Chapter 94

Ardal

Mingan stops abruptly at the edge of the treeline, the only demarcation between the dark and light. Even with her vampire white pallor, she’s the very picture of innocence - but I don’t trust my eyes. Instead, the image of a rabid, fanged demon flashes in my mind, making me feel frozen with fear.

"Will she - eat me," I choke out.

"No, of course not," he laughs, as if that was the most ridiculous assumption ever uttered.

“Then what the hell was this for,” I say, pointing at the raised cow on my hand.

"Some of them are - are dangerous," he says solemnly, "But I bring them blood, so we're on fairly friendly terms - and they're not out. Yet."

Surely doctors had more honorable tasks. But he shrugs and smiles gently, as if it's nothing more than a professional courtesy, using his access to blood donations.

I still can't move. The "yet," in his answer is giving me some trouble.

I make a strangled attempt at a laugh. "Give me a shove then," I say, grimacing.

He takes hold of my good hand, instead. "Surely this is better," he says and begins to tug me gently forward.

“Maybe don’t tell Kadeem,” I say, trying to joke through chattering teeth. I grip his hand tightly.

“Believe me,” he says. “I won’t.”

Mingan's face lights up in amusement when we draw closer to her. Jack clasps her small frame with unexpected strength and tosses her up into the air before catching her with ease.

Her laughter fills the space around us and I can't help but smile in spite of my nervous energy. She can't be more than eight or nine years old - or, was eight or nine before she became a vampire, that is.

"Who are you," she asks curiously as her focus falls onto me.

"Um, my name is Ardal," I say hesitantly, "I'm a friend of Jack's."

Her gaze lingers on me for a moment longer before looking back to her brother. Her eyes are a beautiful blue, just like his. My heart catches in my throat, because she is so very, alive - radiant, and seemingly happy. Zero glimpse yet of a bloodsucker - cursed to an eternal life of darkness.

Could this be a life for Erbao? Or is she just a shining piece of fool’s gold?

I scrunch my eyes, looking for her fangs. They’re just barely visible, but they still send a shudder through me.

“I brought Ardal to talk with you,” Jack says, bending down to meet his sister’s eyes.

Mingan leans her face close to his. “About what,” she whispers.

He gamely whispers back, “About what it’s like to be a vampire.”

Mingan lets out a small giggle.

“Not to mention, being a werewolf, too,” I chip in.

Mingan immediately shakes her head. “That part is gone,” she says flatly.

"Ah," I say, looking back at Jack.

"Yes, but there’s more to it,” Jack says, standing. “All my research - and Mingan’s experience - seems to show it’s advantageous if one already has a supernatural entity before becoming a vampire.”

I raise my eyebrows. “How so?”

“It’s like the transition wiped away the wolf portion of herself, but in doing so, protected her human self, leaving that untouched - and crystallized. She’ll be a child forever - emotionally as well as physically. So immortal vampire, yes, but she’s no demon or spook. She’s purely Mingan, though she did lose her gray wolf.”

"And, she drinks blood,” I remind him quietly while Mingan is distracted by a yellow butterfly flapping nearby. “And can’t go out into the sun, or return home to her family.”

"My family is here," Mingan says, tilting her head.

I blush and whip my head back over to Jack. He nods in agreement.

"Well, Mother is here," Mingan quickly adds. "Father is..." As she trails off, her face contorts with grief.

Jack clears his throat. "Deceased," he gulps.

He looks the definition of squirrelly. Questions begin to swirl in my mind. Why didn’t he tell me about his parents earlier? What happened to his father? What’s with the unease I’m seeing now?

"I definitely think I’m missing some pieces to this story,” I say cautiously. Though It’s not my strongest skill, I manage - miraculously - to force myself to just be quiet and not launch a thousand accusations at him. I am literally biting my tongue.

Jack meets my eyes. "My mother is - and always has been - a total nightmare," he says, disdain etched on his face. "That didn't change or get amplified when she was turned, but it did unfortunately, seem to give her more permission to be vicious.”

I fail miserably in my attempt to feign nonchalance, but fortunately, Jack simply nods in understanding when the shock I’m feeling registers visibly in my expression.

"After Mingan was turned,” he says, “Our mother decided to... preserve herself." Jack fumbles with his shirt, a look of bitter contempt on his face. "Toxic narcissist," he mutters. "Botox wasn’t good enough at maintaining her youthful glow.”

Mingan glances at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Mother and Jack don't really get along."

I start to feel goosebumps on my arms. "Where - where is she,” I ask nervously.

"Over there," Mingan cranes her head and points casually toward the mountain.

I can just make out a few specks - maybe cabins. The distance is a small relief, but I’m still on edge.

"I knew Jack was coming," she says, grinning up at me. “So I was ready here to meet him.”

Jack puts a hand on her shoulder. "That's another thing that stayed with Mingan," he says. "She always had a little touch of the Sight."

"Wow,” I chuckle nervously. “You have quite a family."

My own supernatural world pales in comparison.

"Tell me about it," Jack mutters darkly.

"Why do you live so far away from your brother," I ask, turning back to the young vamp.

"Mother thinks it's safest here," she says, twirling her finger through her blond hair.

Jack shakes his head sadly. “That has to do with the politics in Pack X. Vampires are less and less welcome. They’re being pushed to more remote locations.”

“I see,” I say, suddenly feeling a little guilty for my support of a similar push-out in Red Moon years ago. I swallow hard as it occurs to me - Erbao would be similarly rejected.

"But, I'm happy here," Mingan says, beaming up at Jack. “Don’t worry.”

He gives her a tight lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s really detestable, Ardal,” Jack says, his face beginning to flush. “There are other vampires - not just Mingan, who are reasonable, decent folks - not much different from the Weres. But the packs have made them out to be monsters, spinning tales that have been wildly exaggerated.”

He pauses to take a short breath. His eyes are on Mingan, but he looks as though he’s seeing right past her. “Their diet is a problem, but not when you look at it in the right way. Animal blood just isn’t enough for them. It weakens them considerably, but what if we all cooperated to provide them with proper sustenance? People could be compensated for giving their blood.”

I try to picture that, but it just seems absurd. And I would donate blood to Erbao, of course, but how much would he need? Could I even give him enough? Would I be reduced to relying on Jack to pilfer from the blood donation supply?

I envision myself, typing in a Craiglist ad.

Fresh blood, wanted. Must be human or werewolf. Prefers O positive. $25/pint.

An angry knot forms in my stomach for even entertaining Jack’s insane version of a miracle, and for following him out here at all!

I bite my tongue again, anxious to get back to the kids. There’s a sick kind of grief rising in me and all I want to do is hold Erbao. He needs to go back home to a normal life, albeit a life with dialysis for now.

I brush away tears, but Jack doesn’t notice. His face has taken on a determined look.

"And there's so much more research that could be done on vampire venom,” he says, with an urgent passion in his voice. “I conducted my own trials - attempting to use small doses of venom to heal, without turning the test subject into a vampire, but I was unsuccessful.”

God, I hope he was using rats… and not his pediatric patients? My stomach does a lurch.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“If only we could figure out how to extract its properties,” he says, his eyes bright. “There’s so much we don’t know because we want to confine vampires to the dark! The Weres are too territorial and too scared to share their power.”

Jack’s feverish convictions about vampires take me aback.

There does seem to be something spritely - maybe even angelic - about Mingan, who is, at the moment, bending down to pick dandelions, but I don’t know how Jack can gloss over history. Vampires have killed both werewolves and humans alike in countless bloody episodes.

But as I gaze down at the little girl, one, final question bubbles up in my grief.

"Mingan," I ask gently.

She looks up at me with twinkling eyes.

"Do you miss... being alive?"

Her gaze shifts to the bright line of sun, so close, yet unreachable. She’s still for a moment, her eyes distant and longing.

“I am alive,” she says finally. “And I’m not sick anymore.” When she smiles, it’s one of peace.

Beside me, Jack sniffs, hastily removing his glasses to wipe his eyes. I’m hit with a surprising recognition: this strange, twisted, frightening ‘cure’... maybe, at least for her, it really was a saving grace.

Mingan’s brow furrows. “You have to go now,” she says, her eyes locking onto us both.

There’s a slight panic in her voice and it makes my heart speed up a notch. I peer back towards the cabins in the shadows.

Jack simply nods in agreement, seeming not to pick up on the atmospheric change around us. “You’re probably right,” he says and smiles down at the little girl. “I’ll come back to see you soon.”

In a burst of emotion, Mingan throws her arms around his legs like a barnacle, a sob coming from her throat.

Jack looks down, confused. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head vehemently. "I can't say it," she cries. "I don't want to make it come true."

Jack glances at me, understanding dawning on his face. His face is lined in concern. He kneels down to his sister and immediately, she throws her arms around him so forcefully, she nearly knocks his glasses off his face.

He hugs her back tightly, then kisses the crown of her head. “Whatever it is you’re seeing,” he says. “We’ll be okay.”

Jack looks out towards the fading sunlight and sighs, patting Mingan as he stands.

We shift into our wolf forms and hurriedly start our trek back to the dense pine woods, away from the mountains - both of us, I think, making attempts not to be rattled by Mingan’s alarm.

But as we're racing back, something snaps around my paw, flooding my body with an exquisite pain - snaring me in its immovable grip.