To Save a Vampire - A.K. Koonce Page 0,25

on the table. Forty-four’s eyes are closed, but I know he knows I’m here. As my mother carefully lifts the blade I take another weak breath, trying to get air into my constricting lungs. It’s not enough. There isn’t enough air in this tiny wreck of a home. I breathe again, still not finding oxygen in the air, but trying anyway.

I watch as my mother angles Forty-four’s face farther away, exposing his neck. His neck is so strained for a moment I think I can see a pulse. Out of panic, I take Forty-four’s hand in mine, trying to comfort him and myself.

At the touch of my palm against his, he opens his eyes to look up at me from the table. I stare into his pale gray eyes, thinking this might be the last time I see the beautiful hybrid look at me. The last time I stare into those capturing, intense eyes. His brows lower in confusion and his thumb begins tracing circles against the back of my hand. I take another small, useless breath.

With slow precision, my mother rakes the crystal blade across his throat. A thin trickle of blood escapes before his skin closes and heals immediately.

My mother huffs and lowers the blade in frustration. She releases Forty-four’s head and he slowly looks at her. His eyes glare at her from under thick, dark lashes.

“Sorry, let me try again,” she says to him.

Forty-four sighs like his murder is a real inconvenience to him, but turns his head back toward the wall. His thumb never stops its busy work at the back of my hand.

My jaw is still hanging open. I’m looking from my mother to Forty-four, trying to take in the insanity surrounding me. I lick my lips and try to remain passively at his side. He deserves someone who isn’t a sobbing mess to be at his side. Even if it’s the first time someone like me might be here for him. Even if it’s the last time.

My mother takes a determined breath and raises the blade again. Again, with patient and careful execution, she strokes the blade over his angled throat. And again the blood trickles and the shallow wound closes.

Forty-four exhales loudly in annoyance before rising to a sitting position on the table, letting go of and leaving my hand behind.

“Let me try one more time,” my mother says calmly. “It’s not as easy as it looks,” she says defensively, trying to sell her murdering abilities.

I want to scream at her to stop this. Instead, I patiently wait in silence for whatever she thinks is best.

I once read it was near impossible to kill a vampire and their offspring are just as difficult. It can be done, but not by a mortal blade. Which must be why the blade at present is being used. He’s healing so quickly we might have to find another way to kill him. The casual thought sinks into my mind, and I shudder at how dark my thinking has become.

Forty-four shakes his head at my mother as if he’s tired of the death game they’re playing. He holds out his hand for the weapon. His posture is perfectly straight, and his eyes are hard as they stare at her. Waiting. She swallows and looks away before handing him the sword.

He tilts his head back from one side to the other, clearly trying to release the stress that’s tensed his muscles for the past several hours. Possibly his whole life.

In his sitting position, his shadow is cast against the wall and the blade sends slivers of light into his shadow as he raises it against the dim lamp. A memory of a childhood story enters my mind, of a boy whose shadow was somehow severed from his body. A happy, carefree character. If only it were that simple. If only this blade had the ability to sever the dark heaviness that follows this hybrid around.

He takes a deep breath. All eyes watching him. Then quickly but carefully he slices the blade across his own neck.

Five

Asher Xavier

A gasp rips from my throat the moment his crimson blood trails down his skin. The color’s darker than I expected and stains his shirt instantly. It continues flowing down his chest and arms. Endlessly flowing.

The lines of his jaw harden as he clenches his teeth together and seethes out short breaths against the pain, his chest heaving for air. I want to reach for him. Help him in some way. But I remain