The agony was sudden and blinding. Snape had watched Lorelei suffer through the other four vials, but that was nothing compared to this. She screamed and her veins stood out black under her skin. Her eyes flooded with blackness too, looking like empty holes in her white face. She looked like an ivory sculpture that had begun to crack.
The bite scar on her neck opened and blood gushed from the two punctures. It soaked her white blouse red as she clawed at her face. Then, the blood flowed black and began to clot. It congealed, then hardened, and crumbled to black dust. More blood poured from her eyes and mouth. She collapsed with another wail and passed out cold.
Her mind wandered into a nightmare trance. The holes in her throat were burning. She was somewhere dark and full of winding hallways. She could never see more than a few feet ahead of her and wasn’t sure if the darkness was in the hallways or in her eyes. The disembodied feel of a nightmare hung over her.
“It’s a dream,” she said aloud, relieved to hear her own voice. She repeated it like a mantra as she went. She called for help a few times, but no sound but her own breathing could be heard. Not even her footsteps made a sound. Then, she nearly fell when the floor suddenly became stairs.
At the bottom of those stairs, lay Esme. She was sprawled out on her side. Her black coat blended with the shadows so well that only her head and hands were very visible. It was also hard to tell if she was breathing. Her mirror shades hid her eyes, making her face all that much more expressionless. Lorelei called to her, but she didn’t move.
“She can’t help you anymore,” purred a voice that made Lorelei’s skin crawl. Gaston materialized out of the darkness, sauntering down the corridor toward her. The part of her that didn’t cringe was quietly amazed at how young he seemed now. He was as she remembered him, but she’d aged 10 years, and he hadn’t. He was a kid, though a dangerous one. His eyes gleamed red and his arrogant smirk was razor-sharp.
“She can’t even hear you,” he went on. “Not over all the noise.” He took a few steps closer. “You know that story about vampires not being able to cross running water? It’s not true.” He spread out his arms and let his hands hang limp at the end of them, pantomiming crucifixion.
A hand exploded out of his chest, making Lorelei gasp. It was a woman’s hand, long nails and elaborate jewelry glinting on the pale fingers. Gaston’s body fell backwards as Vanessa stepped out of him, shedding him like a cicada’s skin. She was a beautiful, elegant woman. Her hair fell in waves to the floor, gleaming here and there from some gemmed ornament. Silk patterned like a snakeskin hung from her shoulders.
“Your sister is walking on glass now,” she said. Her voice was higher than Lorelei had expected, but not shrill. “She hasn’t broken through yet, but she has to step carefully. If she moves too quickly, the glass will break and she will fall...But you know all about that don’t you? You’ve been so careful, so correct...And for what?” She bent over in a mocking bow. Her head slid off, rolling away on the floor and disappearing into the shadows.
Lorelei was left staring in horror into the black hole of Vanessa’s neck. Two red eyes blinked out of it at her and then Opal’s face squeezed out of the neck. She grinned playfully, the childish expression ruined by the fangs. Vanessa’s body was stepped out of like an oversize garment and the child vampire tossed her blond hair.
“You were so desperate not to become a vampire,” she said, almost sulkily. “What were you so afraid of? That your oh-so-wicked sister would come and cut off your head like she did mine? We couldn’t let her have that satisfaction could we? Oh no.”
“She wouldn’t,” Lorelei whispered. Opal was still smoothing her hair, but she looked over her shoulder at her. The contempt on her face was plain.
“What do you care, anyway?” she gestured at Esme’s body still on the floor. “Those damn werewolves were closer to her than you ever were. She left you behind and then you left her. I think you’re well rid of each other.” She smoothed her bangs with one hand and then rammed her fingers into her own eyes.
Lorelei flinched, but found herself watching as the girl ripped her own face off to reveal Nathiel’s. He tore Opal’s body off and stood glowering down at her. He was tall and grim and cold. His lips curled in a sneer at her.
“Sniveling little meatbag,” he growled. “At least that one had the guts to fight. You cowered in the dark for a year. She killed ME...She lied and robbed and murdered to do it, but she killed ME. You fell to a half-fanged punk no older than yourself!”
“It’s just as well,” Brohm’s too-familiar voice made her spin away from Nathiel. The vampire lord stood at the foot of the stairs, one booted foot resting on Esme’s head. “As soon as your blood touched my lips I knew I wouldn’t turn you. There’s something burning in your veins, little doll, something powerful. I thought it best not to give you an eternity to use it. I thought you were to be my last child, but you’ve slipped from my fingers.
“This one,” he leaned some weight onto his foot and Esme’s sunglasses crunched. “Was lucky to get as far as she did. She managed to save YOU, but her luck has run out and her friends are far away.”
“Esme!” screamed Lorelei.
“I’m here,” the body said suddenly. Her voice sounded weak and distant, and over it, Lorelei thought she heard the sound of running water. “Where are you?” Before Lorelei could answer, Brohm grinned and crushed Esme’s skull under his foot. There was a cracking sound and a gush of blood, and Lorelei screamed herself awake.
Snape was there, his coat wadded up into a pillow under her head. She looked around wildly, still expecting to see her dead sister bleeding in the floor. She had a roaring headache. Her head felt like a boot had gone through it too. Snape pulled her hands away from her head to peer into her eyes.
“They’re still red,” he said, forehead creasing with worry. “How do you feel?” The pain behind her eyes tripled. She wasn’t able to form another thought through the agony. She burst into tears.