Vale… Is Not a Vampire?

Having observed the damage to the table, the bundle of mischief named Shae returned her attention to me, and bounced in excitement. “Eeeeeh! I knew you’d pull through. I knew you’d do it, even after you ran away.” The source of my worries vibrated in front of me some more, before throwing herself around my neck once again. “You’re the best Vale!”

I pried her off me, this time leaving both of my hands on her shoulders to keep her from more youthful rashness. This once more brought the focus of five pairs of eyes to my claws. I didn’t care though. Her bubbliness was infectious enough for me to give her a bright smile, fangs and all.

Hold on. Five?

I evaluated the new and very agitated scent that had appeared behind me. The fifth person was the Chicken-broth woman, the bunkhouse owner’s wife.

Eryn walked up to us and addressed Shae while clutching at her apron. “Does your dad know you’re here, Shae?”

It was a valid question. A very valid question. Onar did not like me, and Shae liked to get in trouble by associating with me. It should not have taken a genius to figure out where this was going. Glancing around the room I reevaluated everyone’s reactions. Their fear hadn’t flared at the reveal of my claws, but at the appearance of Shae.

What if it’s not my claws they’re scared of but Onar’s reaction?

“I’m checking up on the pig,” Shae noted with a twist of her hips and a mischievous smile, completely oblivious to the atmosphere.

That’s a no. Onar does not know she came to see me.

The tension rose as several pairs of eyes glanced at the still-open door. I let go of Shae's shoulders and took a step back, glaring at the girl. She was going to get me in trouble. A lot of trouble. “Shae…” I reproached her.

“I think it’s time for you to head back home young woman,” Eryn cautioned Shae with a frail edge of anger in her voice.

“Don’t wanna,” the young girl pouted, ducked under Eryn’s arms, and despite my backpedaling clung to my waist once more. “Vale’s going to teach me magic.”

Wait! What?

Where did this come from? I never promised anything like that.

“Shae, please…” I tried to pry her off again, but I had to be careful not to nick her with my exposed claws, and keep an eye on the door at the same time. I needed new gloves. I really needed new gloves. But these were already my spare set. I had no more replacements.

If Onar comes in now while I have my claws on his­–

“Shae!” the man stormed inside, as if summoned by my thoughts. Brandishing a pitchfork he glanced from Shae, to me, to Shae, to my claws on her arm. His face turned white, then red, then purple.

“It’s not­­–” I stammered.

“You monster! Get away from my daughter!”

I was granted no more time to explain. Onar charged, Shae shrieked. Noise drowned out all reason as people stumbled over chairs, screaming, and shouting.

I reacted on instinct, pushing Shae one way while I weaved aside in the other direction.

Don’t let her get hurt.

No deaths, please no deaths.

I gave my senses free rein, let the emotions, fears, desires of everyone in the room flare to life in my mind, then used my new awareness to pivot on my back foot, seeking the one space in the room that gave me the greatest chance of avoiding casualties. Bracing to deflect a strike I brought my hands up.

Onar lunged towards Shae and me, but instead of dragging his daughter to safety he shot straight past her, aiming for my chest.

Cutting off my heartbeat, my breathing, every last useless muscle in my body I stepped into the attack, guided the pitchfork to the side with my left arm even while one of the tines bit into it. Then I reached further, using Onar’s momentum to aid the tine all the way through my arm as I grabbed for the handle.

Rafe barreled in from the street, but that was all the way on the other side of the room so I paid him no heed.

With the furious Onar caught off guard by my maneuver, I stepped back, pulling the pitchfork with me.

Thrown off-balance, Onar loosened his grip.

Ruthlessly, I yanked the pitchfork out of the stumbling farmer’s hands, backing up towards the stairs as I did so. Then, with a soundless snarl, I wrenched the weapon out of my body.

Disarmed, Onar regained his caution and edged away. Then Rafe was on him, dragging both Onar and Shae to safety.

Got to get out!

Need them to stay back first!

I snapped the handle of the pitchfork in a show of strength and threw both pieces to the side. Then I used the slowly descending silence to stare from face to face, evaluating risks and threats. My gaze settled on Ambi, and she dropped the knife she had picked up. In this new quiet the clatter as it fell to the ground startled the prey.

A fresh spike of fear wafted towards me, tempting me. Shock and horror permeated the air, clung to every surface, marinated the frantic drumbeat of their hearts. Somewhere slightly to the right of me, the pale-faced Chicken-broth-blood whimpered, stumbled over unsteady feet, clung desperately to the wall. No one came to aid the weakest of this herd.

Fear.

So much fear.

Of me…

They were all terrified of me, horrified by the unbleeding, unbreathing, emotionless monster in their mids. I had gone all out, had held nothing back in an attempt to keep Shae safe, and that had been a mistake. I had not fought like a person. I had not fought like I usually did with an audience. These people suspected what I was and so I had ruthlessly used my unnatural advantages, allowed my body to get hurt to end this fast.

Without a heartbeat, barely a drop of my blood had been spilled. Unbreathing, not a sound had escaped my lungs when I suffered the grievous wound in my arm. And then I had snatched that pitchfork out of Onar’s grasp and snapped it in two, with an arm that was so badly maimed it should have been useless.

The outcome was exactly like with Gery and the ahuizotl, only this time I could see people’s faces, could see and experience their reactions down to the tiniest detail, as they saw me for what I really was. Desperate, I pulled in a heaving lungful of air, forced a look of panicked shock onto my face, and sent my blood pumping again. Only the tiniest trickle of blood snaked out of the already healing wound on my arm.

It was another mistake. The all-enveloping terror in the room only intensified as I pulled my usual pretend humanity out of seemingly nowhere in a mere instant. The mask no longer worked to hide the monster now that everyone knew just how much of a lie it was.

Rafe and Tyro were the only two not paralyzed by fear. They hustled a shocked Onar, and a traumatized Shae and Eryn out of the room while my mind reeled with the consequences of my own actions. Edging backward my hands and feet sought the wall, the first step of the stairs.

“I’ll… I’ll be retiring to my room,” I stammered the second I found the way up. Then I turned around and barreled up the steps, wishing desperately that I knew how to cry.

The large window I had cursed earlier was now a blessing. Staying was absolutely out. The doors to the bedrooms had no locks so it was only a matter of minutes before someone would barge in. Exiting through the front door after that mess wasn’t an option either.

I lobbed the most important pieces of gear out the window first, thanking my earlier forethought not to unpack. Far too soon I heard someone come up the stairs. I sniffed the air. Tempered-steel. Hefting a bag full of more fragile gear over my shoulder I hoisted myself out the window. Only the tiniest orange glow still tinted the horizon, sparing me from the debilitating weakness I would have had to endure had I been forced to do this half an hour earlier.

A knock sounded on the door. Tempered-steel Ambi called my name. I cast one last glance at the stuff I was leaving behind, my crossbow by far the most expensive and hardest to replace. When the woman barged in I let myself drop, not even waiting to see if she had spotted me out of the window. Raking my bags off the ground I dashed into the forest