Some people fear the things that go bump in the night. Some people hide from the darkness. But some people know that darkess is only the other side of light. And sometimes the thing that goes bump in the night is only a friend as yet unseen.

Into a Familiar Darkeness: Serapha's Tale.

Serapha Rhiannon whooped with glee as she looped and spun through the clear afternoon sky. “You’re it!” she hollered as her outstretched hand just touched the tip of her brother Alan’s tail.

With a laugh he spun effortlessly in the air and chased after her. She squealed in mock-fright and fled as fast as her wings could carry her. She spotted her other brother, Arthur Flash (who insisted that everyone use both parts of his name) just ahead and ducked behind him, tempting Alan into changing targets. Arthur executed a rapid power dive and just managed to escape getting tagged. Alan banked ruthlessly after him, the pair tumbling down toward the ground, and Alan tapped a paw firmly against his brother’s back as Arthur pulled up just in time to avoid slamming into the dry tundra grass. With a growl Arthur pumped his wings, seeking the advantage of altitude. “I’ll get you for this Flare!” he shouted, using his brother’s cub name.

Above him the rest of the family teased and taunted, all of them enjoying the game. Aidan grinned wickedly and buzzed his grown son, just escaping being tagged himself. Flame Song laughed at her husband’s antics, and then attempted to imitate them, with the result that soon she was the one chasing errant firecat-aerians across the sky.

Serapha managed to get the highest altitude and watched her family from above with a grin. She was too old for silly games like this, and she was the youngest, but none of the family had ever really lost their taste for such play, not even her parents. Not that you would know to look at them that Aidan and Flame Song were the parents of the other three. To a casual observer Flame seemed about the same age as her eldest daughter, Ariana, who was twenty-seven, and who was missing from the familial scene because she had gotten married and moved out only last year. And Aidan looked little older than Serapha herself, who was only seventeen.

Suddenly Serapha noticed a thin trail of dust far off over the tundra. She squinted and could just make out a horse and rider. As she watched they came close enough for her to see that the horse was a blood bay and the rider had golden blond hair.

“Hey! Damien’s back!” she shouted.

The game of tag came to a halt as the rest of the family sought altitude to see the returning brother. Arthur Flash peered to the east with particular eagerness. He’d been impatiently awaiting Damien’s return for months now. The rider below grew rapidly, and soon he was close enough for the others to make out his wide grin as he looked up and waved. He slowed the blood-red horse to a trot and then a walk as he circled the low hill beneath which the Rhiannon family’s home lay. The stout corral on the other side of the hill was empty, its gate standing open for Damien to ride into it. Even before he dismounted from the horse Arthur had landed in a flurry of white feathers next to him. The horse didn’t shy, being well trained and well used to such antics.

“Well, how did it go?” asked Arthur impatiently as Damien dismounted.

Damien smiled back, his own enthusiasm showing as plainly as his half-brother’s. “We’re set. I got six of them! Six foals from this last year’s birthing. Five mares, one stallion, and every one of them looking to grow up every bit as good as Lady’s Heart here.”

Arthur grabbed Damien in an impulsive bear hug. “Yes! It’s really going to work!” He let go, visibly bubbling with excitement and started asking questions. “How long until they get here? What colors, what breeds? Did Dark Heart sire them all or did you get several lines? How long do you think it will be before…?”

The rest of the family had reached the ground by this time, and they were all grinning at the horse-crazy pair. Flame Song shook her head and then glanced at the sky. “Not long before sunset. We should go inside and start getting dinner together.” With a murmur of familiar conversation they drifted towards the low entrance to the underground home. Serapha lingered for a moment, watching the sun sinking toward the horizon. She had always loved this time of day. Many of her fondest memories were of watching the sunset with her father, having long discussions of anything and everything that came to mind.

As if the memory had conjured him up, Aidan came up behind her, clearing his throat softly so his presence wouldn’t startle her. He moved with the trained silence of an ex-thief and warrior, not even a whisper of a footstep or a hint of a breath to give him away. She turned softly and smiled at him. He smiled warmly back, his eyeteeth, noticeably longer and sharper than normal for either humans or aerians, indenting his lower lip. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, an out-of-place statement in a world that called coins simply by their metal, coppers, silvers, or golds.

“Nothing really. I was remembering the way we always used to sit up on the hill, watch the sunset, and talk.”

Her father nodded softly. “Yes. You always loved sunsets and sunrises almost as much as I do.”

She chuckled a bit. “Well, I have to say I like sunsets better than sunrises. I never was a morning person.”

He chuckled with her. “No, neither was I, even before.”

Serapha’s expression turned a bit more somber and she asked softly, “Lately I keep wondering… What was it like for you, when you changed?”

“You mean the moment it happened, or learning to live with it afterward?”

“Well, both, I guess, but more the learning to live with it.”

Aidan’s eyes turned inward, remembering. “It was hard. There are benefits, but at first all I could see was what I’d lost, what was gone. And I’d always been taught that my kind--that vampires--are evil, that they’ve lost their souls. For a while I was afraid I’d lost mine as well. It was your mother who really pulled me through the first year or so, her and your older sister.” He looked back at Serapha, seeing her again and not the past. “What makes you ask all of the sudden?”

“I feel like everything is changing, like I’m changing,” she said slowly. “I know it’s not anything like you went through, but… I don’t know, I’m just suddenly not a little girl anymore. And then there’s the magic too. I mean sure I’ve had it now for more than four years, but I still don’t know where it came from or why. Nobody else in the family has any mage talent at all, unless you count shapeshifting and being fireproof, which I don’t.”

Aidan sighed softly, and a considering look crossed his face. Then he shook his head.

“What?” asked Serapha, curiously.

“Nothing,” was his reply. “Just… just nothing.” He looked at her with an unreadable expression that turned gradually into a fond fatherly smile that looked a bit out of place on his youthful features. He already looked younger than any of his other children, and in only a few years he would look younger than her as well, frozen forever by his change. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Shade?” he asked, calling her by her old cub name.

“No, I don’t think so. I just don’t want to stop having moments like this. I like being able to sit and see the sunset and talk to you.”

“We don’t do it as often these days do we?” said Aidan softly.

Serapha shook her head. “And I can’t remember the last time we went rambling together.”

“Would you like to go? Tomorrow perhaps?”

Serapha blinked in surprise. “Well… yes, yes I would.”

Aidan grinned. “It’s a date then.” His expression sobered a bit as he added, “Changes are hard, I know. But some things never change, and at least you can rest assured that you won’t have to deal with the kind of change I went through. And since you aren’t a vampire,” he added with a renewed smile, “you need to get some real food in you. Come on, dinner should be nearly ready by now.”

The next day’s dawn was as beautiful as the previous sunset had been, but the gentle light spilled over the hilltop unobserved since Aidan and Serapha were both sound asleep. Serapha snored ever so softly in her small bed in a modest room on the lowest level of the house. Aidan was not snoring, in fact he wasn’t even breathing, and to the casual observer he would have appeared dead. This didn’t seem to bother his wife any, for she was snuggled up next to him, one arm draped comfortably over him, and her own breathing was deep and untroubled, as were her dreams. After some thirty yeas of marriage she was well accustomed to her husband’s eccentricities, including those resulting from his vampirism.

Several hours later the house began to stir. Arthur Flash was the first one up, excited and euphoric over the successful horse purchases his half brother had made. Damien followed not long after, and the two were soon in a world of their own, discussing the potential of their future herd.

Flame Song got up next, dressing silently so as not to disturb Aidan. The cheerful chatter from the kitchen, which lay directly above her bedroom, woke Serapha not long after. She yawned and considered crawling back into bed. As deep underground as she was no hint of sunlight came in to disturb her sleep, but she remembered her father’s promised ramble and decided she might as well rise early.

Alan had joined the family for breakfast, and Serapha was almost finished eating when Aidan stumbled out of the master bedroom, blinking and yawning. He hadn’t bothered to dress yet, but as always he had his sun medallion around his neck. He stretched and blinked again in the bright light that now poured in through the open front door. Oil lamps provided a warm illumination, but in good weather the welcome glow of sunlight usually lighted the upper portions of the house. With the medallion protecting Aidan from harmful light there was no reason to keep the door shut.

Serapha waved a cheerful hello, and Aidan grinned and waved back. “Good morning. Or at least as good as any morning can be.”

“It’s a very good morning today! Can we go as soon as I’m done?”

“Go?” asked Aidan innocently. “Go where?”

“Dad!” said Serapha in a scolding tone, and everyone laughed.

“Sure, Shade. We can go this very instant if you like.”

Serapha wolfed down the rest of her breakfast and before long the pair were meandering across the low rolling hills of the northern tundra. Serapha was dressed warmly, for though spring was far advanced, the air still had a chill. Aidan hadn’t bothered with more than a light jacket. The cold didn’t bother him.

Either one of them could have taken to the air and flown, covering miles with ease, but both chose simply to walk, a slow rambling pace that was going nowhere in particular. They spoke together of this and that at times, pointing out some particularly interesting flower, or talking of day-to-day trivialities, and at times they simply walked in silence.

Serapha took one of those moments to really look at her father. Few people can see their parents objectively. There are too many memories, too many ideas and ideals from childhood in the way, but Serapha tried for a moment to just look at Aidan. Physically there wasn’t really anything remarkable about him, other than perhaps his small size. He and she were of a height; his sky-blue eyes exactly level with her matching sapphire ones. They had the same hair too, midnight black so dark it was almost blue, though Serapha’s reached to her waist where her father’s was cropped short, and they both had the same fair skin, but Aidan’s pale complexion lacked even the faint hint of a tan that brushed Serapha’s cheeks. They were built much alike as well, both slender but fit. And, of course, they both had the same angel-white aerian wings.

Serapha had heard the story of her birth, how she’d shapeshifted in the very moment she’d been born, changing from the half firecat, half aerian from that was her birthright to a near carbon copy of her father, as if she’d decided even then to admire and imitate him. She loved her mother dearly, of course, but there was a special bond between her and her father, the like of which she’d never shared with anyone else.

The sun was halfway up into the sky when Aidan peered towards the far horizon and said, “You know, I’ve never been out to those hills to the north. There’s nothing much up there, no reason to go, but I feel like exploring somewhere I haven’t seen yet. You game?”

Serapha smiled. “Why not? It’s not as if we have anywhere else to be.”

Without further conversation they took to the air, matching white wings beating rapidly as they fought for altitude. Once they reached a good height to glide they soared in silence, wingtips almost touching, over the tundra. At first glance the land below looked empty, barren, but if you knew where and how to look it was bursting with life. The migratory herds hadn’t reached this far north yet, though they would soon, but mice and rabbits, hawks and owls, foxes and the rare wolf pack, all these made their home there. There were also stranger things, things with a hint of magic and myth about them. Ice worms and tundra yeti, the occasional kobold, and very rarely an ice dragon, intelligent, aloof, and deadly. Further north, where the land ended and ice brooded over a seemingly bottomless sea, there were seals and polar bears, penguins and whales, narwhales and sea unicorns, and rumors spoke of a tiny colony of merfolk who had adapted to the cold of the northern pole. Serapha’s keen aerian eyes caught a flash of mottled white and tan; an arctic fox halfway out of his winter coat, but she saw nothing larger as they flew toward the northern hills.

They spent the next few hours poking around in the rough gullies and unexpected folds of the hills. They weren’t particularly high or imposing, but there was still plenty to explore. The sun was directly overhead when Serapha flopped down on a handy patch of grass with a contented sigh. Aidan smiled and dropped next to her.

“Maybe we should head home,” suggested Serapha. “I’m starving. Lunch was a long time ago.”

Aidan nodded and smiled. “Yes, and longer ago for me, though I’ll be fine until tonight if need be. I’m rather enjoying myself though. I haven’t wasted a day like this in a long time. Perhaps we could hunt up something?”

Serapha considered. She was half firecat, and that meant she was half wild predator, but she was more comfortable being aerian and eating cooked what the others in the family had hunted. Still, there was something… liberating about hunting your own supper and eating it when you caught it. She looked up at her father and smiled. “Why not? I haven’t hunted in ages.”

She stood up, gathering a faint sense of power around her. She knew her mother changed shapes without a second thought, flowing from one to another as naturally as breathing, but then Flame Song was a full-blooded shape-shifter, and had been changing forms for many decades before Serapha had even been born. She knew also that her siblings went about changing differently than she did. They lived much of their lives in the half-and-half forms of the their birth, suspended between aerian and firecat, and when they changed it was a matter mostly of instinct. With her though, it had always been conscious. Other than that first time when she chose the aerian form she most often wore she had not been able to readily shift until she came into her magic. She could feel the force, the inner strength of inborn power that every shapeshifter held, awaken and wrap its tendrils around her. She molded it, holding in her mind the form she wished, directing the power to remake her in that image. Her body blurred, the edges of her form dissolving as she reshaped herself. Her outer sight blurred as well, misting over as the change swept over her, though the inner sight that sensed the flow of magic never dimmed. When the blurring stilled she stood on all fours, looking out at the world from about waist height on her old self. She was a firecat now, her pure white fur striped with red and orange in flame-like patterns.

She took a deep breath, savoring her suddenly enhanced senses. She could scent a thousand details on the breeze, from the smell of green grass to the interesting mixture of human-like aerian and vampire scents that was her father. She could hear the faintest sounds, a veritable symphony of life suddenly audible all around her, and she drank in these sensations.

Not gifted with shapechanging, Aidan stood over her. He was twice her height now, but probably weighed less than a third of her compact feline bulk. She grinned at him toothily and said, “What are you waiting for?”

They hunted together with the ease of long practice, falling back into patterns learned in Serapha’s childhood. Aidan flew aloft, circling when he found game, and Serapha stalked it from below. She decided to challenge herself, after so long without hunting, and tried to take the first quarry they found, a brace of rabbits feeding quietly, alive. Her lack of practice showed, for she inadvertently broke the neck of one, and the other got away. With a shrug she stopped to eat the rabbit she’d felled, remembering anew the predator’s satisfaction in a completed hunt, but the small creature failed to satisfy her hunger, so she soon set out again.

Neither she nor her father felt any sense of urgency, so it was mid afternoon before she finally nabbed a second rabbit, this time succeeding in taking the creature alive. Aidan stopped down out of the sky on seeing her success and landed next to her.

“Here,” she said, in a somewhat muffled tone as the rabbit was dangling, kicking and struggling, from her mouth, “This one’s for you.”

Aidan took the rabbit from her, holding it immobile with the skill of long practice. He smiled his thanks and then turned away briefly, bending over the struggling creature. When he turned back it was still and lifeless. Serapha made short work of what remained and then changed back to her usual form.

“You know, I’ve never actually seen you eat,” she said in a speculative tone.

Aidan nodded. “I don’t like making people uncomfortable, so I’ve always tried to be a bit discreet about it.”

“But I’ve been around you my whole life. I’m not uncomfortable about you being a vampire. I don’t think it would bother me.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps not, but by now it’s an ingrained habit, and I’m not likely to change it.” Then he added, with a somewhat rueful tone, “And I’m afraid that even if you’re entirely used to it, I’m still a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. I still can’t quite shake the old notions about drinking blood.” Then he glanced up at the sun, almost halfway between zenith and horizon. “Maybe we should start heading back.”

“Probably. If we aren’t home by sundown, Mom will worry. But I want to walk part way. We still have time enough.”

Aidan nodded and the pair set of toward home at an easy pace. They made their way along the twisted gullies that threaded through the hills, working gradually downhill toward the more level tundra plain. As they passed through one particularly narrow channel, Serapha noticed a glint of white ahead. An extra chill on the cool breeze told her what it was. “Look! Snow! It must be deep enough here that it hasn’t melted.” She grinned at Aidan. “We can have a snow fight! Race you to it!”

Aidan laughed and followed after, but then he paused. Yes the breeze was chill, but the little ravine wasn’t really that deep. At noon the sun would shine on it fully. There shouldn’t be snow down here. Not unless there was something else keeping it cold… “Wait!” he shouted, his own blood suddenly seeming to chill. “Serapha! Don’t go down there!”

Serapha instantly halted, mere yards from the snow patch. “What?”

“There could be an ice worm!” said Aidan urgently. “Get back from the snow.”

Serapha’s eyes widened in realization and she began to retreat from the white patch. Suddenly there was a sound, a whispering, moaning, hissing sound, and the whole length of the ravine floor heaved under the snow. The snow patch was almost fifty feet long, and every inch of it was in motion. Aidan started in horrified, helpless fascination as the fringed head of an enormous ice worm rose above the snow. It went up, and up, and up, and even as Aidan screamed “Run Serapha!” it came down again. Serapha spread her wings, trying futilely to get in the air, seeing she couldn’t possibly outrun the thing, but it was already too late. The fanged jaws closed around her, the worm actually large enough to lift her off her feet. It caught her around the waist, pinning one wing, teeth digging into abdomen and back, and Serapha screamed with the pain.

Aidan was screaming too, yelling and cursing the creature as he drew his long daggers and rushed forward. It saw, and with an animal cunning recognized the danger of an armed foe. It dropped Serapha to lie in a heap on the ground and darted forward at the diminutive vampire, a fifty-foot snake covered in dirty white fur, exuding a freezing miasma into the air with every breath. Aidan was half blinded with tears, but he didn’t care about anything else in that moment but seeing the creature dead. He leapt fearlessly at it, wings spread to help him make the distance, and landed on top of its head. It twisted around, momentarily confused, but it quickly realized where Aidan had gone and began to shake its head back and forth in an attempt to dislodge him. Aidan however wasn’t wasting any time, and only a second after he landed on the ice worm’s head he plunged both daggers up to the hilt in one ice blue eye. The worm shrieked and thrashed, but there was nothing it could do. Both knives had entered its brain, and though the rest of it might take a while to figure it out, it was dead.

Aidan left the daggers in the creature’s eye and jumped off of it, away from the thrashing body. He raced to where Serapha lay in a heap. His long-still heart tried to jump in his chest as he saw the blood pooling around her. The air was full of the smell of it. He knelt down next to her, afraid to look, afraid not to look.

He looked.

Serapha lay partially on her side, partially on her back. He couldn’t see the tooth marks that surely marked her back, but he could see the ones on her abdomen. There were two rows of hideous punctures, one just below her waist, the other across her chest. He could see the white of her ribs showing where the teeth had not only punctured, but torn. He heard a gasping, bubbling sound as she inhaled, and then she let out a moan of pain. He knew it wasn’t good, the sound meant the thing had almost certainly punctured a lung, but at also meant that she was still alive. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her gaze pain-filled and unfocused. “Daddy?” She gasped again, tried to cough, and stopped with a whimper.

He moved closer, cradling her head gently in his lap, trying not to jar her, but wanting to hold her. “Oh Serapha…”

“I’m not going to make it, am I?” she asked, looking up at him, her face pale and spattered with blood, her breathing shallow.

He wanted to tell her no, to say of course you’ll make it, but he looked down at the mess of her torso and couldn’t. There was a chance that a good healer might piece her back together, but she would bleed to death long before any such could be summoned. And he didn’t dare leave her alone to go for help. The ice worm was more deadly than most creatures of the tundra, but there were scavengers in plenty that wouldn’t hesitate to finish off a helpless, bleeding girl.

“I…” he started and couldn’t say any more. He couldn’t lose her! He couldn’t! There had to be something… something he could do… and then he went perfectly still, a horrible, wonderful, insane idea coming to him. “No, you’re not going to make it,” he said after a long moment of silence. “But… there is still a way. There’s a choice. I never had the choice offered to me, it was forced on me and I hated it, but… most days I believe it’s better than dying. I can… I can change you, Serapha. But…” He paused again, the words coming with difficulty. “There’s a price for it, and you have to chose if you’re willing to pay it. Don’t chose to quickly. Even if you decide yes, it won’t work until after sundown. You have to hold on that long…” He stopped, looking at her again, knowing that the odds of her surviving until the sun had set were still horribly slim.

“Daddy…” she paused for several shallow, rapid breaths, “Daddy, I know you hate what happened to you,” pause again to breathe. “But it’s different with me. You were changed against your will,” pause, “your life was taken. Mine is suddenly gone already, and from you…” she stopped, catching her breath again, the pain evident on her face but somehow not in her voice. “From you it would be a gift. And I know what it’s like. I’ve watched you live as a vampire my whole life. I know what the price is and it’s not that bad. I don’t need more time to think, I’ve chosen. I want to live, if I can.”

“It isn’t exactly life, Serapha.”

“Isn’t it? You’re alive as far as I’m concerned. Dead men don’t father children, or raise them.”

He silently stroked her hair, having no answer to that, and a few more tears formed in his eyes, tracking his already tear-streaked face. He looked up at the sky. Already the floor of the ravine was in shadow as the sun sank toward the horizon, but there was still too much light. If he should share his blood with Serapha now, the shock of it entering her system would kill her, and the change could only take hold during darkness. The sun, even indirectly, would burn it out of her system faster than it could renew her life. “You just have to hold on Serapha, Shade, my Shadowfire. Don’t give up. Only an hour or so, that’s all.”

She smiled weakly up at him. “Only an hour…”

“Yeah. Not so long. Just don’t close your eyes, stay with me.” He spoke softly, keeping her attention, giving her something to focus on. He couldn’t remember afterward what he said during the impossibly long time he cradled her head and waited for sunset. He babbled whatever came into his head, and somehow, somehow his daughter’s eyes stayed open, she kept breathing, kept responding to his voice.

At long last the sun slipped below the horizon. He couldn’t see it beyond the ravine walls, but his internal sundial told him with perfect accuracy that the sun was finally out of the sky. He didn’t waste one second longer. Not bothering to retrieve his daggers or even shift Serapha’s head slightly to reach his boot dagger, he simply put his wrist to his mouth and tore his sharp fangs across it in one quick motion.

Blood welled up, a heavy flow of deep crimson. He put his wrist to Serapha’s mouth, letting the blood flow down her throat. From somewhere she found the strength to swallow, a simple act that was suddenly as difficult as lifting a mountain. The flavor of it wasn’t like anything she had tasted. It was nothing like the blood of rabbits or deer brought down in the hunt. Nothing like the taste of her own blood when she bit her tongue, but nevertheless it tasted somehow like blood, like the quintessential essence of blood, coppery and hot, even though it should have been cold. Her father’s hand against her cheek was cool to the touch, but somehow the blood in her mouth was like fire. It seemed to burn all the way down her throat. And then it spread, the fire racing through all her veins, filling her whole body, shutting out even the pain of her wounds. And then blackness and cold darkness overwhelmed the fire to close around her and she knew no more.

Aidan watched, tears in his eyes, as Serapha let out one last breath and was still. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back sobs and failing. There was hope, of course there was hope, but he couldn’t be sure. What if she was simply dead? He remembered his own change vividly, how he had been unconscious for most of a night and all the next day before finally waking as the sun set. He knew he would have to wait that long before he could be sure, before he could know if his daughter was alive.

And then the thought hit him. A full day. Sunlight! There was a reason why superstition said a vampire had to be in his coffin by dawn. Sunlight was deadly to vampires, and if Serapha was exposed to the sun, fragile as her condition was, she would never survive. He looked at his medallion, his own protection from sunlight, and it only took him an instant to decide. If he couldn’t find shelter by dawn, he would put the medallion around her neck and let the sunlight take him instead.

But enough time for such desperate measures later, he told himself. For now… For now I need to think. Can I move her? If she were fully living I wouldn’t dare, but dare I stay here until she starts to heal? What if she doesn’t heal until she wakes tomorrow night? I can’t just sit here. So, no choice but to move her and hope. He very, very carefully picked up his daughter, making every effort to not worsen any injuries. He couldn’t remember any caves or even overhangs along the path behind him, so forward down the ravine he went, crunching through the scattered remnants of the ice worm’s snowy hiding place. He moved with all the care he could muster, scanning the walls of the ravine intently, looking for a cave, a hollow where he could find shelter from the sun. He didn’t know how many hours had passed when he found it. The cave opening wasn’t very large, he had to bend over to get inside. It wasn’t very deep either, and the opposite wall was low, the ravine having spread out as it wound its way out of the hills. There was a good chance that some sunlight would leak in, perhaps even enough to kill him, but he knew his time was limited, and he wasn’t likely to find anything better, so he crawled carefully inside and settled Serapha in his arms to wait.

He thought of Flame Song waiting at home. She would surely be worried by now, and when dawn came with no sign of them she was sure to start searching, along with the whole family. A family of firecats can track as few others can, but Aidan was all too aware of how they’d broken their trail. They’d flown, not just to the hills, but all up and down them, hunting. It could take long enough for Flame and the boys to unravel the scent trail that it would be too late for any help from them. If only I hadn’t wanted to come to the hills today, he thought bitterly. If I hadn’t wanted to explore we would never have run into the worm. Or if I’d taken Serapha’s suggestion and gone home for lunch instead of staying out to hunt… The litany of if only’s was endless and Aidan repeated them over and over to himself, trying to have hope, but sliding into hopelessness as the night lengthened.

Then, as Aidan looked down at his daughter, he saw something that gave him cause for hope. He thought he could no longer see the bone of her ribs through the blood. Her bleeding had stopped when her breath had, her heart no longer pumping blood, so there was no way the gleam of white could be suddenly covered unless she was healing. Gingerly, not wanting to interfere, her wiped blood away from the worst of the wounds. There was no mistaking it, the bone had now been covered in flesh. The wound was still raw and ugly looking, but she was healing! Aidan found himself crying again, this time in relief. It had worked! His daughter would live.

The rest of the long night passed all to quickly and soon the first faint hint of dawn was showing on the far horizon. Aidan couldn’t see it, hidden in the shallow cave, but he could sense it. The sun would soon rise. He took a deep breath, needing one psychologically if not physically, and gently placed the sun medallion, with its blood-red stone set in dark iron, around Serapha’s neck.

There was no immediate effect as Aidan removed the medallion, the sun had not even lipped the horizon as yet, and so he simply leaned back against the wall to await the coming day. When the sun rose, Aidan knew it. Even though no ray could reach where he was, he felt the stirring of a faint discomfort. Indirect light filtered down to his sensitive eyes, not bright enough to sting, not yet, but still much brighter than such dawn light would seem to a normal man. The cave Aidan had found was set in the east wall of the ravine, so as the sun rose Aidan could watch the shadow slowly retreat down the opposite wall. At first the new light just barely touched the top of the wall, illuminating a few stones that stood higher than their fellows, but gradually it slid lower, as if the shadows were too tired to remain upright and sagged gradually to the ground.

Aidan watched with resigned patience, enduring the increasing brilliance, the ever-growing discomfort as indirect light reflected off the far wall and entered the shallow cave. Eventually the shadows retreated all the way across the floor of the ravine and vanished as the sun stood directly overhead. Aidan closed his eyes against the almost unbearable brightness. He rested his fingers gently against the medallion, and it seemed to help a little bit, but he knew the spell that empowered it was meant to protect just one, not two.

Now the sun was sinking slowly, shadows reappearing as the light crept lower. And now direct sunlight inched its way into the cave, like a swimmer cautiously entering a cold lake, one tiny increment at a time. Slowly the sun sank, the light advanced, and as Aidan measured its crawling speed he knew it would reach the back of the cavern before the sun went behind the ravine wall. Aidan pushed himself as far back into the cave as he could, cradling Serapha on his lap, his back pressed against cool stone. He drew in his feet, trying to put as much distance between himself and the light as possible. It was futile, but he couldn’t help but make the attempt.

As the light gradually advanced, Aidan thought over his life. He’d done many things, including some deeds that others might call heroic, but to him the most important part of his life had always been his family. He hoped that they wouldn’t mourn him too much. He certainly would miss them. He believed in an afterlife, of course. In a place like Mysteria, where one could see evidence of the magical and the supernatural every day, there was no doubt that souls lived on. But… he didn’t feel like he was ready to move on. There were so many things he would never do… He winced as the leading edge of the light crept across his boots. He could feel it, even through the heavy leather, like the weight of a hot iron pressing down. And still the sun crept on. There was a faint hiss, a scent of burning, and Aidan bit back a cry of pain as the light touched the exposed skin of one hand. He shifted, trying to find a way to get his hand out of the sun and still hold Serapha. He managed to slip his hand out of the way, but still the light slowly advanced. Another hour passed and the light again crawled onto his bare skin. It touched his arm and crept its way upward. He gritted his teeth, an involuntary hiss of pain escaping him. There was no room to move back further, and in a few more minutes his skin would be completely charred. And a mere hour or so remained until the light rested on his face. That would almost certainly kill him. There was no way out. Aidan closed his eyes, thinking, I wish I could see Flame just one more time…

And then suddenly the light was blotted out as something moved in front of the cave. For a moment Aidan didn’t recognize the dark feline silhouette… but then he breathed a sigh of sudden relief. “Flame Song,” he said simply.

“Are you all right?” asked his wife, her voice clearly showing her concern.

“I am now,” he replied, “though for a while there I was sure this was the end.”

“Serapha. Is she…” Flame trailed off, taking in the scene, Serapha bloodied and torn with Aidan’s sun medallion around her neck. “Aidan, why is she wearing your medallion? I found the ice worm’s body, but… what happened?”

Aidan closed his eyes, hit again with guilt. He knew that what had happened hadn’t been his fault, that he had actually saved his daughter’s life and yet… “She’ll be all right, I think. The worm… It surprised us, she got too close before we realized it was there. It… she was injured pretty badly, she was going to die. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, and she said she wanted to live…” He trailed off, not sure how to explain.

Flame Song sighed. She could put two and two together. “So you changed her.”

“Yes,” said Aidan simply.

“And she’s a vampire now?”

“Once the sun sets, yes.”

Flame shifted slightly, making sure that her shadow covered Aidan completely. “Well, I told you long ago I’d rather have a vampire husband than no husband at all, and there’s no reason why the same thing should not apply to my daughter as well,” she said, and Aidan smiled faintly, remembering that long ago day when Flame Song had convinced him to live.

They passed the rest of the day in quiet, both waiting with patience for the setting sun. Aidan sighed in relief when the sun vanished behind the ravine wall, and then at last it slipped behind the horizon and true night fell. He and Flame both watched Serapha intently, Flame Song shifting back to human form so that she could crawl inside the little cave. Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. Then, just when Aidan was wondering if it had worked after all, Serapha’s eyes fluttered open. She drew a breath and groaned softly, evidently still in pain from her wounds, which were beginning again to heal with the onset of night. Then her gaze focused on the anxious faces above her. “Mom? Dad? What…?” She stopped, suddenly recalling the circumstances that had brought her here. “It worked then,” she said softly, and Aidan listened intently to her voice, seeking any hint of regret, of uncertainty, and found none.

Wordlessly he hugged her close, careful not to jar her wounds, and Flame Song put gentle arms around them both. They huddled there for a long time before at last Flame, ever practical, drew back, saying, “I should let the boys know that you’re both all right.”

The northern lights were playing softly overhead, not a gaudy display this night, just a few faint sheets of beautiful phosphorescence shimmering against the jewel-bright stars. Aidan sat on top of the low hill of their home with Serapha beside him.

“How are you doing?” he asked, concern showing in his voice.

She smiled warmly at him. “You worry so much about me, dad. But you don’t need to. I’ve grown up with you always around, I know just about everything there is to know about vampires. I’m doing just fine.”

“I don’t think you know everything, Serapha. But I admit you do seem to be coping with this much better than I ever did.” Serapha just shrugged in response. “Have you thought about this trip of yours?” added Aidan.

“Yes. And I haven’t changed my mind. When you were my age you were on your own, taking care of yourself. I don’t need an escort.”

“When I was your age I was half-starved, miserable, and up to no good. I’ll admit you seem to have more sense than I ever had, but I’m not sure I want you going all the way to Tara’s tower by yourself.”

“Please Dad?” said Serapha, the puppy-dog beseeching look that all children use on their parents in her eyes.

Aidan shook his head. “Your mother and I both agree. We’re not going to let you go by yourself. I’d be happy to go with you. I thought you liked my company.” He gave her a mock-injured look as she said that last.

Serapha shook her head. “It’s not that. I just feel like I need some time to myself, and I want to travel, and somebody has to go get a second sun medallion. Why not me?”

“Because sister, a young woman traveling alone is always in danger, even in such peaceful times as these,” said Alan as he padded up the hill and sat down next to his sister. He folded his fire-orange wings and settled comfortably on the short grass.

Serapha glowered at her brother. “It’s just a conspiracy! None of you want me to go.”

Alan laughed softly. “I never said I didn’t want you to go, and neither did Father. We both simply said you shouldn’t go alone. If you like, and if Mother and Father will agree, I’ll go with you.”

Serapha blinked in surprise. “You? Why?”

“Because I think it’s time I too went out and saw a bit of the world. I’ve never really left here you know. Ariana was always off adventuring, and Arthur Flash and Damien have both made trips to the south, but I’ve never gone. I think perhaps it’s time I did.”

Serapha considered. She wanted solitude, time to explore the world and explore herself. Her parents wouldn’t give her that privacy, they couldn’t help but parent all the time. But Alan… he was the quiet one, the one everybody always overlooked, despite his remarkable appearance. He was a philosopher, a thinker, a dreamer, and there was a kind of odd magic about him. Serapha had never quite been able to relate to him, he seemed both aloof and elusive, and she knew that sometimes her parents felt the same way. But the same qualities that kept her from knowing him as well as she might would keep him from intruding on her voyage of self-discovery.

“All right,” she said. “If it’s okay with you,” she turned to her father, “I’ll go with Alan.”

“I think that arrangement will work out admirably,” said Aidan with a smile.

And so it was that Serapha and Alan Rhiannon set out one fine evening to travel to the Dragon Queen’s tower. They went first overland to Snowcap village, both flying through the darkening sky with wings spread. Serapha wore her father’s medallion still around her neck. “Don’t worry,” he’d assured her when he insisted she take it. “I can stay in during daylight for a few weeks while you’re gone. But you never know if you’ll be able to find shelter by sunrise or not. Take it.”

Alan wore no jewelry. He flew near Serapha, the tips of his wings mere inches from hers. Serapha’s wings were the white-feathered wings of an aerian, but Alan hadn’t inherited his wings from his father. Folded at rest they were vividly patterned with yellow, red and orange, but when he spread them to fly they were even more splendid, for his wings were the literal fiery wings of a phoenix. A nimbus of flickering flame hovered around each feather, lithe tongues of fire trailing behind him as he flew. The wings, along with his vivid amber eyes, marked him as a throwback, a genetic anomaly that harkened back to the earliest days of his mother’s clan, when a phoenix and a firecat had dared to fall in love. Now their many-times great grandson flew through the night on wings of flame, with his sister, immune to fire and unafraid, close by his side.

They made good time, reaching Snowcap not long before dawn. Serapha hesitated for a moment when Alan headed for the nameless little inn where their family had always stayed when they visited Snowcap but eventually she followed behind him with an inward shrug. Alan landed in the dusty street in front of the inn, blurring upright into human form as he did so. He was a good foot taller than Serapha and in fact he towered over everyone else in the family, including his parents.

A middle-aged human was sitting behind a battered desk just inside the door. He smiled at Alan and Serapha and gave them a cheery wave. “Looking to stay for the day?” he asked.

“Only if there’s nobody sailing out today, Mr. Alderman,” responded Alan. “We need to catch a ship to the eastern continent.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to forgo your custom today then, for there’s a merchantman sailing out this afternoon,” said the innkeeper. “You’re more than free to spend an hour or two down in the commons room,” he added. And then smiled as he said, “I know that someone who just happens to be down in the commons room right now would be happy to keep you company.”

Serapha flinched slightly at Mr. Alderman’s words. She didn’t feel at all up to speaking with his son, Michael, at all. She didn’t know how Michael would react to the news that she was undead. They hadn’t sworn eternal love, or anything like it, but they enjoyed each other’s company quite a lot, and both of them were aware of the potential for something more. But now… her mother had stayed with her father after his transformation, but then they’d been married already. The relationship she had with Michael was still in its infancy, and she wasn’t at all sure it would hold up under the news. Still, she decided, there wasn’t any way to avoid seeing Michael now, so she might as well get it over with.

Mr. Alderman eyed her oddly when she took a deep breath moved determinedly into the inn. Alan, on the other hand, simply nodded. He knew very well what was worrying his sister.

Serapha went into the dim commons room of the little inn hesitantly. She could see every corner of the room clearly; her night sight more than sufficient to pierce the gloom, and it took her only a second to spot the shape of Michael behind the bar. He was dusting off glasses and setting them on the shelf behind him, a small lamp next to him providing just enough illumination. In an hour or so when the inn’s patrons began to rise the big lamps would be lit, but until then there was no need to waste lamp oil. She looked at him silently for a long time. He was fairly average in appearance with sandy brown hair, warm brown eyes, and a fair complexion with a dusting of freckles across his nose. He was of average height too, which actually meant he practically towered over Serapha, who was barely two inches over five feet.

“Serapha!” Michael’s less sensitive eyes picked her out in the gloom long after she’d spotted him, but her hesitation let him make the first move. He vaulted enthusiastically over the bar and trotted across the room, his eyes lit up at the sight of her. He reached out his hands to take hers, and stopped when she didn’t reach out in turn. “Serapha? Is something wrong?”

Serapha sighed, trying to think how best to tell him. “Not exactly,” she said at last. “I mean I’m all right, and there’s no emergency or anything, but…”

“But?” he prompted, trying to guess where this was going.

“But some things have… changed since the last time I saw you. I’m not sure how to explain, and I don’t want to upset you.”

“Serapha,” said Michael, with a faint tone of frustration and confusion in his voice, “just tell me whatever it is.”

She sighed again. “I just don’t know exactly how to say this…” She looked down at the medallion around her neck and ran her finger over the stone. “Do you know what this is?” she asked.

Michael looked down at the medallion and blinked in surprise. “It’s your father’s pendant, the one he always wears. Why are you wearing it?”

“Do you know what it does?”

“It… it has something to do with his being a vampire,” said Michael softly, a sudden sinking sensation forming in his stomach.

“Yes. It protects him against sunlight. Him and now… now me.”

Michael said nothing, unsure of what there was to say. There was a long, uncomfortable silence and then finally he reached out again and took Serapha’s hand. “This is kind of sudden, and well, I’m not sure if its going to change things, but I’ve known your dad for a long time, and he’s always been a decent person, so I don’t think you being a…” he hesitated over the word a moment, “a vampire is going to make you some kind of monster. I mean everybody knows your dad’s a good person…” he trailed off awkwardly and then simply smiled at her, unable to think of anything else to say.

Serapha smiled back, squeezing Michael’s hand gently. “Thanks,” she said simply.

“Enjoying the evening?” A deep, cultured voice sounded behind Serapha in the dark. Before her change she might have jumped, startled, but she’d been aware of the man standing behind her for the last few minutes, his breathing and even his heartbeat audible to her enhanced senses.

“Yes, I am,” she replied politely, turning slightly to see who had addressed her. As she had suspected, it was Captain Gabriel Young. He had watched her suspiciously during the whole voyage to the eastern continent, and Serapha had been glad to reach land and get away from him. It had been just her back luck, as far as she was concerned, that his ship had been still in port when she’d returned from Queen Tara’s tower with the second medallion. And worse yet, no other ship was making the journey to the north continent, so she’d been stuck with Captain Young again.

“Miss Rhiannon, or may I call you Serapha?” He paused a moment and then went on when she remained silent, “I’m sorry to intrude on your evening, but I’m afraid I have a certain streak of curiosity that needs to be satisfied before we reach our destination. I’ve noticed that you never seem to eat with any of the other passengers, and that you tend to sleep during the day. Could I ask you why?”

Serapha’s heart might have started racing if it were still capable of doing so. She tried to mask her nervousness as she responded. “I have a somewhat restricted diet, Captain,” she said.

“Please, call me Gabriel,” he responded, “And I had guessed you had special dietary needs. I think I’ve guessed the reason why as well. I’m curious to know if I’m correct. I believe that you’re a vampire, Serapha. Not,” he added as she gaped at him, “the sort of vampire one might expect of course. Not any kin to the infamous Lord Drago, for example.”

Serapha shook her head. “You’re mistaken,” she stammered. “I’m not…”

“I think you are,” said Captain Young. “I’m quite certain I’m not mistaken. But you don’t need to fear. I have no intention of harming you, or of telling anyone else of my discovery. I find the condition of vampirism fascinating. And I find you quite intriguing. You’re very beautiful you know.”

Serapha went wide-eyed in astonishment, giving Captain Young a startled look. He smiled down at her, his eyes, blue as her own, seeming to twinkle warmly in the dim lantern light that illuminated the deck. The breeze that propelled the ship forward ruffled his close-cropped blond curls. He was in his early twenties, young to captain a ship of his own, but apparently quite capable. And also, now that Serapha actually looked at him, quite handsome.

“I won’t bother you any further tonight,” he said with a smile, “but I hope you will answer a few of my questions on some future occasion. As I said I’m rather fascinated by the condition of vampirism, and this is the first chance I’ve had to speak to one directly. And to have a chance to satisfy my curiosity and to enjoy the company of a beautiful young woman such as yourself at the same time is an opportunity I simply cannot pass up.”

Serapha’s head reeled, her mind unable to really digest what had just happened. One moment she’d been braced to defend against accusations and prejudice, and now she was being complimented instead. Nobody’s ever called me beautiful before, she thought in a kind of pleasantly stunned bemusement. Before she could gather her scattered thoughts, Captain Young reached out to take her hand, and to her further surprise he bowed over it and kissed it. “Goodnight, Serapha,” he said, and vanished back into the darkness.

He did indeed seek her out the next evening, and the one after that as well. In fact Serapha spent at least part of every night on the return journey to Snowcap in the company of the charming Captain Young, or Gabriel as he insisted she call him. They spent a certain amount of time discussing various aspects of vampirism, comparing the many myths that Gabriel had heard with the actual facts of Serapha’s condition, but the conversations strayed across many subjects, and Serapha found the Captain to be both witty and knowledgeable. When they docked at Snowcap Serapha disembarked with a certain feeling of regret. She also left the ship with a series of wide yawns. The new medallion she wore protected her from harm, but her body was telling her that daylight was time to sleep, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes open.

As she stepped onto the ramp down to the dock Gabriel’s voice sounded behind her. “Serapha!” She turned to see the captain hurrying up behind her. He once again took her hand and raised it to his lips. He smiled at her warmly as he released her fingers from his gentle grip and said, “I’ve quite enjoyed our discussions, and I sincerely hope we have a chance to speak more at a later date. I must sail south tomorrow, but I plan on coming back to Snowcap in a few weeks. May I have the pleasure of your company when I’m next in town?”

Serapha blushed faintly and smiled back. “Of course, Gabriel.”

“Then I will look forward to seeing you again as soon as possible.”

Alan silently watched Captain Young turn and vanish below decks as he had silently observed most of his sister’s meetings with the handsome young man. As always he said nothing, simply storing the information away. He knew his sister very well, and she wouldn’t welcome advice from him at this point. So with the nearly infinite patience he’d long ago mastered he waited until she would be ready to hear what he had to say. Instead he asked, “Do you want to rest in town today, or would you rather head straight home?”

Serapha yawned again, but shook her head, a certain unease visible on her features. “I’d like to had straight home,” she said. She tried to ignore the little voice in the back of her head that was telling her she was a coward for not wanting to go to the inn and speak with Michael. It’s not as if I’ve done anything wrong, she rationalized to herself. Gabriel and I did nothing but talk, and anyway, I don’t belong to Michael. He’s just a friend, that’s all. And besides, I need to get home as soon as I can and give Dad back his medallion.

Alan simply nodded, and it wasn’t long before the pair were again winging their way through the sky, headed home.

“Gabriel!” Serapha greeted the captain warmly, her eyes lighting up as he strode down the ramp onto the dock. It had been almost four months now since she’d first met Captain Young, and with each visit he made to Snowcap they grew closer.

“I have a surprise for you, my dear,” said Gabriel.

Serapha cocked her head to one side and smiled. “Oh?”

“Yes. I’m leaving tomorrow on a new voyage, and this time I’ve been hired to deliver several shipments down in the tropics, in the south isles.”

Serapha’s face fell. “What’s so good about that? I’ll only have one day to see you!”

Gabriel grinned in response. “Because my dear, I intend for you to be aboard the ship when it leaves. I’m inviting you to go with me, to get away from all this cold and snow.” He gestured at the village beyond where the first of the year’s snow already dusted the ground.

Serapha’s eyes went wide in surprise. “I don’t know if I should…” she hesitated. “I don’t think Mom and Dad would approve.”

“You’re old enough to make your own decisions, Serapha. And,” he added, “I would be most disappointed to be deprived of your company for so long. I have come to be very… fond of you, you know.”

Serapha hesitated a moment longer and then smiled. “I’d miss you too. And I’ve never seen the south isles.”

Gabriel grinned. “Wonderful! We set sail on the afternoon tide tomorrow.”

Serapha sent a note to her parents so they wouldn’t worry when she didn’t come home. She felt a bit guilty, knowing that they would worry at least a little about her going on such a voyage. They let her travel to Snowcap on her own now, but that was only a day’s flight from home. The south isles were weeks, perhaps months away, even on swift aerian wings. Still… the chance to see more of the world, and to see more of Gabriel, wasn’t something she could pass up. Her, decision made, she stayed at the inn that evening, avoiding Michael and the additional weight of guilt that roiled in her stomach whenever she saw him. I never promised him anything, she rationalized to herself. I like him, he’s a nice guy, but I don’t belong to him. I can see someone else any time I want. And that was true, but some part of her still cringed whenever she looked at Michael and saw the hurt look in his eyes. Better to think about the upcoming voyage with Gabriel. A tropical cruise might not be something most vampires would enjoy, but with her sun medallion firmly around her neck, Serapha was certain she’d love every minute of it.

And so when Captain Young’s ship set sail, Serapha was aboard, standing in the bow and looking forward over the deep intense blue of the ocean, and ignoring the snowy shore that swiftly vanished behind her.

At first the weather was cold and blustery, the sky above hung with scuttling clouds that threatened snow. But soon they reached more southern waters and the weather turned milder. Almost a month later the ship crossed the unmarked line into the tropics. The following days were warm and cloudless, and the nights were crystal clear perfection.

And spending those nights in the company of Gabriel Young was, as far as Serapha was concerned, even more perfect. The whole voyage seemed to be a pleasantly giddy blur. Captain Young treated her like nobody before ever had. He complimented her constantly, went out of his way to do little things for her, and simply did everything he could to help her enjoy the voyage.

One star-studded night he rowed her ashore, just the two of them on a tiny jewel of an island. They lay back on silver sand still holding the heat of the day and looked up at the stars. Gabriel propped himself on one elbow and smiled at Serapha. “I think I like the view in this direction much better,” he said. Serapha blushed. She was still unused to the captain’s compliments. Then he leaned over her, his face only inches from hers. Serapha found herself breathing rapidly, even though she didn’t need to. She felt that her heart ought to be going a mile a minute, and then he kissed her.

It wasn’t the kind of brief kiss he’d given her before, this kiss lingered. It was more intense, more… passionate. And then his hands began to caress her, gently stroking her body. They wandered across the soft feathers of her wings, along the line of her neck, down her side, and then slipped under the edge of her shirt to touch the warm skin beneath.

Serapha was caught between fear of where this was going and desire for it to go there. She hesitated, then broke away from Gabriel’s touch.

“Serapha, love, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head, her emotions in complete turmoil. “I just can’t, Gabriel. I can’t do this. I mean we’re not… I’m… it’s not right.”

“Why?” said the handsome captain softly. “Because we’re not married? Why should two people who love each other need a ceremony, a church, and a cleric, before they can express their love? I love you, Serapha. I want to share this with you.”

“I… I don’t know…”

Gabriel reached out to her and ran one finger gently along the line of her jaw, raising her chin until she looked up at him. “Serapha, my love, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. But I do want to show you how much I love you, and I promise, I’ll be gentle.” He didn’t wait for her answer, but slid his arms around her and kissed her again.

Part of her still wanted to resist, but somehow that one little voice was utterly lost in the whirl of her emotions. She stopped fighting it and drank in the sensations, the amazing feelings of what Gabriel was doing to her. He knew exactly what to do, how to touch her, how to send tingles of almost electrical pleasure through her. The tiny voice of doubt asked, how does he know this? Serapha, you can’t possibly be the first love he’s had, but she was too caught up in pleasure to pay the tiny doubt any heed.

And then, when she thought it couldn’t get any more intense, Gabriel tilted his head back and worked his fingers through her hair, guiding her with gentle pressure on the back of her head to kiss his neck. Her heightened senses brought the sound of his heartbeat and the scent of his blood to her and it was more a matter of instinct than of conscious thought when her kisses changed to nibbles and then to the inevitable conclusion as her sharp fangs broke through the surface of his skin and she tasted the hot rush of his blood.

She had never tasted human blood before. She had taken the blood of deer and rabbits, horses and cows, and that had been good, but this! The rush was incredible as it poured through her, seeming to fill her whole being with the heady energy of it. It was like liquid fire, like pure energy, indescribably wonderful. And then came a second surge of sensation as her mind came into contact with Gabriel’s. Suddenly she could feel what he was feeling, her own pleasure and passion doubled as her emotions touched his. And he could likewise sense her emotions, their mutual pleasure feeding off of each other in an incredible rising loop. It almost overwhelmed Serapha’s senses, there was more than she could take in, more than her mind could handle.

But as she adjusted to her new awareness a sudden sense of wrongness crept into her mind. She could feel Gabriel’s feelings toward her and there was something missing. The passion was there, the intense physical attraction, but it was shallow. There was little more than simple lust there. Where was the love, the caring, the warmth and tenderness that should have been there? She reached out, searching, and reeled in shock as she found not caring but contempt. He thought her naïve, foolish, easily used. She couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t actually see the words themselves, but the emotions were clear enough. He’d been using her! She’d just been some kind of game, just another conquest!

She broke off, not being gentle as she removed her fangs from his neck and practically flung herself away from him. The link between their minds began to fade, but it was still there, and she poured all the hurt and anger down that channel at him. He cried out in shock, putting his hands to his head

“How could you!” shouted Serapha. “How could you do this to me!”

Gabriel’s emotions shifted rapidly from shock to anger, and he raised his head and looked up at her with the contempt she could feel so clearly written equally clearly on his face. “You seemed to enjoy it well enough,” he said.

“I thought you loved me!”

He lashed back at her with a sudden storm of vicious contempt. “Ha! Me, love a silly bumpkin like you? Not likely! I just wanted to know what doing a vampire would be like. And if you’d had any sense you would have just laid back and enjoyed it.”

“You… you slimy toad!”

“You’ll come to see my finer points eventually,” said Gabriel with a renewed sneer and a sudden sense of victory in his mind. “After all, how else will you get back home?”

Serapha had thought she was beyond being shocked any further, but she found she was wrong. How could he think that she would trade her body for passage home like some cheap prostitute! “I’ll never touch you again!” she said, her anger suddenly gone deadly cold. With another shock she realized that her magic had gathered around her, that she was literally glowing with the force of her rage. She was a hair’s breadth away from letting the power loose on the sneering pig of a captain. Struggling for control she spun away from him and walked out into the calm ocean. The water seemed to cool her fury slightly.

“Are you going to swim all the way back to Snowcap?” laughed Gabriel.

“Yes,” said Serapha and, folding her wings, dove smoothly into the water, focusing her gathered power. When she surfaced again she was no longer an aerian girl, but a silver-sided dolphin. Gabriel gaped at her and she sent one last jolt of anger mixed with triumph down the fading blood-bond as she turned and swam away.

The journey home was a nightmare. They had sailed for almost a month to reach the tropical latitudes, and Serapha couldn’t swim as steadily as the ship sailed. She needed rest and food, and both were hard to find on the open sea. She tried, but she couldn’t trust her instincts enough to sleep as a dolphin. She felt she would drown, even though she knew it was impossible. She didn’t even need to breathe! But logic and reality were too different things, and she simply couldn’t rest in the water. So she sought out the hundreds of islands that dotted these waters. She would find what sustenance she could and then curl up and cry herself to sleep most days. And then she began to leave the tropical waters and the ocean turned freezing cold. It was still winter here, and though she had thought herself immune to the cold, she discovered otherwise. With the freezing ocean constantly around her the cold soaked into her bones. She felt stiff and chilled, and when she ventured out on land in her own form she shivered uncontrollably. The further north she went, the fewer islands she found. She swam on for days between stops. Everything was a blur of cold, hunger, and exhaustion. When at last the coast of the north continent rose before her she almost didn’t realize she’d arrived.

She changed back to her own shape, standing shivering in the freezing surf that crashed on a snow-covered, rocky shore. Not too far off she could make out the lights of Snowcap Village. It gradually penetrated her exhausted mind that she was almost home. She had been making her way here without any thought, but now that she had arrived she realized that she didn’t want to confront her parents. She had left without their permission, she’d been gone for months, and… how could she tell them what had happened? How could she face their disappointment?

She walked slowly toward the village, her wings folded around her in a futile attempt to keep the chill wind off. Her feet were bare in the snow. She hadn’t been wearing shoes when she’d left the south isles. She hadn’t needed them. She wandered the streets of the sleeping town, trying to find some direction, some solution, somewhere to go. She stopped for a moment and looked at the little inn. Michael would be there. It would be warm inside, but she couldn’t face him either. So she turned away and headed for the edge of town. There was nothing for her here. She was passing by a tiny church on the outskirts of the village when someone touched her shoulder. The touch was painful, seeming almost to burn, and she spun around with a snarl.

“Don’t touch me!”

A white-haired cleric stood there, his eyes wide with surprise. “I’m sorry, child,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Go away. Just leave me alone,” said Serapha.

“But child, you’ll freeze to death.”

“I wish I could,” was her despairing reply. “But I can’t.”

“But you must be miserable. Please, come inside.”

“What inside your church? I can’t. Don’t you know what I am?”

“You’re most likely Aidan’s daughter, and yes, I know you’re a vampire. I was inviting you inside my home, not my church. Come, surely you can humor an old man and come in out of the cold?”

Serapha looked up at him. He smiled encouragingly at her and suddenly the thought of really being warm again was too much to resist. “All right.”

The cleric led the way back half a block to a modest house with warm yellow light pouring out of the front windows. Inside it was cheerful and cozy. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, and Serapha went right to it like steel to a magnet, sitting down directly in front of the fire and holding out her hands. Water began to drip off of her as the snow and ice frozen into her tattered clothes and unkempt hair began to melt. She half spread her wings to absorb more of the warmth, the freezing chill gradually fading as the heat of the fire soaked into her.

The cleric sat down in a chair and watched with an indulgent smile. After a while Serapha turned around, letting the fire warm her back, and said, “Thank you.”

“It’s my job to do what I can to help out those in need,” he said with a smile. “I’m Father Benton, by the way.”

“My name’s Serapha,” she said. “But how did you know I was Aidan’s daughter?”

“There aren’t very many aerians around here,” he said with a smile, “and you’re the very image of your father.”

“You know my father then?”

“Not exactly. Many years ago, before you were born, I’m sure, I was present at the trial of a cleric. I was a much younger man then, and the proceedings made quite an impression on me. This cleric had attempted to murder your father, claiming that it wasn’t a crime because he was undead and therefore evil. I admit at first I agreed with the man, but as the trial progressed, I came gradually to realize that your father was a good man. It changed the way I looked at people. I learned the folly of judging by appearances. Things aren’t always what they seem at first.”

Serapha gave a bitter little laugh. “That’s the truth,” she said.

“Do you want to tell me what sent you out wandering the streets in such a state?” asked Father Benton gently.

Serapha shook her head. On one level she did want to talk, and this kindly man would surely listen without judgment, but on another level she didn’t even want to think about it yet.

“If you ever do want to talk, I am always willing to listen. That’s another part of my job, being a listening ear for people’s troubles. But in the meantime, perhaps you might like to have a warm bath? My late wife was an immigrant from Earth, and she was quite fond of such little comforts. I actually have Earth-style plumbing, though the water heater will take a while to get going on such a cold night.”

“That would be heavenly,” said Serapha. Real plumbing! Why even her own family did what most Mysterians did and heated water in the kitchen, one pot at a time. A real hot bath was such an effort that she almost never had one.

An hour or so later Serapha was happily immersed and scrubbing her hair. It was a dirty, tangled mess, and she knew she’d be hours combing the knots out of it. When at long last the water, which had been near scalding when she got in, had cooled to merely lukewarm she emerged from the tub, wrapping a thick towel around her.

Father Benton had offered to lend her something dry to wear, “Though,” he’d added, “I don’t know how you’d get into anything of mine with those wings in the way.”

“I can take care of that,” said Serapha. “And I’m afraid my things have definitely seen better days.” So now she focused a hint of power around her and shape-shifted, assuming a fully human form. She always felt odd without her wings, but it was a relief to put on the clean shirt and trousers, even if they were so large she felt like a little girl playing dress-up in her parents’ things.

“I feel much better,” she said as she emerged from the bathroom and settled into a chair by the fire. She’d taken a brush from the bathroom and now she started to work on her waist-length hair, carefully working out the knots and tangles. The only trace of physical discomfort that remained was her hunger. She was starving, but that would just have to wait. There was no way she was leaving the warm comfort inside Father Benton’s house anytime soon.

“You look much improved,” said the cleric warmly. “Much better than the half frozen waif I found out there.”

“Thank you so much,” said Serapha.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Serapha shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? I’d offer you something to eat, but, well…”

Serapha smiled. “It’s all right. I’ll go out hunting sometime later, once I’ve rested.”

“Actually,” said Father Benton thoughtfully, an idea coming to him, “I might be able to offer you something after all. You’re accustomed to taking your sustenance from animals, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Serapha.

“My neighbor keeps several horses,” said the cleric, “and he owes me a number of favors. I’m sure he’d let me borrow one for a few minutes. I’m correct in assuming that you won’t need enough to drain the animal dry, am I not?”

Serapha smiled. “Heavens, if I drank that much I’d explode or something. Yes, I just need a little bit.”

“Well, in that case I’ll go speak with him.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” said Serapha.

“Dawn isn’t that far off, and my friend keeps farmer’s hours. He’ll be awake by now. If you’re up to venturing out in the cold again, that is?”

“I think I’ll manage,” said Serapha. “And frankly, I’m half-starved.”

Bundled in a spare coat that was big enough to put two of her in, Serapha trailed after Father Benton as he knocked in his neighbor’s door. Serapha was afraid that the neighbor wouldn’t be as tolerant about vampires as the cleric, but apparently he trusted his priestly friend a great deal, because he didn’t ask any questions or offer any objections, he just led the way to the stables. Inside it was warm and smelled pleasantly of hay and horses. Serapha felt almost dizzy with hunger as the bloodsmell of all those animals hit her. No sooner had the neighbor opened one of the stall doors than Serapha was inside. She took a brief moment to make sure the animal wasn’t going to start or shy, stroking its neck and side soothingly. Its shoulder was almost as high as her head, short as she was, and she didn’t want the huge thing to trample her. The creature’s size meant that there was more than enough blood to satisfy her hunger, however, and it didn’t even flinch as she bit through its hide and drank greedily.

Having an audience made her a bit nervous and she did spare the extra effort to make sure she didn’t make a mess of things. So when she pulled back, hunger fully satisfied, she only had to wipe of a tiny trace of blood from her lips. She walked out of the stall with a contented sigh. The horse’s owner looked a bit unsettled, and he stepped into the stall himself and started looking the horse over, as if she might have somehow damaged the thing, or turned it into a bizarre equine vampire or something, but it was, of course, unharmed. Father Benton thanked the man and led the way out of the stable and back to his own little house.

“Feeling better?” asked the cleric as he opened the door to his house.

“Oh yes,” said Serapha. “Immensely.”

“Well dawn isn’t far off and I am more than ready for bed. I have a spare bedroom if you’d care to spend the day.”

“Thank you again,” said Serapha.

Father Benton smiled and shrugged. “It’s the least I can do.”

Soon Serapha was snuggled down in a marvelously soft and warm bed, and as the sun slipped above the horizon she sighed contentedly and fell soundly asleep. She awoke some time after sunset the next evening and for a long moment she just lay there and enjoyed the lazy sensation of warmth and contentment. For the first time in what seemed like forever she wasn’t cold, hungry, or tired. She sat up and stretched luxuriously. Then she got out of bed and padded silently down the stairs to the front room. Father Benton was sitting in a chair by the fire. He looked up and smiled as she came in. “Hello,” he said. “I thought you might be turning up shortly. Feeling better?”

She nodded and dropped into another chair with a little sigh.

“What are you going to do now?” asked the cleric. “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need to, but I’d venture a guess that your parents are probably worried about you. You might think about going home soon.”

Serapha sighed. She finally had the emotional and mental energy to really think about the mess she was in. Her parents were going to be furious with her, she was sure. “I… you’re right, but I’m not sure I’m ready to face them after what happened.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Serapha looked over at Father Benton. His expression was one of genuine concern, and suddenly she did want to talk. “I think so,” she said. “I’m not sure where to start though. And I feel like I’ve been such an idiot…” one bit at a time she told him the whole story. It was hard, but somehow sharing what had happened made her feel… lighter, as if the burden of events could literally be shared. “So I swam all the way back here,” she finished at last. “And now I’m here and I’m not sure what I should do next.”

“I can’t give you any certain answers, child,” Father Benton said, “but my advice is, go home. I know that facing your parents will be hard for you, but I don’t think they’ll be angry. They love you very much. And Serapha… what you’ve done was perhaps foolish, but we are all foolish at times. I don’t think you are to blame for what happened. If there is any blame to be placed, place it where it belongs, on this Captain Young. You’re still a child. I know you feel adult, and in many ways you are, but you’re still young in many ways. He knew that, and he manipulated you. Don’t hold on to needless guilt.”

“I… I think I knew that all along, I just needed to hear it. You’re right. I should go home. There’s no reason to wait any longer.”

“I’ll miss your company,” said the cleric with a smile. “My own children are all long-grown and sometimes the house is too empty. Come back and visit some time.”

“I will.”

As the horizon lightened with approaching dawn Serapha landed in front of the low hill of her home. She stood there for a long time. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and opened the door.

Her mother was sitting in the front room, practicing her clarinet. When she looked up and saw Serapha in the doorway she dropped the instrument, heedless of the clatter as it fell to the ground, and ran to her daughter.

“Oh Serapha, you’re all right!” she said as she hugged her tightly. Any lingering fears dissolved as Serapha returned the warm embrace.

After a while Serapha disengaged herself. “Mom, all the warm air is getting out. We should at least shut the door.”

Flame Song laughed and stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. “What’s all the commotion?” asked her father as she stepped into the room. Then he spotted her and she was engulfed in a second hug. Pretty soon the whole family was there, and all three of her brothers had to give her a hug as well.

“We were worried about you,” said Alan as he stepped back. “I didn’t think that Captain Young was up to any good.”

“You were right,” said Serapha.

“Enough said then,” said Alan. “We’re just glad you’re home safe.” And he reached out and ruffled her hair.

“Hey!” she said. “You big lump. Leave my head alone.”

“But from up here that’s all I can see, shorty,” he said with a grin.

Serapha laughed. She was home again, and everything was all right.

There was still one more thing to be dealt with, however. Serapha wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but it had to be done. She needed to apologize to Michael. Several weeks later, with Alan by her side for moral support, she returned to Snowcap. They landed on the street in front of the nameless little inn owned by Michael’s family.

Serapha took a deep breath and went inside. Mr. Alderman, Michael’s father was at his usual spot at the front desk. “Here for the day?” he asked briskly.

Serapha shook her head. “No sir. I came to speak with Michael. Is he here?”

The middle-aged innkeeper gave Serapha a long look. She wilted a little bit under the stare. At last he said, “Yes, he’s in the storeroom.” Serapha nodded and headed back through the inn. She could hear Michael humming to himself as she approached the door. She knocked softly and the humming stopped. Michael opened the door and gave a little start to see her standing there. “Serapha?”

She hesitated, not sure what to say, then said, “Michael, I’ve come to apologize to you. I’m afraid I’ve been something of an idiot.”

“No you haven’t,” was his instant reply. “I… I don’t have any claim on you after all.” There was a faint trace of bitterness in the young man’s reply.

“Maybe not, but I still shouldn’t have just abandoned you like that. And for somebody like that…” she stopped, aware that her voice was rising. “Sorry, a total jerk like that Captain Young. I know I can’t expect anything, but I had hoped that you might at least want to be friends.”

Michael looked at her, his warm brown eyes unreadable. Then he tentatively smiled. “Look, I’ve been just as much of a fool as you. I shouldn’t have let you go without a fight.” His smile widened. “Of course I want you for a friend, and for something more if that’s what you want.”

Then he put his arms around her and hugged her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him back, cupping her wings around him in a warm embrace. Somewhat to her surprise she found a tear trickling down her cheek. When Michael at last broke off their embrace he brushed it away gently. “Serapha, don’t cry. I don’t like to see you cry.”

She sniffed. “It’s okay. I’m just glad I haven’t ruined everything. I care about you a lot you know.”

“I care about you too,” said Michael.

That day Serapha and Alan did in fact stay at the inn. With the onset of evening she set out to see Father Benton. She wanted to thank the cleric again for helping her, and let him know that everything had turned out all right. Michael had attached himself to her side and was tagging along, uninvited but certainly not unwelcome. Their path led them near the docks and Serapha glanced over at the few ships in port this early in the year. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. “That’s Gabriel’s ship,” she said, a sinking sensation settling into her stomach. She did not want to see the captain ever again.

“You’d think he wouldn’t want to come back here,” said Michael.

“I just hope I don’t run into him,” said Serapha. She hurried past the docks, wanting to reach Father Benton’s house as soon as possible. They were almost there when something hit Serapha from behind. She collapsed, pain shooting through her head. Her last sight as the world went black was of Michael also falling to the snow-covered ground, and her last thought was of concern for him. If he’s left to lie in the cold, he’ll freeze to death… And then everything faded away and she knew no more.

She awoke to find herself in a dimly lit cave with her hands securely bound together. She was dismayed, but not surprised to find that Gabriel was her captor. There was something disturbing in the way he looked at her. She had a sudden suspicion that the captain wasn’t quite in full possession of his faculties just then, and that thought wasn’t a happy one. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“Claiming what’s rightfully mine,” he said.

“I don’t belong to you!” she said, tugging at her hands in an attempt to free them. He strength was greater than human, but he seemed to have taken that into account, and the ropes that held her were beyond her strength to break.

“You ought to be mine,” he said. “You ought to be. I ought to be yours. My blood is part of you now, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Serapha.

“Do matters of the heart make sense?” he asked, and then gave a little laugh. “Does it make sense that a little, ignorant thing like you could ruin me like this?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought I knew, I thought I knew it all when it came to passion, to pleasure, but you… you did something to me like nobody has ever done before. Now that’s all I want. I need you, Serapha, my vampyress. I need you, and nobody else. I’ve tried, oh I’ve tried, but nothing satisfies me anymore. Nothing!” He shouted that last word, and Serapha was suddenly certain he wasn’t all there upstairs. She shivered. Bad enough to be in the hands of a man like Captain Young to begin with, but now that he seemed to have lost his grip on sanity…

When Michael awoke he was surprised to find himself in a soft bed. A white-haired man with the holy symbol of a cleric around his neck was bending over him, an expression of concern on his kindly face.

“You’re awake! Good! For a while there I was quite worried.”

“Where am I? Who are you? What happened to Serapha?”

“Serapha? You mean the young aerian girl?” The cleric’s expression of worry deepened.

“Yes, she was with me. Then… Captain Young! He hit us from behind.”

“Oh dear,” said the cleric. “This isn’t good at all. I know something of what passed between them, and if that man is deranged enough to kidnap her there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

“I have to find her,” said Michael, starting up out of the bed. The room seemed to spin around him and his sight dimmed around the edges. Father Benton, for so it was, pushed the young man gently back down.

“You’re not going to go anywhere. You’ve had a concussion. I’ve done what I can for it, but you’re not fit to go chasing off after her. If I hadn’t been coming back late from visiting a friend and found you, you might well have died.”

“But I can’t just sit here,” said Michael. “She’s in danger!”

“You can sit here, and you will,” said the cleric. “Meanwhile I shall go after the young woman myself. I’m not as young as I used to be, but I’ve still got some life in me, and I can certainly deal with one man.”

“But…” said Michael weakly.

“No buts from you, my young friend. I know Captain Young’s type. Underneath it all he’s a coward. I doubt he’ll risk his own skin.” As he spoke the cleric was rummaging around in a little closet. “Ah, here it is,” he said, standing up with a small crossbow in his hand. “Back in the day I used to be a crack shot with this thing,” he told Michael with a little wink. “I think I can still remember how to use it.”

“Now, you stay here and get yourself recovered,” he said as he left the room. “I’ll be back soon.”

Father Benton threw on a coat and ran out the door. He came to the spot where he’d found Michael lying in the snow. Sure enough when he took the time to look the imprint of a second body was visible next to the young man’s. There were footprints all around the area, but the last snow had been only a day or so ago, so it was still possible to pick out individual sets, and one set of prints was on top of all the others. It led from the spot where Serapha had lain down the road away from town. Nodding to himself the cleric followed it. In his youth he’d been assigned to assist the city watch, who often needed the healing powers of a cleric. He’d learned a great deal from the watchmen about this sort of thing, and he didn’t doubt his ability to follow the trail. Indeed it was almost too easy, for soon the tracks left the beaten streets of Snowcap and headed for the uninhabited costal area to the west of town.

Father Benton tracked the captain to a spot where a narrow trail led down the seaside cliffs to the beach below. He couldn’t see it from above, but the way the footprints stopped at the cliff face told him there was a cave there. He descended with care, trying to be as silent as possible.

When he reached the bottom he peered cautiously around the corner into the cave. A dim lantern provided enough light for him to see. The captain was there, as was Serapha. She sat awkwardly on the sandy floor, her hands bound in front of her. The lantern also provided enough light to aim, so Father Benton stepped forward with his crossbow raised.

“Let the girl go,” he said simply.

Captain Young spun around. His eyes widened in surprise. Then he laughed, an ugly, unstable sound. “She’s mine, you old coot,” he said. “I’m not going to.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to shoot you,” said the cleric.

The captain suddenly dropped to one knee and picked up a crossbow of his own from where it had lain hidden in the shadows. “Not if I shoot you first,” he said, and fired.

At that close range the bolt had enough power to bury itself to the feathers. Fortunately it hit the cleric in the shoulder, missing anything vital, but the force of it knocked him off his feet. He lay sprawled on the snow-covered sand just beyond the cavern mouth. He tried to get to his feet, but he couldn’t support himself with his left arm. With a groan of pain he collapsed back to the ground. He could feel the chill creeping into him, and he knew he was bleeding too freely, but he couldn’t summon any more energy.

Serapha stared at the still form of her friend. She suddenly realized that there wasn’t going to be any more rescue. Michael was probably out of commission, or he would have come, her brother Alan wouldn’t even miss her until it was near dawn, and by then it would almost certainly be too late. She would have to rescue herself, and soon if she wanted to save Father Benton too. Looks like there’s only one way out, she told herself. I can’t get untied, so I have to get Gabriel to let me go. And there’s only one way that’s going to happen.

“Gabriel,” she said, having no difficulty making her tone sincere with a touch of pleading in it. “Please, let me go to him. I’ll give you anything. I’ll do whatever you want. I promise.”

“You know what I want,” he said. And so she did. He’d told her in all to vivid detail what he wanted.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll do it. Just untie me. Let me take care of my friend before he dies.”

“You can take care of the old man after,” said Gabriel. Serapha had been hoping for a different answer, for this left only one path open to her, but she hadn’t really thought that Gabriel would let her go that easily.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“You swear, you’ll not run away once I untie you?”

“I promise.”

“I’ll kill him,” he gestured at the cleric, “if you do.”

“I understand,” she said. “I won’t try anything.”

Gabriel knelt next to her and undid the ropes around her hands. She flexed her fingers, working the stiffness out of them. Still kneeling beside her, Gabriel closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “Now,” he said, “keep your promise.”

Serapha shuddered. She didn’t want to do what she had to do, but she couldn’t see any other choice. She put one hand behind Gabriel’s head, feeling almost sick with revulsion, but she forced herself to put her lips to his neck and bite down. Immediately the rush of his blood hit her, and she no longer had to struggle against nausea. It didn’t matter that she hated what she was doing, that was lost in the warm red heat of the moment. Then along with the purely physical sensation of taking his blood she came into contact with his mind. That wasn’t quite as pleasant. He was no longer sane, but the confusion that swirled through his thoughts at the sensations of this second vampiric encounter was almost enjoyable for Serapha. With almost gleeful vengeance she thought, you didn’t have a clue what really happened before, did you?

She knew what had caused the intensity of their previous joining. Not long after she had changed, her father had sat her down for a rather bizarre “the birds and the bees” talk. He explained what her changed condition meant for whoever she might come to love. She’d understood how the blood-bond created when she took human blood would link her and her partner emotionally at a very deep level. But Gabriel didn’t have any such knowledge. He had no way of knowing that this time would be different, for now Serapha felt no love and no passion towards him. She felt only hatred. And where before the physical accompaniment of the emotional bond had been pleasurable, now it was painful. Gabriel shuddered with it, unable to cry out as he was held in complete paralysis. Serapha could feel that too, and her earlier reluctance returned. However much she might hate the captain, she wasn’t the kind that could draw pleasure from other people’s pain. She almost stopped. Surely this would be enough? But no, if she stopped now there was a chance that Gabriel might have enough strength left to keep her from escaping, keep her from saving Father Benton. She could take no chances. And so she continued drinking until the taste of Gabriel’s blood went dead in her mouth and his heart fluttered one last time and then stopped.

She let his body fall and tried to spit the ashen taste of that last mouthful out, wanting to gag. She’d just killed him. But there was no time for that. She quickly got to her feet and went over to Father Benton. He was still breathing, and she let out a little sigh of relief. She went to pick him up and then stopped with a gasp of pain. I forgot, vampires and clerics don’t mix. Oh well, nothing else but to just bear it, she told herself. The larger man was almost too heavy, even for her, and it was awkward, to say the least. But she managed to get him off the ground, and somehow she carried him up the narrow trail to the top of the cliffs. From there is was a simple matter of enduring the inescapable burning sensation for the rest of the trip. She gritted her teeth as waves of pain washed down her arms and walked on. Finally she reached the edge of town. She stopped at the first house she came to, assuming that this near his church anybody would know Father Benton. Fortunately she guessed right and was instantly let in by a worried housewife.

“What happened to the Father?” the woman exclaimed.

“Explanations later,” said Serapha. “Right now he needs help.”

The woman nodded and before long she was administering what first aid she knew while her husband went to fetch another cleric. Serapha found a quiet corner and just stayed out of everyone’s way. Soon the other cleric arrived, and before long Father Benton was sitting up, properly bandaged and well on his way to recovery.

“Serapha?” he said, spotting her in the corner. “Are you all right?”

She smiled. “Just like you to think of me when you’re just back from death’s door. Yes, I’m fine.”

“I’d give you a hug, but…” he shrugged.

She laughed. “It’s all right. Is Michael okay?”

“He was when I left,” said the cleric. “He should still be over at my house. He had a concussion, but he was over the worst when I left. But what happened? The last thing I remember was getting shot by that lunatic.”

Serapha closed her eyes. “I killed him,” she said softly. There was a sudden silence, and Serapha became aware again of the other people in the room.

“We can talk about it later,” said Father Benton. “And now if my esteemed colleague approves, I think I should be getting back to my own home.”

Father Benton’s fellow cleric smiled. “You’ll be fit as ever in a few days. There’s no reason why walking a few blocks should be beyond you right now. Just go slowly.”

“I have every intention of going slowly,” he replied. He said his thanks to the other cleric and to the housewife and her family, and then he set off down the road, moving at a sedate walk. Soon they arrived at Father Benton’s own home, next to the little church, and he let out a heartfelt sigh as he stepped inside the door. He settled gingerly into his chair, saying, “Your young man is upstairs in the spare bedroom. Don’t disturb him if he’s asleep, but you no doubt want to look in on him.”

“Thanks,” said Serapha, and headed up the stairs.

Michael was actually awake when Serapha came in. “Serapha! You’re all right!”

“Yes,” she said simply.

“What happened?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” she said. She sat down on the bed next to Michael. He slowly sat up, careful of his still tender head, and put one arm around her. She leaned against him and closed her eyes, the tension finally going out of her.

“Whatever happened,” said Michael, “I’m glad I didn’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone so soon after coming back to me.”

She opened her eyes again and looked up at him. “I’m very glad I didn’t lose you either.”

“Serapha… I’ve discovered how much I care about you. When I thought I’d lost you and you were with someone else, the way I felt… I couldn’t bear it. And tonight, when I was afraid I’d loose you for good… I love you. I don’t want to ever be without you. Serapha…”

“Stop,” said Serapha softly. “Please. I know what you want to say. And in a lot of ways I feel the same way. I do care for you very deeply. I think maybe I even love you.”

“But?” said Michael sadly, hearing the unspoken word in what she’d said.

“But I’m not ready. I can’t give my heart yet. My mother told me once, her people love only once. Once mated they never marry again, even if their loved one dies young. And that’s a part of me too. She warned me not to give my love too easily, and I didn’t listen. Now… now in a way my love has died, not because Gabriel died, but because the person I thought he was died. That person never existed, but I thought he did, and when I found out otherwise, it was like he died. It broke my heart. I know you would never break my heart like that. You’re exactly who you seem to be. But I can’t just jump in again. I can’t say ‘you’re the one for me.’ Not yet. I’m sorry if that hurts you. The last thing I want to do is to hurt you, but I can’t lie to you either.”

“I’m sorry too,” said Michael. “I’m sorry that Gabriel hurt you like that. But… you said not yet, you didn’t say not ever. Maybe… maybe for now we can go on as very close friends. But do you think maybe by this time next year I could ask you again?”

She smiled. “Yes,” was her simple reply.

“If that’s what you need, then I can wait,” said Michael, and he kissed her once, softly, and wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Quite some time later she came back downstairs. Father Benton was still sitting by the fire, staring absently into the flickering flames. Serapha sat down opposite him and looked into the fire as well.

“Why?” she said, eventually. “Why did all this have to happen? There were so many points where everything could have gone differently. If I hadn’t gone for a walk with my father, or if we’d taken a different path, everything would have been different. Or if I’d sailed on a different ship that first time, or if I hadn’t spent so much time talking to Gabriel, or if he hadn’t come back here when he did. Why this? Why me?”

“I don’t know,” said Father Benton. “There are many possible answers. It’s possible that the way things are is simply the way they happened, that chance is the answer.”

“But you don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t. It is my personal belief that life is the forge of the gods. Have you ever watched a smith at work? He takes the metal and puts it through the most severe of conditions. It is pounded on, heated red hot, suddenly quenched, bent and folded. The best weaponsmiths will reheat, fold, and reshape a piece of metal hundreds, even thousands of times, before it is fit to be a sword. But a simple horseshoe is only heated once, perhaps twice, and refolded not at all. I think that is how the gods shape us. Those of us who are the very best, the highest quality steel, are put through the greatest torment. We are tested to the edge of our ability. I think that you, child, are very high quality steel indeed. And this will quite likely be only one of the trials of your life. Perhaps no other forging will be quite this painful, but there will be others.”

Serapha was silent, thinking. “I can see what you’re saying, though it doesn’t give me as much comfort as I might like,” she said at last. “But I still have to wonder, why? Why this trial? Why did I have to… to kill Gabriel?”

“You wonder if there was some other way, don’t you?” said the cleric gently. “You torment yourself with the thought that maybe you didn’t need to kill. Maybe there was some other solution that you didn’t see.”

Serapha nodded wordlessly.

“Why did you do it? What made it necessary at that time, child? In your own mind as you made the choice you made, why did you choose thus?”

“Because… because there wasn’t time. You were bleeding to death. It was do something right then, or let you die. And I couldn’t think of anything else. I didn’t know what other tricks Gabriel might have had. He had the crossbow, what else could he have prepared? I just didn’t have time to think.”

“Yes. And the reason why you didn’t have time was because of me. The blame for this could easily be laid on my shoulders. If I’d had the good sense to call the watch in instead of going off on my own, then things would have been different. That might have ended with the captain just as dead, but at other hands than yours. And I do hold myself somewhat responsible for your troubles. But when you feel guilty over this, think of this: you did what you did to save a life. Whether the exchange of Captain Young’s life for mine was a good one it isn’t my place to judge, but you acted to do good, not evil, when you acted. And I, selfish man that I am, can’t help but be grateful for your choice.”

“I guess I have a lot to think about,” said Serapha. “And I am glad you lived. Very glad.”

Just then a soft knock sounded at the door. “I’ll get it,” said Serapha, not wanting Father Benton to exert himself. When she opened the door she found her brother Alan on the other side of if.

He took one look at her and said, “Something’s happened.”

“A great deal has happened,” said Serapha with a sigh.

“I had a feeling I should come and get you,” said Alan. “Perhaps it is time for us to go home?”

She looked up at him. “I think you’re right. Though I could wish you’d had your feeling a little earlier in the evening. But I would like to go home.”

She turned to Father Benton. “You’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Certainly! I’m not so old and feeble as that. And I’ll take care of young Michael for you as well.”

Serapha smiled. “Thank you,” she said. Then, turning to her brother, she said, “Let’s go.”

The trip was a swift as they could make it, and by the time the sun reached its zenith they had arrived. Serapha was tired, both physically and mentally, and she headed straight for her bed. When she awoke a little after sundown she still felt mentally unsettled. Talking with Father Benton had helped, but he couldn’t really understand what was troubling her. But there was one person who surely could.

“Dad?” she said from the door of the little study.

“Yes Serapha?” replied Aidan, setting down his pen and looking up at her.

“I need to talk. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” He set aside the sheet of parchment he’d been writing on and moved from the desk where he’d been sitting to the little couch that stood against one wall. “Here, come in and have a seat.”

Serapha sat down next to him on the couch, nervously rearranging her wings.

“Now, what did you want to talk about?”

Serapha looked up at her father, took a deep breath, and plunged into the story. When she was finished she said, “I talked about it with Bather Benton, and he helped some, but… he can’t understand what it was like. It isn’t just the fact that I killed him, it’s how. I felt him die! And I can still taste it, that last taste. It won’t go away. I can’t get it out of my mind.”

“Oh Serapha,” said Aidan, hugging her and folding his wings around her in a comforting embrace. “I wish I could take all that away from you. I really do. All I can say is that from my own experience the memory will fade in time.”

“Have you ever…”

“Yes,” said Aidan answering the question Serapha hadn’t quite wanted to voice. “Not in the same circumstances, but I have killed that way before. But what I’ve done isn’t the problem. I’ve dealt with my own demons.” He smiled then, “Literally at times. You have to find your own way to deal with what life’s given you.”

“I don’t know if I can. I mean… it’s part of me, his blood is in me, and I can’t forget that. It makes me sick thinking of it.”

“You want to throw up, but you can’t, and it’s too late anyway because your body has already absorbed it.” He closed his eye for a moment, remembering. “But there’s another way of looking at it, you know. Even vampires are still part of life’s circle. Someday you and I will die, and we’ll return to the earth, just like anyone else.

“They’ll bury Captain Young somewhere, and the grass will grow over him, the earth will reclaim him, and the people of the town will eat what grows from the earth, and he’ll be a part of all of them too. It’s just a bit more… immediate in your case. I know thinking about it that way won’t make it just go away, but it might help a little.”

“Maybe…”

“You might want to talk to you mother about it sometime. She might not have a vampire’s point of view on this, but she understands the way life and nature and the world all work a lot better than I do. There have been just a few moments in my life when I felt connected to the turning of the circle. But she was born with that connection. I envy her that sometimes. You and I, we have to find our way to our place in this life, discover who we are and how we fit into the big picture. But she’s always known.” He shrugged then, and gave Serapha another hug.

She hugged him back. “Thanks Dad. I guess I’ll learn to cope with the eventually. But I still wish it had never happened.”

“I could wish that too, Serapha. But even something like this can bring some good with it.”

“I can’t see what good there could possibly be.”

“Give it time,” said Aidan. “Give it time.”

Time heals many, if not all, ills and it was little more than a year later when Serapha stood in front of Father Benton’s little church with Michael by her side. The sun was setting in glorious shades of red, gold, and purple, as if even the sky knew what an important occasion it was. The lawn in front of the church was lit with dozens of lanterns, the scent of the first spring flowers was in the air, and the evening was clear, beautiful, and as far as Serapha was concerned, perfect.

“Nervous?” asked Michael, squeezing her hand gently.

“Not a bit,” said Serapha.

Father Benton smiled at them, holding his hand over their joined hands as he spoke a few simple words. Most such ceremonies were held inside the church, and the priest was traditionally supposed to place his hands directly over the couple’s, touching them, but Father Benton had been more than happy to alter the ceremony slightly for his young friend. He did finish with the words, as traditional on Mysteria as on Earth, “You may now kiss the bride.”

Michael did just that, kissing Serapha and wrapping his arms around her while the gathered relatives and friends cheered. She was blushing but smiling when at last he came up for air. And as the new couple were surrounded by well-wishers Serapha took a moment to reflect on the path that had led her to this spot. I guess Dad was right, she thought. If not for all the bad that’s happened, I’d have missed out on a lot of the good. Maybe I would still have done things differently if I’d known where they were going to lead, but… maybe not.

Then Michael caught her up in another hug and she added to herself, If I had to give up this in order to take back the mistakes I made, I guess I’ll keep them.

The End.

Blood Choice.