"Camila?"
She exhaled slowly, scared to speak. "...I thought you were dead."
"Undead, actually. It's a common mistake."
She let out a choked laugh. Her legs felt wobbly, like a newborn deer, and she had to lean against the sink to keep herself upright. "...I'm really glad you're alive, Alex."
"Of course you are. I'm great." Then, softer, he asked, "How are you doing?"
"Okay. A little banged up." Camila looked at herself in the mirror. Black hair hung limply down her back. Her brown skin was abnormally pale, no doubt from the blood loss, and heavy shadows lurked under her eyes. "It's been a rough couple days."
"Your parents?"
"I don't know. Declan says they're probably dead. It hasn't really sunk in yet, I don't think." She tried to picture her mother—grey-black hair, shark cheekbones, sparkling brown eyes—but the image felt clouded. Maybe it was already fading. "How have you been?"
"Oh, fine. I've been hiding out at a friend's place until the vampires quit murdering guards. Mostly, I've just been worried about you."
"Well, I'm fantastic too, so..." Her voice trailed off.
"You are," he said sincerely.
"Oh..." Her lips twitched into a halfhearted grin. "I don't know Alex."
"I do. And if I could pick one person to get out of that palace alive, I'd pick you every time."
"Well- Thank you." Who would she save, her father or her mother? Camila sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We need to make a plan."
"Camila- there's something you should know." The words were slow, like he was forcing them out. Camila got the sense that whatever news he had, it wasn't good.
"Yeah?"
"Your brother's dead."
The phone shivered in her grasp. Camila tightened her grip, knuckles paling. "What?"
"Hiking accident."
"Foul play?"
"I don't know. It's a possibility."
Camila took a second, trying to process it. The last time she saw her brother was months ago, almost a full year prior. He'd given her a big hug and whispered in her ear not to get into too much trouble while he was gone. Camila tried to remember what she'd said in response—the memory was blurry, fuzzy at the edges—and finally gave up.
"Camila?" Alex asked, his voice soft.
"I- I'm still here."
"I don't want to rush you, but... You know what this means, right?"
Camila pressed her palms against the cold marble counter. She closed her eyes, but all she could think about was her brother. He was only twenty two, with a lust for adventure and a big heart. He used to bring her souvenirs after every trip: cheap snow globes and key chains that still rested on a white shelf by her bed. "It means... Fuck. Whoever marries me becomes king."
"Right. If the vampires weren't after you before, they definitely are now. I'd also be careful about contacting any local packs, particularly if you don't know them."
"Will do." A tear rolled down her cheek. Camila scrubbed a frustrated hand across her face.
"You can do this."
"I don't know if I can, Alex."
"You can." He sounded completely certain. "You're strong. Stubborn. And I'm here whenever you need me."
Camila paced back and forth, tennis shoes squeaking on the tiled floor. "I don't suppose you're near Manaus?"
"I can get there, yeah. Is that where you are?"
There was a tap on the door.
"You almost done in there?" Rosa sung, her voice saccharine sweet. "You climb out the window or something?"
"Just another second!" Camila yelled, moving to stand in front of the door, ready to hold it shut if Rosa tried to barge in.
"Alright!"
Rosa's heels clicked against the floor, the sound fading as she walked away. The truck had to be full of gas by now; it wouldn't be long before Declan came searching for her.
Camila dropped her voice to a whisper. "We need a plan."
"Tell me where you are. I'll come get you."
Camila hesitated. "I don't think you can. The two of us against Declan... I think he might win. We need an actual plan."
"Declan?"
"Yeah, that's his name." Camila glanced at the door again. Silence hung in the air. She wanted to hear something, to have some clue whether Declan's outside or not.
"You know-" He sighed. Camila pictured his eyebrows furrowed, his lips set in a worried line. "Declan's in charge of the Vindicators."
"What?" she hissed.
"Gwen, the friend I'm staying with, is a witch. She found out when we were scrying for you. Just- Be careful, okay?"
"That doesn't change anything. I think I've got an idea." Camila whispered her plan into the phone, an eye glued to the closed door.
Alex was silent for a moment. Then, his voice hesitant and quiet, he asked, "...Are you sure?"
"Certain. You don't have a better idea, do you?"
"No, I just- I don't want you to have to-"
Camila tapped her foot, ready to move. "Do you have a better plan? Because if not, I think we should go with this."
She heard the faint buzz of conversation. Someone knocked on the bathroom door hard enough to rattle the hinges.
"Alex. Please."
Outside the door, she heard hushed voices. She heard the familiar low rumble of Declan's voice.
"Fine," Alex sighed. "I'll do it. But be careful."
"You too. I have to go."
The red hang up button seemed to laugh at her, mocking her hesitation. Camila clenched her jaw, readied herself, and ended the call. She jumped away from the door.
The door flew open, the handle slamming into the wall and leaving a circular hollow in the plaster. On one side of the hallway was Rosa. She leaned casually against the wall, a slight smirk on her bright pink lips. The pimply cashier stood on the other side, hands shoved in his pockets, looking anywhere but at Camila. Declan stood in between them.
His blue t-shirt stretched over his shoulders, outlining the muscles of his chest and arms. Messy black hair dangled over his eyes—she had the sudden, irrational urge to push it aside. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark and angry. He stepped forward.
"How's Alex?" he asked.
You're the best! Thank you for reading!
Sending you lots of love and chocolates!
-Harley