The Silver Cross

“You know it’s not safe, and you don’t even carry around a clove of garlic or a silver cross!”

I sighed. “Joan, we don’t even know if those tactics even work. Heck, we didn’t even know werewolves and vampires existed a year ago. All I do is write down what people have said and other known facts, that’s all.”

“Yeah, and doing that can get you killed! You know that many of the people that have talked about them publicly have been killed, including writers!

“It’s a danger I’ll just have to take.” I continued to brush my hair, keeping my back to her. I didn’t want her to see my frightened face. Sure, these creatures scared me, but my curiosity always won out over my fear.

Over my shoulder Joan continued to rant and rave. “I don’t know who will get you first a werewolf clan or a vampire coven! I could have sworn I saw someone in that old abandoned house across the street.”

I spun around and looked straight into her scared blue eyes. She and I were exact opposites, but were the deepest of friends. She was more terrified for me than I was.

“Did you really?” I asked. “You’re not joking, are you?”

“Meagan, would I be joking about something like this? You know they frighten me more than anything!” Her long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders as she let it down. Her brow wrinkled with worry. “You’re not thinking of about sneaking around there, are you?”

“Of course, why would I miss this?” I turned around and quickly tied up my long black hair.

“Sometimes I wonder if you even have a brain in-between those two ears of yours.” She shook her head.

“How would you know!? You need a brain in the first place to-,“

“Let’s just drop it, okay? I know no matter what I say your going to do what you want to do. Here, I know you don’t believe in these, but take it anyway.” Joan took a silver cross off from around her neck and placed it around my own.

Joan was always like this. She wore at least half a dozen silver crosses and always smelled like garlic. She was just short of being fanatical about it.

“I’ll stay here while you go. I can’t go home, the sun has already set.”

I looked at the cross and placed it under my shirt. Maybe it would turnout useful, but I doubted it.

I quickly said bye to Joan and ran outside. The street I lived on had two broken streetlights, making it darker than usual, but still I was able to make out the old house across the street.

The house hadn’t been lived in for at least six years. An old man had lived there until his family put him into a nursing home, but he had refused to sell the house even though it was so run down.

Overgrown bushes surround the porch and a rather large picture window. I was easily able sneak in-between two of the bushes and peer into the picture window.

The living room was covered in dust and the furniture was covered in sheets. The room looked as if it hadn’t been touched in years.

From an another room came a small light, a candle really. I could partially see a man set the candle down onto a desk. He brought out a rather old looking piece of paper and a quill. Even from a distance this man seemed gorgeous. His long, curly, brown hair seemed to shimmer in the flickering candlelight. His clothing was simple, just a white T-shirt, pair of jeans, and an old leather jacket. His skin was very pale.

The man continued to write, occasionally dipping his quill into a little jar of ink.

By this time my legs had begun to hurt badly from the cramped position I was in. I quietly tried to shift my weight to a more comfortable, but the bushes gave me away. They made a slight sound as I moved.

The man in the house jerked his head up, as if he had heard a loud banging. He looked my direction. Our eyes met, I couldn’t move: not out of fear, mind you, I was paralyzed, frozen in place.

Our eye contact continued as another man walked up to the first. His expression was blank as he spoke to the first. The first man nodded, careful to keep eye contact with me.

Moments later I felt an icy cold hand on the back of my neck, a second hand took my wrists and held them behind my back.

He jerked me up, releasing me from the paralyzing gaze. I thrashed about, trying to get loose. His single hand on my two wrists was enough to keep me contained.

I kicked at his legs, then drug my feet, trying to stop him from taking me into the house. He became tired of my struggling and picked me up by his grip on my neck, yet I persisted.

He brought me into the house and set me down in front of the brown haired man, who was now sealing his letter he had been writing. “Jordan, let go of the girl and deliver this to the Alpha of the Beden clan. Tell him it’s already done, we have her.”

Jordan let go of me, took the letter, and left. I decided not to run, if this guy was half as strong as Jordan, I wouldn't even make it to the door.

He looked at me, careful not to meet my eyes. “You saved us a lot of trouble by coming here, Meagan.”

“Who are you? What are you?” I asked.

“I am Michael, a vampire. Couldn't you tell? I hear you know much about our kind.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“But wasn’t that letter to….”

“Yes, it was,” he interrupted.

“But I’ve heard that vampires are warring against werewolves.”

“We are,” he stated. “A werewolf clan has been slowly taking over our territory. When they took territory, they took vampires and fed them to the fire. Werewolves are so much less sophisticated then us. At one time our coven was full, with eight, now just three of us remain.

“They finally came to us, they wanted a deal. They would leave us and our territory if we gave them a dead human. One who had unfortunately been talking about the wrong things. We had to agree. The Elder decided on the person, and for the first time in over a century, decided to come with us.” He smiled, "but why am I telling you this?"

“Who’s the Elder?” I asked, ignoring his last comment. In all my research I had never come across anything like this. No one has gotten this deep within vampires society and lived to tell the tale.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Michael’s face was like a mask, he showed no emotion, but I could feel the sadness radiating from him.
The sound of footsteps interrupted our discussion. Jordan had returned with a response from the werewolf clan.

Michael read it, nodding silently. “Now that they know we have her, you can take her to the Elder.”

Jordan nodded and took me by the arm. His grip was as still cold as ever. He took me to a small room, which I guessed at one time was a walk-in closet. It was lit with several candles spread all around. The room was barren, having only two chairs, which faced each other.

In one of the chairs sat a beautiful woman. Her skin looked like marble, but her black hair and red lips clashed beautifully with it. She looked about my age, in her mid-twenties.

She didn’t move, she didn’t blink, and her chest didn’t even rise and fall with breath. Did vampires even breathe?

“This is the Elder,” Jordan explained. “She makes all the decisions for the coven, but she barely moves any more. The older we get, the less we drink, and this occurs, but most of us go mad before this stage. She’s a rarity.” He left, locking the door behind him.

I sat down across from the Elder and examined her. Nobody I wrote about even talked about this. Her brown eyes stared into space, as if I wasn’t even there.

“Oh, I know you’re there.” She spoke. “Call me Taylor, that is the last name I went under.”
I did a double take, her lips didn’t even move!

“Why move my lips? My body has become difficult to move and summoning the sound of my voice has become much easier. Though it took centuries to perfect it.” Her accent was heavy, but I couldn’t place it. Egyptian maybe?

“There are some things I must know about you, meet my eyes, it will be over soon.”

Our eyes connected, this was something much different than it was with Michael. With him it was just to contain me, Taylor’s gaze was searching for something.

I couldn’t quite see what she was looking at, but I could feel it. She dug into my thoughts, then memories, and even my emotions. She paused for a second, as if considering then moved into my very dreams. Every now and then she’d pause, as if thinking to herself, then moving on.

“You are perfect!” Taylor cried and lunged at me, baring her fangs. Her teeth dug into my neck as my mouth opened for a scream that drowned in my throat. Taylor began to drain me.
After her teeth pierced my throat she began to consume the blood coming from my veins. I tried to struggle, but she pinned me down with her body alone. She was like flexible stone, heavy.
Taylor pulled away from me, her face no longer a marble white, but a fleshy pink. She bit into her wrist and offered it to me. “Drink,” she commanded.

The blood seeped from her wrist and dripped onto my dry lips. I licked it, the taste was surprising. It was sweet, almost like the taste of carmel. “No….” I whispered. “I can’t, I won’t.”

“You must, we need you. Drink, or you will die.” She pushed her bleeding wrist onto my lips. The blood poured into my mouth, I had no idea what to do, so I swallowed. As I look back I realize I really didn’t have a choice right then. Once the blood was in my mouth I had to drink, I was too weak to spit it out.

I drank deeply; even so my eyelids began to droop. I fell asleep, still swallowing the blood from Taylor. The sleep was deep, too deep for dreams. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, it almost seemed as if I had died. It was like death.

When I awoke my head was pounding. It ached something terrible! The room around me was completely dark, all the candles had burned out, but I could see as if it were bright as day. Taylor sat in her lone chair; the other one was gone.

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked holding my head as I got up from the floor.

“A day and half a night,” she said. “Your death was peaceful enough, you slept through it.”

“Ugh, I think I’m still dying.”

“Headache?”

“Yeah, like a major migraine. Why is it so bad?”

“Your brain is trying to accept all the new information it is getting from your improved or new senses. Don’t worry it will go away soon.”

I nodded and took my hand away from my head. My hand! It had become pearly white; my nails were like glass. I brought it to my face, it was smooth, no scars, no zits, no nothing. It was, well, perfect.

I slid my hand down my face, down my neck, and onto my chest. My hand fell upon the silver cross under my shirt that Joan had given me. It didn’t harm me; I was immune. “Joan, she knows I’m here.”

Taylor turned her head towards me, showing a cold smile. “She will not be a problem. From what I have seen, she is a coward, she will keep quiet.”

With that I heard the unlocking of the door, it banged loudly in my ears. Not only was my sight better, but my hearing as well.

Michael shoved the door open, nearly tearing off the hinges. “Elder, I’ve never questioned you before, but I’m beginning to wonder if you really are insane! How could you do this to our coven? The Bedan clan will be here tomorrow with the full moon! They expect her dead!”

Taylor stayed motionless, but this time she spoke with her mouth. “Why Michael, she is dead.”

He clenched his teeth, then bared his fangs in anger. “That’s not what I meant! The Bedan clan wants her body, which is impossible now! Why did you do this?”

She turned to him and cocked her head. Their eyes locked, neither of them froze, their powers canceling each other out. “I saw something, Michael. Something I have not seen in an immortal for centuries. Not since you were a mortal, my dear Michael. I have seen it in many mortals, but not this intense. She might save our kind.”

“What did you see?” I asked, not even sure what she was talking about.

Michael met my eyes, then scanned my up and down. Evidently Jordan must have told him of my transformation.

Taylor watched his reaction, and shook her head. “I cannot tell you now, Meagan. You will find out when the time is right.” She turned to Michael, I could tell that the movement was starting to tire her. “She cannot stay with us. Tell her what can harm her and what cannot. Show her how to take a victim without incidents. She must leave before the Bedan clan comes. They will not be able to track her, for she no longer has a scent.”

“But Elder,” Michael protested. “There is no time for a hunt tonight! Let alone the perfection of it, that could take years.”

“Then tell her what to be aware of. She already knows that most of the legends are false. Right now even, she wears a silver cross. She must know that all can truly kill her is the sun and the fire that is like it. She might know she can recover from anything else, but maybe not.”

The argument halted as an indistinct blur speed into the room. It was Jordan, his hair was windblown and his eyes burned with a fire of hatred. He remained silent, gasping for air from his flight. I wondered how long and far he had run.

In the background of the silence I heard the sweet music of wolves howling in the night.

“The Bedan clan,” he said, finally catching his breath. “They have decided to come a night early! Damian couldn’t wait until the full moon. He and his pack will be here within the hour!”

Taylor’s eyes glazed over and she stiffened: once again becoming a living statue. I had a feeling she would stay that way for a long time.

“Meagan!” Michael turned me towards him. “You were created by the Elder! You were made by a very strong vampire; some of her strength has been deposited into you. With each kill you will become a little stronger. The only things that can render you helpless are fire and the sun, understand?”

“Yes,” I said, “but what hurt’s these werewolves?”

“I truly don’t know, this is my first real encounter with them. I usually stick with the Elder.”

“Where can I hide from them and the sun then? I know nothing of this!”

“When the morning come burrow into the earth. Until then, run! You can outrun any mortal or werewolf.

“What about you guys?” I asked, truly concerned.

Michael closed his eyes and shook his head. “When the Bedan Clan realizes what has happened, we’ll have to flee. Maybe we shall see you again; we are the strongest of our coven. We will survive! But you, you are so young even though you carry the Elder’s blood. We shall hope for you. Now, run! Please, don’t delay any longer!”

During our short conversation the howls of the approaching werewolves grew closer.

I turned on heel and ran from the house, letting my newfound senses guide me. My headache was now gone, but still a new sense came, smell. It had been intensified at least tenfold.

My sense guided me out, to the edge of town, but then I saw him.

He was the size of a small horse and his eyes glowed with the fire of the sun I would never see again. He snarled, daring me to come closer. I knew he couldn’t kill me, he would hold me until the sun rose, or injure me enough so I couldn’t escape.

I tried to back up as he let out a howl that was echoed by a dozen others. The howls were very close, in fact, right behind me. I turned; wolves of various sizes had quickly surrounded me.

Their jaws dripped with saliva and theirs eyes burned red as their growls grew louder. Those sounds were deafening to my new hearing.

The first wolf now stood inside the circle with me. In the moonlight he began to shift. He stood up, his muscles changed positions; he grew fingers. His eyes turned from a blood red to a sky blue. Now he looked completely human, but still cover in the shaggy fur of the wolf.

His mouth was curled into a sneer. “So the vampire trash made you one of them. I can see already that you have no idea what powers you possess. That’s good, surrender now and we’ll end you miserable existence quickly.”

Overwhelmed, I instinctively put my hand on my chest. I felt the sliver cross beneath my shirt and wondered: If it didn’t hurt me, would it hurt them?” I tried to stall, “What is the name of my killer then?”

He laughed. “ I am Damian, remember it.”

“Well, Damian, tell me what would this would do to you.” I pulled the cross from my neck, breaking the chain. I held it in front of me so he could see it. “You see,” I continued, trying to sound confident. “I really don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A cross? A cross that hangs around your own neck? You think that can stop me?”

I lunged at him, faster then either him of myself could follow. My eardrums throbbed as a scream escaped my lips. I slammed the silver cross onto Damian’s face.

His own screams now drowned out my own. The silver had begun to melt through his skin. Blood gushed from the wound; I tried to ignore it.
The pack had become human and was circling the bleeding Damian who now was lying on the ground trying to pry off the silver that seemed to be stuck to his face. “Silver, its silver,” the pack whispered; being too afraid to help him with their bare hands.

In the confusion I was able to escape, running until the birds sang. My instincts told me that day was coming.

Bloody sweat covered me as I dug into the soft earth in a little clearing in the forest. I worked quickly, the dawn was close, but within minutes I had buried myself three feet under.

Only then did it sink in, I was a vampire, and if I could survive, I would live forever. I hoped that one night I would meet that little coven again, and by that time I would know the secret that Taylor knew of me.