Page 3 of The Vampire Debt

My hands shake, but I’m smiling. My smile is probably too wide. I can’t help it though. The mixture of nerves, of fear, of vindication is strong. For two years I’ve been going out into those woods every chance I got to hunt, always hoping in the back of my mind that I would come across one of the monsters. Always hoping the one who killed Mother would return and I could repay that life debt.

I refuse to be a food source for them. I refuse to be shoved down to the bottom of the food chain just because evolution dealt them a winning hand long ago. I refuse to allow them to be the only ones able to seek out justice for crimes.

I make it to an alley where there are always boxes and garbage piled up, and toss in my bow and arrows into the rubbish. I hesitate, but only for a second. It’s a waste of money, but I can’t risk having them traced back to me. It would spell death, not only for me, but my family as well. I quickly remove my jacket and the outer layer of clothes to mask my scent alongside the bow.

My own clothes are wrinkled and smell of sweat. I smooth them down as best I can, then head back out into the throng of people milling about in the square. This time, making sure I am seen by as many people who know me as possible. I even go so far as to greet some I don’t know.

I am tired and hungry and am in desperate need of a bath, but it is still many hours before I can make my way home.

Though I move slowly from vendor to vendor, my heart still pounds wildly from what I did.

Today, I have made my own justice.

Today, I have done what others in this town have only ever talked about but are never brave enough to do.

Today, I have signed my own death warrant.

I’ve just killed a vampire.

Chapter Two

Clara

Vampires rule our world,and demons haunt the shadows. The vampires come and go as they please and we humans are little more than chattel. Our purpose is to serve them and to feed them. For the most part we remain safe as long as we follow their laws they set forth, and keep our heads down, and remember our place.

We humans travel between villages on rare occasions, as most of us would rather not get caught outside after nightfall. In the dark, we are playthings for whatever demons we are unlucky enough to cross paths with.

Once a year, during the claiming, the vampire court will come to our rundown village and demand a human, or several. Some even gladly go, willing to be servants to the monsters.

The thought of it sends a shiver crawling down my spine. No one knows what becomes of any of them. Perhaps they do live in a world of luxury doting on their vampires, enjoying soft comfortable plush beds at night. Or perhaps they are nothing more than a snack for the long ride home, or worse. I can always imagine worse, but for now I shove the thoughts aside.

A drop of water splatters on my cheek. It is the first sign of rain—realrain—after this endless bog of mist that has been plaguing us all week. I think at this point I would rather be soaked through then perpetually damp.

Most shop owners are at the entrance, attempting to lure any and all passersby inside. The more desperate of them have spilled out onto the sidewalk, with makeshift booths.

Passing several, I lift a scarf from a woman too busy to notice me as she deals with a particularly unpleasant vendor. Then a cloak carelessly set aside by another. I turn the corner wrapping the cloak and scarf around me before anyone can notice the items are missing.

I shuffle through the crowd of villagers keeping my head down. I glance around feeling as though a shadow hovers just outside my peripheral. My shoulder bumps a man. He grunts rudely, muttering under his breath.

Giving him a simpering smile, I mutter my apologies to him as I place one hand on his arm, distracting him from the fact that my other hand is in his pocket pulling out his pathetically light bag of coins. I hadn’t meant to run into him. Usually remorse presses down on my chest when I steal, though with the particularly nasty ones the feeling is lessened when snatching up a pocket watch or lifting a bag of coin.

With a bag this light, it seems he spent most of his money trying to make himself look rich, or he’s too cheap to part with much when he goes into town.

As if any of us care about rich fabrics and ostentatious finery. For a few citizens in this small village, a hot meal and a warm bed with enough legroom to stretch out is something they enjoy every night. For the rest of us though, all we ask for is a roof over our heads, enough coal to keep our homes heated against the worst of the chill, and a hot meal a few nights a week.

He starts to turn away, sneering at me, and I take the man’s antique watch for good measure.

I would never steal from someone struggling to get by, knowing the pain of going to bed hungry for far too many nights in a row to inflict that kind of hardship on someone else. I’ve always made it a point to take only from those who can spare a little something without putting them in dire straights.

I glide away from him and lose myself in the crowd. A moment later the man’s outcry cuts through the crowd. “Someone stole my watch—my coin as well! Where did that thief go?”

Perhaps I was a little heavy handed today—a little too greedy.

Having run out of our supply of salted meats and pickled vegetables, we are close to starving. It’s been all I could do for the last week to avoid Father’s temper. Always demanding money and food as if we were still rich.

Though I’m more likely to get caught, it looks as though I’ll have to pick pockets for at least the next week, possibly two. I’ll have to avoid hunting for game in the woods. I can’t let anything connect me to the death of that monster. To get caught would be instant death by the closest vampire… and it willnotbe a good death.

I duck into the nearest alley and crouch behind some boxes and wait until the furious man gives up looking for me.