12. Extinction
A shiver ran down my spine. That’s why Jethro reacted the way he did when he saw me. Now it made sense.
“Not us, specifically. Our species—vampires,” Bishop clarified, the last word coming softly.
“We did our share, though,” Caden said, turning to pace, head lowered.
“Why?” I heard myself croak.
“Vampires were no more than a myth for thousands of years, characters in horror movies. But then drained bodies with bite marks started showing up, left out for display. There was a new generation of our kind—one that didn’t care, that wanted people to be afraid. The humans fought back in the only way they knew how: war. One that escalated so quickly, it was too late to reverse the effects, by the time we found out. Vampires converted humans by the hundreds to build their army. Humans killed any vampire they could catch. They even killed other humans, if there was any doubt as to what they were.”
“So your kind can be killed?” I asked, my folklore facts not yet up to speed.
“It’s hard, but yes. With nuclear warfare, everything within the blast radius will die, including vampires. The radiation did nothing to us, but it was deadly to the humans. Between the blasts and the radiation, few humans survived; most of the world was destroyed within a few months.”
I asked into the silence, “How did you get away?”
“There was this large island in the middle of the ocean, thousands of miles from anything else. It was inhabited by people, but not overly developed—a Third World country; under the radar, so to speak. Many of us fled here, betting that it would survive. We were right. We brought humans with us, to breed. But humans take too long to reproduce and their blood is too tempting. They didn’t last long.”
“So now you live off animals? Like Viggo and Mortimer?”
A cynical smile touched Caden’s lips. “Just like them. But we’re starving—always starving—without human blood. Some of our kind experimented with feeding off other vampires. It mutated them into something altogether evil. You saw it … Jethro.”
I shuddered, those white, veiny eyes flashing in my mind. “How many of you are left?”
“A lot less than there used to be. There’s this self–formed Council composed of the strongest and oldest of our kind. They decided the population needed shrinking. We,” he gestured at the others, “hid well and survived. Since then, for over seven hundred years, they’ve been searching for a secret human civilization, hoping some survived somewhere in the world. But we know there aren’t any left. Deep down, we all know that. No human can survive in this world.”
I noted the present tense, and his silent message. I was human. I couldn’t survive here.
Caden’s next words confirmed it. “There is no ‘good and bad’ of our kind. We’re all bad.”
“Caden!” Bishop warned.
“And if the Council got hold of you,” Caden continued, ignoring him. “They’ll do anything to get to this world of yours, to have a new crop of humans to feed off. It isn’t safe to be around us.”
“Stop saying ‘we’ and ‘us,’ Caden. We aren’t like those demons,” Amelie said, throwing a withering glare in Rachel’s direction.
“I’m here, aren’t I? And I’ve helped you so far, haven’t I?” Rachel retorted haughtily.
“Us or yourself?” Fiona muttered.
“You’re a Council member,” I said slowly. “So was Jethro,” I added, recalling his greeting the other night.
“Yes, and I killed him. For you. So you can trust me.” Again, that sickly sweet smile that made my skin crawl. Hearing those two words, the same two words the vampire uttered before he sank his teeth into my neck, had the opposite effect. I had never trusted anyone less.
Here I was, a one–way ticket to survival for some lucky vampire. If I could bring back only one of them, how would I tell them? Or could I bring more than one? I had no idea! And, save for Rachel, how would I choose between the others? Would they make me choose?
Grateful I had listened to Sofie’s warning, I said quickly, “Well, none of them can come back with me.” I forced down the lump that rose in my throat with the lie. “No one can.”
Amelie put her hands on mine. “It’s okay, Evangeline. We’re not like them.”
“So … you don’t want to come back with me?”
“Oh no, we do,” Amelie answered firmly. “But not to feed off humans.”
“Then why?”
She paused. “To feel like we’re alive, instead of just …”
“Existing,” Fiona finished for her.
“And we’d never hurt you to get there,” Amelie added. “But we, the four of us, are in the minority here.” Another dig at Rachel.
Rachel grinned back viciously. “You’re such a convincing liar, Amelie, that I almost bought it.”
With a growl, Amelie flew across the cave to land on top of Rachel, claw–like fingers raking at her neck, drawing blood. Rachel answered with a swift kick and an equally vicious shriek, intentionally launching Amelie toward the fire. Luckily Fiona was there to catch her before she could land in it. Caden’s arms wrapped around Rachel’s body in the next second, holding her tightly to him, trying to restrain her.
“Are you insane? I’m stronger than all of you put together!” she shrieked, her face turning demonic with rage.
“Go get some air. I’ll be out in a minute,” Caden murmured, his hand softly caressing Rachel’s cheek. I noticed his jaw was clenched, though. “Please,” he added through gritted teeth.
Rachel snorted and, whirling, stormed out of the cave.
“Are you an idiot?” Caden hissed.
Amelie glared at him. “You brought this on us. Fix it,” she responded.
Caden’s face softened, as if Amelie had reminded him of something he had forgotten. He turned to me, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”
No, I wasn’t okay. They had just confirmed that my original fears were true—or mostly true: I was in danger. I’d be hunted if this Council found out about me. But I nodded.
Those beautiful eyes hardened. “You shouldn’t be. Don’t be a fool, Evangeline. Whatever this Viggo told you is likely a lie. That’s what our kind does—we lie. We deceive. We are evil.” His tone, cold and detached, threw the words like a sharp slap across my face. He was so different from the previous two nights.
“Caden!” Bishop boomed.
I nodded, silent.
Fiona threw an exasperated glare at Caden and came over to pull me off the bench. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. This mountain is honeycombed with neat caves.” She linked her arm through mine.
“Wait up,” Amelie called from behind us, doing an impossible leap into the air to grab a torch.
I looked back once as we left the cavern. Caden stood by the fire, those jade eyes regarding me without expression.
I could feel the weight of the mountain above us as we strolled down a long tunnel, the torch casting eerie shadows beyond jutting stalagmites and scattered stones.
“Well, at least the pendant will protect you while you’re here,” Fiona assured me. “We can’t sense your blood. It’s as if you’re one of us.”
And what if they could smell my blood? Is that all that’s keeping them from biting me? “How did you figure out I was human, then?” I asked aloud.
“You were holding your breath underwater,” Amelie answered matter–of–factly. “We don’t breathe, so we don’t need to hold our breath. Then you went and knocked yourself unconscious on that tree root, and—well, we’re not clumsy and we’re never unconscious.”
“Not even when you sleep?” I asked.
Fiona laughed. “Sleep is needed to rest and rejuvenate the body. We never tire so we never sleep.”
Made sense, I guess. I wondered what it was like not to sleep.
“Sometimes we meditate, though, and we get so deeply into it that it seems like we’re sleeping,” Fiona added.
“So, tell us about yourself, Evangeline!” Amelie said in a musical lilt. It was as if the near–death skirmish with Rachel five minutes before had never even happened.
“Um … there’s not really much to tell. I’m pretty vanilla.”
“Oh, come on. Sure there is. Tell us everything! What’re your hobbies, your passions, your pet peeves? What do you like to do? Who is ‘Evangeline’?” she said with theatrical flair.
I laughed. “You’d make a great actress.”
Amelie grinned. “I thought so too! I was going to be an actress, a famous Broadway one. But then this happened.” She gestured to her mouth, baring white teeth and hissing like a cat. It should have frightened me, but it was comical. I laughed. “Anyway, after that, I was … distracted by other things. Now, there’s not exactly an opportunity.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Obscurity is key. You can’t exactly be famous when you’re a vampire. After all, you can only explain your youthful appearance with plastic surgery for so long,” Amelie babbled, then waved her hand rapidly to and fro. “But enough about me. We want to know everything about you!”
I didn’t know where to begin. No one had ever asked me to summarize my existence so directly. No one ever asked me much about myself at all anymore. I switched schools so frequently that no one noticed when I came or left. It was as if I didn’t exist.
“Amelie’s excited, if you can’t tell,” Fiona said, chuckling. “We haven’t met someone we’ve liked in seven hundred years.”
‘Someone we’ve liked.’ Are they just staying that?
“Start with something easy. Your family.”
I faltered. “I live with a foster family. They’re kind of strange. I don’t really know them, to be honest.”
“And your parents?”
“Gone.” I offered a small smile.
Sensing my discomfort, they changed gears. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
I shook my head. No boyfriend. Ever. Not even an interested party.
“Okay, tell us about your friends. What’s your best friend’s name?”
“Oh … um …” I faltered again. “It’s tough to say …” No it’s not. It’s easy. You have no friends. You’re a leper. The truth was, I used to have friends, but they vanished after my mother’s death. I blamed myself for unintentionally alienating them while dealing with my loss. The few times I had attempted to start conversations and cultivate friendships since then had failed, the intended participants unresponsive. It wasn’t until I began volunteering at the shelters that I achieved some level of human interaction. And then there had been Sofie …
A hollow ache filled my heart as I remembered the high expectations I’d set, the night I met her and the days following, until the moment I learned her true intentions.
Luckily, Fiona’s voice interrupted my pity party. “Okay, let’s start with an easy question.” Fiona glanced at Amelie. “What’s your favorite flower?”
I smiled wistfully. Finally, one I could answer. “Daisies.”
Amelie’s eyebrows rose. “Really? They’re so plain.”
“I prefer ‘simple and elegant.’”
Amelie thought about that. “Yeah, maybe.” She skipped gaily down the path.
“Favorite music?” Fiona asked.
“Jazz. I know …” I said, grinning when I saw Amelie turn around to give me a baffled look. “But it reminds me of my mother.”
She smiled wistfully, her thoughts wandering somewhere for the moment. “Fair enough. Favorite food?”
“Anything in a pie.”
And so it went as we walked, Fiona and Amelie drilling me on every trivial detail they could think of. It was the conversation of normal girls getting to know each other—albeit quiz–like—not two vampires and a cursed soul.
“You know who loves reading as well?” Amelia asked as I mentioned my unhealthy obsession with books. “Caden. There could be a train wreck two feet away and his eyes wouldn’t have lifted from the page.”
“Really?” My heart skipped a beat at that tidbit of information. I was hungry for more—as much as possible. “So … he doesn’t like reading anymore?” I asked casually.
“Oh, I’m sure he does, but there aren’t any books to read,” Amelie responded.
“Evangeline, you don’t understand. This world … it’s like living in medieval times, only worse. We’re moving in reverse. Nothing’s left—no books, no phones, no computers, no electricity, no cars, no music. Bishop would kill for music. I used to sing to him. Apparently I’ve ruined classic rock,” Fiona said, a grim smile on her face.
“I’d kill for a long, hot shower … literally,” Amelie added.
My foot caught a pebble then and I listened to it skip along the ground. This world was sounding more dreadful by the minute. And here I was, feeling sorry for myself and my five–star prison waiting back home.
We turned a sharp corner in the tunnel and Fiona held up a hand. “Stay here,” she instructed before disappearing into the darkness.
“What’s she doing?” I whispered to Amelie.
She turned to smile at me, her green eyes twinkling with excitement. “You’ll see.”
Flame after flame suddenly appeared as if on an automatic remote, illuminating Fiona as she moved quickly around, lighting torches. When dozens were lit, when they cast enough light on the area, I gasped, all thoughts of prison and curses vanishing as my eyes glimpsed paradise.
“At least we have this,” Amelie sighed.
Directly ahead of us, a waterfall at least thirty feet high quietly tumbled down a wall of rock into a small lake, the water glistening invitingly in the torchlight. Several large boulders rose from the surface of the lake, creating private little alcoves. Steam rose off the water’s surface. The entire scene looked man–made, so perfect in design and so out of place, deep within this cave, that I half expected palm trees and ferns.
“What is it?” I heard my awed voice ask.
“Don’t know, but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Fiona crouched down to test the water with her hand.
I could only nod in agreement.
“Go swimming if you want,” Amelie offered.
“You have bathing suits?” I asked in surprise.
She laughed. “It’s just us girls here.”
“Maybe later,” I said, glancing back at the cave entrance. I wouldn’t risk being caught naked in front of Caden again. I had already filled my quota the other night.
“Fiona and Bishop practically live in here.” Amelie smirked, winking devilishly at the crouching vampire, who returned the wink.
“No wonder Jethro’s had designs on this mountain for seven hundred years,” Fiona quipped, laughing as she rolled off her feet to turn up the torn ends of her pants and dip her legs into the pool. Amelie mimicked her and reached her hand out to me, beckoning me to join them.
I happily obliged, sitting down between them to take off my sneakers and socks before sliding my feet into the warm, soothing water. “It’s like bathwater,” I murmured.
“I know. We can’t explain it,” Fiona said.
“It’s definitely warmer than that river you found me in, right?” Amelie said, kicking the water playfully to splash me.
“Why did Jethro want to drown you, anyway?” I asked.
“Oh, he wasn’t trying to drown me,” she answered matter–of–factly.
“He tied a cinder block to your ankles and dropped you in the river and he wasn’t trying to drown you?” I asked skeptically.
“We can’t drown, Evangeline, remember?”
“Oh, right. I forgot. Sorry. It’s going to take some time to get used to all this.” I’m never going to be used to this.
Amelie continued. “We can starve, though. The stuff they tied around my wrists and ankles is called ‘Merth.’ It saps all of our energy. And it hurts. My God! Like a thousand tiny razor blades, cutting into our skin.”
I grimaced.
“Exactly. No vampire can touch it. Well, except for mutants like Jethro. When they mutate, they become immune. It falls apart under a human’s touch though, as you noticed.”
“Oh. So why did Jethro want to starve you, then?” I amended.
“He was teaching me a lesson for killing a grizzly in his territory.”
My gaze dropped to Amelie’s slender frame, trying to picture the diminutive thing wrestling a ferocious grizzly bear with her bare hands. It was impossible; I just couldn’t see it. There was nothing intimidating about her, aside from her outlandishly beautiful face.
All of them—save for Rachel—seemed so normal. So human. Had I witnessed one of them tearing Jethro and his friends up, or if I had seen Caden skewer and torch the ape man, maybe I wouldn’t be so comfortable right now. But I hadn’t seen it. I’d only seen the aftermath and in my mind, the two didn’t connect. Even with Caden’s grave warning and his change in attitude toward me, I wasn’t afraid of them. Except Rachel. Was my intuition that pathetic? Or were they tricking me?
“Are you guys using your powers on me?” I blurted.
They both laughed. “No, we wouldn’t do that. But we don’t blame you for being paranoid. Besides, we can’t,” Amelie said.
“So that’s a myth?”
“Oh no, it’s not. But it won’t work on you. We think it’s because of your necklace. Caden tried the first night, before Jethro came, to keep you quiet, remember? But you started yammering away again.” Amelie’s hand opened and closed like a yapping mouth, teasing me.
I thought back to that night, tucked into the alcove with Caden … those deep pools that were his eyes, pulling me in. I remembered, alright.
“I know; it’s hard not to like me,” Amelie said, throwing her arm around my shoulder. “I’m extremely charming.”
“And so modest,” Fiona murmured, dipping her hand into the water to splash Amelie. Smiling, she put her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you safe. Nothing will happen to you.” Her smile suddenly faded as her eyes dropped to my pendant.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, a second before I noticed the constant burning against my chest begin to fade. I looked down in time to see the fire in my pendant blink out, leaving the heart its original dull black.
Fiona quickly slid away from me, pulling her hand back as if I’d just admitted that I had a communicable disease. Amelie’s arm dropped from my shoulder as well, but it was to grasp my hand tightly in hers.
“Let go of her,” a voice shouted behind us. I turned to see Caden rush in, Rachel on his heels.
“It might work,” Amelie murmured.
She’s trying to come back with me, I realized.
“That’s not the issue, Amelie,” Caden yelled.
“I won’t hurt her,” she snapped.
“You have no way of knowing that.”
I didn’t hear the rest of the argument.