Page 10 of Blood Lovers

That’s where Grandma enters the story once again. After escaping the vampire, Paul, she went back to the coven and killed them all. Wiped them completely out.

Then she took my mother and hid her until she gave birth to me and just moments after I was born, she didn’t kill me to steal my power—she killed my mother to steal hers. Who knew that could be done?

Not me.

Grandma used this stolen power to cloak me, making me invisible to the monster who wanted my blood.

I am the last in a long line of evil and that is why the Guild decided to protect me, I suppose. If they could change me—if they could… fix me—then my kind doesn’t need to go extinct. My kind might rise again, but instead of feeding evil, we would feed goodness instead.

I like this idea. A lot.

Are there more Black witch covens? The file didn’t say.

There must be more. Somewhere.

But I don’t care about the Black witches. I am not loyal to them.

I hate them.

I hate myself, too.

I am evil and all I want to do is leave this world with a cleaner soul than when I entered it.

On the bed beside me, my grandma moans.

“Grandma? Can you hear me? It’s Syrsee. I’m here, Grandma. Zusi brought me to say goodbye.”

Her face is so pale. And her skin is so thin, it’s an almost transparent blue color. I can see tiny blood vessels and, if I let my imagination go, I can almost see her bones.

She moans again.

“Grandma?” I scoot in closer to her and squeeze her hand.

Do I love my grandma? I don’t know.

Ask me today, and it’s a maybe. Ask me last week, and it was a definite no.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel sorry for her. Or that I haven’t always wanted the best for her. I bitch and moan about the things she’s done, but these were the same things that saved me. And yes, she killed my mother. But she’s the reason I’m the last of the Black witches.

There’s a part of me that applauds my grandma’s bold move. The part that lives, obviously. But I admire the way she didn’t let anyone stop her. Like… how the hell did she even escape the vampire’s feeder compound? And how did she know the exact moment that I would be born?

This was not in the file. The story is missing a lot of details but the obvious answer is—she’s a Black witch. And even though I am one of them, I do not understand their full power.

Here is what I do know, and ultimately, this is all that matters:

The Guild has been great to me. I have a very comfortable life with them.

But I am not one of them.

Black witches are awful. We’re horrible. And I do not want to be one of them, either.

My grandma is so… gross. So weak, and evil, and sick, and repulsive. And sitting here I feel, with a hundred percent certainty, that this is my bleak future if I don’t stay true to the Guild.

And I’d rather die than be this.

But my grandma really did do her best. She saved me from a life unimaginable. She killed my mother, but she freed her, as well.

I’m here, I’m alive, and I have a life outside all this darkness. And the simple fact is… I owe it all to Grandma and I would like to tell her this before she goes.