Crimson Born - Amy Patrick Page 0,20

heard the minister say. “The boy has taken care of it himself. Look there.”

That had me rolling toward the loft opening again, squinting into the bright sunshine to see what he was talking about.

Holding his wife close with one arm, the minister pointed with the other. I followed the line of sight from his fingertip to the spot in the Yoder’s yard where he pointed.

There, near the swing set where we’d played together as children, was a pile of ash.

What is that?

Even as the question popped into my mind, a dry heave rocked my belly.

You know what it is.

When Kannon had warned me to stay out of the sunlight, he hadn’t spelled out exactly what would happen if I didn’t.

Now I knew.

One of the village men stated the obvious as he inspected the charred vampire remains. “He exposed himself to the daylight.”

“It’s for the best,” one of the others said, and several heads nodded in agreement.

“He always was a good lad,” the minister said, giving an impromptu eulogy. “Perhaps a part of his soul still remained alongside the demon. He was still capable of remorse for the violence he committed. Now he is at rest.”

And now I was well and truly alone.

I had no family, no home. No community. No mode of transportation, no money. No job prospects for making money. I didn’t have even a high school diploma.

How was I going to live? A thought rose to the surface of my mind.

Maybe I shouldn’t.

Maybe I should do as Josiah had done. In my case it would be a preemptive measure instead of self-inflicted capital punishment. I hadn’t killed anyone—yet—but in a way, I was just as responsible for the deaths of his parents as he was.

If I hadn’t turned Josiah, they’d still be alive, and he wouldn’t have killed himself out of guilt.

I tried to imagine stepping out of the barn into the sunlight. There was no one who would miss me. When they found my ash pile, at least the members of the community would say I’d done the right thing.

Slowly, I extended one hand toward a ray of sunshine slanting inside the hayloft. As soon as the light fell on my skin, it sizzled—much more painful than it had been when I’d emerged from the culvert a few days ago.

Snatching my hand back into the shade, I watched in amazement as the bubbling skin repaired itself and the pain dissipated.

How had Josiah withstood it? How had he forced himself to stand in the sunlight until his body incinerated?

He hadn’t just wanted to die—he’d wanted to punish himself.

Deep inside of me, a tiny flame of self-preservation flickered into being.

Something in me rebelled at the idea of giving up on my life, no matter how bleak it might appear at the moment—and it was pretty bleak.

I remember thinking my life was over when I was turned, but it’s just the opposite, Kannon had said.

Could my life still have some purpose... even though I wasn’t “alive” anymore in the traditional sense?

There was only one way I knew to find out.

Waiting until dark, I set off for the motel again, praying Kannon hadn’t already left without me.

10

Bloodbound

We crossed into Virginia at just before five-thirty a.m.

Kannon’s BMW was the first car I’d ever ridden in, and the smooth, quiet ride and plush leather seating made me feel like I was flying on a cloud.

“Why Virginia?” I asked.

It seemed to me a group of vampires might be more likely to live in a big, exciting city like New York or San Francisco where the general attitude was “anything goes” than in a rural area not so different from where I’d grown up.

Those places certainly seemed like they’d offer more entertainment to people who stayed up all night.

“You’ll see when you get there,” Kannon said with a wink. “You know all those billboards that say, ‘Virginia is for Lovers?’”

“Yes. I’ve been seeing them.”

The lighted signs dotted the highway every few miles. Even the Welcome to Virginia sign at the state line had featured the iconic tourism slogan.

“Well they might as well say, ‘Virginia is for Vampires.’ There are almost eight thousand documented caves in the Virginias, including ten of the world’s longest. One of those—is ours.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

My expectations sank a little, along with my excitement. The snatches of information I’d picked up over the years—along with Kannon’s luxurious vehicle—had led me to believe vampire life was rather glamorous.

Cave dwelling was not what I’d pictured.

But I guessed when you were basically