The Vampire Christopher (6 page)

“Yes,” I whispered, trying to gauge from his expression how bad off I was.

Tenderly, he turned me
. I moved my arms upward so that I could rest my chin on my hands. He’d laid me in some mossy grass. Runnin
g my fingers over it, I was amazed
at how soft it felt. In front of me sat a small, brown cottage, built of wooden logs. The front door was closed. A medium-sized pane glassed window sat on either side of it. The roof looked to be made of tree branches, and
steepled
along
the top
, so it looked like an upside down V. On either side of the cottage was lush forest, filled with trees, ferns, and colorful flowers. I could hear the rush of a stream nearby, and guessed he must’ve brought me to the other realm.

“I’m going to check the b
ack’s of your thighs. Y
ou felt a sting behind your knees?”

“Yes, I did.”
Had I told him about the stinging sensation right before I fell? I didn’t think so.

After several moments, I heard him suck in a breath.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to turn my head so that I could see him.

One of his large, tanned ha
nds appeared. He pinched
something between his thumb and first finger. I squinted,
seeing nothing,
but suddenly my eyes adjusted, like the lens on a microscope, and I saw it.
A tiny arr
ow, no bigger than a sliver
.
“What. Is. That?”

“
It’s
a pixie’s arrow. T
he tip has been dipped in toxin
. I need
to make a poultic
e to draw out the poison
.
The ingredients are nearby, but I’ll be out of sight.”

“Don’t go,” I cried.

He ran his hands through my wet hair. “
You’ll be safe here. Only a creature whose heart is pure can pass through the enchantments I’ve put
in place.” He came around so that I could see him.
“You’ll be fine,” he
added
.

“Where are we?” I asked
, changing the subject, trying to keep him with me
.

Christopher’s
eyebrows furrowed
in a way I was beginning to understand meant he
was
anxious
.

“We are in Sharra, the realm of the Vampire Queen.” He quickly kissed the tip of my nose, and
rushed
away.

“
Hurry,” I
called after him
, softly.
I turned my head, resting my
uninjured cheek
on my hands. He’d answered one of my questions. The name of this place was Sharra.

“Sharra,” I mouthed. Then said it again a little louder. “Sharra.” I liked the sound of it.

One question down, one hundred twenty-three more to go, I thought with a sigh as I stared into the forest. A beautiful bush, filled
with all different pastel colored
flowers
grew
directly in my line of vision. The leaves seemed to
be moving
. I took a deep, cleansing
breath;
knowing Chace would do all in his power to fix me up.

How do you know, my
inner voice asked, with a growl?

I thought about it. He was my Hunter, which meant he had to keep my body safe at all costs. It wouldn’t do
if I died
.

“He will come back,” I whispered.

I continued to watch the bush,
and
something strange happened.
The flowers
separated, and began to
flutter upward, like butterflies
taking
flight. It was beautiful. Once
all of the flower
s
left the bush, the branches looked stark, empty, like a barren tree in the deep of winter. Alarmed, I wondered why
they’d
abandoned it
. The petals continued rising
, and
headed
toward me. Surprised, I
tilted my head, to continue
watching
.
A bubble-gum pink f
lower
fell onto my arm. I shook it
, trying to
get
it
to
drop
, but it wouldn’t budge
. Then a periwinkle blue flower landed further down my arm,
near my elbow,
followed by a mint green one. I peered closer, and the flowers moved. Under the petals were little bodies
attached to little heads
.

Surprised, I gasped, and
shook
my arm wildly. T
he creatures
stayed in place, their little arms and legs tickling my skin. Finally I gave up.

Chapter 6

“W
hat do you want?” I whispered.

There was a slight tinkling sound
, and I peered
closer. There were two females, and one male, their bodies the color of
the
petals,
or I guessed, their wings,
and they were dressed in matching cl
othes. Both girls wore
shimmering dresses, and the guy
wore
pants, and a shirt.

“You look like Peter Pan,” I said. He placed his hands on his hips, also reminding me of Peter Pan, and I laughed.
“What are you? Fairies?” I asked, as
the
girl in bubble-gum pink flew over
and landed on my nose.

She shook her tiny finger at me, and said, in a high, barely audible voice, “We’re pixilettes.”

“
P
ixil
…
ette
s
,” I repeated
.

“That’s right. We’re in charge of the changing seasons in Sharra, as well as reseeding in the
Spring
and the Fall.” She bowed, placing one hand over her chest, and the other out behind her. “I’m Arianna.” The periwinkle
,
and mint
colored
pixilettes fluttered onto my nose next to her. My eyes started to cross. And the tinkling
sounded again. The male slapped
his knee.

“What? Are-are you laughing at me?” I asked, trying to be upset, but they were too cute.

The male bowed. “Apologies. My name i
s Eon.”

“And I am Pava.”

“Nice to meet you. My name is Snow.” I stacked one fist on top of the other, and rested my chin, working desperately not to shake my head, and uncross my eyes.

Seemingly all at once, hundreds of pixilettes hovered behind the three I’d met.

Pava turned her toes in, and said
timidly
, “We’d like to
help
you
.
Would that be alright?”

“You know what’s wrong with me?” I asked, stunned.

“We do. And between all of us, we have enough to r
everse the effects of the poison
,” Eon said.

“I’d be most grateful. Thank you!”
The three pixilettes on my nose flew off, and backward. With relief I closed my eyes, giving them a chance to
realign.
Opening them, I said,
“Chace, the guy that was here with me
…
he left,” I suck
ed in a sad breath, “to get
ingredients
for a poultice
. Should someone tell him?”

“He is known as Christopher in Sharra,” Eon said, turning, and flicking his arm.
The way he moved made me think that he might be someone of great importance.

Three pixilettes flew off in the direction Chace aka Christopher aka my Hunter had gone.

“Right,” I agreed
, feeling tears prick the back’s of my eyes
.
I was so new to all of this. My life had shifted radically in the last few days,
and I felt overwhelmed. I
nches from my nose fluttered little
creature
s with bodies
the size of a moth, and
the one known as Eon
criticized me. Until a few minutes a
go, I hadn’t
known they existed.

Arianna’s pointy features
softened. She flew over, and lifted a tear from my lashes, balan
cing it in her hand. She placed
her other hand on my forehead,
and patted.
“Hold very still,
and keep your eyes closed
u
ntil I tell you,” Arianna said, kindly.

I bit my cheek. Christopher told me nothing could
pass through the enchantments
unless they
had a pure heart.
That meant these
pixilettes
wouldn’t hurt me
, didn’t it
?

You are way to
o
trusting, my inner voice seethed.

I nodded
at Arianna
, and closed my eyes.

For what seemed
like
hours,
I couldn’t feel anything, only heard the
occasional
tinkling, which I
now
knew was
the
pixilettes
laughing. I also smelled oregano.

They are seasoning you, and intend to eat you for dinner, my inner voice scolded.

S
ensitivity
started to come back into my legs. It felt like pins and needles were doing a
tap dance
on my thighs. I wanted to rub them, or shake them,
anything
to get r
id of the pain, but Arianna
told me to hold still. Gri
tting my t
e
eth, I held steady, and my mind drifted.

“Ch
ristopher Charming, get in here!
”
The voice
sounded
muffled.

I looked down at myself, and saw I was
transparent
, like mist. Reaching out to touch my arm,
my fingers went right through me. Gasping, I swung in a circle, trying to figure out where I
’d gone
.

I stood in a garage, which I guessed meant I was no longer in Sharra. At least
that’s what I believed from everything I’d seen of Sharra
so far.

The garage door looked rusty, and
unused.
The room
was cluttered with
boxes
stacked to the grungy ceiling
, a couch covered in a dusty sheet, and other odds and ends. The walls were aluminum, and rippled
. On
one
wall hung a
pegboard
with tools,
including
hammers, a handsaw, drills, and more.
Piles of different sized wood rested against the garage door, and lay on the concrete floor next to s
trange-
looking
steely
machines
.

Sitting at one of the machines cutting a small
piece of wood was Christopher, wearing
a striped shirt with a wi
de collar
and brown corduroy pants that belled out at the bottom.

“Charming,” I called out, my voice hesitant.

He didn’t acknowledge me, but then he hadn’t acknowledged the woman who’d yelled at him a moment ago either.

“I’m going to count to three, and
then I’ll add on to your chores,” the muffled female voice
hollered
.

Christopher
groaned
. “Fine,” he grumbled. Tucking whatever
he worked
on in his pocket, he started to walk toward me.

“Christopher,” I whispered.

He
didn’t stop, but
went
right through me. Freaky!
I
didn’t feel
a thing.

I turned and watched him open a warped brown door, and go through.

“What?” I heard him
call before he slammed it
.

You died, you idiot, my inner voice
howled
.

Shut it! I
screeched
.

“What am I doing here?” I slowly spun in a circle, searching for answers.

Follow Christopher, ding-dong.

My inner voice was really starting to grate on my nerves, but I obeyed. Stepping up to the door, I tried to wrap a hand around the knob, but I couldn’t grab it.