Vampire Morsels: Kateesha

CONTENT WARNING: Sex, blood and violence, not only separate but all together. You’ve been warned.

As I prepped my notes for work on Ties of Blood, I noticed that I have a lot of side characters who, for one reason or another, don’t get any “me” time.  so, I’ve decided to remedy that in a collection of short stories called…

Kateesha

(You can find Kateesha in Shades of Gray & Legacy of Ghosts. Her story takes place in May, 1868, roughly a three years after the American Civil War. Also, another special guest appearance by Jorick ;) )


Kateesha and Daniel steered their horses through the trees. The night clung to their shoulders like the black cloaks they wore, and they moved through it wordlessly. Ahead, shafts of moonlight danced into a clearing. Kateesha stopped and threw back her hood. Her dark skin gleamed and her mahogany eyes skimmed the surroundings.

“I can smell them.”

Her partner reined his horse to a stop and looked left to right, his eyes invisible beneath his hood. Though she couldn’t see them, she knew them. She’d gazed into them more than once, watched as his pupils flared and shrank with blood lust.  They made her think of another set of eyes; eyes so dark they seemed black, fringed in heavy lashes and shimmering with a thousand demons.

Jorick.

He’d been her partner so many times, in more ways than one. They’d come from the old world together, just her, him and their master. She’d sworn an oath of blood to them both, though she knew she would break it a thousand times over if Jorick told her to. On his word she’d betray Malick and damn the consequences.

She thought suddenly of her master. Though the ancient vampire was shorter than she was, he seemed a giant. His long beard and flowing hair were the color of fresh snow, and his eyes were like staring into the heart of a lightning storm. When she’d last seen him, he’d sat at a long table and glanced absently at a piece of parchment. “It appears we have a coven in Arkansas that has overstepped their bounds. My daughter, you and Daniel will bring these wayward children back to us so that I may chastise them myself.” A dark look came from one of the council members and Malick added, “Gently, of course.”

 “Of course, Father.” Though they used those titles, the relationship was not of human birth. Rather, he was her father in blood; her father in darkness. The mysterious man who’d swept through the brothel and brought her an immortal kiss, promising her a new life and a mate for eternity.

Jorick.

“Where are they?”

Daniel’s question brought her back to the task at hand. “Near.” She motioned towards the source of the scent. “It appears they’ve chosen to gather in the woods. However, their den is not far from here, if our information is correct.” She spurred on her horse, “Giddyup, Aethenoth.”

The animal whinnied and followed her directions at an easy pace. Kateesha breathed in deeply, as if seeking assurance. Yes, she could smell them still. Five men, or the remnants of them now made immortal. They gathered around a campfire, no doubt more for comfort than for warmth or light. Beneath their scent was the smell of human blood from more than one source. They’d made their meal and either kept the corpses or neglected to clean themselves.

The camp fire was suddenly visible between the trees and she slowed her horse to a walk. Old leaves crunched beneath his hooves and small animals scurried away. Though vampires could move silently, the horses couldn’t.

She signaled to Daniel and they stopped and dismounted. She tugged a sword from her saddle and motioned him to do the same. She hid the weapon under her heavy black cloak and crept forward. As they drew closer, she could see five figures huddled around the fire. They wore tatty, stained gray uniforms, relics of the newly ended war. Beards sprouted from their chins and faces, clotted with gore and blood. Seven bodies lay crumpled on the ground around them. Five wore the Union blue. The other two had dark skin and were dressed as civilians, or more likely ex slaves. All of their throats were identically torn out. The youngest, a boy of perhaps fourteen, still twitched. His eyes rolled in his head and his blood dyed his shirt crimson.

Daniel laid a hand to Kateesha’s arm. She stopped, an annoyed question in her eyes.

“Perhaps I should speak with them?” he suggested.

“Why?”

The word was cold, and he shivered under its power. “Because you’re a woman. Few men take orders from ladies.”

His reason was a lie and they both knew it. It wasn’t her sex they might take exception to, but her color. Though the human’s president had freed the slaves, and been shot for his efforts, the citizens of the south still held the same opinions they had before.  “I’m no lady, but fine.” Her tone was a soft purr. “You play the mighty man, and I’ll stand in the shadows this time.”

Daniel drew to the fore and she followed a few steps behind. They were nearly within the circle of light before the vampires noticed them. Their heads snapped up in unison and they squinted uncertainly at their visitors.

Kateesha reached out and touched their minds. As she moved from man to man, she saw scenes of blood and death; battlefields, dead comrades, a bleeding wife, a burned house, the twisted bodies of children. Yes, war was cruel and it had fostered this coven. They’d been nursed on the teat of destruction and nurtured by prejudice and ignorance. It was a coven destined to cause trouble.

The blonde nearest to the dying boy spoke first, “And who might ya’ll be?”

Daniel opened his cloak and flashed the silver medallion he wore around his neck; three pieces of intertwined metal that formed a twisted knot. “We’re here on official Guild business.”

A vague understanding washed over them. “If I rightly understand, that there Guild is the vampire gov’ment, ain’t it?”

Kateesha snickered behind her hood and Daniel answered impatiently, “Yes. Your presence is requested immediately.”

They laughed. Daniel’s body tensed. “This is no laughing matter.”

”Maybe it is and maybe it ain’t,” the blonde replied. He stepped forward and adjusted his bloody coat. “Why don’t yer try invitin’ us nicely?”

Daniel ground his teeth.  Kateesha moved next to him and silenced him with a thought. “I’ll handle this.”

“Is that a woman?” a redhead demanded. “This gov’ment’s sendin’ women ter do men’s work? Pshaw, we ain’t got nuthin’ ter worry ‘bout.”

“Don’t you?” she asked, her voice silk. “You are cordially invited to accompany us to the Guild’s fortifications where you will have an audience with our Master. Will you ever so kindly accompany us?”

They laughed again and the blonde slapped his knee. “Now that’s more like it. Good to see a woman what knows her place.” He turned back to Daniel. “Despite your right hospitable invitation, I’m afraid that me ‘n the boys will have ter decline on account a the fact we got too much work ter do here. The war may be officially over, but we reckon that with these new abilities we ought ter be able to start ‘er up again real soon. I reckon we could take a whole regiment by ourselves. Give them Yank bastards sumin’ ter think about.”

Kateesha’s laughter was light and silvery. The men glared at her, arms crossed over their chests. “And just what do yer find so funny, Miss?”

She dropped her hood and fixed them with her dark eyes. “I doubt you could successfully route a company composed of orphaned children, let alone a regiment.” She saw his reaction in his mind; saw what he thought her punishment should be for daring to speak out to a white man. It had been the punishment of another girl; a slave girl. Bound, ravaged and left to die.  Kateesha’s hand went to her sword before he even spoke.

“Hey there! You watch what you say, you nig-”

The word fell unfinished. With a single stroke of the blade, Kateesha severed his head.

The men jumped back, eyes as large as saucers. The redhead cried, “Holy Jesus! Who are you?”

Kateesha smiled a broad, fanged smile. “I’m the devil, and I’ve come to collect.”

Of the remaining four, two ran. The other pair attacked, or tried to. Too young and inexperienced, Kateesha cut them down in seconds. The scent of blood filled her nostrils and stirred her in a way that nothing else could. She wanted it. She wanted the feel of it, the taste of it. She wanted to bathe in it while Jorick watched, but since he wasn’t there Daniel would do, just as he had before.  

Her eyes flamed with lust and she grabbed his hand. “Come, we’ll catch the others.”

They raced headlong through the woods. Terror and youth made their prey clumsy and their lead was quickly lost. The men squealed. The leader, a brunette, tripped over a tree root and crashed to the ground. The redhead fell over him and landed in a horrified tangle of limbs.

Kateesha threw aside her sword and grabbed the redhead with her bare hands. She knelt, one knee in the middle of his back, and pulled his head back to expose his throat. Daniel stood over the brunette, his sword pressed to his chest.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” the redhead whimpered. “Please, in the name a the holy mother, have mercy. We didn’ do nuthin’. I swear. I swear we didn’t do nuthin’.”

She leaned down, her breath hot against his ear. “Isn’t that a pity, then? To die as a punishment when you haven’t had the fun of the offense?” She flicked his earlobe with her tongue and he whimpered.  Her fangs scraped over the delicate curve of his ear and then, she bit. She clamped down savagely and tore. His ear came away in her mouth with a spray of blood.

His screams echoed through the trees. She spit out the ear and licked her lips, her dark eyes shining. The brunette vampire screamed and writhed under the point of Daniel’s sword. “Oh, God. No! Please, no!”

“Don’t worry,” Kateesha purred. “You’re next.”  She turned back to her bucking, shrieking prey and buried her fangs in the side of his neck, under the bleeding hole where his ear had been. She ripped the flesh, peeling it away. His blood was hot and thick, and she gulped mouthfuls of it. His screams grew louder, higher pitched, more horrible as she bit into his shoulder, rending skin and shirt together in a mangled mess.

She met Daniel’s eyes. His nostrils flared and she could feel his desire; his need. The hot blood pulsed in her hands. She lifted a palm full and licked it, wiping the last of it over her face and her neck, to the collar of her cloak. She arched her back, and licked her lips, promising him anything he wanted.

He was weaker than Jorick had ever been. That small display was too much temptation and he broke under it. With a savage snarl, he threw aside his sword and set upon his terrified captive. The younger vampire screamed as Daniel’s fangs tore through his flesh. Hot blood sprayed out, coloring Daniel’s face and sandy hair.

Kateesha laughed and attacked her victim again. This time it was his wildly waving hand; his wrist. The bones snapped and popped and he shrieked. She could hear his terrified thoughts. He begged God to let him die, to let him pass out. Anything to end this torment. Thanks to his immortal blood, no such grace would be granted him.

The rest of his limbs cracked easily and she left him lay, broken and bleeding in a heap. Her heart raced and the smell of his death intoxicated her senses. But not just his death. The blood of his victims was still fresh in his system and not yet fully mixed. She could smell them; smell the negro and his life of labor, and the soldier and his prayers to see his new baby one more time. She could taste them and the cocktail inflamed her.

She peeled back her robe and gathered handfuls of the blood. She brought it to her mouth, and let the excess run through her fingers. It streamed over her heaving cleavage and down the bodice of her gown. She looked up to see Daniel watching her, his face and clothing covered in blood. The brunette vampire lay dead beneath him. His back was torn open. His broken ribs and spine were shiny in the moonlight. Next to him lay the squashed remnant of a heart.

A Quick kill.

Without words, Daniel moved to her. She pulled him to her roughly. The broken vampire next to her moaned softly, not so lucky to share the fate of his comrade. She wiped blood from his shoulder and smeared it over Daniel’s face and his eager lips. His tongue darted out and cleaned her fingers. Without breaking eye contact, he smeared blood over her cheek, down her neck. She leaned back and tore at her dress and the corset beneath. Cloth ripped beneath her impatient fists and she discarded the scraps.

With fresh handfuls, he painted her dark breasts in crimson. She moaned and ground her hips against his. He pressed back, his need a hard knot of urgency.

She tackled him to the ground. He writhed beneath her and she straddled him, rubbing her body against his. She stared into his eyes, not black but green. They weren’t the eyes she wanted to gaze into, but they would do for now. They would be a vehicle to her memories, to the night in the eastern territory so many years ago when she and Jorick had bathed in the blood of the rogues. She’d drawn scarlet symbols on his skin and licked him clean again. She could still remember his scent and the soft growl when he surrendered to her and the blood.

She closed her eyes and mentally conjured Jorick. Sightless, she ripped at the clothes of the man beneath her, no longer Daniel, but another. She tore away his cloak, his shirts, and ran her hands over his naked chest. He groaned her name; a plea to end the agony of his need.

A plea she would gladly grant.

With an inhuman howl, she sank her teeth into his shoulder and bit. His hot blood filled her mouth and the world shifted; pulsed. He bit back, his teeth sharp. The pain was delicious and then it melted into something more. Her every nerve burned, quivered, screamed.  Torn between ecstasy and agony in a world of shimmering shadows and screaming desire. It no longer mattered if he was Jorick or Daniel or someone else. Only the blood and the need mattered.

Something pulled her from her trance-like absorption and she released Daniel, though he held on, his teeth buried in her arm, his expression glazed ecstasy. She turned her face to the broken redhead. He lay next to them, his gurgling mouth opened and his dying eyes wide. Kateesha laughed and wiped the blood from her.

“Do you want some?’ she asked huskily. “Do you want to die like you’ve never lived?”

Before he could answer, she sank her fangs into his good shoulder and his world exploded in a flash of nightmare pleasure.

Traveling by night, it took them a week to get to the Guild’s fortifications in Iowa. Half brick, half wood, what would soon be a monstrosity was only partially finished.  Kateesha could imagine the coming grandeur, but she didn’t care. This was already the third location since she’d come to the new country. It would move again.

Malick waited in the audience chamber, a long, low room paneled in wood. Five chairs sat at one end, under an antique tapestry. He sat in the center chair, a pale woman on his left and a dark skinned male on his right; two of the five council members.

Malick’s thundercloud eyes swept over the newly returned pair. His question came like a gentle slap, “Where are those you were sent to bring back?”

Kateesha dropped to her knees before him. “Father, they were troublesome and we were forced-”

“Forced?” The room seemed to shake with his displeasure. “Would you lie to me? I can see the events in your mind! I see the orgy! Is that what you make of your missions? Do my orders mean so little to you?”

Kateesha could feel his fury. “No, of course not, Father!” She dared to look up and offered him her most winning smile. “They were of little use. Ignorant, uneducated, filthy-”

“As were you when I found you!”

The smile disappeared from Kateesha’s face and her eyes went as cold as ice water castles. “They deserved their deaths!”

The dark council member leaned forward. “It is not your judgment to make! Your job is to carry out your orders as they are given to you!”

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “You have disobeyed too many times, Kateesha. You are a dangerous element that has proved uncontrollable, and your partner in this is no better. Leave us while we decide what your fate will be.”

Kateesha felt the blood drain from her face and her stomach twisted. There was only one fate for breaking the laws: death. Panic consumed her and she threw herself prostrate on the floor, her hands on Malick’s feet. “Please Father!” she cried. “We’re sorry! We did not mean to disobey you! It will never happen again!”

“So you’ve said before,” the council woman answered sharply. “Yet here we are. Your words are lies that you shine with your charm. I will not fall prey to such traps. Now leave us!”

Kateesha snarled at her and turned her eyes to Malick. “Father, please! Forgive us! I beg you! Have mercy!”

Malick withdrew his feet and pointed silently to the door. His face was as unreadable as marble, and the blood in Kateesha’s veins turned to ice.

“Go,” the dark council member ordered. “We will call for you when a decision is reached.”

And so they went. Not just out of the audience chamber, but out of the building, to the stables. Their horses were too tired to be taken again. Kateesha threw a single, regretful glance back at Aethenoth as they rode away on someone else’s steeds.

The horses ran full tilt and only when they could take no more did Kateesha call a halt. Daniel slid from his saddle, his eyes on the lonely road behind them. “They’ll hunt us.”

“Perhaps. Would you rather have stayed there and waited for your death to be handed to you?”

His silence hung heavy. At last he answered, “No.”

“Good. Once the horses have rested we’ll need to find shelter. It will be morning soon.”

Daniel nodded and then, in a tone so low she could hardly hear, he asked, “Do you love me?”

The question caught her by surprise and she laughed. “Should I?”

He looked away. His mouth twisted unhappily. “We’ve been partnered on several missions now. We work well together.  We-” he broke off but she could see the bloody memories in his mind.

“We fuck well together?” she asked unabashedly.

He balked at her language, but didn’t deny it. “I’ll do anything you want me to, you know that.”

She patted down the horse absently. “I’ve heard that a hundred times, or a thousand. That’s the second line every man uses, right after ‘you’re beautiful’.”

“You are,” Daniel said quietly. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

“And that’s the third. Next you’ll promise me your undying devotion, and maybe your soul.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “It’s the same. You’re all the same.”

Except for Jorick.

Daniel had no reply.

They rode for days. When they grew tired of running they took a farm house and kept the occupants for their dinner. They dragged their deaths out to a week, but then they drained the final child.

“We will have to hunt tomorrow,” Kateesha said as she mopped herself up.

Daniel nodded absently, his eyes still clouded with the after moments of their feast. His clothing lay in a heap beside him and the last of the child’s blood was smeared across his chest.  He gazed at Kateesha as she cleaned herself and pulled on layers of white linen undergarments.  A chemise, a corset, petticoats-

A knock sounded on the door. While Daniel went stiff, shocked back to the present. Kateesha sniffed the air and smiled. She could smell their visitor. She knew who he was and she knew what he wanted, but she was sure she could persuade him otherwise.

She wrenched the corset opened so that her ample breasts nearly spilled out the top, and carefully smoothed her hair.  After a quick glance in the mirror, she dropped one strap of her chemise, leaving her shoulder naked and whispering to be touched.

That should be enough.

She opened the door and let her eyes drink in the man before her. Tall and lean with broad shoulders and silky hair as black as midnight. She knew how that hair smelled and smiled at the memory of it wrapped around her fingers.

His voice was neither hostile nor friendly, only impatient. “You know why I’m here.”

“No, Jorick,” she said innocently. “I have no idea.”

“Malick sent me.”

“Did he?” She gazed at him from under heavy lids, and let her eyes slide lower, past his belt. Her tongue flicked out involuntarily and traced her full, lower lip. “I thought perhaps you’d come to see me.”

Jorick drew back a step, his face hard. “I’m married now.”

Kateesha leaned against the door frame and pouted. “Yes, I know, and to such a plain, timid little thing. Can you truly be happy with her? Oren’s sister would suit you more. Even that little girl in Texas would have been a better choice. Sarita, wasn’t it?”

His nose curled with disdain. “You know I have no love for Spaniards.”

“She wasn’t a Spaniard, but a Mexican and she filled your bed easily enough.”

“There is a difference between sharing love and a bed.”

“And do you love this new woman, this Velnya? Can you really?” Kateesha was suddenly on him, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts pressed against his hard chest and her lips brushing his neck. “Can she really give you all the things I can?”

“Enough.”

Jorick knocked her away. Surprised, she stumbled and landed on the floor in a heap of petticoat. She jerked to her feet, her forehead puckered in anger. “Don’t do that again!”

“I’ll do it as many times as necessary. Malick ordered me to spare you, so get out of my way!”

She reached for his mind and plucked the scene from it. The council was angry. They shouted. They demanded her blood. Jorick must be sent. Only he was strong enough to do what must be done without falling victim to Kateesha’s charms. But Jorick was tired. Newly arrived from a dispute in Indian territory, he wanted to go home. His little wife needed him.  She sent terrified letters, afraid of the local population. Cattle had died. First only a handful and then by the herd. They blamed her. They called her a witch. But Malick owned him the same as he owned Kateesha. He’d given them his blood and gotten their unwavering loyalty in exchange. Jorick was nothing more than his dog, and his request was denied. Only… No. Privately, Malick made a deal. He would free Jorick from his debt if he spared Kateesha and took only Daniel’s life. Jorick agreed quickly. He had other things to attend to.

Jorick shoved past Kateesha and stormed through the house. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes. She heard Daniel shout, and then she heard the scuffle. Wood smashed. Something ceramic broke to bits. Then, Daniel screamed.  At the sound she had a sudden vision of his lust filled eyes locked with hers and something fluttered in her chest. She dismissed it cruelly. Daniel was nothing. He was a diversion. A replacement.

Jorick reappeared, a splash of blood across one cheek. Kateesha moved quickly and used her petticoat to wipe it away. He jerked back and glared at her. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t you?” she asked, packing every innuendo she could into the syllables. “Velnya will keep for a night.” She caught his hand and tugged him towards her. “I’ve missed you, and I know you’ve missed me. Come, for one night it will be like it was. Do you remember that night under the stars, after we’d defeated the rogues?” She pressed against him again and looped an arm around his waist. “Do you remember the way they tasted? The way I tasted?” Her lips hovered over his throat. “I remember your flavor-”

As if he’d suddenly broken free from a spell, he jerked away. “No!” He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “No.”

“But, Jorick, I love you.” She reached for him. He caught her hands and held them away from him.

“No, Kateesha, you don’t. You love a shadow. I’m not that man anymore and now that Malick has released me, I am free, and I won’t be that man ever again. I don’t want to be.” He dropped her hands and turned for the door. “If you value your life I suggest you give the council at least a year to forgive you before you stage a return.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, but ducked out into the night. She glared at his disappearing figure with narrowed, burning eyes. How dare he reject her? How dare he turn his back on her? On a whim she could make any man crawl through the mud for her, begging for a word, a touch, a taste. How dare he resist!

He’s leaving!

She threw her pride aside and plunged out into the darkness. He stood next to his horse, one foot in the stirrup. She rushed towards him. “Dammit Jorick! You are who you are! You can’t run from your nature simply because you wish it to be something different! You can not take shelter in a falsehood!”

He paused to look at her. “That was never my nature, Kateesha, only yours and Malick’s. It is the falsehood I’m running away from.”

He swung into the saddle in a smooth motion and nudged the horse forward. Kateesha’s hands turned to fists at her side. “You can’t hide, Jorick!” she screamed. “You love me, and you know it! I was made to be with you! You belong to me!” Her words turned shrill and hysterical. “I will have you! One day you will beg me for mercy on your knees! Do you hear me?”

He didn’t look back. His only acknowledgement was a flippant half wave. Then, he spurred his horse forward and rider and animal raced away into the darkness.

Kateesha stood alone, her petticoats gleaming white under the moon and one fist raised as she shouted, “Do you hear me, Jorick? You’re mine and you’ll always be mine! Do you hear me? I own you! I own you!”

There was no answer. She dropped her fist and glanced back to the opened door. Inside Daniel lay in a pool of his own blood, shattered and dead. She shoved away the burgeoning emotions. She couldn’t afford to care. Daniel was of no consequence.  Jorick was her goal. They were bound together for eternity, whether he understood that or not. He was hers and ultimately she was his.

Regardless, he’d  chosen Velnya over her.

Only for now, she told herself. Only for now. One day he will repent his choice.

She’d make sure of it.

*******

Next up is Nirel. I know zero about him, so it should be a good chance to do something random. I *think* there are only four left to go before I’m done and ready to put out the collection on Smashwords/Amazon/B&N etc. I intend to leave each story on Smashwords etc. for free and do the collection for $.99. Mainly it’s to put them on Amazon (who does not allow free books) but what the heck, someone might be willing to pay a buck for all of them in one file rather than downloading each one individually as there are 16 total. 

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Vampire Morsels: Kariss

As I prepped my notes for work on Ties of Blood, I noticed that I have a lot of side characters who, for one reason or another, don’t get any “me” time.  so, I’ve decided to remedy that in a collection of short stories called…

Kariss

(You can find Kariss in Legacy of Ghosts. Her story takes place in Iceland and bounces back and forth between 1784 (during the Mist Hardships) and the early 1820′s)

“Who are you, again?”

Kariss ground her teeth. “I’m your granddaughter, Pala, Kariss’s daughter, remember?”

The old woman nodded and Kariss relaxed a little. How she wished she could tell her the truth.

The truth.

Truth was a word that meant dark shadows and screams in the night. It wasn’t the thing her mother needed right now.

Her mother coughed, the signal she had something to say. Slowly, she worked her voice up and croaked out, “Kariss was a good girl. Did you know that? She was always a good girl. Until she disappeared.” The old woman squinted and peered through the gloom. “Where were you when she disappeared.”

“I wasn’t born yet.” Another lie. “That’s when she met my father. I’ve told you that, Grandmother.”

“Hum. Maybe you have. I don’t think so well these days.” She coughed again, long and ragged. “Where is your grandfather? Where is Vagn?”

“He’s dead.”

The cold wind rattled the house and Kariss shivered, more from habit than from cold. The cold didn’t bother her anymore, not since the darkness had taken her. The darkness stole many things from her, including the sun. If only it had taken her heart with it. Then, she wouldn’t have to hide in the shadows and watch her mother die.

“It was during the Móðuharðindin, that’s when she left. Have I told you about that? The livestock died. Everything died. Kolli died, and Kariss disappeared. Her brothers looked for her, but they’re gone now. Where did they go?”

“Manitoba,” Kariss answered. That was what the weathered letter next to the bed said. It seemed that everyone had gone to Manitoba.

“Yes, yes. That’s right. My sons have made lives in another place, except for Styrr and Athan. The famine took them. Athan was Kariss’s twin, did you know?”

His name brought with it a pair of laughing blue eyes and a head of curly brown hair.  A crooked smile beamed at her from the memories and her chest tightened painfully. “Yes.”

“He was killed by a man who wanted his food, but he didn’t have any. I can’t remember his name now. It was so long ago. That man’s wife died and I always thought that drove him insane. Athan was a good boy and he knew it. There was no bad blood between them. It was the loss and the hunger. It makes people do things.”

Kariss nodded wordlessly.  She’d imagined his death a hundred times, and each was worse than the one before.

“I named them after the Kappas. You don’t know them, they left, went home or somewhere better. They stayed with Fjola that summer. They had such lovely names.” She broke off into a cough. “They’re gone now. Everyone is gone now. So many have left. There will be nothing left. Even Kariss has left.”

“I’m here, Grandmother.” She took her mother’s withered hand in hers and squeezed it softly. The return pressure was light and fluttery, like a butterfly. So weak.

“Your hand’s cold, child! Cold like the wind.” She closed her tired eyes and murmured softly, “Cold.”

She touched her mother’s withered cheek, so different from her memories. In her memories her mother was stern and firm with bright, flashing eyes and a temper to match. It was only when Kariss’s father kissed her that she softened. And then she would smack him and tell him to behave. “We have enough children!” she’d say and point to whichever was nearby. “Do you want another one like that one?”

Watching her parents had been like peering into her own future, only instead of Vagn it would Kolli. Kolli would come home and she would point to one of the children and say, “Do you want another one like that one?”

No. She didn’t want that. Or she thought she didn’t.

No one knew where Andrei came from. He breezed into town just as the Mist Hardships were at their worst. He was exotic and intoxicating, and he stole much of Kolli’s attention. Then came the news that Kolli and six others were killed in an accident.

When Athan told her, her knees gave out. He picked her up and cradled her while she cried. Her words were thick with misery. “Not Kolli. No, not Kolli.”

“He wasn’t the only one,” her brother reminded her gently.

The others didn’t matter. Why didn’t Athan understand that? “Not Kolli.”

Athan carried her to the house. Her mother met them at the door. Her face said she’d already heard. She laid a rough hand on Kariss’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Kariss cried harder. What did sorry do? It didn’t bring her future back to life!

The moon was full when he came to her. She heard his whisper in the mist and rose, half fearful and half hopeful. The grass was cold under her feet. The night sang its symphony in her ears. She covered her nose to hide from the thick air.

And there he was.

“Kolli!”

She ran to him, but stopped short. It was him, but it wasn’t. He was wrong. His eyes were too bright, his hair too shiny, his skin too smooth. She took a step back, suddenly afraid.  He smiled.

His teeth were too white; too sharp.

Like fangs.

She screamed. He caught her in his arms and hauled her away from the house. He whispered soothing words and they seeped into her brain. Andrei was in the hollow just beyond the hill. He stood ringed in old flowers and silvery moon light. He held out his arms in welcome.

“Welcome.”

The word whispered through her brain and she trembled. She felt him run through her mind like white lightning. He withdrew and her trembling legs folded on themselves. She landed on her knees in the withered grass.

“She is worthy.”

Kolli hurried to her and she flinched away. Terror shook her lips as she whispered, “You’re dead. They said you were dead.”

“No, Kariss. Andrei saved me, and he can save you, too.” He took her hands in his. “If you accept it and swear yourself to him he can give you ever lasting life. You will never grow sick, or old, or hungry. It’s true freedom.”

Freedom.

It was a beautiful word, but it was a lie. There was no freedom. It was only enslavement of another kind; enslavement to the darkness, to Andrei’s whims, to blood.

A tear slipped from her eye and she caught it on her finger tips. The old riddle came to mind, one her brother had asked her: I was born in your eyes, live on your cheeks, and die on your lips. What am I?

What am I?

The answer to that question was one word; one horrible word that she refused to think about. If she could only shut it out perhaps it would go away. Maybe it would all go away. Only, it wouldn’t.

There was a sound; a footfall. Soft and muted in the snow. She stiffened and sniffed the air. The familiar smells of home were there. Under them was something else equally familiar. Musky, heady.

He is here.

She stood quickly. Her mother stirred in her sleep, as if she sensed the intrusion, but she didn’t wake. Kariss fixed her blankets with trembling hands, then hurried to the door. She flung her cloak over her shoulders as she plunged out into the night.

The sky spread above, strewn in crystal clear diamonds. The salty tang of the ocean filled her nose. In days gone by the cold would have stung her cheeks. Now it only caressed them like the cool hands of a lover.

“Kariss.”

He was suddenly in front of her. His pale face gleamed in the moonlight and his angry eyes glittered with the light of a thousand stars. The same eyes she’d seen on that long ago night under the full moon.

Her breath caught and his name came to her lips like a worried sigh, “Kolli. You found me.”

“Of course I found you. I knew where you’d be.” He reached for her. At the last second the caress turned into a slap that made her ears ring. “What did Andrei tell you? It’s one of the rules, you can never go back! Someone might recognize you!”

She stumbled back, hand to her face. “Some rules are meant to be broken, Kolli.  She’s my mother, and she is dying all alone!”

“As did my mother, and my sisters and your brothers and countless others. We gave them up when we accepted his blood. That was the price we paid for this freedom.”

“What freedom?” she asked bitterly. “To wander the nights eternal while all we once knew withers? What freedom is that?”

“The freedom of life.” He caught her and pulled her to him. She resisted, her spine straight, but the familiar warmth of his arms softened her. “We are alive, Kariss. Alive and together.” He nuzzled her neck and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Unless you anger him. I’m – I’m sorry for being harsh, but what would I do if he punished you? What if he…” he choked off, but she knew the rest.

What if he took back the life he’d given?

She found no words, only stood wrapped in his arms and the cold wind.

He let her go and took her hand. His eyes searched the landscape around them and a faint smile played on his lips. “Do you remember when we were young?” He prodded the snow with his boot. “Do you remember how we used to wait for the first snowfall? And when it came, like a blanket to cover the world, how we used to run through it? Do you remember how we used to make angels? And then the spring would come and melt it all away.”

“Yes, I remember.”

He breathed deeply, as though inhaling the memory. “What will you do now? Will you share it with her?”

Both the question and answer made her stomach clench. “No. She’s too old and frail. Her mind is gone. I doubt even the blood would bring it back.”

“I am sorry.”

And she knew he was. If she closed her eyes and concentrated on the tiny pulse of him in her mind, she could feel his sorrow, like an aching tooth. He was sorry for her and for himself, and so was she.

He let go of her hand and stepped back. “Take tonight but no more. You’ve been here a week already and we can’t risk any more. Tomorrow when the sun sets we must leave. Andrei is waiting.”

“Did he send you after me?”

“He didn’t need to, but yes. Our blood debt is unpaid. Until it is, he owns us. You know that as well as I.”

He turned away and started up the hill. After a handful of steps he stopped and turned back. “Only tonight, Kariss. Tomorrow we have to go back.”

Though she nodded, it wasn’t in agreement.

The house should have seemed warm, but it didn’t. Andrei’s blood had taken that, too. She sat next to her mother’s bed and watched her sleep.

She remembered the rest of that long ago night. Intoxicated with his blood, she’d run back to the house. Her feet failed her and she dropped. Fire sliced through her. The pain would pass and she would run again, as if hell’s demons followed her.

And maybe they had.

She banged into the house. The door left open, moonlight spilled in behind her as she stumbled to her mother’s bed. Mother could make it all right. She could take away the burning pain, the terrors screaming in her brain. She could save her.

She fell on her knees next to the bed. Under her heavy gaze, her mother stirred in her sleep and muttered, “Vagn, tend the fire.”

Nonsense from her dreams.

Kolli’s footsteps were soft. He stopped behind Kariss and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Come. Pack your things so we can go. Andrei is impatient. Everything will be better now. You’ll see. We’ll be happy.”

Happy. Kolli had been wrong. It had been so long since she’d felt happy that she’d forgotten how.

She stared through the darkness and listened to the winter wind howl. It was a lullaby for the damned and she knew the words by heart. She knew the empty, aching darkness it screamed about.

Her mother coughed and she turned her eyes to her. She watched her chest rise and fall and listened to the heavy, labored breaths. How many more would there be? A hundred? Half a dozen?

The rasping breaths were torture. The sluggish heart beats were agony. It could go for days, for nights, for weeks. She could linger, slowly decaying, while Kariss sat at her side, forever young, forever whole, forever safe.

How much more could she stand?

She brushed her mother’s gray hair from her face and she woke. She fixed Kariss with a pair of watery blue eyes and asked weakly, “Who are you?”

No more.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She met the blurry eyes and focused on them; focused on the feeble mind behind them. “Sleep. Sleep and dream of better days. Dream of your husband and your children when life was sunny.”

Her mother’s eyelids sagged, and then dropped. Kariss bit her lip until she tasted her own blood. This was not the mother of her memories. Gone was the stern face, the flashing eyes, the quick temper. This was a feeble woman waiting for the angel of death to take her away. If he refused, then so be it. She would play his role.

She leaned over the sleeping woman and breathed in her leathery, sick bed scent. Gently, she turned her mother’s head to one side, exposing her wrinkled neck. Her lips hovered over the pulsing vein.

“Goodnight, Mamma. Sleep and be free.”

She struck.

Her mother’s eyes went wide. Her whole body jerked, suddenly animated. Kariss pressed her down into the bed and drank. The hot blood filled her mouth. She swallowed it, mouthful after mouthful. Her mother’s feeble limbs waved once, twice, then fell still, too weak to fight, and still Kariss drank. She reached for her mother’s memories, buried under layers of too much hardship. She sorted through them, sifting, seeking. And there it was.

The sun shone. The snow sparkled. A bird called, loud and harsh. She stared through eyes that weren’t her own; her mother’s eyes. She looked at the assorted children that peppered the wintery landscape.  They ran and laughed. They fell and rolled and made angels in the snow. They were all good children, or as good as they could be. All too thin and too loud, as children were want to be. She didn’t have much in the world but she had them and Vagn and so she was happy.

Happy. That feeling Kariss had forgotten.

The scene faded. Kariss fought to hold it, but it ebbed away with her mother’s life. The old woman fell still on the bed and there was only blackness inside her head. Black and cold like the winter night.

Kariss pulled away and wiped tears and blood from her face. The old woman stared back at her with wide, glassy eyes. The wound on her neck bled and scarlet blossomed on the pillow.

She swept from the house and into the night. As if he’d known what she’d do, Kolli stood nearby, waiting. She stopped next to him and he took her hand. His eyes moved to the stars and he said softly, “Aren’t they beautiful? I remember when we used to lay in the grass and try to count them. It seems so long ago, yet nothing has changed.”

Her voice was wet with tears. “You’re wrong Kolli. Everything has changed.”

“No, Kariss. it’s only we who have changed.”

In that moment she understood the truth. You can never go back. It wasn’t a rule meant to protect yourself from discovery, but to protect your heart. You could travel to the places of your childhood and drink in the faces of those you’d once loved, but it could never be the same. It wasn’t that they had changed, but that you had changed. So long as you stayed away, you could tell yourself that you were the same, but when you stood face to face with the past, you’d find only the dark, ugly truth and all the illusions would melt away, like her forgotten happiness and the lost angels in the snow.

************

I have no idea what happened to Kolli later. He’s an example of a side character spawned by a side character. I could write this stuff forever in a tangled web of random characters. Oh well, it guarantees me something to do ;)

Next up is Kateesha, though I don’t know what she’s going to be doing. Maybe another origin story. Or maybe she and what’s-his-name will murder that coven and get kicked out of the executioners and Jorick will hunt them down. I dunno.

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