In the Forests of the Night

I throw his strike back at him, forcing him away from my mind. He stumbles slightly but then throws all his power at me. I fall into the table Fala sits upon and instantly feel her power strike out against me. For just a moment I lose focus, dropping the knife, and Aubrey pins me to the ground.

He has retrieved his knife.

This scene is familiar. I remember three hundred years ago, lying upon the forest ground, Aubrey pinning me, knife in hand. The memory brings a thread of terror, and I react instinctively. I do what I was not able to do then.

I throw Aubrey off me—not far, just a foot or so. But in the moment when he is off balance I shift into another form I know inside and out, one with the strength to fight.

The Bengal tiger is the largest feline on earth. Aubrey does not know the mind of a tiger, the pure animal instinct, and cannot find a hold. I slash at him, scoring his chest. The wounds heal in moments, but I have pushed him down again.

Aubrey tries to roll away, but I pin him to the ground. I am physically stronger than Aubrey, and though he is stronger when using his mind to fight, my mind is powerful enough to hold him off when I am in this form.

I look into his eyes, in which I can see a flicker of fear beneath a sheet of resignation. He almost looks as if he was expecting this moment.

I prepare for a killing strike. But he does not want to die.

'You've proved yourself, Risika,' he tells me. 'Years ago I gave you a choice between giving up and fighting to the death. Do I get no such chance?'

I hesitate. Aubrey, I know how this game works, I answer with my mind, as I cannot speak the human tongue when I am in this form. If I let you go now, what is to stop you from stabbing me in the back as soon as I turn away?

This doesn't need to be to the death, Risika, Aubrey insists. I can sense his desperation.

You gave me a choice because I was weak, Aubrey. I am stronger than you— we have proved that here—but I swore long ago that I would avenge all you have taken from me. And you took so much; the price is so high.

He moves his head back, exposing his throat, and I pause, waiting for him to explain. I paid a high price long ago for this life. I do not want it to end yet, he tells me with his mind. I offer you my blood in return for the blood I have spilled.

He is serious. The fool really would do anything to survive. My taking his blood would make me far stronger and open his mind to me completely. There would be no way for him to shield his mind from me, and no way for him to harm me with his mind, which would make it nearly impossible for him to hurt me. Physically he would have the same strength, but he could make no move that I could not read from his mind ahead of time.

I pause for only a moment, then return to human form and lean forward. My teeth pierce skin, and the blood flows. Vampire blood is far stronger than human blood.

His blood tastes like white wine, only thicker and far more potent, and I feel giddy when I pull away again, wiping blood from my lips. The wound on his throat heals instantly, but I know the wound to his pride will last as long as I do.

I pick Aubrey's knife up off the ground and contemplate it for a moment. He is defenseless, and if I struck him in the heart he could not raise a hand to protect himself. I trace the scar from my throat to my shoulder, remembering, and then, like lightning, I draw the knife along Aubrey's collarbone in an identical wound.

'Remember this day, Aubrey. The wound you dealt long ago has returned to you. I'll be satisfied with your blood, though it doesn't begin to replace the lives of Alexander and Tora. Now get out.'

I let go of his mind, yet I can still feel it completely. It is an eerie sensation. I stand easily, his blood racing through my veins, replacing the power I lost in the fight and far more.

Aubrey pulls himself up into a sitting position, using a nearby table. His skin is flour white, and his eyes are almost empty as he raises his hand to the wound on his shoulder. No one has ever wounded him and lived to tell of it.

He slowly stands to leave, and the humans move away as he walks through them. Those that remain know what we are, and they know what such blood loss has done to his hunger and how hard it is for him to maintain his control as he leaves the room.

I turn my back on him, unafraid, and return my gaze to Fala, who is still sitting serenely on the table. She does not seem to remember almost causing my death.

I lash out with my power, and she jumps up gracelessly as the wooden table catches fire. Fala disappears, not wanting to fight.

CHAPTER 21 NOW

I WALK TOWARD JAGER, and humans bump into each other to get out of my way. I laugh as they hurry from the room.

'Come to see the show?' I ask him.

'I told you you were stronger than Aubrey,' he says. 'The coward. I didn't expect him to offer so much just to live. You are probably one of the strongest of us now— maybe as strong as I. It would be interesting to find out.'

'Another time, Jager,' I answer. The adrenaline and energy from the fight are still in me, and part of me wants to fight something stronger. But the rational part of my mind tells me I am far too giddy to fight anyone seriously.

'Of course, Risika,' he agrees. Jager fights simply for the challenge, not for a prize, and he does not fight anyone who he does not think has a fair chance unless it is necessary. At the moment I am drunk on Aubrey's blood, and I would lose. 'Your eyes are still golden from shifting to a tiger,' he tells me.

'I like them this way.' I laugh, looking into the shattered mirror. My once misty reflection is now completely gone, but I can see myself in my mind's eye. My hair is still tiger striped, and my eyes are as golden as my silk tank top—the color they were when I was alive, before vampirism darkened them to black. I run my tongue along my teeth, licking off the last traces of Aubrey's blood.

Jager disappears, and I realize that almost everyone has left. Tossing a black strand of hair off my face, I feel for the first time a familiar aura in the back of the room. I remember it from a letter I received recently, a letter with a tearstain on the page.

'So my stalker would visit me in person,' I say to his back. In this light the blond hair looks almost exactly as my own once did. I reach out with my mind, and even though I cannot read him I realize what he is. I remember the Triste witch who had been in the Cafe Sangra, who had given a note for Rachel to his vampiric victim.

I did not think much about it at the moment, but now I wish I had. I swear, suddenly realizing the truth I should have realized long ago.

'I was hoping I could convince you not to follow those creatures…but I guess it's too late, isn't it?'

I remember wondering why I never heard him fall.

'Rachel — ' he starts to say.

'Alexander, don't talk to me.' He has waited three hundred years to tell me he is alive? I damned myself years ago. I had—or thought I had—nothing left to lose, then. All the years I was alone. All the pain he could have spared me…

What pain has he known? I never went back to my father, because I did not want him to see what I had become. Had I known my twin was alive, and immortal like me, would I have chosen to spend the years with him? Would he choose to spend them with me, knowing I'm a monster?

He turns around, and for a moment I look into golden eyes that are mirror reflections of my own. But then he looks past me, at the area where Aubrey and I fought. I see Alexander's gaze linger on the blood that pooled on the ground when I cut open Aubrey's shoulder.

'Why?' he finally asks, his voice soft. 'There had to be some other way to deal with this.'

I look into Alexander's eyes again and see the judgment there. It does not matter that I am his sister. He