Page 81 of We Were Eternal Once

I tuck it into the bag and return to the book. There was no title page, no author listed. I flip through several pages until a drawing stills my hand. It was an image of a face with its mouth open and two pointed teeth, dripping with blood.

I flip back to the first page and read:

Thou shall not suffer a sorceress to live - Exodus 22:18

Within this text are the secrets and true tellings of the paranormal entities that haunt this earth. They were sent by the Devil to send souls to his realm, and to take souls from our Holy Father. It is the duty of those of us with knowledge of this realm to vanquish these demons. It is the only way to prevent Hell on earth.

The book falls from my hands.

I flounder for explanation outside of confirmation that she was a hunter. I tear at my hair, I scratch gouges into my scalp and face. I scream into the night.

Zora is not my friend. She’d realized what I was and dug her way into my life. She was a liar, hiding her true identity from me. Hiding her true intent—to unearth the group of vampyrs in Paris and kill them all, just as they had Caterina’s maker.

I think of you strung up on a cross, the sun breaking over your beautiful face, melting it into a charred ruin. I imagine your screams, your voice a raw gargle as the sun destroys your vocal cords. The lips that I’d kissed more times than I could recall bursting, your skin melting and sliding off your face.

I picture every violent detail of your destruction, all because of me.

I am unworthy once more. You are right to keep your distance from me. I am just as ignorant and naive as Caterina claimed. I let a hunter into my life. I spent months with her, as she pretended to be my friend, blinding me to the truth of who she was.

Has she followed me home? Did she know where we live?

I can only hope she was more focused on Le Sang Bleu and the group of vampyrs there. Why settle for the two of us, when she could have the five of them? She could take them. I would give them all to spare you. It would be my version of distraction—feeding them to her while you and I fled.

Your silence would continue, I understand. I deserve that. Once more, I’ve put us in danger, built another box that was loaded onto a boat destined to sink.

This is why the five rules existed, why Le Sang Bleu had their own set of rules about avoiding humans. There was always risk, and that risk was not worth any reward.

What did I expect anyway? That I could eventually tell her what I was, and she’d willingly turn?

Stupid stupid stupid.

I chew on my nails until they break, tasting the blood under them from scratching myself. I run my fingertips over the gouges, but they’re mostly healed.

I could burn the book.

She’s probably memorized it. She’s from a long line of hunters—six before her. She was raised with the knowledge of vampyrs and hunting us. Destroying a book would not destroy the knowledge she’s had since she was a child.

I should keep the book, learn what they know of us. How much do other vampyrs know about the hunters? I try to recall what Le Sang Bleu said about the hunters, but I cannot. It’s another blank moment in my memory, a hole where information should be. Did they ever go into details about the hunters? Or was it a vague warning, the way I was warned of robbers and night creatures as a child?

I beat my temple with my closed fist as if it could shake a memory loose. Nothing comes.

I sink onto the ground, gathering my knees to my chest. I have no tears to shed, but I can sob. I can rock myself. I can curse myself and watch you burn in the sun over and over and over again.

I forget I am angry at you. I forget that you are the cause of my misery, that you drove me to this with your distance and isolation.

I forget, and instead my anger is at Zora.

I will do more than throw a few vases this time. I will do more than tear up a bedroom and throw out jewelry. I will make sure Zora has not told another hunter about me, or you.

I will keep us safe, and I will keep this secret from you.

Confrontation

“Have you been to the underground passages?” I ask Zora. She jumps, having not noticed my approach. There is no need to pretend to be human, is there? I might have dropped some defenses around Zora, but habit kept me as human-like as possible in public. I walked at the speed of a human, I did not sneak through the shadows. I did my best to look like I belonged.

Why bother now?

Zora puts a hand to her chest and sighs, shaking her head. “Melinoë! I did not hear you coming.”