Prologue
Light came from every angle, its warmth turned searing. Golden embers sparked and burned at her flesh. The odor was pungent; the stench coming from her bubbling skin. The heat overcame her and gave her no relief; she could not die and the pain would not stop. The flames kept coming at her, they would not dissipate. She was the wick of the candle, and surrounded by fuel. Caged in hell with an eternity to atone, the burning would last forever, and she prayed to be ash.
Only love would set her free.
Light came from every angle, its warmth turned searing. Golden embers sparked and burned at her flesh. The odor was pungent; the stench coming from her bubbling skin. The heat overcame her and gave her no relief; she could not die and the pain would not stop. The flames kept coming at her, they would not dissipate. She was the wick of the candle, and surrounded by fuel. Caged in hell with an eternity to atone, the burning would last forever, and she prayed to be ash.
Only love would set her free.
Chapter 1
Seven years had passed since Sarain first learned of her true origins, and in that time she learned to cope with the changes within her body, but has never truly accepted it. She spent her time in hiding, more closed off than ever, sticking to the shadows like a creature, hoping to keep off her father’s radar. She trained and honed her skills, and learned how to properly use her growing power. Sarain continued to hunt demons, picking them off like cattle, and never staying in one area too long.
Sarain studied and researched everything she could possibly find on demon folklore, anything that could teach her what her father was and how to kill him, but nothing panned out, and any shred of credibility in what she found all pointed to the same results: sunlight, fire, holy emblems, dismemberment, and destroying the heart. All which killed ordinary demons, but Aion wasn’t ordinary. Sarain already knew that holy emblems and sunlight had no effect on him, and she wasn’t sure if the rest would either. Besides, Aion was far quicker and stronger than Sarain. Even with all her training, she doubted she was strong enough yet to take him on, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be.
All Sarain could hope for was that by tracking Aion’s moves perhaps she could find something to use against him. She looked into places he had been to, and accounts that sounded like his work. She dragged herself home, one night, after a short trip out of town, looking into a possible “Ancient” account, but nothing viable could be found. The best Sarain got from the trip was a tip from another hunter claiming that an “Ancient” had been reported recently in a nearby town called Shaven, and that the town itself was apparently strange as well. He said he had already checked the tip out himself, and found no evidence to back it, and that the town seemed ordinary. But he told Sarain that she could check for herself if she was so inclined. With nothing else to go on, this town was Sarain’s only choice. She just needed to collect her things first before traveling there.
She carried a small backpack on her back as she trekked to her dwelling, the moon lighting her way. Her place wasn’t in the best part of town, and she wondered if her lack of being around would have gotten her place broken into. She knew it was safe from demons; well, demons that weren’t Aion, because she had set up a barrier around it, but that barrier did not keep out bad humans.
As her dwelling came into sight, the place looked untouched; the door was shut and the windows intact. Sarain felt a sigh of relief, and she approached her door. She started up the steps leading to it, but then suddenly stopped; she felt strange. Sarain began to feel sick like her energy was being drained. She quickly reached for her door knob, to go inside, when sparks immediately burnt at Sarain’s fingers. She moved her hand back in pain and then reached with her other hand, and the same thing happened. Sarain took a step back and looked at her door. Everything appeared normal, she heard no sound of electrical frequency that could be causing the sparks, and then it hit Sarain. Her barrier, the one she set up herself to protect her place from demons, and that she had been living with for weeks, was suddenly keeping her out.
Sarain felt no different from when she had left her place days ago, but something must have changed. She stared at her door for a long moment, recalling all that was inside; weapons, clothes, food, but nothing precious. Sarain then turned around and walked down her steps. She would be heading to Shaven sooner than expected.
Sarain sat staring across the table, enamored with her dinner guest. Orran gazed back with his hazel eyes and a slight smile on his face; a half smirk he always made when talking to Sarain. Candles burned at the center of the table, dimly lighting the room. Their plates were empty and the dishes were sparklingly clean. Half full wine glasses stood untouched as the pair only saw one another.
Orran gently caressed Sarain’s hand with his from across the table while staring at her lovingly. She felt herself blush like a young school girl in the presence of her crush. Orran smiled at Sarain’s fluster, and told her, “You are so cute when you’re embarrassed.” She got redder.
Sarain had wanted to say so much to Orran. She worked up the courage to tell him, “I’ve been waiting for you…for a long time now.” His face suddenly turned serious, and he let go of Sarain’s hand and got up from his chair. He walked over slowly to her, and leaned down. Sarain looked up at Orran as he moved in, and she heard him whisper, “You can stop waiting.” She closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her, but the kiss never came.
Sarain suddenly remembered that none of this had ever happened; she was dreaming.
Sarain opened her eyes as her bus pulled into the small station. She looked around to see that not that many people were on her bus; Shaven was a small town that lacked visitors. She got up after the bus came to a full stop and the driver opened the doors. She grabbed her one backpack and headed off the bus. Sarain stepped down into the cool night air and looked up at the bright moon and the starry sky; it was a beautiful night.
Sarain glanced around the station, and spotted a janitor emptying the garbage cans. She approached the man and asked him, “Excuse me, but do you know anywhere I can find a place to stay for the night?” The janitor gazed at Sarain with puzzlement, and then replied, “You came here with no one to visit?” She looked confused and answered, “Yes, actually that’s true…” The janitor then quickly said, “Sorry about that, we don’t get many tourists here in Shaven unless they’re visiting a local… Umm, let me think… There’s the Scarlet Motel. It’s not too far from here, just down that street over there, you can’t miss it; it has a big neon red sign.”
“Okay, thanks,” Sarain replied. She then turned and headed down the road she was shown. As she walked, she noticed how out of time the town was; she saw few cars, small plain looking homes all with old fashioned looking structures. The roads were laid with gravel, there were no sidewalks, and the street signs were all wooden. When Sarain finally reached the Scarlet Motel, it stood out as the only modern building around with its flashy neon sign, but even it looked a bit rundown.
Sarain went inside, and walked to the check in desk. There a scruffy man slept in his chair, snoring loudly. Sarain rang the service bell three times before he woke, and when he did, he stared at her stupefied for a second before finally saying, “I haven’t seen you here before.” Sarain looked at the man with annoyance and said, “No, that’s why I’m checking in.” The man stared at her for a moment longer as if trying to decipher something, it made Sarain uncomfortable, and then he asked, “Are you staying by the hour or by the day?”
Sarain realized what it was the man had been thinking, he was wondering if she was a prostitute. She immediately answered, “By the day,” in a firm voice. The man handed Sarain a log book to sign in, as he muttered, “We don’t get many overnighters.” It was a comment that Sarain could have done without, because it told her more about the kind of place the motel was then she had wanted to know. Though on the plus side the man didn’t ask her many questions, and allowed her to pay in cash. She signed in with a fake name, as she believed the other attendants before her had done. He then handed her a key, and Sarain went on her way.
Sarain found the room easily; it was the last one at the very end of the motel. She went to open the door and the knob stuck for a moment, but she forced the door open. She turned on the light, and immediately found the room detestable; the carpet was worn and dirty, the sheets were stained, the room was poorly lit, there was a large mirror above the bed, and everything was a dingy shade of red.
She groaned with disgust as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. She placed her bag on the bed, and feared seeing the bathroom. Regardless, Sarain cleaned herself up from her long bus ride, and changed into her only other set of clothes; another all black outfit that mostly covered her from neck to toe. She let down her long, wavy, black hair and it fell to her waist.
Sarain then went to the door, and stepped outside. She walked back to the motel’s office where the scruffy guy sat bored. He looked up as she stepped inside, her hair seemed to catch his attention, and now he stared at Sarain even more than he did before.
“Is your room alright?” he asked her curiously. “Its fine,” she muttered in reply, then asked, “Is there anywhere in town I can buy some supplies? Clothes and such.” The man thought for a moment, and then answered, “We don’t have many stores, and most of them would be closed by now… You can try the marketplace though, it’s always active.”
The idea of a marketplace seemed very old fashioned to Sarain, but she asked anyway, “Where is it?” “On the outskirts of town,” the man replied, and then he added, “But not everyone there takes kindly to strangers; it’s not really a place for tourists.” “I think I’ll be fine,” Sarain responded. The man shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”
Sarain left and set out to find this market place. She still had a few hours until dawn and felt like exploring the town. The streets were dark with only a few streetlamps to light the way, but Sarain did not have trouble seeing; her night vision had developed quite well over the years. Sarain walked quickly, looking down each road to learn what she could about the area as she headed toward this marketplace. She trekked weaponless, having left all her weapons back in her last dwelling, unable to retrieve them, but she didn’t worry much about it. She still felt plenty able to defend herself.
The walk went by fast, the town wasn’t very big, but Sarain had trouble locating the marketplace. She looked around, but didn’t see it in the street where the man described. Then she noticed light coming from a narrow opening between two buildings. Sarain walked towards the light and realized that it led to a nearly hidden alleyway full of vendors. The alley opened up wider than Sarain expected and she wondered how this was possible without seriously limiting the space of the buildings around it; it was like the dimensions didn’t fit.
Candles lit up the marketplace making it almost look romantic. The vendors decorated their booths with colorful cloths and designs, and more people walked the area than Sarain had anticipated. She made her way slowly through the alleyway, looking at what the booths had to offer. Sarain noticed she was catching many stares, and it was obvious to everyone that she was an outsider. A few people didn’t seem to mind her, but others gave her dirty or curious looks. The women more so than the men, seemed displeased with Sarain as though she were some kind of harlot, and a few men did indeed stare at Sarain as though she were a grand prize.
Sarain tried to avoid eye contact as she walked through the alley, not just to hide her unique eyes, but out of discomfort. Then she suddenly found herself unable to avoid one particular set of eyes; a pair of vibrant blue eyes that gazed at Sarain with amazement and disbelief. Sarain’s breath caught in her throat as she instantly recognized her spectator. She stood still and stiff as she stared blankly forward, not sure of what to do.
Really, what could she say to Winston?
Seven years had passed since Sarain first learned of her true origins, and in that time she learned to cope with the changes within her body, but has never truly accepted it. She spent her time in hiding, more closed off than ever, sticking to the shadows like a creature, hoping to keep off her father’s radar. She trained and honed her skills, and learned how to properly use her growing power. Sarain continued to hunt demons, picking them off like cattle, and never staying in one area too long.
Sarain studied and researched everything she could possibly find on demon folklore, anything that could teach her what her father was and how to kill him, but nothing panned out, and any shred of credibility in what she found all pointed to the same results: sunlight, fire, holy emblems, dismemberment, and destroying the heart. All which killed ordinary demons, but Aion wasn’t ordinary. Sarain already knew that holy emblems and sunlight had no effect on him, and she wasn’t sure if the rest would either. Besides, Aion was far quicker and stronger than Sarain. Even with all her training, she doubted she was strong enough yet to take him on, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be.
All Sarain could hope for was that by tracking Aion’s moves perhaps she could find something to use against him. She looked into places he had been to, and accounts that sounded like his work. She dragged herself home, one night, after a short trip out of town, looking into a possible “Ancient” account, but nothing viable could be found. The best Sarain got from the trip was a tip from another hunter claiming that an “Ancient” had been reported recently in a nearby town called Shaven, and that the town itself was apparently strange as well. He said he had already checked the tip out himself, and found no evidence to back it, and that the town seemed ordinary. But he told Sarain that she could check for herself if she was so inclined. With nothing else to go on, this town was Sarain’s only choice. She just needed to collect her things first before traveling there.
She carried a small backpack on her back as she trekked to her dwelling, the moon lighting her way. Her place wasn’t in the best part of town, and she wondered if her lack of being around would have gotten her place broken into. She knew it was safe from demons; well, demons that weren’t Aion, because she had set up a barrier around it, but that barrier did not keep out bad humans.
As her dwelling came into sight, the place looked untouched; the door was shut and the windows intact. Sarain felt a sigh of relief, and she approached her door. She started up the steps leading to it, but then suddenly stopped; she felt strange. Sarain began to feel sick like her energy was being drained. She quickly reached for her door knob, to go inside, when sparks immediately burnt at Sarain’s fingers. She moved her hand back in pain and then reached with her other hand, and the same thing happened. Sarain took a step back and looked at her door. Everything appeared normal, she heard no sound of electrical frequency that could be causing the sparks, and then it hit Sarain. Her barrier, the one she set up herself to protect her place from demons, and that she had been living with for weeks, was suddenly keeping her out.
Sarain felt no different from when she had left her place days ago, but something must have changed. She stared at her door for a long moment, recalling all that was inside; weapons, clothes, food, but nothing precious. Sarain then turned around and walked down her steps. She would be heading to Shaven sooner than expected.
Sarain sat staring across the table, enamored with her dinner guest. Orran gazed back with his hazel eyes and a slight smile on his face; a half smirk he always made when talking to Sarain. Candles burned at the center of the table, dimly lighting the room. Their plates were empty and the dishes were sparklingly clean. Half full wine glasses stood untouched as the pair only saw one another.
Orran gently caressed Sarain’s hand with his from across the table while staring at her lovingly. She felt herself blush like a young school girl in the presence of her crush. Orran smiled at Sarain’s fluster, and told her, “You are so cute when you’re embarrassed.” She got redder.
Sarain had wanted to say so much to Orran. She worked up the courage to tell him, “I’ve been waiting for you…for a long time now.” His face suddenly turned serious, and he let go of Sarain’s hand and got up from his chair. He walked over slowly to her, and leaned down. Sarain looked up at Orran as he moved in, and she heard him whisper, “You can stop waiting.” She closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her, but the kiss never came.
Sarain suddenly remembered that none of this had ever happened; she was dreaming.
Sarain opened her eyes as her bus pulled into the small station. She looked around to see that not that many people were on her bus; Shaven was a small town that lacked visitors. She got up after the bus came to a full stop and the driver opened the doors. She grabbed her one backpack and headed off the bus. Sarain stepped down into the cool night air and looked up at the bright moon and the starry sky; it was a beautiful night.
Sarain glanced around the station, and spotted a janitor emptying the garbage cans. She approached the man and asked him, “Excuse me, but do you know anywhere I can find a place to stay for the night?” The janitor gazed at Sarain with puzzlement, and then replied, “You came here with no one to visit?” She looked confused and answered, “Yes, actually that’s true…” The janitor then quickly said, “Sorry about that, we don’t get many tourists here in Shaven unless they’re visiting a local… Umm, let me think… There’s the Scarlet Motel. It’s not too far from here, just down that street over there, you can’t miss it; it has a big neon red sign.”
“Okay, thanks,” Sarain replied. She then turned and headed down the road she was shown. As she walked, she noticed how out of time the town was; she saw few cars, small plain looking homes all with old fashioned looking structures. The roads were laid with gravel, there were no sidewalks, and the street signs were all wooden. When Sarain finally reached the Scarlet Motel, it stood out as the only modern building around with its flashy neon sign, but even it looked a bit rundown.
Sarain went inside, and walked to the check in desk. There a scruffy man slept in his chair, snoring loudly. Sarain rang the service bell three times before he woke, and when he did, he stared at her stupefied for a second before finally saying, “I haven’t seen you here before.” Sarain looked at the man with annoyance and said, “No, that’s why I’m checking in.” The man stared at her for a moment longer as if trying to decipher something, it made Sarain uncomfortable, and then he asked, “Are you staying by the hour or by the day?”
Sarain realized what it was the man had been thinking, he was wondering if she was a prostitute. She immediately answered, “By the day,” in a firm voice. The man handed Sarain a log book to sign in, as he muttered, “We don’t get many overnighters.” It was a comment that Sarain could have done without, because it told her more about the kind of place the motel was then she had wanted to know. Though on the plus side the man didn’t ask her many questions, and allowed her to pay in cash. She signed in with a fake name, as she believed the other attendants before her had done. He then handed her a key, and Sarain went on her way.
Sarain found the room easily; it was the last one at the very end of the motel. She went to open the door and the knob stuck for a moment, but she forced the door open. She turned on the light, and immediately found the room detestable; the carpet was worn and dirty, the sheets were stained, the room was poorly lit, there was a large mirror above the bed, and everything was a dingy shade of red.
She groaned with disgust as she stepped in and closed the door behind her. She placed her bag on the bed, and feared seeing the bathroom. Regardless, Sarain cleaned herself up from her long bus ride, and changed into her only other set of clothes; another all black outfit that mostly covered her from neck to toe. She let down her long, wavy, black hair and it fell to her waist.
Sarain then went to the door, and stepped outside. She walked back to the motel’s office where the scruffy guy sat bored. He looked up as she stepped inside, her hair seemed to catch his attention, and now he stared at Sarain even more than he did before.
“Is your room alright?” he asked her curiously. “Its fine,” she muttered in reply, then asked, “Is there anywhere in town I can buy some supplies? Clothes and such.” The man thought for a moment, and then answered, “We don’t have many stores, and most of them would be closed by now… You can try the marketplace though, it’s always active.”
The idea of a marketplace seemed very old fashioned to Sarain, but she asked anyway, “Where is it?” “On the outskirts of town,” the man replied, and then he added, “But not everyone there takes kindly to strangers; it’s not really a place for tourists.” “I think I’ll be fine,” Sarain responded. The man shrugged and said, “Suit yourself.”
Sarain left and set out to find this market place. She still had a few hours until dawn and felt like exploring the town. The streets were dark with only a few streetlamps to light the way, but Sarain did not have trouble seeing; her night vision had developed quite well over the years. Sarain walked quickly, looking down each road to learn what she could about the area as she headed toward this marketplace. She trekked weaponless, having left all her weapons back in her last dwelling, unable to retrieve them, but she didn’t worry much about it. She still felt plenty able to defend herself.
The walk went by fast, the town wasn’t very big, but Sarain had trouble locating the marketplace. She looked around, but didn’t see it in the street where the man described. Then she noticed light coming from a narrow opening between two buildings. Sarain walked towards the light and realized that it led to a nearly hidden alleyway full of vendors. The alley opened up wider than Sarain expected and she wondered how this was possible without seriously limiting the space of the buildings around it; it was like the dimensions didn’t fit.
Candles lit up the marketplace making it almost look romantic. The vendors decorated their booths with colorful cloths and designs, and more people walked the area than Sarain had anticipated. She made her way slowly through the alleyway, looking at what the booths had to offer. Sarain noticed she was catching many stares, and it was obvious to everyone that she was an outsider. A few people didn’t seem to mind her, but others gave her dirty or curious looks. The women more so than the men, seemed displeased with Sarain as though she were some kind of harlot, and a few men did indeed stare at Sarain as though she were a grand prize.
Sarain tried to avoid eye contact as she walked through the alley, not just to hide her unique eyes, but out of discomfort. Then she suddenly found herself unable to avoid one particular set of eyes; a pair of vibrant blue eyes that gazed at Sarain with amazement and disbelief. Sarain’s breath caught in her throat as she instantly recognized her spectator. She stood still and stiff as she stared blankly forward, not sure of what to do.
Really, what could she say to Winston?
Chapter 2
Sarain stared at Winston for a while, as he did her. His blond hair was longer than the last time she had seen him, but everything else about him looked the same. Except he wasn’t alone; on his arm was a young woman with fair skin and blond hair. The woman looked confused by Winston’s sudden reaction, but soon realized that he was staring at Sarain. After another hesitant moment went by, Winston finally walked towards Sarain, his companion in tow.
Sarain took a deep breath to prepare herself for what was about to happen as Winston approached her. He stopped clearly in front of Sarain, his face expressionless, and he asked in an emotionless tone, “What are you doing here?” She quickly replied, “I’m on business,” and then after a moment of silence, she added, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Winston gazed at Sarain for a moment while searching his thoughts, and she stood uneasy with the tension between them. Finally Winston spoke again and said with his voice a little softer, “It’s been a long time.” Sarain nodded in agreement, and replied, “About ten years, I think.” To Sarain’s surprise, Winston gave a slight smile, and said to her, “You haven’t aged a day.” It was a polite expression, but Sarain knew that his comment was likely to be true with the demon blood coursing through her veins. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and responded to Winston, “Neither have you, but then I guess that’s to be expected.”
Winston smiled again, this time a little fuller, in response to Sarain’s amusing remark. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted when Winston’s female companion cleared her throat. They both turned and looked at the blond, and then Winston finally thought to say, “Oh, this is Julianne.” She turned and looked at Sarain then stated, “I’m his girlfriend.”
Sarain quickly examined the woman, she noticed multiple bite marks on her neck, some of them old, and according to Sarain’s keen senses, she smelt human. She looked Julianne in the eye and then commented, “You must be his feeding companion.” Julianne looked a bit appalled by the statement, but Winston quickly remarked, “How astute of you.” Sarain shrugged and replied, “Not really, you always were one to pair up with a feeding companion over hunting… I did find you in the brothel after all.” The comment caught Julianne off guard, it was apparent that Winston hadn’t shared his whole history with the woman; in fact, she still stared at Sarain with a clueless expression as to who she was.
“I’m Sarain by the way,” she told Julianne, but the blond didn’t seem familiar with her name. Sarain didn’t really care if the girl knew who she was, she never expected for Winston to wait around pining for her, she had abandoned him after all. And with his age, odds were that she was only a small blip in his romantic life.
Sarain then turned to Winston, and said, “I should probably let the two of you go, I’m sure you are busy, and I have things to do myself.” She wanted to at least be respectful to Winston, but also felt strange standing there with him and with Julianne as well. He was a part of her past that she had never expected to see again, and looking at him made her feel guilty over how she had treated him. Winston himself seemed a bit awkward, but he nodded in agreement with Sarain, and then remarked, “It was nice seeing you.” Sarain knew it was another polite comment, but she felt as though he truly meant it; she believed that Winston wished her well.
Julianne took this moment as a cue to pull Winston away, and together the couple walked past Sarain. Sarain fought the urge to turn around and watch Winston leave; she didn’t see him peer over his shoulder as he walked away.
Sarain continued on with her shopping, she went from booth to booth, seeing many strange things. Some looked to be selling charms and potions, others sold ritual garbs, but not a single normal outfit could be found, and the only weapons Sarain saw were engraved, jeweled knives, none of which looked like they would hold up in a fight. Sarain neared the end of her shopping search when she noticed yet another person staring at her, but this one struck her as odd. It appeared to be a man in a hooded cloak, she was sure he was watching her, but she couldn’t quite make out his face. She tried not to be obvious about looking, but the man kept managing to keep his face hidden.
Sarain shrugged it off as another curious stranger, and started walking away. After about a minute of walking down the market alleyway, Sarain realized that the cloaked man was following her. She continued to walk as normal, and didn’t let on to the fact that she had spotted the man on her tail; there were still many others around, and she doubted the man would make a move on her with so many to witness.
She went to a booth and pretended to exam its items, she picked up a necklace, but as she did so, its pendant came loose and fell to the ground. Sarain bent down to pick it up, and in the moment she looked up she caught a strange feature of the man stalking her. She saw his eyes, his face was still hidden in his shadowy hood, but a flash of yellow gave away that her stalker wasn’t human. Sarain instantly thought of Sephor’s yellow eyes, but knew that it couldn’t be him, she had killed him herself. Whoever this creature was was new to Sarain, but he watched her as though he knew her.
Sarain placed the necklace and its pendant back on the table, and turned to leave. She knew that if a demon’s eye color was of a unique shade, then it usually meant it was stronger than a vil sang, and she was without a weapon. She hoped her training wouldn’t fail her. She quickly walked down the alley to its exit while trying to devise a plan. She debated waiting in the marketplace until dawn, which wasn’t too far away, but she herself didn’t want to get caught in the daylight. She thought of going back to her motel, but didn’t want the creature to track her scent, especially now that she could no longer setup barriers around her dwellings. And then she thought of Winston, he must live nearby to be out so close to dawn, perhaps she could track him to his home.
Suddenly something came to Sarain’s attention; she no longer heard footsteps behind her. She quickly turned around to see the cloaked man missing from the alleyway, and she wondered where he had gone, and if he was still following her. Sarain contemplated going back to her room, but knew that she wasn’t quite safe yet. But she also worried about inconveniencing Winston as well as she worried that she might complicate things for him if he wasn’t alone.
Sarain took a moment, and then decided to go back to the marketplace; she was going to find Winston. She realized that she might be leading this creature straight to him, but then she also knew that if this creature had been watching all this time, then it would have seen her talking to Winston; she had likely already dragged him into this mess.
Sarain entered back into the marketplace, and immediately headed straight to where she had encountered Winston. She didn’t want to draw more attention to herself than she already had with being an outsider, so she pretended to look at booths as she lightly sniffed for a scent; her years of training had unlocked some of her more demonic traits. She recognized the scent of Winston’s companion, Julianne, first; her human blood was more potent, and after a little more digging, Sarain caught a hint of a familiar scent, Winston. His smell brought back memories, and she remembered waking up next to him, covered in that scent. She was surprised that she hadn’t picked up on it sooner.
Sarain followed his fragrance down the alleyway, with it slowly growing stronger. It wavered from booth to booth, showing that he had stopped to shop at times, but it continued down the alley. Sarain followed the scent to a surprising stop; she stood looking at a dead end. The alleyway ended with a solid brick wall; multiple buildings met, blocking it in. It didn’t make sense to her, his trail led her there, and it didn’t seem as though he had doubled back; his scent was stronger there than anywhere else in the alleyway.
Sarain began to glance around, and then she decided to double back to the spot she had found Winston at and try again. His scent was getting weak by the time Sarain reached their encounter spot. Now she didn’t bother to conceal her actions she searched around, and began asking the vendors if they knew the man she was talking to earlier, but she was met with ignorance and blank stares. She knew these same people had blatantly stared at her earlier, but now that she addressed them, they wouldn’t meet her eyes.
She sighed in frustration as she started to head back to the dead end, when the eyes of an old gypsy woman caught her own. The elderly woman stared at her for a second, and then began to wave her over. Sarain approached the woman with caution, and the old lady whispered, “You are looking for your friend are you not?” Sarain nodded, and the woman continued to say, “He lives in Wormwood Alley.” The gypsy woman then pointed with a croaked finger back down the alleyway Sarain had come from, and muttered, “It lies that way.” Sarain looked at her confused and stated, “But that only leads to a dead end.”
The old woman shook her head, and whispered, “The bricks lie… Walk through them and you will find your way.” Sarain thought of the vil sang club the X that she had destroyed long ago, and how it had been made to have a glamour illusion to trick humans into not seeing it, perhaps this Wormwood Alley worked the same way, but fooled the eyes of demons and humans alike.
Sarain thanked the elderly woman and turned to leave, when the woman grabbed her by the arm. She then said to Sarain in a hoarse voice, “That isn’t a safe place for pretty girls like you, wait until dawn.” Sarain pulled her arm away and turned to the woman, saying, “I can handle myself.” The woman then reached into her robe and pulled out a rosary, “Take this,” Sarain stepped back as the gypsy tried handing it to her. The woman looked up into Sarain’s eyes, and immediately placed the rosary back into her robes. “Perhaps not,” she muttered to Sarain. The old woman gave Sarain a strange glance as she wandered away from her, and Sarain continued back down the alley.
She hurried to the alley’s dead end as quickly as she could for it was nearing dawn. When she reached it she stared at the walls trying to figure out which one was false, but they all looked real. She then extended her hands and felt the bricks; she dragged her fingers along their rough exteriors, and felt nothing abnormal about them. Then she lowered her reach and suddenly saw her hand go through brick; a small portion on the lower wall was an illusion.
Sarain bent down and crawled through the hidden opening, and found darkness on the other side. It was as though she had walked into a building; she glanced around and immediately found a staircase that spiraled down. It was a narrow stairway, and as Sarain stepped down it she realized that it was taking her at least three flights down. She had already been on ground level back up in the alleyway, and she wondered if she was walking into some kind of underground cavern. Then she remembered the old gypsy woman telling her to wait until day, and knew that it couldn’t be taking her underground if the time of day had any effect on the place.
Sarain kept a hand on the wall as she traveled down as though waiting for something to happen. She finally stepped down from the last step and was amazed to see desert at the end of her journey. She looked to be in the middle of nowhere, and the landscape looked nothing like the town of Shaven’s. In fact, Shaven was nowhere in sight. Sarain saw only a rocky hillside that she knew she would have to climb, since the trail of Winston’s scent led her that way.
Sarain headed towards the rocks, and was careful with her footing. She looked up to the sky and saw that the stars had faded and the night sky had turned a dark blue; the sun was soon rising. Sarain made it to the top only to look down and see that she would have to climb down the other side, but she also saw houses along the base. There were just a few, all a distance away from one another and on either side of a dirt road, though the houses looked strange and almost cave-like; they were made of thick stones, and had no windows. Then Sarain realized why this place was hidden and why the gypsy woman had suggested only going there during the day; these were the residences of demons.
Sarain cautiously climbed down the rocky hillside, her footing slipped for a moment as a rock gave out underneath her weight, but her hands grabbed on to the hillside and she held herself up; the rocks digging into the palms of her hands. Her feet finally hit the bottom and Sarain quickly turned around. The sky was growing bluer, and a house caught Sarain’s eyes. It looked just like all the others, but the difference was that Winston’s scent was coming from it; he must currently be inside.
Sarain loudly called out Winston’s name as she approached his house, but she was still a ways away. She was just barely leaving the hillside, and still had to cross the wide dirt road, but it didn’t take long for him to come to the door. The door opened and a curious Winston peered out, but he stayed in his doorway, it was nearly dawn.
“What are you doing here?” he called out then quickly changed his tone to defensive when asking; “Did you follow me?” “No, it’s not like that,” Sarain immediately said, and she heard Winston muttered to himself, “I thought I covered my tracks.” Sarain explained, “I didn’t follow ‘you’, I followed your scent.”
Winston laughed and immediately stated, “Impossible, I don’t care how good of a hunter you are, no human can follow a scent that well… How long have you really been out here?”
Sarain opened her mouth to explain when a screeching sound caused her to turn around. She saw a gray skinned man flying at her with bat like wings and bright yellow eyes, and she realized how her stalker managed to disappear so quickly; he could fly. Before Sarain could react, the strange demon swooped down and grabbed her, lifting her into the air. Sarain heard Winston yell out her name from down below as she struggled in the air with the beast. It had a tight grip on her with its talon claws digging into her skin. She stared into its yellow eyes, and saw that though it had the body of a monster it still had the face of a man.
The creature returned Sarain’s gaze and said to her in almost an animalistic voice, “It looks as though the prodigal child has returned.” “Is that what this is? You’re trying to return me to my father?” Sarain demanded, but the beast gave her an evil glare and stated, “I don’t want him to ever find you!” Sarain looked at the creature confused and he smiled as he remarked, “Not all of the Sangre de Hermandad want to see you leading by your father’s side.” “The what?” Sarain muttered as she struggled with the beast.
She twisted and turned feeling her heart race and her body becoming unusually cold. The beast looked down at her and quickly stated, “That’s enough of that!” And he suddenly let her go. Sarain wasn’t sure if she had slipped out of its grip or if the thing had thrown her, but she quickly felt her body rushing toward the ground.
Sarain waited for the inevitable hard thud when landing on the rocks, but was surprised when her landing was cushioned, her breath not even getting knocked out of her. She looked up in a haze and saw Winston staring down at her, he had caught her. Sarain’s head was spinning, likely from her fast drop from a high altitude, and she saw that the sky looked gray. She gazed up at Winston, dizzily, and remarked, “You feel warm.” Winston laughed and said, “You must be cold.”
Suddenly and without warning, Sarain felt a surge of pain go through her body, and she jerked and began to convulse. Winston lost his hold on her, and Sarain went tumbling to the ground, her hair flipping over her face. He immediately went to her aid; he bent down and gently brushed the hair away from her face, and then suddenly gasped. Sarain’s violet eyes were illuminated and fangs were in her mouth. Winston cried out, “Who did this to you?”
Sarain did not answer, but continued to convulse. She heard in the distance a feminine voice call out, “Hurry! The sun is coming up.” Then she felt Winston lift her up and run as he carried her. She caught a glimpse of a sun ray coming near them, but lost the image and consciousness a moment later.
Sarain stared at Winston for a while, as he did her. His blond hair was longer than the last time she had seen him, but everything else about him looked the same. Except he wasn’t alone; on his arm was a young woman with fair skin and blond hair. The woman looked confused by Winston’s sudden reaction, but soon realized that he was staring at Sarain. After another hesitant moment went by, Winston finally walked towards Sarain, his companion in tow.
Sarain took a deep breath to prepare herself for what was about to happen as Winston approached her. He stopped clearly in front of Sarain, his face expressionless, and he asked in an emotionless tone, “What are you doing here?” She quickly replied, “I’m on business,” and then after a moment of silence, she added, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Winston gazed at Sarain for a moment while searching his thoughts, and she stood uneasy with the tension between them. Finally Winston spoke again and said with his voice a little softer, “It’s been a long time.” Sarain nodded in agreement, and replied, “About ten years, I think.” To Sarain’s surprise, Winston gave a slight smile, and said to her, “You haven’t aged a day.” It was a polite expression, but Sarain knew that his comment was likely to be true with the demon blood coursing through her veins. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and responded to Winston, “Neither have you, but then I guess that’s to be expected.”
Winston smiled again, this time a little fuller, in response to Sarain’s amusing remark. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted when Winston’s female companion cleared her throat. They both turned and looked at the blond, and then Winston finally thought to say, “Oh, this is Julianne.” She turned and looked at Sarain then stated, “I’m his girlfriend.”
Sarain quickly examined the woman, she noticed multiple bite marks on her neck, some of them old, and according to Sarain’s keen senses, she smelt human. She looked Julianne in the eye and then commented, “You must be his feeding companion.” Julianne looked a bit appalled by the statement, but Winston quickly remarked, “How astute of you.” Sarain shrugged and replied, “Not really, you always were one to pair up with a feeding companion over hunting… I did find you in the brothel after all.” The comment caught Julianne off guard, it was apparent that Winston hadn’t shared his whole history with the woman; in fact, she still stared at Sarain with a clueless expression as to who she was.
“I’m Sarain by the way,” she told Julianne, but the blond didn’t seem familiar with her name. Sarain didn’t really care if the girl knew who she was, she never expected for Winston to wait around pining for her, she had abandoned him after all. And with his age, odds were that she was only a small blip in his romantic life.
Sarain then turned to Winston, and said, “I should probably let the two of you go, I’m sure you are busy, and I have things to do myself.” She wanted to at least be respectful to Winston, but also felt strange standing there with him and with Julianne as well. He was a part of her past that she had never expected to see again, and looking at him made her feel guilty over how she had treated him. Winston himself seemed a bit awkward, but he nodded in agreement with Sarain, and then remarked, “It was nice seeing you.” Sarain knew it was another polite comment, but she felt as though he truly meant it; she believed that Winston wished her well.
Julianne took this moment as a cue to pull Winston away, and together the couple walked past Sarain. Sarain fought the urge to turn around and watch Winston leave; she didn’t see him peer over his shoulder as he walked away.
Sarain continued on with her shopping, she went from booth to booth, seeing many strange things. Some looked to be selling charms and potions, others sold ritual garbs, but not a single normal outfit could be found, and the only weapons Sarain saw were engraved, jeweled knives, none of which looked like they would hold up in a fight. Sarain neared the end of her shopping search when she noticed yet another person staring at her, but this one struck her as odd. It appeared to be a man in a hooded cloak, she was sure he was watching her, but she couldn’t quite make out his face. She tried not to be obvious about looking, but the man kept managing to keep his face hidden.
Sarain shrugged it off as another curious stranger, and started walking away. After about a minute of walking down the market alleyway, Sarain realized that the cloaked man was following her. She continued to walk as normal, and didn’t let on to the fact that she had spotted the man on her tail; there were still many others around, and she doubted the man would make a move on her with so many to witness.
She went to a booth and pretended to exam its items, she picked up a necklace, but as she did so, its pendant came loose and fell to the ground. Sarain bent down to pick it up, and in the moment she looked up she caught a strange feature of the man stalking her. She saw his eyes, his face was still hidden in his shadowy hood, but a flash of yellow gave away that her stalker wasn’t human. Sarain instantly thought of Sephor’s yellow eyes, but knew that it couldn’t be him, she had killed him herself. Whoever this creature was was new to Sarain, but he watched her as though he knew her.
Sarain placed the necklace and its pendant back on the table, and turned to leave. She knew that if a demon’s eye color was of a unique shade, then it usually meant it was stronger than a vil sang, and she was without a weapon. She hoped her training wouldn’t fail her. She quickly walked down the alley to its exit while trying to devise a plan. She debated waiting in the marketplace until dawn, which wasn’t too far away, but she herself didn’t want to get caught in the daylight. She thought of going back to her motel, but didn’t want the creature to track her scent, especially now that she could no longer setup barriers around her dwellings. And then she thought of Winston, he must live nearby to be out so close to dawn, perhaps she could track him to his home.
Suddenly something came to Sarain’s attention; she no longer heard footsteps behind her. She quickly turned around to see the cloaked man missing from the alleyway, and she wondered where he had gone, and if he was still following her. Sarain contemplated going back to her room, but knew that she wasn’t quite safe yet. But she also worried about inconveniencing Winston as well as she worried that she might complicate things for him if he wasn’t alone.
Sarain took a moment, and then decided to go back to the marketplace; she was going to find Winston. She realized that she might be leading this creature straight to him, but then she also knew that if this creature had been watching all this time, then it would have seen her talking to Winston; she had likely already dragged him into this mess.
Sarain entered back into the marketplace, and immediately headed straight to where she had encountered Winston. She didn’t want to draw more attention to herself than she already had with being an outsider, so she pretended to look at booths as she lightly sniffed for a scent; her years of training had unlocked some of her more demonic traits. She recognized the scent of Winston’s companion, Julianne, first; her human blood was more potent, and after a little more digging, Sarain caught a hint of a familiar scent, Winston. His smell brought back memories, and she remembered waking up next to him, covered in that scent. She was surprised that she hadn’t picked up on it sooner.
Sarain followed his fragrance down the alleyway, with it slowly growing stronger. It wavered from booth to booth, showing that he had stopped to shop at times, but it continued down the alley. Sarain followed the scent to a surprising stop; she stood looking at a dead end. The alleyway ended with a solid brick wall; multiple buildings met, blocking it in. It didn’t make sense to her, his trail led her there, and it didn’t seem as though he had doubled back; his scent was stronger there than anywhere else in the alleyway.
Sarain began to glance around, and then she decided to double back to the spot she had found Winston at and try again. His scent was getting weak by the time Sarain reached their encounter spot. Now she didn’t bother to conceal her actions she searched around, and began asking the vendors if they knew the man she was talking to earlier, but she was met with ignorance and blank stares. She knew these same people had blatantly stared at her earlier, but now that she addressed them, they wouldn’t meet her eyes.
She sighed in frustration as she started to head back to the dead end, when the eyes of an old gypsy woman caught her own. The elderly woman stared at her for a second, and then began to wave her over. Sarain approached the woman with caution, and the old lady whispered, “You are looking for your friend are you not?” Sarain nodded, and the woman continued to say, “He lives in Wormwood Alley.” The gypsy woman then pointed with a croaked finger back down the alleyway Sarain had come from, and muttered, “It lies that way.” Sarain looked at her confused and stated, “But that only leads to a dead end.”
The old woman shook her head, and whispered, “The bricks lie… Walk through them and you will find your way.” Sarain thought of the vil sang club the X that she had destroyed long ago, and how it had been made to have a glamour illusion to trick humans into not seeing it, perhaps this Wormwood Alley worked the same way, but fooled the eyes of demons and humans alike.
Sarain thanked the elderly woman and turned to leave, when the woman grabbed her by the arm. She then said to Sarain in a hoarse voice, “That isn’t a safe place for pretty girls like you, wait until dawn.” Sarain pulled her arm away and turned to the woman, saying, “I can handle myself.” The woman then reached into her robe and pulled out a rosary, “Take this,” Sarain stepped back as the gypsy tried handing it to her. The woman looked up into Sarain’s eyes, and immediately placed the rosary back into her robes. “Perhaps not,” she muttered to Sarain. The old woman gave Sarain a strange glance as she wandered away from her, and Sarain continued back down the alley.
She hurried to the alley’s dead end as quickly as she could for it was nearing dawn. When she reached it she stared at the walls trying to figure out which one was false, but they all looked real. She then extended her hands and felt the bricks; she dragged her fingers along their rough exteriors, and felt nothing abnormal about them. Then she lowered her reach and suddenly saw her hand go through brick; a small portion on the lower wall was an illusion.
Sarain bent down and crawled through the hidden opening, and found darkness on the other side. It was as though she had walked into a building; she glanced around and immediately found a staircase that spiraled down. It was a narrow stairway, and as Sarain stepped down it she realized that it was taking her at least three flights down. She had already been on ground level back up in the alleyway, and she wondered if she was walking into some kind of underground cavern. Then she remembered the old gypsy woman telling her to wait until day, and knew that it couldn’t be taking her underground if the time of day had any effect on the place.
Sarain kept a hand on the wall as she traveled down as though waiting for something to happen. She finally stepped down from the last step and was amazed to see desert at the end of her journey. She looked to be in the middle of nowhere, and the landscape looked nothing like the town of Shaven’s. In fact, Shaven was nowhere in sight. Sarain saw only a rocky hillside that she knew she would have to climb, since the trail of Winston’s scent led her that way.
Sarain headed towards the rocks, and was careful with her footing. She looked up to the sky and saw that the stars had faded and the night sky had turned a dark blue; the sun was soon rising. Sarain made it to the top only to look down and see that she would have to climb down the other side, but she also saw houses along the base. There were just a few, all a distance away from one another and on either side of a dirt road, though the houses looked strange and almost cave-like; they were made of thick stones, and had no windows. Then Sarain realized why this place was hidden and why the gypsy woman had suggested only going there during the day; these were the residences of demons.
Sarain cautiously climbed down the rocky hillside, her footing slipped for a moment as a rock gave out underneath her weight, but her hands grabbed on to the hillside and she held herself up; the rocks digging into the palms of her hands. Her feet finally hit the bottom and Sarain quickly turned around. The sky was growing bluer, and a house caught Sarain’s eyes. It looked just like all the others, but the difference was that Winston’s scent was coming from it; he must currently be inside.
Sarain loudly called out Winston’s name as she approached his house, but she was still a ways away. She was just barely leaving the hillside, and still had to cross the wide dirt road, but it didn’t take long for him to come to the door. The door opened and a curious Winston peered out, but he stayed in his doorway, it was nearly dawn.
“What are you doing here?” he called out then quickly changed his tone to defensive when asking; “Did you follow me?” “No, it’s not like that,” Sarain immediately said, and she heard Winston muttered to himself, “I thought I covered my tracks.” Sarain explained, “I didn’t follow ‘you’, I followed your scent.”
Winston laughed and immediately stated, “Impossible, I don’t care how good of a hunter you are, no human can follow a scent that well… How long have you really been out here?”
Sarain opened her mouth to explain when a screeching sound caused her to turn around. She saw a gray skinned man flying at her with bat like wings and bright yellow eyes, and she realized how her stalker managed to disappear so quickly; he could fly. Before Sarain could react, the strange demon swooped down and grabbed her, lifting her into the air. Sarain heard Winston yell out her name from down below as she struggled in the air with the beast. It had a tight grip on her with its talon claws digging into her skin. She stared into its yellow eyes, and saw that though it had the body of a monster it still had the face of a man.
The creature returned Sarain’s gaze and said to her in almost an animalistic voice, “It looks as though the prodigal child has returned.” “Is that what this is? You’re trying to return me to my father?” Sarain demanded, but the beast gave her an evil glare and stated, “I don’t want him to ever find you!” Sarain looked at the creature confused and he smiled as he remarked, “Not all of the Sangre de Hermandad want to see you leading by your father’s side.” “The what?” Sarain muttered as she struggled with the beast.
She twisted and turned feeling her heart race and her body becoming unusually cold. The beast looked down at her and quickly stated, “That’s enough of that!” And he suddenly let her go. Sarain wasn’t sure if she had slipped out of its grip or if the thing had thrown her, but she quickly felt her body rushing toward the ground.
Sarain waited for the inevitable hard thud when landing on the rocks, but was surprised when her landing was cushioned, her breath not even getting knocked out of her. She looked up in a haze and saw Winston staring down at her, he had caught her. Sarain’s head was spinning, likely from her fast drop from a high altitude, and she saw that the sky looked gray. She gazed up at Winston, dizzily, and remarked, “You feel warm.” Winston laughed and said, “You must be cold.”
Suddenly and without warning, Sarain felt a surge of pain go through her body, and she jerked and began to convulse. Winston lost his hold on her, and Sarain went tumbling to the ground, her hair flipping over her face. He immediately went to her aid; he bent down and gently brushed the hair away from her face, and then suddenly gasped. Sarain’s violet eyes were illuminated and fangs were in her mouth. Winston cried out, “Who did this to you?”
Sarain did not answer, but continued to convulse. She heard in the distance a feminine voice call out, “Hurry! The sun is coming up.” Then she felt Winston lift her up and run as he carried her. She caught a glimpse of a sun ray coming near them, but lost the image and consciousness a moment later.
Chapter 3
Sarain began to open her eyes slowly, she caught a glimpse of Winston holding up her arm, and he appeared to be cleaning the blood off her wounds. She felt the weight of many blankets on her, and realized that Winston must have tried to make her warm. She heard him say, “That’s strange,” and then a woman’s voice asked, “What?” He answered the woman, “Her wounds have already healed.” “Isn’t that normal with your kind?” the woman asked. “No, not like this. That’s too quick,” Winston replied.
Sarain grunted and began to lift her head, she saw Julianne in the room with them. Winston turned to Sarain and said, “No, don’t sit up, you need to lie down.” But Sarain didn’t comply; she sat up with a groan, and looked around the room. She was in Winston’s home, and it was dark, barely lit by candles.
She heard Winston ask again, “Who did this to you?” And without thinking she muttered, “No one.” “Was it a demon?” he asked ignoring her first answer, thinking she was still incoherent, “You healed faster than a normal vil sang.” Sarain groaned in frustration, and said again, “It was no one.” Sarain began to lift herself up to stand, but Winston immediately pushed her down, demanding, “No, you need to rest.”
Sarain swatted at his arm, and struggled to get up again, but this time Winston moved both his hands to her shoulders, and forced her down. “Stop being so stubborn!” he told her. Sarain then screeched and twisted underneath him, her head still pounding. She tried to knock him away, and she heard Julianne ask, “What’s wrong with her?” With a surge of energy, Sarain threw Winston back, and she jumped up and ran for the door. He quickly tackled her to the ground, grabbing her by the shirt. The sound of cloth ripping echoed out, and suddenly Winston hollered.
He looked to his arm to see an ankh shaped burn scar, and immediately said, “What the hell?” Winston then glanced at Sarain to see that beneath her shirt, now hanging out from the torn fabric, was the ankh she had always worn. He backed away from her while muttering, “How?”
A look of fear came over Sarain’s eyes and she turned to head for the door. Instantaneously, both Winston and Julianne call out, “No!” in hopes of stopping Sarain. Winston reached out to grab her, but missed. Sarain flung open the door and ran out into the sun. She looked back at Winston cowering inside his dark home as she stood safely in the sunlight, then she turned and ran away.
Julianne shut the door, and stared down at Winston with confusion, “I don’t understand, I thought she was like you.” Winston shook his head slowly still in shock and muttered, “No, she’s something else.”
Sarain’s burst of energy soon died down, and she dragged her way back to the Scarlet Motel. The sun was high by the time she reached it, and she was tired. With her all-night adventure and her long bus ride, the demonic seizure really wore Sarain out. She went to the large red bed, and collapsed upon it. She didn’t care how grimy it looked, she needed rest. She closed her eyes as she lay on her back, not daring to look up into the lewd mirror hanging above the bed. She couldn’t handle any more surprises; running into Winston was already more than she bargained for, and this new yellow eyed demon; not even in town for twenty-four hours and already someone wanted her dead. But it wasn’t this odd new type of demon that worried Sarain, it was the way Winston looked at her when he was caring over her, and it was the way she felt about it.
Sarain watched as the demons retreated, and realized that dawn was approaching. She climbed out of her crate and over the dead body of the demon she had just killed. She glanced over at her grandfather’s bones, and felt her stomach churn; she was only thirteen, but she was now alone in the world.
Sarain then turned her gaze to the body of her friend, Orran. He laid face down and she saw a small pool of blood forming around him. She looked down at her friend as her vision blurred with warm tears falling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Sarain stared down at him, the image burning into her mind. She shut her eyes and suddenly Sephor slashing Orran across the chest and biting his throat flashed into her head. Sarain then turned, bent down, and vomited on the ground. She wiped her mouth, and looked back at her friend, thinking, she would do anything for him to suddenly get up, but she knew that wasn’t possible.
It was then Sarain heard rustling coming from nearby, and her first thought was, the demons were coming back. It was close to dawn, but the sun wasn’t out yet. Sarain was lucky to have killed one beast, but she couldn’t fight an army. She only had one choice she could make, and that was to run. Sarain gave Orran’s body one last look, and felt sorry that she couldn’t give him a proper burial. Finally she turned away and ran across the field and into the woods; opposite from where she had seen the demons flee. She never turned around, and didn’t dare go back for Orran’s body.
It would be a long time before she would ever feel safe again, even in the sunlight.
Sarain woke to a dark room; she had slept the day away. She still felt tired, but her body felt better, stronger. She stretched and started to groan, but immediately shot up in bed when a figure caught her attention. Someone was sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes lit up in defense and her fangs began to descend when a voice suddenly said, “Stop!” And Sarain complied when she recognized the voice as Winston’s. His own eyes were glowing now, the same vibrant blue glow that she remembered from years ago. She wondered why she hadn’t recognized him right away, but realized that her eyes may be quick to adjust to the dark, but still took a while to adjust from sleep.
“You followed my scent?” Sarain asked. “Yes, and no, actually, there’s not many motels in town. Your scent had already faded during the day, but after checking the few motels around, I smelled your scent coming out from under your door,” Winston explained.
“Oh,” Sarain simply muttered, and clutched the blankets to her chest. Winston stared at her for a moment before saying, “Aren’t we going to talk about what happened back there?” Sarain sat in silence, avoiding his gaze, so Winston spoke again, asking, “Why did you run?” “I panicked,” Sarain mumbled. “Yeah, I got that… Why?” he continued to pry.
Sarain looked down and muttered, “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this… My life, it’s gotten complicated.” “Your life has always been complicated… But that’s never stopped me before,” Winston told her, and smiled. His expression then changed again and he looked solemn as he asked, “About the other thing… The seizure you had, does it happen often?” “From time to time,” she replied. “That’s what happens when your body is changing into a vil sang, it usually lasts for a few days. I’m surprised you can still wear that ankh and walk in the sun if your eyes and teeth are already changing,” Winston relayed, and then asked, “How long has it been happening?”
“Seven years,” Sarain answered. Winston’s eyes went wide, and he looked confused, so Sarain explained further, “I didn’t get infected by a demon if that’s what you think… I was born this way; it just took time to surface.” Winston was quiet for a minute, and then said, “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I believe you… Either way, this place isn’t safe for you.” Sarain sat and asked, “What, why not?”
Winston then gave her an odd stare as he said, “Really? Come on, I snuck in here while you were sleeping; anyone or anything can do that as well.” “And where do you suppose I stay?” Sarain asked sarcastically. “With me,” he answered. Sarain laughed then remarked, “I’m sure your girlfriend would love that!” Winston glared at her and stated, “I’m serious… Now you’ve already dragged me into this, the least you could do is let me help you.”
“Like your place is so much safer, I got attacked right outside it!” Sarain proclaimed. “Exactly,” Winston said in frustration, “And what if that thing comes back looking for you? Do you want me there all by my lonesome?” Sarain looked at him confused, “Wait; now you want me to protect you?” Winston sighed and said, “What I’m trying to say is that we work better as a team.” He stood up and continued, “It’s obvious that you’re going to need my help, that demon risked getting caught in the daylight to attack you,” Winston then extended a hand to Sarain, “Let me help you.”
Sarain thought it over, the demon had flown into the predawn to grab her, but Winston had also run out into it to save her. She looked up at him, and knew that if she could trust anyone that it was him.
Sarain took Winston’s hand and left with him.
Sarain began to open her eyes slowly, she caught a glimpse of Winston holding up her arm, and he appeared to be cleaning the blood off her wounds. She felt the weight of many blankets on her, and realized that Winston must have tried to make her warm. She heard him say, “That’s strange,” and then a woman’s voice asked, “What?” He answered the woman, “Her wounds have already healed.” “Isn’t that normal with your kind?” the woman asked. “No, not like this. That’s too quick,” Winston replied.
Sarain grunted and began to lift her head, she saw Julianne in the room with them. Winston turned to Sarain and said, “No, don’t sit up, you need to lie down.” But Sarain didn’t comply; she sat up with a groan, and looked around the room. She was in Winston’s home, and it was dark, barely lit by candles.
She heard Winston ask again, “Who did this to you?” And without thinking she muttered, “No one.” “Was it a demon?” he asked ignoring her first answer, thinking she was still incoherent, “You healed faster than a normal vil sang.” Sarain groaned in frustration, and said again, “It was no one.” Sarain began to lift herself up to stand, but Winston immediately pushed her down, demanding, “No, you need to rest.”
Sarain swatted at his arm, and struggled to get up again, but this time Winston moved both his hands to her shoulders, and forced her down. “Stop being so stubborn!” he told her. Sarain then screeched and twisted underneath him, her head still pounding. She tried to knock him away, and she heard Julianne ask, “What’s wrong with her?” With a surge of energy, Sarain threw Winston back, and she jumped up and ran for the door. He quickly tackled her to the ground, grabbing her by the shirt. The sound of cloth ripping echoed out, and suddenly Winston hollered.
He looked to his arm to see an ankh shaped burn scar, and immediately said, “What the hell?” Winston then glanced at Sarain to see that beneath her shirt, now hanging out from the torn fabric, was the ankh she had always worn. He backed away from her while muttering, “How?”
A look of fear came over Sarain’s eyes and she turned to head for the door. Instantaneously, both Winston and Julianne call out, “No!” in hopes of stopping Sarain. Winston reached out to grab her, but missed. Sarain flung open the door and ran out into the sun. She looked back at Winston cowering inside his dark home as she stood safely in the sunlight, then she turned and ran away.
Julianne shut the door, and stared down at Winston with confusion, “I don’t understand, I thought she was like you.” Winston shook his head slowly still in shock and muttered, “No, she’s something else.”
Sarain’s burst of energy soon died down, and she dragged her way back to the Scarlet Motel. The sun was high by the time she reached it, and she was tired. With her all-night adventure and her long bus ride, the demonic seizure really wore Sarain out. She went to the large red bed, and collapsed upon it. She didn’t care how grimy it looked, she needed rest. She closed her eyes as she lay on her back, not daring to look up into the lewd mirror hanging above the bed. She couldn’t handle any more surprises; running into Winston was already more than she bargained for, and this new yellow eyed demon; not even in town for twenty-four hours and already someone wanted her dead. But it wasn’t this odd new type of demon that worried Sarain, it was the way Winston looked at her when he was caring over her, and it was the way she felt about it.
Sarain watched as the demons retreated, and realized that dawn was approaching. She climbed out of her crate and over the dead body of the demon she had just killed. She glanced over at her grandfather’s bones, and felt her stomach churn; she was only thirteen, but she was now alone in the world.
Sarain then turned her gaze to the body of her friend, Orran. He laid face down and she saw a small pool of blood forming around him. She looked down at her friend as her vision blurred with warm tears falling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Sarain stared down at him, the image burning into her mind. She shut her eyes and suddenly Sephor slashing Orran across the chest and biting his throat flashed into her head. Sarain then turned, bent down, and vomited on the ground. She wiped her mouth, and looked back at her friend, thinking, she would do anything for him to suddenly get up, but she knew that wasn’t possible.
It was then Sarain heard rustling coming from nearby, and her first thought was, the demons were coming back. It was close to dawn, but the sun wasn’t out yet. Sarain was lucky to have killed one beast, but she couldn’t fight an army. She only had one choice she could make, and that was to run. Sarain gave Orran’s body one last look, and felt sorry that she couldn’t give him a proper burial. Finally she turned away and ran across the field and into the woods; opposite from where she had seen the demons flee. She never turned around, and didn’t dare go back for Orran’s body.
It would be a long time before she would ever feel safe again, even in the sunlight.
Sarain woke to a dark room; she had slept the day away. She still felt tired, but her body felt better, stronger. She stretched and started to groan, but immediately shot up in bed when a figure caught her attention. Someone was sitting on the edge of her bed. Her eyes lit up in defense and her fangs began to descend when a voice suddenly said, “Stop!” And Sarain complied when she recognized the voice as Winston’s. His own eyes were glowing now, the same vibrant blue glow that she remembered from years ago. She wondered why she hadn’t recognized him right away, but realized that her eyes may be quick to adjust to the dark, but still took a while to adjust from sleep.
“You followed my scent?” Sarain asked. “Yes, and no, actually, there’s not many motels in town. Your scent had already faded during the day, but after checking the few motels around, I smelled your scent coming out from under your door,” Winston explained.
“Oh,” Sarain simply muttered, and clutched the blankets to her chest. Winston stared at her for a moment before saying, “Aren’t we going to talk about what happened back there?” Sarain sat in silence, avoiding his gaze, so Winston spoke again, asking, “Why did you run?” “I panicked,” Sarain mumbled. “Yeah, I got that… Why?” he continued to pry.
Sarain looked down and muttered, “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this… My life, it’s gotten complicated.” “Your life has always been complicated… But that’s never stopped me before,” Winston told her, and smiled. His expression then changed again and he looked solemn as he asked, “About the other thing… The seizure you had, does it happen often?” “From time to time,” she replied. “That’s what happens when your body is changing into a vil sang, it usually lasts for a few days. I’m surprised you can still wear that ankh and walk in the sun if your eyes and teeth are already changing,” Winston relayed, and then asked, “How long has it been happening?”
“Seven years,” Sarain answered. Winston’s eyes went wide, and he looked confused, so Sarain explained further, “I didn’t get infected by a demon if that’s what you think… I was born this way; it just took time to surface.” Winston was quiet for a minute, and then said, “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I believe you… Either way, this place isn’t safe for you.” Sarain sat and asked, “What, why not?”
Winston then gave her an odd stare as he said, “Really? Come on, I snuck in here while you were sleeping; anyone or anything can do that as well.” “And where do you suppose I stay?” Sarain asked sarcastically. “With me,” he answered. Sarain laughed then remarked, “I’m sure your girlfriend would love that!” Winston glared at her and stated, “I’m serious… Now you’ve already dragged me into this, the least you could do is let me help you.”
“Like your place is so much safer, I got attacked right outside it!” Sarain proclaimed. “Exactly,” Winston said in frustration, “And what if that thing comes back looking for you? Do you want me there all by my lonesome?” Sarain looked at him confused, “Wait; now you want me to protect you?” Winston sighed and said, “What I’m trying to say is that we work better as a team.” He stood up and continued, “It’s obvious that you’re going to need my help, that demon risked getting caught in the daylight to attack you,” Winston then extended a hand to Sarain, “Let me help you.”
Sarain thought it over, the demon had flown into the predawn to grab her, but Winston had also run out into it to save her. She looked up at him, and knew that if she could trust anyone that it was him.
Sarain took Winston’s hand and left with him.
Buy the complete story at: