Cyril

I bit my wrist for the fifth time and watched the drops seep onto her tongue, her open mouth drooling, her body collapsed on the chair. The gap in her skull was no longer there, and I guessed the girls were hoping Loreen would be her old self again as they watched her in silence with red swollen eyes. But not even vampires could interfere with the laws of death, and not even my blood could undo the damage inflicted within.

"I think this is enough," I said as I pulled back my arm.

Penny grabbed my arm and pushed it back in its old spot. "Keep trying. It's working," she said in a raspy voice. "See, her eyes are opening sometimes."

Her eyes did open occasionally, which only confirmed what I had suspected the moment they had brought her in. Penny's sobs grew louder, and before I knew she had her arms clenched around my waist. I patted her on the back of her head with my free hand, slowly. From the corner of my eye I saw Torill gazing at me, I swallowed and tried not to meet her eyes.

"You didn't see anyone?" I asked with my eyes locked on Loreen. Penny's tears soaked my sweater vest, then my shirt, and then I felt the wetness on my chest.

"No," Farren said with a sigh, "Just the stones – countless stones – but not the coward who threw them."

My wound healed, and as I bit fresh holes I accidentally glanced at Torill. She was barely standing, leaning against the wall and taking heavy breaths, and I wished she would just go home and get some rest. Farren's magic was stronger, she was only fatigued, but Torill needed sleep to restore her energy.

"We'll find out who did it," I said, realizing it might be a false promise. "And Loreen will be fine."

And that was a lie. The ticking of the clock was a reminder I couldn't keep doing this forever. They were waiting for a miracle to present itself and Loreen to jump up, while I was waiting to gain enough courage to tell them Loreen would never jump again. "Are you girls hungry, or thirsty?"

"No," Penny snapped as she stepped back. "Just focus on Loreen."

Torill clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at Penny. "Don't take it out on him, Penny. He's doing everything he can."

"It's all right," I said with a faint smile.

Of course they weren't hungry and thirsty, grief had a way of destroying one's appetite, and I was a fool for asking it. Loreen and Penny had always been inseparable, just as Torill and Farren were, and Jasmin and Lily. As Penny stroked Loreen's blonde locks, I was having an inner battle with myself. You can't keep this up forever. Tell them, Cyril, it's not that hard. Just say the words: Loreen Fortier will never wake up again. Say it.

"Eh..." I scraped my throat and hung my arm. "Why don't you girls go home and get some rest?" Of course it was hard. If telling the truth was that easy, nobody would ever lie.

Penny shook her head and pursed her lips. "I'm not leaving. And you're not stopping."

And you're not in any position to order me around, I thought, but swallowed my words. This was a sad situation, and I had to push my friendly switch. I nodded with a slight smile and bit my wrist. As my blood dripped into her mouth, I asked myself how much longer I should keep stalling. Twenty. Twenty more times, and then it would be time to man up.

"Have any of you informed Henry or Demetra?" I asked with the eighth count.

"No," Penny said with a sniff. "There's no need for that, because Loreen will be home with them in a bit."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." I gave her a broken smile. "She'll be home."

In my defence, that wasn't really a lie. Eventually Loreen would be home, spending her days drooling, opening her eyes occasionally. I buried my fangs in my wrist for the sixteenth time. Eighteenth time. Twenty had come so soon.

As I looked at my wrist, I took a deep breath and took a step away from Loreen.

"What the hell are you doing?" Penny reached for my arm, and I grabbed her hand. "Cyril, what..."

"Sit down, Penny."

Penny wiped her eyes with rough strokes and shook her head. "Keep going. Cyril, I said..."

"And I said, sit down." I reminded myself of the friendly switch, but my lack of patience was now controlling that switch. "If you don't sit down, you can leave."

Lily gently took Penny's arm and led her to the couch. After they all sat down, I folded my arms, and watched their gazing eyes as I tried to fish for words that would ease their grief. But there weren't any.

"Are you girls all familiar with the term – vegetative state?"

Blank faces. It had to mean they were thinking. Their eyebrows wrinkled, now they were confused. I knew it was coming. Their lips parted, they started to realize. I braced myself. Their eyes widened, this had to be shock. I swallowed and narrowed my eyes. Gasps, screams, cries, their palms clasping their horrified faces. And there it was. I cringed as the unbearable sounds pierced deep into my brains.

"No." Penny ran to Loreen. "No, no. You're lying."

"I'm sorry. Loreen came in with severe brain damage and..." I swallowed and glanced at Torill. She pursed her lips and gave me a slight nod. "There's nothing I can do. This is as much alive as she'll ever be."

Jasmin wrapped her arms around Penny and sobbed along with her. Not all of them cried, I noticed. Farren's palms hid her eyes as she leaned on her elbows, I couldn't see if she was crying. Torill panted as she rocked back and forth, I guessed she was still trying to make sense of the situation. And Lily just trembled with her lips pursed. It was unbearable, their crying sounds, their fastened heartbeats, the salty smell of their desperation and fear, I felt like I was about to explode.

A gasping sound came from Penny as she abruptly turned to me. "Turn her."

"No." I shook my head and laughed. "No way."

"Do it." Penny grabbed my jaw. "Cyril? She's my best friend. You can't let her die like this."

I smacked her hand away. "It's not my decision to make, or yours."

Penny's moist eyes pierced into mine. "Do it." She rubbed her forehead and sniffed. "It's not like Loreen is capable to make that decision herself, is she?"

"Her aunt and uncle..."

"Henry and Demetra are discriminating idiots," Penny interrupted me. "Do you really think I'll let them keep Loreen as a vegetable, just because they hate vampires?"

I shook my head and took a step back from Penny. "When she's turned, she can't go home either. She'll need guidance. Henry and Demetra can't give her that."

"But you can," Penny reached for my hand and moved closer to me. "Please, Cyril."

I swallowed and glanced at the others. Torill's frown disappeared as we locked eyes and she nodded weakly, Farren pursed her lips and smiled, Jasmin nodded as she stroked Loreen's hair, and Lily walked towards Penny.

"Penny," she said as she took her arm. "Let's talk this over for a minute." Lily glanced at the group on the couch. "Guys?"

They nodded and disappeared into the hallway. A smile appeared on my face and I shook my head. If they had stayed here, it would have made no difference, I could hear them anywhere in the house. I went to the kitchen, poked a straw in a blood bag, and waited. The last vampire I had guided was Helena Rivero, and I could use her help with Loreen's transition, since it was obvious from their private conversation that they had all voted yes to Loreen becoming a vampire.

While drinking my fourth blood bag, they finally returned. Leaning on the counter, I raised my eyebrows and tried hard to look curious. "And?"

Penny smiled and balled her hands into fists, holding them near her chest. "We voted, and we want you to turn her."

No shit. Penny wasn't the brightest, but I had at least expected her to know that vampires had high lightened senses. "Really? Are you sure?" I took a sip of my blood bag and shrugged. "I mean, it's not something you can undo."

Penny nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Yes, Cyril, yes. A hundred percent sure. Loreen deserves to live."

"You are aware, us vampires are technically not alive? We are called the undead for a reason."

"Yes, yes and yes. We have discussed all of that already. We want you to turn her."

"All right." I threw the blood bag in the bin and straightened myself. "But keep Henry and Demetra off my back. Got it?" The girls nodded. "And don't come here in the next few weeks. Loreen won't be ready."

After they left, I wiped off Loreen's drool, called Helena to come tomorrow and dropped on my bed. As I closed my eyes, flashes of all the places I wanted to visit darted in front of my eyelids. A few times I had taken off, convinced the sun was overrated, convinced I could travel the world and start living. But the sun wasn't overrated. Temples closed when the sun went down, statues looked dull in the dark, and pyramids were just pointy mountains without the sun shining on them. Eventually I always came back, we all did, this was our safe zone, a home for the forsaken.

I heard the scratching sound of a key forcing itself into the lock, and smiled. I was glad I had come back, or I would have never had the chance to feel the happiness and love she gave me. A brief moment later Torill's head peaked through the door opening, I stretched my arm and lifted the blanket. Torill rushed next to me and laid her head on my chest. I pulled the blanket over her, her head leaning on my arm, and wrapped both my arms around her waist.

When I woke up, I inhaled her scent deeply; she smelled like raspberries, and brushed my lips against hers. Her eyes opened and she lunged over me, answering the brush with an intense kiss.

"Good morning," I muttered with my eyes closed.

Torill tucked her hand underneath my shirt and planted a kiss on my stubble cheek. "Morning."

As I kissed her, she pulled my shirt above my head, then took off her own. Her warm fingertips made soft, round strokes on my bare chest as her other hand slid into my hair. I leaped and kneaded my lower body against hers. "What love spell have you cast upon me, witch?" I planted soft kisses on her neck, then kissed her soft breast, then nibbled the pink, and buried my fangs in them. Finally I lowered and licked her belly button. A sensation swelled inside of me, a sensation I only felt with Torill, the witch I was addicted to.

Two hours later we lied panting, her cheek placed on my chest and her hands stroking my abdomen, and I noticed her expression was sullen. "What is it?" I asked as I stroked her locks.

Torill sniffed and rose, the sheet wrapped around her from her breasts down. "I hate this." With the last word, her voice pitched high and a tear rolled from her cheek. She turned her head away, trying to hide her tears as she always did. I lifted myself and wrapped my arms around her.

"I know," I said as I pressed my lips against the back of her head. "I hate it too."

Torill buried her face in the sheet and took a few deep breaths. I wanted to tell her it was okay to cry, that she didn't have to force herself to stop. But she would punch me for saying that.

"Three years, Cyril," Torill sniffed, her head turned against the wall. "Three fucking years, and we're still sneaking around."

"I know Torill." I pulled away from her and sighed. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

The sheet slightly dropped, showing the line of her spine, and I couldn't help but plant a soft kiss on her ivory spine.

Torill turned around, her eyes slightly red, and smiled. "I want you to take me to the park, where we will feed the ducks and hold hands. And I want you to take me to the beach, where I can wrap my legs around you in the sea. And I want you to eventually meet me at the end of the aisle, where we will bind our love and live a happily ever after."

My fingers disappeared in her hair as I pulled her face towards mine. "And you know I'll do it – all of it." I kissed her upper lip and leaned my chin on her head. "But it's you who's afraid of what people will say, not me."

Once every few months Torill would get emotional, and every time we would have this same conversation, and every time it would lead to nothing. Two different species dating was a scandal in this town, a catastrophe. Hours had passed with neither of us saying a word, when the doorbell rang.

"Who's that?" Torill asked, frowning.

I reached for my boxers and leapt out of bed. "Helena," I said as I buttoned my jeans.

Torill gasped and jerked me forward by the loop of my jeans. "What?"

If I still had a beating heart, it would now be pounding. Torill often turned scary, but when it came to jealousy some monster appeared. A very cute monster. My thumb stroked her lips. "I called her to help me with Loreen. I can use all the help I can get."

"Oh, please. Helena and helping, you must be fucking joking." Torill pulled her shirt over her head and gazed at me with narrowed eyes. "Keep your distance from her. I mean it, Cyril. At least three feet."

That afternoon, Helena leaned over Loreen's slumped body with squinted eyes, her pale face with a pair of artificial blushes – vampires didn't blush – and her lips painted red. I found it amusing how she always tried to look twice her age.

"I've never seen this before. Vegetable." Helena wrinkled her nose. "It's pretty funny."

"Have some respect, Helena."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

Helena was only fifteen when she was turned, and she never saw who did it to her. The Ordinance had agreed to let her live, because she wasn't a resident and didn't know of our laws.

It was always my responsibility to guide the new vampires. I had never guided a teen vampire before, and I prayed to whatever spirit watched over the forsaken that I'd never have to again. Vampires didn't age, even if we were five hundred years old, we would always be the age of the day we were turned. Our brain didn't develop anymore, our body stayed the same, we didn't have birthdays, we were frozen in time. Helena would always be a fifteen year old teenager, no matter how many centuries passed. Being a vampire meant you were robbed of the cycle of life, and robbed of birthdays.

Helena stepped in front of me, as her eyes locked with mine she smiled and fumbled with the collar of my shirt. "I missed you." She tilted her head and pouted her lips. "Did you miss me?"

Sometimes I felt sorry for her. She would never have a chance to date someone of her own age, nor find love with any of the other vampires. Nobody wanted an unstable teenage vampire as their companion.

"Yeah. I missed you too, Helena." I stepped back. "Are you hungry?"

A frown appeared on her face. "No, Cyril. I'm not hungry. Why did you call me here? Moral support?"

"I called you here so you can help me restrain Loreen. And maybe stay here to help me teach her our ways. She'll be out of control once she's turned, just like you were."

Helena grinned and pushed her bosom up. "Right. That means we'll have an extended sleepover?"

I pursed my lips and nodded. There were seven bedrooms in my house, and I hoped Helena wouldn't get crazy enough to come into my bedroom and sneak into my bed, like she had once done at the time I was guiding her. Over the decades, hundreds of newly turned vampires had lived in my house until they were ready to live on their own, but Helena had by far been the biggest challenge.

"Yay." Helena lifted her shoulders and clapped. "We're gonna have so much fun."

My fingers squeezed my lips and I tried not to freak out. Two she-vamps in my house, one an annoying teenager and the other an arrogant, conceited witch. This would be far from fun. I wondered how I was going to make it through without staking myself.

I waited until the sun had gone down, and took my hematite knife from the drawer. My dear mother had made this knife for me when I was a boy. As her face flashed in front of my eyes, I stroked the smooth blade and let my fingers slide over its textured black handle. For protection she had said, something to pass along to your own sons she had added. If only she had known I would still be holding the knife two centuries later.

I laid Loreen on my dining table. I couldn't eat, but Torill could, and I enjoyed watching her eat. Loreen's eyes were closed this time, her mouth open and drooling, and she took soft deep breaths.

"Hold her head still," I ordered.

Helena clasped the sides of Loreen's head and grinned at me with eager eyes. When I was still human, I had a dog, a tall bastard breed with shaggy fur. I had named her Lisanna. Helena's current excitement reminded me of Lisanna's when I would feed her leftovers or throw her a bone.

When I placed the blade against Loreen's throat, Helena gasped. "Are you cutting her throat?"

"Why else would I put a knife against her throat?"

Helena pulled her hands away and frowned. "Why?"

Torill was right, Helena was going to be as much help as the statues of the Reverie would have been. I grabbed Loreen by her hair – she didn't feel or see it anyway – and pulled the knife through her flesh. Lines of blood sprayed on my face. I heard Helena scream and wished I had never called her. I grabbed a pillow from the couch, moved Loreen's head neatly in place and laid the pillow below her head. Only a thin red line was now visible in her neck, along with the shimmering blood.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Helena screamed through her fingers clasped on her mouth.

"Because..." I tried to wipe off my face with my palm, but the blood kept dripping off my jaw onto my neck and shirt. "Once the cut starts to heal, I will know that she's transforming. Judging from the healed parts of the wound, I can see how much time there's left until she wakes."

Helena relaxed her shoulders. "Oh, I see. It's like measuring."

"Yes," I said with a smile. "Like measuring."

She held her thumbs up and grinned. "Got it."

The next day I was surprised to see that Loreen's wound had almost healed, half of the cut had turned into a pink crust. It was supposed to cover only one third. I knew it wouldn't take the usual two nights for her to wake up. Loreen's transformation would be complete by the time the night fell.

Helena and I decided to kill time by playing racing games on the PlayStation, card games and finally chess. As I moved the white queen, a smile curled up on my face. I started as a pawn. Me and hundreds of other men. A Lord had promised me protection in return of being part of his army, he'd keep me safe as long as I fought in his army. If only I'd known I sold my soul to the devil. Once I had awoken a hunger dominated me, and as I followed my instincts every ounce of my mercy and morals went to sleep. Needless to say, the Lord had won his war. I had merely been a pawn to protect the queen, just a man in the horde to serve as a lethal bulletproof wall. After the battle, they hunted the vampires down to get rid of the evidence, but many of us managed to escape. Me and Elias Mega were both soldiers in the horde. Eventually our journey ended in Chrim.

To this day not much has changed. I'm still a soldier with no identity.

The sudden sound of a deep, indrawn breath startled me. Loreen slowly rose up, panting, and glanced around with thick black veins in the white of her manic eyes. She opened her mouth, a pair of fangs slowly dropped down, and Loreen yelped. The first time our fangs dropped, it always hurt. She licked the sharp edges of her fangs. I approached her slowly, in my hand a blood bag with a straw.

"Loreen?"

Her head turned slowly to mine, upon seeing me she clenched her jaw and grunted. I took a few more steps, holding the blood bag into her direction. "Drink this."

Loreen hopped off the table, her eyes piercing into mine, and cracked her neck. With a thundering groan she launched at me, and before I had the chance to jump away her teeth were buried deep into my neck.