Downworlder Rising

Chapter One: In Which We Are Introduced To A Fledgling And A Leader

She awoke to the sound of voices and the smell of food.

"...Wake up?" a male voice was murmuring. "I mean, is there a chance she won't? Like a statistic or something?"

"No," another male answered. His voice was accented and smooth. "If they climb out, they climb out. Simple as that."

Her stomach rumbled, and she groaned. Something was pressing down on her, hard. Earth. It was freezing and hard. But she had to get out. It was the only way to the meal that beckoned to her from above.

With a savage cry, she ripped at the dirt above her, clawing and beating. Her nails broke, but she didn't care. Food was her only motivation.

And suddenly she burst out of the ground.

Two men and a woman were conversing quietly. They turned to her.

The taller boy- my brother, she realised- choked back a sob. He reached out to her. "Catharine," he said painfully.

But Catharine didn't care.

The smell of his blood and his mortality overwhelmed her as she sprang at him. The woman screamed, and Catharine would have grabbed her too if not for the last boy who threw her back.

"No, little fledgling," he scolded. "You must not gobble your brother up. It is not polite. Here..." And he withdrew a bottle of the blood she starved for from the pocket of his white jacket.

Food.

And it was in her hands, hers. She ripped off the top and emptied it into her waiting mouth. More.

And so she stayed, consuming bottle after bottle, while her brother and his fiancée looked on in horror. But the other boy looked merely amused.

"She is Turned," he announced. "Little girl, what is your name?"

Catharine blinked, the moon shining down with loving beams on her cold face. But- she wasn't Catharine, not anymore. That name did not fit her. Catharine was pure in blood and spirit, and she was not.

She faced the boy, who was waiting with his arms crossed over his slim chest. She touched her wet mouth, and her fingers came away red.

And suddenly she was on the ground, sobbing, because she knew.

She knew she was dead.

She knew she was a monster.

But she had to be brave.

Just like the meaning of the name she had always wanted.

"Valentina," she said.

Ω Ω Ω

"Catharine, my Catharine," wept Harry as he hugged her to his chest.

"Shhh, Harry." Never in her life had Valentina imagined herself comforting her older brother. When they were younger, it was always him helping her, whether it was a scraped knee or a boyfriend problem. But now there he was, bawling in her arms.

"It's going to be all right," Valentina whispered as his tears bled through her green tank top. "I promise."

"And Marigold- what will Marigold think?" he gasped, squeezing her tight.

"It will be fine," the smaller girl told him as soothingly as she could.

"You're my sister."

"I know."

"You know," Harry said as he pulled away, wiping his tears. "When you were younger you always wanted to be magic. Now you are." He sniffed, lowering himself onto a beanbag chair.

"I'm not," Valentina said lamely.

"But you are. Super speed, super strength, shapeshifting." Harry blew his nose on a Kleenex. "But it comes with... with such a cost."

"Not much of a cost," lied Valentina.

Suddenly, with surprising agility, Harry seized her shoulders. "If you walk outside in the daytime, you'll die," he shouted. "You'll burn up, like a piece of paper put next to a match. I don't want that to happen to you."

"It won't, Harry, it won't, I swear!" gasped the vampire, caught off guard. "I'll be careful... I'll live in the Dumort... It will be okay..."

"You'll come visit me though, right?"

Valentina stared into her older brother's deep green eyes. Right?

"I guess."

Harry nodded, pulling her close to him and stroking her hair. "Okay," he said as the tears fell onto her light blond ponytail. "Okay."

Valentina would have cried as well. She wanted to cry. But crying meant a loss of blood, and she didn't know how many bottles Raphael (the vampire that had helped her) had left. So instead she hugged her brother fiercely, trying to memorise every detail of him, every nook, every fold. "I love you, Harry. You're my brother," she whispered, rocking him from side to side. "You're my brother."

He nodded.

"I hate to cut this short, mi reina," cut in a sarcastic voice. "But it is almost daytime. We would hate for you to burn up, as your brother said. Also, I do not wish to remain in the company of Nephilim for too long."

Harry drew in his breath sharply, and Valentina spun to see Raphael, leaning against the doorframe and looking bored.

"Don't call me that," said the girl.

"Call you what?"

"Mi reina. My queen."

"I was merely demonstrating proper manners."

"No, you weren't."

Raphael narrowed his eyes. "I have no time to argue. Shall we leave for the Dumort?" He extended his arm, covered with an expensive-looking black jacket.

Valentina's breath caught in her throat. She squeezed her brother's hand, one last time...

And kissed her brother's cheek, one last time...

And hugged her brother tightly, one last time...

And then she followed Raphael Santiago out of the house.

I'm so sorry I haven't been on lately. So much stuff is happening and I haven't been feeling it. I swear I'm still doing my Sweeney Todd fic. But don't expect regular updates. Peace!