Vespertine

“This is for me?”

“Yeah.” Salvatore measured Quinn’s reaction carefully, attempting to discern whether or not she was genuinely pleased.

Her eyes were positively glowing as they appraised the sleek black motorbike before her. He smiled to himself as she ran a finger over the vehicle, almost disbelievingly.

“Thank you,” she managed to say, her eyes still fixated on the bike. She forced herself to look up at her brother and tore herself away from her new ride long enough to give him a dizzyingly tight hug.

He patted her back, laughing as she swung a leg over the leather seat and then scowled when the bike tilted unexpectedly, causing her to wobble gracelessly.

“I got it,” she insisted, as Riana held out a hand to steady her. Sure enough, within a few minutes she was circling laps around the empty gym effortlessly.

Marissa offered her a grin. “Got your weapons ready?”

Quinn nodded, parking the bike and planting a foot on the ground. She tugged on the strap of the small pack that was slung across her back, the one that contained her knife and collapsed staff. She was wearing her holsters, but decided her weapons would be easier to carry, especially seeing as she would be riding her new bike.

Salvatore checked his phone, rapidly typing something before looking up and giving Quinn a reassuring smile. “We’ll leave in a couple minutes.” He then turned his attention to Riana, raising his eyebrows. She winked at him in response before walking away to join her own team and to make sure everyone else knew their roles.

Salvatore smiled as she walked away. Quinn felt something that was equal parts warmth and jealousy. She had always been thankful that Riana was there for Salvatore, even before she knew the V’s existed and Riana was just her brother’s girlfriend. She became doubly glad once Salvatore and her parents had told her the truth about the V’s, and perhaps even more so when their parents died. When it became just Salvatore’s job. But she could never shake the faint resentment, the unfairness of it, how Salvatore had someone like her to talk to and hold and confide in. She had nobody but her brother, and even then, there were things she just couldn’t talk to him about.

She glanced unconsciously at Marissa.

Marissa caught her looking, but instead of making a scathing remark like she used to, she just walked over and tugged on Quinn’s ponytail playfully. “Cheer up,” she teased, referring to Quinn’s serious expression. “This’ll be the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

She managed a half-smile. “We’ll kick ass, right?”

Marissa nodded sagely. “Exactly.”

Salvatore strode over and glanced at them. “Masks on.” His own was already set firmly across his face, the white V covering half his face and showing only his dark brown eyes and his lips.

Quinn and Marissa both slipped on their own masks with a fluid motion. Quinn breathed out deeply. She felt safer under the mask, somehow—more invincible.

A minute later, the three of them pulled out of the garage, Marissa and Salvatore in her subtle, dark car, and Quinn roaring behind them on her bike.

It only took them twenty minutes to reach the compound— Quinn almost couldn’t believe it. Right here in Aski, so close by, all this time. She couldn’t even believe it had taken them so long to find the V’s in the first place.

But it didn’t matter. They were here now, and they were going to win. They had to. She thought of Leo again, his warm demeanor and the way he was always kind. She remembered the familiar scene of walking into the coffee shop and seeing him reading a book at the counter. She felt a pang knowing she would never, ever see that again. The image of his dead body laying so still on the floor, the blood pooled around his head, flashed through her mind. She steeled herself as she parked next to Marissa’s car, on the trail in the woods. They would walk the rest of the way. She got off as Salvatore and Marissa got out of the car, and pulled her pack off, holstering her weapons and hanging the empty pack on the handle.

They snuck towards the compound quickly, but quietly. As they approached, Salvatore pulled her back just before they exited the woods. She could see the compound up ahead, a large but flat collection of warehouses and black brick buildings connected by enclosed metal pathways.

He pointed to a small storage shed at the very edge of the compound. “There.”

Quinn frowned. “There’s nothing—oh. Secret passageway?”

“Yes,” Marissa said softly, fingering her gun. “If we’re lucky, and we’re fast enough, we can get there before anybody gets to us. And once we’re in, we’ll have the advantage of only defending a single entry point. That is, if anybody even decides to chase us. Apparently, even some of the sorcerers here don’t know that a passageway exists.”

“On three,” Salvatore said. “Run as fast as you can.”

Quinn braced herself, glancing down to make sure her boots hadn’t unlaced. On Salvatore’s count, the three of them streaked out from the woods, Marissa taking the lead and Salvatore not far behind.

She pumped her legs faster, but she couldn’t quite close the gap that was widening by the second. She heard a shout and her heart pounded faster, and it motivated her to move her legs even more rapidly. She felt as though she was about to tip over.

Salvatore and Marissa had reached the shed, and Salvatore pulled out a wire and began picking the lock. His fingers moved deftly.

Marissa was watching Quinn, motioning for her to hurry. She gave one final effort and made it there just as they heard another shout.

Marissa and Quinn froze, the former putting a finger to her lips unnecessarily. Salvatore, however, kept working, unfazed by the possibility of an attacker.

None came. The lock clicked and Salvatore pulled the door open, revealing a seemingly normal, dimly lit shed.

They went in and locked the door again. Marissa probed the walls until she came to the electric panel in the shed, hidden slightly behind a shelf, though there were only a couple of bare light bulbs that hung from the ceiling. She opened it and pressed three random buttons simultaneously, and Quinn watched in astonishment as a section of the floor receded. Marissa aimed her handheld flashlight at it, revealing steep stone steps that led into darkness.

They began descending, and Quinn pressed a button on the wall at Marissa’s instruction. The panel closed above them, cutting off what little light had been coming in. Now, Marissa’s flashlight was the only thing breaking up the darkness.

“This seems too easy,” Quinn whispered. “Why didn’t we get attacked? Isn’t it kind of their job to fight us?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Marissa responded. “This is just called good planning, and a tiny bit of luck.”

“Besides,” Salvatore added as he led the way down, “the fighting’s already begun.”

“Need some coffee?” Scarlett teased as she bumped Caiden’s shoulder lightly. Caiden snapped out of his empty reverie and blinked, looking at the wall he had been intently staring at.

“Very funny,” he said, sarcastically. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“I know,” she replied, pushing past him. He was standing in the World’s Biggest Safety Hazard, and had been gazing at the knives section. It hadn’t gone so well last time, but for some reason he felt as though he had to have one on him. He didn’t like guns, and the stunner seemed too easy to fumble.

His decision was made as Scarlett pulled one off the wall and tossed it to him. He instinctively recoiled, even as he caught it with his right hand. He scowled. “You know?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re always nervous.”

“Can you blame me? The V’s are coming. I’ve never had a real confrontation with them.”

“You’ve never had a real confrontation with anybody,” she responded lightly, picking a knife off the wall for herself. “But you’ve been training for years, and you started young, too. Technically, you should be better than most of them.”

“Too bad Astor never lets me go anywhere. I might’ve gotten some experience if he had.”

“You know why.” She looked at him critically. “And besides, if anything went wrong, you could just heal yourself. What’s there to be nervous about?”

He shrugged. “Not sure.”

They were silent for a moment, and then Scarlett narrowed her eyes. “It’s Quinn, isn’t it?”

“No,” he denied vehemently.

“Yes,” she accused. “You’re nervous about seeing her again. What, do you have a crush on her?”

“Obviously not,” he snapped back. “I just…she’ll know I lied to her.”

Scarlett threw up her hands. “And that matters why?”

“I just don’t like lying,” he replied defensively.

She sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

He sighed, too. “I know. But I’ll get over it.”

“You better,” she said, sheathing the knife and pocketing a small device—grenade, maybe—before turning towards the door again. “And you better do it fast. You’ve only got six hours before the V’s are gonna be here.”

“Where are you going?”

She waved him off dismissively, without even turning to look at him. “I have things to take care of. Don’t worry. We’ll meet up once we’re under attack.” She said the words “under attack” almost gleefully, as if she couldn’t wait to be mauled.

Caiden scowled. She wasn’t helpful in the slightest.

The stone steps gradually became less steep, until they ended altogether and the ground leveled out. The flashlight cut through the darkness, but Quinn could see no end to the tunnel. The space was still narrow, barely wide enough for the three of them to stand shoulder to shoulder.

Marissa handed Quinn the flashlight and felt along the wall. “The tunnel should run for about a hundred yards before it splits into two. Our source told us to take the left one. And just for that, I’m more inclined to go right.”

“But why? Everything they’ve said is right so far,” Quinn pointed out, speaking softly. “How are we supposed to know if they’ve lied to us at all?”

They looked at Salvatore. Quinn could barely make him out in the darkness, but she could imagine that he had a thoughtful look on his face.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I agree with Marissa. The guy we interrogated probably wanted to sabotage us, but knew that if he gave us false information from the beginning we wouldn’t walk into the trap. This seems like the optimal place for him to lead us into one. We go right.”

Quinn nodded, and gave the flashlight back to Marissa as she put her hand out for it. They continued along the tunnel single file, with their hands on the right wall. When the wall seemed to begin curving, Marissa flicked the flashlight off. They stopped walking.

Quinn waited patiently for her eyes to adjust. Even down here, she had to be able to see something eventually. She would be able to at least detect movement. She could hear Marissa breathing softly in front of her.

“The tunnel is supposed to end shortly, at which point there should be rungs hammered into the cave wall that’ll lead into the compound. Astor’s office won’t be far from this escape route,” Salvatore whispered. “Of course, we don’t know if our source was lying about that, too. But it’s all we have.”

He continued forward and Marissa followed, Quinn right on her heels. Quinn frowned. Something wasn’t quite right.

The wall was sloping too severely—it didn’t seem to be the wall of a tunnel. And Quinn could feel more air, more space than the narrow tunnel would have allowed. It definitely wasn’t ending any time soon.

She glanced at her feet. They weren’t that big. And all of a sudden she realized that it was because there was a shadow on the edge of her black boots, which should have been impossible in the pitch of the tunnel, with Marissa’s flashlight turned off. And that meant that the light was coming from somewhere else, which meant they weren’t alone.

Her head snapped up as Salvatore grunted suddenly. Marissa put out a hand to stop Quinn from advancing further, but all of a sudden, she was gone, too.

Quinn ran forward towards the middle of the cave. A blinding flash of fire sailed over her head, making her immensely grateful that she hadn’t stayed where she was.

Another fireball lit up the place, but this time it streaked towards the wall of the cavern, where it found a home in a torch hanging from the wall. A few moments later, the entire place was lit in a similar fashion.

Quinn barely had time to take in the scene before someone slammed into her, causing her to stagger backwards as her head spun.

She managed to regain her balance by supporting herself against the wall, and then dove to one side, narrowly avoiding another hit. In that instant, she canvassed her surroundings. Two sorcerers were tossing Salvatore around, and Marissa was in a similar position. The cavern itself was large, probably spanning around 50 yards in any direction, and was mostly empty save for a stacked wall of crates on the far end. The wooden boxes covered a substantial amount of ground, but the fighting hadn’t reached quite so far.

All of this occurred to Quinn briefly before her thoughts were preoccupied with the large hulk of a sorcerer coming for her again. “Why do I get the big one?” She muttered to herself, warily backing up.

She could hear Marissa’s chiding voice in her head. Don’t complain. Just fight.

She sized him up. He wasn’t the fire-thrower—Salvatore seemed to have had the bad luck of tangling with that particular mage. But God, he was huge. She was surprised he hadn’t broken anything with his first hit.

She suddenly felt very small, even as she deftly pulled out her knife and staff, expanding the latter until she balanced a long staff that was taller than she. Salvatore had given her a new one after her old one had been burnt to a crisp during the raid, this one made of metal. It made a pretty, metallic clicking noise as the last joint locked into place. Quinn noticed that none of the sorcerers were carrying guns, probably because the government wanted to take them alive. It didn’t matter. This guy looked like he could easily overdo it and leave her snapped in two.

She felt her back hit the wall again as he stalked towards her and cursed under her breath. It was never a good idea to be cornered. She readied her staff as he approached, and as the fist came towards her she ducked and slammed the staff into his gut before scampering backwards.

He looked at her, irritated but unimpressed. Clearly she hadn’t hit him hard enough.

She held her staff in front of her to keep him at bay. She couldn’t allow him to get close. If he got his arms around her, it would be all over. This posed somewhat of a problem, since she had no way of using her knife now unless she threw it, and she didn’t have enough confidence in her aim for that.

He lunged for her again, and she twirled her staff to meet his arm, but felt a strong grip on the other end. Uh-oh.

He gave a sharp tug on her staff, and she had no choice but to let go lest she be pulled towards him, too. He grinned at her, tapping his other palm with the staff, like an impatient teacher with a ruler.

Now he had her range weapon, and all she had was a knife. Great. The sounds of Marissa and Salvatore groaning in pain every once in a while didn’t help, either. But she couldn’t worry about them right now. Right now, the man with the staff—her staff—was striding towards her with a cocky smirk, and if she didn’t resolve this problem very soon, she’d probably get pummeled with her own weapon.

She licked her lips unconsciously, and then did her best to sneer at the sorcerer before remembering that she had a mask on. He was circling her. “What’s wrong?” She taunted. “Come at me. I dare you. Big strong guy like you shouldn’t have a problem with a little girl like me, right?”

A look of annoyance flashed across his face and he lunged forward, jabbing with her staff. She sidestepped and then got in close, landing a punch before jumping back out of reach. Her hit didn’t seem to have much effect—he hardly recoiled.

Patiently, he advanced again, and feinted with the staff. Belatedly, Quinn realized that he was faking and tried desperately to reverse the course of her dodge, but the staff came up quick on her other side and slammed into her ribs.

She gasped in pain and glared at the sorcerer. He grinned at her. “Not much fun being on the other end, huh?”

“I’m going to kill you,” she hissed through clenched teeth. She could tell he was getting more confident by the second; twirling the staff in a fancy pattern as she stepped backwards and he came forwards, matching her footsteps. She could use that to her advantage.

He came at her again, and this time she didn’t attempt to evade the metal weapon by running away. Instead, she let it swing its course as she stepped right up to his chest and he frowned, trying to redirect the staff so that it would make contact with her. This slowed him down just a bit, but a bit was enough.

Quinn smirked as she grasped the staff as it came toward her and she hit the button on the end, collapsing the staff. He narrowed his eyes in surprise as the staff quickly shrank, and she twisted the compact weapon quickly, jamming it into his wrist. He let go and attempted to swing at her, but she ducked and sliced with her knife, and then re-expanded her staff as she turned towards him, catching him right in the chest.

This time he staggered backwards, and Quinn allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction, though her own ribs still stung.

He looked at her with an expression of murderous rage. It wasn’t the first time Quinn had seen that look, but for some reason it unnerved her. She felt her fear grow as he took a step back and a roar issued from his mouth—a sound she had never heard a human make.

A moment later, a huge grizzly bear stood where the sorcerer had just been.

“A Kindred,” she groaned. “Why does this happen to me?”

Kindreds had once intrigued her. She had known one back in middle school, a mean girl that assumed the form of a sleek leopard, sometimes in the middle of class, just because she could. A kind of shape-shifting sorcerer, they had the ability to transform into animals, but it was dependent upon each individual sorcerer which animal they would become.

Why the hell did this one have to be a 600-pound grizzly bear?

She resisted the urge to call for help. It would only prove that she was a liability, that Salvatore had made a mistake in making her the third member of their team. Besides, he and Marissa had their hands full.

The Kindred was advancing.

Quinn suddenly found it hard to think. What exactly was she supposed to do? She was trained in hand-to-hand combat, not hand-to…claw.

She scrambled backwards as he towered over her. She knew instinctively that she would have to damage him until he could no longer sustain his transformation, but she wouldn’t get there fighting to knock him out. She would have to go for the kill if she wanted to survive.

She took a deep breath, and charged.

She slashed brusquely with her knife, drawing it along the sorcerer’s side. He roared and swiped a heavy paw at her, but she dropped to the floor and rolled out of the way. A moment later she came back up, swinging her staff to ward off his blows and plunging the knife into him from above, just below his shoulder. She planted her feet and gritted her teeth as she felt his tough hide and muscle resist the blade, and was forced to let go as he jerked away from her and threw himself towards her, jaws snapping.

She bounced back, eyeing him warily. He was on all fours now, the knife still lodged in him. Quinn couldn’t tell if he was bleeding or not—his dark, matted fur in the minimal torchlight provided no hint. She hoped he was.

Quinn could tell he was getting ready to charge her, and an idea began to form in her head. She collapsed the staff deftly and did her best to put on a cocky smile, despite her trembling cheeks. She mockingly beckoned him with a finger.

He growled and ran straight for her, jaws wide and spittle flying, his massive legs covering the short distance between them in seconds.

Filled with fear, Quinn nonetheless stood her ground and just as his mouth was about to clamp down on her, she jammed the staff in between the roof of his mouth and his jaw and hit the button.

The staff began to expand and his eyes widened. Quinn could hear her heart pounding rapidly. She supposed she would find out just how strong her new staff was right about now.

For a terrifying moment, she thought that he might crush the staff with ease, but then all of a sudden the fur and the teeth and everything was gone, and the sorcerer stumbled back, human once more, the staff slipping to the ground.

He was definitely bleeding as he painstakingly pulled her knife from his shoulder, looking exhausted as he stumbled backwards. Quinn scooped up her staff, panting as she let out a breath of relief. The immediate danger of being eaten had passed.

But it wasn’t over. She spread her legs in a fighting stance as they circled each other again.

And then, from across the cavern, she heard Marissa call out sharply, a warning embedded in her voice, “Sal-!”

“Quit jittering,” Dante hissed at Caiden.

Caiden realized that he was bouncing his leg again and made a conscious effort to stop. “Sorry,” he apologized softly, but rolled his eyes once Dante turned his back. He didn’t like the brutish Kindred much, but then again, he didn’t like much of the department.

There were six of them assigned to this cavern, including Caiden. They were currently stationed behind the stacked crates, even though it was dark enough that they could’ve been standing out in the open. Caiden couldn’t see anything, but he knew that Silva was on the lookout. Her hypersensitivity allowed her to detect any miniscule shifts in the air, and she was more than capable of knowing whether any mortals came their way. She was also the only one of the bunch he could really stand, and that was mostly because she didn’t talk much.

Ares was snapping his fingers absentmindedly, lighting flames and then snuffing them out. Brietta and Luis were standing by vigilantly. The silence was driving Caiden insane.

“Where’s Scarlett?” He whispered, unable to stay silent any longer. Brietta shrugged.

“Probably guarding the other cavern,” she replied.

Caiden frowned. “She told me we’d meet up.”

She spoke again, but wasn’t really looking at him. “I guess she got reassigned. It doesn’t matter. Just make sure you can do your job here.”

Resignedly, he leaned back against the wall of crates.

“They’re here,” Silva said abruptly. Everybody turned towards her, straightening up. Only Caiden stayed in his spot. “Three of them, at the entrance to the cavern. Two women, one man, I think.”

“Must be Salvatore,” Brietta noted softly.

Dante nodded. “Good. How far?”

Silva cocked her head. “A couple more meters and they’ll be out in open space.” She indicated for Ares to snuff out his flame, and he obliged, plunging them into total darkness as his fist closed. She continued speaking. “I’ll take Salvatore, and Ares will provide backup. Brietta and Luis, you take whoever’s next, and Dante, you’re in charge of whoever is bringing up the rear. Caiden, be ready to go in case anything happens.”

Caiden nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. He was their fail-safe, arguably the most powerful out of them all, which he found funny. A sixteen-year-old kid that had never seen battle was their backup.

And then they were off. A faint grunt sounded from across the cavern, and Caiden knew they had made contact. A brief flare lit up the darkness before it disappeared again, and then the whole cave was awash in firelight. Ares must’ve lit the torches.

He could hear the sounds of fighting, feet scuffing the dirt floor, groans and shouts and commands, the sounds of weapons crunching into flesh and bone. He resisted the urge to peek from behind the crates. They would send him a signal if they needed him.

Caiden knew he was supposed to stay out of sight, but his curiosity was overwhelming. He felt tortured being able to hear, but not see what was happening. He managed to restrain himself for another couple seconds before he could resist no longer, and peeked out from behind the crates.

Silva and Ares were ferociously raining assault down on Salvatore, but he seemed to be holding his own. Brietta and Luis were teamed up against the other sorcerer, their backs blocking his view of her. He glanced to the edge of the cavern and winced as he saw Dante corner a young mortal. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was Quinn, recognizable even behind her mask by the way she moved.

He ducked back behind the crates as she turned in his general direction, his heart pounding. He realized he felt something like pity for her, a teenage girl going up against a brutish Kindred like Dante. She would probably get pummeled.

Or maybe not, he thought, remembering what Scarlett had told him. Quinn Vespertine was not to be underestimated.

Another few tense, suspenseful minutes passed before Caiden decided to risk another peek.

Ares was lying against the wall, probably unconscious. Caiden hoped. Silva was still entangled with Salvatore Vespertine. Caiden knew from experience that Silva was hard to take down.

Across the cavern, he heard a roar, and his head snapped in Dante’s direction. He had transformed into his other form, and was advancing on Quinn. He could see panic flashing across her face. His heart felt like it was crawling up his throat, like watching an exciting death match on television. Only it was real, and it was here, and he was stuck behind some crates, unable to join in.

Not that he wanted to. In fact, he wished that he could run away, retreat back to his room or better yet, a quiet library. Not this shit show.

A groan came from Brietta’s direction. She was crawling away from the second member of their team, though Luis was still fighting. She broke free from Luis and delivered a swift blow to Brietta’s head, and Brietta knocked out, collapsing on the ground. Luis struck from behind, but she turned and incapacitated him gracefully. As Luis fell, Caiden finally got a glimpse of what she looked like, and his eyes widened.

She looked to Salvatore, who had been taken off guard by a feint, and even from where Caiden was, he could see that Silva’s mace was about to make fatal contact, and she yelled out, “Sal-!”

Salvatore looked down in shock at the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Sal!” He heard Marissa shout. But it didn’t quite register.

Quinn quickly beat back the sorcerer, and turned her head towards Marissa’s voice.

She only had time to see Sal stumble and fall before the sorcerer was on her again, fists swinging. But she had seen blood, and her desperation made her strong. She ducked as the sorcerer swiped a hand, and then brought her staff up and across his cheek, harder than she had ever hit before. He knocked out instantly and fell backwards.

Marissa had defeated the last of the sorcerers, but Quinn was closer to where Salvatore was. She threw down her staff and knife, and ran over to where her brother lay.

“Sal,” she gasped, kneeling next to him and clasping his hand in hers. “Sal, can you hear me?” His eyes were open but unfocused, and he didn’t respond. His hands were still warm. It felt surreal. This was Salvatore, for god’s sake. Sal, who always came back from missions unscathed. Sal, who was invincible.

“Sal, please, hold on,” Quinn begged, fumbling with his jacket. She opened it wider so she could examine his wound, which soaked his white shirt crimson. It was bad. She took his hand again, and passed her other hand uselessly over the wound a couple times, shaking. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to do.

“Salvatore, you can’t do this to me,” she said fiercely, wiping away the tears that had started to form. “Sal, please just hold on a little longer. I-I’ll get you some help. Just hold on.”

She felt his hand tighten, just the tiniest bit, around her fingers. His mouth moved minutely, but he uttered no words. Quinn could feel the blood rushing to her face, her vision going blurry.

“You are all I have left,” she heard herself say, hunching over his body and clutching his hand tighter in hers, bringing it close to her chest. She shook her head furiously. “Sal, you are all I have left!” She was screaming now. “You can’t do this to me!”

Her shoulders were heaving, and it was all she could do to continue taking jagged, shuddering breaths. His eyes seemed to be dimming. But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Yet she knew, somewhere deep down. It wrenched at her stomach. Her mind raced, jumping disjointedly from one thought to another. He couldn’t go. She had so many things to say, and no time to say them.

She bent down, pressed her lips hesitantly to his cheek. “Stay safe,” she whispered. She could hear the air as he inhaled, one final time. His lips curved upwards, almost so slightly that it wasn’t noticeable. But Quinn saw his telltale dimple forming, a miniscule impression. Something she’d seen a million times. He never let the breath out.

Always do.

She felt his hand slacken. Fall out of hers. Colliding gently with the ground, and taking her heart with it.

She felt herself slumping, slumping over his body. She felt something, staining her cheeks. Her tears. His blood. She wasn’t sure.

She was numb. It was all she could do to breathe.

Marissa was sitting against the cave wall, right hand clutching the wound on her left arm. She seemed to be crying, shoulders shaking. Quinn wasn’t sure. She wasn’t even aware of her own wounds, aching and throbbing. She could hear her own heart beating, dark and heavy, slow, like it couldn’t believe she was still alive after what had just happened.

An eternity later, she realized her tears had stopped running. She was stiff from not moving. She sat up slowly, and stroked Sal’s cheek. He was still staring, staring at nothing. Looking at him, she felt removed. She watched herself gently pass her hand over his face, bringing his eyelids over his empty gaze. She noted that he looked somber, the sweet half-smile gone as his muscles had stopped working. She saw Marissa, limping over.

“Let’s go home,” she said quietly. Quinn felt her warm hand around her waist and Marissa helped her up.

It still didn’t seem real. Home. Home was where Sal was. Home was where Sal used to be.

She got a familiar feeling in her stomach, like the one she had when Salvatore had told her that their parents were gone. A strange churning, a gradual ripping apart of her insides. It made her sick.

And then there was suddenly a new pain in her stomach, a real one, and she looked at Marissa in shock.

She slowly turned her eyes to her abdomen and faintly saw the handle of her own knife protruding from it. Around the handle were Marissa’s pretty, slender fingers, and around the blade was Quinn’s blood, spilling slowly onto the dirt floor.

She looked back at Marissa, into her perfect green eyes. She wore no expression, but even if she had, Quinn couldn’t focus on that right now, because there was a burning pain spreading from her stomach to her veins to her heart and it stung, and she couldn’t breathe, and—

—out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement and Marissa was suddenly no longer in her line of sight, only she didn’t care, because everything was going dark, and she felt her legs giving way.