Crimson Born - Amy Patrick

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... Every human of adult age and sufficient health shall therefore donate, every sixty days, one pint of blood to the blood bank of his or her district, ensuring the survival of the vampire race, the continued safety of humankind, and peace between the species.

—Edict Fourteen of The Crimson Accord

The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses’ hooves was hypnotic. I blinked hard several times and sat up straighter in the buggy’s front seat bench, fighting to stay alert.

It was late, and I’d gotten up early to milk the cows and collect eggs as usual. Even Josiah’s jokes and the intermittent headlights of the oncoming cars weren’t enough to keep me from dozing off on the way home to our respective family farms.

In the buggy’s covered back seat, Aaron and Hannah were going for a record in the world’s longest kiss competition and pushing the boundaries of our Amish community’s traditional Rumspringa concept.

Josiah raised a blond eyebrow at me and called over his shoulder in a sarcastic voice, “If any of our neighbors spot us on the road, you two are going to get us all confined to hymn sings and courting in the family parlor.”

“Mind your own business,” Aaron growled at him and went back to work trying his best to find out what was under Hannah’s plain blue tunic and chaste apron.

We’d spent the evening at a bonfire on the Miller’s farm six miles from our village in Lancaster County.

As we were all over seventeen, no longer under our families’ strict control but not yet officially full adult members of the community, the four of us were in that in-between period, enjoying our freedom, searching for a potential life mate, and deciding whether we wanted to commit to the austere life we’d been born to as Amish people or to pursue completely different futures as part of the mainstream “English” world.

Before the party, we’d stopped off at a local gas station so Hannah could change out of her shapeless smock into a pair of jeans and a cutoff t-shirt.

She’d been giggly with rebellious excitement, announcing her intention to hook up with one of the non-Amish boys from the local high school.

“I’ll bet they really know how to kiss.”

“Won’t Aaron be mad?” I asked.

We’d gone to school with him and Josiah all our lives, but it was pretty obvious from the way he’d started watching her lately that Aaron no longer considered Hannah just a friend.

“He has no claim on me,” she’d argued, giving me a sassy grin in the dingy bathroom mirror, and continued applying a thick coat of mascara. “And what’s the point of Rumspringa if you don’t ‘bounce around’ a little? It’s what the word means.”

But after we’d arrived at the party and they’d each had a drink or two, our friends’ usual playful banter had shifted to steady conversation and then discreet kissing in the barn.

Their discretion was dissolving by the minute. Josiah chuckled and gave me an amused glance.

“Some guys have all the luck. Why aren’t we back there?”

Uncomfortable, I giggled and looked away, grateful for the darkness that hid the color of my heated cheeks.

Whether inspired by his best friend’s success with Hannah or his own lack of success with the English girls at the party, Josiah had been flirting with me non-stop during the ride home. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“You know it’s not like that with us,” I said.

“It could be.”

“Josiah...” I let out a frustrated breath. He didn’t need me to explain this.

Or maybe he did?

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings. We’d grown up on neighboring farms, and I knew him almost as well as I knew my own brothers. In fact, I loved him like a brother.

“You know I want to leave the county. Maybe even the state. You’re always going to want to be here.”

His boyish face contracted in a frown. “What’s wrong with here?”

“Nothing. It’s good. It’s great. I just... I don’t think I can stand to live in one place my whole life and only know the people I’ve grown up with. I want...”

Here I stopped, unable to put it into words. Having seen so little of the world, it was hard to even form a mental picture of what I wanted.

Josiah sounded irritated now. “What? What do you want Abigail? That tall English guy you were talking to tonight? Is that what you want?”

“No.” I paused to think about it. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about