Page 86 of We Were Eternal Once

Different.

But I could not trust her, not until she’d been remade. So I would meet her in the underground passage, and I would drain her nearly to death.

Then I would tell her everything while she was too weak to kill me. I’d tell her the truth of being a vampyr, about what her book and her family had wrong. If she still wanted to become like us, then I could turn her. If she showed any deception, if she showed any hesitation, I would…

I could not even think the word.

But it would be necessary, because it would be the only way to keep you safe. Her only options were eternal life or the darkness of death.

She would need to atone, of course. Her deceptions would be punished, but I trusted in time our friendship would return to what it had been. Once I knew I could trust her, once I knew you were safe.

I rise from my grave, swaying a bit at the heady rush. The promise of the evening awoke something in me I haven’t felt in a long time. My blood buzzes in my veins. I can’t recall the last time I felt this energized.

Perhaps this was exactly what I needed.

I linger before leaving the house. Should I tell you? Should I bring you along to witness? It would be the first of our kind I’d made, it feels like a momentous occasion. I go to your room only to find it empty.

I search our home, peering into every corner, to find no trace of you. Your scent lingers in all the rooms, you’d been here just this evening.

It is a sign, I think. Proof that I am ready to be separate from you, that I can start to untangle myself from your eternity. This would, at last, be a way to forge my own path. Not one following you, but one next to you, with Zora beside me.

I consider leaving you a note, but what would I say? I could not put the multitude of this decision into a few sentences. This would be something we spoke about in person, something we would discuss at length, perhaps while Zora slept.

I take my time heading to the tunnel. There are things I needed to prepare—a way to collect the dirt of Paris, a few humans for Zora to feed on once she wakes. She could use my grave those first few nights, until we found a space for her. Perhaps she would want to stay in Paris, perhaps she would want to leave once she awoke.

I did not know what her memories of this town were, or if she feared her family learning what she’d become.

I find two large male humans, full to the brim of blood, and compel them to follow me into the tunnel. They stand as silent guards at the entrance to the tunnels, to be summoned when Zora was ready to feed. Until then they’d keep us safe and free from prying eyes or thieves.

The tunnel stretched into silence, interrupted only by the humans’ breath. I strain for another heartbeat, for proof that Zora is here. I am greeted with nothing.

Would she not arrive?

I was so foolish. If she were lying, she wouldn’t meet me here again! She’d flee Paris, presumably back to her family to tell them where the vampyrs of Paris were. How could I be so stupid, so naive? I would hunt her down, I would kill her and her entire family. I could follow her as she led me right to them and free the world of the problem of the hunter. I’d burn their village, destroy any evidence they existed. I could find the names on the inside of her book, see if there were other names to follow.

My anger at Zora returns. I thrust my fist into the wall to disperse some of it. The limestone cracks and shudders, powder reigning from the ceiling. I frown at the wall—was it really that weak? Is this what supports the city of Paris?

Perhaps Paris will not fall metaphorically, as the empires before it, but physically, sinking into these hidden tunnels until there is nothing left but rubble.

I set to pacing, to think through my plan. I pace the length of the tunnel, considering what I am to do, when something catches my eye. There is something in the dead end of the tunnel, the one I’d cornered Zora in the previous evening.

Has she left a note? A message? Did she intend to meet me after all, but needed to get her human affairs in order first?

I strain my ears in the quiet tunnels once more, listening for any other life. Some things scurry in the walls. The two large human men remain immobile at the entrance, their steady breathing the only other sound.

Satisfied, I creep to the room.

A body lies face down in the middle of the room. It is small, wearing the worn clothing of a street urchin. I blink at it, following the dark brown hair that haloes around the body. I need to turn it over to see the face, but I know.

I know what I am looking at, even as my mind can not comprehend it.

“No,” I whisper.

“No,” I repeat, dropping to my knees next to the body. My hands shake as they reach for her, pushing her onto her back.

Zora’s dead, empty eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Her skin is pale, her lips blue and cracked with dried blood. She is stiff and cold.