Connects with: The Libelle Papers & Tragic Silence
Wings of the Dragonfly © October 2020 E. C. Hibbs
London, England
September 2004
There was too much going on in the hall. An aimless wave of noise from fanfare and hushed conversations; detail and movement everywhere among the black sea of robes and caps. And then there was the worst thing: the light. It streamed in from high windows, reflected off the metal in the chairs, drove through my eyeballs like needles. Of course, out of all the people graduating, I’d ended up sitting directly in a sunbeam.
I hid my hands under the programme before the rash had a chance to form. That was easy enough. Now I just needed to hope it wouldn’t break out on my face.
Eventually, my turn arrived. I joined the line at the side of the stage, and quickly touched my cap to make sure it was straight. There was a photographer hovering near the front row. Mum and Dad would kill me if I looked scruffy.
“Frank Anthony!”
I took a deep breath, and walked onto the stage. The platform was only four metres long, but it felt like a mile, with all the attention on me; the sudden terror that I’d fall over my own feet. But I managed it, reached the Vice Chancellor, shook his hand and grasped my diploma.
As I touched him, I smelled his blood. I’d only drank the week prior, so I knew I didn’t need any, but the scent never went away. Not now I was a full vampire.
I descended the steps and headed back to my seat, scanning the audience as I went. Half were dressed in robes like me, but behind them were all the guests, in freshly-pressed suits and smart blazers. Among them, I spotted my parents, and at their side, Hanna. She locked eyes with me, smiled, and gave a nod.
The ceremony dragged on for another hour before we were finally able to leave. Everyone walked out into the crisp autumn day, took off our caps and hurled them as high as we could. I’d no sooner fetched mine when Hanna found me. I wasn’t surprised. She could have sniffed me out from streets away. She’d done it before.
Mum and Dad hailed a taxi, and the four of us made our way to a restaurant in Soho. I would have preferred to just go home and relax, but they insisted I couldn’t complete three years of university without letting them treat me to a meal. Nevertheless, I was relieved when we were seated in a booth against the furthest wall, rather than right in the centre of the place. The light was a little dimmer there; easier on my eyes. I could tell Hanna was glad for it, too. Like mine, her pupils were huge: constantly more dilated than they needed to be.
“Look at you,” Dad chuckled. “Frank Anthony, B.A. It’s got a nice ring to it.”
“B.A. in cartoon nerdology,” Hanna quipped.
“Film history,” I said.
“That’s essentially the same thing, and you know it.” She dug an elbow into my arm, then raised her wine. “Prost!”
We all tapped our glasses together. It felt wonderful to be speaking German again. It was my first language, even though I was English through and through. No matter that I’d spent the last half of my life here in London, we still slipped into it from time to time, especially around Hanna.
The two of us had been best friends ever since we were kids, and our bond only grew when I’d returned to our hometown when I was seventeen, and ran into her again. But nobody knew the details of that. Nobody would have believed it, anyway.
Then I realised her hand was shaking. It was too small a movement for humans to spot, but my eyes were more acute than my parents’.
“What’s the matter?” I whispered, barely audible.
“I’ll tell you later,” she breathed back.
“So, what’s the next plan?” Dad asked. “Are you going to look into jobs in film museums? There’s that one in Frankfurt, if you wanted to go back to Germany.”
I shook my head. “Nein, I’m not too keen on the idea of Frankfurt.”
“Well, there’s another in Covent Garden.”
“Actually, I think I’ll stay where I am, at the Museum of London.”
“I thought that was only a summer job,” frowned Dad.
“It was,” I said. “But a few weeks ago, my manager said there’s a full-time opportunity for me. I’d be silly not to take it. If anything else comes up in the future, then I’ll just move on.”
Mum nodded approvingly. “That sounds like a smart choice. And Hanna, you’re next, aren’t you? When does your new course start?”
“In five weeks,” said Hanna, with such perfect poise that I almost doubted I’d noticed anything amiss. “I know it’s crazy. I only just managed to finish my masters, and now I’ve got to keep it together for a PhD?”
“I don’t know why you’re worrying,” Dad said. “You’re smart enough. It’s those Bernstein genes.”
“Ja, imagine that.” Mum gestured in the air. “Doktor Hanna Bernstein. Now that has a nice ring to it!”
Hanna smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She whipped off her glasses and made a show of cleaning them on a napkin.
A waitress arrived to take our order. True to form, Hanna and I both asked for steak with asparagus: iron-heavy, and rare enough for the blood to come through a little. I wasn’t too fond of the texture of meat, but it was one of the smaller prices to pay for existing the way we did.
Hanna had saved my life, in more ways than one. And I’d saved hers. Now, we were equal. Her venom ran in my veins, and would do for the rest of my life. She had made me a vampire.
When we’d finished eating, Mum and Dad took themselves outside for a cigarette. I immediately turned to Hanna.
“Alright, come on. Tell me.”
She let out a sigh from the depths of her lungs. “I’ve got to go back to Germany.”
I stared at her. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that wasn’t among them.
“Why?”
“My cousin’s had a baby,” said Hanna. “She wants me there for the christening. Apparently, I’m going to be a godmother.”
She didn’t try to disguise the unease in her voice. The last time either of us had been in Germany, we’d almost died. As far as I knew, there were two demonic vampires still roaming the country, who wouldn’t take kindly to seeing us again. One was an old friend of mine. He had given in to a darker streak, and was now condemned to walk through the night forever.
I licked my lips nervously. “Do you… really think that’s a good idea?”
“I’m not sure,” Hanna admitted. “But, on the other hand, it’s been five years. What are the chances of it still being dangerous?”
“You’re the one who knows the most about this stuff,” I said. “What if they’re still looking for you?”
Hanna ran a hand through her hair and swept it over her shoulder.
“I’d like to think they’ll have found better ways to occupy their time. I’ll book into a hotel on the Swiss side, and just cross the border in the daytime, to see Abigail. A week should be long enough to keep up appearances.”
I nodded. As well as being unable to move in sunlight, demons couldn’t leave their country of origin. It was different for Hanna and me: the light was a painful hindrance, but not deadly. Sticking to Switzerland was a safe plan. But my stomach still twisted with anxiety as I thought of what we had run away from; what she was walking straight back into.
1999. That summer and autumn I’d spent as her juvenile had been the greatest, yet darkest time I’d ever known. She had transformed my life in order to save it, as I lay helpless in the emergency room. Then we had fled across the border and she had taught me everything she knew, even with the full intention of turning me back as soon as she could.
But, even by juvenile period standards, that time had hardly been ordinary. Demons around every corner, waiting, watching. Towards the end, every breath I’d taken was laced with the icy edge of fear. I’d tried to play my cards as close to my chest as I could, to make the situation easier for Hanna, but I would have been stupid to not be afraid.
And I didn’t care that she would only be in Germany for seven days, or that she was twenty-eight and more than capable of looking after herself. Five years might have passed, but five years were also nothing to demons.
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
Hanna shot me a glance. “Nein, it’s fine. Stay here and rest. You’ve earned it.”
“I can rest there,” I insisted. “Anyway, it would be nice to celebrate by seeing Donaueschingen again. And who else are either of us going to talk to?”
“There are such things as phones, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. I don’t mind not going to the christening. I just want to get out of London for a while. And I don’t know when I’ll next have a chance to go back, if I’ll be working full-time at the end of the month.”
Hanna took another sip of her wine. “Oh, alright. It’s not as though you’re a kid anymore. I can’t just order you about.”
“As if I ever listened,” I smiled.
A few minutes later, Mum and Dad returned, and we began combing through the dessert menu.
I glanced at my wrist as I turned the pages. Just above the edge of my cuff was the top of a thin scar, directly over my vein. After she’d turned me, Hanna had bitten me there to make me a full vampire. That was yet another thing she hadn’t intended on me wanting to stick around for. But it had been worth it. I couldn’t have dealt with never being able to fly again.
I hid my hands under the programme before the rash had a chance to form. That was easy enough. Now I just needed to hope it wouldn’t break out on my face.
Eventually, my turn arrived. I joined the line at the side of the stage, and quickly touched my cap to make sure it was straight. There was a photographer hovering near the front row. Mum and Dad would kill me if I looked scruffy.
“Frank Anthony!”
I took a deep breath, and walked onto the stage. The platform was only four metres long, but it felt like a mile, with all the attention on me; the sudden terror that I’d fall over my own feet. But I managed it, reached the Vice Chancellor, shook his hand and grasped my diploma.
As I touched him, I smelled his blood. I’d only drank the week prior, so I knew I didn’t need any, but the scent never went away. Not now I was a full vampire.
I descended the steps and headed back to my seat, scanning the audience as I went. Half were dressed in robes like me, but behind them were all the guests, in freshly-pressed suits and smart blazers. Among them, I spotted my parents, and at their side, Hanna. She locked eyes with me, smiled, and gave a nod.
The ceremony dragged on for another hour before we were finally able to leave. Everyone walked out into the crisp autumn day, took off our caps and hurled them as high as we could. I’d no sooner fetched mine when Hanna found me. I wasn’t surprised. She could have sniffed me out from streets away. She’d done it before.
Mum and Dad hailed a taxi, and the four of us made our way to a restaurant in Soho. I would have preferred to just go home and relax, but they insisted I couldn’t complete three years of university without letting them treat me to a meal. Nevertheless, I was relieved when we were seated in a booth against the furthest wall, rather than right in the centre of the place. The light was a little dimmer there; easier on my eyes. I could tell Hanna was glad for it, too. Like mine, her pupils were huge: constantly more dilated than they needed to be.
“Look at you,” Dad chuckled. “Frank Anthony, B.A. It’s got a nice ring to it.”
“B.A. in cartoon nerdology,” Hanna quipped.
“Film history,” I said.
“That’s essentially the same thing, and you know it.” She dug an elbow into my arm, then raised her wine. “Prost!”
We all tapped our glasses together. It felt wonderful to be speaking German again. It was my first language, even though I was English through and through. No matter that I’d spent the last half of my life here in London, we still slipped into it from time to time, especially around Hanna.
The two of us had been best friends ever since we were kids, and our bond only grew when I’d returned to our hometown when I was seventeen, and ran into her again. But nobody knew the details of that. Nobody would have believed it, anyway.
Then I realised her hand was shaking. It was too small a movement for humans to spot, but my eyes were more acute than my parents’.
“What’s the matter?” I whispered, barely audible.
“I’ll tell you later,” she breathed back.
“So, what’s the next plan?” Dad asked. “Are you going to look into jobs in film museums? There’s that one in Frankfurt, if you wanted to go back to Germany.”
I shook my head. “Nein, I’m not too keen on the idea of Frankfurt.”
“Well, there’s another in Covent Garden.”
“Actually, I think I’ll stay where I am, at the Museum of London.”
“I thought that was only a summer job,” frowned Dad.
“It was,” I said. “But a few weeks ago, my manager said there’s a full-time opportunity for me. I’d be silly not to take it. If anything else comes up in the future, then I’ll just move on.”
Mum nodded approvingly. “That sounds like a smart choice. And Hanna, you’re next, aren’t you? When does your new course start?”
“In five weeks,” said Hanna, with such perfect poise that I almost doubted I’d noticed anything amiss. “I know it’s crazy. I only just managed to finish my masters, and now I’ve got to keep it together for a PhD?”
“I don’t know why you’re worrying,” Dad said. “You’re smart enough. It’s those Bernstein genes.”
“Ja, imagine that.” Mum gestured in the air. “Doktor Hanna Bernstein. Now that has a nice ring to it!”
Hanna smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She whipped off her glasses and made a show of cleaning them on a napkin.
A waitress arrived to take our order. True to form, Hanna and I both asked for steak with asparagus: iron-heavy, and rare enough for the blood to come through a little. I wasn’t too fond of the texture of meat, but it was one of the smaller prices to pay for existing the way we did.
Hanna had saved my life, in more ways than one. And I’d saved hers. Now, we were equal. Her venom ran in my veins, and would do for the rest of my life. She had made me a vampire.
When we’d finished eating, Mum and Dad took themselves outside for a cigarette. I immediately turned to Hanna.
“Alright, come on. Tell me.”
She let out a sigh from the depths of her lungs. “I’ve got to go back to Germany.”
I stared at her. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that wasn’t among them.
“Why?”
“My cousin’s had a baby,” said Hanna. “She wants me there for the christening. Apparently, I’m going to be a godmother.”
She didn’t try to disguise the unease in her voice. The last time either of us had been in Germany, we’d almost died. As far as I knew, there were two demonic vampires still roaming the country, who wouldn’t take kindly to seeing us again. One was an old friend of mine. He had given in to a darker streak, and was now condemned to walk through the night forever.
I licked my lips nervously. “Do you… really think that’s a good idea?”
“I’m not sure,” Hanna admitted. “But, on the other hand, it’s been five years. What are the chances of it still being dangerous?”
“You’re the one who knows the most about this stuff,” I said. “What if they’re still looking for you?”
Hanna ran a hand through her hair and swept it over her shoulder.
“I’d like to think they’ll have found better ways to occupy their time. I’ll book into a hotel on the Swiss side, and just cross the border in the daytime, to see Abigail. A week should be long enough to keep up appearances.”
I nodded. As well as being unable to move in sunlight, demons couldn’t leave their country of origin. It was different for Hanna and me: the light was a painful hindrance, but not deadly. Sticking to Switzerland was a safe plan. But my stomach still twisted with anxiety as I thought of what we had run away from; what she was walking straight back into.
1999. That summer and autumn I’d spent as her juvenile had been the greatest, yet darkest time I’d ever known. She had transformed my life in order to save it, as I lay helpless in the emergency room. Then we had fled across the border and she had taught me everything she knew, even with the full intention of turning me back as soon as she could.
But, even by juvenile period standards, that time had hardly been ordinary. Demons around every corner, waiting, watching. Towards the end, every breath I’d taken was laced with the icy edge of fear. I’d tried to play my cards as close to my chest as I could, to make the situation easier for Hanna, but I would have been stupid to not be afraid.
And I didn’t care that she would only be in Germany for seven days, or that she was twenty-eight and more than capable of looking after herself. Five years might have passed, but five years were also nothing to demons.
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
Hanna shot me a glance. “Nein, it’s fine. Stay here and rest. You’ve earned it.”
“I can rest there,” I insisted. “Anyway, it would be nice to celebrate by seeing Donaueschingen again. And who else are either of us going to talk to?”
“There are such things as phones, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. I don’t mind not going to the christening. I just want to get out of London for a while. And I don’t know when I’ll next have a chance to go back, if I’ll be working full-time at the end of the month.”
Hanna took another sip of her wine. “Oh, alright. It’s not as though you’re a kid anymore. I can’t just order you about.”
“As if I ever listened,” I smiled.
A few minutes later, Mum and Dad returned, and we began combing through the dessert menu.
I glanced at my wrist as I turned the pages. Just above the edge of my cuff was the top of a thin scar, directly over my vein. After she’d turned me, Hanna had bitten me there to make me a full vampire. That was yet another thing she hadn’t intended on me wanting to stick around for. But it had been worth it. I couldn’t have dealt with never being able to fly again.
*
The sun had barely risen when Hanna and I stepped off the train at the airport. The sky hung heavy with clouds, and the tarmac outside the terminal windows was slick from a recent rain. It reflected the light in a million directions, so we kept to the food and shopping areas. The fluorescents weren’t much better, but nothing we weren’t used to.
We each bought a coffee, and settled in a couple of chairs near the gate corridor. Hanna's eyes darted all over the place. For a split second, they flashed red, before returning to their usual brown colour. Over the haze of blood from the surrounding people, I could practically smell her nerves.
“I know I’m being stupid,” she said. “I just… I never thought I’d be doing this again. Going back, I mean. I’d basically shut myself off from even entertaining the idea.”
“Well, in your defence, you didn’t know Abigail was going to have a baby,” I said.
She groaned. “At least it’s not in the dead of winter. We won’t be racing against the clock to get across the border.”
A PA system beeped. The sound stabbed through my eardrums.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to inform you that the 11am British Airways Flight 2757 to Friedrichshafen has unfortunately been delayed. Please pay attention to the screens for information regarding this flight. Thank you.”
Hanna smacked her knee in frustration. “Really?”
I glanced at the sky outside. “It had better not be too long. Otherwise, we’ll be landing at night.”
“It will be fine,” Hanna said, but there was a hollowness to her words which wasn’t lost on me. “We’ll just catch a train, or something. Go straight to Switzerland.”
“I knew we should have flown into Zürich,” I muttered.
Hanna took an overly-zealous sip of coffee. “Frank, please don’t worry. I’m trying not to.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re a nurse. You’re used to keeping your head.”
“You can keep yours, too. Come on, I don’t want to be fretting the whole time we’re in Germany. I thought you said you wanted to relax.”
“And I will. When it’s daytime,” I replied.
I reminded myself what Hanna had said after graduation: the chances of it being unsafe after five years were slim. But after what we’d been through, what we’d seen, the care we had both taken to ensure we couldn’t be followed…
“Do you think Lukas is still alive?” I asked. The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Hanna looked at her bag and traced the dragonfly keyring on the clasp.
“I can’t see any reason why not. He’s probably set up a territory by now. Blutsaugers will do that quicker than most demons.”
“They lose their minds quicker than most demons, too,” I said darkly.
Hanna dragged a hand down her face. “Well, hopefully it won’t have taken too great a toll on him. Yet, anyway. And hopefully, he’s still around Frankfurt. Nowhere near us.”
“How come you never liked him?” I asked. “Besides him just being an idiot, I mean.”
Hanna scoffed. “Idiot is one word for it. I caught him burning ants with a magnifying glass once – before he tied cans to a dog’s tail. That immediately set my respect for him at the lowest point, and he never did anything to raise it.”
“You never told me about the ants.”
“I don’t think you’d have listened to me, if I’d mentioned it when you were seventeen.”
“Ja, I would! You know I would have.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I tried to warn you not to hang out with him on day one. And then you ended up in front of me at death’s door.”
I went to argue, but then closed my mouth. She had a point. Adulthood had hit me like a train after she turned me, but before that, I was as stupid and carefree as any other teenager. Lukas had already dug his own grave, and I’d just been too naïve at that point to see it.
I often tried not to think about him. He was an idiot, always smoking and slacking, flipping off anyone he didn’t like. In hindsight, I didn't know how I could ever have become friendly with him. And he’d only been a few months older than me when he transformed into a Blutsauger.
The idea of being trapped like that forever, never ageing, being able to see the sun again, or even hear his own name spoken aloud… It sent shivers down my spine. He’d said he was happy with the lot he’d been given, but still, I wondered. Five years. He should be twenty-three by now, but he’d still only look eighteen. Still would in another hundred years, if he were able to even last that long.
Had there ever been a moment when he’d regretted it? When he’d realised the extent of what he’d done?
We each bought a coffee, and settled in a couple of chairs near the gate corridor. Hanna's eyes darted all over the place. For a split second, they flashed red, before returning to their usual brown colour. Over the haze of blood from the surrounding people, I could practically smell her nerves.
“I know I’m being stupid,” she said. “I just… I never thought I’d be doing this again. Going back, I mean. I’d basically shut myself off from even entertaining the idea.”
“Well, in your defence, you didn’t know Abigail was going to have a baby,” I said.
She groaned. “At least it’s not in the dead of winter. We won’t be racing against the clock to get across the border.”
A PA system beeped. The sound stabbed through my eardrums.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to inform you that the 11am British Airways Flight 2757 to Friedrichshafen has unfortunately been delayed. Please pay attention to the screens for information regarding this flight. Thank you.”
Hanna smacked her knee in frustration. “Really?”
I glanced at the sky outside. “It had better not be too long. Otherwise, we’ll be landing at night.”
“It will be fine,” Hanna said, but there was a hollowness to her words which wasn’t lost on me. “We’ll just catch a train, or something. Go straight to Switzerland.”
“I knew we should have flown into Zürich,” I muttered.
Hanna took an overly-zealous sip of coffee. “Frank, please don’t worry. I’m trying not to.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re a nurse. You’re used to keeping your head.”
“You can keep yours, too. Come on, I don’t want to be fretting the whole time we’re in Germany. I thought you said you wanted to relax.”
“And I will. When it’s daytime,” I replied.
I reminded myself what Hanna had said after graduation: the chances of it being unsafe after five years were slim. But after what we’d been through, what we’d seen, the care we had both taken to ensure we couldn’t be followed…
“Do you think Lukas is still alive?” I asked. The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Hanna looked at her bag and traced the dragonfly keyring on the clasp.
“I can’t see any reason why not. He’s probably set up a territory by now. Blutsaugers will do that quicker than most demons.”
“They lose their minds quicker than most demons, too,” I said darkly.
Hanna dragged a hand down her face. “Well, hopefully it won’t have taken too great a toll on him. Yet, anyway. And hopefully, he’s still around Frankfurt. Nowhere near us.”
“How come you never liked him?” I asked. “Besides him just being an idiot, I mean.”
Hanna scoffed. “Idiot is one word for it. I caught him burning ants with a magnifying glass once – before he tied cans to a dog’s tail. That immediately set my respect for him at the lowest point, and he never did anything to raise it.”
“You never told me about the ants.”
“I don’t think you’d have listened to me, if I’d mentioned it when you were seventeen.”
“Ja, I would! You know I would have.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I tried to warn you not to hang out with him on day one. And then you ended up in front of me at death’s door.”
I went to argue, but then closed my mouth. She had a point. Adulthood had hit me like a train after she turned me, but before that, I was as stupid and carefree as any other teenager. Lukas had already dug his own grave, and I’d just been too naïve at that point to see it.
I often tried not to think about him. He was an idiot, always smoking and slacking, flipping off anyone he didn’t like. In hindsight, I didn't know how I could ever have become friendly with him. And he’d only been a few months older than me when he transformed into a Blutsauger.
The idea of being trapped like that forever, never ageing, being able to see the sun again, or even hear his own name spoken aloud… It sent shivers down my spine. He’d said he was happy with the lot he’d been given, but still, I wondered. Five years. He should be twenty-three by now, but he’d still only look eighteen. Still would in another hundred years, if he were able to even last that long.
Had there ever been a moment when he’d regretted it? When he’d realised the extent of what he’d done?
*
We watched the clock and departure screens incessantly, as though something might change from one minute to the next. In the end, we bought a pizza and ate it as quickly as we could, in case we were called.
The light dipped outside. As the windows darkened, Hanna and I shared a glance. The flight was only an hour and a half, but now there was no way we would land before the sun set, let alone move fast enough to get into Switzerland.
By the time we were finally allowed to board, six hours had passed, and it was completely dark. I forced myself to concentrate as I shoved both our bags into the overhead locker. We hadn’t bothered with large suitcases. I’d lived out of a backpack when I’d ridden the Danube Cycle Trail. A week in the Black Forest wasn’t going to kill me.
All around, I heard heartbeats pumping in a low, monotonous roar. I could smell the blood: hot, sweet, metallic. Even now, even though I didn't need a drop of it, that scent was intoxicating, calling to the part of me which was forever changed. I disliked it, yet a separate part of my brain was aware of it always, and whenever I drank, it made me believe I’d never known what true taste could be.
A couple of the blood odours held a distinctive bitterness, and that immediately told me we weren’t the only vampires on this flight. But to have been intending to travel in daylight, they would be like us: harmless, not demons. Unable to die under UV exposure. Regular people, with regular lives, albeit with a few specific modifications. I spotted them from the other end of the plane: a man and woman. At exactly the same time, they also turned their eyes on me. I nodded respectfully – they gave me a smile and sat down.
When I looked at the others – the humans – I could almost see the network of arteries and veins running under their skin. Tiny details bombarded my senses: the individual fibres in the seat in front of me, the tiniest feathery ice crystals forming on the window as we rose higher. The engines rumbled like thunder. We were directly over the plane’s wing, and the light blinked on the tip. It was green: closer to the blue end of the colour spectrum, and that was always more painful than warmer tones.
I dug out my MP3 player. I needed the music to distract me. If I focused on just one thing, then the others seemed somewhat dulled in comparison. Then I closed my eyes.
It still amazed me, how I had managed to go through seventeen years of my life without being so aware of what was around me. Until then, I never paid mind to any of it. Now, I had to work to escape it. Could humans honestly be so blind, so deaf? Had I really been one of them?
I smiled to myself. That was the least of it. When Hanna had first showed me what she was, I’d panicked so much, I’d tried to run away. And yet here we still were, heading back home.
A little flicker of warmth swelled in my chest. Like her, I’d wondered if I’d ever set foot in Germany again. But now, returning not only there, but to Baden-Württemberg; to Donaueschingen, where my earliest memories were forged… Never mind the nerves. I couldn’t deny they were also laced with a sweet nostalgic joy.
I didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep until Hanna jostled my shoulder. The seatbelt sign flashed, and I felt a characteristic drop in my stomach as the plane began its descent. After another few minutes, we touched down.
A smile crept over my face when we disembarked. All the signs were in German; snippets of conversation filled my ears. It felt as though music was singing through my blood.
“Willkommen in Deutschland,” said the passport officer.
“Danke schön,” I replied.
I pulled my coat on and checked my watch. Half past seven. Hardly ideal, but at least it would mean most rail and road links wouldn’t be shut for the night.
Hanna approached a transport agent, and rang the bell on the desk to get his attention.
“Excuse me, Mein Herr,” she said, “are there any trains running to Schaffhausen, please? The sooner, the better.”
I looked at my watch again as the agent started clicking through a computer. Strictly speaking, we weren’t far from the Swiss border, even here. Only the Bodensee separated us. If only we could get the ferry across, that would shave a corner off the journey.
“Ah, here we are,” said the agent, but then his face fell. “Oh. Maybe not.”
“I’m sorry?” Hanna said.
“There should be a train leaving in fifteen minutes, but the entire line is shut for maintenance until Friday, I’m afraid.”
Hanna groaned. “Any buses?”
“It looks like there’s one,” the agent said. “It’s due to depart from the Stadtbahnhof at eight o’clock. If you leave now, then you should make it, and be in Schaffhausen in two hours.”
“Perfect,” I muttered.
Hanna thanked him, grabbed my wrist, and we headed outside. Cool night air swept into my lungs. It was heavy with exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke, but already, it smelled a little different to London: less smoggy, richer. As the wind blew from the south-west, I felt it carrying the coolness of the nearby lake.
We hailed a taxi, rode it to the central station, found the bus and hurried on board, moments before it pulled away. I barely took a moment to breathe. The entire drive blurred and the minutes fell into each other, like the colours of a painting breaking out of their lines. Tiredness was beginning to tug at my eyes again.
“God, I’m going to bed as soon as we get there,” I said.
“Likewise,” Hanna yawned.
I glanced around the bus. There were only eight other passengers on it, all humans. I wondered if any of them were going to Switzerland, too.
Hanna prodded her glasses higher up her nose, rested her bag on her lap, and started twirling the dragonfly keychain between her fingers. The movement almost reminded me of pressing the strings on a fretboard. She had always loved music.
“Not long now,” she said in relief.
“Does Abigail know we’re here?” I asked.
“Ja, I sent her a text when we landed, said I’d see her tomorrow.”
“I’m shocked she didn’t ask you to play anything at the christening.”
Hanna chuckled. “Well, I will, if she wants to fix me up with a guitar!”
“It still stuns me that you never studied music. I know it wasn’t really an option for you before, but you could do it now, if you wanted.”
“Instead of a microbiology PhD, you mean? Start a band, go touring?”
“Yeah. Well, I know being a Doktor wasn’t your first choice. Or a nurse, for that matter.”
“But then who else gets to scribble all the findings about vampirism?” Hanna said dryly. “That reminds me, actually. I forgot to tell you. I think I might have found something which will help separate the healing compounds from the toxic ones in venom.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Hanna beamed. “Why else do you think I chose to do another course? Hopefully, someday soon, I’ll be able to do enough to tie all the previous research together, in a way that can be accepted by the scientific community. And then I’ll have the credentials to actually talk about it.”
I stared at her. For the past two and a half centuries, Hanna’s family had studied the nature of our condition, and recorded everything in an invaluable book, which she kept locked in her London flat. I was the only other person who knew about it, as well as the combination for the safe. The special code was still relatively new to me, but I’d managed to pick it up quickly enough.
I’d humoured her when she’d said she wanted me in on the secret, even though I knew the book would never come to me. It was a thing of the Bernstein family: a legacy the size of an invisible mountain. One of these days, I was sure Hanna would find a partner, have a child of her own, and pass it down, as it had been passed down to her. Maybe then I could be a godfather, like she would be to Abigail’s baby. Or maybe the crazy uncle-who-wasn’t-an-uncle, obsessed with everything Disney-related.
“I forgot to ask,” I said. “What’s the kid called?”
Hanna smiled. “Max Hutter.”
“Cool. Any middle names?”
“Not as far as I know. I like it. Nice and short. I’ll have no excuse if I forget it!”
I laughed, pulled a water bottle out of my bag and took a sip. Then I carefully tipped a little into my palm and wiped it over my face. I needed to keep myself awake. The lights of Friedrichshafen had long gone now, and we were driving along the highway beside the lake. Its waters shone black out of the window, like a sheet of polished ebony. The moon was a tiny crescent and cast hardly a reflection on the surface. The road itself was surprisingly quiet, too. I guessed all the commuters would be home by now.
I drank another mouthful. Ninety minutes, and we’d be at the hotel. Then I’d fall onto the bed, and not move until the sun was up again.
There was a sudden bang, and the entire bus jolted. I snatched hold of the seat in alarm. The other passengers shrieked as the right side lurched downward.
“What’s going on?” I cried.
Hanna shook her head in confusion. The driver smacked the indicator and manoeuvred the bus onto the hard shoulder. Then he hurried outside and swore.
“Okay, everyone, we’ve got a bit of a problem here,” he said. “We’ve had a tyre blowout. I’ll call it through now. I’m really sorry about this.”
“Will we have to wait here?” a woman asked.
“They’ll probably send out a replacement bus, to save you all waiting while a new tyre is fitted,” replied the driver. “I’m so, so sorry. I know it’s late. This is the last thing anyone needs.”
I scoffed. He could say that again.
The driver whipped out his mobile and began speaking to someone on the other end. Hanna rested her head back and sighed.
“Did we walk under a ladder today, or something?” she muttered.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Hey, while we’ve stopped, do you mind if I have some fresh air? I’m going to fall asleep at this rate.”
“Sure, I’ll come with you.”
We left our bags on the seats, and stepped off the bus. A couple of the other passengers followed suit, started speaking angrily among themselves. To get away from them, Hanna and I crossed the road, climbed over the barrier, and perched on it.
The black Bodensee stretched in front of us. It was all there was, save for a large cluster of trees on the other side of the highway. I could see lights on the far shore of the lake: Kreuzlingen in Switzerland. The neighbouring country was right there.
I glanced at the water, then at Hanna.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Before she could speak, she sniffed: short, sharp inhales, like a dog which had caught a scent. I quickly did the same, and noticed something which I hadn’t before.
Blood. And not the dull day-to-day kind which always surrounded humans as they walked about, oblivious. It was stronger than that: spilled. There was venom there, too. More than what I could smell in Hanna or any other harmless.
“We’re on a demon’s territory,” Hanna whispered.
My pulse shot up. I looked around, half-expecting something to jump out from behind the bus. The wind changed direction, blew from behind us, and the scent became stronger.
My eyes settled on the trees. The vampire was in there. Close.
We had nothing to fear from the harmless ones, like us, but demons were different. They never took kindly to any vampire stepping onto their patch. And after our experiences, I wasn’t about to take a chance with it.
“Okay, forget waiting here. We need to go,” I said.
Hanna nodded. She spoke with the driver, told him we’d arranged other transport, then hurried onto the bus and returned with both our bags. I glanced up and down the road. It was quiet, but cars were still trundling along, and practically all the passengers had now thronged together on the hard shoulder.
The two of us walked a little further along the highway, until we were out of sight of everyone. Then, when the glow of headlamps receded, we reached out to the shadows, swept them close, covered ourselves with them as though putting on a cloak. Now it didn’t matter if a human came within inches of us. They wouldn’t notice a thing.
“Ready?” Hanna asked.
“Ja,” I said.
We rolled our shoulders. I felt the muscles in my back tightening, knotting together, sprouting tendons and bones and flaps of skin. Within seconds, a pair of bat wings protruded into the air, each one as long as I was tall. I raised them high so Hanna would have room to unfurl her own.
I took a run down the asphalt, flapping as hard as I could. My feet lifted. I found an updraft, let it push against the wings and take me higher. The ground grew tiny and yet massive below: I saw trees, water, roads, sky; wonderfully black, broken only by distant city lights and the faint blinking of stars.
I drew in a deep breath through my nose. Oh, God, yes… This was why I’d insisted on becoming a full vampire. If Hanna had restored my humanity, I would never have been able to do this again. To feel the wind in my hair, to fly, to soar, weightless; above the world, and yet be so tiny in the face of it. I could forget the pain of the sun, the disgust at drinking blood, while I was in the sky and at one with it. With these wings on my back, there was no purer freedom.
I lifted the shadow. Nobody would be able to see me this high up. Hanna appeared at my side, beating her wings hard to keep herself in one place. Behind her glasses, her eyes had turned completely red.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said.
We turned south-west, towards Kreuzlingen. Six kilometres away, at most. I was tired, and it was a long flight, but nothing I hadn’t done before. We would be there in less than half an hour. Then we could get a taxi to Schaffhausen and put this entire awful day behind us.
Suddenly, my wings snapped straight down, as though a huge invisible sheet had wrapped around my body. I yelped, trying to move them, but they wouldn’t respond.
My heart leapt into my mouth. I knew that feeling. The demon had spotted us.
I fell out of the sky. Hanna dived after me. Twigs whipped at my face and arms. I crashed through a canopy of trees, and landed hard on my back. All the breath shot from my lungs. The branches swayed overhead, like black veins against the sky. Their leaves littered the floor in a carpet of red. I smelled fungi, dampness; the fresh blood, stronger than ever. And cannabis.
Hanna appeared, pulled in her wings, and snatched a torch out of her bag.
“Are you okay?” she hissed.
I nodded, took her hand, and she hauled me to my feet. My shoulders smarted with pain. There were rocks scattered all over the place. Had I come down on one of those?
I folded my wings, pressing them against my back until they disappeared. Hanna stood in front of me protectively, and swept the torch beam around. I heard a low growl rolling in her throat.
“What the Hell do you think you’re doing, flying on my territory?” a voice snarled.
“We didn’t mean to trespass,” Hanna said. “We’re just crossing the Bodensee.”
“Wait a second…”
Ice crept through my veins. The cannabis smell was one thing, but I knew that voice. It was strained and reedy, yet horribly familiar.
A figure stepped out of the shadows, and I almost fell over.
“Lukas?”
“Frank?”
He came closer. Hanna immediately raised an arm to keep me behind her. She shone the torch at Lukas’s feet – low enough to not blind him, but in a position to raise it if she had to.
The sight of him stunned me. Time had frozen on him, and locked him into the body he had five years ago, when we both completed the transformation. But I’d given permission to be as I was, and he hadn’t. This was the result: a creature of darkness, a husk in the shape of the person he’d once been. His cheeks were shockingly pale, like snow had settled over them. He was dressed in shabby, faded clothes several sizes too big for him; the front of the t-shirt was stained with blood. More of it streaked down his chin – he had fed this very evening. Was the poor person still alive, or had he drained them dry, and already dumped the body in the lake?
“Frank,” Lukas repeated. “And… Bernstein?”
Hanna tensed. I didn’t blame her. The last time she’d seen Lukas, he had almost killed both of us.
I quickly sniffed again. He stank, but I couldn’t sense any other demons nearby. He was alone.
“What are you doing here?” I wheezed. “You were in Frankfurt!”
“I came home. Well, close to home.”
“And where’s the guy you attacked?”
“Don’t aggravate him,” Hanna hissed. “Lukas, don’t come any closer. Just let us go, alright? We didn’t know you were here, and we want no quarrel with you.”
I shot her a glance. Her steady head amazed me, but then I reminded myself she was used to dealing with tense situations. She had a lifetime of vampirism knowledge from her family, and she’d worked as an ER nurse for years. There was little she hadn’t seen by now.
“Bernstein,” Lukas snapped. He wiped his lips on his sleeve and narrowed his eyes. They had no colour at all. Two black holes stared out of an empty face.
“Don’t make me say your full name,” Hanna warned. “We just want to go, okay?”
Lukas shook his head violently. Then I noticed there was blood smeared over his fingers, too.
“Nein, nein!” he cried. “Look… Don’t, please! I need your help!”
Hanna didn’t move. “Lukas, take a few steps back, and let us go.”
“Nein! Listen to me!” Lukas snapped. “I can’t stand it! Please make it stop! The sun… It burns! God, it burns… I want to see it again! I can’t do this anymore! Make it stop!”
I pushed Hanna’s arm down so I could stand next to her. Never mind that this kid was once my friend. I didn’t trust him at all.
What the Hell was happening today? First the plane, then the bus, and now this? What were the chances of running into him? If only the damn tyre had blown just a few kilometres further along the road…
“I don’t want you here… Nein!” Lukas yelped. “Make it stop! Turn me back! I know you know how! You know everything, Bernstein! What does your book say? Tell me!”
I heard Hanna swallow. “I can’t turn you back. You know I can’t.”
“You can! There must be a way! Damn it, please! No! Get… Oh, God…”
I felt sick looking at him. Blutsaugers were the most unstable of German demons, but to have deteriorated this much in such a short length of time? Five years ago, I’d have pitied him, but not now.
I tried to think straight. Could we say his name, incapacitate him, then fly off while he was down? Would he recover fast enough to catch us before we crossed the border? Where even was the border? In the middle of the lake, or on the other side?
“We can’t stay here,” I whispered to Hanna.
“I know,” she said.
She planted her feet on the floor, ready to run. I did the same. My shoulders still hurt, and each breath flared with pain, but I could ignore it if I had to.
“Turn me back!” Lukas shouted again. “Please! God, Bernstein, I’m sorry for everything! I was stupid! Just turn me back! Suck it out of me! Please!”
“I can’t,” Hanna said carefully. “It’s too late now. The venom is fused with your blood.”
Lukas’s brows lowered into a dangerous slant. “I want you to turn me back!”
He leapt at us. At once, Hanna raised the torch and shone it straight at his eyes.
“Lukas von Himbergen!” I shouted for good measure.
Lukas screamed. He fell to the floor and started convulsing. Hanna didn’t waste a second. She grabbed my wrist, and we ran through the trees.
They were denser than I’d been expecting. The branches wove together like a basket and caged us in. There was no way we’d be able to open our wings and fly through them. We had to get somewhere more open, then shadow ourselves and go as fast as we could.
I heard Lukas coming after us. He crashed through the undergrowth, snarling and hissing like an animal. I didn’t dare look back; sucked in air through gritted teeth. Oh, God, it hurt so bad… Would I even be able to flap hard enough to stay in the air? I’d have to. He would kill us if he caught us.
Then I spotted movement ahead; smelled dog fur and blood – arterial this time, normal, not spilled. A man walking a Labrador. My heart lifted. That must mean there was a footpath, and that would lead out of the woods.
“Hey!” the man called. “What’s going on over there? Are you alright?”
“Go!” Hanna shouted. “Get out of here!”
The man hovered uncertainly, then tried to pull the Labrador away, but it was straining at the leash, snarling in our direction. I knew it could smell Lukas; the blood on him.
My legs locked together. I crashed onto my front, and Hanna’s fingers snapped away. Then I caught the odour of an unwashed body. Hands grabbed my ankles and dragged me along the ground. I tried to snatch out, for roots, rocks, anything; but before I could, Lukas pulled me up by my hair.
“Say my name again, and I’ll rip his throat out, Bernstein!” Lukas warned. “Now, for the last time, you bitch, turn me back!”
Hanna curled her lips threateningly, and whipped the torch beam at him again. It shone straight into my face. I yelled in pain; a thousand pins were driving into my eyes. I couldn’t see…
Lukas let go. I felt wind on my face as Hanna leapt over me; a snarl, the sound of a slap. I squinted, half-blinded. Hanna and Lukas were grappling, the torch flashing about crazily. Hanna thrust her palm under his jaw, forcing his head up, so he couldn’t use the telekinesis on her. She drew in a breath to say his name.
Lukas caught her across the face. She stumbled, then he shoved her away. Her heel hit a rock. She fell backwards, and didn’t move.
Adrenaline fired into me. I jumped at Lukas, knocked him to the floor, and threw a punch at his temple. As soon as it made contact, he went limp, out cold.
I groaned with relief and sat back on my heels, blinking hard to clear my vision. Everything swam before me, like oil on the surface of water. Even in the darkness, the trees seemed overexposed; the contrast of light and shadow far too high. And the leaves… Were they really that red? Surely not…
The dog walker appeared at my side, and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he asked nervously. “I’ve called the police. Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “Nein, danke, I’m fine. Hanna, are you alright?”
She didn’t answer. I crawled over to her. Her mouth was open in faint surprise, her glasses broken on one side, eyes staring straight up. I couldn’t hear her breathing, or even a heartbeat.
And then I felt something seeping into my jeans: warm, wet. Blood.
With a stab of terror, I realised what had happened. There was another rock, under her head. When I touched it, I felt torn skin; a horribly deep wound.
“Call an ambulance!” I cried.
I planted my hands over Hanna's chest and began pushing. Just as she’d taught me: thirty times, quick succession…
Nothing happened. I pinched her nose shut and blew into her mouth. She didn’t stir. I tasted blood on her lips; a line of it flowed down her chin. I returned to the compressions. Was I even doing this right?
The dog was still barking. The noise mixed with the thunder of my own heart. This couldn’t be happening. Not Hanna. Not after all she’d done, all she was yet to do…
Press. Breathe. Repeat. The blood carried on pouring out. I wrenched off my coat and balled it under her head. I had to stop it. It was all I could smell, and she was so cold…
I heard sirens. Paramedics and police descended in a haze. I tried to explain what had happened as Lukas was handcuffed. When they moved him, he started to come around, mumbling incoherently. I wanted to grab him, punch him until his face was unrecognisable, put my hands around his neck and strangle him…
But I didn’t do any of those things. I just stayed with Hanna, pushing down on her chest, even as my arms and torso screamed from the effort. She still hadn’t moved; hadn’t even blinked. Her eyes were glassy. In desperation, I snatched the torch and aimed it at her face. Her pupils didn’t constrict at all.
The paramedics took over and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. I jumped in after her. They hooked her up to a heart monitor, bandaged her head, produced a defibrillator and shocked her. The line jumped, and went flat, over and over. The sirens stabbed my eardrums like a knife. Could she hear them?
I sat against the wall, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I clutched my bag like a lifeline. Hanna’s had been thrown in as well, under my seat. I grabbed it and held the dragonfly so tightly, it cut into my palm.
Time didn’t exist anymore. It was just one single second, stretched over an eternity. I hovered above it; receded so deep into myself, I couldn’t think. Breathe. In and out. Wailing. Beeping. Shock. I looked at my hands, red with blood. Hanna’s blood. My turner’s blood.
We reached a hospital. The paramedics sprinted through the ER with Hanna between them. I tried to follow, but the nurses held me back.
“Nein! Please, I have to stay with her! She’s my friend!” I cried.
“I’m afraid we can’t allow that, please sit down.”
“Hanna! Oh, God… Is she going to die?”
“Just sit down, Mein Herr.”
I fell into a chair. The sharp smell of disinfectant shot up my nose. I closed my eyes so the lights couldn’t dazzle me. My head hurt so much. I wanted to tear it clean off my body, curl up in the dark, and not move a muscle.
More people appeared and checked me, to see if I was hurt, too. When it was clear I wasn’t, the police arrived.
“What happened?” one of the officers asked. “Did you know that man?”
I nodded woodenly. “Lukas von Himbergen. He was… an old friend, from childhood. I hadn’t seen him for five years. I didn’t know what had happened to him. I had no idea he was even there.”
“And why did he attack you?”
“I don’t know. Hanna and I… We were taking a bus to Schaffhausen. the tyre blew so we decided to just… have some fresh air in the woods before we moved on. Then he appeared.”
It was a lie, but I knew I couldn’t say what really happened. Lukas had been caught, and if he revealed what he was, or what we were, then it would be dismissed as mad ravings. And that dog walker had witnessed him attacking us; had seen Hanna fall onto that rock…
Ja. Lies to protect the truth. Nobody would believe anything else.
The officers jotted down everything I said, thanked me, and said they would be in touch. Then they made themselves scarce, but I knew they hadn’t left. I could still smell them, around the corner, out of sight. They were waiting for news of Hanna.
What was happening to her? Was she having emergency surgery? Could they repair a wound that deep? Had it fractured her skull? She had venom in her system; the entire reason she’d turned me was so its healing compounds could work their magic. That same idea had to be enough now. Had to be.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, ran my hands under the water, and scrubbed until I was clean. It felt almost wrong to be washing the blood away, but I couldn’t bear to look at it for another moment. Then I drifted outside again like a phantom; bit my lip, stopped myself just before my teeth could slice the skin open. I tried to listen, but there was too much all around me. Too many voices, beeps, noises… and those damn lights, searing into my brain.
Somewhere far away, I heard a clock strike the hour. I didn’t care which one it was. We should have been in Schaffhausen by now. Should have been laughing and joking, climbing into bed and looking forward to the next day. That seemed a million years away now.
A nurse emerged from the far end of the corridor. I ran over.
“Is she alright?” I asked. “Hanna Bernstein. Please…”
The nurse met my eyes. Her expression spoke louder than any words she might have muttered.
My knees folded underneath me and I crashed to the floor.
The light dipped outside. As the windows darkened, Hanna and I shared a glance. The flight was only an hour and a half, but now there was no way we would land before the sun set, let alone move fast enough to get into Switzerland.
By the time we were finally allowed to board, six hours had passed, and it was completely dark. I forced myself to concentrate as I shoved both our bags into the overhead locker. We hadn’t bothered with large suitcases. I’d lived out of a backpack when I’d ridden the Danube Cycle Trail. A week in the Black Forest wasn’t going to kill me.
All around, I heard heartbeats pumping in a low, monotonous roar. I could smell the blood: hot, sweet, metallic. Even now, even though I didn't need a drop of it, that scent was intoxicating, calling to the part of me which was forever changed. I disliked it, yet a separate part of my brain was aware of it always, and whenever I drank, it made me believe I’d never known what true taste could be.
A couple of the blood odours held a distinctive bitterness, and that immediately told me we weren’t the only vampires on this flight. But to have been intending to travel in daylight, they would be like us: harmless, not demons. Unable to die under UV exposure. Regular people, with regular lives, albeit with a few specific modifications. I spotted them from the other end of the plane: a man and woman. At exactly the same time, they also turned their eyes on me. I nodded respectfully – they gave me a smile and sat down.
When I looked at the others – the humans – I could almost see the network of arteries and veins running under their skin. Tiny details bombarded my senses: the individual fibres in the seat in front of me, the tiniest feathery ice crystals forming on the window as we rose higher. The engines rumbled like thunder. We were directly over the plane’s wing, and the light blinked on the tip. It was green: closer to the blue end of the colour spectrum, and that was always more painful than warmer tones.
I dug out my MP3 player. I needed the music to distract me. If I focused on just one thing, then the others seemed somewhat dulled in comparison. Then I closed my eyes.
It still amazed me, how I had managed to go through seventeen years of my life without being so aware of what was around me. Until then, I never paid mind to any of it. Now, I had to work to escape it. Could humans honestly be so blind, so deaf? Had I really been one of them?
I smiled to myself. That was the least of it. When Hanna had first showed me what she was, I’d panicked so much, I’d tried to run away. And yet here we still were, heading back home.
A little flicker of warmth swelled in my chest. Like her, I’d wondered if I’d ever set foot in Germany again. But now, returning not only there, but to Baden-Württemberg; to Donaueschingen, where my earliest memories were forged… Never mind the nerves. I couldn’t deny they were also laced with a sweet nostalgic joy.
I didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep until Hanna jostled my shoulder. The seatbelt sign flashed, and I felt a characteristic drop in my stomach as the plane began its descent. After another few minutes, we touched down.
A smile crept over my face when we disembarked. All the signs were in German; snippets of conversation filled my ears. It felt as though music was singing through my blood.
“Willkommen in Deutschland,” said the passport officer.
“Danke schön,” I replied.
I pulled my coat on and checked my watch. Half past seven. Hardly ideal, but at least it would mean most rail and road links wouldn’t be shut for the night.
Hanna approached a transport agent, and rang the bell on the desk to get his attention.
“Excuse me, Mein Herr,” she said, “are there any trains running to Schaffhausen, please? The sooner, the better.”
I looked at my watch again as the agent started clicking through a computer. Strictly speaking, we weren’t far from the Swiss border, even here. Only the Bodensee separated us. If only we could get the ferry across, that would shave a corner off the journey.
“Ah, here we are,” said the agent, but then his face fell. “Oh. Maybe not.”
“I’m sorry?” Hanna said.
“There should be a train leaving in fifteen minutes, but the entire line is shut for maintenance until Friday, I’m afraid.”
Hanna groaned. “Any buses?”
“It looks like there’s one,” the agent said. “It’s due to depart from the Stadtbahnhof at eight o’clock. If you leave now, then you should make it, and be in Schaffhausen in two hours.”
“Perfect,” I muttered.
Hanna thanked him, grabbed my wrist, and we headed outside. Cool night air swept into my lungs. It was heavy with exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke, but already, it smelled a little different to London: less smoggy, richer. As the wind blew from the south-west, I felt it carrying the coolness of the nearby lake.
We hailed a taxi, rode it to the central station, found the bus and hurried on board, moments before it pulled away. I barely took a moment to breathe. The entire drive blurred and the minutes fell into each other, like the colours of a painting breaking out of their lines. Tiredness was beginning to tug at my eyes again.
“God, I’m going to bed as soon as we get there,” I said.
“Likewise,” Hanna yawned.
I glanced around the bus. There were only eight other passengers on it, all humans. I wondered if any of them were going to Switzerland, too.
Hanna prodded her glasses higher up her nose, rested her bag on her lap, and started twirling the dragonfly keychain between her fingers. The movement almost reminded me of pressing the strings on a fretboard. She had always loved music.
“Not long now,” she said in relief.
“Does Abigail know we’re here?” I asked.
“Ja, I sent her a text when we landed, said I’d see her tomorrow.”
“I’m shocked she didn’t ask you to play anything at the christening.”
Hanna chuckled. “Well, I will, if she wants to fix me up with a guitar!”
“It still stuns me that you never studied music. I know it wasn’t really an option for you before, but you could do it now, if you wanted.”
“Instead of a microbiology PhD, you mean? Start a band, go touring?”
“Yeah. Well, I know being a Doktor wasn’t your first choice. Or a nurse, for that matter.”
“But then who else gets to scribble all the findings about vampirism?” Hanna said dryly. “That reminds me, actually. I forgot to tell you. I think I might have found something which will help separate the healing compounds from the toxic ones in venom.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Hanna beamed. “Why else do you think I chose to do another course? Hopefully, someday soon, I’ll be able to do enough to tie all the previous research together, in a way that can be accepted by the scientific community. And then I’ll have the credentials to actually talk about it.”
I stared at her. For the past two and a half centuries, Hanna’s family had studied the nature of our condition, and recorded everything in an invaluable book, which she kept locked in her London flat. I was the only other person who knew about it, as well as the combination for the safe. The special code was still relatively new to me, but I’d managed to pick it up quickly enough.
I’d humoured her when she’d said she wanted me in on the secret, even though I knew the book would never come to me. It was a thing of the Bernstein family: a legacy the size of an invisible mountain. One of these days, I was sure Hanna would find a partner, have a child of her own, and pass it down, as it had been passed down to her. Maybe then I could be a godfather, like she would be to Abigail’s baby. Or maybe the crazy uncle-who-wasn’t-an-uncle, obsessed with everything Disney-related.
“I forgot to ask,” I said. “What’s the kid called?”
Hanna smiled. “Max Hutter.”
“Cool. Any middle names?”
“Not as far as I know. I like it. Nice and short. I’ll have no excuse if I forget it!”
I laughed, pulled a water bottle out of my bag and took a sip. Then I carefully tipped a little into my palm and wiped it over my face. I needed to keep myself awake. The lights of Friedrichshafen had long gone now, and we were driving along the highway beside the lake. Its waters shone black out of the window, like a sheet of polished ebony. The moon was a tiny crescent and cast hardly a reflection on the surface. The road itself was surprisingly quiet, too. I guessed all the commuters would be home by now.
I drank another mouthful. Ninety minutes, and we’d be at the hotel. Then I’d fall onto the bed, and not move until the sun was up again.
There was a sudden bang, and the entire bus jolted. I snatched hold of the seat in alarm. The other passengers shrieked as the right side lurched downward.
“What’s going on?” I cried.
Hanna shook her head in confusion. The driver smacked the indicator and manoeuvred the bus onto the hard shoulder. Then he hurried outside and swore.
“Okay, everyone, we’ve got a bit of a problem here,” he said. “We’ve had a tyre blowout. I’ll call it through now. I’m really sorry about this.”
“Will we have to wait here?” a woman asked.
“They’ll probably send out a replacement bus, to save you all waiting while a new tyre is fitted,” replied the driver. “I’m so, so sorry. I know it’s late. This is the last thing anyone needs.”
I scoffed. He could say that again.
The driver whipped out his mobile and began speaking to someone on the other end. Hanna rested her head back and sighed.
“Did we walk under a ladder today, or something?” she muttered.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Hey, while we’ve stopped, do you mind if I have some fresh air? I’m going to fall asleep at this rate.”
“Sure, I’ll come with you.”
We left our bags on the seats, and stepped off the bus. A couple of the other passengers followed suit, started speaking angrily among themselves. To get away from them, Hanna and I crossed the road, climbed over the barrier, and perched on it.
The black Bodensee stretched in front of us. It was all there was, save for a large cluster of trees on the other side of the highway. I could see lights on the far shore of the lake: Kreuzlingen in Switzerland. The neighbouring country was right there.
I glanced at the water, then at Hanna.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Before she could speak, she sniffed: short, sharp inhales, like a dog which had caught a scent. I quickly did the same, and noticed something which I hadn’t before.
Blood. And not the dull day-to-day kind which always surrounded humans as they walked about, oblivious. It was stronger than that: spilled. There was venom there, too. More than what I could smell in Hanna or any other harmless.
“We’re on a demon’s territory,” Hanna whispered.
My pulse shot up. I looked around, half-expecting something to jump out from behind the bus. The wind changed direction, blew from behind us, and the scent became stronger.
My eyes settled on the trees. The vampire was in there. Close.
We had nothing to fear from the harmless ones, like us, but demons were different. They never took kindly to any vampire stepping onto their patch. And after our experiences, I wasn’t about to take a chance with it.
“Okay, forget waiting here. We need to go,” I said.
Hanna nodded. She spoke with the driver, told him we’d arranged other transport, then hurried onto the bus and returned with both our bags. I glanced up and down the road. It was quiet, but cars were still trundling along, and practically all the passengers had now thronged together on the hard shoulder.
The two of us walked a little further along the highway, until we were out of sight of everyone. Then, when the glow of headlamps receded, we reached out to the shadows, swept them close, covered ourselves with them as though putting on a cloak. Now it didn’t matter if a human came within inches of us. They wouldn’t notice a thing.
“Ready?” Hanna asked.
“Ja,” I said.
We rolled our shoulders. I felt the muscles in my back tightening, knotting together, sprouting tendons and bones and flaps of skin. Within seconds, a pair of bat wings protruded into the air, each one as long as I was tall. I raised them high so Hanna would have room to unfurl her own.
I took a run down the asphalt, flapping as hard as I could. My feet lifted. I found an updraft, let it push against the wings and take me higher. The ground grew tiny and yet massive below: I saw trees, water, roads, sky; wonderfully black, broken only by distant city lights and the faint blinking of stars.
I drew in a deep breath through my nose. Oh, God, yes… This was why I’d insisted on becoming a full vampire. If Hanna had restored my humanity, I would never have been able to do this again. To feel the wind in my hair, to fly, to soar, weightless; above the world, and yet be so tiny in the face of it. I could forget the pain of the sun, the disgust at drinking blood, while I was in the sky and at one with it. With these wings on my back, there was no purer freedom.
I lifted the shadow. Nobody would be able to see me this high up. Hanna appeared at my side, beating her wings hard to keep herself in one place. Behind her glasses, her eyes had turned completely red.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said.
We turned south-west, towards Kreuzlingen. Six kilometres away, at most. I was tired, and it was a long flight, but nothing I hadn’t done before. We would be there in less than half an hour. Then we could get a taxi to Schaffhausen and put this entire awful day behind us.
Suddenly, my wings snapped straight down, as though a huge invisible sheet had wrapped around my body. I yelped, trying to move them, but they wouldn’t respond.
My heart leapt into my mouth. I knew that feeling. The demon had spotted us.
I fell out of the sky. Hanna dived after me. Twigs whipped at my face and arms. I crashed through a canopy of trees, and landed hard on my back. All the breath shot from my lungs. The branches swayed overhead, like black veins against the sky. Their leaves littered the floor in a carpet of red. I smelled fungi, dampness; the fresh blood, stronger than ever. And cannabis.
Hanna appeared, pulled in her wings, and snatched a torch out of her bag.
“Are you okay?” she hissed.
I nodded, took her hand, and she hauled me to my feet. My shoulders smarted with pain. There were rocks scattered all over the place. Had I come down on one of those?
I folded my wings, pressing them against my back until they disappeared. Hanna stood in front of me protectively, and swept the torch beam around. I heard a low growl rolling in her throat.
“What the Hell do you think you’re doing, flying on my territory?” a voice snarled.
“We didn’t mean to trespass,” Hanna said. “We’re just crossing the Bodensee.”
“Wait a second…”
Ice crept through my veins. The cannabis smell was one thing, but I knew that voice. It was strained and reedy, yet horribly familiar.
A figure stepped out of the shadows, and I almost fell over.
“Lukas?”
“Frank?”
He came closer. Hanna immediately raised an arm to keep me behind her. She shone the torch at Lukas’s feet – low enough to not blind him, but in a position to raise it if she had to.
The sight of him stunned me. Time had frozen on him, and locked him into the body he had five years ago, when we both completed the transformation. But I’d given permission to be as I was, and he hadn’t. This was the result: a creature of darkness, a husk in the shape of the person he’d once been. His cheeks were shockingly pale, like snow had settled over them. He was dressed in shabby, faded clothes several sizes too big for him; the front of the t-shirt was stained with blood. More of it streaked down his chin – he had fed this very evening. Was the poor person still alive, or had he drained them dry, and already dumped the body in the lake?
“Frank,” Lukas repeated. “And… Bernstein?”
Hanna tensed. I didn’t blame her. The last time she’d seen Lukas, he had almost killed both of us.
I quickly sniffed again. He stank, but I couldn’t sense any other demons nearby. He was alone.
“What are you doing here?” I wheezed. “You were in Frankfurt!”
“I came home. Well, close to home.”
“And where’s the guy you attacked?”
“Don’t aggravate him,” Hanna hissed. “Lukas, don’t come any closer. Just let us go, alright? We didn’t know you were here, and we want no quarrel with you.”
I shot her a glance. Her steady head amazed me, but then I reminded myself she was used to dealing with tense situations. She had a lifetime of vampirism knowledge from her family, and she’d worked as an ER nurse for years. There was little she hadn’t seen by now.
“Bernstein,” Lukas snapped. He wiped his lips on his sleeve and narrowed his eyes. They had no colour at all. Two black holes stared out of an empty face.
“Don’t make me say your full name,” Hanna warned. “We just want to go, okay?”
Lukas shook his head violently. Then I noticed there was blood smeared over his fingers, too.
“Nein, nein!” he cried. “Look… Don’t, please! I need your help!”
Hanna didn’t move. “Lukas, take a few steps back, and let us go.”
“Nein! Listen to me!” Lukas snapped. “I can’t stand it! Please make it stop! The sun… It burns! God, it burns… I want to see it again! I can’t do this anymore! Make it stop!”
I pushed Hanna’s arm down so I could stand next to her. Never mind that this kid was once my friend. I didn’t trust him at all.
What the Hell was happening today? First the plane, then the bus, and now this? What were the chances of running into him? If only the damn tyre had blown just a few kilometres further along the road…
“I don’t want you here… Nein!” Lukas yelped. “Make it stop! Turn me back! I know you know how! You know everything, Bernstein! What does your book say? Tell me!”
I heard Hanna swallow. “I can’t turn you back. You know I can’t.”
“You can! There must be a way! Damn it, please! No! Get… Oh, God…”
I felt sick looking at him. Blutsaugers were the most unstable of German demons, but to have deteriorated this much in such a short length of time? Five years ago, I’d have pitied him, but not now.
I tried to think straight. Could we say his name, incapacitate him, then fly off while he was down? Would he recover fast enough to catch us before we crossed the border? Where even was the border? In the middle of the lake, or on the other side?
“We can’t stay here,” I whispered to Hanna.
“I know,” she said.
She planted her feet on the floor, ready to run. I did the same. My shoulders still hurt, and each breath flared with pain, but I could ignore it if I had to.
“Turn me back!” Lukas shouted again. “Please! God, Bernstein, I’m sorry for everything! I was stupid! Just turn me back! Suck it out of me! Please!”
“I can’t,” Hanna said carefully. “It’s too late now. The venom is fused with your blood.”
Lukas’s brows lowered into a dangerous slant. “I want you to turn me back!”
He leapt at us. At once, Hanna raised the torch and shone it straight at his eyes.
“Lukas von Himbergen!” I shouted for good measure.
Lukas screamed. He fell to the floor and started convulsing. Hanna didn’t waste a second. She grabbed my wrist, and we ran through the trees.
They were denser than I’d been expecting. The branches wove together like a basket and caged us in. There was no way we’d be able to open our wings and fly through them. We had to get somewhere more open, then shadow ourselves and go as fast as we could.
I heard Lukas coming after us. He crashed through the undergrowth, snarling and hissing like an animal. I didn’t dare look back; sucked in air through gritted teeth. Oh, God, it hurt so bad… Would I even be able to flap hard enough to stay in the air? I’d have to. He would kill us if he caught us.
Then I spotted movement ahead; smelled dog fur and blood – arterial this time, normal, not spilled. A man walking a Labrador. My heart lifted. That must mean there was a footpath, and that would lead out of the woods.
“Hey!” the man called. “What’s going on over there? Are you alright?”
“Go!” Hanna shouted. “Get out of here!”
The man hovered uncertainly, then tried to pull the Labrador away, but it was straining at the leash, snarling in our direction. I knew it could smell Lukas; the blood on him.
My legs locked together. I crashed onto my front, and Hanna’s fingers snapped away. Then I caught the odour of an unwashed body. Hands grabbed my ankles and dragged me along the ground. I tried to snatch out, for roots, rocks, anything; but before I could, Lukas pulled me up by my hair.
“Say my name again, and I’ll rip his throat out, Bernstein!” Lukas warned. “Now, for the last time, you bitch, turn me back!”
Hanna curled her lips threateningly, and whipped the torch beam at him again. It shone straight into my face. I yelled in pain; a thousand pins were driving into my eyes. I couldn’t see…
Lukas let go. I felt wind on my face as Hanna leapt over me; a snarl, the sound of a slap. I squinted, half-blinded. Hanna and Lukas were grappling, the torch flashing about crazily. Hanna thrust her palm under his jaw, forcing his head up, so he couldn’t use the telekinesis on her. She drew in a breath to say his name.
Lukas caught her across the face. She stumbled, then he shoved her away. Her heel hit a rock. She fell backwards, and didn’t move.
Adrenaline fired into me. I jumped at Lukas, knocked him to the floor, and threw a punch at his temple. As soon as it made contact, he went limp, out cold.
I groaned with relief and sat back on my heels, blinking hard to clear my vision. Everything swam before me, like oil on the surface of water. Even in the darkness, the trees seemed overexposed; the contrast of light and shadow far too high. And the leaves… Were they really that red? Surely not…
The dog walker appeared at my side, and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he asked nervously. “I’ve called the police. Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “Nein, danke, I’m fine. Hanna, are you alright?”
She didn’t answer. I crawled over to her. Her mouth was open in faint surprise, her glasses broken on one side, eyes staring straight up. I couldn’t hear her breathing, or even a heartbeat.
And then I felt something seeping into my jeans: warm, wet. Blood.
With a stab of terror, I realised what had happened. There was another rock, under her head. When I touched it, I felt torn skin; a horribly deep wound.
“Call an ambulance!” I cried.
I planted my hands over Hanna's chest and began pushing. Just as she’d taught me: thirty times, quick succession…
Nothing happened. I pinched her nose shut and blew into her mouth. She didn’t stir. I tasted blood on her lips; a line of it flowed down her chin. I returned to the compressions. Was I even doing this right?
The dog was still barking. The noise mixed with the thunder of my own heart. This couldn’t be happening. Not Hanna. Not after all she’d done, all she was yet to do…
Press. Breathe. Repeat. The blood carried on pouring out. I wrenched off my coat and balled it under her head. I had to stop it. It was all I could smell, and she was so cold…
I heard sirens. Paramedics and police descended in a haze. I tried to explain what had happened as Lukas was handcuffed. When they moved him, he started to come around, mumbling incoherently. I wanted to grab him, punch him until his face was unrecognisable, put my hands around his neck and strangle him…
But I didn’t do any of those things. I just stayed with Hanna, pushing down on her chest, even as my arms and torso screamed from the effort. She still hadn’t moved; hadn’t even blinked. Her eyes were glassy. In desperation, I snatched the torch and aimed it at her face. Her pupils didn’t constrict at all.
The paramedics took over and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. I jumped in after her. They hooked her up to a heart monitor, bandaged her head, produced a defibrillator and shocked her. The line jumped, and went flat, over and over. The sirens stabbed my eardrums like a knife. Could she hear them?
I sat against the wall, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I clutched my bag like a lifeline. Hanna’s had been thrown in as well, under my seat. I grabbed it and held the dragonfly so tightly, it cut into my palm.
Time didn’t exist anymore. It was just one single second, stretched over an eternity. I hovered above it; receded so deep into myself, I couldn’t think. Breathe. In and out. Wailing. Beeping. Shock. I looked at my hands, red with blood. Hanna’s blood. My turner’s blood.
We reached a hospital. The paramedics sprinted through the ER with Hanna between them. I tried to follow, but the nurses held me back.
“Nein! Please, I have to stay with her! She’s my friend!” I cried.
“I’m afraid we can’t allow that, please sit down.”
“Hanna! Oh, God… Is she going to die?”
“Just sit down, Mein Herr.”
I fell into a chair. The sharp smell of disinfectant shot up my nose. I closed my eyes so the lights couldn’t dazzle me. My head hurt so much. I wanted to tear it clean off my body, curl up in the dark, and not move a muscle.
More people appeared and checked me, to see if I was hurt, too. When it was clear I wasn’t, the police arrived.
“What happened?” one of the officers asked. “Did you know that man?”
I nodded woodenly. “Lukas von Himbergen. He was… an old friend, from childhood. I hadn’t seen him for five years. I didn’t know what had happened to him. I had no idea he was even there.”
“And why did he attack you?”
“I don’t know. Hanna and I… We were taking a bus to Schaffhausen. the tyre blew so we decided to just… have some fresh air in the woods before we moved on. Then he appeared.”
It was a lie, but I knew I couldn’t say what really happened. Lukas had been caught, and if he revealed what he was, or what we were, then it would be dismissed as mad ravings. And that dog walker had witnessed him attacking us; had seen Hanna fall onto that rock…
Ja. Lies to protect the truth. Nobody would believe anything else.
The officers jotted down everything I said, thanked me, and said they would be in touch. Then they made themselves scarce, but I knew they hadn’t left. I could still smell them, around the corner, out of sight. They were waiting for news of Hanna.
What was happening to her? Was she having emergency surgery? Could they repair a wound that deep? Had it fractured her skull? She had venom in her system; the entire reason she’d turned me was so its healing compounds could work their magic. That same idea had to be enough now. Had to be.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, ran my hands under the water, and scrubbed until I was clean. It felt almost wrong to be washing the blood away, but I couldn’t bear to look at it for another moment. Then I drifted outside again like a phantom; bit my lip, stopped myself just before my teeth could slice the skin open. I tried to listen, but there was too much all around me. Too many voices, beeps, noises… and those damn lights, searing into my brain.
Somewhere far away, I heard a clock strike the hour. I didn’t care which one it was. We should have been in Schaffhausen by now. Should have been laughing and joking, climbing into bed and looking forward to the next day. That seemed a million years away now.
A nurse emerged from the far end of the corridor. I ran over.
“Is she alright?” I asked. “Hanna Bernstein. Please…”
The nurse met my eyes. Her expression spoke louder than any words she might have muttered.
My knees folded underneath me and I crashed to the floor.
*
How could I have ever felt tired? I’d never been more awake, and yet more distant, in my whole life. I was a passenger within my own body. It simply went through the motions of what it needed to do to keep standing and breathing. Everything Hanna would never do again.
The hospital called Abigail. As Hanna's cousin, she was the next of kin. She went in first, face ashen, eyes blazing with tears. After a few minutes, which felt more like an age, she poked her head around the door and waved me over.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I walked as though I were wading through water. Down hallways, under fluorescent strips, each step closed that awful distance. Then we emerged into a side room, and it took all my strength to stay upright.
Hanna was lying on a metal table in the middle of the floor. But it didn’t look like her. She was naturally pale anyway, being a redhead as well as a vampire, but now her skin was waxy and pallid. She had been cleaned, quickly: I still saw the faint residue of blood on her lips and around her scalp. Her eyes were open, her mouth slightly agape. And her glasses were gone.
I spotted them on a nearby shelf, and put them back on her nose. I knew it was stupid. The doctors would take them off again when they moved her to the morgue, but I couldn’t bear to see her without her glasses.
Oh, God, the morgue. I imagined this body in the shape of my turner, my best friend, lying in a tiny fridge with a tag on her toe. The coffin before the actual coffin.
“What the Hell happened?” Abigail asked in a cracked voice. “They told me you were attacked by some homeless guy?”
“Yeah. Pretty much,” I muttered. “She was… trying to protect me.”
Abigail screwed her eyes shut.
“Why didn’t they take her to intensive care?” I whispered.
“There was no point.”
“Was she… well, dead on arrival?”
Abigail swallowed. “Not quite. Comatose. But by the time they got here in here, did a brain scan, there was no activity left. She’d gone into cardiac arrest.”
The flat, cool way she spoke hurt more than I was expecting. Abigail was a nurse, too. She had seen her share of terrible things. Now, that expertise – that knowledge which she could cling to for an anchor – braided itself with the shock and horror of seeing her own relative lifeless on the slab. It reminded me, as though I’d swallowed ice, that I had no logic of my own to ground me. I was rootless, suspended over an abyss as deep and black as the Bodensee.
Abigail put her arms around me, and I finally broke. I hadn’t spoken to her in five years, but it didn’t matter. We just held each other and wept.
I refused to watch when Hanna was wheeled away. That last image of her was too confronting. I couldn’t let it get purchase on me yet. Maybe this was all just a horrendous nightmare. Maybe, if I pinched myself enough, blinked hard enough, I’d open my eyes in a hotel room, go next door and hear her getting ready for the day, singing Fleetwood Mac under her breath.
But it didn’t happen. It would never happen. Hanna was dead.
The very thought of the sun sickened me. When it next rose, everything would become real. I thought of the two of us sitting in the airport, eating that pizza, sipping that coffee. It had been the last time, and we hadn’t known.
Abigail drove me back to her house in Donaueshingen, and offered to let me sleep on the couch. I didn’t protest. There was no point of being afraid about staying in Germany anymore. The danger had found us, and now was locked away.
I never wanted to see that bastard again. I half-hoped the police had put Lukas in a south-facing cell, so there was no chance he could escape the sun when it streamed through the window. Let him rot. Let him burn. It would be the end if it touched him.
Well, he’d wanted it all to stop, hadn’t he?
My own callousness stunned me. Not once in my life had I wished ill upon anyone. But now… How many times could Lukas hurt us? He had dug his own grave. Time for him to lie in it. I wasn’t about to do anything to try and help him or defend him. Not anymore.
Abigail sat with me, her husband hovering nearby, with the baby in his arms. The sight of the kid tore me even harder. He had the red Bernstein hair.
That made a new stone drop in my stomach. Abigail was Hanna’s cousin, but the vampirism hadn’t come down her side of the family. She hadn’t even known the truth of what Hanna was. She’d always assumed it was a strange skin condition and nothing more. Hanna had been the last one in the direct venom line: the heir to the legacy, holder of over two centuries’ worth of knowledge.
And now, in the course of a single night, it was ended forever.
My brain refused to let me think too deeply. It took too much energy. I just sat like a mannequin, my heart numbed, aching with loss. I stared out of the window as the sun broke the horizon in a blaze of red. Everything looked red now. Even the leaves on the trees were like blood. When I wandered through town, the colourful houses which lined my childhood streets seemed garish and washed out. It was all wrong. So damn wrong.
Since it wasn’t just assault now, but manslaughter too, the police came to see me again. They told me that Lukas had been transferred to a psychiatric ward and isolated. Apparently, he was suspected of having some kind of infectious disease. I heard the word rabies being thrown around. I was whisked to the hospital to have shots, and I endured them without blinking. Even the needles sliding into my skin felt far away.
The result came back clear, as I knew it would. Venom never showed up on conventional lab tests.
My planned week in Donaueschingen turned into two, as we waited for the coroner to release Hanna’s body. I sat with Abigail and helped her to plan the funeral. My parents arrived a few days later. I ghosted through the hours, letting each night transform into the next without pause. Every tick of the second hand on my watch pierced my ears. Each one was another slice of time between then and now.
I saw Hanna's face in front of me. Had it been quick? I hoped so. It looked like it was; how hard she’d gone down, how she hit the ground and simply didn’t move. Had there been a moment when she’d realised the end was coming? Or had it all just blinked out, like someone turning off a lightbulb?
The day of the funeral came. I changed into a suit which Mum had brought from London, rolled the coffin out of the hearse, and balanced it on my shoulder. The aisle was a never-ending road of stone. This plain box I deposited at the front of the chapel was too small. It was a stupid notion – of course she fitted perfectly inside it. Too perfectly. Those six planes of wood with a mound of flowers piled on the lid… Was that all she was worth?
Then I heard the music start to play. It was only a recording, but it turned loose every tear which I’d been unable to shed.
While My Guitar Gently Weeps.
The hospital called Abigail. As Hanna's cousin, she was the next of kin. She went in first, face ashen, eyes blazing with tears. After a few minutes, which felt more like an age, she poked her head around the door and waved me over.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I walked as though I were wading through water. Down hallways, under fluorescent strips, each step closed that awful distance. Then we emerged into a side room, and it took all my strength to stay upright.
Hanna was lying on a metal table in the middle of the floor. But it didn’t look like her. She was naturally pale anyway, being a redhead as well as a vampire, but now her skin was waxy and pallid. She had been cleaned, quickly: I still saw the faint residue of blood on her lips and around her scalp. Her eyes were open, her mouth slightly agape. And her glasses were gone.
I spotted them on a nearby shelf, and put them back on her nose. I knew it was stupid. The doctors would take them off again when they moved her to the morgue, but I couldn’t bear to see her without her glasses.
Oh, God, the morgue. I imagined this body in the shape of my turner, my best friend, lying in a tiny fridge with a tag on her toe. The coffin before the actual coffin.
“What the Hell happened?” Abigail asked in a cracked voice. “They told me you were attacked by some homeless guy?”
“Yeah. Pretty much,” I muttered. “She was… trying to protect me.”
Abigail screwed her eyes shut.
“Why didn’t they take her to intensive care?” I whispered.
“There was no point.”
“Was she… well, dead on arrival?”
Abigail swallowed. “Not quite. Comatose. But by the time they got here in here, did a brain scan, there was no activity left. She’d gone into cardiac arrest.”
The flat, cool way she spoke hurt more than I was expecting. Abigail was a nurse, too. She had seen her share of terrible things. Now, that expertise – that knowledge which she could cling to for an anchor – braided itself with the shock and horror of seeing her own relative lifeless on the slab. It reminded me, as though I’d swallowed ice, that I had no logic of my own to ground me. I was rootless, suspended over an abyss as deep and black as the Bodensee.
Abigail put her arms around me, and I finally broke. I hadn’t spoken to her in five years, but it didn’t matter. We just held each other and wept.
I refused to watch when Hanna was wheeled away. That last image of her was too confronting. I couldn’t let it get purchase on me yet. Maybe this was all just a horrendous nightmare. Maybe, if I pinched myself enough, blinked hard enough, I’d open my eyes in a hotel room, go next door and hear her getting ready for the day, singing Fleetwood Mac under her breath.
But it didn’t happen. It would never happen. Hanna was dead.
The very thought of the sun sickened me. When it next rose, everything would become real. I thought of the two of us sitting in the airport, eating that pizza, sipping that coffee. It had been the last time, and we hadn’t known.
Abigail drove me back to her house in Donaueshingen, and offered to let me sleep on the couch. I didn’t protest. There was no point of being afraid about staying in Germany anymore. The danger had found us, and now was locked away.
I never wanted to see that bastard again. I half-hoped the police had put Lukas in a south-facing cell, so there was no chance he could escape the sun when it streamed through the window. Let him rot. Let him burn. It would be the end if it touched him.
Well, he’d wanted it all to stop, hadn’t he?
My own callousness stunned me. Not once in my life had I wished ill upon anyone. But now… How many times could Lukas hurt us? He had dug his own grave. Time for him to lie in it. I wasn’t about to do anything to try and help him or defend him. Not anymore.
Abigail sat with me, her husband hovering nearby, with the baby in his arms. The sight of the kid tore me even harder. He had the red Bernstein hair.
That made a new stone drop in my stomach. Abigail was Hanna’s cousin, but the vampirism hadn’t come down her side of the family. She hadn’t even known the truth of what Hanna was. She’d always assumed it was a strange skin condition and nothing more. Hanna had been the last one in the direct venom line: the heir to the legacy, holder of over two centuries’ worth of knowledge.
And now, in the course of a single night, it was ended forever.
My brain refused to let me think too deeply. It took too much energy. I just sat like a mannequin, my heart numbed, aching with loss. I stared out of the window as the sun broke the horizon in a blaze of red. Everything looked red now. Even the leaves on the trees were like blood. When I wandered through town, the colourful houses which lined my childhood streets seemed garish and washed out. It was all wrong. So damn wrong.
Since it wasn’t just assault now, but manslaughter too, the police came to see me again. They told me that Lukas had been transferred to a psychiatric ward and isolated. Apparently, he was suspected of having some kind of infectious disease. I heard the word rabies being thrown around. I was whisked to the hospital to have shots, and I endured them without blinking. Even the needles sliding into my skin felt far away.
The result came back clear, as I knew it would. Venom never showed up on conventional lab tests.
My planned week in Donaueschingen turned into two, as we waited for the coroner to release Hanna’s body. I sat with Abigail and helped her to plan the funeral. My parents arrived a few days later. I ghosted through the hours, letting each night transform into the next without pause. Every tick of the second hand on my watch pierced my ears. Each one was another slice of time between then and now.
I saw Hanna's face in front of me. Had it been quick? I hoped so. It looked like it was; how hard she’d gone down, how she hit the ground and simply didn’t move. Had there been a moment when she’d realised the end was coming? Or had it all just blinked out, like someone turning off a lightbulb?
The day of the funeral came. I changed into a suit which Mum had brought from London, rolled the coffin out of the hearse, and balanced it on my shoulder. The aisle was a never-ending road of stone. This plain box I deposited at the front of the chapel was too small. It was a stupid notion – of course she fitted perfectly inside it. Too perfectly. Those six planes of wood with a mound of flowers piled on the lid… Was that all she was worth?
Then I heard the music start to play. It was only a recording, but it turned loose every tear which I’d been unable to shed.
While My Guitar Gently Weeps.
*
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I was in my own bed, in my flat in Finsbury, a stone’s throw from the Museum of London. Traffic trundled by outside: car horns honking, pedestrians chattering. I heard it all and paid no attention. It was just a wall of noise.
I flung back the duvet and got dressed, in the same clothes I’d worn the day before and tossed to the floor. There were things I had to do.
I’d returned from Germany with my parents a couple of nights ago. We hadn’t stuck around for long after Hanna was buried. The mere thought of staying there when I knew she was lying under the earth… It twisted my stomach and stabbed itself through my entire body like a lance. Like she’d done in all situations, I had to keep breathing, and find something to focus on. One step at a time.
Abigail would be coming soon, with house clearers, to empty her flat here in London. But she knew I’d been Hanna’s best friend, her rock here. She had said I could take anything which I wanted to keep. And I also knew there were some things which nobody else could find. I needed to fetch them, and put them safely away.
I grabbed the largest backpack I owned: the one which had seen me through the Danube Cycle Trail when I was a teenager. Then I climbed into my car and drove past Hyde Park, into Kensington. I threw a glance at the Imperial College as I passed it. Hanna had studied her masters there. She should have been starting her PhD in a fortnight.
I reached her accommodation and let myself in with the spare key. As always, it was meticulously tidy. Aside from a faint layer of dust which had settled over everything, the entire place was spotless. Her diplomas hung in frames above the TV, beside shelves crammed with medical texts, in both German and English. The cuckoo clock from her kitchen back in Donausechingen hooted in the hallway. And propped in the corner, near the couch, was her guitar.
I moved quickly. I didn’t want to stay a moment longer than I needed to. The sight of the empty chairs and sound of silence were too much. I would have taken the overbearing details and cacophony any day over this.
I lifted down the cuckoo clock, picked up the guitar, and placed them in my car. Those were the only everyday possessions which spoke to me. I had memories of both: happy times, a reflection of who Hanna had been, beyond just a name. But with those done, it was time to turn my attention to the more pressing matters.
I opened the refrigerator. Sure enough, tucked right at the back, were two transfusion bags, full of blood. Hanna would have stolen them from the hospital at the end of her shifts, to save drinking from humans. It was how I’d always taken my fill, too. Now I’d have to fetch the packs myself, without her. I’d need to break into the storage units, take enough for a couple of months, freeze them where nobody could see.
Unease writhed in my belly, but I forced it down, and placed the bags into my backpack. Then I entered the bedroom, undid the combination padlock on the nightstand drawer, and pulled out the safe from within. It was only small, but heavy: made of thick steel. And inside it lay the most invaluable thing in the entire flat: the 18th century book which contained every piece of vampirism knowledge.
I hesitated as I pictured it: such a small object, covers cracked and pages yellowed, written in nine different hands as it was passed through the family. Like Hanna herself, it was so unassuming.
And now, it had come to me. The one notion I never thought I’d deal with. But I was the only one with Hanna’s venom in my veins. I wasn’t worthy enough to be her successor, I never had been. But I would be its caretaker for now. I would guard it with my life.
The safe went into the backpack, alongside the blood. Then I lingered in the doorway, and looked over my shoulder for the last time.
“Auf Wiedersehen, Libelle,” I said softly, then locked up, and left the key where I’d found it.
As I prepared to drive off, I caught sight of my hand on the wheel, and let my eyes stray down to my wrist. The scar looked more noticeable than before: a thin silvery line, only a few inches long, slightly curved. It had hurt so much when I’d gone through the final transformation. For a horrible moment, I’d thought Hanna would turn me back into a human. But she hadn’t. She’d bitten me again, and instead of sucking out the venom she’d used to turn me, she sent another final shot of it into my system. Then the wings had broken through; my senses flew into overdrive. I had become exactly like her.
There had been no prouder moment. I had come of age that day, in more ways than one. No sense of freedom could ever equal the one which she gave me.
An idea leapt fully formed into my mind. I didn’t even pause to ponder about whether it was a good one.
I followed the traffic to Piccadilly Circus, and drove until I spotted a tattoo studio. Then I parked up, and, unwilling to leave the book in the car, I shouldered the backpack and headed inside.
“Good morning,” a heavily-pierced girl smiled from behind the desk. “What can we do for you?”
“Hast du – Sorry. Do you have any slots today?” I asked.
She turned to a computer and scrolled through a diary.
“I should be free this afternoon, at one,” she said. “What are you thinking of? Not anything big? I’ll probably have to book you in later for that.”
“No, nothing big,” I said, and laid my wrist on the counter. “Could you please give me just a little something here? Right next to this scar. Only a few inches long.”
The girl smiled. “No problem at all. That size will only take half an hour or so. What would you like?”
I sighed, and let a tiny grin trace my lips. Ja, this was definitely the right thing to do.
“A dragonfly.”
I flung back the duvet and got dressed, in the same clothes I’d worn the day before and tossed to the floor. There were things I had to do.
I’d returned from Germany with my parents a couple of nights ago. We hadn’t stuck around for long after Hanna was buried. The mere thought of staying there when I knew she was lying under the earth… It twisted my stomach and stabbed itself through my entire body like a lance. Like she’d done in all situations, I had to keep breathing, and find something to focus on. One step at a time.
Abigail would be coming soon, with house clearers, to empty her flat here in London. But she knew I’d been Hanna’s best friend, her rock here. She had said I could take anything which I wanted to keep. And I also knew there were some things which nobody else could find. I needed to fetch them, and put them safely away.
I grabbed the largest backpack I owned: the one which had seen me through the Danube Cycle Trail when I was a teenager. Then I climbed into my car and drove past Hyde Park, into Kensington. I threw a glance at the Imperial College as I passed it. Hanna had studied her masters there. She should have been starting her PhD in a fortnight.
I reached her accommodation and let myself in with the spare key. As always, it was meticulously tidy. Aside from a faint layer of dust which had settled over everything, the entire place was spotless. Her diplomas hung in frames above the TV, beside shelves crammed with medical texts, in both German and English. The cuckoo clock from her kitchen back in Donausechingen hooted in the hallway. And propped in the corner, near the couch, was her guitar.
I moved quickly. I didn’t want to stay a moment longer than I needed to. The sight of the empty chairs and sound of silence were too much. I would have taken the overbearing details and cacophony any day over this.
I lifted down the cuckoo clock, picked up the guitar, and placed them in my car. Those were the only everyday possessions which spoke to me. I had memories of both: happy times, a reflection of who Hanna had been, beyond just a name. But with those done, it was time to turn my attention to the more pressing matters.
I opened the refrigerator. Sure enough, tucked right at the back, were two transfusion bags, full of blood. Hanna would have stolen them from the hospital at the end of her shifts, to save drinking from humans. It was how I’d always taken my fill, too. Now I’d have to fetch the packs myself, without her. I’d need to break into the storage units, take enough for a couple of months, freeze them where nobody could see.
Unease writhed in my belly, but I forced it down, and placed the bags into my backpack. Then I entered the bedroom, undid the combination padlock on the nightstand drawer, and pulled out the safe from within. It was only small, but heavy: made of thick steel. And inside it lay the most invaluable thing in the entire flat: the 18th century book which contained every piece of vampirism knowledge.
I hesitated as I pictured it: such a small object, covers cracked and pages yellowed, written in nine different hands as it was passed through the family. Like Hanna herself, it was so unassuming.
And now, it had come to me. The one notion I never thought I’d deal with. But I was the only one with Hanna’s venom in my veins. I wasn’t worthy enough to be her successor, I never had been. But I would be its caretaker for now. I would guard it with my life.
The safe went into the backpack, alongside the blood. Then I lingered in the doorway, and looked over my shoulder for the last time.
“Auf Wiedersehen, Libelle,” I said softly, then locked up, and left the key where I’d found it.
As I prepared to drive off, I caught sight of my hand on the wheel, and let my eyes stray down to my wrist. The scar looked more noticeable than before: a thin silvery line, only a few inches long, slightly curved. It had hurt so much when I’d gone through the final transformation. For a horrible moment, I’d thought Hanna would turn me back into a human. But she hadn’t. She’d bitten me again, and instead of sucking out the venom she’d used to turn me, she sent another final shot of it into my system. Then the wings had broken through; my senses flew into overdrive. I had become exactly like her.
There had been no prouder moment. I had come of age that day, in more ways than one. No sense of freedom could ever equal the one which she gave me.
An idea leapt fully formed into my mind. I didn’t even pause to ponder about whether it was a good one.
I followed the traffic to Piccadilly Circus, and drove until I spotted a tattoo studio. Then I parked up, and, unwilling to leave the book in the car, I shouldered the backpack and headed inside.
“Good morning,” a heavily-pierced girl smiled from behind the desk. “What can we do for you?”
“Hast du – Sorry. Do you have any slots today?” I asked.
She turned to a computer and scrolled through a diary.
“I should be free this afternoon, at one,” she said. “What are you thinking of? Not anything big? I’ll probably have to book you in later for that.”
“No, nothing big,” I said, and laid my wrist on the counter. “Could you please give me just a little something here? Right next to this scar. Only a few inches long.”
The girl smiled. “No problem at all. That size will only take half an hour or so. What would you like?”
I sighed, and let a tiny grin trace my lips. Ja, this was definitely the right thing to do.
“A dragonfly.”