Parvati was pulled out of her fitful sleep by the pounding noises from the attic. The wailing of the pseudo-metal nerdcore bands Rukmini worked out to drifted into her ears.
She decided against going back to sleep: her dreams had been haunted by corpse-pale creatures and parental figures who refused to help. So Parvati clambered out of bed and checked her phone. The neon letters winked back at her: 1:30 PM. Parvati bit back a groan and glanced around.
A long cardboard board was hammered to her wall. Newspaper clips on the recent murders were pinned to it. Books on vampire-hunting were stacked beside it, as were multiple salt packets.
Reality crashed down on Parvati. She was a frail seventeen-year-old. The afternoon Gwennie and Akbar were killed, she’d left her elderly grandmother to face vampires. She couldn’t even set up a board without horribly bruising her finger.
The idea that she could take on a vampire Sovereign was laughable. And yet, the thought of abandoning innocent people and leaving the dead unavenged twisted her gut.
Biting her lip, Parvati grabbed her clothes, and headed to the bathroom.
The thoughts bore on her as she dressed. She brushed her hair over her brown eye, leaving her blue eye gleaming ghostly pale against her golden skin.
The brown eye was the stronger one, but she’d kept it semi-covered since childhood to strengthen the blue one. The familiar act was especially comforting now, given yesterday’s violence.
Ding!
The ringing doorbell surprised Parvati so much, she almost dropped her purple lipstick tube. She tossed a vest over her button-down shirt, and rushed downstairs.
She opened the door, and found the entire Belizaire family waiting. Bookish Mira stood beside her stylish South Asian mother, Rohini. Her father, Noe, a Black man of Haitian descent, who dressed almost as dapperly as his wife, stood in front of them both.
Ordinarily, she’d be happy to see them — The Kalidas-Dawns and Belizaires had always been close friends.
But right now, concern was scrawled across the whole family’s faces. Without warning, Rohini stepped forward, and hugged Parvati.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “about that shop.”
Memory of the bloodstained afternoon seared through Parvati’s mind. Rohini’s embrace reminded Parvati of when she was a little kid, using her mother’s arm to hide her from the noise of thunderstorms. Rohini even smelled a bit like Devi Kalidas — like sandalwood perfume and cardamon.
Then, Rohini pulled away. “We saw,” she said softly. “On the news.”
“You mean the murders?” Parvati asked numbly.
Rohini and Noe exchanged glances.
“May we come in?” Noe asked.
Reflexively, Parvati almost refused. Vampires couldn’t enter someone’s house without permission, and she’d been practicing keeping them away. But the Belizaires were certainly not vampires, and Rohini had already stepped past the threshold, so Parvati stepped aside.
Noe patted her shoulder. Mira hugged her, then handed her a black-tipped rose pendant. “I thought you’d like it,” she said. “You’re always into spooky stuff.”
“I do like it,” Parvati said, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Parvati?” Jules called. “What’s going on —” she stopped. “Ah! Noe, Rohini. And, of course, little Mira. How’s life been treating you? And, if I may ask, what brings you here?”
“Well —” Noe began.
“The news isn’t good —” Rohini said.
Mira muttered something under her breath. Parvati didn’t hear what she said, but both of the girl’s parents’ turned on her.
“We did you a service,” Rohini said sternly. “You can engage with those books when your brain is done forming, and you’ve got a steady job.”
“It’s true,” Noe added, gripping Mira’s shoulder firmly. “Believe us, daughter. Folk who live with their heads in the clouds lose sight of their own feet, and trip up sooner than later.”
“I was going to ask if Rukmini’s here,” Mira said quietly. “You know how she likes to work out — I got her that protein milk.”
Noe and Rohini looked decidedly taken aback.
“And I am right here!” Rukmini called from the stairway, voice so loud Parvati jumped. “I mean, I’m standing on the stairway. I — uh —”
“Come down,” Mira called. “We’re waiting.”
Rukmini bounded down, and swept Mira into a hug so strong she lifted the smaller girl off her feet. She placed a flush-faced Mira down, and gave Noe and Rohini an exaggerated bow.
“Ms. Rohini and Mr. Noe, I’m aggrieved at your rivalry against fiction most fantastical” she said, failing to affect a British accent.
“You’re ridiculous,” said Mira.
“And you love me for it,” Rukmini said cheerfully. Then, her face turned scarlet. “I mean — uh, in a friendly way! You love — I love — hah ha, am I right?”
Eyes gleaming and grin sheepish, Mira placed a delicate hand on Rukmini’s shoulder, and firmly led her upstairs.
Parvati watched their retreat. Rukmini had dated many a lesbian teenager, but she’d be damned if this wasn’t her sister’s strongest crush.
“Will you look at that,” Noe said. “Jules, your Rukmini’s got her hooks in our daughter.”
“I could say the same for your Mira,” Jules replied. “You’re too hard on your girl, I think.”
“We encourage responsibility,” Noe said. “There’s a difference.”
Rohini shrugged. “At least she’s not considering Vampire Studies.”
The words scalded Parvati like a brand. Beside her, Jules flushed an ugly red.
Noe shot his wife a sharp look. “Rohini, bitter language will doom the best careers. As for why we came —”
“You said something about the news, right?” Parvati asked.
Rohini and Noe glanced at each other. “Rukmini called us last night,” Noe said. “Gave us the report on the murder at that cafe. She told us the store owner was a human working for multiple vampires.” he looked to Jules for confirmation.
“She’s right,” Jules said. “Go on.”
“We saw the news this morning,” Rohini said. “The police investigated. They claimed the store owner was a vampire, and the only one in this town.”
Parvati’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. She remembered his pale eyes, irises many shades too light to be red-concealing contacts. She remembered him holding a crucifix so tightly it marked the flesh of his palm.
“Adam wasn’t a vampire,” she said softly. “I’m sure of it. There was one in the shop, but it wasn’t him. I’m not sure how you could make that mistake, unless —”
A horrible thought struck her.
Stop it, she thought. You’re being paranoid.
“Unless what?” Rohini asked.
“It’s a useless worry,” Parvati said.
“No, it isn’t,” Jules said, so sharply Parvati flinched. Her grandmother turned to the Belizaires. “Certain vampires can get very, very wealthy, not to mention influential.”
Noe’s trim eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Nobody is that corruptable.”
“I’ve seen it happen,” Jules replied grimly. “And I also know what went down in that shop.”
For a moment, all was silent.
“Parvati,” Jules said, “I think you should go upstairs.” Her grandmother sounded gentle, but Parvati recognized the strength with which she squeezed the cane.
“I was there the night those people died,” Parvati said. “Same as you.”
“You are a minor, and I sent you away before things got tense,” Jules replied. She rested a calloused hand on Parvati’s shoulder. “Please, Parv.”
The desperation in Jules’ tone pierced Parvati’s heart. She didn’t know what she would have done, when Rohini spoke.
“Listen to your grandmother,” she snapped. “Let the adults handle this.”
Parvati’s anger sparked. Rohini spoke to her like she was a child, but she’d be a woman come next year. She’d be in college come summer’s end.
Parvati nodded and returned upstairs. She’d research the current vampire attacks, figure out how to get scholarships and where to work to pay for school. She reached her room.
And stared straight at that board she’d set up. It was a mess: a massive map of Bluewood took up most of the space. Post-It stamps with the names and rough sketches of the victims were stuck to the corners. All of it was connected with a drooping red string.
@21st_CenturyBard. John Doe (real name unknown). Akbar Khan. Gwennie Alabastor.
Their lives were every bit as complicated as hers.
More complicated, actually. Parvati had never held down a job, let alone been homeless or engaged. If she couldn’t stand up to her grandmother, how could she expect to defeat a murderous vampire Sovereign?
Parvati’s confidence crumbled to dust.
She never thought Jules would refuse to help pay for her higher education. She always had her grandma’s emotional and financial backing. Without it, Parvati’s world was off-kilter.
A soft knock yanked her from her thoughts. She turned, and saw Mira peering in, delicately rapping her knuckles against the ajar door.
“What is it?” Parvati sounded gruffer than intended.
Mira opened the door a crack. “I heard that Jules isn’t letting you study vampires. And, um, I just want to say I relate.”
Parvati cocked her head.
“I want to pursue English,” Mira said in a rush. “But Ma and Papa, they want me to do computer programming or something.”
“That must suck,” Parvati agreed.
Mira nodded emphatically.
Parvati thought for a moment.
“You know Lord Byron?”
Mira perked up. “Who hasn’t? My favorite poem of his is Parsinia. Also, didn’t he catch vampirism during the Greek War of Independence, forcing his fellow soldiers to kill him in a salt bath?”
“Among the most famous vampire cases of the time,” Parvati said. “One of his children was Ada Lovelace. She’s considered the first computer coder.”
“Meaning?” Mira asked.
“Meaning that computer coding and liberal arts aren’t diametrically opposed,” Parvati said. “If you can’t convince your folks to let you major in English, you can at least minor in it. And if that doesn’t work, you can always study it on the side.”
Mira twisted her skirt. “Maybe,” she said. “I’d like to minor in it, at least. And what about you?” she glanced at the board. “Studying vampires must mean twice as much to you as literature does to me.”
Parvati forced down her doubts, and shrugged. “I’ll have to figure that out. If I’m lucky, Grandma will calm down when these vampires are caught.”
Mira opened her mouth to respond, but Noe cut her off.
“Mira?” His voice carried up the stairs, taut with anger. “We’re going home.”
Mira and Parvati (who had never heard Noe sound that infuriated) scrambled toward the stairwell. Rukmini joined them in an instant.
“Hey, Sparkles,” she said, “what’s happening?”
“No idea,” Mira replied. “My dad sounds mad, though.”
Noe was at the foot of the stairs. Rohini stood beside him, frowning at Jules.
“Are you ready to go?” Noe asked.
“Sure,” Mira said. “But, um, Papa? What’s going on?”
Noe shot a sharp glance at Jules. “We’ll discuss it later,” he said. “C’mon.”
Rukmini opened her mouth to argue, but Mira fixed her with a warning look.
Then, Mira followed her father. The Belizaires departed. The house seemed strangely empty without them. And Parvati could only think of one thing that would anger them so badly.
“Grandma?” she asked, looking down at Jules from the top of the stairs. “Were the police —?”
“What is done is done,” Jules said quietly.
“Then they haven’t betrayed us,” Parvati said.
“Gran? Parv?” Rukmini said. “What is going on?”
Parvati ignored her sister. Her grandmother didn’t reply. Parvati went down the stairs. “Surely those officers aren’t corrupted?” she asked again, almost begging.
Jules reached down and stroked Parvati’s hair, a wistful, bitter expression in her eyes. “Anyone who fights the vampires now has as good as dug their own grave,” she said.
Rukmini groaned, following Parvati down. “This is ridiculous. The police couldn’t have decided to backstab us for a monster, in like a day.”
“Vampires always research the towns they haunt,” Jules said morosely. “Information’s easier to get than ever.”
“Besides,” Parvati said, “the police chief’s only kid is struggling with cancer. She’ll need the most expensive doctor in the country to help.”
“You know that?” Rukmini asked. Realization glanced across her expression. “Oh. You researched it after those homeless guys died, didn’t you?”
“The police chief had a GoFundMe page,” Parvati said quietly. Jules had given some money after she begged; the chief officer was beloved by his subordinates. But all that money couldn’t make a dent in the near million his kid needed for her doctor.
She hated he’d betrayed them. She knew he had reason to.
Desperation gripped her: Jules was a vampire hunter, and hunters brought day to the darkest nights. “We can help them,” she pleaded. “The Mayor will listen. At least warn the fire department.”
“Forget the fire department,” Rukmini said, almost panicky. “Why can’t we just call the FBI?”
“We can’t,” Parvati replied. “Legally, the government won’t interfere in a vampiric crisis unless the town in question lacks an Anti-Vampire League, or over thirty people have been killed and or transformed.”
Rukmini crossed her arms. “That’s a stupid law.”
“It was passed during the Reconstruction,” Jules said. “The country’s defenses were stretched thin. But if we get involved, we’ll just make things worse.”
Parvati studied her grandmother, trying to find a trace of the powerful woman who’d faced a vampire and their ally alone, in a shop choked with corpses. But it was as if Jules the Vampire Hunter had been replaced by a saddened husk.
Jules looked up, and for an instant, that icy strength blazed through her face again. Unfortunately, that intensity was directed at her granddaughters. It was so hard to bear, Parvati related to the vampires Jules cowed.
“We are not getting involved with vampires,” Jules said. “End of discussion.”
Rukmini lowered her head, but Parvati forced herself to meet Jules’ gaze.
“Can anything change your mind?” She asked.
“Of course not.”
…
Parvati returned to her bedroom and investigation board. She didn’t want to disobey her grandmother. She needed Jules’ help. Lacking both, she swallowed her fear and made do.
She recollected the hours before the murders. It was hard: the faces of weeping Adam, and the bloodied couple he helped slay haunted her.
The dripping handprints leading to the Employees Only room suggested the vampire came from inside the building. Perhaps they knew their victims? Or they could have snuck in through a far-off window or back door.
There’d been some teens near the Indian store. A woman walking by the strip mall. And a man with a scruffy beard, wearing a raggedy coat. He’d been reading something. She’d seen him after the murders.
Parvati and Jules had been at Adam Escapist’s Coffee and Antiques for at least two hours. Maybe the raggedy man saw something.
She sketched the man from memory, put his picture on the board, and covered the board with the sheet.
Her investigation was week-long. She watched footage, read articles and interviews about the four murders. Parvati tried to call the mayor’s office, but the waiting line was over five hours long, and Jules had a nasty habit of peeking into her room.
“No studying vampires!” She’d shout.
Throughout the week, the Belizaires called Jules. Their pleas for her to help fell on deaf ears. Rukmini texted Mira so frequently she sometimes neglected weight-lifting.
It was on Friday that Parvati put her plan into action. Rukmini insisted on accompanying her.
“Mira and I want to meet at the bookstore,” she said.
As she clambered out of the car, she gave Parvati a thoughtful look, and wished her an unusually solemn good luck.
Parvati felt she needed it. She was at the strip mall right beside Adam Escapist’s Coffee and Antiques. The coffeehouse\novelty shop was plastered with neon Do Not Cross tape. A black cop car idled in its parking lot. People traveled in groups, left stores quickly. Laughter ran thin. The grim atmosphere contrasted with the summery air like a parasitic worm in a ripe apple.
The store owners were obliging. If any were suspicious of her age, Parvati said, I’m Jules Dawns’ granddaughter.
She had to overcome the usual skepticism: folk saw her complexion and assumed she couldn’t be related to Jules, a White woman. But time and unwanted practice meant Parvati easily overcame such rubbish.
And when she convinced them, hope returned to their faces. Some even confided that the local vampiric activity was making people reluctant to go outside, which hurt sales. Others felt distaste at the polices’ handling of the investigation. The officers hadn’t questioned store owners, or passerbys, at all.
Parvati explained the police chief’s situation, and that, rather than being a vampire, Adam was working with them.
Nobody had seen anything suspicious at Adam’s place. Shopkeepers assumed he’d contacted his vampire online, and traveled to receive the transforming bite. Others thought that he was a domesticated vampire, and a family tragedy had caused his feral nature to resurface.
The idea that he contacted the vampire online made sense. Parvati figured Adam let the vampire in through the back door, as it was out of sight of the strip mall.
As for the raggedy man…
His name was Hector Blair. A heroin addiction drove him out of his house and onto the streets. But he was a kind fellow, and Adam and other local shopkeepers let him stay around their businesses.
Parvati said her goodbyes, and got Rukmini. Rukmini, face downcast, held a ruby-red rose.
“It’s for Mira,” she said. “She didn’t come.”
“She’ll come next time,” Parvati said. “You bought that rose for her?”
“Yeah,” Rukmini said, “bought it for the price of zero dollars, extra sneak.”
“Did you steal —”
Rukmini glanced up. Her eyes widened when she saw the irritated shopkeeper. “Gun it, sister.”
Parvati did as asked.
“Parv?” Rukmini said, as they drew close to their grandmother’s three-story colonial, “why is there a cop car in the driveway?”
Parvati’s hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel. “Salt’s in the compartment on the dashboard.”
Parvati pulled the car to a stop on the curbside, away from their driveway. As one, the sisters tiptoed forward.
The air was warm, but Parvati felt cold. The last — and only — time she’d been in this position, two people had been murdered.
But the air smelled of flowers and rich earth, not blood. Sunset painted the world in pinks and oranges.
Parvati stopped at a window, and peered through.
Her heart stuttered.
Jules leaned heavily on her cane, gripping the half-heart jewel on her choker with white-knuckled fingers. A policewoman stood over her, holding out —
She’s showing her a screen, Parvati realized.
“Is she a traitor?” Rukmini asked.
“No way of knowing,” Parvati said.
The girls stuffed the salt packets into their pockets, and entered their house. The officer greeted them with a terse nod. Jules barely smiled.
“Mira Belizaire has disappeared,” Jules said softly.
Parvati’s throat closed. She numbly heard Rukmini’s disbelieving exclamation. Her sister gripped the rose so tightly its petals fell to the floor.
Silently, the officer turned the screen toward them.
Rukmini dropped the stolen rose. Parvati’s blood turned to ice.
The screen showed a stately oak tree. Words written in a scarlet, dripping liquid were scrawled across its ancient trunk.
Jules Dawns. The Belizaire girl is gone because of you.