Page 8 of Vampire Solstice (Vampire Girl #5)

Chapter 8

The Preparation

T he air in the village is tense, crackling with fear and defiance. Snow swirls through the narrow streets as Fen and I make our way to the central square, where villagers gather in chaotic clusters. The sound of sharpening blades and the clatter of rusted armor fills the cold night air.

“They’re going to get themselves killed,” Fen mutters, his voice tight with frustration.

“They’re scared,” I reply, though I share his worry. “Fear makes people do reckless things.”

We step into the square, where a burly man—the same one who had accused Myra earlier—is rallying the crowd. “No more waiting!” he shouts, his voice carrying over the murmur of voices. “The beast will come, as it always does. But this time, we’ll be ready. We’ll kill it and end this curse ourselves.”

A chorus of agreement rises from the villagers, their faces set with grim determination. Pitchforks and rusted swords glint in the faint torchlight.

I step forward, raising my voice to address the crowd. “Listen to me!” I call, but my words are met with glares and muttered insults.

“Why should we listen to you?” a woman sneers, her knuckles white around the handle of a scythe. “You’re the Midnight Star. You’re the reason this happened to us.”

“That’s not true,” I say firmly, though the accusation cuts deep. “I’m here to help you. But if you face the beast like this, you’ll only get yourselves killed. Please, barricade yourselves inside…” My eyes scan the village. “There. The meeting hall. It’s the safest place, and we can defend it together.”

“Hide like cowards?” the burly man scoffs. “No. We’ve waited long enough. We’ll end this tonight.”

Fen steps beside me, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re not prepared for what’s coming. That beast is stronger, faster, and smarter than any of you realize. You won’t stand a chance.”

The man meets Fen’s gaze with a defiant glare. “We’ve faced it before. We’ll face it again.”

“And how many have you lost?” I ask, my voice soft but piercing. “How many more are you willing to sacrifice?”

A heavy silence falls over the crowd, but it’s short-lived. “You don’t belong here,” another voice calls out. “This isn’t your fight.”

Fen’s jaw tightens, but I place a hand on his arm, shaking my head. Arguing with them will only push them further away. “Do what you must,” I say, my voice resigned. “But when the beast comes, remember this: it doesn’t have to be this way.”

We leave the square, the weight of their stubbornness settling heavily on my shoulders. Back in the relative quiet of the cottage, I set the journal on the table, its pages worn and familiar. I’ve read it twice already, but I flip through it again, searching for anything I might have missed.

Fen stands by the window, his silhouette framed by the frost-covered glass. He’s watching the square, his expression unreadable. “They’re fools,” he says after a long silence.

“They’re desperate,” I reply, though my voice lacks conviction. I turn back to the journal, my fingers brushing over the passage about the Midnight Star’s curse. “There has to be something we’re not seeing.”

My gaze drifts to the statue of the Midnight Star in the square, visible through the window. Its weathered surface glows faintly in the torchlight, the figure’s outstretched hand pointing toward the forest.

“I need some fresh air,” I murmur, rising from my seat.

The snow crunches under our boots as I guide us to the dying Mythos tree and the statue of my predecessor. Up close, its details are even more striking. The Midnight Star stands tall and proud, her features serene yet commanding. Her hand points toward the dark woods, her expression resolute.

I run my fingers over the cold stone, desperate for answers, for guidance, for the wisdom to end this.

Fen stands beside me, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. The sun sets, golden torches and pale moonlight lighting the village. The cold grows colder. Another blizzard is coming.

A chilling howl echoes through the village, sending a shiver down my spine. It’s closer than I expected—closer than it should be.

“It’s here,” Fen says, his voice low and tense. His hand goes to his sword, his body coiled and ready for a fight.

The villagers’ shouts ring out moments later, followed by the unmistakable sound of chaos—screams, the clash of metal, the thud of bodies hitting the ground. The beast has arrived, and it’s wasting no time.

The burly man who challenged me before is the first to flee, screams tearing from his throat.

The rest follow, and the beast gives chase.

Their torches light the night, snuffed out as they fall to the snow one by one.

“We have to stop this,” I say, turning to Fen. My heart pounds in my chest, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. “Before anyone else gets hurt.”

We rush forward, placing ourselves in front of the beast. I notice the young boy, Micas, stumble past us, and gesture for him to hide. He runs to the meeting hall.

Fen’s voice cuts through the growing blizzard. “Ari, look out–

The creature leaps at me, and Fen lunges between me and the creature.

The beast runs straight toward us, leaping into the air as Fen places himself between me and the creature.

My magic crackles from my hands, ready to fight. But our intent isn't to kill, though the beast's surely is.

That puts us at a disadvantage.

Releasing short bursts of my magic, I keep the beast at bay as I try to figure out what to do.

It isn't until the creature breaks through Fen and slashes at me, clawing crimson lines into my flesh, that I realize what I must do.