VAMPS: Fresh Blood


 
 Nicole Arend
 Vamps: Fresh Blood
 In Darkness They Shine
 
 
 
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 To Rob
 
 
 1 New Blood
 In a valley high up in the Swiss Alps nestles the tiny village of Arnes. Majestic snow-covered mountains tower over a cluster of wooden buildings and block the low winter sun, rendering it too cold and dark to be a popular ski resort.
 At 5.30 p.m. on the first day of November, it was already pitch black. The soft glow of the street lanterns and the festive lights that garlanded the narrow high street were the only sources of light. The ancient village shop was closed; the white-washed church cold and empty. The faded green shutters that adorned each chalet were shut tight. Despite their jolly Christmas wreaths, every front door was barred shut.
 Not a soul was to be seen. A thick layer of snow blanketed the entire village, and the silence was heavy. Even the soft spray of the waterfall, normally flowing down the east side of the mountain, was still – temporarily frozen in time.
 The throaty roar of a powerful engine broke the stillness and, seconds later, a bright red Lamborghini Urus raced over icy cobbles and skidded to a stop in the town square. The passenger door opened, and a willowy girl stepped out. Ice-blonde hair fell in an immaculate, glossy sheet down her back. She was dressed expensively in skin-tight white jeans, a thick faux-fur gilet and matching knee-high boots.
 Glancing up the high street with piercing ice-blue eyes, she exclaimed, ‘Is this really it?’
 A tall, handsome man, who didn’t look old enough to be her father, stepped out of the other side.
 ‘What did you expect, Celeste?’ he growled. ‘I warned you.’
 ‘I was thinking of something quaint but sophisticated – like Gstaad.’
 ‘Far too busy,’ replied her father. ‘Given our special requirements, this place is perfect.’
 
 Some distance away, Dillon Halloran was uncomfortably aware that they were almost at their destination. A light sweat broke out across his forehead. He and his father, Gabriel, had travelled up the narrow valley in a sled pulled by eight huskies. Six kilometres out, one of the dogs had broken her harness, but despite Dillon’s efforts, it hadn’t sabotaged their journey; it only delayed them by half an hour.
 Now, at the far edge of the village, long before the street lanterns began, the dogs began to slow, then halt completely, forcing Gabriel to brake the sled hard. The pack stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant village, and then, collectively, they let out a long low howl. Dillon leaned into his father, pointing at the agitated huskies.
 ‘That’s weird, Da. It’s like they know there’s something not right up there.’
 Gabriel knew animals, and he knew to trust their instincts. There was a sense of unease in the air, and Dillon saw him fight back the desire to turn the dogs around and escape as fast as he could back down the mountain.
 As the steam from the animals’ nostrils rose in clouds around them, Dillon turned to Gabriel and pleaded, ‘I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me.’
 Gabriel sighed, ‘Dillon, we have been through this. I promised your mother that as soon as you turned eighteen…’
 ‘What makes you so desperate to keep a promise to a woman who didn’t even care enough to stick around for us, Da?’
 ‘I told you – it’s complicated. She left to protect you, and I must uphold my promise to her.’
 Dillon scowled. ‘Protect me? Protect me from what exactly?’
 ‘This is why you need to go. You need to learn about yourself and the world your mother comes from.’
 Dillon shook his head angrily. ‘She wasn’t interested in my world – why should I care about hers?’
 ‘You can’t change who you are. Look, there is no time to talk now. You are already late.’
 ‘C’mon, Da, none of this makes any sense. Can we not just turn back and go home?’
 Gabriel said nothing but hugged Dillon tight.
 ‘I’ve kept you safe all your life, son. But I can’t do that anymore. And I think deep down you already know that.’ Gabriel glanced at his watch again. ‘You’ve got to go. You need to learn about yourself. But remember Dillon –’ Gabriel pointed to his chest, thumping his heart as he spoke – ‘This – this is what makes us who we are.’
 As he pulled Dillon close, he slid an antique chain over his head. The strange fiery stone at the centre of the triangle-shaped pendant glimmered as it caught the moonlight.
 ‘Wear this with pride, son. It means a lot to me. It was your ma’s, but she wanted me to give it to you. Keep it on always and no matter what happens up there, never…’ He broke off and cleared his throat. ‘Never ever lose heart.’
 There was no time to examine the chain now. Struggling to hold back his emotion, Dillon tucked it under the neck of his jumper and felt it heavy on his chest, just above his heart. After one final hug, he wrenched himself away from his father. Strapping on the snowshoes Gabriel had made for him back in Ireland, his eyes blurred. He blinked furiously and began to plunge across the snow, not trusting himself to look back. After a pause, he heard his father whistle to the dogs and then their excited yelps as the sled turned and headed back the way they had