And underneath it all, desperate love for a child who couldn’t tell him what she needed.

You really think I can help her? I think you’re the only one who can see what she’s feeling.

The therapists, they try, but they’re working blind.

You could see if she’s afraid or sad or angry.

You could help her communicate when words fail.

That’s a lot of pressure to put on a waitress with a weird neurological condition.

I know.

His hand moved, almost touched hers, then stopped.

I’m asking anyway because I’m out of options and my daughter is disappearing into silence and I would give anything, risk anything to bring her back.

The gold in his colors flared.

True desperation.

True love.

Maya took a breath.

If I do this, if I try, there are rules.

I’m not, she gestured vaguely.

I’m not interested in the vampire thing, in being food or a pet or whatever.

You’re a person, Mata said firmly.

You’ll be treated as such.

Anyone who suggests otherwise will answer to me.

And the money, 5,000 a week if you commute, 10 if you live here, paid regardless of results.

You’re not obligated to stay if it doesn’t work.

She should still say no.

Should walk out and forget any of this happened.

but $10,000 a week and a little girl who needed help and a father whose colors showed nothing but genuine love and desperation.

I want to meet her first, Maya said.

Before I decide anything, I want to meet Sarah.

Relief flooded Matias’s face, turning his colors momentarily bright.

Of course, she’s in her playroom.

Follow me.

He stood, offering his hand.

Maya took it.

His skin was cool, but not cold, solid, real.

He led her back through the hallways, up a grand staircase, down another corridor lined with portraits of severe looking people who all shared Matias’s sharp features.

The playroom was at the end of the hall, behind a door painted soft blue.

Matias knocked gently.

Sarah, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.

No answer.

He opened the door.

The playroom was large and bright, full of toys that looked expensive and barely touched.

And in the corner, curled up in a window seat with a book, was the smallest child Maya had ever seen.

Sarah Blackwell was tiny for six with her father’s dark hair and eyes that were too old for her face.

She wore a purple dress and white tights, and she didn’t look up when they entered.

But Maya saw her colors.

Oh.

The words slipped out before she could stop it.

Because Sarah’s colors were like nothing Maya had ever seen.

They shifted constantly, swirling through the spectrum so fast it was dizzying.

Fear and confusion and grief and anger and love all tangled together in a not so complex Maya couldn’t tell where one emotion ended and another began.

This child was drowning in feelings she couldn’t express.

“Sarah,” Mafia said softly.

“This is Maya.

She’s going to visit with us for a while.

” The girl still didn’t look up, but her colors spiked red.

“Fear.

” Maya knelt slowly, keeping distance between them.

She pulled a pen and paper from her purse, the same pen she’d used to write her number on a napkin.

“Can you see colors around people?” She wrote it large.

Clear.

Held it up.

Sarah’s head lifted just slightly.

Maya wrote again.

I can.

I see them around you right now.

You’re feeling a lot of things all at once.

Sarah’s eyes met hers for the first time.

They were dark and deep and full of question.

Maya smiled.

Wrote one more line.

I see you, all of you.

and I’m going to help you show your dad what you need.

The colors around Sarah shifted.

The red faded soft blue appeared, hesitant and fragile.

Hope.

The little girl unccurled from the window seat, took three careful steps forward, and placed her small hand in Maya’s palm.

Behind them, Matias made a sound.

When Mia looked back, his colors were blazing gold, so bright it hurt to see.

It was the first time Sarah had touched anyone voluntarily in 3 months.

Mia moved into the Blackwell mansion on a rainy Tuesday with one suitcase, and a growing sense of unreality.

Helena showed her to a bedroom that was bigger than her entire apartment, private bathroom, walk-in closet, windows overlooking gardens that probably required a full-time staff to maintain.

This is too much, Maya said, staring at the four poster bed with its silk canopy.

It’s what we have available.

Helena’s tone suggested the discussion was over.

Dinner is at 7.

His majesty and Miss Sarah dine in the small dining room.

You’re expected to join them.

It wasn’t a request.

The small dining room could have fit 50 people comfortably.

Matha sat at one end of a table long enough to play tennis on.

Sarah beside him in a chair with a cushion to boost her height.

They’d left a place sitting directly across from Sarah.

For Maya.

Thank you for joining us, Mata said as a servant pulled out her chair.

He wore a dark suit that probably cost more than her car.

Sarah needs routine.

Meals together are important.

Sarah watched Maya with those two old eyes.

Her colors a careful neutral blue.

testing, waiting to see if Maya would stay.

Maya sat.

A plate appeared in front of her.

Food arranged so artfully it seemed criminal to eat it.

So she said, because someone had to break the silence.

Do you actually eat or is this just for show? Matias’s lips twitched.

We eat.

We don’t need to as frequently as humans, but we enjoy it.

The food helps us seem normal.

Nothing about this is normal, Maya said.

She looked at Sarah.

Your dad is a vampire king.

You’re a vampire princess.

And I’m a waitress who sees emotions as colors.

We’re probably the least normal family dinner in the city.

Sarah’s colors sparked.

A flash of gold.

Amusement.

The little girl’s mouth curved just slightly.

Not quite a smile, but close.

It was enough.

Over the next week, Maya learned the rules of living in a vampire house.

Don’t go into the West Wing after dark.

Don’t ask questions about the locked basement.

Don’t be surprised when people appear and disappear with supernatural speed.

And most importantly, don’t mention blood.

They fed from donors who came willingly, Matus explained.

Compensated handsomely, carefully screamed.

Nothing like the myths.

Maya tried not to think about it too hard.

She focused on Sarah instead.

Every day she sat with the little girl in the playroom.

She brought colored pencils and paper, and together they drew feelings.

Red for angry, blue for sad, yellow for happy, green for scared.

Slowly, painstakingly, Sarah began to communicate.

She drew a picture of a woman with golden hair, pointed to herself, then the woman, then drew a big black scribble over the woman’s face.

“Your mom,” Maya said gently.

“You miss your mom.

” Sarah nodded.

Drew more.

the woman lying down, flowers around her, people in black, herself, standing far away, alone, surrounded by dark blue and gray.

You felt alone at the funeral, Maya translated, like no one saw how sad you were.

Another nod.

More tears.

Maya pulled the child into her arms.

Sarah stiffened, then slowly, carefully, relaxed.

Her colors shifted from dark blue to soft purple.

comfort being held.

“I see you,” Maya whispered.

“I see how much it hurts.

” That evening, Maya showed Matitheus the drawings.

He stared at them for a long time, his colors cycling through pain and guilt and grief.

“I didn’t know,” he said finally.

At the funeral, she seemed so calm.

“I thought I thought she was handling it better than I was.

She was six,” Maya said gently.

She didn’t know how to show you what she felt, so she stopped showing anything at all.

His hands clenched on the table.

I failed her.

You didn’t know.

You were grieving, too.

I should have seen.

You’re seeing now.

Maya touched his hand briefly.

That’s what matters.

She’s starting to communicate.

It’s slow, but we’re making progress.

What does she need from me? Be there, Maya said.

Not just physically, emotionally.

Show her what you feel.

She needs to know it’s safe to have big emotions.

Over the following weeks, Maya watched Matias transform.

He started sitting on the floor with Sarah during their color sessions.

Started drawing his own feelings.

Black for grief, red for frustration, gold for love.

So much love.

Sarah watched her father draw himself as a dark figure surrounded by storms and her small hand reached out to add yellow sun to his picture.

“You make me happy, too,” he signed.

He’d been learning sign language just in case Sarah preferred hands to pictures.

She touched his drawing, then drew herself.

Added the same yellow sun.

“We’re both sad,” Maya translated.

“But we make each other happy, too.

” Mattheus picked up his daughter and held her like she might disappear.

His colors were so bright Maya had to look away.

“Thank you,” he said to Maya over Sarah’s head.

“Thank you for giving her back to me.

I didn’t do anything.

You saw her.

” He met her eyes.

“That’s everything.

” But their peaceful progress shattered on a cold November night.

Maya woke to screaming.

She ran down the hallway in her pajamas, following the sound to Sarah’s room.

The little girl was sitting up in bed, shrieking without words.

Her colors a violent tornado of red and black and sickly green.

Terror.

Mtheus was already there trying to calm her, but his touch only made her scream louder.

“She’s afraid of you,” Maya realized, seeing the colors spike when he reached for her.

Something scared her.

And now she’s afraid.

Matha stepped back, anguish clear on his face.

Maya approached the bed slowly.

Sarah, sweetie, I’m here.

Can you show me what’s wrong? The screaming cut off.

Sarah launched herself at Maya, small arms wrapping tight around her neck.

Maya held her, feeling the child’s heart race like a trapped bird.

What frightened you? But Sarah was looking past Maya at the window.

Maya turned, saw nothing, just darkness and rain.

Then a flash of lightning illuminated a face pressed against the glass.

Pale fangs bared, eyes glowing red.

Maya’s scream joined Sarah’s.

Matias moved faster than thought.

He was at the window, wrenching it open, disappearing into the night.

Sounds of a struggle outside.

Crashes.

A inhuman shriek cut short.

Then silence.

Maya held Sarah tighter.

Both of them shaking.

Don’t look, she whispered.

Don’t look outside.

Matias returned through the window, rain dripping from his hair.

There was blood on his collar.

His colors were pure rage.

Red and black and violent.

Gone, he said.

They won’t come back.

Who? Maya demanded.

What was that? He looked at Sarah, then Maya.

Not here, not in front of her.

But later, after Sarah finally fell asleep between them on her bed, and the sun started rising, Matus told Maya the truth.

There are vampires who don’t follow my rules, who think humans are prey, not people.

They don’t like that I’ve brought you here, that I’m treating you as family.

They want to make a statement by hurting Sarah.

By hurting you.

His colors went dark.

I won’t let them.

I’m doubling security.

You’ll have guards.

But Maya was already shaking her head.

I can’t.

If staying here puts Sarah in danger, you being here keeps her alive, Matias said fiercely.

You’ve brought her back from the edge.

If you leave now, she’ll break.

And I will break.

Please.

His hand found hers in the dim light.

Please don’t go.

Maya looked at Sarah, sleeping peacefully now.

Her colors finally calm.

Looked at Matias, whose colors showed nothing but desperate sincerity.

She thought about walking away, going back to her safe small life.

But these people needed her.

And somewhere along the way, she’d started needing them, too.

“Okay,” she said.

“I’ll stay, but you teach me how to defend myself.

If someone comes for me, I’m not going down easy.

” Matias’s expression shifted.

Respect mixing with his relief.

Done.

And Maya.

I’ll keep you safe.

I promise.

His colors blazed with gold.

Truth.

She believed him.

Outside, dawn broke over the mansion.

Inside, a makeshift family held together by colors and trust and desperate love made plans to face the dark.

Training to defend yourself against vampires, Maya discovered, was significantly harder than training to defend yourself against humans.

Especially when your instructor could move faster than you could blink and had supernatural strength.

Again, Matias said as Maya picked herself up from the training mat for the 10th time that morning.

She grabbed the wooden steak he’d given her.

It felt ridiculous in her hand.

This won’t work.

You’re too fast.

I’m holding back considerably.

Real vampires won’t.

He moved.

Maya tried to track him, but he was already behind her, his hand gentle on her spine.

Dead.

Try again.

They’d converted a basement room into a training space.

Mats on the floor, weapons on the walls, everything designed to teach Maya how to survive if the wrong vampire came calling.

Two weeks since the attack at Sarah’s window.

Two weeks of guards stationed around the mansion.

Of checking locks and windows, of teaching Sarah that being afraid was okay, but being smart was better.

Ma spun stake leading.

Matus caught her wrist easily.

Too slow.

You’re thinking like a human.

Think like prey trying to outthink a predator.

That’s a terrible pep talk.

He smiled slightly.

You’re doing better than most.

Maya had noticed something in their training sessions.

When they fought, even in practice, Matias’s colors shifted.

The sadness faded.

The loneliness dimmed.

Action gave him purpose.

Made him feel less helpless.

He needed this as much as she did.

Show me again, she said.

how you moved last time.

He demonstrated a blur of motion that her eyes couldn’t quite follow.

Maya watched his colors instead.

Saw them shift micros secondsonds before he moved.

There, she pointed.

Your colors change right before you commit.

Like a telling poker.

He stopped, stared at her.

No one’s ever noticed that before because no one else can see what I see.

Show me every vampire’s colors before they attack.

If I can learn to read the patterns, I might be able to predict movement.

Matias’s expression shifted.

Impressed.

Approving.

His colors went warm gold.

You’re brilliant, he said quietly.

Ma’s face heated.

I’m just working with what I have.

It’s more than that.

He moved closer.

Not threatening, just present.

You see the world differently than anyone I’ve ever met.

It makes you dangerous in ways that have nothing to do with stakes and weapons.

Before she could respond, the door opened.

Helena stood there, her expression carved from ice.

Your Majesty, the council has arrived.

They’re demanding an audience.

Mattheus’s colors went cold.

Now they’re in the main hall with representatives from the old families.

He swore quietly.

Stay here, he said to Maya.

This doesn’t concern you.

The way Helena’s colors spiked, pure red hostility suggested it absolutely concerned Maya.

The council met in a room that looked like it belonged in a medieval castle.

High ceilings, tapestries on the walls, a circular table where 12 vampires sat in ornate chairs.

Matias took the 13th seat, the largest at the table’s head.

Maya, ignoring his order to stay behind, slipped in through a side door and positioned herself in the shadows.

She’d learned vampires had excellent hearing, but their vision in bright light was sometimes worse than humans, and this room was blazingly lit with chandeliers.

A vampire with silver hair and colors like dried blood spoke first.

Matias, we need to discuss your human.

The way he said it made it sound like an insult.

Lady Margaret, Matias said coldly.

If you have concerns, state them plainly.

You’ve brought a mortal into your house.

Given her access to the air, allowed her to influence the child.

It’s unprecedented.

Dangerous.

She’s helping my daughter communicate.

That’s all that matters.

Another vampire, younger, with colors that swirled between purple envy and green ambition.

It sends a message that humans are equals, that they belong in our world.

They don’t.

My world, Mata said softly, dangerously.

And in my world, anyone who helps my daughter is welcome.

The room erupted, voices talking over each other, accusations flying.

Humans are food, not family.

You’re making us look weak.

The old laws forbid this.

Maya watched the colors in the room spiral into chaos.

Anger, fear, hatred, all directed at Matias, at her.

Then she saw it.

In the corner, a vampire she didn’t recognize.

His colors were wrong.

Not the emotional palette she usually saw, but something else.

Something magical.

Dark purple threaded with sickly green.

And those colors were reaching toward Matias like poisoned vines.

Magic.

Someone was using magic on him.

Maya moved before thinking, stepped out of the shadows.

Excuse me.

The room went silent.

12 vampires turned to stare at her.

Matias’s expression flashed between anger and concern.

Maya, I told you to stay.

I know, but someone in this room is using magic.

She pointed at the vampire in the corner.

Him.

dark spell aimed at you.

The vampire’s colors flared.

Panic, guilt.

He bolted for the door.

Didn’t make it two steps before Matias was on him.

Moving with violence Maya had never seen.

The king slammed the vampire against the wall hard enough to crack stone.

What did you do? The vampire thrashed.

Nothing.

The girl is lying.

Maya walked closer.

She could see the magic more clearly now.

Dark threads connecting this vampire to an object in his pocket.

A talisman.

Charm magic designed to cloud judgment.

Increased paranoia.

She’d read about it in the books.

Matias had gi pocket.

Matias reached in, pulled out a small stone etched with symbols.

The moment it left the vampire’s pocket, the dark colors in the room dissipated.

The council members blinked, looking confused.

What? Lady Margaret started.

What just happened? You were spelled, Maya said.

All of you.

To make you angrier, more suspicious.

Someone wanted this meeting to end badly.

The room exploded again, but this time directed at the vampire Matias held.

“Who gave you this?” Matias demanded.

“Who ordered you to spell my counsel?” The vampire stayed silent.

Matias’s hand moved to his throat.

Talk or I demonstrate why challenging a king is unwise.

The vampires colors broke.

Fear overriding loyalty.

The purists.

They hired me.

Said you needed to be removed.

That the human was making you weak.

Matias threw him toward the guards who’d appeared at the door.

Dungeon.

We’ll continue this conversation later.

As they dragged the vampire away, Matias turned to the council.

His colors were pure authority now.

Gold and deep blue.

Absolute command.

Let me be very clear.

Maya Winters is under my protection.

She is helping my daughter.

Anyone who threatens her threatens Sarah, and anyone who threatens my child will answer to me personally.

Is that understood? The council nodded, subdued.

Their colors showed respect, fear, understanding.

Continue reading….
« Prev Next »