Five Hundred Years Ago
Everything was quiet for a few weeks after the two bodies were found. The warriors came down from the mountains eventually. There was no sign of werewolves.
Everyone believed that the nightmare was over. But the reprieve did not last long.
About a month after the last couple of murders, people began disappearing. Some were never found. Those that turned up did so dead and drained of blood.
The attacks happened during the night, so the chief placed a curfew limiting movement after dusk. But it turned out that they were not safe even in their own homes.
Nobody believed this was the werewolves’ doing anymore. They were facing something else, something much more evil.
Something that was more in tune with the tales they told about vampires.
The knowledge created panic and that was when it dawned on the tribe the mistake they had made.
Killing the werewolves.
The warrior clan had not just been protecting them from rival tribes. They had also been their line of defence against vampires. With them gone, the tribe was exposed and vulnerable.
Now, they were facing an even worse evil. An evil they couldn’t hunt down with arrows and spears.
Ruby wondered whether it was a coincidence that vampires were suddenly targeting the tribe so soon after the werewolf clan was exterminated.
Had they always been lurking around, waiting for a chance to prey on the community? Or had they instigated the event that led to the discovery of the warrior clan’s true nature?
But that had been the werewolf hunter’s doing. If Alexander knew about werewolves, then he must know about vampires too. Had he known that getting rid of the werewolves would leave the tribe exposed to worse creatures?
Did he know how to get rid of them?
When the chief called a meeting to figure out how to salvage the situation, everybody looked at Alexander, expecting he’d know how to fight against the vampires. He said the only way was to leave them out in the sun or decapitate them.
A plan was hatched. During the day, the warriors searched for the vampires’ hideouts. At night, groups of three or four families joined up and slept in the same house.
Nobody knew anything about the vampires. How many they were, what they looked like. Did they look human, like the werewolves? Did they fly like bats, like the tales told?
As the scourge kept on, Ruby’s thoughts went to Eric.
He and his people had kept them safe from all the dangers they had been ignorant about. And what had they done in return? Taken away their home and hunted them down like wild dogs.
Was he still alive? She hoped he was. There had been no report that the warriors had found him. But what if they had killed him in his wolf form? They wouldn’t know they had killed him.
One night, when she couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t stop thinking about him, she slipped out of her room. She made her way downstairs and out through the back door.
Her father would have a fit if he knew she was outside with everything that was going on. But the chief’s residence was heavily guarded, and there hadn’t been an incident in days. Maybe the vampires had moved on to somewhere new.
She had just stepped onto the lawn outside when someone stepped out of the shadows. Her heart jumped to her throat before she recognised Alexander in the moonlight.
She swallowed. “Do you ever sleep?”
During the day, he led the warriors in searching for the vampires’ hideout. At night, he stayed by her side. If she was in her room, he was right outside it. Every time. She had assumed he went to sleep once she retired to bed.
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he asked, “What are you doing outside at this hour? It’s not safe.”
“What about him?” she whispered.
Alexander stepped closer. “What?”
She looked into the distance, to where a stone wall separated the residence from the forest beyond. “He is out there, all alone, with no home. Everybody he cared about is either dead or hunting him down.” Her eyes went back to Alexander, who was watching her. “Who’ll keep him safe?”
“You care for him,” Alexander observed.
She didn’t deny it. She took a step towards him. “Promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“If you find him, please let him go.”
He frowned. “Princess…”
She reached forward and took his hand without warning. His skin was cold. Too cold. But she wasn’t paying attention to that. “Promise me,” she pleaded, looking into his eyes. “Just this one thing.”
He was still for a few seconds. And then he nodded. “Okay.”
She released a huge breath. “Thank you.”
Again, without warning, she threw her arms around him and embraced him.
The gesture took Alexander by surprise. He knew he should put space between them as quickly as possible. But…when was the last time he had been embraced like this?
By a warm, living, breathing human. The only time a human got this close to him was when he was drinking from their vein, draining them.
He held his breath, refusing to breathe her in.
Because he knew just how lovely her scent was. How much he loved it.
It was one of the reasons he had decided to settle among her people.
It had been an impulsive decision–but when was the last time he felt a pull to a human that didn’t involve him wanting to drain them?
The first day he came to the area, he ran into the werewolf. Her werewolf. He had warned him off the area and ordered him to leave. Told him it was not the place for him.
Alexander would have left. He was looking for somewhere he could settle for the next two decades or so, and a tribe with a werewolf population was the last place he would have chosen.
But then he saw her.
She intrigued him…her scent, her smile, her face. He hadn’t felt drawn to a woman like that since he became a vampire. He had thought himself incapable of such affections.
After all, he was a creature of the dark. How could he be captivated by a woman and not because he craved to savour her blood while he watched the life drain from her eyes?
It had been so long since he felt such a desire that went against his dark nature.
Would anything come of it?
So he had stayed.
He was a lone traveller and he knew he would never be able to get rid of the werewolves on his own. So he made the humans do it. All he had to do was expose one of the werewolves. The tribespeople did the rest.
He wondered whether Ruby would think the same about her werewolf if she knew he was partly to blame for the tragedy that had befallen her people.
If he had done more than give him a warning, maybe Alexander wouldn’t have stayed long enough to cause havoc. Maybe he never would have met her.
Now, everything was his for the taking. He could stay for as long as he liked, or leave as soon as he wanted.
He wondered why he craved her warmth, and not the one running in her veins. Was it possible to go back, to break free from the darkness that was now a part of him?
He had regretted his decision to sell his soul to the Maker for many years. His moments of peace were little pockets of time in the three hundred years he had been wandering the earth as an undead.
Was this his chance to have the kind of life he had before?
Would the Maker allow it?
In her eyes, he was already imperfect, tainted by the light because he was a daywalker. Would she just sit by and watch him drift further from what she had intended for him?
She gave a piece of herself for every vampire she made. She hoped the few she could make would make others, raise armies to fight against humans and overcome the Moon Goddess’s children.
The tale of the Maker and the Moon Goddess was as old as time–one of sibling rivalry. Born of the Mother Creator, one daughter had earned the mother’s favour while the other evoked her wrath.
The good daughter was given the mandate to protect humans at night, becoming the Moon Goddess. The bad daughter was banished to the underworld to rule over forsaken souls.
Angry, she had made vampires to prey on the humans her sister and mother loved so much. Any soul she could bring to her side was a huge victory against them. Soon after, her sister made werewolves to counter her dark creatures.
She would have gladly matched her sister vampire for werewolf. But as it happened, their mother had bestowed upon her sister the power over life, while she had been denied.
That meant she could only form an army of the dead. And to do that, she had to give up a piece of her life force every time she made a new soldier.
Her sister did not have that problem.
She only had to give a piece of herself to create the first few werewolves. Since her creations were living, they could procreate, unlike the Maker’s vampires. So while they were not as powerful as vampires, they had the numbers.
It was impossible for the Maker to win this war.
So how willing would she be to lose one of the few who could help her create an army to rival her sister’s?
Did he want to risk her wrath?
He had gotten rid of dozens of werewolves. She must be happy about that. Was that a big enough price to allow him to dally in the human world, to entertain feelings that should have died with him?
Ruby still loved the werewolf even after knowing his true nature. Could she love him like that too? If he could pretend to be human…could it happen?
She pulled away, taking her warmth with her. “You are too cold,” she told him. “You should come inside.”
When was the last time anyone had worried about him?
Would she care about him if she knew he was a monster?
Would she accept him like she had accepted the werewolf?
“I’ll escort you back,” he offered.
Ruby fell asleep quickly after she went back to her room. Her troubled thoughts had settled–was it because she had shared them? She felt oddly relaxed after talking with Alexander.
Her peaceful slumber was broken in the morning by a loud wail from downstairs. She was dressed and hurrying down the stairs within the minute.
There was commotion outside the library. A few elders were present, and servants were scattered all around.
It was Maeve’s mother who approached her, her eyes teary. The woman threw her arms around her. “Oh, Ruby.”
Ruby took in the scene around her. Everybody was now looking at her, the looks on their faces a mix of shock, pity, horror…
Maeve’s mother had pulled away and was now trying to lead her away from the library. “Let’s step outside–”
Ruby shook her head and stepped towards the library. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t wait for a response as she rushed towards the room as if drawn by an invisible force. The elders stepped out of her way when she got to the doorway.
And then she saw him.
Her father.
Sitting at his desk, dead.
Drained of blood, as the medicine man later confirmed.