Secret Transfic Autumn Anthology / #6

Creatures of the Night

by Zoe Storm

A girl sees another girl get harassed in a club, and goes to help her; they get to talking, and hit it off. Sounds boring? Well, what if one of those girls was...

 

I noticed her the moment she entered the club.

Unlike most other people, who filtered in in groups of twos and threes, sometimes more, she was alone: she walked in and glanced around, the subdued lighting playing across her pretty face and her short, pixie-cut black hair. It seriously looked like she’d never seen the inside of a club, and she started wandering around, looking around in wonder, without paying attention to where she was going.

And, of course, she bumped right into a guy twice her size, making him spill most of his drink.

“What the fuck, mate!” the guy shouted, audible even over the thrumming of the music. “Fucking watch where you’re going!”

The girl’s reply was drowned out by the loudness of the room, but I saw her take a step back, and raise her hands defensively; in response, the guy stepped towards her and squared his shoulders, clearly trying to intimidate her.

I felt my lips instinctively draw back, exposing my teeth. I started to stand up–

“Easy there, girl,” Giselle said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s try some diplomacy first, before murdering anyone.”

I bristled a bit, but nodded, realising she was right; I let my tense muscles relax – just a little bit – as I started moving towards the pair.

By then, the girl seemed to be on the verge of tears: she was shrinking back as much as possible, trying to make herself invisible, but the guy was relentlessly bearing down on her.

She almost jumped out of her skin when I put my arm around her shoulders.

“There you are!” I exclaimed, smiling widely. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Uh…” she said.

“Come on, let me buy you a drink! We’re here to celebrate after all,” I continued, starting to steer her away from the guy and towards the bar.

“You know her?” the guy growled.

I stopped, and turned towards him. “Yeah, she’s my friend. Is there a problem?”

“Your friend owes me a drink!” he snapped. “And drinks in this bloody club cost quite a bit!” He paused, and looked at me: his eyes were a bit unfocused, he was clearly already more than a bit drunk. “Say, you’re a pretty bird. Maybe you can–”

“Maybe she can what, big guy?” Giselle purred, leaning against him. “Buy you a drink?”

“Uh. Yes,” he said, clearly surprised by my friend’s sudden appearance – seriously, how did Giselle do it? When she wanted to, she seemed to just meld into shadow, and reappear somewhere else, graceful as ever.

Giselle giggled. “Well then,” she said, running a finger across the guy’s arm, up to his neck, and along his chin, “maybe I can buy that drink for you?”

Even with his mind hazed by the several drinks he’d clearly already put away, the dude was remarkably quick on the uptake. “Oh, yes. Of course,” he said. “I would love to.”

“Come along, then,” Giselle said, her voice deep and sultry. “Let’s find a quiet corner so we can relax and… have a drink.”

She grabbed the guy by the arm and started to lead him away.

“Don’t drink too much, Gee,” I said. “I don’t want to have to clean up your mess again.”

Giselle stuck her tongue out playfully at me, and they were off. I watched them go for a few moments, then turned towards the girl, who’d all but froze in my embrace.

“Well then. Can I get ya a drink?” I asked, smiling at her.

“Uh… Um…” she stammered.

“Oh, come on, don’t be so nervous,” I said, releasing her and stepping back. “I promise I don’t bite. Much.” I offered her my hand. “What do you say?”

She looked at me and then, hesitantly, took my hand, and let me guide her to the bar; when we reached it, I waved at the guy standing behind the counter.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” I said. “And she’ll get…”

I turned to look at the girl, and it took her a moment to realise I was asking for her order. “Um, do you have wine?”

I smiled patiently at her. “This kind of place doesn’t really do wine. First time?” She nodded in response, so I turned back to the bartender. “Something sweet with low alcohol, please,” I said, to which he nodded, and made our drinks in short order. I grabbed my glass and handed the girl hers, and guided her away from the bar and to a couch.

“Well then!” I said, raising my glass after we’d sat down next to each other. “To our meeting! May this be the first of many.”

She looked at me for a second, and then clinked her glass against mine. “Cheers,” she said, and took a sip. “This is really good. Do you want to try it?”

“Maybe I’ll get a taste later,” I replied. “My name’s Florence, sweetie. And you are?”

“…Violet,” she answered, looking shyly at me over her glass. “If that’s okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay? It’s nice to meet you, Vi.”

Her blushing at the nickname was visible even under the blue-purple lights of the club. “Nice to meet you too, Miss Florence.”

I giggled. “Just Florence. Or Flo or Effie if you’re feeling particularly bold.” I took a sip of my own drink and swished it around inside my mouth, tasting the gin, before swallowing. “Can I give you some advice, Vi?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“You really shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said. “If you do, anyone could put anything in your glass without you noticing, and then you’d be in big trouble.”

Violet blinked at me, and then held her glass up and looked at it askance; I laughed.

“No, don’t worry, it’s perfectly good. Didn’t do anything to it. But I’m a nice girl. Mostly. Other people might not be, like that guy back there.”

She nodded again. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” I answered. “I can’t stand bullies; I would’ve just punched his lights out, but Gizzie suggested I try to be… diplomatic.”

“Gizzie?”

“That girl you saw. Giselle. She’s my friend.”

Violet tilted her head to the side and looked at me with interest. “Friend, or friend?” she asked.

I smiled at the question: maybe she wasn’t as naive as I’d initially thought. “Just a friend,” I replied. “She and I go way back, known each other forever. But she likes boys, so there can’t be anything between us.”

“And what about you? Do you like boys?”

My glass stopped halfway to my lips, and I gave Violet a surprised look: she was smirking cheekily at me. “No comment,” I replied, taking a sip. “You said it’s your first time in a club?”

She seemed a bit disappointed at the chance of subject, but nodded. “Yeah, it’s… kind of overwhelming, actually. So many people, so much noise, it’s dark, and everything is blue and purple. I feel like I’ve stepped into an unknown world and I’m in sore need of someone to guide me.”

I kept looking at her. “How old are you, Violet?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two? And you’ve never been in a club before?”

“I haven’t,” she answered. “I don’t really get out of the house that much. My dad, he… he doesn’t really approve.” She paused. “I kinda sneaked out tonight.”

God. Twenty-two and still apparently living at home, with an overbearing dad, who didn’t allow her to just go out and have fun. This poor gal.

“Well then.” I pounded back what remained of my drink, and stood up. “Let me show you around. Starting with the dance floor.” I offered her my hand: she took it, and let me pull her to her feet.

-----

Laughing uproariously, we crashed through the doors and stepped out onto the street. “His face, did you see his face!” Vi exclaimed, doubling over with laughter, trying to catch her breath. “How bloody wide his eyes went when you said, ‘Actually, she’s with me.’ You’re incredible, Flo.”

“I’ve had practice,” I said; I glanced at the clock in a nearby shop window, and saw it was already past two in the morning. “I thought we might pop over to another club, but it’s quite late. Or early, depending on how you see it. Do you need to be getting home?”

“I really should, yes,” she answered. “My dad probably hasn’t even noticed I’m gone, but I will still have to explain why I’m so sleepy tomorrow morning.”

“This morning, you mean,” I grinned, and she smiled back; I looked around, trying to orient myself, and pointed along the street. “I think the nearest tube station is that way.”

She shook her head. “No, I live near here. I’ll just walk home.”

Near here? In central London? I thought. “I’m coming along, then,” I said. “It’s not safe for a girl to be out alone at night.”

“But what about you? If you walk me home, then you’ll have to go home on your own.”

“I’ll call for a taxi or take an Uber, don’t worry,” I said. “And I can take care of myself quite well, in any case.”

Violet gave me a curious look, but nodded. “This way, then,” she said, and started off along the street, with me by her side.

As we walked through the streets, I just couldn’t keep my eyes off her. God, she was gorgeous: she had a kind of understated, girl-next-door beauty to her. Her hair was very short, her body slim, and she’d clearly carefully done her make-up, highlighting her beautiful deep blue eyes. I felt like I could just stare at her forever, just drink all of her in.

“Well… here we are,” she said, stopping in front of a set of double-doors; I shook myself – I’d been too intent on watching her as we walked to pay attention to where we were going – and looked up, taking in the building… which made me do a double-take.

To say it loomed over me would have been an understatement. It was at least five or six floors tall if I had to judge, the exterior white stone and brown brick: it seemed to occupy the entire block, and was surrounded by a wrought-iron fence; the black-and-gold doors were flanked by a pair of thin columns, which looked like they were marble. Looking around, I realised we were in one of the poshest areas of the city, where people with more money than sense lived – those who didn’t realise you could likely buy a mansion in Surrey for half the money a flat around these parts cost.

“You live here?” I asked in surprise.

Vi gave me a shy smile, and a small nod. “With my dad.”

“Whoa,” I commented.

She seemed to hesitate. “Do… Do you mind?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all, it’s just…” I paused. “I swear I didn’t approach you in the club because I thought you were rich. I just thought you looked…”

When I didn’t finish the sentence, she looked at me curiously. “I looked… what?” she asked.

“Well… you looked like a nice girl,” I said, and the smile she beamed my way melted my heart.

She grasped my hands, and stepped close to me. “Will I see you again?” she asked.

I looked at her carefully before replying. It had been a long time since I’d last been involved with someone; for people like me, forming attachments is often unwise. But still, I found myself wanting to see Violet again, to get to know her, to spend time with this girl.

In fact…

Oh, fuck this.

“May I come in?” I asked.

Vi blinked, startled, and then looked at me. Her eyes met mine, and we gazed at each other for a moment; I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her close.

She opened her mouth, took a deep breath–

“No! No, fuck no, absolutely the fuck not. You can not come in.”

Violet and I both looked up in surprise: the building’s doors had been flung open, and through them a short, balding, middle-aged man, wearing a fancy set of pyjamas, was glaring at us.

“I forbid you to come in,” he continued, pointing a finger straight at me.

“Father!” Violet exclaimed. “I–”

“Get into the house, Paulie,” Violet’s father snapped, and she flinched as if she’d been slapped

I gave a start of surprise: Paulie?

I looked down at her, at the fearful expression in her eyes as they darted from me to her father and back again.

“I… I can explain,” Violet began, and I realised her voice was on the verge of breaking. “I…”

He held up a hand, and she shut up immediately. “Not another word,” he growled out. “Get. Into. The. House.” Then his eyes flicked upwards, and met mine. “As for you, monster, I suggest you leave right this moment.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he just say…?

“Oh, yes. I know what you are,” he said. “Leave. Now. Or else the Elders will hear of this.”

I separated from Violet, stepping back, and stared a challenge at the man. “The Elders do not concern themselves with matters such as these.”

“They will concern themselves, once I tell them what you were doing,” he rebutted.

“And what was I doing, exactly?”

“You were trying to ensnare my son. To beguile him. To make him…” He looked at Violet, and scoffed. “You were trying to gain his trust, so you could infiltrate my house. Infiltrate my family.”

I shook my head. “No, that was not my intention.”

“Why else would he be dressed like… Like this?” Violet’s father said, gesturing towards her; he still hadn’t set foot beyond the threshold.

Violet gulped. “Father, I…”

“Shut up, Paulie!” he shouted; then, keeping a careful eye on me, he reached out, grabbed Violet’s arm, and dragged her inside the building. “Leave here now, vampire,” he said, in a low voice. “I don’t want my son to get any further ideas.”

He slammed the door closed.

-----

“Good MOR-ning, Effie!” Giselle exclaimed, entering the door to the flat we shared. “I’ve had the most wonderful night! That guy was surprisingly good company while he could still talk, and he tasted quite good, too.” She smacked her lips. “Though with a bit of a sour aftertaste. Steroids, maybe.”

Without even moving from the table I was half-lying on, I grabbed the bottle of gin next to me and wordlessly lifted it up.

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do!” she said: she snatched the bottle from me, and took a long swig. “Ah, much better. And what about you? Was that girl tasty?” she asked, mussing my hair.

My only reply was a grumble.

“Well, someone is in a bad mood,” Giselle said. “What is it? Why are you so upset? Come on, tell Big Sis everything.”

I lifted my head an inch and looked at her: she was smiling earnestly at me. I sighed. “Alright,” I said, and launched into a description of what had happened with Violet the previous night; when I was done, Giselle’s expression had turned serious.

“And where did you say she lives?” she asked.

“Covent Garden,” I replied, and grabbed my phone. “The exact address…”

“No, I don’t need that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I know precisely who her dad is. William Chapel, Baron Bridgewater of Almsworth. He’s a Partner.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “A Partner? …Yeah, that would make sense. That’s how he knew who I was.”

Giselle nodded. “He’s likely dealt with our kind enough times that he can recognise the small tells that give us away.”

“Yeah,” I nodded back. “I don’t much like it, to be honest. To be able to pass is one of our biggest advantages: the fact that there are humans out there who can identify us on the spot is unnerving, to say the least.”

“I don’t like it either, but that’s how it is,” Giselle said, and then paused, before continuing: “You really should avoid seeing… Violet, was it? You shouldn’t see her again. It would be… unwise.”

Yeah, it would be unwise, wouldn’t it? Partners are untouchable. While there isn’t any sort of formal rule about it, Elders are known to come down like a ton of bricks on anyone who dares hurt a Partner in any way: they’re just too useful, helping vampires navigate human society in ways which are impossible for us… and being handsomely compensated in return, of course. It’s not a coincidence that most billionaires and many politicians – including nearly all US Presidents, and all Conservative Prime Ministers since Thatcher – are Partners.

But still…

“What if I do?” I asked. “See her again, I mean.”

Giselle glared sternly at me. “I won’t stop you. And I won’t tell anyone. But I seriously advise against it. You would be putting yourself in a difficult position, and for what?”

“For Violet.”

My friend’s gaze softened. “Effie. I know you see a lot of yourself in her, but you can’t help every trans girl with a hostile family out there.”

I looked at her for a while. “I have to try, at least,” I finally said.

Giselle sighed, and shook her head. “At least promise me you’ll be careful about it?”

“I promise, Gee,” I nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

-----

That evening, as soon as the sun set, I made my way to Covent Garden again, keeping watch on the building. I didn’t have to wait that long, though: after about an hour, a door at the top floor opened, and Violet stepped onto the attic’s terrace. She was wearing men’s clothing, of course, which didn’t suit her at all; she stood there for a while, looking out onto the London skyline, and then she sighed, and turned around to go back inside.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” I said.

Violet turned around, and her eyes widened when she saw me just floating there over the street, a few feet from the railing.

“It is the east, and Violet is the sun,” I continued, giving her my best smile. “Good evening, sweetheart.”

She looked at me for a moment, then shook herself, and took a step away from the railing. “Stay back!” she said; she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small crucifix, which she brandished in my direction. “Stay back!”

I laughed. “Did your father give you that?”

She blinked. “Uh… yes,” she said. “After he explained to me who… what you are.”

“So now you know. It’s good to be on the same page. And I’m sorry, but that’s not going to do anything,” I said. “I’m going to tell you a secret: it’s not the symbol that repels us vampires, but faith itself. You have to actually believe in what the symbol represents, otherwise it’s completely useless. And since I don’t feel any compulsion to turn away…”

Violet looked at me for a moment, and then looked away. “It’s been a while since I last prayed to God,” she admitted in a whisper.

I nodded. “That’s quite common, yes. What about your dad?”

“He…” she began, then hesitated. “He’s Evangelical. In theory. I think he only pretends to be religious, though, for…”

“…Political and social reasons,” I concluded, and Violet nodded. “I know how it is. But you have nothing to fear from me in any case, as long as you stay inside your house – and yes, the terrace counts as ‘inside’ as far as the Geas is concerned.”

She looked at me curiously. “The Geas?”

“A Geas is a–”

“A magical compulsion to carry out some action or command, or to refrain from doing something,” she cut me off. “I’ve played D&D.” She paused. “I’ve read the manuals.”

I looked at her for a moment, then snickered. “Sometimes I forget just how much vampire stuff leaks through to human society,” I commented. “But yes, that’s precisely right. All vampires have a Geas placed on them.”

I floated forward, right up to the edge of the terrace; Violet stepped back further, but didn’t run away as I feared she would.

“See here?” I said, pushing hard onto thin air, and then knocking on it – there was no noise, of course, but the movement of my hand was unmistakable. “I literally cannot enter any private property without being invited in by someone who has the authority to do so: in this case, that would be you or your dad. So as long as you’re in there, I can’t touch you.”

Violet looked at me sceptically. “But couldn’t you… I don’t know, find some other way of hurting me? Like, throwing something at me?”

I smiled. “Clever girl,” I said. “But the answer is no. Hold on a second.” I rooted around in my purse, and pulled out my wallet, from which I retrieved a coin, which I showed to Vi. “See this? Okay, catch.”

I lobbed the coin at her, underhand: she flinched, startled, and got ready to grab it. It sailed across the air in a lazy arc… before bouncing off an invisible barrier above the terrace’s railing; Violet blinked in surprise.

“See?” I continued, snatching the coin out of the air before it fell down to the street below. “Private property is private property. I cannot do anything to it, or to anything inside it, without permission.”

She gave me a curious look. “How do you go in shops then? Or pubs?”

“Those are different,” I explained. “They’re private property, yes, but they’re open to everyone by definition, so the Geas doesn’t apply to them. If I was explicitly barred from a place by someone who had the authority to do so, though, then it would be off-limits for me.” I smirked. “Giselle is still banned from the whole of Scotland. Played one prank too many on Mary.”

“Mary?” Violet asked, puzzled.

“Queen of Scots.”

She blinked. “No, wait, how old are you again?”

“Not that old,” I laughed. “Gizzie is much older, and some of the Elders have been around for literally thousands of years. As for me… I’m younger than the steam engine, but older than the Space Shuttle.”

“That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

I smiled at her. “Well, maybe when we get to know each other better, I’ll tell you all about my life.”

“That implies I want to get to know you better, though,” she said.

I pouted. “What, you don’t want to?”

She seemed to hesitate. “I… I kinda want to, yes. You’re the first person who ever talked to me as if I was a human being.”

I looked at her in surprise. “Not even your friends? Or your schoolmates?”

“What friends? What schoolmates?” she rebutted, smiling bitterly. “I’ve never been to school, and my tutors have always treated me like I was made of glass; I’ve left the house maybe thrice in the past year. Counting last night.”

Oh, this poor girl, I thought. I’d heard about being sheltered, but this sheltered? What was even up with Baron Bridgewater? Why was he so afraid of letting his child live her life?

Violet shook her head. “So yes, I want to talk to you. But how, exactly? My dad has hired someone to guard the door, to prevent me from going out again, and you can’t come in, so…”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” I said, matter-of-factly. “I’ll just come by every evening and wait out here for you. If you want to talk, just step out on the terrace.”

Violet frowned, and leaned over the railing, looking down into the street, and then at the buildings around us. “Won’t someone see you out here?” she asked.

“They won’t,” I answered. “I have a glamour on. They can technically see me, but since people don’t usually fly, the glamour makes them dismiss me as a figment of their imagination. As a detail their mind sort of glosses over.”

“Like a Someone Else’s Problem field?”

It was my turn to frown. “A what?”

“Douglas Adams reference.”

“Don’t know him, sorry.”

Violet smiled. “I’ll lend you the books, then.”

I nodded. “Looking forward to it. And, by the way, you shouldn’t lean over the railing like that.”

She looked up at me. “Are you afraid I could fall?”

“No, I would catch you if you did,” I said, smiling at her. “It’s just that your arms and head are technically outside the house, so if I wanted to, I could just grab you and pull you out.”

She blinked, straightened up, and took a step back. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to trust me, Violet,” I said. “I want you to know I won’t hurt you. Ever.”

“But… you’re a vampire.”

“That I am.”

“Don’t vampires kill people? By sucking their blood?”

“No, we usually don’t,” I replied. “You can drain a surprising amount of blood from someone before it kills them, you know.”

“…That doesn’t really inspire confidence.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it doesn’t, does it? But also, the fact that I can suck your blood doesn’t mean I will suck your blood. Not unless you allow me to. Unlike some other vampires, I do this stuff by consent.”

She tilted her head to the side, and looked at me curiously. “Don’t you need blood to survive, though?”

“No, I don’t,” I shook my head. “I eat normal food. I need blood to maintain my powers, though: when I don’t feed for a while, I’m just a normal girl who can’t go out during the day.”

“And where do you usually get your blood?”

“We have an… understanding with blood banks. And also,” I grinned, “you’d be surprised at just how many people will actually ask you to suck their blood once they know you’re a vampire. It’s a pretty widespread kink.”

Violet blushed. “Oh,” she murmured, and my grin turned into a smirk: well, well, well.

“You know, if–” I began to say, but I was interrupted by the door to the terrace opening; I dropped downwards as fast as I could and flattened myself against the wall of the building, below the railing.

“Paulie?” I heard Baron Bridgewater’s voice ask. “What are you doing out here, son?”

Violet’s voice, surprisingly, sounded quite irritated when she answered: “I’m getting some fresh air, Father. Since you won’t let me out of the house…”

“We’ve been over that,” the baron said. “It’s too dangerous. Remember what happened last night?”

“I don’t think I actually was in any danger, though,” Violet said.

“No lip from you, young man,” her father replied in a stern voice. “Now let’s go back inside, it’s time for dinner. I bought pizza.”

“…Yes, Father.”

I heard footsteps retreating from the railing, and I peeked over the edge of the terrace: Violet was following her father inside, but she turned back briefly and her eyes caught mine.

“See you tomorrow,” I mouthed at her, and winked; she smiled back to me before walking into her room and shutting the door.

-----

“I’m back,” I said, walking into the flat.

“Welcome back,” Giselle replied, looking up from her phone. “How did it go?”

“It went well,” I replied. “I think.”

“You think?”

I nodded. “Violet didn’t scream or call for help, she just tried to keep me at bay with a crucifix until I explained why it wouldn’t work. Then we talked for a bit, and we kinda agreed on continuing to meet.” I frowned. “Then her dad showed up, and I had to hide.”

Giselle looked at me curiously. “Seems to me it went well, period. Why the ‘I think,’ Flo?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, shaking my head. “It’s just that… she’s too sheltered. She told me she only left the house three times in the past year, and she had to sneak out on one of those occasions.”

My friend frowned. “Weird.”

“I think there’s something going on with her dad. Something she’s not telling me, or that she doesn’t know about.”

She looked at me for a while, without speaking, then asked: “Want me to look into it?” When I looked at her in surprise, she smiled, and continued, “I can see this means a lot to you, Florence, so I’m going to help you.”

I reached over to her and squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you, Giselle.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, nodding in acknowledgement. “You’re a good person, Flo. I was right when I chose to turn you.”

“Even though I didn’t speak to you for twenty years?” I laughed.

“Yes, even despite that,” she said with a smirk. “I’m glad you came around and saw things from my perspective after a while, though.”

I nodded, and gave her shoulder another squeeze.

-----

“Good evening, Violet,” I said, floating up to the terrace.

Violet smiled at me. “Good evening, Florence.”

“Oh, good, you remember my name,” I replied, reciprocating the smile.

“It’s hard to forget someone like you.”

My smile turned into a grin. “It’s nice to know I made an impression.” Then, after a pause, I continued, “So what did you do today?”

She shrugged. “Same old. Being stuck inside the house all day doesn’t leave many options. I’ve read some books, went on the Internet. Tried a new recipe for lunch.”

“Was it good?”

“Hm,” she said, pursing her mouth. “Too much smoked paprika for my tastes, I’ll have to cut that in half next time I make it. The taste is just too overpowering. And the main problem is, the ingredient quantities are way off: the recipe I read was supposed to be for four servings, but it’s more like six or seven. I almost filled up the fridge with it, it’s going to be lunch or dinner for a week at least.”

“Can I help you with that?” I asked, and she looked at me in surprise. “I told you I eat normal food, didn’t I? And I skipped dinner tonight to be here in time.” I beamed a smile at her. “And I’d really love to taste your cooking.”

Violet nodded. “Alright. Then, come…” she began, then blinked and stopped; she looked at me askance. “Is this a way to trick me into inviting you in?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Vi,” I answered. “I was completely, absolutely serious when I said I’d like to eat something you made, there was no hidden intent in that. Though I do commend you for catching yourself like that.”

Her dubious look disappeared, and she smiled. “See? I’m learning.”

“That you are.”

“I’ll be right back,” Violet said, and she walked off the terrace and into her room. I was left just floating there, alone with my thoughts – which, at the moment, were filled with her face – until she came back, carrying a steaming plate and a fork. She walked up to the edge of the terrace, and then hesitated. “Um… how do we do this?” she asked.

“Just leave it on the railing, halfway out,” I replied. “I’ll grab it from there.”

She nodded, and did as I’d told her; I took hold of the plate, pulled it out, and gave it a tentative sniff. “Chicken?” I asked.

Violet nodded again. “Chicken thighs with cumin, tarragon, and smoked paprika, with curried lentils on the side.” She paused. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“Seriously?” I said, and grinned widely, exposing my fangs. “Do you really think someone like me would be a vegetarian?”

“Well, there’s this book where–”

“Let’s not talk about that, please,” I said. “That book, and the movie, is not an accurate representation of what we’re like. We absolutely do not sparkle in the sunlight.” I lowered my voice, and whispered conspiratorially, “Though some of the Elders are so fond of gold and jewellery that they do sparkle. Not in the sunlight, though, in the moonlight.”

Vi giggled as I stabbed a piece of meat with the fork and put it in my mouth; I chewed and swallowed. “Tastes good,” I said, after trying the lentils too. “Though you’re right, there’s too much smoked paprika in here. What did your dad think about this?”

She seemed to be taken aback by the question: she blinked, and then looked away. “He, um… He doesn’t taste my cooking. At all.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“He’s out all day, every day, and only comes back in the evening, or late at night. And when he does, he says he’s already eaten, or brings take-out along.”

My frown deepened. “And you’ve never asked him to try what you made?”

“…Once,” she replied. “It was one of my first attempts at doing a Punjabi dish. He deemed it disgusting, and said it was disgraceful I was debasing myself by making, um… Pakistani food. Only he didn’t say ‘Pakistani.’ He threw the plate against the wall, and stormed to his room.” She gulped. “I haven’t tried asking him since.”

I looked at her, carefully keeping my expression as neutral as I could, while in reality I was burning inside: I couldn’t get into Violet’s house, true, so I couldn’t touch her father while he was in there, but it would have been so simple to just ambush him as soon as he stepped outside, sink my fangs into his neck, and–

I grit my teeth, and shook my head. No, Florence. Not yet. First of all, if I’d done that, there would’ve been dire consequences for me, since Baron Bridgewater was a Partner; and, second, maybe I didn’t need to do that? Maybe Giselle would come back with some relevant information, which could help me make sense of this whole situation, and maybe resolve it in Violet’s favour.

I finished my plate, cleaning every last speck of food off of it, and then placed it back on the railing. “Thanks for the food,” I said. “I better go now, before your dad comes back and sees me.”

“Hold on a second,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She half-ran inside her room, and came back in short order with a thick paperback book, which she placed on the railing; I picked it up, and read the title: “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Complete Edition, by Douglas Adams.”

Vi nodded. “We talked about this, remember?”

“Yeah,” I nodded back. “I’ll be sure to read it.” I looked at the book again: it had clearly been read many times over, again and again – the cover was almost falling off of it, hanging by a thread, and the paper had turned yellow a long time before.

“It was my mum’s,” Violet supplied, when she noticed me inspecting the book. “We used to read it together when I was little.”

“And where is she now?” I asked.

She shook her head, and I understood; I smiled at her. “I’ll take good care of it. Goodnight, Violet.”

“Goodnight, Florence,” she replied; I waved at her, and flew away.

-----

“I’m back!” Giselle announced cheerfully, walking into the flat and lifting the plastic bags she was carrying. “I got Indian!”

“Welcome back,” I said. “I already ate, sorry.”

“What!” she exclaimed, pouting. “But Thursday Night is Curry Night! Can’t say no to Curry Night!”

I laughed, and swatted at her playfully. “I know, but Violet had some leftovers from lunch. They were quite tasty, actually.”

She looked at me sceptically. “Tastier than curry?”

“No, probably not,” I conceded. “But she’d cooked it, so.”

“Alright,” Giselle nodded; she walked over to the kitchen table and started unloading takeaway containers onto it. “Join me, though? I have some news about Violet’s dad which I think you may want to hear.”

I nodded, stood up from the couch, and joined her at the table; she grabbed two forks from a drawer – “One for you, too, in case the smell whets your appetite” – and plopped down in a chair.

“Alright, so,” she said, popping open her curry container and dipping some naan into it. “Baron Bridgewater. Old family, lots of possessions all around the country, mansions all over. Right?”

“Right,” I nodded.

“Wrong. You’d think so, except not,” Giselle said. She chewed and swallowed her mouthful of food and continued, “You see, the baron does have possessions all over, but apparently they’re all heavily mortgaged. It seems that despite being a Partner, he has absolutely no idea how to properly handle money; but he thinks he knows better than anyone, contrary to all evidence, so he keeps doing things his own way.”

“That’s why he has a flat in Covent Garden,” I said.

Giselle nodded, and gestured expressively with her curry. “Precisely. What is that phrase you like to say? ‘More money than sense,’ I think it was.” I nodded, and she went on, “Things seemed to be looking up about a quarter century ago, when he married a nice girl from a rich family, who later died under mysterious circumstances–”

My eyebrows shot up towards the ceiling: wait, what?

“–but in short order he’d squandered her money too,” Giselle kept talking, apparently not noticing my reaction, “and now he’s all but scrambling to find anyone who will lend him some. Has been for the past ten, fifteen years I think.”

“I see,” I said. “Okay. Well, this is certainly a problem for him, but not that big of a problem, right? After all, even if he defaults on the debts, the worst that can happen is that he loses all his possessions and holdings. So I can’t see why he would be so frantic. I mean, losing money is losing money, but–”

“It’s not humans he owes money to, Florence,” Giselle said, shaking her head.

I looked at her for several seconds, then nodded. “Alright,” I carefully said. “What is the worst that can happen, then?”

“You know that story? The Most Dangerous Game? That,” she answered.

I blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Only mostly. Seriously, you know I’m quite highly placed in vampire society–”

“And I will never understand why you keep slumming it by hanging out with me.” She stuck her tongue, which had curry and naan all over it, out at me. “Aw, gross!” I laughed. “Don’t do that!”

Giselle laughed in return, and swallowed her mouthful of food. “But yeah, as I was saying, even I don’t know what happens to Partners who default on their obligations. It’s only happened a few times over the centuries; I think the Elders just decide the punishment on the spot, spur-of-the-moment.”

“I see,” I said. “And would this affect Violet?”

“I don’t think so,” my friend answered, using her fingers to scrape out the last of the curry out of the take-out container and licking them clean. “Even though you don’t hang around other vampires much, I think you know we all tend to be pretty big on personal responsibility.”

I nodded. “So the baron’s debts are his own.”

“I’m like 90% sure that’s the case. You’re seriously not gonna eat that?” she asked, pointing at my own curry, which was sitting unopened in front of me; I wordlessly slid it over to her. “Thanks.” She popped it open. “I’ll keep asking around, though. I wanna be 100% sure, since you seem to care about this girl, for whatever reason.”

“Thank you, Gee.”

“You can thank me by passing your naan over.”

-----

“Hi, Vi,” I said as I floated up to the terrace. “I started to read the book, I’m about halfway through the first part. I–”

I abruptly stopped talking, because Violet had looked up to me: she had a black eye, and a couple other wounds were visible on her face.

“God, Violet, what happened?” I asked, moving forward as much as I could – I obviously still couldn’t cross the invisible threshold that was the railing.

“I…” she began, and whimpered.

“Let me look at it,” I said, and she leaned over the railing; I took her face in my hands, turning it this way and that, inspecting the bruises. “Did your father do this to you?” I demanded.

“Yes,” she said, moving back – and I belatedly realised I hadn’t even thought about the fact that she’d made herself vulnerable to me. “It was… this morning. I got a package. I thought he would be out of the house by then, but he was running late, and he was here when it got delivered. He opened it, and…” She sobbed.

“What was in the package?” I asked, as delicately as I could.

“Clothes,” she answered. “Girl’s clothes.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. Of course.

“I have a stash hidden in one of the spare bedrooms,” Violet continued. “He doesn’t know about it. He thought it was the first time I’d ordered women’s clothing online, otherwise he’d have searched the house and thrown it all away, besides…” She gestured at her face.

“What about the dress you were wearing the night we met?”

She gulped. “That was my mum’s. We still have all her clothes, put away in boxes. I begged Dad not to throw them away. That night, when we came back, he forced me to take the dress off, and then locked everything – every single box – up in the closet. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this, son,’ he said. ‘You’re a man.’” She laughed bitterly.

I smiled. “You’re not a man, Violet. You and I both know that.”

“I sure look like one,” she said. “I mean, have you looked at me? Men’s clothing, a man’s haircut…” She paused. “A man’s body.”

“You could take hormones.”

“Do you think my father would allow that?” she rebutted. “God, I feel so… so trapped.”

“Then come with me,” I said, extending a hand towards her. “You don’t have to stay here. You can just leave.”

She looked at the hand, and then up at me. “To go where?”

“Anywhere you want,” I replied. “I will take you to places you never dreamed could possibly exist. I’ll show you the whole world if that’s what you want, Violet. Take my hand.”

She kept looking at me, and hesitantly reached out to grab my hand…

…but then stopped, and pulled back; once again she was inside her house, and out of my reach.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t just leave like this. I… I have to tell him. I have to ask him to let me go first.”

I shook my head in turn. “This is a bad idea, Vi. He won’t accept it.”

She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “I know. But I have to try, at least.” She looked up at me, an infinite sadness in her eyes. “He’s my father.”

I kept looking at her, and then shook my head yet again. “It’s your decision. I won’t force you to do anything. Just… be careful about it.”

She nodded. “I will.”

I gulped. “I’ll be back tomorrow, so you can tell me how it went. My offer still stands. It will always stand.”

“Thank you, Florence.”

I nodded at her, turned around, and flew away.

-----

“Flo! Florence! Are you here?” Giselle called out, crashing through the door.

I jumped up from the couch I was lying on, startled at the urgency in her voice. “I’m here, Gee. What’s happening?”

“I found out more about the baron,” she said, staring into my eyes. “And it’s a big thing.”

I nodded. “Tell me.”

“So you know how I told you about the baron’s debts? And how he married a nice girl from a rich family who died under mysterious circumstances?” I nodded again, and she went on, “Well, the two of them had a child a few years before she died. And that child is…”

“…Violet, of course,” I said. “Your point?”

“Violet’s grandparents, the baron’s in-laws, aren’t on speaking terms with him. But they’re at the head of a rich family. A very rich family. They’re not aristos, they’re not Partners, but they have loads and loads and loads of money. Which they’ve always refused to give to the baron. Well, it turns out the baron doesn’t need it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What do vampires love more than anything?” Giselle asked.

“Curry? You sure seem to love it.”

She swatted at me. “This is not the time, Effie. This is serious. And the answer is influence.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Influence?”

She nodded. “I found out that the baron has made a deal. This has been a long time coming, it’s been in the works for quite a while, at least a decade and a half if not more. He’s been in talks with a group of vampires, who’ve been slowly acquiring all the baron’s debts, consolidating them in one place, under their own control, and they’re finally done, having convinced the last few stubborn hold-outs to sell them their interests.”

“Yeah, okay. So?”

“So, they’re going to forgive the baron’s debts, and give him some money on top of that, in exchange for Violet.”

I stared at Giselle, the enormity of what she’d just said slowly becoming clear in my mind.

“So Violet is… She’s collateral?”

My friend nodded. “She is. And once the baron hands her over, the group of vampires I mentioned is going to use the fact that they have her as leverage to blackmail her grandparents, and influence,” she stressed that word, “their business decisions.”

“That’s why her father never let her out of the house,” I mumbled. “He was afraid something might happen to her. Because if she was gone, then that would blow up the entire deal.”

“Precisely.”

“…Fuck.”

I sat down heavily on the couch, and looked up at Giselle for a moment, then started staring into the void.

“What the fuck do we do now?” I asked.

It was a long time before Giselle replied, and when she did, her voice was incredibly sad. “There’s nothing we can do, Effie. The deal is done, and the exchange will happen tomorrow.”

“Then I’m going over tonight, and–”

“Flo. I’m sorry, but the baron is a Partner. You know how this goes: you can’t touch him. No one is above him, except the Elders.”

I blinked, her words registering in my mind; and an idea suddenly shot through my brain.

“That’s it!” I exclaimed, rising to my feet and starting to pace back and forth in the flat. “Her father is a Partner, true, but he’s still subject to the Elders’ will. If we get the Elders to guarantee Violet’s freedom, he won’t be able to touch her. No one will.”

“And how do you suppose you’re going to do that?” Giselle asked sceptically. “Are you just going to go knock on the Elders’ door and ask them nicely?”

I smiled. “That’s how these things usually go, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but you seem to be forgetting something, Flo,” my friend replied. “To ask something of the Elders, especially such a big thing, you need to be able to give something in exchange. And, simply put, you’re a wee lil’ baby. You haven’t lived nearly long enough to have anything worth trading for Violet’s freedom. Not to mention that you’ve always steadfastly refused to integrate yourself into vampire society: you lack the… ah… social capital.”

“I know,” I said, and I stopped pacing; then, after a significant pause, I turned to Giselle. “But you don’t. You have enough social capital. The Elders will listen to you if you ask them.”

She smiled patiently at me. “That’s quite a bit more involved than just looking up some information, Effie. I’d have to use all the leverage I have to convince them to help. All of it. I would be sticking my neck pretty far out for this. Now tell me: why would I do that?”

“Because I’m calling in my favour.”

Her smile vanished; her expression turned to shock. “You’re– seriously?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide.

I nodded. “Seriously.”

She looked at me for a long while, then shook her head in disbelief. “Sixty-seven years you’ve been sitting on that, and now you’re using it for… what? For a girl?”

I looked back for a moment, and then I shrugged. “Yeah. Guess I am.”

Giselle scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“Giselle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I’ll do it. I’ll talk to the Elders. I’ll get your girl her freedom.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Gee.”

She shook her head, and mumbled something which sounded distinctly like “The shit I put up with, I swear.”

-----

“Vi! Violet! Are you here?” I called. “Answer me!”

The door which separated the terrace from her bedroom opened, and she stepped out in a hurry. “Florence? What are you doing here again?” she asked. “And why are you being so loud? My dad came back half an hour ago, he’ll hear you! And he’s pissed off already, I didn’t even try talking to him yet.”

“This doesn’t matter,” I said. “Listen, I found out something really important. Something I need to tell you.”

She heard the seriousness in my voice, and she gulped and nodded. “Alright. Tell me.”

As quickly as I could while covering all important points, I relayed to her everything Giselle had told me about the deal, and about the fact that it involved her; by the time I was done, she was staring at me wide-eyed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“No,” she murmured. “No, I can’t believe my father would do such a thing. He would never.”

“I’m sorry, Violet, but this is how it is,” I said. “He’s been keeping you in the dark all this time.”

“No!” she shouted. “I–”

“What the hell is going on here?” I heard the baron’s voice say. “Paulie? It’s three in the morning, why are you – YOU!” he exclaimed, stopping in the doorway and staring at me. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

For once, I was momentarily at a loss as to what to say: after all, he and Violet were both inside the house, out of my reach, so the only thing I could do was talk, and I realised I needed to choose my words carefully.

“I–” I began.

“Florence told me you made a deal. With some vampires. A deal that involves me,” Violet said, her voice deadly serious and very quiet, but still perfectly audible in the still silence of the night; she looked up, and saw her eyes flash with anger before she turned to her father. “Is it true?”

Baron Bridgewater blinked. “Well, uh…”

“Is it true?” Violet demanded, marching across the terrace until she was right in her father’s face.

He held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. “…Yes,” he admitted. “It’s true. But I…”

“So I’m… what? Merchandise? Just a tool for you to use? Is this all I have been all my life?”

“No! Paulie, no, you’re…”

“I hate you!” Violet said, and she pushed the baron; he lost his footing, and tumbled backwards into her bedroom, momentarily bewildered.

Then he shook his head, and started to get up.

“Why, you little ungrateful…”

“Violet! The door! Quick!” I said; Violet hesitated just a moment, then slammed the door in her father’s face. “The chair!” I added, and she grabbed one of the chairs that were on the terrace and jammed it under the door’s handle.

“Open this door right now, young man, or there’ll be hell to pay!” I heard her father scream; there was a loud crashing noise: he’d evidently started to kick the door, which held.

“Oh, God,” Violet said, stepping away from the door until she was next to the terrace’s railing. “I’ve really made him mad this time. What do I do now?”

“Vi, I can help you,” I said. “I can help you. But for me to do that, you have to let me in.”

She looked at me, and then at the door, which was buckling under her father’s blows.

“Violet, listen to me,” I pleaded. “I can take you away. I will take you away. Far away from here, somewhere he will never find you. To a place where you can be yourself. But you have to trust me.”

She turned to look at me again, and I stared deep into her eyes.

“Violet. Please,” I said.

She looked at me for a second, and I could see the hesitation on her face.

The chair which had been propped under the doorknob finally gave way, and the door burst open.

Violet’s father shouted in triumph as he stepped over the threshold and onto the terrace. “Finally!” he exclaimed. “Now I’ll–”

“You can come in, Florence,” Violet said.

The baron froze; I smiled widely, floated forward, and landed by Violet’s side. “Good girl,” I whispered, and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Then I turned my gaze on her father.

“No!” he screamed, his face draining of colour and his eyes widening in panic. “Stay back!”

I launched myself towards him at incredible speed, grabbing him and pinning him bodily against the wall, knocking the air out of him; I opened my mouth wide, canines glinting under the moonlight, and–

“Stop!” Violet shouted, and I froze, my teeth touching, but not piercing, her father’s neck. “Stop,” she repeated. “Don’t hurt him.”

I turned my head slightly, and gave her a questioning look.

“He’s still my father,” she said.

I was sorely tempted to just bite down, to rid the world of this stain of a man, despite Violet’s pleading; but in the end, I just couldn’t let her down. I pulled back, and Baron Bridgewater breathed out a sigh.

His relief lasted barely a fraction of a second, however, because I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall once again.

“I could’ve drained every last drop of blood from your body,” I hissed. “And I would have. Gladly. Your daughter saved your life tonight. Try not to forget that.” I looked directly at him and smiled widely, as wide as I could, so he could see my teeth clearly.

“My son…” he began, despite himself.

I pushed him harder into the wall, making him gasp for breath. “Your daughter,” I repeated, my stare burning into him. “Her name is Violet. Fucking acknowledge it.”

It took him a moment, but he nodded, and I nodded back. “We’re leaving now,” I said. “Violet is coming with me of her own will. Her freedom is guaranteed by the Elders.”

The baron’s eyes widened.

“I see you understand what that means, as well as what the consequences will be if anyone, including you, tries to interfere with her choices,” I snarled. “I suggest you don’t try it.”

I let him go, and he dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks, without moving, barely breathing.

I turned my back on him, and walked over to Violet. “Come on,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulders.

She seemed to hesitate; she turned her head back towards her dad.

“Goodbye, Father.”

As we took flight and left her home behind, the last thing I heard was William Chapel, Baron Bridgewater of Almsworth, sobbing softly.

-----

“Hi, Effie,” Giselle said as we entered the flat. “How did it go?”

“About as well as it could’ve gone,” I replied. “This is Violet.”

“Violet!” Giselle exclaimed, stepping forward and hugging her. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you over these past few days. I’m Giselle.”

“The same Giselle who’s banned from Scotland?” Violet asked.

Giselle gasped. “You’ve heard of me! How nice! But yes, that’s me. Seriously, I’ve never met a more humourless person than Mary. What’s a small prank between cousins?”

Violet blinked in surprise. “You’re Mary Stuart’s cousin?”

“But of course!” Giselle exclaimed. “You see–”

I sighed. “No, she’s not. Don’t even start, Gee,” I said. “Please. Not tonight, at least, we’re both really tired.”

My friend’s lips drew back into a smirk. “Oh, tired, are you? Want to go to bed together?”

Violet blushed furiously, and I sighed even more deeply. “Giselle.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” she said, making a face. “By the way, things on my end went perfectly fine. I used my leverage, the Elders agreed to our terms, and the deal is done.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“That’s what big sisters are for, aren’t they? I’ll go put the kettle on.” She turned around and skipped over to the kitchen.

“She’s your sister?” Violet asked. “But you look nothing alike.”

“Only figuratively,” I said. “She’s the one who turned me, so she gets to claim that title.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Giselle called out.

Violet looked at me curiously. “Turned?” she asked.

“Into a vampire,” I clarified.

“…Okay,” she said. “And how does that work, exactly?”

In an instant, Giselle was with us again, appearing as if from nowhere by our side. “Why, are you interested?” she purred. “Because I would love to have a new kid sister! It’s been so long since I last showed someone the ropes!”

“Um,” Violet said, blinking in surprise and taking a step back.

“Hands off, Gee,” I growled. “She’s under the Elders’ protection, remember? That means she gets to choose if and when she gets turned. And by whom.”

Giselle flashed a grin at me. “And you want her to pick you, of course.”

I crossed my arms in front of myself. “As a matter of fact, I do. Got a problem with it?”

My friend waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, perish the thought! After all, I don’t even like girls. Come on now, tea’s ready.”

As we sat down around the table, taking sips from our mugs in companionable silence (Giselle had apparently decided to be quiet for once) I thought back to the events of the previous few days: my entire life, as well as Violet’s, had been upended, and we would have to adjust to the new normal. The first thing on the to-do list was to help her start her transition – if she wanted to, of course, but I had little doubt about that – as well as gradually introduce her to the world; it wouldn’t be easy, since she’d been sheltered for so long.

I was sure that over the following weeks and months, things would get complicated.

But as Violet’s hand found mine, and she smiled a beautiful smile at me, I was certain I’d made the right choice in helping her.

 

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. If you want to read more of my writing, check out my Patreon and my Scribblehub page!

— Zoe Storm

Secret Transfic Autumn Anthology / #6

Follow to catch Town Pariah on October 13th

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