A Dance at Midnight

we're stuck together

-

Senar, with Henry at her heels, ran out to the front of the house. The other vampires had already congregated by the lilac bushes; they shouted and cursed loudly, and some even wailed. 

"What is going on here?" No one heard her. She caught Henry's expression: his brows were furrowed, and his jaw was clenched. "What is it?" she asked him. 

She saw him swallow. "I didn't know," he said. 

Senar left him standing there and pushed her way through the crowd. As soon as she broke through, her breathing stopped. She dropped to her knees. 

Donator Elias lay in the bushes. His left arm was twisted. His eyes were closed. Droplets of blood oozed out of the lances in his forehead and cheek. 

Her heart gave a sharp pang. She peered up. The second, third, and fourth-floor balconies were empty. Judging by his injuries, and the fact that she could hear his faint heartbeat, he had had a fall but not a steep one, which meant he most likely fell from the second floor. 

"I turned around, and the next thing I knew, he was gone. When I looked over, I saw him in the bushes; he'd fallen, and I hadn't been there to save him..."

Adrian sat on the front steps of the house, his head in his hands. His eyes were watery, and tear streaks stained his cheeks. His hair was a mess as if he'd run his hands through it over and over again. Giana sat beside him, rubbing circles on his back. On his other side was Mistress Heather; the young vampire pouted and whimpered for Adrian. 

I won't let you die...That's a promise, his words echoed in Senar's head. 

She let out a disbelieving huff. He'd pushed a donator, nearly killing him, so Senar wouldn't have to fight because he knew that if something happened to any of the donatori here, everything else would take second place.

She clenched her hands into fists. This was her fault. Again. Adrian may have pushed Elias, but if she hadn't been bloodwoken...If she hadn't allowed for them to take a break...

With some effort, she swallowed down her scream. The Bleeder continued to cry. Even worse, he wasn't very good at it. 

Henry joined her at the front of the crowd. "Take him to my room," she said. Henry didn't move. "What now?" And Henry, she was annoyed at him: he could've told her. He didn't know. She sighed. "Sorry," she said. "What is it?"

"No need to apologize," he said. His green eyes flicked to the vampires circled around them. "It's just, there may not be enough space, Senar." He spoke his words purposefully as if he were trying to tell her something but couldn't in their current company. 

She understood: the donatora was already in Senar's room. Evangeline had been turned yesterday, and she remained asleep. Putting Elias with her, a new vampire who may not be able to control her thirst, might be dangerous. Henry was right: Senar couldn't risk it. 

"Take him to one of the empty rooms near mine," she said.

Henry nodded. He walked over to the fallen donator. He lifted him and began the climb up the stairs. Meanwhile, Senar turned to the tormented vampires. "Everyone," she said, "I know this has been traumatic, but please, panicking will get us nowhere. The fight has been called off. My staff will tend to Elias, and while we do so, please come inside and have a drink."

She had thought they would argue with her, but surprisingly, they didn't; the shock of the near-death of the donator rendered them pliant. As they moved toward the entrance of the mansion, they squeezed her arm and offered words of consolation.