Page 62 of Blood Moon

You cannot run from the shadows when you are the night.

Article I, Lost Letters from Aadan the First

A small crack ran through me. I was led from the washroom to the long hall. The man from earlier was at one side, Thea on the other. Tears progressed in lines down my face, fusing to the tulle of the veil. I was half vampire, half human. I was the daughter of a murderer. I was about to die.

A pipe organ played as we entered a new space, its tune decrepit, the chords pricking at the drums of my ears. The room felt different, larger. Even partially blinded and at a distance, I could sense the presence of others. Could hear them breathing jaggedly as they watched me stumble forward.

Thea removed the metal bands, and the man pushed me against something wooden and hard with a thud, strapping in my ankles and wrists. My body elevated in space.

I twisted trying to get loose. It was the sound of heels clacking against the floor that startled me. The noise familiar and grim. Not her again.

“Vivamus, moriendum est!” she shouted. A confirmation it was Abba. “Let us live, since we must die!”

I wanted no part in this ritual. I screamed and twisted, trying to pull myself out of the leather straps. They only rubbed against my skin, digging deeper.

“Enough!” Abba yelled, and someone ripped the veil from my face.

The air in my chest felt stolen as I glared at the scene before me.

Small candles lined the black stone floor.

Against the walls were oil lamps, casting a soft glow in the room.

Above, a glass ceiling. The Blood Moon bright, coloring everything a shade of ruby.

Here, I stared in awe at how enormous it was.

It was as if someone had tied a string around it, pulling it closer to the surface of the earth.

Recessed lights flickered on one by one as a group of individuals dressed in heavy velvet cloaks paraded in, joining the others in the room. Apart from me, everyone here was adorned in black.

To my right, a stone altar. A gold chalice sat atop it, filled to the brim with blood. Beside it, a leather-bound book with a title in a language I couldn’t read.

The cloaks formed a circle around me, and the first to remove their hood was Abba. She smiled as she held a silver dagger against her chest. A moon and sun were carved into the handle.

I screamed, and the sound was something horrid.

All the while, I was trying my damned best to wiggle out of the straps, knowing full well that if I made it out of the restraints, they’d only put me back.

To be here, tied up the way I was, was humiliating, and if these moments were my last, I desired nothing more than to be the hell they put me through.

Almost instantly, the wind was knocked out of me. Blood pooled in my mouth, and snarls arose.

“I did not want to do that,” Abba said as I caught my breath, lips quivering. “But I will gladly do it again if you do not shut up.”

The others removed their hoods, and in the front of the circle, standing two people away from Abba, was Julian.

Julian, the son of Elena. A direct descendant from Aadan the First.

Julian, who was motherless because of my own mother.

Julian, the boy who had lied to me over and over again.

And me, who had allowed it.

His head was down as his hair fell forward, refusing to regard me. Beneath the cloak, he wore a black dress shirt, black slacks, and black shoes. A funeral he was attending, mine. Only he was completely healed, skin shimmering from moonlight, beautiful as ever.

I hissed, spitting the blood from my mouth. “How could you—”

Abba yelled. “Do you want to die sooner?”

I redirected my stare to her, wishing to undo these ties, so I could undo her flesh.

Abba smiled. “Good. Now, one more peep, and I will sic them on you, and they will rip you apart.”

I beheld the cloaks, sharp teeth on display.

“Mirabella Anise Owens, you are here on behalf of the sins of your ancestors. Hundreds of years ago, on the night of a Blood Moon, your people deceived us, leading the Elites to us. Because of it, Blood Lycans were murdered and wounded, even after the vampires had sworn to fight with us to the very end. Do you know what it’s like to have someone go back on their word?

” Indubitably. He stood two feet away from her.

I groaned. “What are you talking about?” I begged, my voice weak, scratching at my throat.

“Enough with the parody, Mira. You must know that you are the last known living descendant of the vampires that turned their backs on the Blood Lycans. We can smell it all over you. Not only will you pay for the sins of your ancestors, but you will pay for the sins of your mother.”

I frowned, pissed. More data was revealed.

A history I knew nothing of. Another reason they detested me.

All of them had originated from vampires who caused mass destruction and chaos to these lands, but so did I.

The caveat being that my bloodline stemmed from the specific coven that betrayed the Blood Lycans.

My mother descended from those who promised to keep the peace after the treaty. What a hand to be dealt.

“Unless …” Abba paused, waving her hands dramatically, the dagger catching the crimson light of the moon. “… you can tell us where she is.” A pearly white smile appeared as she waited.

“I haven’t seen her in years.”

The smile vanished. “Well, that is just too bad,” she said, and I laughed, the sound wretched and rolling from my belly like a boil. I laughed and cried, hiccupping at the cruel gag that was my life. All the answers I’d begged for were here, unfurling before me, and I was dying for it.

What a sadistic game.

Abba shouted, dismayed by my reaction. “Do you think my sister’s death was a joke?

Fourteen years ago, Elena set out to find your mother.

To kill her to pay for what her family had done.

Instead, she found you.” Abba glowered, pointing the dagger at me.

“Do you know how rare dhampirs are? They come around once every thousand centuries, and each time they wreak mass destruction and havoc—something you’ve already done.

You are a monstrosity,” she said, and I bit down, wishing I were the monster she said I was.

Because if I were, we’d be standing in ruins.

Abba sighed, as if bored by her own story, and she eased the dagger to her side.

“Thus, when Elena found you, she resolved to slay you both. Two birds, one stone, they say. Only, she wanted to kill you first, Mirabella. You couldn’t have been more than four or five, a feeble thing.

But Elena wanted your mother to feel what it was like to lose everything.

To suffer how we suffered. You haven’t the slightest idea how many of your people killed us in the dead of night.

Dozens gone in the blink of an eye, and for what cause?

To return to the Elites? To be more powerful, perhaps?

And now, here we are, more than a decade after Elena’s passing, finally finishing the job she started.

” She grinned manically. “It is strange how life takes a turn, isn’t it? ”

Rena killed Elena to protect me. That was why she wanted me hidden, because of who I was, because of the price on our heads.

I choked on tears until Abba snickered at the sight of me. I leaned forward, spat. It landed right before her shoe. She growled and launched toward me with sheer rage in her eyes.

At this, Julian glanced up, looking at me for the first time. He moved forward, a breath from Abba, and I watched him whisper something. It was insistent enough to hinder her.

She folded by two steps. Straightened her stance, chin tilted high.

Then Abba turned to Julian. “Come now, my son.” She extended a hand, and he took it, cloak falling to the ground.

Abba kissed him on his forehead and placed the dagger in his hand.

“Blood for blood,” she whispered. Then she repeated, said it louder. “Blood for blood!”

Julian gripped the dagger, but his focus was on her. He was commendable in a way. Soulless, black eyes appraised Abba. Shoulders set back. Head held high. Destined Alpha. A midnight prince. Perhaps, by sunup, he’d be their new leader.

Abba approached the altar, picked up the chalice, and raised it above her head. “Blood for blood,” she said, and she took a sip before passing it to everyone down the line.

They partook, wiping their mouths on a delicate ivory handkerchief offered by Abba. Julian was the last to sip from the chalice before Abba turned to me. The Blood Lycans glowered with red eyes, lingering on every move she made.

“You will drink the blood blessed by our ancestors,” she said adamantly, and she held the cup to my lips, plugged my nose.

I was forced to finish it. The blood thick and salty like the sea.

It slid down my throat, cold and sludge-like, igniting a flame behind my ribs, filling a hidden place beneath my skin, beneath my bone.

Blood dripped from my lips, down my chin, and splattered onto the white gown I wore. She didn’t offer me the handkerchief like she’d offered everyone else. Instead, she set the emptied chalice on the altar and beheld Julian.

A transferal of something happened then. All at once, my vision became clearer. My heart thumped at a rate that seemed lethal. A tingling skittered through my marrow, making me cold and hot. Fingers bent as I warped in an unforgiving pain.

“Your mother killed my sister like the undead thing that she is,” Abba started, and I screamed, my own voice shocking me.

“She was protecting me!” I cried. “I was a child!” Faces filled with shock as they stared. Heads moving left to right, murmuring. This time, when I jolted and moved, I heard a tear. Leather ripped.

“Kill her!” someone shouted.

Abba stomped a foot. “I have it under control!” She faced me. “Let me finish!” She insisted, spit spraying from her mouth. “I will not be made to look like a fool.”