Chapter 22: What A Nasty Surprise

AN: Hello my lovelies! I'm back, and I'm not dead! It's a miracle! (haha, no seriously though, I'm fine). Remember a couple chapters back when I was having computer trouble and it crashed? Well, turns out it wasn't the computer after all, it was the freaking monitor! Something about the transponder, I don't really understand exactly what was wrong, but basically it broke and we needed a new one.

So we went to get our old one back from our neighbors (we'd loaned it to them). The problem: they were on a cruise (I swear, these people must have gone on every cruise line there is!) But they came back, my muse came back with them (traitorous vacation-taker), we got a new monitor, and you guys get a new chappie!

Even better, I've actually planned out the rest of the story (this is the part where you gasp in shock)! All I knew was that Destiny left with the Valeriouses and ended up in Rome…somehow. Well, I now know the 'somehow'! Yippee! So, I'll try to be better about updating, I promise.

But, I'm going to be at camp for the next three days, so if I come back and find my mailbox full of reviews, who knows how fast I'll be able to churn out the next chappie? (hint hint: review please!) Enjoy this one. And the title is a bit of an understatement. You'll see what I mean. (sorry 'bout the long AN)

All villages near Transylvania have several things in common. A church, at least one tavern, a large graveyard for your basic necromancy material, a well, and a town square that isn't even square. Plus, they are all gray and somber, full of gray somber people in gray somber houses, living gray somber lives until they die, some sooner rather that later. Because, of course, every village comes complete with at least one monster, no assembly required. In fact, it's near impossible to tell one village from another.

Such was the case with the village where we spent our next might on the road. According to Nonia, there was no safe place to stay in the open between Black Dale and Kiev and it was too dangerous to travel at night. Boris was unhitching the horses and arranging for the spare team to be stabled here until they came to pick it up on the return journey when Nonia returned with our lodging assignments. Rather than stay at an inn, she'd persuaded a young couple to rent out two rooms for the night.

"As long as it's a place to sleep," said Boris, not even turning to look at her. I knew he was grumpy from an early start and he had been the driver for most of the day, so I knew he was tired. For the lack of sleep, he held his temper in check very well, for a guy. I didn't tell him that, of course.

Our hostess was not much older than I; perhaps only by three or four years. She had a round homely face and kind brown eyes. I could tell that one day she would make a great mother.

"Destiny, this is Gydaine Saefas," said Nonia, once we were inside the house. She offered her hand and I took it politely.

"Nice to meet you." Remembering my manners, I added, "Thank you for letting us stay here."

Gydaine smiled and waved the comment away. "It's nothing. It's a way to make a little extra money. Besides, we don't have any use for those rooms…yet." She and I shared a knowing look. "Your rooms are upstairs, at the back."

Nonia showed me ours. It was small, but cozy, and a tiny window facing north let in constant light. I peered out it for a minute.

"We're going to have to do something about your hair," remarked Nonia from behind me. I turned around.

"Huh?"

"It stands out and we need to blend in. You can't go around cloaked the whole time; that looks just as odd." She studied me. "I'm going to see what Gydaine has by way of temporary hair dyes. Stay here." She shut the door behind her.

A few minutes later she was back with a small packet, which she tossed to me. "Hold this while I get some water."

ten minutes later

I stared at myself in the dusty glass that passed for a mirror. "I look weird," I stated, fingering a strand of my wet, now brunette hair.

"Hush," said Nonia, slightly exasperated. "It'll be a lot lighter when it dries. Come on, it's time for dinner."

I'd been expecting some smart remark from Boris, but he merely lifted an eyebrow before applying himself to his food. With good reason. Gydaine was a better cook than I ever was, which, though it's a complement to her, isn't saying that much.

However, it was as we were ascending the stairs to go to bed that Boris innocently remarked, "Well, at least you look normal now."

"Want to explain what exactly that means?"

"Subject to your own interpretation."

"I thought you both agreed not to fight!" Nonia's voiced called from her room.

"Friendly banter," Boris and I said in unison, then looked at each other, horrified that we'd shared the same thought.

Up until this point, I had not really paid much attention to the direction we were taking. I only knew that we were going under a general northwest heading. But as I sat alone in the carriage, munching on a pastry, courtesy of Gydaine, I couldn't but help feel that something was different outside.

Unable to ignore the niggling anymore, I brushed aside the curtain and looked out the window.

Trees, as far as I could see, with mountains rearing their frigid heads above the green foliage. Surely there was nothing odd about trees. I frowned, and looked closer. We passed a rocky stream and I jumped.

"I know this place," I whispered. "I know this." Soon, other landmarks began to appear: Grandfather's Knee, a rock I had often visited as a child, the old hollow twisted oak that I had thought was haunted. I didn't even realize that I was crying until I brought my pastry up for another bits and found soggy patches on it.

I popped my head up top. "Nonia, can we please stop at the village up here?"

Nonia turned with a questioning look in her eyes. "How do you know there's a village here?"

"Because it's my village. Please, let me out for a little bit. All I ask is one hour," I begged. She smiled slightly.

"For an hour. We can't waste what daylight we have."

After ten minutes, the carriage stopped. As excited as any child at holiday time, I threw open the door and leapt out.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that met my eyes. The dead, people and animals, littered the streets, their bodies positioned haphazardly, as if they had fallen. There was no house that I could see which did now show some sign of damage. Glass shards glittered on the ground, some doors had been pulled clean off their hinges, and holes in people's roofs were all too common. Just to be sure I knew who had done this, the church had been given special attention.

It had been burned to the ground.

Nonia and Boris were silent, not quite knowing what to say. I hurried through the streets, looking for familiar faces among the dead. Some had already been buried, but not many; this attack had been recent. At the end of the street, I found what I had hoped not to.

Three people lay on the ground, like pale ragdolls. Mikal must have died trying to save Cari, but that hadn't worked, because she was here too. And Eileen, my best friend since infancy. I knelt in the bloodstained dirt and ran my fingers gently, lovingly, over her white, cold face. Reaching forward to close her eyes, I spotted the cause of death, by means of two small puncture holes on the side of her neck. Judging by the angle and size, it must have been Aleera who killed her. The irony of that hit me, because Aleera, who was always looking to do me harm, had killed my best friend without even knowing it was her.

It was then that I noticed a fourth person lying facedown twenty feet away.

"No," I prayed. "Please no." Rushing over, I turned over the body of my mother. Without even looking I knew Dracula had been the one to kill her. He was the only one who had ever known the identity of my mother.

Grabbing her icy hand, I pressed it against my cheek in a futile attempt to warm it. There are no words to describe the grief I felt at that moment. My mother was dead, because of me. If I hadn't run away, this never would have happened. I killed my own mother.

An inhumanly high-pitched shriek pierced the air, one filled with the pain of loss. It took me a few moments to realize that it had come from my throat. For that moment, all my mental shields were down. And I didn't care in the slightest. In my mind, I could feel the distant touch of Dracula. Obviously he was asleep for the day, or else he would be bellowing his dead lungs out at me. Well, he was in for a rude awakening.

He wanted to feel sorrow? Happy to oblige. Mustering what strength I had left, I threw my feelings at him, pounding his mind with a barrage of rage, hatred, sorrow, loathing, pain, grief, and a number of feelings too intense to have any name.

'I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY, YOU BASTARD!' I screamed at him. 'HOW DARE YOU KILL MY MOTHER AND ALL OF THOSE DEAR TO ME!? AND DON'T GIVE ME ANY BULLSHIT ABOUT NEEDING TO FEED! YOU ONLY NEED TO ONCE OR TWICE A MONTH DAMN IT! I HATE YOU!'

Before the intensely surprised vampire could respond, I had fled from his mind and slammed up my own shields. My rage gave way to sobs as I held my mother's body close and rocked her, as she had so often done to me, tears streaming down my face. Realizing what day it was only made me cry harder.

For my nineteenth birthday, my mother died.

.....

Hello. This is Creative-Insanity's muse. Yes, I am speaking to you. And yes, I can hear your thoughts. I command you to review, to that my friend (coughslave!cough) has lots of nice things to read when she gets back from camp. You review, and I'll get her lazy ass over to her notebook so she can write longhand while she's away. How's that for an under-the-table deal? Oh, and cookies are greatly appreciated.