White Witch, Black Curse

He jumped at the vampire. The man stumbled, arms raised and almost helpless from the shock of the attack. Kisten's fangs flashed, still short for an undead, but they were enough.

"No!" the vampire screamed, and Kisten's teeth sank into his neck. I stared, pressed into the wide windows as Kisten's killer jammed a palm into Kisten's chin. I heard a sickening snap, and Kisten fell.

He hit the floor, convulsing before he even found the carpet. The other vampire clutched his neck and stomach as he staggered to the door. I heard him stumble down the hall, fleeing as he fell into dry heaves. The boat rocked, and I heard a splash.

"Kisten!" I dropped down beside him, dragging his head up into my lap. The convulsions slowed, and I wiped his face with my hands. His mouth was red with blood, but it wasn't his, it was his killer's, and now they both would die. Nothing could save him. The undead couldn't feed upon each other. The virus attacked itself, and both would die.

"Kisten, no," I sobbed. "Don't do this to me! Kisten, you sweet idiot, look at me!"

His eyes opened, and I stared, breathless, into their precious blue depths. The haze of death quavered, and cleared. My chest clenched as I saw a moment of lucidity return to him, as he teetered on his final, true death.

"Don't cry," he said, his hand touching my cheek as he looked up, and it was Kisten. He was himself, and he remembered why he loved. "I'm sorry. I'm going to die, and so will that fucking bastard if I got enough of my saliva into him. He won't be able to harm you or Ivy."

Ivy. This was going to destroy her. "Kisten, please don't leave me," I said, my tears spotting his face. His hand fell from my cheek, and I grabbed it, holding it to me.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, his eyes closing as he took a breath. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You should have left with me, you dummy," I sobbed. His skin was hot to the touch, and he convulsed once and took a rasping breath. I couldn't stop it. He was dying in my arms, and I couldn't stop it.

"Yeah," he whispered, his finger twitching against my jaw where I held it. "Sorry."

"Kisten, please don't leave me," I begged, and his eyes opened.

"I'm cold," he said, fear rising in his blue eyes.

I held him tighter. "I'm holding you. It's going to be okay."

"Tell Ivy," he said with a gasp, clenching in on himself. "Tell Ivy that it wasn't her fault. And tell her that at the end…you remember love. I don't think…we lose our souls…at all. I think God keeps them for us until we…come home. I love you, Rachel."

"I love you, too, Kisten," I sobbed, and as I watched, his eyes, memorizing my face, silvered, and he died.

Thirty-two

Somewhere I could hear Mia and Holly, each screaming different lyrics to the same song of frustrated anger and loss, the smooth rhythm of the FIB's Miranda serving as a background chorus. My eyes opened, and it took me a moment to focus on the moving patterns of light playing over the ugly cement walls and ceilings. The tight chatter of two-ways was loud, and the room was echoing, Mia's tirade and Holly's unhappy complaints being the least of the noise.

I bolted upright, going dizzy when I clutched the blue FIB blanket draped over me. People were everywhere, ignoring me, flashing their lights up and down the tunnel, pointing their weapons at Mia as they read her her rights. She was being led away by I.S. agents, and Ford was standing across the room with Holly. The little girl wasn't happy, but Ford was holding her with impunity. His expression was pained for his part in separating mother and child, but with him able to touch Holly, The Walker wouldn't have her.

Beside me on the cold cement floor, like an offering, was my splat gun. My eyes widened as I saw it, and a second wave of vertigo took me as I remembered. Oh God. Kisten's dead.

Bile rose, and I fell into dry heaves. I tried to rise but never made it up, too dizzy to get off my hands and knees when I rolled over to try to stand. No one noticed me, fascinated by Mia's threats and struggles as she was pulled up the stairway like a wet wildcat, four undead vampires holding her leash, two before, two behind, so she couldn't touch anyone. Their policy of ignoring her had shifted, forced by the FIB to take action.

Staring past my stringy hair at the filthy floor, I struggled to breathe, to work the memory of Kisten's death into my existence, but it hurt like a broken knife across my soul. Ah, crap. I'm crying now. I looked at my hand, half expecting to see it pulped and bruised, but only Al's cut was there.

"Holly!" Mia wailed as if giving my grief voice, and I looked past my lank hair at her, shocked by the fear coming from the woman. We were all having a fabulous New Year.

Ford's words rose above Holly's soft crying, stilling the woman's struggles. "Your daughter is beautiful, Ms. Harbor," he said, easily containing the little girl's struggles, and the vampires pulling at her paused. "I will protect her with my life."