To Save a Vampire - A.K. Koonce Page 0,1

reminder of what the mortals suffered. Humans are vengeful beings, lashing out at those who have harmed us as well as those who once helped us …

In his amusement he reveals a beautiful but haunting white smile. His dark chocolate hair is messy and laying haphazardly in different directions. Like his sleep comes restlessly to him. An eternal look of bedhead graces his appearance. His white shirt is tight around his arms and torso, emphasizing his broad chest. Lines of hard muscle crease his shirt.

He looks human but unhuman all at once. The muscle is too defined, his teeth too perfect, his movements too fluid. And, of course, his gray-silver eyes are the most beautifully unhuman characteristic of all.

Can monsters of the night really be beautiful?

I try to remember how much I should hate him, but sitting across from him, it’s all I can do to catch my breath and stop my heart from beating though its cage in my chest. With an unsteady exhale I look away to see the inside of the chamber in an attempt to focus on anything but him.

The air is diluted in here with a horrible thickness that fills my senses and leaves me craving clean oxygen. The surrounding walls are tall and made of cinder blocks encased by thick titanium bars, with a half-a-foot gap along the top before being enclosed again at the ceiling.

I suppose the gap is to give the pikes a little fresh air, which they desperately need. A beautiful blue bird flutters its wings delicately to land on the gapped stone edge of the fencing. It rests.

For the briefest of seconds.

A high-pitched squawk and a fluff of feathers are all I see before a red light flickers with an alarming zap, and the bird falls lifelessly to the ground.

A gasp is torn from my lips at the sight of the burnt bird. Smoke trails up from its little body lying along the concrete wall. Forty-four glances back at the tiny dead animal, and his hand twitches like he’s fighting to move before slowly reaching out. Warm fingers skim ever so gently over the back of my hand. My breath falters from his feather light touch. His hand rests over mine, barely touching my skin. I can feel the weight of his watchful gaze on me, almost testing me to respond to his boldness.

The guard in the tower leisurely walks the long stairway to the ground. I notice, attached to his thick black belt, there are no weapons normally seen on officials in our camp. How much sedation are these pikes under to create that kind of safety for their staff?

The guard is chubby, a trait I’m unaccustomed to in our community since food is directly supplied and rationed to ensure we all have enough. He reaches his fat, little gloved hand down and grabs the bird, heaving in a breath when he stands, as if the tiny creature is weighing him down. He waddles to a dark corner of the room and tosses the little bird aside. The bird lands without a sound onto the pile of animal corpses.

The foul stench in the air is now apparent to me. The little mound of hawks, squirrels, and even a cat produces a stench that makes my stomach turn. I can only hope that pile isn’t the pike’s dinner.

The touch along my knuckles feels heavier now. Comfortable and casual.

Intimate but not.

His hand is still on mine. I pull it slowly away without looking at him. Perhaps I passed his little test.

My mother leans into me, her warm vanilla scent filling my lungs and calming me with the simple familiar smell. “I wish you would have worn a different shirt today,” she whispers, glancing at my neckline.

There goes the familiar comfort she brings.

Forty-four smiles into the distance, and I wonder if he heard her. I barely heard her. He looks back to me, and I think about what my mother said. I look around, and other pikes are discreetly studying me, probably because I’m on the wrong side of the safe little glass window, but I have yet to see Forty-four look at my neck or the pulsing vein there. In fact, all he has done is stare into my eyes. He hasn’t made me feel like he wants to violently rip the life from my throat.

Not yet anyway …

As he purposely scans the area, I can fully see the device in his neck. There’s no scar, but I can see the