The days passed slowly. Tony didn't apologise for his cruel words, but she didn't expect him to.

Soon enough, she had finished—and survived!—her first week of school. Don, Tom and James had gone from "clingy acquaintances" to inviting her out at the weekend. She, obviously, declined, but gave them her home phone number. Stuart Rookery still hadn't said hello, and he seemed to avoid her. Whenever she passed him in the hallway, he flinched away like she was a virus. She wasn't sure if she should feel hurt by that, or relieved.

"It's because you're cold," Tom had told her with glee visible in his expression. "James says you're freezing cold to him. Literally make his fingers numb!"

Donald had scoffed and thrown his arms around her as a point. "She's not. James just needs to wear more clothing." Tom embraced her too, and she absently remarked,

"You're both incredibly hot."

James had burst into giggles. "You cradle snatchers! She's only thirteen!"

"Fourteen, actually." She had scowled, feeling her face heat up. "Could you get off me? You're making me warm."

"Fourteen?" Tom had grinned at that. "When's your birthday? Two years until you're legal, honey."

"You lecher!" She had exclaimed, wiggling out of their joint grip.

"Lecher though one is, or aspires to be—" Don and Tom began, but she interrupted with a gleeful grin.

"Alan Bennett!" she had shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You can't tell me that's not Alan Bennett!"

The three boys had clapped and cheered at her accusation. "She's getting there!" James exclaimed. "Alright, alright... Next one. Uncoffined, just as found—his landmark is a kopje crest,"

"Drummer Hodge! Thomas Hardy!" she cried victoriously.

"Hon?" Dottie knocked on her door, breaking her out of her musings. She wiped away the smile on her lips and waved at her mother. "We've got a party tonight, so we're getting a babysitter. Look out for Tony, will you? He's getting a little smarmy with me. I don't think he's happy but doesn't want to say."

"On it, mom." She frowned down at her homework and pushed it away. "Mom... He said something awful to me the other day."

Her door closed with a click, and she swallowed tightly. Her mom didn't care? She clenched her fists and wiped her right eye, curious by the sudden cold that enveloped the lid. A frozen droplet came away with her hand. She frowned again. "How odd..." she muttered but shrugged, standing up and changing into her pyjamas.

An hour later, she heard her parents welcoming the babysitter and fifteen minutes after that, the loud click of the front door as they left. Tony hadn't left his bedroom, so in her quest for food she checked on him. He was sat at his desk and turned to smile as she walked in. "Hey, Cassie. Could you get me some ketchup?"

She smiled and nodded, continuing on down the stairs.

"Hello!" the babysitter beamed, wringing a cloth between her hands. "Now, don't yu' worry abou' a thing, y'hear?"

"I wasn't, but thanks." she said drily, taking a piece of bread and a bag of crisps from a cupboard. She had to hunt for the ketchup, but found it in the cupboard adjacent to the alcoholic beverages.

"How're yu' finding Scotland, then, luv'?" the babysitter asked, desperate for conversation.

"Fine. A little daunting at times, but I've made three friends already." She smiled politely, taking a large, pointed bite of the bread.

"Oh? What's their names?" The babysitter leaned forward. Cassie's nose curled in disgust at the blatant beg for gossip.

"Donald Cooper, James Parker and Thomas Barnett."

"Oh!" The woman frowned. "Oh. I can't say av' 'eard good things about them lads, dear. Only one is good - that Thomas."

oOo

Cassie heard a loud yell from her brother's room and shot out, baseball bat in hand. Her dad called her "Slugger" for a reason. "You alright, Tony?"

"No!" he shrieked, and she heard something slam against his door - was it a murderer, stopping her from coming in? Or was it his way of saying that there was someone in the room with him? Was he being kidnapped?

She tried the doorknob and the door swung open, a body hitting the floor on the other side. She held the bat over her head and prepared herself to fight, storming in.

The sight made her pause.

There was a boy—or a man?—on the floor, swathed in dark clothing, with sickly grey skin and dark tousled hair. His lips were moving, but there was no sound escaping his lips. Tony was huddled behind his race car bed, his terrified blue eyes peaking over the duvet.

"Who are you?" she demanded, kicking him gently with her foot.

"I'm too weak..." he groaned, rolling on to his back.

"He's a vampire!" Tony declared, standing up and wobbling towards them. Cassie's hands faltered on the bat as she began to smile, but the Stranger's cough made her tighten her grip again. "I know him. I've seen him in my dreams. Are you called Gregory?"

The Stranger stiffened and snarled, leaping up. Cassie swung the bat round and hit him in the stomach, but the bat shattered from the hit. She blinked and stared down at the shattered pieces: what the Hell? "How do you know that name?" he roared, grabbing Cassie by the hair and yanking her up; one grip was tight against her scalp, the other wrapped around her arm. "I will kill her, boy!"

She wondered how the babysitter couldn't hear, but that didn't matter when Tony let out a small whimper. "My - my dreams," he begged, "Only my dreams. Don't hurt my sister, please, please..."

The Stranger slowly relaxed his grip, dropping her so that her feet were on the floor again. "I need a cow. Take me to a cow. I won't let her go until you do."

Tony nodded frantically.

oOo

The Stranger's name was Rudolph Sackville-Bagg, and he was a real life, three-hundred and something vampire. He had the physical appearance of a sixteen year old boy, simply because he was sixteen when he was turned. "I'm dreadfully sorry for the bruising," he said softly. Tony was hobbling in front, turning around every minute to make sure his sister was still alive. "Gregory is my brother. Little brother, but you don't need to know that." He winked like he'd made a joke and she smiled appeasingly.

"It's okay. Your hands are lovely and cold, so please could you rub the bruises for me?" she asked nicely, desperate to escape his grip. It was nothing like Donald's warm arm on her shoulder, or Tom's burning hand on her forearm. Heck, even James' cold hands on her didn't make her as uncomfortable as this.

It wasn't like she hated being touched - she loved it. She loved cuddling her mother and receiving kisses from her dad. But physical affection that she hadn't initiated made her feel queasy. It was wrong.

The vampire—was he really a vampire? How peculiar!—rubbed her arms softly, before focussing on one arm and one hand moved to rub her scalp. "I really am sorry, you know."

"Don't worry about it." She sighed, relaxing under his careful rubbing. His hands were rock hard and ice cold. "Do you have more family?"

"I'm afraid I won't tell you just yet," His voice was lilting and soft, like a proper English gentleman. She realised that her new friends' accents, not Scottish but English, were harsh and drawled: she guessed they were from more up North than Rudolph Sackville-Bagg. Maybe Lancashire? "How old are you and your brother?"

She nodded and sighed again, her eyes sliding shut as he led her along. "I'm fourteen and Tony is eight. My mom is called Dottie and my dad's called Robert, but only his boss is allowed to call him that. Mom calls him Bob."

There was a smile in his voice when he replied, "You're very young. Very innocent, in fact."

She twitched, opening her eyes and scowling up at him. He laughed, his lips forming a lobsided smile and those crimson eyes curving. "Never such innocence again," she quoted, testing him. From his sudden stiffening, she'd done something right.

His eyes lit up, and he managed to breathe out "Larkin," before Tony interrupted them.

"We're here!" Tony cried, his cape fluttering in the wind. She knew the weather was cold, biting even, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't explain why, but her friends certainly picked up on it.

Rudolph sighed like a stroppy teenager and released his grip on her, leaping ahead and entering the barn. "Are you okay, Cassie?" Tony hissed when the dark haired boy was no longer in sight. "You're all bruised..."

She held up her arm and investigated the bruising. It was very, very bad; they were clear finger marks, a mottled black and purple on the pale skin of her arm. Her scalp twinged in agony and she grimaced. "I'll be fine, Tony. I'll keep my eye on Rudolph, okay? You stay out here and sit in the hay. It should keep you warm."

She helped him on a bale and entered the barn, the smell of cow and faeces making her face curl in disgust. "Rudolph?" she asked, peering around. She couldn't see very well in the dark. There was a loud squelching sound and one of the cows mooed in pain. "Right, vampire, sorry."

There was a muffled laugh before a dark head poked up from a cow. "Just give me a minute."

She waited a full minute, rocking on the balls of her feet, when she heard it.

Tony's cry.

"Rudolph!" Her head shot to towards him. "Tony's in trouble!"

There was an icy clamp around her wrist and suddenly she was no longer affected by gravity, gliding through the air at neck-breaking speeds. "I'll get you!" she heard someone cry.

"Tony?" she shouted over the roar of the wind. "Rudolph, did you get Tony?!"

"Don't worry," She shivered at the dark tone. "I got him."

"Thank you so much," she whispered, her body feeling like lead.

When they settled, they were on a blimp. Not just any blimp - her dad's blimp. The party was in full swing, the mansion shining like a beacon in the night.

oOo

When Cassie woke up in the morning, it was to the scent of flowers. She opened her eyes and shot out of bed, displacing flowers that had been piled on her bed. She blinked.

There were hundreds of flowers on her bed. There was only one she recognised: lilies. White lilies. They either meant innocence or bereavement. Neither of which she cared much for.

She slid carefully out, flicking her duvet away and standing on a small empty spot on the floor. She pulled back her duvet and spread out the flowers again. "What do I do?" she muttered.

"I'd recommend a vase." Rudolph piped up; she jumped. "Terribly sorry. I'm underneath your bed. Tony's box got incredibly uncomfortable. Do you like the flowers? I spent all night trying to find them. Not many florists open at night..." She took that to mean he'd robbed someone's greenhouse or spent the rest of the night flying all over the world: the plausible one was robbing someone's greenhouse, because surely even vampires had limits?

"They're lovely," She smiled shyly, feeling her face heat up. "But why have the buried me in flowers?"

"To apologise, of course!" She knelt down and lifted a drape, revealing the underneath of her bed. Rudolph was pressed against the underneath of it, his body weight being held by one lazy hand and what she assumed to be his flying ability. His head turned and she smiled again, wider. "Oh. Good morning!"

"What flowers have you give me, Rudolph?" Cassie asked.

"Well, there's lilies, chrysanthemums, orchids—they were incredibly hard to find!—peonies... They're very pretty flowers, don't you think?" His eyes were bright as he awaited her answer.

"Very beautiful, thank you. I'll go see how many vases we have..." Her voice trailed off in thought. "Enjoy your day's sleep." She stood and cracked her back, before bolting down the stairs. "Mom! Do you have any vases?"

"Why?" Dottie asked suspiciously. "Does this have anything to do with the hundreds of flowers on your bed?!"

Cassie laughed and tried to think of a lie. "Yeah. The guys came over last night with them, said they wanted to meet the lady of the house. Unfortunately they just met the frantic babysitter and me."

"Oh, yeah... Where were you? And don't lie. They were muddy footprints in your room."

Sat on a blimp with a vampire after nearly being ran over by a psychopath in a truck. Average weekend, really. "Tom took me and Tony to a cafe. I figured that, because it was a Saturday evening, we'd be fine to skip out on the bed time! And I swear, I told the babysitter. She just didn't listen - she sat there eating chips and watching the TV!"

She still looked doubtful. "Cassie... Teenage boys like that... You know they're going to be hormone driven, right? Don't give them any ideas. I don't want you on your own with them, especially with Tony."

Cassie feigned a hurt expression. "Mom! They're not like that at all! They've been gentlemen to me! Besides, I'm pretty sure Tom and James are... you know," She wiggled her pinky finger. "Gay. Together. Or James wants them to be..."

This didn't seem to deter Dottie; in fact, Cassie mused, it seemed to make her more irate. "I don't trust it, Cass. They're a lot older than you, hun."

Privately, Cassie agreed – it was peculiar that they'd taken her under their wing, but she wasn't going to knock it. They'd only been welcoming: however, if they got too touchy or mean, she'd clear her hands of them. "Whatever, mom. What are you doing today?"

"I was going to make you a dress." Cassie blinked owlishly. A dress? "Well, you need a dress!" Dottie flushed at Cassie's perturbed expression. "And I thought… Maybe we could make it together…"

Cassie beamed. "I'd love to! Is that what you bought yesterday?"

Dottie nodded. "It's all blue fabric. There's also a white, shimmery mesh, but I'm not sure if that's going to work with the rest of the material."

oOo

With her dress designs in arm, Cassie bounded up the stairs and into her new bedroom. She threw the folder to the floor and dropped down to her knees, a smile beginning to grow on her mouth. She frowned when Rudolph was nowhere to be seen.

"Rudolph?" she whispered, looking around. There was no reply. There was another flower placed by her window: a white rose. She swallowed tightly and nodded her head, acknowledging the flower for what it meant. She had to maintain her silence of Rudolph's existence – and possibly lie to Tony about the flowers. That wouldn't be too hard to do.

Days passed without Rudolph, and she almost managed to convince herself that he was a dream. A strange, slightly confusing dream, but a dream nonetheless. The flowers and bruises took some explaining away – "I nearly fell off a cliff and Donald saved me!" but the bruises faded and the flowers died. Slowly, she tried to forget.

What else could she do? He was… lovely. He held her hand when she panicked on the blimp, saved Tony's life (although the feeling of his cold hand in hers blew the whole "Tony nearly died" thing out of the water) and covered her bed in flowers. He was lovely!

"Cassie?" Donald waved a hand in front of her face. Tom and James watched them with amused, fond looks. "Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Cassie recoiled and ducked her head with a blush, surreptitiously checking to see if she had been drooling. "What's up?"

Donald smiled shyly. "I was wondering if you'd accompany me to the Upper Sixth Yuletide ball."

Cassie blinked. Oh. "But I'm fourteen," she blurted out. "And you've known me for, like, two weeks. I'm underdeveloped and shorter than you."

Donald's smile became wider. "That's okay. I'm seventeen and you've only known me for two weeks. You're not that underdeveloped and that's nothing a set of sensible heels won't fix. It's either that or I go with Tom and James, and James will be boring while Tom finds an Upper Sixth girl to fuck. Or our English teacher. He's got her eating out of the palm of his hand." Donald hastened to add, "Not that you're a second choice or anything – you're a cool girl. I'd love to show up with you on my arm."

"Um…" She weighed up the pros and the cons. By the time the 'Yuletide' ball came along, she would be fifteen; plus, she would know the trio better then, too. "Okay. When is it?"

"The fourteenth of December. If you go, you don't have to go to school the day after." Donald threw a heavy arm over her shoulder, pulsating with warmth. It was unusual how warm Don was, especially as she was always so freezing (so James told her). Tom sniggered into his palm at her disgruntled expression: James eyes narrowed in thought and he began to tap a finger against the table.

"I'm definitely in, then. What's the theme?" Very unusual. She eyed her mug of tea. It had gone from being lukewarm, undrinkable, to steaming hot. Don coughed pointedly.

"Yule, obviously. What would you be wearing?"

She twitched her fingers and, much to her surprise, the steam stopped rising from her mug. She moved her hands towards it and felt it radiating cold – much like ice. "Blue. Light blue. Should I go for a winter theme? Where's it being held, anyway?"

The cup heated up again as Don shifted. Her eyes narrowed and she twitched her fingers again, feeling a tingle.

The cup froze. Literally froze. Her eyes widened in shock. The liquid let out a loud cracking sound as the mug shattered around the frozen liquid. "Fucking hell!" Donald swore, pulling her back by the shoulder.

James smiled wickedly. "Blue would be lovely on you, little miss. It's being held at McAshton mansion – make sure you dress up warmly."

Cassie stared at her broken mug in shock.

Had she done that? Had she managed to freeze and break her own mug? She swallowed—well, a vampire had flown in through her little brother's bedroom window and she'd spent the night with him on a blimp. Stranger things had happened. "Excuse me," she blurted out, grabbing her bag and unwinding herself from Donald's grip. She sprinted out of the Upper Sixth common room and all but flew to the reception, her heart pounding in her chest. "What the hell was that?" she whispered out loud, looking around in terror.

"What's up, lass?" It was Stuart Rookery. He gave her a malicious grin and pushed himself off the wall, invading her personal space. "Those little witches messing with ya'? Tell ya' what, I'll sort out ya' witchy problem if you sort out my Pa's vamp problem, yeah?"

"Excuse me?" she hissed, drawing herself up to her formidable 5'8 height. "Who are you calling witches?" Her heart was in her throat. Vampires? Witches?

"Well, I thought ya' knew!" Stuart gave her another dirty grin. "Your little friends? Witches. All three of 'em. We got Parker," he spat the name like a curse. "The Windy one! Cooper, the Hot one and Barnett, the leader of 'em all. Good with the Earth, him. And now… Now they got you." He looked her up and down. "The Ice bitch."

Ice? Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him a smirk. I have to keep him talking. "Ice bitch, aye? I thought it was water, funnily enough…"

"Nah," Rookery shook his head. "You ain't too good with the water, yet. Seen it in your eyes: you're too cold."

Interesting. "Your Pa?" she probed, stepping closer to him. She could feel his wretched breath on her face, see the flecks of gold in his muddy brown eyes.

"Aye, my Pa. You've already met one of the filthy bloodsuckers though, ain't ya? Spent the night with him. Holdin' hands, weren't ya'?"

She smirked again. "Thanks, Rookery. Now get the fuck out of my way, you filthy bastard." She pushed his shoulder with all of her might and began to run again, hearing the receptionist shout after her.

Witches! She thought, wondering if it was a dream. How strange! Witchcraft. Everyone at Scotland was crazy! Vampires were one thing, yes, but witchcraft? And she was a witch? But Rudolph could fly, she argued, and that cow hasn't been the same since.

She continued to run, catching her breath wherever possible. Unfortunately, she was very lost, and in the end she stumbled upon a cemetery. There was a bright red truck sat outside the gates, seemingly empty. She peered at it, recognising it but at the same time not, and carried on.

The cemetery was scary. Dusk was beginning to set, making her begrudge the longer hours of her high school, and the shadows of the gravestones were cast eerily. It didn't seem new, and she wondered for a moment if anyone was recently buried there. "I hope not," she muttered, kneeling down at one headstone and wiping away the grime that had accumulated there. Rosemary McAshton, it read. 1239-1248. "Nine years old…"

She carried on reading the gravestones when the night finally fell, leaving her in the dark. "Well, it's perfectly normal for a teenage girl to be at a cemetery in the dark, right?" She rolled her eyes. She opened her school bag and removed a juice box, settling between a moss-covered stone and a headstone. It protected her from the cold.

Only she couldn't feel the cold. "Witchcraft…" She investigated her hands: thin, pale and long. There were no symbols that screamed 'witch' or even an 'ice witch' – there was only her cold, pale skin. Sure, her fingers were incredibly long, but that was only because she had pianist's hands. She bit her thumb nail.

Nobody knows I'm here.

"I wonder how far my home is from here?" she wondered out loud, peering out. There was only silence. "I mean, it shan't be too far, surely?"

But, she thought, who's to say there won't be lurkers at night?

An hour passed and she was contemplating just running again. If she found her way to the cemetery from school, maybe she could do it in reverse? It wouldn't be that hard, right?

"Cassie?"

Cassie jumped, looking up in terror. Rudolph waved back at her. He was sitting in the bushes – or was he hovering? – He smiled cheekily when she tentatively waved at him. "How long have you been sat here for?" His voice oozed concern.

"Erm… I'm not really… Sure." She hesitated. "Rudolph?" He stood and floated down until he was resting on the moss covered rock. "Do witches exist?"

His eyes darkened. "Why, Cassie?" Something in his tone terrified her. His previously kind eyes were shadowed, the crimson gleaming in the moonlight.

She told him everything. Her mug freezing, Don's unusually hot body, Tom's boiling temperature, James' frightfully cold one – "Does it mean anything? I mean, Stuart Rookery thought so – he called me an ice witch! I asked if he meant water, and he said no because I'm too cold, and then he mentioned that his father was a vampire hunter and he said that we held hands, which we did, but it's super creepy that he knows that and I'm just so confused! I mean, it just doesn't make sense! I've been here for two weeks or whatever and already there's a vampire boy and I'm being accused of witchcraft!" Her chest heaved as her voice escalated into shouts.

He leant down and pressed a finger to her mouth. "Sh, Cassie. Calm down. Show me what you did with the mug."

She nodded and breathed as he moved his hand away. Rudolph smiled encouragingly and she focussed on her juice box, twitching her fingers. There was an audible crack as the fluid froze inside of the box.

Rudolph began to laugh, a sharp, harsh sound, "Brilliant! Oh, brilliant. A little witch in McAshton land!" He laughed for a minute and slowed into chuckles, before stopping entirely. "Has the cold ever bothered you, Cassie?" She began to nod – she certainly felt the cold when they arrived in Scotland! "Ever? Properly? You began to shiver, or your nose ran, or your eyes streamed?"

Well, no, she admitted to herself. Never.

Rudolph took her silence as a disagreement. His tone became softer, as if he were addressing a wild animal trapped in a cage. "You're different, Cassie. And that's okay. It's better than okay," His frown turned into a smirk. "Have you missed me? Tony said you'd been moping."

She scowled. "Excuse me?"

Rudolph blinked. "Tony said you'd missed me… Is that not the case?"

"You were visiting Tony?!" Her voice became a shriek. She leapt onto her feet and slammed her hands on his thighs so that he couldn't move. "I thought you were a god-damned dream! You gave me bruises!"

A complacent smirk came onto his face. "You definitely missed me, didn't you?" Her eyes flashed. He shivered as the water in the air cooled and became dense, engulfing his body. One moment he was normal and the next he was frozen solid, littered with glinting glitter. A muffled snort escaped his lips.

"I don't find this funny, Rudolph. You bruised me, threatened my life, broke my good bat and spent your time hanging out with an eight year old!" She trailed a finger over his mouth, eyes softening. His lips unfrosted. "To apologise to me you're taking me home."

"Your wish is my command, little witch. You're going to have to unfreeze me first. Also, does it bother you that he's met my family already? Would you like to meet them too?" Rudolph smiled charmingly.

Rudolph scowled. "What? You're telling me that Tony's sister has been up there for hours and you're telling me now?" He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the crypt.

Gregory sneered in reply, "Go get your fucking pet, Rudolph. I don't know what you see in her anyway!"

Anna looked between the two boys, trying to placate them both. "Well, we didn't really know that she was Tony's sister, they don't really look similar. Tony's very cute and she's… Well, they don't look that similar! She's very... sharp-looking."

"She's pretty!" Rudolph hissed. "Mother, tell them she's pretty!"

Freda Sackville-Bagg smiled and waved her hand. "She's very pretty, children. But it must be freezing outside and you're in here squabbling."

Rudolph took the hint and shot out of the crypt, hovering above the cemetery to find her platinum hair. She was nestled neatly in the plot reserved for McAshton's, sipping from a brightly coloured juice box. He, as silently as possible, crept behind her.

"Cassie?" He put on his best nonchalant smile and took pride in her frightful jump. He still had it!

oOo

Witchcraft. Cassie was a witch. He smirked in amusement; Rookery wouldn't know what hit him! He had found the Water Witch. And she'd already found the other three! Fantastic.

He could practically taste their mortality.

"No thank you," Cassie cringed. "I just want to sleep. And cry. You're a douchebag."

"Cry?" He looked alarmed suddenly, the expression so out of place on his face that she couldn't help but smirk.

"Take me home."