Page 27

Two very rare creatures indeed.

I t’s only when I slowly begin coming back that I realize I was gone. Lost in some kind of soulless monster stage or something. And I only know this because when I open my eyes the purple-gold mist is still kinda there and I catch it at just the right moment to watch it fade, withdrawing back into Syrsee like she is the source of all that magic.

And she is, I guess.

This is when I remember what happened to us. I don’t understand it, but I remember.

This is also when I realize that we’re sitting in the truck, in the town of Mount Royal, right in front of the general store. It’s the middle of the night so the part of the sign that says ‘General Store’ is lit up, but flickering. More off than on, so that the horse and rider symbols on either side are sometimes the only thing visible in the dark.

It takes several more moments for me to actually care about all this because I am lost in my head. Thinking about road trips, and wing buds, and little witch girls who put a spell on you. Thinking about root cellars, and jars of magic, and bacon. Then Paul and Josep, who I can’t even picture in my head. I know he was there. I know he was drinking me, and me him. But what he looks like, I can’t recall. Maybe I don’t remember. Maybe I never saw him. Maybe he was never really there.

Maybe none of this is happening?

“Ryet?” It’s almost a whisper. And when I look at Syrsee, I see why. The purple and the gold is all gone now. There is no more mist in this truck. But it took something of her with it. Because she is very pale and looks very weak.

I reach over and put my hand on her face. “Are you OK? Do you need to feed?”

Her eyes brighten with the invitation to drink, but only a little.

“You do need to feed.” I bite my palm, then hold it up to her lips. She grimaces. Like the blood is making her sick, even though she hasn’t started drinking yet.

She pushes my hand away, shaking her head. “I don’t want it.”

I’m not sure it matters if she wants it. In fact, I’m positive it doesn’t. “It’s got nothing to do with wanting it, Syrsee. You need it. You don’t look good.”

She scoffs, her eyes finding mine. “Well, I’ve been through a lot, so sorry I look like shit.”

It comes out defensive, and I don’t blame her. I’m not even sure there are words that explain what happened to her.

“Sorry.” She blows out a breath. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I’m not feeling quite myself.”

Even though I’m worried about this—how she looks so sick right now—it feels… right. Maybe right is the wrong word. But at the very least, it feels… real. Whatever happened to us in that dream walk didn’t feel real. Didn’t feel like anything, actually.

But we were severed from our souls .

That is such a big deal I’m not sure I’ll ever grasp the full meaning or consequences. But I do know one thing—when you lose you soul, you should feel it.

I didn’t feel it when it happened. I don’t even feel it now. But I see it. I see it in Syrsee’s eyes, in her pale skin, and in the way she’s slumped in the seat. Like she’s exhausted.

Like she’s… sick. Like she’s a person dying. Someone you know is fading fast so you go to them. To say a final goodbye.

She looks like that. Like she’s only half here now. Like she might fade right before my eyes.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I understand.”

My understanding makes her attempt a smile. “Yeah. You do. You’re the only one, Ryet. The only person I have on this whole planet who understands what happened to me. And I hate that you do. I hate that you were there. That you saw it all. And that when you look at me now, you know. And you’ll be thinking?—”

“I’ll be thinking… about how much I crave kissing you.”

She’s looking at me in confusion.

“I’ll be thinking about how much I crave complimenting you.”

“Complimenting me?”

“Isn’t that what we decided? In the beginning there was Ryet and Syrsee. She was pretty and he couldn’t stop himself from telling her so. He drank her blood, but what he really craved was her kisses. Isn’t that what we decided?”

She lets out a long breath, like she was holding it in. Then she nods. “We did decide that. But that decision feels like a very long time ago. And our situation was decidedly simpler.”

I reach over and take her hand, lacing our fingers together. “Actually… it’s all been pretty fucked up since the beginning, Syrsee. And I’m not talking about that night in White River when all you wanted was a cheeseburger and found yourself a vampire instead.”

“Ham sandwich.”

“What?”

“I think I was craving a ham sandwich that night.”

I smile, shaking my head at her. “The point is, it was never OK. It was always a lie. And I’m only speaking for me here, but I’d rather know the truth than live a lie.” I nod my head at the general store. Sitting right there in front of us. Waiting for a decision. “I’d rather face it head on than hide away, pretending.”

Syrsee blinks at me. “We don’t have souls , Ryet.”

“I don’t think we ever had souls, Syrsee. And if we did, they certainly never belonged to us. So as far as I see it, nothing’s changed. We’re here. Not back in the dirt. And I don’t know if we’re alive or what this really is, but it’s real enough for me. So we’re not gonna give up. We’re gonna live. Because we’re gonna go in there”—I nod my head to the store again—“and we’re gonna tell whoever’s in charge that I will cooperate. And we’re gonna go to that Guild place and you’re gonna read the books and find us a cure.”

She’s not convinced, and neither am I. But part of this new reality we’re living in is faith, I think.

Because faith that this is possible is the only way we win.

Belief is a powerful motivator.

“OK?” I ask her.

She thinks about things for a few more moments. There are only two choices. Go inside and face the truth so we might beat it. Or drive away and live in ignorance, sure to fail. So it wasn’t a real question I was asking, just a way for her to see the two paths clearly. And she does. Because she says, “OK.”

I give her hand one more squeeze, kiss it as I look her in the eyes, then we let go of each other and get out of the truck.

We spend a few more seconds looking up at that flickering sign, then we walk forward to the door and I pull it open. There was never any doubt in my mind that the door was unlocked. And it is. A bell jingles as we pass through. Then Syrsee leads me through the back and into a hallway. We turn a corner and at the end of the hall there is a door made of frosted glass and a shadow can be seen pacing on the other side of it.

Suddenly the shadow turns towards us, then the door is opening.

A man. Tristin, I think. But I’ve never met him, so I can’t be sure until Syrsee introduces him.

“Tristin, this is Ryet.” She looks at me and smiles. “This is Tristin. He’s on our side.” Then she directs her gaze to him again. “You said if we come together, we’ll be safe and I will be allowed to read the books.”

“That’s correct.” Tristin says this very seriously, looking Syrsee directly in the eyes. “Come home, Syrsee, and we will protect you.” Now he adjusts his gaze to me. “You as well, if you need it. But just so we’re all clear here—nothing is free as far as you’re concerned. They want to study you. So if you come and accept our protection, you’re agreeing to that. Do you understand?”

This is the proper place to stop and gather up all the details, thoroughly sort through them, and make informed decisions. But there’s no other way forward. So whatever the Guild wants from me in exchange for Syrsee’s safety, I will give it to them. So I nod my head. “I understand.”

Tristin exhales. Like he was holding his breath. And his smile is immediate and big. Like he just won a prize.

And I guess he did.

A Black witch and a vampire—two very rare creatures indeed.

He opens the door wider, inviting us into the lounge. We enter and follow him through another door, down a hallway, and then we stop at the end in front of a blank wall.

He says some words in a language I don’t speak, and then the wall turns into a mist. Not purple, not gold, but silver. And slowly, the mist is replaced with an entrance to a massive room, empty of people, but filled with books. Hundreds of thousands of books.

He brought us right to the library.

Tristin walks through and I start to follow, but Syrsee pulls on my hand, stopping me. “What the hell is this?” She’s looking up at Tristin.

“You want the books? The books are yours. And you’ve got a lot to learn, Syrsee. So let’s get started.”