Chapter Text
The wind was howling in Hope’s ears, but the chill she felt as it lashed against her skin was nothing compared to the dread that settled in her stomach as she watched the two figures standing in the center of the clearing join hands.
Whatever Gemini Coven magic powered the ritual, it’s accuracy was unnerving. The clock had struck midnight on March fifteenth, the day of the twin’s twenty-second birthday, and Josie and Lizzie had both felt the pull of the magic in their blood, forcing them to Merge. So, Hope and Alaric had followed the twins into the woods outside of the school, and waited for the lunar eclipse that would act as the celestial event needed to activate the Merge.
The clearing was illuminated by the faint reddish-glow cast by the blood moon hovering above them, reduced to a sliver of light in a sky void of stars. In the distance, the lights of the Salvatore School shone through the trees.
After the past five years, Hope had thought she’d come to terms with the reality of the Merge. But she hadn’t truly understood what it meant until this moment. After all of the time they’d spent trying to find a solution, the months of pouring over ancient grimoires with Josie, the countless calls to Freya in New Orleans... it was all for nothing. Despite their best efforts, the Merge was happening, and one of the twins was going to die.
Unless Josie’s plan worked, and they both managed to survive this.
“It’s time,” Josie said, her voice cutting through the howling wind, an echo of the words she’d spoken into the quiet of the twin’s bedroom as the clock struck twelve.
Alaric flinched, but he didn’t move from her side, entirely focused on his daughters. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the school, and Hope would have no idea what to say to him even if he had.
She’d failed him. She’d failed all of them.
“No,” Lizzie said, her voice trembling along with her body, and Hope got the sense that Josie’s grip on her hands was the only thing keeping her standing. “No, I’m not going to do this. We’re not doing this, it’s—“
“We don’t have a choice,” Josie said, interrupting her sister before she could finish, though Hope heard the tremor in her own voice. This wasn’t any easier for her, but she didn’t want Lizzie to know she was scared. “The curse will make us merge one way or another, at least this way there’s a chance—“
“A chance for what?” Lizzie demanded, her hair whipping in the wind. “One of us will die, Josie, how is that—“
“Trust me,” Josie said, her gaze not leaving Lizzie’s as she slid the knife across her palm. “Please, Lizzie. Trust me to get us through this.”
Lizzie hesitated, shaking her head, scanning the clearing for a solution that wasn’t coming. And that’s when her gaze found Hope.
Hope had known Lizzie for over a decade, and yet she’d never seen that look in her eyes. She was terrified, and desperate, and she needed Hope to fix it, fix this, like she always did.
For a moment, Hope was reminded of the Triad invasion six years ago, when Lizzie had taken her hand and told her to stop feeling sorry for herself and save all of their asses.
But Hope wasn’t the hero Lizzie had made her out to be. She never had been, despite what she’d let everyone believe. All she’d ever wanted was to protect the people she cared about, and she’d failed.
She couldn’t stop this.
Lizzie saw the shame and pain in her eyes, and Hope knew that she understood. The edges of her mouth lifted, the ghost of a smile, but Hope refused to acknowledge it as she turned back to Josie and eased the knife from her sister’s hands, wincing as she cut into her palm.
“I love you,” Lizzie said, choking back tears, the knife falling to the ground as they joined hands.
“I love you, too,” Josie said, and Hope flinched at the pain in her voice, the smile that she forced onto her face.
Then, as if the words had been hovering on the tips of their tongues, waiting to be released, the twins began to chant.
Sanguinem desimilus. Sanguinem generis fiantus!
Alaric was shaking, and Hope knew that every bone in his body was straining to move, to run across the clearing and separate his daughters before he lost one of them forever.
Hope should be screaming, or sobbing, but she just felt numb. She knew what was about to happen.
So, when Lizzie faltered in her chanting, when her eyes snapped open and she stared at her sister in horror, Hope wasn’t even surprised.
“Josie!” Lizzie screamed, struggling to break her sister’s iron grip. “Josie, what are you doing? Fight back!”
Josie opened her eyes slowly, and Hope flinched when she saw that they were entirely white. “I told you to trust me. This is the only way, Lizzie.”
We both know who will walk out of that clearing tomorrow, Hope. And it won’t be me.
Hope had known all along that if it got to this point, Josie wouldn’t allow her sister to die so that she could live. It wasn’t in her nature, even though her time under the influence of black magic had proved she would be the victor of the merge if she tried.
But that was the point; Josie wasn’t trying. She was allowing Lizzie to siphon all of her magic, to drain her until there was nothing left.
Lizzie was still screaming at Josie, and out of the corner of her eye Hope saw Alaric turn away, unable to watch, but she couldn’t bring herself to do the same.
Not as the twins stopped chanting, the silence sudden and unnerving, and they both fell to the ground.
Alaric surged forward, lifting Josie’s limp form into his arms, his hands shaking as he felt for a pulse. Hope already knew that he wouldn’t find one, her enhanced senses only able to detect Lizzie’s faint heartbeat. She’d braced herself for it, prepared for that loss as best she could, but the silence where Josie’s heart used to beat was still unbearable.
“Did you know?” He growled, turning to her, his face stained with tears. “Did you know what Josie was going to do?”
“Yes,” Hope admitted, struggling to speak past the tightness in her chest. “But—“
“How could you let her do that?” Alaric snapped, and even though she knew he wasn’t truly angry with her, the words still stung.
“You don’t understand. If you’d just let me explain—“
But she didn’t have to, because Josie chose that moment to open her eyes, gasping for air as she jerked awake.
Alaric was at her side in an instant, but Hope barely registered his movements, or the pain in his voice as he clutched Josie to his chest. Not as her own relief almost sent her to her knees, the sound of Josie’s heartbeat drowning out everything else.
It was enough of a distraction that it took Hope a moment to realize that something was wrong.
Because Josie was alive, and Lizzie...
Lizzie was still lying on the ground, the heartbeat Hope had clung to suddenly absent, and she wasn’t breathing.
“No,” Josie whispered, her voice a dull, hoarse rasp as she noticed her sister’s lifeless form. “No, no, no—“
She was screaming now, breaking Alaric’s grip on her as she flung herself onto the ground at her sister’s side, her hands finding Lizzie’s and clutching them to her chest, as if she could forcibly keep her soul in her body.
“This isn’t right,” she sobbed, trembling as she stared at Lizzie’s pale face. “It was supposed to be me, I gave her everything I— I died, I don’t understand—“
“Josie,” Hope said, unable to resist the urge to comfort her, even though her limbs were still refusing to work. “It’s okay—“
The lie was heavy on her tongue, because nothing about this was okay, but Josie interrupted her before she could finish.
“What happened?” She growled, whipping her head around to glare at Hope. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, I—“
“What is she talking about?” Alaric demanded, his face twisted with anguish as Josie began to sob, resting her head on Lizzie’s chest.
“I gave her my blood,” Hope told him, struggling to speak as her body went numb. “She gave all of her magic to Lizzie, and when she died my blood it... it brought her back. But I don’t understand. Lizzie won the merge, she should be here. Unless—“
“Unless what?” Alaric asked, even as he took in Josie huddled over her sister’s body, and realized what Hope was trying to tell him.
“The loophole didn’t work,” Hope murmured, flinching at her own words, at the horrible reality that she was coming to terms with as Lizzie remained limp and unmoving on the ground.
“Which means that Josie’s not just a vampire in transition. She’s a heretic.”
✵ ✵ ✵
When Josie woke up, her first coherent thought was that it was too fucking loud.
The birds chirping in the trees outside her window, the creaking of the floorboards, the distant chatter of the students in the hallway... it was as if each of those sounds had been magnified, a terrible chorus of noise that made it impossible to think of anything else.
It was overwhelming enough that she jerked upright, her breath coming in panicked gasps as she tried to piece together how she’d gotten back to her room, to her bed. And why everything was so damn loud.
“Hey,” said a voice, soft and reassuring, though even in her confused state Josie heard the concern behind it, as well as the relief. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”
She turned her head, and that’s when she saw who was sitting beside her.
Hope.
She must have said her name, because Hope nodded. Josie knew that she should say something, voice one of the countless questions whirling around in her brain, but it was still difficult to breathe, to think, past the pounding in her head.
“Hey,” Hope murmured, and she raised an arm before letting it fall again, as if she’d wanted to take Josie’s hand but had thought better of it. “It’s me, I’m right here.”
When she didn’t respond, Hope’s brow furrowed, and Josie could tell she was worried even if she was trying to hide it. “How are you feeling? You’ve been in and out of it for hours.”
“What happened?” Josie asked, choking on the words as she fisted her hands in the sheets.
In the back of her mind, she thought she knew. But it was as if the events that had taken place in that clearing had happened to someone else, like it was a bad dream.
“How much do you remember?” Hope asked, and Josie didn’t miss the wariness in her voice, or how she was pointedly avoiding her gaze.
“We were in the clearing,” Josie murmured, her brain easing the pieces of her memory together, even as a part of her screamed at it to stop. “And I felt my magic being drained, and then everything went... dark. And I thought, I thought that I—“
I thought that I died.
She looked at Hope then, unable to voice that thought, but when she saw the anguish on her face she knew she didn’t have to.
“It worked,” she whispered, her shock overriding all of the other emotions that tried to rise to the surface at the realization. “I died with your blood in my system, which means—“
Her voice had started to shake, and it was hard to breathe again, so Hope finished it for her. “It means that you’re in transition,” she said, and Josie pretended not to notice that her hands were shaking. “And that if you don’t feed, you’ll die. For real, this time.”
Hope’s voice cracked on the end of that sentence, but Josie couldn’t bring herself to care. She didn’t care that she was in transition, couldn’t contemplate her potentially immortal existence, not when she realized what this meant.
“It worked,” she repeated, though the words were followed by a rush of relief this time. “And that means Lizzie— oh, god Lizzie. Where is she? Is she okay? She’s going to be furious with me, I have to—“
The words caught in her throat when she saw the expression on Hope’s face, when she realized that Lizzie would have insisted on being there when Josie woke up if she could have. Which meant that she was hurt, or sleeping off the effects of the Merge somewhere else.
“What is it?” Josie demanded, forcing herself to remain calm, to not assume the worse. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
“Josie—“ Hope said, her attention fixed on the closed door as if she was waiting for someone. “When you and Lizzie merged, she took all of that power into herself, and you died. But when you woke up, she—“
“Just tell me, Hope,” she snapped, her irritation spiking. If she’d hurt Lizzie, if something had happened to her—
“The loophole didn’t work,” Hope murmured, and shame lingered in her eyes as she met Josie’s gaze. “And Lizzie... she didn’t survive it.“
“You mean that she didn’t get to keep the magic, right?” Josie asked, shaking her head as she felt her nails dig into the skin of her palms. “Because that’s fine, that’s—“
“Josie,” Hope whispered, and Josie found that she hated it, how gentle her voice was. “Lizzie’s dead.”
No. No, that wasn’t right. She’d seen Lizzie only hours ago, and she’d been fine. She’d been alive and breathing and she wasn’t dead because... because she couldn’t be. Hope was wrong, or she was lying, or—
She heard Hope say her name, but it was as if her senses had been dulled. Josie faintly recognized that her hands were shaking.
“Josie,” Hope said, and the primal command in her voice cut through the layer of fog surrounding her thoughts. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?”
Josie must have nodded, because Hope sighed, and that’s when she noticed the dried tears on her cheeks. She’d been crying.
And that, more than anything, broke the spell of denial that had fallen over Josie. The pain lining Hope’s face, the slump of her shoulders, her red-rimmed eyes.
Lizzie was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.
Those two words didn’t belong together, she decided. Lizzie, who’d always been so expressive and vibrant and full of life, couldn’t be dead. Because Josie still needed her. She needed her to plan their birthday parties and force her into making stupid decisions, to be a bridesmaid at her wedding and to wake her up at four in the morning to brag about the cute boy she’d hooked up with at the bar.
“You’re lying,” she said, but even she heard that the conviction was absent from her voice. “Hope, tell me you’re lying.”
She was begging now, she knew that. Hope wouldn’t lie to her, not about this. Which meant...
Which meant it was true.
Hope shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes as she tried to take Josie’s hand. Josie balked at the contact, at the warmth of Hope’s fingers against her skin.
“I was ready to die,” Josie murmured, barely loud enough to be heard by human ears, but Hope must have because she flinched. “I did die. I should have stayed that way.”
“Josie, don’t say that,” Hope whispered, retracting her outstretched hand as if she’d been burned.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Josie said, her voice sounding distant even to her own ears as she stared at Lizzie’s empty bed, the water glass on her nightstand.
Hope moved then, perching on the edge of the bed as she pulled Josie into her arms. Josie froze, trembling as she tried to resist that awful pressure in her chest, the burning in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Jo,” Hope said, her voice thick with emotion as she tightened her grip on Josie, as if she knew that she’d try to pull away.
With those four words, the final barrier holding Josie’s grief at bay cracked. She pressed her face into Hope’s shoulder, and as she started to sob, there was only one thought in her head.
It should have been me.
✵ ✵ ✵
Hope stepped into the hallway and shut the door to Josie’s bedroom behind her, loosing the breath that she’d been holding since Josie had first opened her eyes.
She was alive.
She was grieving, and in transition, but Josie was alive.
And Lizzie was dead.
Hope hadn’t let herself think about it, knowing that once she acknowledged that Lizzie was truly gone, she’d break down. She needed to be there for Josie right now, and she couldn’t do that if she allowed her own grief to consume her.
Later. She’d think about it later.
Thankfully, a distraction arrived in the form of a very pissed-off Alaric Saltzman.
“What the hell happened?” He demanded, glaring at her. An accusation, not a question. “I told you to come find me as soon as she woke up.”
“Well, I wasn’t just going to leave her there by herself,” Hope snapped, but she checked her tone when she saw Alaric’s anguished expression. “She’s okay. She’s grieving, and overwhelmed, but she’ll feel better once she feeds and completes the transition.”
Alaric flinched, and Hope knew that he was far from pleased about his now-only daughter transitioning into a heretic. As if she had a choice. Josie would feed, or she’d die.
“This isn’t right,” he said, running a shaking hand through his hair. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. And now Lizzie’s—“
He choked on her name, and Hope struggled to keep her own emotions hidden. It was still too soon, too fresh, for them to have this conversation.
“I know,” she said, though she knew her grief paled in comparison to his. “But Josie is still here, Alaric. She’s alive, and she’s still your daughter. You need to be there for her. When she wakes up—“
“You’ll stay away from her,” Alaric said, and Hope almost stepped back when she saw his expression, the pure loathing contorting his features.
“What?” She asked, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears.
“This is your fault,” Alaric growled, staring a Josie’s door as if he could see her through the wood. “You ruined her life.“
Hope was speechless, unable to even craft a rebuttal as the accusation hit her.
You ruined her life.
“You gave her your blood,” Alaric continued, the words coming faster now, as if he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “You let her believe this insane plan of hers could actually work. You should have said no, Hope. You should have come to me. You should have stopped her—“
He wasn’t done, but Hope couldn’t listen to this anymore. She already blamed herself for this, of course she did, but hearing it from Alaric was like a verbal confirmation of her own worse fears.
“That’s enough,” she snarled, and even Alaric paused at the sound, as if suddenly remembering what she was capable of. “If you think that I don’t blame myself for this, then you’re wrong. I don’t need you to tell me that I failed. Don’t you think that I’ve already had this exact conversation with myself a million times?”
Alaric’s entire body slumped, as if his anger had been the only thing holding him together, but she needed to finish her explanation.
“Josie came to me,” she told him. “And she told me that she was going to let Lizzie win the Merge, that if I wanted her to live, I had to give her my blood. And then, she made me promise not to tell anyone, including you.”
Why me, Josie? You could have gone to any vampire in the school.
Because you’re the only person I trust enough to do this. Please, Hope.
That was what had done her in. That goddamn please, because for some reason she was unable to say no to her. She’d seen the determination in Josie’s eyes, and known she was going to go through with it, no matter what Hope did. So, she’d made a choice.
And even now, despite Alaric’s rage, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.
✵ ✵ ✵
Josie didn’t know how long she stood in front of her dresser, studying her reflection in the mirror.
The strangest part was that it was exactly the same as it had been twenty-four hours ago. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but the apprehension she’d felt before looking into the mirror had vanished, and been replaced with something like disappointment. There were no fangs, no veins underneath her eyes. Considering the grief tearing her apart from the inside out, she felt as if she should bear some visible mark of damage.
Maybe she was just grasping for something that would make all of this seem real.
Even once she’d recovered from the exhaustion that had pulled her under after her emotional breakdown, she’d lied in bed and begged herself to wake up from the nightmare that was now her reality. She’d pinched her skin until it was red, closed her eyes until dizzying spirals spun across the inside of her eyelids, and then she’d given up.
So, she decided to leave the safety of her bedroom, even if it was just for a snack.
She was slower than usual getting dressed, still recovering from the shock to her system, and it didn’t help that her head was pounding. Someone had shut the curtains in her room, which was a reprieve, but the light that managed to slip through the cracks felt like daggers stabbing her brain into oblivion.
A symptom, she knew, of a vampire in transition. Increased sensitivity to sunlight.
It still didn’t feel real. She’d tried to mentally prepare herself for it, when she’d thought her becoming a vampire was the solution to everything.
Denial was no use, she knew it in her bones. She was in transition.
If the pounding headache and aversion to sunlight weren’t enough evidence, the aching in her gums proved it. And yet, each of those uncomfortable sensations were dull in comparison to the hole in her chest where her sister used to be.
Josie realized she was still wearing her clothes from the day before, though someone had removed her jacket and shoes and set them by the door. She opened the top dresser drawer, grabbing a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie of Lizzie’s with the Salvatore Logo on it.
It still smelled like her, jasmine and lemongrass and that fancy perfume she’d bought in Paris when they’d visited their mom for Christmas. Josie allowed herself to stand there, breathing it in with her nose pressed to the fabric, until the light behind the blinds began to fade.
The skin around her eyes was red and puffy, but she didn’t bother to hide it. Her sister had just died, people would expect her to be crying. It was normal.
Even if nothing else was.
✵ ✵ ✵
When Josie went downstairs, she avoided the stares of the kids she passed in the hallway, and decided to escape to the kitchens for a little peace and quiet.
She was hungry, and while she knew it wasn’t what she was truly craving, she thought a snack might tie her over for a little while. Most of the students were still in class, so it should be empty. Josie didn’t know if she could survive any more prying, or pity.
But when she got to the kitchen, it wasn’t empty.
Hope stood at the counter, and when she saw Josie a smile spread across her face as she said, “Hey, you’re awake!”
Josie hesitated, not sure if she could handle a conversation with Hope right now. But in the end, her hunger overwhelmed her desire to flee, and she entered the kitchen.
But Hope seemed to understand that Josie didn’t want to talk, because she just smiled at her again, nudging a plate towards her. “I thought you might be hungry, so I made you a sandwich. No meat, just how you like it.”
Josie tried to smile at her, but even she knew it was an empty gesture. She stepped towards the counter, far too aware of the floorboards that creaked beneath her feet, and she was relieved that the curtains had been closed to block out the evening sun. Hope’s doing, no doubt.
Josie studied the sandwich Hope had made, ignoring Hope’s own examination of her. There was no pity in her expression, though, just concern. And the sandwich looked normal, appetizing.
But when Josie picked it up, a rush of nausea overwhelmed her. Her stomach protested, but she forced herself to take a bite.
It was a mistake. The moment her tongue touched the bread, her tastebuds revolted. It tasted vile, like she was eating garbage. She tried not to let it show on her face, but Hope still noticed. “It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”
Josie shook her head, even as she had to force the food down her throat. “No, no it’s—“
“It’s disgusting,” Hope said, her gaze knowing. “You don’t have to lie, Jo. It’s okay.”
“Yeah, it’s bad,” Josie admitted, lowering the sandwich to the plate and pushing it away from her.
Hope frowned, and Josie wanted more than anything to erase the look of worry from her face. She hated this. Everyone acting as if she was the victim; she didn’t deserve it. This had been her idea, and now she was paying the price for it.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Blood. She’d known vampires her entire life, had listened to them describe the uncontrollable hunger they struggled with, but she’d never imagine it would be like this. It had been a struggle to pass the students in the hallway without thinking about tearing into their necks, and even now she could sense Hope’s blood running through her veins, calling to her, urging her to feed.
“I can’t—“ she choked on the words, and it was only Hope’s nod of encouragement that allowed her to voice the thought. “I can’t stop thinking about blood.”
Hope sighed, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Jo,” she said, biting her lip. “This is all my fault. You shouldn’t have to go through this, I should have found a way to save both you and Lizzie. I failed—“
“This isn’t your fault, Hope,” Josie said, interrupting Hope’s self-deprecating monologue. “It’s mine.”
“Josie—“ Hope started, ready to argue, but Josie didn’t let her.
“No, Hope, listen to me,” she said, the volume of her voice rising. “I practically forced you to give me your blood. If anything, I should be apologizing to you.”
“Your dad thinks I ruined your life,” Hope said, the words rushing from her lips as if she needed to get them off of her chest before she lost her nerve.
Alaric had likely said those words in the heat of the moment, driven by anger and grief, but even then... he knew how Hope was, knew about her past, and he had still blamed her for something that had been Josie’s decision.
Josie moved around the counter, and Hope lifted her head when she took her hand. “Hope, you did the right thing,” she told her, guilt flooding her when she saw the pain in Hope’s eyes. “You did what you always do. You respected my choice, you trusted me. I forced you to do this, I—“
All of a sudden, the emotions coursing through her were overwhelming. The anger, the guilt, and underneath all of it that hunger.
“God, I’m so stupid,” she said, her hand slipping from Hope’s as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I never should have done this, it was a mistake. And I can’t stop thinking about blood, god—“
“That’s perfectly normal, Josie—“
“Nothing about this is normal, Hope,” Josie snapped, even as a part of her hated herself for lashing out at Hope when she was just trying to help. “My dad is spiraling, I’m transitioning into a vampire, and Lizzie—“
Lizzie’s dead.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak those words aloud, not yet. A sob tore from her chest, and she buried her face in her hands, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
Distantly, she was aware of Hope’s voice asking if she was okay, the hand she placed on Josie’s shoulder. Everything was trapped in a sort of haze, though, and it wasn’t until Hope wrapped her arms around her that Josie’s head cleared.
Hope was warm, a comforting, steady heat that thawed the ice in Josie’s bones. Without thinking, Josie buried her head in Hope’s shoulder, her cheek brushing against the thick wool of her sweater. She mumbled an apology for getting it wet, but Hope said it didn’t matter, her fingers tracing a soothing pattern onto Josie’s back through her sweatshirt.
When Josie had pulled herself together enough to speak, she pulled back, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “God, I’m such a mess.”
“Your emotions are heightened,” Hope reminded her, and Josie realized how close they were standing as she reached out and ran her hand along Josie’s arm in a soothing gesture. “You’ll feel better once you feed.”
She imagined it. The blood coating her throat, the rush of energy. An eternity waiting for her. And then the world went cold again when she realized it meant an eternity without her sister.
“I’m not going to do that.”
Hope’s brow furrowed, as if she didn’t understand. “Josie, you don’t mean that. You’re just grieving, it’s—“
“Yes, I do,” Josie said, her voice firm. “I can’t do this, Hope. I can’t live like this.”
A tremor went through her body, and Josie fought to keep herself steady as she said, “So, do me a favor, Hope and just let me die.”
Hope’s gaze shuttered, and then it went dark. Josie ignored her pained expression; she didn’t want her pity.
Silence followed her outburst, and Hope opened her mouth to say something, but Josie didn’t give her the chance as she turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving Hope standing at the counter.
✵ ✵ ✵
When Josie arrived at the docks, she could hear the crickets chirping in the grass, the wind rustling in the trees overhead. That was normal.
What wasn’t normal was that she could hear the muffled chatter of the students partying at the mill, the electrical hum of the lights that illuminated the Salvatore School in the distance.
She sat down at the edge of the dock, the water lapping at her sneakers, and slipped a hand into the pocket of her coat.
The surface of the prism was smooth against her skin, it’s quartz panels emitting a soft white light as she set it on the dock beside her. It glowed golden, and then Josie wasn’t alone anymore.
“Hey, Jo,” Lizzie said as she appeared beside her, wearing the same striped jacket Josie had last seen her in, her blonde hair shining silver in the moonlight.
Lizzie grinned at her, the expression painfully familiar. It was the same smile she gave Josie when she told her about the guy she was crushing on, or when they would plan how to sneak out and go to a party without their dad noticing. It tugged at her heartstrings, and Josie knew there were tears in her eyes as she smiled at her sister.
It was almost too easy to pretend she was real, until—
“So, what‘s this about you letting yourself die?”
Josie flinched, shaking her head and staring at her hands. “I’m not—“
“Yes, you are, Jo,” Lizzie said, giving her a look. “If you don’t feed, you’ll die. And if you think that I’m going to let—“
“That’s the point!” Josie said, wincing at the sound of her own voice. “You can’t stop me. Lizzie, you’re dead.”
It was the first time she’d admitted it aloud, and Josie felt her heart shatter just a little bit more.
“I know,” Lizzie said, and Josie raised her head at the sincere, gentle tone of her voice. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be.”
“Don’t you get it?” Josie asked, needing Lizzie to understand. “I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to.”
“But I want you to,” Lizzie said, taking Josie’s hand in hers. “I didn’t die in the Merge so that you could throw your life away.”
Josie felt a rush of shame, but she still corrected Lizzie, “My life as a vampire.”
“So?” Lizzie asked, shrugging. “MG’s a vampire. He can help you adjust, give you the whole vampire boot camp.“
Josie didn’t miss the way Lizzie’s eyes shuttered when she mentioned MG. She’d been too caught up in her own grief to think about anyone else, but she knew this wasn’t any easier for him. There had always been something unspoken between him and Lizzie.
“And he’s not the only one,” Lizzie continued, and Josie felt that familiar defensiveness when she saw the knowing look in her eyes. “If you think Hope’s going to let you go through this alone, then you haven’t been paying attention.”
“I don’t want—“
Josie started to protest, saying that she didn’t want their help, when Lizzie interrupted her. “Jo, it’s okay to ask for help. It doesn’t make you weak, or a burden. You taught me that.”
Josie took a long, trembling breath, her grief tight in her chest. She knew Lizzie was right. It was wrong of her to throw her life away, to disregard Lizzie’s sacrifice. Which meant she had to go through with this, even if she was terrified. It was what Lizzie would have done.
“I love you so much,” she whispered, her vision blurring with tears.
“I know,” Lizzie said, smiling at her as she pulled Josie into her arms. “I love you too.”
Josie rested her head on Lizzie’s shoulder, breathed in the familiar scent of jasmine and vanilla, and then she let go.
✵ ✵ ✵
When Josie returned to her room, Hope was sitting on her bed.
At the sight of Josie standing in the doorway, Hope leap to her feet, and Josie didn’t miss her sigh of relief. She wondered how long she’d been waiting for her. “Josie, I—“
“Don’t,” Josie said, because she knew Hope, and she knew what she was about to say. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“I do,” Hope said, taking a step towards her. “I never should have pushed you like that. It’s not my decision, it’s yours, and I—“
“I changed my mind,” Josie blurted, closing the door behind her as she walked towards Hope. “I want to— I’m going to complete the transition.”
She saw the relief that flared to life in Hope’s gaze, but she kept it contained. “Josie, if I pressured you into anything—“
Josie cut her off again, shaking her head. “No, I made this decision myself.”
For some reason, she didn’t want to tell Hope that she’d talked to Lizzie. It still felt too real, too raw. Maybe it always would.
“I want you to do it,” she said, before she could lose her nerve. She hadn’t thought about it until this moment, but now that she’d said it, she knew it was the right decision. She didn’t trust anyone else with this, to be there with her when her fangs came out and to not turn away.
“If that’s okay,” she added, realizing that Hope might not want to do it.
“Josie—“ Hope began, but she stopped, as if collecting herself. “Josie, are you sure?”
Even as she questioned her, Josie saw the eagerness in Hope’s gaze. She wanted to do this, but Josie knew she’d never forgive herself if she came to hate her because she’d forced her into this decision.
Josie nodded, unable to find the right words to voice how she was feeling, and moved to sit on the bed. Slowly, as if waiting for Josie to change her mind, Hope joined her.
Her gaze never left Josie’s as she rolled up the sleeve of her sweater, and Josie forced herself to focus on her eyes instead of the skin of her wrist. Now that her mind knew she was about to feed, the hunger was starting to overwhelm her again.
“Hey,” Hope said, gripping Josie’s arm, as if she noticed that she’d started to slip away. “I promise I will be here for you, no matter what, okay? I’m gonna help you.”
“You don’t have to convince me that everything is gonna be okay, Hope,” Josie said, surprised by how calm she sounded. The panic was gone, and she knew this was the right decision. Maybe it was the bloodlust overpowering her other senses, or maybe it was just that Hope always made her feel safe.
“I know,” Hope sighed, biting her lip. Josie tracked the movement, unable to help herself. “I wish I could, though. I wish I could take it all away. The grief, the... bloodlust. I don’t want that for you, Jo.”
“I know it won’t be easy,” Josie told her, taking a deep breath as she braced herself. “But I have to do this. I owe it to Lizzie, to live for the both of us.”
Hope nodded, and Josie knew that if there was anything she understood, it was feeling responsible for someone else’s death. In that moment, she was just grateful that Hope didn’t argue with her.
Instead, she lifted her wrist to her mouth and bared her teeth, sinking the sharp canines into her own skin. Her eyes flashed gold as her wolf form took control, and they were still glowing when she offered her wrist to Josie, her blood a line of red against her pale skin.
Josie’s hunger roared to life, and she could feel the veins rising to the surface beneath her eyes, the itch in her veins unbearable. She forced herself to resist it for a moment, needing a last moment of clarity.
“We’re gonna get through this, Josie,” Hope said, determined as ever as she looked Josie directly in the eyes. “Just like we’ve gotten through everything else. Together.”
That final word echoed in the space between them, and then Josie sunk her teeth into Hope’s arm and began to feed.
✵ ✵ ✵
The shadows of the forest rose up around her, and in the distance, the twinkling lights of a building in the middle of the woods shone through the trees.
The Salvatore Boarding School.
When she heard someone approach, the hunter slid a hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, and found the first of the two syringes she kept there. One full, one empty.
A boy with pale skin and thick black hair appeared, jogging through the woods, his path illuminated only by the light of the full moon hovering above.
If he’d already turned, he might have been able to sense her waiting for him, but the moon wasn’t at it’s apex yet. Which meant wolves were still human, and vulnerable.
The hunter’s fingers closed around the syringe, and when the boy passed the tree she was crouching behind, she wasted no time before she attacked.
She jammed the syringe into the side of his neck, and before he could retaliate or call for help, she pushed the plunger down.
One shot of pure, undiluted wolfsbane and he was on the ground.
A knee pressed against his back was enough to keep him from escaping as she extracted the second, empty syringe from her pocket.
“Shhh,” she crooned into his ear, her lips inches from the skin of his neck. “I’m not going to kill you, I just need to borrow a little something.”
He went limp beneath her, but she waited a moment before she rolled him over. She crouched down, pulling back the skin of his lip to reveal a set of teeth too sharp to be entirely human, and slid the needle into his gums. As she pulled back the plunger, the werewolf venom filled the syringe. When it was done, she rose to her feet, pocketing it as she turned and left the boy lying in the dirt.
And then, Jade smiled to herself.
This was going to be fun.