Page 37 of Little Fangs

“But why aren’t they coming out?” I finally asked, pressing a hand to my chest as the ache in me felt like a deep scratch.

“Only humans can leave,” she said. “We have a witch in that car. He’s contained them inside. Well, the vampires. The two remaining familiars, however, seem to have been trapped by the men I’d once thought of as sons.” She shook her head, tutting. “It won’t be long now until the work is done.”

“You were going to let him die?” Micah whispered, clinging to my arm.

“It’s an unfortunate situation, but fate had other plans for him, clearly,” she said, her words both cold and warm. “But it’s nice to see you’ve found yourself a familiar.”

“I’m not a—”

“We’re dating,” Micah said.

All eyes were on us now, and the house behind us was literal background noise.

“A dangerous game,” Ludmila said. “But he fought to live, so I assume he has the strength to be there for you.”

“He does,” Micah said, squeezing his hand in mine—a little stronger than expected. “And for what it’s worth, I think those guys deserved a fate worse than what you gave them.”

“They will get it.” Ludmila smiled in a sinister way, curved with a head tilt, letting the rim of the black hat cover most of her face. “They’ll come close to death in there, then they’ll be taken by the Council and imprisoned.”

I looked back at the house. The flames, while breaking the house apart, were contained, as if controlled—and that must’ve been what they were doing.

“What about Leroy and Sonya?” Micah asked.

“Unfortunately, humans don’t repair so well. I hope they live, I do, but they know that being a familiar forces them under the same laws of the Council. And if they survive, they’ll be taken too.”

“What would have happened to me?” I asked.

Ludmila laughed, throwing her head back. “I don’t even know you,” she said. “I can’t say. We wouldn’t have taken you—maybe left you out here on the lawn, hoping you would live.”

Her response numbed me. I glanced at Micah, wondering how he’d retained his humanity after all this time as a vampire. It must’ve been a complete miracle, considering the three others he’d been turned with.

“Can we leave?” I asked.

She pushed the gate open for us. “Now, if it’s all the same to you, you two were never here.”

Micah nodded, pushing me along toward the truck.

“And—” she started, pausing as I opened the car door. “I’m happy you found someone, Micah. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. I wish you a lifetime of happiness. And I’d be happy to offer an eternity, if you ever wish it.”

Her eyes were captivating, holding me in an entranced glare. Her words filled me with the strange fear I’d had about going further with Micah. I’d grow old, he’d stay the same. And eventually, we’d lose each other.

13. MICAH

I stared at Harlan’s face the entire drive back to the cabin. There was still smoke staining his skin from where he’d been sweating. I’d told him about Muriel and my things, and he apologized for going to the manor alone. I’d never wanted to see him harmed, and I wouldn’t have had the energy, even if I’d arrived to save him. I only been on blood bags and little sips from him—accidentally.

We sat in the truck together outside the cabin. Parked in the usual space at the dedicated spot a distance from the front door with a view inside. Muriel and Misty were both on the stoop, watching us.

“This thing,” he said, turning to me. He held my hand tight, then the second, collecting them together in the space over the middle seat. “This is probably the best thing that’s happened to me in years. But I—”

“No,” I said. “To whatever you’re about to say, I’m refusing it. You don’t know what the future is going to look like, so don’t even guess. In fact, don’t even think that far. I know what Ludmila said, and I’m not asking you to become a vampire for me.”

He nodded, slowly, his fingers squeezing as if they were his heart, beating. “The world is so big, and you’re free for the first time in your life,” he said. “Really free. Nobody chasing you. I’m not going to be the anchor that keeps you here.”

I couldn’t help smiling at him. He was cute but gruff with his facial hair smelling of smoke. “I’ve seen a lot of the world,” I said with a shrug. “But I haven’t—” It was getting serious, a stone now right where the words were trying to come out. “I haven’t ever loved anyone. And I—I might—I might—”

“You don’t have to say those words,” he said, rhythmically squeezing still. “I’ve had love, I’ve lost it, I’ve been heartbroken, and I’ve been—I’ve been soul-searching for someone.”

“I’m someone,” I said in a squeaky whisper. “And I’m not asking you to become like me. Ignore what Ludmila said.”