I found out my dad knew vampires existed.

Just as I finished rinsing my plates in the sink and headed out into the hall, Dad got up from the table. “Scarlett,” his voice came out strained. My skin covered up in goose bumps. “Come with me to my study. Excuse us.”

“Hm.” Mom nodded without looking up from her laptop screen at the dining table.

“Is Scarlett grounded?” Marcus said with a frown.

“No, it’s all right. We’ll be out in minutes,” Dad said, turning his back to them, brushing shoulders with me in the hall, and walking into his study. “Lock the door,” he said when I came in. He swiveled on his leather chair behind his timber desk. The lights were dim, and the shutters drawn. Books filled the shelves, thick tomes on world history and forensics. 

I sat before him, hands gripping the armrest. My hands felt sweaty against the leather.

“I don’t think we’ve ever explained to you why we moved in to this… odd little town. Looking for it in a map, you’d think nothing of it. You’d gloss over it. In fact, if you went out to the streets of Manhattan or DC or Chicago, and asked people in the street about Farpoint, they’d ask, what far point?”

“I like it here better than Seattle, anyway. I always assumed it was because of your job… right?”

He nodded. “Look, I’ve been mulling this over for a while. I’m not supposed to talk, and none of you are supposed to know what happens at the lab or at the station. Marcus comes home early, and you know how he is. Barely goes out. Your mom rarely goes out after work, and if she does, she’s with company most of the time.”

I knew where he was heading with this. It was funny in a twisted way. It was a week too late for warnings.

“But I’m concerned for your safety. Coming home at ridiculous hours, three times a week, yes, I’m worried about you. It’s never been safe, but more recently, Farpoint is much more dangerous than it was six months ago.”

“Are the police not in the loop?”

“Of course they are. My colleagues are hard at work every single day.” His glasses slid down his nose and he pushed them back up. “These are… these are concerns that the FPD just cannot solve on its own.”

“What’s stopping them?”

Dad reached over the desk and flipped a framed picture around with all four of us overlooking the Grand Canyon. He stared at it for a few seconds, and swallowed, turning his attention to me. “I want you to be safe. Our family. I cannot imagine living in a world where any of you is gone.”

“Dad, you’re scaring me now.” My throat had gone dry even though I knew what he’d say.

“There are… monsters out there, stalking the streets, lurking in alleys, skulking in the shadows.” He paused and chuckled. “I sound mad, don’t I?” He cleared his throat. “I’m telling you this because… this threat is bigger than it’s ever been. You don’t know how relieved I was when I found out you were okay.”

That bit caught me off guard. “Relieved? When?”

“Your classmate, I’m sure you heard of it, right? She got attacked at your school days ago, inside one of the storage sheds, right under everyone’s nose. The deputies gave me no opportunity to do my job at the scene, and then they took her away. But whatever happened to her, no human was at fault.” 

I could feel my heart at my throat. He would’ve known it had been me. 

“You can’t trust anybody these days. Whatever you do, invite no one into our house. Not even your closest friends, you hear me? Maybe you understand what I’m rambling about, maybe not. Just don’t invite them in… because it’s possible they’ve turned.”

“Turned?” Somehow it hurt me hearing that. These bloodsucking urges didn’t change who I was, at least not completely. 

“That’s not what matters now, though. You were safe, and that’s what’s important. These attacks,” he said while reaching under his drawer, “have been getting all too common.” That’s when he showed me the Glock pistol. I caught my breath then. “We’ll be safe here. If you ever find yourself confronted with one of these… monsters, a bullet to the heart will suffice. Not the head, not the lungs, not the legs; it has to be the heart.”

He can’t ever know.

He laid the handgun back in the drawer and closed it with a click.

Before the talk with my dad that evening, Mr. Royce had paired everyone up with a random classmate during our block period for a class assignment on how ‘regional environments affect species’ development’.

“How do you think your parents would react if they found out?” Morganne Blair asked me while she rubbed the spine of her thick tome as if it were a cat. She had dark circles under her eyes, and the black highlighter trying to disguise them certainly wouldn’t fool me. The long sleeves of her thin sweater concealed her hands.

It was hard for me to stop glancing at the desk two columns beside me where Mr. Royce had Alan sit next to Anja. It felt wrong being jealous, but I couldn’t help it. “If I had to tell, meaning it was life-threateningly necessary… maybe my dad. My mom would freak out. My brother would say how cool it is and I wouldn’t hear the end. But my dad… I think dad would sit down with me and talk it through. Yes, I guess it’d be him.”

“Hm. Man, I’m just so excited for Halloween. Aren’t you?” Morganne said, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad you heard me. Why, should I be?”

“Duh. Well, you’re new, and I know until now Halloween means nothing to you but one more party where you can contract herpes and lose a couple million brain cells. But it’s much more than that! We get to celebrate our existence, when mere mortals acknowledge that we exist, even if it’s only playing pretend. We also get to be more of ourselves with little or no reproach, and some years get wild. It is a big deal.” She giggled. “I feel like hexing somebody tonight.”

“But that’s five days from today.”

“Yeah, the wait is killing meee…”

Concentrating on the assignment was difficult enough with my werecat friend interacting with the beautiful angel in ways I couldn’t. “Okay. So how does a colder climate affect a werewolf’s physiological patterns? Any clues?”

“How does it feel?” Morganne asked me, jerking me away from the sight of Anja whispering things in Alan’s ear. Her blue eyes glinted with curiosity.

“Feels what?”

“Dying. Coming back from death and beyond. Dangling above the dark abyss and waking up from it. How does it feel to have fate sew your last strand of life and weave it back with immortality?” The girl leaned closer to my face, too close for my taste. Her raven hair was matte and unkempt, and it smelled of cut grass.

“It felt… problematic.” I took that moment to sneak another look. 

I knew Alan had become pretty much Anja’s shadow for a few weeks, or even months, but I nearly bit my tongue off when she told me he went to her place for a few hours and had to walk her to school every day. I had so many questions, but it was neither the time nor the place, nor were they proper.

“How so? You are stronger, faster,” Morganne said. “Not to mention your enhanced senses. You are more powerful than most of the human population of this sad planet. You should embrace it.”

“Why should I? It’s been nothing but a boatload of trouble. And why do you care so much about my… condition?”

“Do you know what I am?” she asked, and her blue eyes lit up with amusement. “Come on, it’s EZ.”

“A bitch?”

“Close. Switch up with a W, and you got it. That’s why I care,” Morganne said. She held up her thick tome up to my face. The old brown leather looked close to crumbling. “It’s my grimoire. My one true friend.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“I always thought I was a Wicca at heart, back when I still was a naïve spawn of man and woman. I joined a Wiccan coven for fun… and to not be lonely. We used to gather at the Farpoint Public Library to pray, bake cookies, talk about spells. I enjoyed playing pretend that I was cursing people with magick. Then I accidentally hexed a librarian with face warts for telling me to shut up, got banned from the coven, and I never got my Hogwarts’ letter of acceptance.” She snorted. “Hah, posers.” She gripped the book by the spine. “This is the real deal.” She poked my arm. “Are you listening?”

“Yeah.” I was studying Anja’s close interactions with Alan. A few rows in front, Oliver pivoted on his seat to glare at the angel.

“I could make you a love potion for him.” Her lips tickled my ears. “Make the kitty back away.”

I recoiled from her. “What?” Then added softly, “Isn’t that… illegal?”

“I worship the primordial Satan during my free time.”

I shook my head. “Trouble is the last thing I want. This isn’t something I want to be. Blood is all I think about once the thirst sets in.”

At that moment Mr. Royce cleared his throat. “Excuse me, everyone. Drop what you’re doing. I have an announcement to make. A new classmate will be joining us from today on. Please, give her a warm welcome.”

When I saw Melanie come into the room, my heart nearly burst. I shrank into my seat, hoping to all that was good she wouldn’t see me, or that nobody would connect the dots.

Melanie kept her eyes glued to the floor though. She ambled down the aisles until she found a seat in the back. At one point we made eye contact, and she flinched, pretending not to see me. She looked scared and vulnerable.

Morganne tilted her head with amusement and pointed a finger. “Did you… get sucky with the new girl?”

“No…”

To my surprise, Morganne winked. “No, you definitely did not.”

If she figured it out, then more people were likely to know.

“It’s not like I wanna be like this. There should be a cure. There has to be, right?”

“I could help you with that, to some extent.” Morganne pondered. “It’s not exactly a cure, but it could give you a tiny semblance of a ‘normal’ human life. I read about it once, on Legends of the Ancient and Ethereal World. It’s more of a relic, and also… astronomically hard to find, and that is if it even exists nowadays.”

Mr. Royce’s tired eyes looked up from his laptop screen. “I believe she meant the Red Star of Dgamemnon, the Crawling Darkness. When worn, any sunlight-sensitive creature will feel no affliction when exposed.”

The cold, dark blood dribbled between my fangs. “And the Red Star is a…?” 

“A stone, or a gem. Like any other jewel, it could be carved into a ring, or a necklace.” He frowned. “Why are we discussing this? We should talk about how to better prepare yourself, ourselves, for what’s coming. The more I find out, the harder sleep comes at night.”

I dumped the empty bag of blood on the desk; Mr. Royce swatted it to the side, and it slid into the trashcan. “Step into my shoes, even if they’re too petite, and ask me again why we are discussing this. Morganne said-,”

“The girl is batsh-, I mean, she’s a bit unstable. She needs friends… and some therapy.”

“You noticed, too?”

“She’s a witch, a bright one at that, with untapped potential, and many issues.” Mr. Royce said. “She gave a freshman a black eye for calling her weirdo—don’t ask me how she did it. And had another junior girl’s hair get so unmanageably tangled up that her head had to be shaved clean. I paired you up together to see how well you two got along. Vampire, witch, it’s a natural friendship. Now I’m getting kicked for it.”

“One week and you’re already trying to get rid of me?”

He adjusted his collar and chuckled. “It sure seems like that, doesn’t it? But no, it’s the opposite. Witches and warlocks make for good companions to,” he fumbled for words, “um, people, of the dark… such as vampires, werewolves. And vice versa. Think of it as a mystical symbiotic relationship. Their cabalistic prowess grows with stronger bonds, and so do your own traits and abilities.”

“Ah, that explains it, I guess. Okay, but the cure-,”

Mr. Royce puffed up his chest. “It’s not a cure!”

“If it means no more aversion to sunlight, then I’m game. So, where do we start?”

“Are you asking me, a full-time high school employee, to help you find an ancient artifact that might as well be the Fountain of Youth? Vampires have come and gone since the dawn of humanity, and countless will continue to come and go. You wouldn’t be the first to take an interest, nor the last.”

“C’mon, I need options. Help me out here. Either I wait it out until I get staked through the heart or until the sun eats up the Earth and live forever in misery or… do the same thing but without misery. I’d rather do the latter.”

The teacher rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Here’s how.” He turned his laptop around. “What you can do is get on Wikipedia. You can find everything and anything, and yes, it’s not the best approach for veracity, but works fine for a good head-start.”

“Wikipedia? Seriously?”

“The one you know is not the one you need. Any computer or other device with their IP addresses registered with the Orpheus’ Almanac can find websites and knowledge not available to humans.” He clacked on the keyboard and brought up the Red Star of Dgamemnon wiki page. “If there’s anything you need to look up, go to the library and ask Mrs. Lindt to give you access.”

Reading through it, I found the first useful bit of information.

“After the Crawling Darkness lost its talisman, the abomination succumbed to the light and heat of the Redlands. Its discovery came millions of years after, during the construction of Luxenfort, seat of House Lucifer. Passed down generations, its last owner of name Lucifer claimed to have traded it to a dear friend of his.” I looked to the teacher. “And the rest is fluff.”

Mr. Royce spun his computer around and snapped it shut, looking me dead in the eye.

“Why is Melanie so frightened of you?” There wasn’t a trace of kindness in his eyes or voice. The change had been so sudden, I choked.

My mistake was to let the silence drag on for too long. My chest hurt from sheer stress. The vampire in me would’ve bailed me out with a silver tongue. But without the thirst of blood and the cover of night, it was at its weakest point.

“How so…?”

“Well, whenever she gets close to you, her eyes dart all over the place, she becomes a stuttering mess, and overall, seems to get paralyzed with fright.” He leaned in closer; the smell of coffee slithered in my nose. “By instinct, vampires fear their sires, though seldom they develop a strong sense of devotion and admiration. You felt that same connection with your sire.”

“Melanie has been my torment. Nothing would please her more than slander everything about me.”

“Oh, no. That poor girl hasn’t said a word about you. She’s barely coming to grasps.” The gold chain of his watch dangled over the breast pocket of his sports jacket. “She barely remembers anything, just like you. But she’s afraid of you, just like you are of your sire.”

The ensuing silence was asphyxiating.

His chair screeched on the floor as he stood behind his desk. “Come with me. There’s something you ought to see.”

My knees quivered when I stood to follow. 

We went through the hallway towards the empty commons, down the staircase, turned the corner, and entered the library. It was full of whisperings of students in their third period surfing the web. Moments like these reminded me how much my senses had been enhanced. Two boys took repeated glances at me and commented on my figure as we stalked by. No need to tell specifics. 

Mr. Royce strode towards the back of the library, whisked around a bookshelf and came to a sudden halt before the shelf with the tag Cryptobiology. His eyes darted from spine to spine, reading the book labels, until he slid one thick tome, and took the farthest seat from the students in class. 

My stomach sank as I sat before him.

Vampyr: Physiology and Evolution. He flicked through the pages until halfway through the book he found what he was looking for and showed me. 

It wasn’t a crumbling leather-bound book. It was a hardcover with vivid and pretty pictures to look at. The vampire’s evolution was nothing short of gruesome to see—good-looking boy gradually devolving into a hairless, wrinkled beast of evil.

“There are several stages of corruption all vampires face. The more you feed or kill, the more feral you’ll become,” Mr. Royce said, turning the book around for me to see. “Six of those stages stand out: Vestal, Tainted, Debased, Profaned, Fiendish and Demonic. This,” he said, pointing at the good-looking boy in his red shirt, “was you: the unfortunate victim.” His finger brushed the smooth paper. “This is you now. You are Tainted. Maybe you’ll go down this way, or maybe you’ll hold back and resist.” The boy’s glint in his eyes showed he had been scarred for life, and a tear of blood hung from his lips. “Once you become Debased, it’s an uphill battle for recovery. Few ever return from Profaned. There’s no coming back from the Fiendish stage. It’s fortunate, though, fewer still have ever become Demonic.” He looked up from the tome. “Believe me, you don’t want to go down that road.”

I swallowed. “Am I… in trouble?”

“If the Almanac finds out, then most definitely. It’s not akin to murder, some twisted person might call it a gift of ‘renewed life’, but it is a serious offense all the same. You can’t continue to go that way.”

“Then help me find a cure.”

“The Red Star of Dgamemnon is not what you’re looking for then.”

“You said something about the vaults of the Orpheus Almanac, some days ago. Where can I find that?”

Mr. Royce paused and took a deep breath. His eyes looked gentler, but his voice sounded sad. “The Almanac won’t allow it. You think they don’t profit from vampire proliferation? They keep a balance, but just so. A cure would threaten such a balance. Don’t be foolish.”

“If there’s a way, I want to try it.” His gaze hardened, so I blurted out what had been in my mind since he showed me the book. “I don’t want to become that!” I pointed. Of all the vampire stages on the page, the one that frightened me the most was the Profaned vampire: the wild-looking boy with a bloody grin on his face—a face of pure evil. The Fiendish stage sure sent chills down my spine just from thinking of the effects, and Demonic looked too fantastical, but the Profaned seemed the most likely to happen, an easy pitfall to stumble into, and extremely hard to recover from. “I’d rather die trying.”

“That will not happen to you. Fight back the urges and never let the thirst get to you. I’ll resupply every time I get a chance…”

“You don’t know what goes through my head, the thoughts that plague my mind at night.” My throat closed up. “There are times I’m on autopilot, and I don’t even notice… I cannot, I will not stay like this.”

“The Orpheus’ Almanac has headquarters here in Farpoint, in Salem, in DC, in Hollywood, etc. An embassy in London, Paris, Berlin…,” Mr. Royce said. “But that doesn’t matter because the moment you set foot in forbidden premises, they will detain you.” After a few seconds he looked up, furrowing his brow. “You could get under their noses, maybe… find a part-time job with them…”

“But then they’d find out—what I am, what I’ve done.”

“If they haven’t already,” Mr. Royce said. “In which case, it’d be pointless to keep hiding. But until that happens, stick to routine.”