Sonia made her way through the trees. She wanted in. The darkness of the courthouse called to her, the promise of quiet serenity inside.
She found a door behind a grove of trees almost instantly. She only hesitated for a moment. The door was probably locked or under some sort of stupid spell done by some fucking witch. Of all the supernatural species she’d come across in the Square, witches were by far her least favorite. They were annoying. Constantly doing some sort of lame curse or prattling on about this or that, trying to tell everyone the future and looking for hidden meaning in all sorts of dumb places.
The first one Sonia had met had been a girl about her own age, midtwenties or maybe a little older. She’d taken one look at Sonia and had started carrying on about injustice, pain, loss, future vengeance, lost souls, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. She’d cast some pathetic spell that had shot an electrical current through Sonia when she’d bitten her. Sonia had pulled free, her fangs throbbing, a deep ache coursing through her gums. With a quick flick of her wrists, Sonia had broken the witch’s neck, then dropped her to the ground, her cliché witch gown billowing around her. Sonia considered drinking her dry just for sport, but had walked away, leaving her to be discovered in a heap by someone else. Interfering bitch.
To her surprise, not only was the door not under any spell, but it was unlocked. She turned the handle, opened the door, and walked into the darkness before closing the door behind her.
All the bustle of the Square faded, instantly blocked—maybe by the thickness of the marble, maybe by a spell. Surely there had to be something useful witches had to offer.
She looked around in the gloom. Being a creature of the night, moonlight was nearly as bright as day. Even in this pitch dark, Sonia could see in varying shades of black and gray. She was in a hallway. The marble theme continued, covering the walls, floor, and ceiling, making the place feel like a stone tube. There were two doors on the right, both with metal signs jutting out from above the door. Restrooms. The opposite wall only had one door, and the end of the hallway gave way to a rising staircase.
Sonia walked slowly toward the door on the left, her fingers tracing a swirling path on the cold wall. Stepping forward, she turned the door handle. Locked.
She glanced around to see if anyone was coming, then chided herself. “What the hell are you doing, moron? You’re a vampire, and you’re worried about a little breaking and entering?”
With a sharp twist, the inner organs of the handle shattered, and she pushed the door open.
She stuck her head through and paused. “Thrilling. Well worth the effort.” She gave an eye roll and glanced once more around the large room. Cleaning supplies and a huge assortment of essentials filled the shelves that lined every inch of the walls. “Witches really are worthless if this place has to be cleaned by a maid service.” With a frustrated sigh, she pulled the door shut. A little too hard, as the tortured door handle fell off in her hand. She gave it a condemning glance and let it fall to the floor, the brass clanging in protesting sharpness in the quiet as it crashed and bounced over the marble floor.
Leaving the supply closet, if the gigantic room could be called a closet, she made her way toward the stairs. She passed the men’s restroom on her way and then paused as she walked toward the ladies’ room.
A restroom. A restroom would have a mirror. The thought pulsed through her mind like a compulsion. She’d intentionally stayed away from looking in mirrors since her change. She’d caught the random reflection in windows and had even glanced at mirrors without meaning to when she broke into a home in search of food, but instantly averted her eyes. Now she wanted to see. She needed to see.
The door started to swing in at her push, but she quickly pulled her hand back and stepped away. Glancing once more at the door, she gave her head a shake and continued toward the stairs.
Her foot was on the first of the curved marble steps, her hand on the ornately sweeping brass banister, when she paused. She looked over her shoulder at the bathroom door. She returned her gaze to the stairs and took another step, then stopped once more.
She let out a sigh. “Oh, fuck it!” She turned, descended the two steps, and returned to the bathroom door, then shoved it open before she could change her mind. In the same manner, she took five steps over to the row of sinks, gripped the rounded edge of the marble countertop, and looked up.
Her image held her captive. After a few moments, she leaned closer, hair falling over her shoulders and pooling on the countertop. She was more beautiful. A truer essence, an orchid perfected. Even so, she looked mostly the same. It was not what she expected. She’d thought she would see a huge, noticeable difference, like a person who received extensive plastic surgery. It only made sense that her appearance would alter a comparable amount to how she’d been changed inside. But no. Long black hair. Healthier, sure, but the same old thing. Same full, pouting lips—save for the fangs showing through the snarled curve. Same petite frame, same ample curves. Funny, she thought she’d be taller or at least stronger-looking. She felt like a grizzly bear. It was a bit unnerving feeling such power and only seeing a five-foot-three-inch woman who looked better suited for a swimsuit competition than a cage-fighting match.
Same everything. Same violet eyes. No, wait a moment. No, those weren’t the same. More crystalline than before, more stonelike, more… She leaned closer still to the mirror, face less than an inch away. Yes, there it was. There was the change. There was the grizzly. She’d never seen eyes like these in the mirror before. She’d never seen eyes like these anywhere. But yet, there was something familiar in them. Not her color, but something else there. Something that belonged to someone else. The tanzanite orbs bulged, and the dark pupils contracted to pinheads in the reflection. With a cry she pushed herself from the mirror. She shoved so hard the marble sink cracked and her body flew backward, slamming into the opposite wall—marble once again splintering and chipping off around her as she slid in a heap to the floor.
For the first time since the day she’d been changed, she let out a sob. When it reached her ears, the dam broke and torrents rushed over her, reducing her to seizure-like convulsions.
They werehiseyes. The eyes of the monster that had stolen her life. They were in her face. In her skull.
In a frenzy, she ripped at her face, nails sinking in as easily as fangs at her brow and then tearing down over her eyes and across her cheeks. Again and again she tore, desperate to extricate the vile perpetrators from her body. She tore until her cheeks were shredded, blood drenching her T-shirt and white miniskirt that had hiked up to her waist. She could feel her nature engaging itself under her onslaught. It only made her slash with greater fervor. As she ripped, tears coursed from her offending orbs and caused her nails to slip as she tore. With each slash, her skin mended as quickly as it was pierced.
Sonia screamed. Screamed to rival the wind and call judgment upon the earth. Screamed until whatever humanity had been left in her soul locked itself away to never be unearthed.
Trembling, she let her head descend and take shelter in her slender arms, the marble floor cool against her healed cheeks.
The violet reflection in her mind morphed to green, and his eyes were on her once more.
She’dbeen making a smoked turkey and Gouda sandwich in the kitchen when the knock interrupted her. She’d taken an indulgent lick of mayonnaise off the knife before she laid it on the counter, then wiped her fingers on her extra-large T-shirt—it had belonged to her high school ex-boyfriend, and there was nothing better to sleep in.
“Brett? Back already? Did you lose your keys?” Sonia turned the corner from the kitchen and closed the few feet to the front door. “Hope you have that hot Latin lover boy with you. He is something. I’d like to—”
Sonia’s words stuck in her throat when those green eyes met hers as she opened the door. She didn’t even have a chance to see the rest of him, the eyes telling her everything she needed to know. She shoved the door back the few inches to the doorframe, but his fingers curled around the door, stopping it. Sweat instantaneously broke out over her brow; she felt a drip travel down her spine. Even with her shoving with every ounce of her strength, the man pushed the door open farther and stepped in beside her.
She spun, feet taking flight. She wheeled to the right, into the living room, a loud crash sounding behind her. A redheaded man was pulling his hand out of the wall. His skin looked strangely grayish, as if he’d been burnt. He’d nearly caught her as she turned but had sent his fist into the drywall a moment too late.
He turned to her once more, shaking the dust off his fist. It was then, as his thin, crooked lips curved into a leer, that she saw the fangs.
She didn’t pause to consider. Didn’t wonder if they were real, if he was the vampire he appeared to be. The eyes scared her more than the fangs ever could. Sonia scanned the room. The man was blocking the hallway that led to the door, but to her right, past the kitchen table, the sliding glass doors glistened in the night. She just had to get through them. Once outside, she could scream. Run to a house. Someone would hear her. Someone would help.
He took a step forward and brought her attention back to him. On instinct, she grabbed the floor lamp to her right and swung. The man ducked easily enough, but she swung again. This time, as the lamp arced toward his head, his hand flashed out, stopped it midflight, and gave it a tiny yank.
