Anthony Francis - Frost Moon

"No, I'm not being rude," he snapped back at Alex. "I'm tired of all the tricks these goddam charlatans play. I want to see for myself-"

Then his eyes took me in and widened in shock. "Jesus Christ."

"Language, Mister Valentine," Jinx said reprovingly.

"Thought I was faking it to get out of the challenge, didn't you?" I said, and embarrassment spread over his sharp features. More than one target of the Valentine Challenge had become conveniently unable to continue. I held up my bandaged hand and wriggled the fingers. "You don't get off that easy. We're still on."

The shock and embarrassment in his face spread into a wide, delighted grin. "Hear that?" he said, elbowing Alex. "I look forward to it, Miss Frost."

And then Savannah awoke, stretching like a cat. "Oh, Dakota," she said, smiling sleepily, "it's so good to see you awake."

And then she yawned, showing her shocking canines.

Vampire fangs are huge, sharp and pointed like a cat's, larger than you'd expect; even the lateral incisors have a bit of an edge to them. Brand new vampires often have dental problems, but that's OK; Savannah tells me the self-healing nature of their bodies helps the mouth adapt over time. Honestly, the sight of her vamp teeth never bothered me before, but now I twitched, flashing on Transomnia's canines, on his face, on his cold, red eyes. On all the things he did to me-and threatened to do. It was too much. I twitched and looked away. There was a tremendous pressure on my bladder, and I squeezed my legs together.

Her yawn ended, and she caught me looking away. "What's the matter-" and then she got it, all of a sudden, closing her mouth and throwing her hand over it. She stared at me in horror for one brief moment, realizing that I couldn't separate her from them, that I hated and feared what she was-and that her becoming a vampire had left real, deep wounds between us she had never fully acknowledged. Then she got up and ran away.

I felt an aching in my chest. I had loved Savannah. I had thought of her as my wife. But now she was a vampire, and a part of me was glad she was running away-and the rest of me was just a big old bundle of guilt and pain.

Then Jinx grabbed my hand and squeezed it for support, and in the sudden silence I realized everyone was staring at me. Realized everyone could see I'd been knocked off my personal pedestal of invincibility. Realized everyone-wait for it-pitied me.

I tore my hand out of Jinx's and twisted up to look at Phil. "I can't go on like this. I can't let myself become a victim. I have to-I have to-learn to defend myself."

Phil scowled. Rand nodded. And Darren rode to the rescue. "That's easy enough. You've got some recovery time ahead of you, but you're a big, confident woman. There are things we can do right now to make you safer."

Philip caught his breath, and did I hear a touch of jealousy in his voice? "Now, look, Darren, we appreciate what you did-"

"No, I want to hear this," I said, focusing on Darren. All I wanted to do was hit something, and hard, and maybe this guy could help me. "In the restaurant I overheard you talking about a fight in Colorado. How you took a guy out with one kick. If you weren't shooting off your mouth to impress me, I want to learn to do that-"

"You'd be better off learning how to deal with your anger," the priest said.

"I suppose you're going to tell me to turn the other cheek," I said hotly.

Canon Grace stared at me sadly. "I suppose I am."

"You should listen to him," Darren said, so cheerily that at first I thought he was joking. "It's totally good advice." At the cold glare of the priest he raised his hands and said, "No, I'm completely serious-controlling your anger is a good place to start. The best fights are ones that never happen. Once I was on the beach sunbathing, and some jerk threw water in my face to try to pick a fight."

He slid out of his chair smoothly, a well oiled machine, dropping into a low, coiled stance with one arm shot forward like a blade and the other fist raised behind him in the air.

"So I dropped into jodan, it's your basic low stance, and just sat there. The guy stood there in front of his buddies, cussing, calling me a coward-and then walked off, thinking he'd showed me. If I'd tussled with him, I would have ended up hurting three people-or getting hurt by three people. Instead, we had a perfect outcome-we both walked away winners."

He seemed to notice he was in a 'low stance' and uncoiled, windmilling his hands so he went back to a normal standing position with seemingly no effort.

"I tell my students to turn the other cheek because that shit works," he said. "It keeps you out of trouble. Everything else I or these guys can teach you is all about how to deal with trouble if you've failed to keep out of it. First rule of martial arts-if there's trouble, don't be there."

"Don't be there," I said. "Easier said than done."

He nodded. "But you can learn to look out for trouble, with a little practice. In the meantime, listen to your friends," he said, indicating Philip, Rand, the priest, all with a simple gesture. "They're looking out for you. You're not going to go give up tattooing and go become a cop just to get back at this guy, are you?"

"No," I laughed. "Don't think so-"

"Lord knows we need the help," Philip said, a little forced, but holding the green monster of jealousy at bay. "Darren, I think I misjudged you earlier. Where do you teach?"

"I teach the Emory University Taido karate club," he said, "and also I teach some of the children's classes at the main Taido school in Norcross."

"You're a… kid's karate teacher?" Rand said, arching an eyebrow.

"I also do some mixed martial arts," he said, shrugging.

"Well, soon as I get out of here," I said. "I want you to show me how to mix it up."

"No promises, other than hard work won't bring miracles," he said.

I looked at Jinx. "Speaking of miracles… tell Savannah to come back," I said. There was a horrible pang in my heart when I said it; I hadn't meant for it to come out that way, or maybe I did, because the words kept on spilling out and I couldn't stop them. "I want to say I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," Doug said. "She bolted to protect you."

"She didn't have to," I said. But I flashed again on her yawn. Her fangs. Those terrible fangs. Her eyes. Transomnia's cold eyes. My fingers in his pruners. His foot in my gut. Sudden pressure grew in my abdomen, and I hunched over, trembling. I wanted to say something else, but I couldn't. I just couldn't.

"Maybe… maybe she did," Jinx said at last.

"I think," Phil said softly, "Miss Frost has had enough excitement for the day."

Intense pain spiked through my hands. I opened my eyes to a darkened hospital room. A black figure with ominous red eyes stood at the end of my bed. He held up something shiny and dripping, like a little sausage. I held up my trembling hands: the first two fingers of each hand were gone, leaving raw stumps. As I watched, the other fingers fell away, one by one, leaving me with two bloody flippers instead of hands. And Transomnia laughed.

I screamed and sat up bolt upright, fingers tearing at the sheets of the hospital bed. It was midday; I had dozed off and fell straight into the same damn nightmare. My fingers throbbed painfully, but they were there. Thank God, they were all there. I rubbed the two fingers of my right hand with the thumb and fingers of my left until the tingling went away.

"I have got to get the fuck out of here," I said.

And at that moment Philip strolled in the door, carrying flowers and a wry smile that both indicated he was up to something.

"Up for a tour of the campus?" he asked.

"Up for anything," I said, "that gets me outside."