DEAD SEED (AKA "Vampires Don't Exist")

TWELVE: A Little Bit of Hope

Aralyn stared in horror at what she had done. She didn't mean to kill him. She didn't think a vampire could be killed so easily.

But there he was, dead on the floor. She thought he was dead anyway. He wasn't moving. She felt a flutter of panic. Aimeric was going to be angry about this. Maybe. If she told him what Morgan had been trying to do, maybe he would be forgiving? But what if he didn't believe her?

She didn't know what to do. She needed help. There was only one thing she could think to do and that was to get Virgil. Stepping carefully around Morgan's bleeding body, she tiptoed out of the bedroom, peering out the door to make sure Aimeric hadn't returned yet. The hallway was empty. The house was quiet. She crept down the corridor to where she thought Virgil's room was.

She tapped on the door and whispered his name.

A moment later the door opened.

"Aralyn?" Virgil seemed surprised.

"I need your help," she said, eyes wide, "I think I killed Morgan."

+++++

"He's not dead."

"He's not?" Aralyn wasn't sure if she was disappointed or happy to hear that.

They were in the bathroom, Virgil leaning over Morgan to examine the wound in his chest.

"Unfortunately, no. A pair of scissors to the heart can't kill a vampire, even one as weak as Morgan. He'll be fine."

"Well, that's a relief," Aralyn said sarcastically.

"However, I can't imagine Aimeric will be pleased about this. Unless you had a good reason for it." Virgil looked at her questioningly. He seemed a lot better now. The gash on his cheek was completely scabbed over. Same with the cuts on his chest. The blood had been cleaned off as well.

"He got a little handsy."

"That's a good reason," Virgil replied. "Still, if you don't want to have to explain anything, we can do something about this."

"What can we do?"

"Wait here, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"What if Aimeric comes back? He's been gone a while already."

"He hasn't fed in a few days, he'll be out most of the night I'm sure. That's how he usually is when he hasn't eaten in a while anyway."

Aralyn wasn't so sure but she tried to be patient while she waited for Virgil. Morgan was still unconscious, blood soaking his shirt. Aralyn kicked his foot to make sure he wasn't faking.

Several minutes later, Virgil returned. He was carrying one of the prisoners, a man so weak he couldn't stand on his own though there weren't any visible wounds on him.

"What are you doing with him?" she asked.

"He's drunk," Virgil explained. "I forced half a bottle of hundred-proof down his throat and he's been starved and drained of half his blood so it's gone to him pretty quickly."

"What is this going to accomplish?"

"We're going to feed the rest of him to Morgan. The blood will help heal his wound and also make him drunk off his ass. There will be no sign of his wound if we change his clothes — unless Aimeric looks under his shirt, doubtful — and Aimeric will be furious with him for being drunk on the job so he won't have to question you. As long as you can hide your thoughts from him."

Aralyn hesitated, unsure. "I'll try."

"Even if you can't, he'll see what Morgan tried with you — the fault won't be yours, I'm sure of it."