Intro and Chapter One

 

INTRODUCTION: IN THE COMPANY OF WEREWOLVES        

Watching them sit, eyes following my every move, it’s hard to remember that they’re werewolves. Using the “standard” definition, they are humans that have been bitten by a werewolf and turned into one of the pack. I pace evenly, trying to forget about the enemies that watch me. Vampires and werewolves are mortal enemies, and yet I’ve been led here like a dog on a leash. I could kill every werewolf in this clearing if it weren’t for the vampire standing in front of me.

            Vampires, in this world at least, are cold, thirsty, reserved creatures who are swifter than humans and werewolves, though wolves come close to us in speed. We have amazing senses and sharp fangs, and bloodvenom that can kill any animal and turn any human into one of us. If it weren’t for the vampire standing in front of me, I would have been ashamed at being so vulnerable in the company of werewolves. But the vampire standing in front of me – Cedar – is staring at me like I’m perfect.

            The werewolves, glaring at me under the shadow of the trees in this clearing, speak to the vampire now, in unison as one: “Why have you made this one immortal?” He has no answer, this person who turned me into the likes of him. “Why?” the pack repeats impatiently. The glorious vampire glares at them before saying, “I have…taken a liking to her. After observing her, I noticed qualities that would transfer quite well in immortality.” His statement is simple but strong; amazing how I hadn’t known that he was following me, even if he is a vampire. “Like what?” The pack rumbles. He avoids their icy amber stares; his grey eyes flicker with a light I hadn’t yet encountered. My empathy reads it as pride. “She has psychic empathy, dominant in even her mortal time, and strong senses,” he explained, and the wolves roar and step backwards – in fear. “An empathic young vampire? Do you realize the potential?” The pack growls. “She is stronger than us all,” my vampire replies gravely.

            I am Hazel Leaf, and I am now a vampire. The life I had before my turning does not matter anymore, but it’s a part of me still, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. My family consisted of four others – my mother, father, and two older sisters. Bethany was out of the house at eighteen years old, likely working the streets. Cynthia, however, stayed until twenty. She had been packing up to leave when I was turned at fourteen years old. My family was loving on the outside, but internally we were broken. Constant fights between my mother and Bethany before she left terrified Cynthia and I. We therefore did whatever was asked of us to avoid setting her off. I hated this practice – being the youngest was hard enough – but Cynthia and I held the family together as best we could, since Bethany and my father only caused problems. My father came home from work tired and frustrated one evening in particular. My mother had an already short temper. They fought. My father left the house and came back drunk. They fought more, and he slept on the couch in the basement. My mother cried in her room alone. That was an example of most of the nights in my house from the time I was eight years old. Growing up in a house like that forced me to grow up hopeful, optimistic. It made me trusting to a fault, like maybe anyone who passed by might change my life for the better. I was, at fourteen, very naïve. No one taught me safety. No one taught me love, trust, and acceptance. That is, until Cedar came along.

            My turning occurred three nights ago, on a cloudy night. The vampire entered my bedroom at midnight, and gently explained to me why he was going to turn me. I had a gift, he informed me. The gift of empathy, though I’d never considered it a gift, more of a bittersweet curse. He told me what I’d already discovered: I could “feel” others’ feelings and sense their awareness, when familiar. This was a rare vampire quality, he said, one that would transfer well into immortality, especially when it was so prevalent in my human years. He told me of the bloodlust, but assured me that I would be fine. I believed him, young and naïve as I was, so starved for attention from anyone, anything. And so I let him turn me.

            The original slash of pain gave way to nothingness almost instantly. I felt his eagerness at the taste of blood, but my own feelings were shrouded in mist. He used his fangs to slit his wrist, and pressed it to my mouth. I drank without feeling, apathetic and unaware for once in my life, and the red drips splattered on the dark bedspread as I gave up and sank into blackness and shadows.

            I awoke two days later – yesterday – surrounded by the werewolves. My first reaction was anger. Cedar had taken me here, while I was unconscious and ignorant of supernatural customs? I’d adjusted to the scene slowly before reading Cedar’s feelings: fear, perhaps of not being accepted. He was afraid for me. My wavering trust blossomed into something that resembled love.

            Then the questioning began. “Who is she?” The pack had thundered. “Where does she come from?” They had kept the interrogatives up all night. This morning, the pack asked, “Why?” Cedar didn’t answer until nightfall. His words were carefully chosen and spoken gingerly when he finally answered. “Qualities that would transfer quite well,” he’d said in part, just as he’d told me. But then he told the pack my secret, and they recoiled, afraid of me.

            Now, as I stare at Cedar and he stares at the wolves, I ask my first question: “Why are the wolves here?” Cedar doesn’t answer immediately. “Um…,” he stalls. I’m not getting a response from him, so I turn to the wolves. “Well?” Their answer is immediate. “Vampires must be accepted by the werewolf pack when turned. We decide whether new vampires are a danger to us or not,” they reply. “Am I accepted then? May I leave?” I question. I’d almost expected a no, based on their reaction to my gift. But Cedar then says, “Yes. With me.”

            Much as Cedar loves me, it’s more pride than romance. I am his first turning, and to be accepted by the wolves is a great accomplishment. I turn to him as we walk from the wolves’ den and say, “Cedar, I won’t walk in your footsteps. I won’t be a social vampire. I’ll be a loner. Hazel, the empathic.” That’s when Cedar attacked me, his reasons still unclear as I am still hazy from my turning. Without thinking, I shove him into a tree and run. This would be the last time I saw Cedar Tristifico, my vampire, for a long while.

CHAPTER ONE: TRISTIFICO AND LACRIMOSA

            I raced through the forest, leaping at a tall buck as I ran, leaving my personality and my sorrow behind. I drank from the deer, not waiting for anyone. They didn’t follow me anyway. Like I’d told Cedar, I wasn’t normal – I didn’t choose one mate to spend my existence with, and I didn’t drink from or kill humans. I was a loner – Hazel the empathic, drinking from animals and killing humans sparingly. The strange little vampire, turned at age fourteen – young, like my forever-fifteen vampire Cedar Tristifico. Tristifico – Latin for sadness, like lacrimosa – Latin for grieving. I indeed was sad and grieving for the loss of Cedar. How ironic that the one who caused me such grief would be the perfect description of my emotional climate. For an empathic vampire, sorrow was a constant companion; the grief was new and unexpected. I was accustomed to most emotions; in the year after I left Cedar, I’d lived among humans. Interesting creatures, like they’d been for me as an empathic human a year before. Sorrow, excitement, pure happiness, spite - none the same as feeling it firsthand, however. Even if the empathy was close enough. Feeling others’ emotions is never the same as a firsthand feeling – merely a shadow of the wall, the tree, the figure. The shadowed feelings tended to give me headaches often – as a vampire as well as a human, they attacked from within, leaving me with incurable, seemingly inexplicable migraines that I had to learn to cope with. Unlike normal, regular, human head pains, these didn’t go away with medication. There was no medication for the stressed. The shadowed feelings also tended to overtake my own, until I didn’t know whether the feelings were truly mine.

            The firsthand grief and sorrow was nearly too much to bear on its own; combined with the emotions of every being within a few mile radius, the emotions were weighing me down to the point where I could barely function. Living among humans was, with the exception of the empathy, easier than admitting to vampirism. Living in a coven would, I imagined, tie me down. Here, at least, I was on my own.      

            Each day that passed, the more I longed for Cedar, the vampire I’d run from as an unaware young vampire. In reality, I was still unaware – unaware and alone. The humans didn’t like me very much, and I spent most of my days in the forest, hunting or running or lying in the meadows – where I didn’t have to hide.

            I’d lived among humans for a year when, finally, I found Cedar again. I was hunting, close to my favorite clearing by the river, when I saw him. He was just as beautiful as I remembered, but sorrow weighed heavily on the features of his face so that he looked a few years older. He froze when he saw me, and I walked up to him without hesitation and embraced him. “I love you,” I whispered. After one frozen instant, in which I was certain he was going to push me away or run, he returned my loving action and replied, “As I love you.” I was whole again.

            This chance meeting was almost too convenient – what were the chances of hunting in the same forest with someone you haven’t seen in at least a year? Though I had only just recently reached the conclusion that I wanted to spend my existence with him, he took me to live with him, in a sprawling mansion that he’d bought shortly after our “split”. I was shocked at the sheer size of the building and I didn’t notice him hesitate before leaning in to kiss me.

            “Wow,” I breathed when he’d finished, and he smirked. “This is likely the biggest house I’ve ever seen. How did you pay for this?” Cedar grimaced. “A bet, basically. A bribe,” he informed me vaguely, and wouldn’t say any more when I pressed him to elaborate. For some reason, I picked up on a guilty feeling – anticipation – like he was lying to me. “Cedar,” I said slowly. “Yes, love?” He turned from the house and looked at me, waiting for me to speak again. “Are you lying about something?” I asked softly, keeping tabs on his feelings. Another hesitation – a decision – and an answer. “No.”

            I still felt the burning guilt eating away at him as if it were a monster, fangs bared, chewing his life away. His emotional well-being couldn’t be my concern, though, as it was for those I loved. Could it be that I no longer loved him, this lover-turned-liar vampire Cedar? I was no longer as sure. “Well? Will you live here with me, Hazel, my vampire, my love?” Cedar’s eyes burned; he did love me, I would feel that. But did he love me enough to tell me the truth instead of a lie? I hesitated, repaying his multiple favors, and looked at him. Still feeling his guilt, I nodded slowly, trying to foresee the consequences. I never was much of a clairvoyant. “Are you sure? It’s not like we’ll have much company,” Cedar said, his voice betraying his sudden longing to protect me from whatever he was being secretive about. “Hazel, I love you. I would rather die than – ” “Stop, Cedar,” I interrupted. “You’re lying to me. But I love you to the point where I’ll leave that alone for now. What you were going to say was you would rather die than hurt me. That doesn’t mean you won’t.”

            That night – the first time I slept beside Cedar in a year – I slept less than the usual four hours. Vampires needed less sleep than humans did, but still needed sleep. I’d be tired in the morning. As Cedar dozed comfortably, I cried. Why had I let myself love him? He turned me into something that others instinctively cringed away from, and then I ran away from him; the result of being too trusting. Now, there I was, completely involved with him again, and crying for letting myself do this. “Are you okay?” Cedar murmured. I’d woken him up in my period of extreme misery. “Fine,” I replied, sniffling as the tears of red-tinged sorrow leaked onto the pillow.

            If Cedar truly loved me, he wouldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be having these feelings of betrayal. I told him so. “Oh…Hazel…you know…I remember about the empathy. The wolf pack – ” Suddenly, Cedar’s words were cut off by strangled breathing. “I can’t say. I swore I wouldn’t say. But it’s got something to do with the pack. And I promised them something. But love is a stronger promise, and I won’t break it. Love is a deeper faith, an immortal river – forever.” As I listened to those words, I began to cry again, though not only at the beauty of the words. No longer would I have to worry about the lies. I would protect him from the danger of the pack. “I love you, too,” I whispered, and I drifted into sleep.

            When I woke, Cedar was gone. “Hazel,” he called weakly from outside. “Help me, please.” I sat up gently and winced. “Help,” he called again. “Cedar? Where are you?” I called groggily. “The backyard,” he said before groaning in pain. Trying to block his feelings so I wouldn’t be paralyzed by pain as well, I raced through the house and out the back door, pausing only when I saw him.

            He was soaked in dark red bloodvenom. It still poured from some cuts; these were the ones that were the most gruesome. “Werewolves,” he croaked. I was speechless with horror. No words could describe his injuries fully. From head to toe, splatters of bloodvenom and werewolf blood covered his clothing. His head was bleeding profusely from a gash above his eye. His chest was heaving with shallow breaths. “Hazel. Bite me. Save me,” he breathed, and I saw the gash in his neck, nearly cutting his windpipe to the point of no return. “Bite me!” he screamed. I lunged forward and bit his wrist, slit my own, and pressed it to his pleading lips. He drank slowly, barely managing to swallow, but it was working.

            The wounds, so life-threatening before, were stitched together. His neck wound, so close to severing his head, was already reattaching itself. Within minutes, all of Cedar’s gruesome wounds were closed. He smiled. “Thank you,” he said simply. “Sure,” I answered in a daze. I was wide-awake, and still horrified from what the werewolf pack had done to Cedar.

            “They’re not normal lycanthropes – humans that can change to an animal at will – but they’re more dangerous to vampires than humans. If a lycanthrope – werewolf – bites a vampire, the wound won’t close. It’s the only thing that can ‘kill’ a vampire, because, technically, we’re – both species are - already dead,” Cedar explained to me. “If they’d bitten me, not even vampire bloodvenom would save me. They’re poisonous to us. I’d be forced into the eternal sleep.” I looked at Cedar, my eyes brimming with tears. Sighing deeply, Cedar added, “They broke the agreement by attacking me, whether they realize that or not. I can tell you about our exchange now.” I moved closer to him, still lying on the long, shaded grass, weak from shock. “After you ran, the wolves trapped me. Their alpha went back to his human form and told me this: If I were to break this promise, this promise to bring you to them, I would be killed. Not to offend you or scare you, but by running away from me, you convinced them – however false – that you had something to hide.” Cedar’s eyes were glazed with worry. “I agreed. I tracked you. I brought you here, to where the werewolves once lived in human form. But seeing you again…I love you too much to betray you.” Me, being the long-suffering martyr, shouted “No!” There was no way he could die to protect me. I’d go willingly and let them destroy me. Just a bite would save his life and sanity. Cedar shook his head. “Yes. There is not a chance in hell that I’d betray you. You mean too much to me.” Love is a deeper faith. An immortal river. Forever. I recalled his whispered words from the night. “A deeper faith…,” I mused. “An immortal river.” But was love truly forever? I’d seen plenty of fights – breakups, divorces – to prove love wasn’t quite as immortal. It fades; sometimes it never returns. We love on different levels. Attraction, lust, love – all part of the experience. “Hazel? Let’s…return to the house,” Cedar said hesitantly. He was afraid to rouse me from my philosophical period of thought. I nodded. “Sure,” I replied, and bounded easily back to the house.

            Cedar had said he would rather die than betray me. This didn’t mean he had a choice in the matter, much like I’d pointed out when he said he didn’t want to hurt me. The wolves had two ways to kill me. They could hold Cedar to his word and kill him first. They could also ignore him and take me instead. I could stay the martyr or I could let him protect me. I growled under my breath. No way. I could take care of myself.

            I was silent throughout the day. We stayed inside for the majority of daylight, as the sun was unusually bright. At dusk, I walked out to the woods behind the house and began to think. The wolves knew where to find us here. At any time, they could wander here and kill – me, Cedar, or both of us – without our knowledge, barring my empathy (and therefore, awareness-sensing). It had been a while since I’d consciously used my empathy as a weapon of foreknowledge, however slight. I was able to, but I hadn’t had much practice. We could only hope that my ability was strong enough to sense them and give us a few minutes of preparation – if it came to that.

            Cedar had gone through the forest into a nearby human establishment. It was dangerous for us to be separated because of the threat of the wolves, but we’d needed to scope out the area, so to speak. I’d lived in Riverton – a town about twenty miles from the forest where I’d met Cedar. I didn’t know what town we were close to. We needed to know where we were. If the wolves became a threat – an immediate threat, anyway – we needed an escape plan.

            I sighed. I hated this, being separated from him. I hated putting him in danger – the situation was, of course, my fault. If I hadn’t been created, the wolves wouldn’t want me dead. Not that they had a concrete reason, anyway.

            Dusk fell and Cedar returned. “We’re in Gatesburg,” he announced, but I wasn’t listening. “Sh, quiet,” I cautioned. I could feel an abnormal, strong, shared feeling of murderous anticipation. I heard heavy breathing. “Wolves, three miles off and moving slowly,” I reported breathlessly. Stupid! We’d stayed too long. “Come on,” I said to Cedar. “Back to my old house.” The large house – bought with the money left to me by various relatives in death – would provide a good reclusive hideout until we thought of something more permanent. They hadn’t found me there before, and with luck, they wouldn’t find me there now. “Now!” I added when I felt Cedar’s hesitance. “No,” he said softly. Before I could ask why, he said, “They want to talk. Trust me.” And with horror clouding my thoughts, Cedar stepped forward. “Come!” He shouted at the trees. Five wolves moved into the yard behind the house.

            “We’ve come to inform you of our consent and approval of the young vampire Hazel, and to warn Cedar to keep his distance from potential vampires.” Instead of addressing each vampire in turn, the pack spoke as if neither of us were present. “That is our message,” the wolves said in unison as they backed into the forest. I stared after them, surprised that they would come all this way to relay such a short and simple message. “Cedar…,” I began. “Yes?” He replied, an edge to his voice. “How did you know they would talk?” I questioned, a tremor in my voice. That was just another secret he would keep from me. “Just werewolf – lycanthrope – nature,” he replied, grinning at me. “Let’s go inside.”

            While I didn’t truly trust Cedar’s explanation, I knew I mustn’t say more. He’d tell me in his own time, and if he didn’t, then I was probably better off not knowing. As we lay sleeping – well, he was sleeping – I lay thinking. The wolves had just surrendered the “fight” (dispute was more like it) to us. This meant they weren’t going to kill me – or, of a little more importance, Cedar, me being a martyr and all that – and we were in no immediate danger now. For a moment, pure joy threatened to overwhelm me, and I opened my empathy to allow Cedar’s peaceful, sleepy emotions calm me down. After a minute, I closed the hole and rolled over to face Cedar. “Hey,” I whispered as he awoke with a start. “Hey,” he mumbled back, confused and sleepy. I hesitated. I wanted to tell him I loved him; I wanted to ask about the lycanthrope prediction. Instead, I suggested we go into town. “Sure, baby, but why – oh, never mind. I suppose we should get an understanding of human nature; current human nature is a subject I’ve yet to study.” He smirked and put his arm around me, and I drifted into a dark, dream-ridden sleep.

            The wolves were stalking us. They crawled through the bushes, their long, sharp claws reaching out to us. Cedar stumbled and fell, and the wolves were upon him, tearing him limb from limb, and I screamed and leapt on their leader’s back; it was too late. Cedar was dead.           

            I awoke to frantic breathing. “Cedar!” I gasped. I scrambled to my feet and crouched instantly. Cedar wasn’t in bed; I sprinted through the house and into the backyard. The black-furred leader and twelve others stood facing one vampire. I walked up to stand with Cedar, barely controlling my rage at this turn of events. The leader said, “We’ve decided that you are on our property, our territory, as this land was a bribe. Since the deal has been broken on both sides, we can kill you both. Also –” But he never got the chance to finish, because I’d thrown myself at him. Barely avoiding snapping teeth, I bit through the black fur and growled in satisfaction when I heard the leader’s howl of pain. Two other wolves jumped to my sides and stared down at their injured leader. Breathing heavily, I snarled, “Don’t touch Cedar.” The two lycanthropes flanking me whined and turned human.

            The brown wolf, so animalistic just a moment before, was suddenly a tall, scarred human person. “My name is Jack,” he said, and I was astounded at the misery in his voice. “I was the deputy – second-in-command – to alpha Leonard. Now I’ll be alpha, and I assure you both, nothing of this nature will occur again.” Opening my spectrum slightly, I allowed his feelings to flood into me. He was overcome with grief, and he was telling the truth. “I must choose a deputy now, but my choice has been with me for years. We will proceed later. Peace, Hazel and Cedar.” “Peace,” I echoed faintly as Jack picked up his fallen alpha and led the pack into the woods. I didn’t notice Cedar limping towards me and grinning. “You killed our enemy. Safety engulfs us now.”

Author's Note

tell me anything I can add, anything I can get rid of, change, and basically just helpful reviews. No flaming is welcome, if you don't like it I don't want to know unless there's a specific reason in the writing.