The Vampire's Reflection (7 page)

Charlotte reached over and pulled one particularly pathetic looking teddy bear into her lap. Bringing her knees up, she wrapped her arms around the thing. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, causing the light in the room to blur. “It was awful. I was in the square. There were so many faces. I searched, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“Hush!” Mr. Třínožka abruptly pressed a finger from one of his long, front arms directly to her lips. He was sweater-clad. Something Sarah had knit him for the winter months. He glanced around. “We mustn’t speak of nightmares here, girly. Evil feeds on ’em, don’t ya know it. It’s bad luck. You’ll bring about misfortune. If ya speak of the nightmare, it may come true!” The giant Phaser, with the face of a kindly, elderly man and the lower half of an arachnid pulled his human-like hand away from her face and replaced it with another one of his hands that was clutching a cup of tea. He offered it to her. He was a strange, half-transformed shifter that was perpetually in between his two forms, the upper half of his body still human-shaped. He and Edwin were the greatest misfits she’d ever known and she loved them both dearly. “Everything’s fine
now
, ain’t it?”

Charlotte nodded.

“My dear…if you ever wish to flee a nightmare, all you must do is turn on the light,” he whispered.

She took the steaming cup of tea from him and nodded her response. “I suppose. I don’t know what’s gotten into my head lately.” Her heart sank as the fresh images of her night terrors continued to replay in her mind.

“D-don’t even th-think about it, Ch-charlotte,” Edwin stammered as he collapsed into his chair. He removed his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his cloth nose.

The massive Spider man ruffled his mustache and harrumphed, crossing his two front arms. He reached up to adjust the copper-colored goggles on his head before he unraveled his scarf and tossed it to the coat rack. He crossed the room to add another log to the fire, a waft of his butterscotch smell floating to her on the slight chill in the burrow. Old Man Winter always knew just where to creep in.

“It’s finally gettin’ cold out there,” Mr. Třínožka grumbled, rubbing his two front hands together before the fire.

Edwin’s button eyes continued to stare sadly at her from behind his spectacles. “H-how’s your s-scar, Charlotte?” His attention flicked to the Spider for a moment as he was handed a ceramic cup of tea as well. He closely examined the chip along the edge before taking a sip.

Charlotte grimaced, dropping her gaze.
Her scar
. It ached a little. She rubbed at it lightly. “It’s fine,” she lied and cleared her throat. “Is Valek home yet?” She’d feel better if she saw him.

Charlotte knew Valek didn’t like her to stay alone in the house, now more than ever. The truth was, she didn’t much like being alone in the house, either. Not when they all knew Aiden was still at large after their battle at the Regime. Not when they didn’t know where he might be hiding now. Not when
she
didn’t know how Aiden had transformed after Valek’s bite, and the sort of additional powers he might harbor now.

Since the Elven magic had worn off in the coven’s system more quickly than they originally predicted when they’d gotten their first taste of the sunlight, they all had gotten a little obsessive with their newfound pastime for Elf-hunting. Suddenly so addicted to their newfound freedom, the coven would never go back to what life used to be without it—dying every morning with the rise of the sun. Their caged existence, forever in the night, had been miserable. She understood that. Charlotte shuddered with the memories of Lusian, in the dankness of Francis’ basement, impaling himself on his hatchet to get his dying process over with faster. The image played over in her mind a lot—the way he looked at her as the life left his eyes. How tragically ironic, she thought, that the curse of being undead actually meant dying over and over again.

The thought of Valek being outside in the light made her nervous, though since the Regime had been toppled, there were no real borders between the human cities and the Occult’s anymore, anyway. At least that’s what Lusian had been arguing. However, Valek couldn’t have disagreed with him more. Sure, he went hunting like they all did, but he had been vocal in making his opinion extremely clear on just how stupid it would be to let their guard down now. He’d tried to tell them that with Aiden still alive, and without knowing what form he had taken, the coven needed to be more vigilant now than ever. Obviously, they did not respect his orders. Especially now that Francis was gone and the coven had named no real leader in the elder Vampire’s place.

“Valek should be gettin’ home soon, darlin’.” Mr. Třínožka started to unwrap her from her soft, warm prison of down and quilt. “You’ve been asleep for a coupla hours. Right, tuckered out, you were. I guess from not gettin’ much sleep recently, with your affliction and what not.” He leaned in closer to her. “You’ve been lookin’ a little pale there, girly, iffen you don’t mind my sayin’. You were screamin’ something else…about your scar there.” He indicated softly the slight, crescent lift in her skin at the side of her neck. “You sure you’re all right?”

It throbbed delicately, and she winced before nervously clearing her throat, attempting to shift the conversation away from her strange ailment. He was right. Sleep hadn’t been the priority lately. She lifted herself from the cushiony chair, setting down the old teddy bear she’d been clutching in her place.

“Good evening, Mr. Třínožka. Edwin. Sorry for the screaming,” she said with a forced smile.

“Take care of yourself, girly.” He ruffled his mustache before ducking into the kitchen portion of his burrow while Edwin waved his goodbye, though he continued to stare at her with that inquisitive, sort of sad expression he always had when looking at her. It made her chest tighten.

Charlotte ducked from the hanging brass pots and weaved between the massive cobwebs, iron gears, antique dolls, and cuckoo clocks. The Spider fancied himself a treasure collector, though Edwin joked that it was all nothing more than trash.

She began to climb up the newly formed tunnel that Mr. Třínožka had created to connect the large house at the end of the town square to the Spider’s earthy home just underneath. Reaching the stark light of Valek’s office above her, she pushed the trap door open and pulled herself up into her home. She left the door open in case either Edwin or Mr. Třínožka wanted to come upstairs later that evening.

Vampires didn’t make much noise, but the house seemed too quiet nonetheless. There was a certain energy that was missing, and Charlotte could tell Valek and the others hadn’t returned yet. Usually, she came home to find the twins, Ana and Aneta, clamoring for one of Valek’s blood packs in the kitchen or the usual argument between Jorge and Mr. Třínožka over an ensuing game of chess, but there was nothing, with the exception of her own quiet footsteps.

Disturbing images from the nightmare continued to replay in her mind so vividly; she hardly saw the house before her as she moved through it. Still feeling stiff, she stretched her arms wide, her joints cracking.

Hearing a sharp sound, Charlotte nearly leaped out of her skin, though relaxed instantly when she saw that it was Sarah. The fragile-looking Witch, with a doll’s face and hair, bounced into the foyer from the kitchen. Sarah cradled a large ceramic mixing bowl in one arm, stirring the contents with her free hand. Her brown banana curls were wound in little twists on either side of her head, pinned there by tiny, violet flowers. The smell of brown sugar and cinnamon wafted from the bowl and nipped at Charlotte’s senses, though it made her stomach lurch as a result.

“What are you making?” Charlotte started awkwardly, forcing a smile.

“Sweet rolls! With honey and cinnamon!” Sarah beamed. “Thought I’d try something new tonight. I know you’re getting sick of the cider and all that. I’ve found a new grimoire that depicts all of these special food spells!” Her normal twinkly little voice sounded particularly electric with her excitement. “This spell book is too incredible! It was hiding in the kitchen near the back of one of the shelves. It was absolutely
covered
in dust—”

“Do you mean a cookbook?” Charlotte concluded with a lifted eyebrow.

“Sure. Right, whatever
that
is.” Sarah grumbled. “How is your wound? It doesn’t seem like you’re writhing with the pain of it yet….”

Charlotte glowered. “No. Not yet.” Biting her lip, she turned from Sarah’s heated stare. The Witch continued to stir, but neither of them spoke as Charlotte twirled a lock of hair around in her fingers. The pause felt long and awkward as Charlotte racked her brain for a way to fill it, or at the very least, walk away.

“Sarah?”

“Yes?”

Charlotte hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t ask this. “Did Valek ever mention anything to you about his past? You know, when he was mortal?”

Sarah simply snorted and rolled her eyes, stirring her brew faster. “I know nothing, Charlotte. Valek barely discusses the weather with me, let alone his ancient affairs.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but notice the bitter edge to Sarah’s words. The Witch had become one of Charlotte’s closest friends and her only female confidant during their time hiding from the Regime. She was the only one in the house, aside from Edwin and Mr. Třínožka, who didn’t want to eat her. But after Charlotte’s curious addiction to Valek’s bite worsened, Sarah seemed to have stopped empathizing with what Charlotte was going through. Stockholm syndrome, she called it, furious anytime Charlotte would go running to Valek for a fix.

Sarah had made her opinion quite clear, that every bit about the way Valek was treating Charlotte was wrong. She no longer felt the need to keep quiet anymore. She was no longer enslaved to any member of the coven since Francis had been banished to the Dark City. Charlotte’s new, physical ailment wasn’t anything the Witch was able to solve on her own, and Charlotte knew that must have frustrated her type-A personality to no end. Once, she’d even eavesdropped on Sarah muttering to herself over a spell book in the library, trying to figure out a cure, no doubt. When the addiction had only just begun, Sarah recommended that Valek turn Charlotte to spare her of the dangers they faced now. But of course her argument was to no avail. Valek wouldn’t even hear of it.

Charlotte sighed as she recalled Valek storming off, slamming the doors to his office after the last argument. He and Sarah had refused to speak to each other for the duration of that entire week. She screamed for him to take Charlotte’s human life, and over and over again, Valek screamed ‘no’. All the while Charlotte listened from out in the foyer, unable to contain her tears. It was miserable.

Finally breaking the awkward silence, Sarah stopped stirring, dipped one of her slender fingers into the mix, and tasted it. Her tongue smacked against the roof of her mouth and she smiled, signaling she had gotten the recipe right. “It’s really good but it needs newt, I think.”

Charlotte mashed her lips into a thin, polite smile, though she tried desperately to conceal her grimace, wondering exactly what cookbook the over-zealous little Sorceress had found. Sarah’s specialty in her magical studies had always been in healing, but what set her apart was her ability to fix people—namely Charlotte—by adding her healing spells into her pastries and sweets to replenish blood taken from Vampire feedings. Valek’s feedings—for she needed it now as much as he did. Good thing, Charlotte thought. She didn’t want to think about what Sarah’s spells would
actually
taste like if they weren’t absolutely loaded with sugar.

“They’re all still out hunting,” Sarah said as she began stirring again. “They’ve not been back in hours. I suppose I shouldn’t tell you I’ve been getting worried.” She raised her eyebrows.

“At least they’re enjoying their freedom,” Charlotte mused with a pinch of bitterness. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt free. She longed for the days when she could travel back and forth over the border at liberty—hiding from the malevolent creatures —hunting in the night. She’d once likened herself to a great adventurer, with the dark duty to deliver her own kind to her Vampire guardian. Now, she was powerless and trapped. She knew the reason Valek was keeping her on such a short chain was a good one. She knew how afraid he was that something might come and steal her away from him again. Their world was still so plagued and dangerous. But she just couldn’t shake her growing misery, these same walls becoming unbearable to look at each day.

Valek didn’t need her any more now that he was out from under the Regime’s thumb and their prejudicial laws. She served a different role in his life. One that was less important. She took pride in what she used to do. There was no more protecting him. No more saving him. Now she was just the hunted—like all the other humans before her. The only things keeping her alive were Sarah’s baked concoctions and Valek’s promise that everything would eventually be okay again.

“That’s just the thing. They don’t have their freedom,” Sarah countered, snapping Charlotte back from her thoughts. “They act like they do, but they should all still be in hiding and taking full precaution. This war isn’t over. They have no idea where the Regime might be conspiring, and what kind of dangers are after them now. It’s still so very perilous! They’ve developed a lethal case of cabin fever. These mosquito-people have gone stir-crazy. Valek has gone to find the others to drag their tails back here before they’re all killed, I suppose. They know very well what the rules are. Valek was very clear in setting them. No extraneous hunting until Aiden is vanquished.”

Sarah mimicked the Vampire’s inflection so perfectly it made Charlotte’s knees suddenly go to butter. She frowned. What a strange effect.

“Ow!” Charlotte’s hand immediately flew up to the side of her neck when her scar scorched like someone was holding a branding iron against it. She dug her nails into the flesh in an effort to relieve some of the burning. It throbbed under her fingers,
searing
. Charlotte hissed at the blistering sensation, which didn’t seem to let up.