"Why did you bring her here? We're crowded as it is," Nel whispered in Peter's ear as she watched Rena lay down her bedroll. "Siobhan has that slap-shod lodge, doesn't she?"

  Peter shook his head, raising his hand to silence his wife. Clearly incensed by this, Nel frowned and huffed, turning quickly away from him. Better change the topic, quick. "Did Ash and Maple go to sleep without much fuss?"

  Nel wasn't buying it. She looked back at him, eyes like hot pokers. "Not easily. Ash insisted on a story from you, but he eventually fell asleep."

  "I'm sorry. But I worried my Uncle wouldn't be fair to Rena..." Peter tried to explain. This time Nel held up her hand in a command for silence, letting out a shaky sigh.

  "Rena can take care of herself," Nel whispered, a few of her words rising to a squeak. Rena looked over at them, and when her and Nel's eyes met, both quickly looked away.

  "Fine. I'll leave. I don't want to come between you two," Rena said in a low voice, just barely audible from across the room.

  "Know what, why don't the two of you excuse yourselves and talk this out? I don't want to be constantly caught in the crossfire here," Peter said, struggling to keep his voice low. The last thing they needed was to wake the children. Rena stood up and nodded, tilting her head to the exit with her gaze fixed on Nel. Nel scoffed and threw her hands up in the air, but then her shoulders drooped and she conceded. The two women walked out together.

  Peace between the two women would help his blood pressure, but Peter had an ulterior motive. He tip-toed into the other room where his mother and two children lay asleep in the same bed. They were nestled under the sleeping furs, Jill's arms about Maple, and Maple hugging Ash. Peter smiled, moving as quietly as he could towards them, leaning over to kiss each of his two children gently on their hair, listening to their deep, tranquil breathing. His mother's breathing was a bit less serene, interrupted with snorts and phlegmy sounds that didn't quite make it to a cough, but it was reassuring in its familiarity. His hand hovered over his mother's shoulder, then hesitated. No, better let her sleep. I best go straight to the source.

  Bridled with doubts on his teetering resolve, Peter slunk out the back of the house, seeking to avoid detection from his wife or his vampire guardian. He then made his way to the lodge, determined to speak with Cyrus, man to... something akin to a man.

  Peter stood at the end of the hall, staring at the three doors before him. Just as he stepped forward he saw the middle one open. He froze. But it wasn't Cyrus who left, but instead one of the Day sisters. He paused, wondering if the innkeeper got the rooms confused when she told him Cyrus was in the middle. Lily pulled her nightgown up, which had slipped down over her shoulder and tip-toed to the next room, taking great care to open it as silently as possible. Peter said nothing as he observed. Oh. He did not want to know but his mind kept spitting out assumptions. Assumptions which he kept trying to bat away like bothersome flies buzzing about his brain.

  Finally, Peter knocked on the door.

  "Forget something?" came a man's voice.

  "Cyrus?" Peter asked, calling softly through the door. There was a clatter inside followed by that patter of bare feet and creak of floorboards before the door opened. Peter looked down at the vampire, astounded by how short he truly was without his snow gear. One eyebrow furrowed, the other raised, and large nearly black eyes peered up at him from long, messy bangs that curled about the pale man's temples. His age was hard to discern, but his attitude was not.

  "I seem to be a popular attraction tonight. Well, what is it?" Cyrus crossed his arms.

  "What were you going to say about Monty?"

  "Oh ho ho ho? Going behind Rena's back? Well, come in, come in, and I'll tell her precious boy all about dear old Monty," Cyrus said, his expression brightening considerably as he stood aside, gesturing for him to come inside. Peter hesitated, but more than curiosity drove him. He felt this information might help him support Rena. He hung his head, but walked inside, closing the door behind him.

  Cyrus propped up his mismatched pillows against the wall and sat upon his bed, the sound of crinkling reaching Peter. "Alright, Cyrus, tell me about dear old Monty, as you put it."

  "First things first. Remind me, you said you were a descendant of Monty? Monty, as in, the son of Jordan? Or does your family keep records of that sort of thing?" Cyrus babbled, watching Peter with evident delight at sharing whatever secret he had.

  Peter walked over to the opposing bed and sunk down onto it. It was not very comfortable and he found himself shifting. "Yes. All direct descendents of Jordan Fisher are taught our lineage. And I believe that Monty was Jordan's first born?"

  "Impressive," Cyrus said, clapping his hands together once. "I never met Monty. But I know something juicy about him, that Rena will probably flog me for sharing. But I'm not afraid of her."

  Peter looked at the door. Can I even trust this guy? What am I even doing here? He looked back at the impish vampire. "Alright. What is this big secret that is going to shatter our beliefs and topple society?"

  "I never said it would do all that," Cyrus said with a frown.

  "You hype it up like it might," Peter responded critically.

  "I guess so. Enough theatrics, though I do love theatrics. Amber Fisher was not Monty's mother. Irene Lockyn was."

  "Irene...?" Peter repeated.

  "Rena. Rena is your ancestor," Cyrus said, giddy as he shared this tidbit.

  Peter stared at Cyrus. "Is that all?" he asked. Cyrus raised his eyebrows, then furrowed them with a slight pout.

  "Well, yes. What if I told you, Monty was born after Rena became a vampire?" Cyrus added, as if trying to milk some of the drama out of an anti-climactic twist.

  Furrowing his eyebrows and scratching his neck, Peter considered the ramifications. If Rena was their ancestor, then banishing her was an even greater disservice than he thought. Hold on.

  "How did Rena have children after becoming a vampire?" Clearly, Cyrus wanted him to ask, as he nearly bubbled with glee once the question was asked. Peter opted to try and make himself comfortable by rearranging some pillows.

  "Well, not well known is that reproductive organs are among the last to deteriorate in vampires. The process of becoming a vampire may take up to a year. Sometimes two. Men can certainly father children with ease. Though near the end of transition, fertility reduces and there's a higher chance of nasty birth defects and mutations." Peter frowned, unsure why Cyrus was talking about male potency, when it was a woman they were discussing. Seeming to note Peter's waning interest, Cyrus leaned forward. "Women have it hard. Their... unpleasant and wasteful cycles continue for about a year, giving them voracious appetites to replenish their stores. Just enough time to have one child, though as time goes on fertility drops. They also have a higher chance of birth defects the longer they wait." Cyrus grimaced.

  "Alright, so vampires can have children... but does that mean Monty was a vampire? Are we all part vampire?" Peter asked, puzzled. That wouldn't make sense. But he did not know much about vampires beyond what they were taught.

  "No. He was mortal. Anyway, long story short, I helped convince a fertility doc to freeze some of Irene's eggs. Her reasons are her own, but as I understand it, Jordan's wife, Amber, agreed to be a surrogate. So although she carried the child to term, the egg was Rena's. So you're related." Cyrus held out his hands, as if offering a prize. Peter squinted. "Why isn't this blowing you away?"

  "It happened long ago. It's not like she's my mother. For all I know, I'm related to you as well, distantly." Peter responded, shrugging.

  "I doubt it," Cyrus frowned. "Well, anyway, your council ought to know they are trying to cut off their progenitor. And I think that is awfully rude."

  "Even if she was my mother's age and became a vampire, I think the village would want to control her," Peter admitted, as he thought about the Fisher's constant pursuit of knowledge and mastery.

  "Tsk. No. Not really. There wouldn't be a Fisher clan without her. She made you. You owe her. Simple as that." Cyrus held up his hands as he shrugged. "And for that matter, you all owe me."

  "So that's what this is about?" Peter lifted an eyebrow, his wariness of the blaggard vampire reinforced. "Using her to flaunt your own importance?"

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Well, yes, obviously. She's my progeny, and you're hers. In different ways, of course. Don't ever call me grandpa."

  "I won't."

  "Good." Cyrus rose to his feet, stretching his arms with an unnecessary yawn, all for the expression rather than any impetus to oxygenate his blood. "If you had any idea that Rena was some noble outsider, doing all of this for your clan out of altruism, you're wrong. She's doing it out of something as common as motherly love."

  Peter got up to his feet. Although it wasn't the sort of dark secret he had anticipated, it was still food for thought. And he wondered if it really changed the relationship he had with Rena at all. He didn't feel any differently about her. He pondered if perhaps he had felt, deep down, they really were family all along. But why did he have this connection that no one else shared? Even those from Monty's line?

  "Did you hear something?"

  Nel crossed her arms, her cloak wrapped tightly around herself. She didn't have time to get on all the gear necessary to keep warm in the cold night air, but she had no intention of staying out long. She eyed Rena as the female vampire reflected her own posture - arms crossed, and single eyebrow raised.

  "Tell me, Nel. What is the matter?" Rena asked, attempting to sound tender, but failing as her voice came out dry and weary.

  Nel huffed and looked at the woman before her. No. Girl. No. Thing. She was over a century old, and deceptively appeared as a young woman. But her age shone in her dreary brown eyes. "I'm tired of our family being uprooted all because of you."

  "I never said that any of you had to come." Rena did not move, keeping her body language distant and guarded.

  "I know. But Peter... Peter follows you like a lost puppy. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of feeling second place to you," Nel said, her shoulders raised and her voice cracking. When she shivered, she was unsure if it was the cold, or the deep emotions stirring within her.

  Rena stared at her in silence, and Nel turned away. She didn't like that prodding gaze the girl had. She always felt naked and exposed. "I... see..." Rena said quietly. "Nel?"

  "What?"

  "What would you do if you were in my situation? On the other side of someone's jealousy?"

  Nel scoffed, looking up at the moon that hung low in the sky. After a moment, she looked over at Rena, observing that her arms had finally dropped to her sides. Her body language was less closed off as a result.

  "I... I don't know. Maybe leave, and never look back, I suppose. I wouldn't want to come between a happy couple," Nel said scathingly. Rena did not flinch nor sneer. She nodded and dropped her gaze.

  "I've always been supportive of you and Peter's relationship," Rena said sternly, but upon studying Nel's face, her expression softened. "But if you think the only way forward is if I become distant, then we will try that."

  "Try?" Nel asked sharply.

  "Yes. Try," Rena said firmly. Nel rubbed her arms, the cold air slipping past her cloak. "I suppose... if you will be sticking around, we can't entirely avoid each other."

  "I wish we didn't have to, Nel. But if this is how you feel, I doubt anything I say will change that. Only time will." The words hung on the frigid wind like snowflakes on eyelashes. Time. Before her stood someone who had all the time in the world. What did time even mean to an immortal?

  "Well I guess there isn't more to say, then. Not that anything really got resolved. I'm not sure what Peter really expected..." Nel said, feeling uneasy despite getting what she wanted. She wanted Rena to just fade into the background so she could focus on her family, and be the focus of her family. Yet somehow, she had a niggling suspicion that nothing would change. Nel looked over at Rena, but she didn't even seem to be looking at her anymore. The immortal teenager had that distant look in her eye as she stared down the road, head cocked. Of course, there was always something far away that needed her attention.

  "I have to go. Now. Go inside, lock the doors, and don't leave," Rena said, her voice cutting through the air. The urgency in her voice gave Nel goosebumps. She did not question. Not when Rena sounded like that. Danger was near. She quickly went inside, immediately going to where her children slept.

  Urgent howls were rejoined by shrill whistles and shrieks. Growls and yips joined the cacophony as Rena's pack spread out, warning each other and their master of the lurking danger. Through the trees, the barely covered bodies stumbled, lurching and slinking, frostbitten sores along their extremities. But they cared not for the necrotic tissue as they snarled and bared their many sharp teeth. The light. The light. The blood.

  "You heard them?"

  "Damn straight."

  "Prepare yourselves!" Rena called out to the two watchmen at the gate. One steadied a shotgun, the other notched a bow as they focused on the surrounding trees. Naked poplars shivered against the busy lodgepole pines that lay just beyond. Needles shook. Foliage whispered. Rena and Cyrus stood alongside the guards, axes at the ready.

  The first assault. Three creatures burst from the trees, one with long flowing white hair, the other two bald. They charged with reckless abandon towards the gates, lured on by the warmth of humanity. One stumbled as an arrow wedged in its shoulder but didn't stop. The other two whistled their war cry as they closed in.

  BOOM

  Buckshot peppered into the chest of an abomination. Another leapt with great celerity towards one of the guardsmen. He raised his spear and impaled it. It shrieked but did not stop, seizing the shaft.

  "Watch out!" Rena cautioned the fighter who was reloading his shotgun. he ducked out of the way of a wide strike.

  The creature who had been impaled snapped the haft in two, gurgling as blood gushed from the back of its neck. Cyrus swung his axe back and took another blow, severing the monster's head on the second strike. There wasn't time for celebration; the third monster, which had been slowed by the arrow, had arrived. Two more white abominations were running from the tree line.

  "Spread out!" yelled one of the watchmen, and they ran in separate directions. Voices from the other side of the palisades yelled "We'll hold the gate!"

  Rena beheaded her quarry and spun around just in time to catch another one across the chest, sending it flying back.

  The archer abandoned his bow and got out his own axe.

  "I've never seen this many before!" Rena yelled in surprise as more arrived.

  The air became alive with a chorus of unseelie screams. Three of the wolves charged out from the trees, catching hold of a vamp and dragging it down. The vamp snarled and swept at one of the wolves with its claws, but the agile canine moved out of the way. Rigmarole sunk his teeth into the calf of the monster. Hokum reared up and ensnared its arm, pulling it down. Kerfuffle tore out its neck, but still it fought. A loud yelp could be heard as another vamp caught the single malamute with its claws, sending her back, a large gash in her flank.

  Rena howled when she saw one of her pack attacked, bidding them to scatter. Like dust disturbed by a wind, the pack scrambled and fled the scene. Rena fought the urge to charge in after the ghouls, but she held her position. Another vamp down. A watchman fallen. There was nothing that could be done for him - the vamp had sunk its teeth into his throat.

  By now more fighters had climbed up on catwalks on the insides of the defences and were raining flaming arrows down on the stragglers. Rena, Cyrus, and the remaining guard dispatched those which made it through the archers' volleys. The snow was turning into a slurry of bloody slush as the fighting continued.

  "How's your kill count, Rena?" Cyrus called out as a spray of blood painted his face. Another monster dispatched.

  "Wasn't keeping track," Rena called back.

  "I've killed three!" the warrior fighting with them weighed in.

  "That's precious," Cyrus gloated. "Eight!" he bragged as another one went down. "Ni-!" Cyrus staggered back as teeth sunk into his side, tearing through the leather coat. He hollered profanities as he began hacking at the monster aimlessly, taking out chunks until he could push it off. Just as he was lining up to take the killing blow, an axe blade chopped through what remained of the creature's neck and it collapsed into a desiccated pile.

  The guard looked up and beamed. "Four."

  "Good job..." Cyrus muttered begrudgingly. His hand went to his side, looking at the blood leaking out. He swore under his breath and steeled himself. Pain was a luxury he could not afford. He braced himself for the next assault.

  Rena grunted as she cut down one vamp, only for two more to flank her. She gasped as sharp claws dug into her shoulder and she shoved the creature away, only to feel another rake its nails along her back. Her leather vest took most of the damage, leaving only superficial, itchy lacerations on her skin. Rena swung around, dropping her hips as she turned and lowered into a crouch, swinging horizontally across the creature's legs. Porcine squeals issued forth as forcefully as the blood from its leg wound. Using her momentum Rena continued to swing around to the monster she'd pushed away prior, arcing upwards, splitting its chin open. With another decisive blow, Rena finished the vamp off. She heard a shriek and a squelch behind her and spun around. The other monster was bent backwards, a javelin protruding from its chest. Pinned, it was an easy matter to remove its head.

  No more screams. Fire crackled softly, several of the ghoulish corpses burning away rapidly. Rena and the watchman quickly moved out, throwing snow onto the remaining licks of fire, lest they spread to the trees. Cyrus held back, wallowing in the wounds he'd accrued from the fight, cussing in every language he could think of.

  "Is it over?" called a voice from beyond the gate.

  "I think so." Rena tilted her head, listening for her spies. There were no howls from her pack. She cupped her hands over her mouth and howled, until their voices joined hers.

  "It's really creepy when she does that..." muttered the watchman as he held a wound.

  "Did you get bit?" a voice asked as the gates came open.

  "Naw, clawed. But Rufus... Rufus is gone. I'm sorry..." the guard said, his voice choking now that he had time to take it in.

  "We'll need to burn his body as soon as possible," murmured one of the archers.

  Cyrus paused in his complaining long enough to look up and see Rena kneeling in the snow. Laying in front of her was one of her dogs, panting rapidly. A trail of blood led up to her and he could hear her soft whines and whimpers. "She cares more about that dog than me..." he grumbled.

  Cyrus was about to limp into the town when he saw Rena place her hands on either side of her dog's head. Wait. The positioning of her hands. Was she...

  WRENCH

  SNAP

  The dusky malamute spasmed, and then was still. Rena rose slowly from the dead dog, facing away. He could see her forearm wiping at her face. Her eyes, perhaps. She stood there a while longer, shoulders drooped. Then those sagging shoulders rose up, rolled back, and she lifted her chin and spun around. The two wolfdogs bounded over to the body of their mother, nudging her lifeless body with their snouts. After circling her and sniffing and licking, they laid down beside her and emitted forlorn howls.

  Would you consider the action sequence in this chapter easy to follow?