God’s love.”

 

Michelle shuddered and shook her head. “We?”

 

“Yes, my friends and I.”

 

“I guess I never thought of there being other vampires besides you and Lawrence.”

 

Amaia laughed. “There are thousands.”

 

“Will I ever get to meet these friends?”

 

Amaia sobered. “No. Never.”

 

“Why not? Are you ashamed of me?”

 

“No, it’s too dangerous. It is an immutable law that humans not know of us.”

 

Michelle’s face twisted. “What? Humans know about vampires.”

 

“Yes, but only in a mythical sense. Any humans who know of us must be killed.”

 

“You have friends who would kill me?”

 

“No, my friends wouldn’t, but it’s too risky. The fewer people involved, the better.”

 

Michelle knelt when they reached the front of the church and crossed herself. Amaia waited.

 

“Why did you bring me here?”

 

“I like the stained glass. The sun is about to be in the perfect position to shine through the large window here.” Amaia nodded to the colorful depiction of Christ with Mary Magdalene. She picked a pew and sat, waiting for the right moment. Michelle sat next to her, apparently content to stay silent.

 

When the light hit just the right angle, Amaia grasped the pew until the wood creaked. The explosion of twinkling color enraptured her as if she were a little child seeing a rainbow for the first time. “I wish you could see it the way I do, Michelle. You claim belief in God because of the beauty of the world around you, but you can’t even see a tenth of it.”

 

Caethes Faron's books