Arson and Claire - Vamp-peers

Chapter Nineteen

 Our eyes are trained silently on the letter that lays between us on the chaise, the air thick with anticipation. The candles speak softly to us, and I hazard a glance up to study Aldon's face as he stares down at the off-white envelope. He wets his lips, voice low,

"You said they took you to their camp?"

"Yes," I say softly. "Atlas took advantage of... of my panic attack, and had me walk back with them. They told me about where they came from, and how they've been abused by humans and vampires."

"And me," he sighs. "Hazel told you more about me?"

"Yeah," the candlelight flickers. "Is that...?" I gesture to the spot of blood on the envelope. Aldon picks it up and runs his fingers along it, streaking his fingers with the not-quite-dry redness. He raises his fingers to his face, wafting the scent. His pupils shrink quickly and he recoils from his own hand, holding it far away from himself; I take his hand and wipe it clean with a tissue from the coffee table.

"Yep," he exhales, "that's Hazel."

"That's..." I toss the tissue into the fireplace and fish my hand sanitiser out of my stay-over bag, "surprisingly cruel."

"It's a smart tactic," he grimaces, "Getting into my head like that." he rubs his hands together, shoulders falling as the smell of alcohol overtakes the smell of blood. "Now. I'm going to go ahead and read this, how about you head to bed?"

"It's nearly dawn," I point out. "If I go back to bed I won't be up 'til afternoon. You just want me gone because you push people away when you're stressed,"

He gives me a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly as he drags his thumb under the flap to open it. "Must be hereditary." He pulls the letter out, slipping his glasses on and scanning it quickly.

I watch his face for any clues it might give me, but he's stoic as stone, eyes following the words with no reaction whatsoever. He seems to finish, then glances at the back of the paper, then looks inside the envelope, and sighs.

"Well?" I prompt.

"Well," he folds the letter back, removing his glasses. "We were right. They want me."

"Obviously," I say before I can bite my tongue. Aldon, to my surprise, lets out a soft laugh - albeit a dry, humorless one. His tone is calm and calculating,

"They say, in two days, they'll be at the train tracks - the first place you saw most of them. They'll give me until three o'clock to get there and hand myself over, and if I'm not there, they're going to start killing."

I know the answer before I even ask, "killing?"

"Everyone," he puts the envelope down. "Everyone in town."

The silence pushes down on us, hard, before I say quietly,

"Then we'll just have to fight back."

Aldon sighs, "Arson–"

"No, don't Arson me," I stand. "They want you? Fine. They better drive a stake through me,"

"This isn't your concern," he says, "I made the mistake all that time ago, I need to pay for it,"

"They made it my concern when they threatened me, Claire, and Jackson, when they killed Mr. Hill. You made a mistake. You made a lot of mistakes. But they came after us, too." I take a breath, "And when I got in trouble with the council, you uprooted your life to keep me safe."

"You're not coming with me. You could be killed," his eyes reflect the shine of almost-tears, and my heart clenches with it.

"I'll take me maybe dying over you definitely dying. Besides, even if you go, even if you die here, they won't stop. They're going to keep going, going after all the other Bloodbornes and Full Bloods and anyone else they deem inferior." I stab the envelope with my forefinger, feeling dampness seep under my nail. "This stops here."