The Survivors

Chapter Fifteen: Answers, pt. 2

Chapter 15, pt. 2

    "They told you of the nosferatu?" Anthony asked.  

  I nodded. "That you are one of them," I said.

    "You have heard the legends, then, of witches like Adelaide mating with the likes of me," he said.

    "Vieczy," I said.

    "That's not what we call ourselves, but yes," Anthony said.

    "What are you then?" I asked.

  "We call ourselves the Winters," he said, "as your family calls yourselves the Survivors."

  I wasn't following. "Winter is your surname," I said. "That's not a species."

    "Isn't it? The eretica are only able to hunt in autumn and spring. They hibernate, more or less, in the other two seasons," he said. "We are like that. We have a stronger desire to feed in winter, and so it is our namesake."

    "You mean murder," I said, my tone hostile. Ginny and Everett both stiffened.

    "It's more complicated than that," Anthony said.

    "Make it simple for me," I said.

    "We limit the damage as best we can," Anthony explained. "We take precautions. We live in California—a temperate climate year-round. Sometimes that can help us stave off the most intense urges," he said. "And we eat human food—mainly vegetables, of course. The chloroplasts in the green vegetables burn up and into our veins, and it gets into our eyes and turns them green, the same way blood would turn them red. It lets us blend in with humans."

    "But Everett's eyes just turned brown," I said, turning to him. I looked at those eyes. They were darker even than they had been the last time I saw them, almost a burgundy.

  "Because I wasn't eating enough human food since I was following you around," Everett said. "They start to fade."

    "They fade to brown?" I asked.

    "To red," he said. "They're naturally red, whether we drink blood or not. Brighter, certainly, if we do. Brown is just a stop along the way. Think color wheel." He smiled. His smile looked different with the darker eyes, but it was still just as pleasant.

    "Does that make you not need blood?" I was hoping he would say something reassuring like they didn't even like blood.

    "Of course we do," Mark shot. "We're just good about how we get it. We hunt the bad guys, drink donated blood when it will suffice, and learn to go without it for as long as possible."

    I was getting tense. "That doesn't make you dangerous?" I asked.

    Everett said, "We make sure we aren't dangerous to humans by not being around them when we're thirsty." They seemed to think they had me convinced that I was going to be okay with them now that they had explained themselves. Everett was the only one who could sense it wasn't that simple. He could feel what I could—us hanging by a thread.

    "So do you actually murder people?" I asked. They all hesitated.

    "Rarely," Anthony said frankly. I bit my lip. That was still too often for my taste. "You know, we thought you were one of us," he said.

  "What made you think that?" I gasped.

  "Your powers are similar to ours," he said. "You don't have a heartbeat. You aren't warm. And your eyes."

  "What about them?" I asked.

  Madeline spoke for the very first time. "They are like mine," she said. "The pretty violet," she said. "They thought it was blue contacts to cover red eyes. That's what I do." I realized her eyes were red for a reason. She hadn't learned to quench her thirst in moderation.