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Lisa didn’t know where to go. She ran through the woods, small branches slapping her in the face. The wind was strong, howling, snaking through the maze of trees to ruffle her clothes, to chill her to the bone. She didn’t know if the things that were observing her were human or not. They had red eyes, their pupils slit. Was the growling she kept hearing from the wind? Was there something after her— other than the mass of villagers following her with torches and weapons?
“SEIZE THE WITCH!”
“WHERE THE HELL DID SHE GO?!”
Lisa heaved as she ran faster, the tears flowing down her cheeks leaving stickiness and cold behind them. She chanced a look behind her, and the soft glow of a lantern passing by sent a shot of panic through her. She picked up her speed. She didn’t want to die. Not yet. She was… she was young, and she had so many things left to do, so many things left to learn. She was going to become a scholar. She was going to learn all types of magic, to help people in need— the same people who were now chasing her through the woods, demanding her head.
The path she was running down opened suddenly on a large space, seemingly untouched by the gloominess of the forest. The grass was soft underneath her bare feet, and some flowers bloomed here and there. And right in front of her, stood the biggest mansion she had ever seen— taller even than her village lord’s townhouse.
Her eye caught movement in one of the windows, but no lights were on inside the house. It looked abandoned. She had never heard of anyone living in the woods, much less in a mansion. Where had this place sprouted from?
She heard the mob get closer, her eyes widening, turning around to gauge how far away they were. A stone hit her shoulder, pain vibrating through her arm. Fuck.
“Where did you think you were going, wench?” A man snarled, as he prepared another stone, menacingly throwing it in the air and catching it.
Lisa took a step backward. No, fuck, this couldn’t be happening. She had to get away somehow. There needed to be an escape. There always was.
A vision of fire licking at her feet, of her hands bound behind her to a stake, of her flesh melting and her bones crumpling, her mouth open in an endless scream of agony flashed in her head. Her heart was pounding at lightning speed in her chest, her tears doubling.
“Don’t you try to tempt us, sorceress,” the village cleric shouted, holding up a cross, as if she was a demon, and he was trying to hold her off. “Your pretty eyes and pretty tears have no effect on us!”
“I should’ve taken her as a slave when I had the chance,” another man grumbled, murmurs of agreement going up around him. “A woman as old as she is, unmarried. We should have known.”
Lisa’s breathing was erratic. She looked behind her, at the impossibly tall, gorgeous mansion, waiting for someone to open the door, to invite her inside, to shoo the mob back to the village. She waited for someone to rescue her.
And fortunately, someone did.
“Excuse me.” A voice resounded from somewhere to their left, and everyone’s heads turned towards its source.
Lisa blinked, the sweat on her brow starting to cool down, sending shivers down her spine.
The person in question was a young woman, maybe a couple of years younger than Lisa herself. Her blonde hair was loose on her shoulders, her eyes a brilliant, pale blue. She was wearing a cotton shirt, its sleeves loose and wide. Her trousers were tight, and black, her belt high-waisted. A silver sword rested on her hip, its handle shaped like the wing of an eagle. Lisa wracked her brain, trying to identify the design. She felt like she should know it from somewhere, but her mind was blanking from the exhaustion, and panic.
The shirt was loose and open on the woman’s chest. It was such… informal attire. Lisa knew most of the women in her village wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that. Those were men’s clothes. She tugged nervously at the hem of her own torn dress, wondering why she was focusing on that of all things. They were trying to kill her, for fuck’s sake.
The blonde deposited a basket of what looked like strawberries on the ground, walking towards them with grace and calm. The ease in which she smiled reassuringly at Lisa, drawing her sword like she had done so hundreds of times before, startled Lisa so deeply she felt faint.
“What the hell are you doing on my property?” She asked, her voice effortlessly commandeering everyone’s attention. This was an angry mob. How did this one voice contain so much authority, to have them all fall silent after a few words?
The cleric approached, his face pale, and Lisa found herself relishing in the fact that he was now the one sweating nervously, looking like was walking to his grave.
“Forgive us for the intrusion, Master Gunnhildr. We were merely following this witch, who led us here. She’s the one at fault, not us.”
Motherfucker.
Master Gunnhildr —the name caused alarm bells to ring in Lisa’s head, but she was too tired to notice— turned to look at her, her expression comforting, as if she knew exactly what was happening. A surge of hope rose in Lisa. Was this woman— Was she going to help her? Save her?
“I believe she was chased here. By you,” The blonde chuckled, and Lisa felt the bloodlust eerily hanging in the air. Was it coming from the blonde, or from the mob? Hard to tell.
It was also hard to believe that someone with such a pretty smile could exude so much violence. Curse her empathic powers. Why must she feel everything so deeply? Why did they have to hate her so much? It hurt.
The cleric gulped at the thinly veiled accusation, taking a step backward.
“Who the fuck are you?” A man from the mob asked, and Master Gunnhildr’s eyes snapped to him so sharply, Lisa recoiled in pure terror. The mastery she had over her emotions and her movements were eerily non-human. There was no way this woman was a living, breathing person.
“My name is Jean Gunnhildr, heir to the Gunnhildr Dynasty. I have allowed you to live on my property for centuries, out of the pure goodness of my heart, and now you come and squabble in my front yard?” She bared her teeth in a sneer, and Lisa stifled a terrified gasp. Two sharp, gleaming canines. A vampire.
The man who had previously asked the question gulped and went silent. In fact, everyone had gone so quiet, Lisa could hear nature buzzing around her. If she wasn’t on the verge of death, she would have stopped and appreciated how beautiful this place was.
“Our apologies, Master,” the cleric said, bowing so deeply his chin almost touched his knees. “We will not bother you any further. Let us just take the wench, and we will be on our—“
The Master interrupted him with a laugh. “You will do nothing of the sort. You will leave immediately. She will stay.”
Lisa felt the color drain from her face even further. Oh no. Goodness no. Going from ‘burned at the stake’ to ‘vampire’s dinner’ didn’t sound appealing.
“Please…” Lisa heard herself whisper, her voice pathetically soft. “Mercy, Master.”
The blonde turned to look at her, shock written all over her features. Lisa felt her knees give away, falling on the ground in front of the Vampire. Shame coursed through her. So that was what she was now? A groveling, tearful girl, begging for her life? “Please, mercy.”
Whispers from the villagers arose once more.
“Go on now,” she heard the blonde say, her voice forceful and controlled, like she was holding back an unhealthy amount of anger. “Or I won’t be as graceful.”
Lisa heard, more than saw, the villagers turn on their heels, their murmurs of disagreement loud, but cautious. ”At least this whore will get what’s coming to her.”
Lisa felt tears sting her eyes once more. She looked up at the blonde, who was watching the villagers walk away with a weary expression, her hand resting on the hilt of her now sheathed sword.
A rock whizzed past the crop of trees, hitting the blonde’s temple, drawing blood. Dark red, mesmerizing blood. Almost human.
The man’s life was over before Lisa’s heart could beat twice. She didn’t see it— she didn’t think anyone could have. The blonde disappeared into thin air, then rematerialized exactly where she had been standing, her white shirt blotched with vermillion, her sword resting as if untouched at her hip, dripping red. Screams echoed from the villagers seconds afterwards. Lisa blinked as she watched the head of the man who had wanted to take her as a slave roll on the ground, his eyes wide, his mouth open in a scream that never resounded.
The blonde looked at the villagers coldly, as if daring anyone to oppose her. Blood was still slowly oozing from her temple, and the man’s blood was drying on her bare hands. To Lisa’s horror, the blonde smirked, all teeth and fangs, raising her hand to her mouth, and slowly licked the red off her fingers.
Lisa had never seen grown men scream so loud, and run so fast. In a matter of seconds, she was left alone with the most dangerous woman she had ever known.
“Goodness, this is disgusting,” the blonde lamented after a few seconds of silence, her nose scrunching up, as she gagged, and spit the blood in her mouth. “I usually go for higher quality. This was full of cholesterol.”
Lisa blinked.
The blonde kneeled in front of her, offering her a gentle, kind smile. She was hypnotizing, her teeth and mouth stained red, yet twisted in such a sweet expression. Lisa almost dropped her guard.
“My name is Jean. What’s yours?” She asked in a soft voice, as if she didn’t want to startle the brunette, but Lisa jumped back nonetheless.
Jean winced, raising her hands in the air. “I swear to you, I won’t lay a hand on you. I just want to know if you’re alright. I swear it, on my honor.”
Lisa felt her heart calm at the smooth lilt of the woman’s voice, at the earnest honesty rippling through it.
“Lisa. I’m— My name is Lisa. I’m a—“
Jean Gunnhildr smiled. “A witch. I gathered as much. Can you stand?”
Lisa blinked once more, not fully comprehending what was happening. She tried to move, but her legs were jelly under her. She shook her head pitifully.
Jean’s smile didn’t budge, though her eyes warmed with sympathy. “Shall I carry you inside? You need some water, and maybe some rest.”
Lisa gulped. She opened her mind onto the blonde’s, latching to it, trying to pick it apart, to see if she meant her any harm. She could only feel kindness, and concern.
“I do hope you won’t have to read my mind every time to gauge my honesty,” Jean laughed, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight. Lisa was struck by her beauty, for the second time that night. Despite the blood on her lips, and gushing from her temple, she looked ethereal, like a deity descended from the heavens specifically to save her. “I make it a point to be as honest as I can.”
Lisa felt her head nod mechanically. Jean approached, her hands hovering over Lisa’s trembling frame.
She was such a gentle soul, Lisa thought absently, as the blonde carried her inside the mansion, taking special care not jostle or harm her in any way. She was a vampire, an ancient, pure evil, feared by thousands— yet, she was a hundred times nobler than any of the villagers that had tried to kill her.
For the first time in her life, Lisa closed her eyes, trusting that she will wake up warm and cared for.
—
Lisa opened her eyes to the gentle sunlight filtering through her window, and the chirping of birds, melodic and peaceful, like she hadn’t almost been killed the night before.
She groaned as she straightened in her bed, the covers soft and fluffy, unlike anything she had ever felt before. This was luxury. This was wealth, pure and unfiltered, and she had soiled it with her dirty clothes, and her bloodied body. How unseemly. She would have to apologize to the master of the house.
Her head throbbed, and she raised a hand to rest it on her forehead, blinking as she noticed the bandages wrapped carefully around it. She— Had the vampire tended to her wounds?
Her hand immediately went to her neck, exhaling a sigh of pure relief when she felt no puncture marks there. Master Jean hadn’t touched her, as she had promised.
Yes, she truly was a hundred times more honorable than the pieces of shit Lisa had to live with at the village.
Her door creaked open, and a blonde ball of fur sauntered in, hopping on the bed as if it belonged there. It probably did. Did— Was this the cat’s room? The cat had a fucking room?
Lisa could barely afford to keep herself clothed and fed.
The cat blinked at her, and meowed contently. “You’re finally awake!” It said in a cheery voice, and Lisa, poor, tired Lisa, screamed at the top of her lungs.
The cat startled, and jumped off the bed, running into the door in its panic. Lisa would’ve laughed, if the cat hadn’t fucking talked.
The master of the house stormed through the door seconds afterwards, her sword raised, a snarl on her face.
“What? What is it? Where’s the intruder?”
Lisa blinked. What— Was this some sort of weird dream? Had she knocked herself out with the fumes of a potion she was making? Yes, this was probably it. There was no way in hell the events of the last twenty-four hours were real.
“Master! Master!” The cat whined from its place on the floor, its paws rubbing its head pitifully. “She screamed at me and I ran into the door!”
Jean blinked, then huffed out a small laugh, sheathing her sword, and bent down to pick up the kitten. It meowed, a little whine of a sound, and Jean petted it gently, scratching behind its ears.
“Oh goodness, Klee did a number on you, didn’t she?” She asked Lisa, her eyes sparkling with laughter. She was wearing the same clothing as yesterday, the loose white shirt with the high belt and tight trousers, her hair flowing over her shoulders. What a peculiar sense of fashion. Lisa was still struggling with the image of her, this free-spirited, yet controlled storm of a woman, who wore clothes that could bring a blush to any woman’s face, and whose hair was wild yet so artfully perfect, contrasting with the bun or ponytail women usually sported. Lisa’s village wasn’t the most conservative, but she knew that women wore dresses, and kept their hair out of their faces. Whatever the blonde had going on was anything but that.
Also, had the cat spoken again, or was Lisa hallucinating?
“I’m so terribly sorry. I told her to leave you alone, as to not startle you, but she’s a curious little thing, and it has just been so long since we’ve had company,” Jean continued, the cat purring contently in her arms.
“Y—You’re not gonna eat me?” Lisa was mortified that this was the first thing that came out of her mouth, her cheeks going red, her hand shooting up to her mouth.
Jean blinked, then laughed easily, passing a hand through her bangs. Lisa noticed bandages wrapped around her forehead, and vaguely remembered a stone thrown, and a man decapitated with inhuman speed and finesse. This woman— Thing— Person— Creature was dangerous.
“Is that what you think we do? You told me you were a witch. I thought you would be more knowledgeable than that.”
Lisa blinked, and the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them, her ego slightly bruised. “You’re the one who decapitated a man, and licked his blood off your hands yesterday.”
To Lisa’s utter surprise, Jean blinked, and burst out into laughter. “You’re a riot, Lisa,” she breathed, as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Yes, I do drink blood— I don’t eat people. That’s disgusting. Human flesh tastes horrible.”
“That’s not terribly reassuring,” Lisa mumbled, and Jean smiled that easy smile again. Lisa was starting to calm down, the shock wearing off, and with the settling of her racing heart came the realization that she had been saved by a woman, who was witty and funny, and looked probably just like Heaven felt.
Jean sat at the foot of Lisa’s bed, making sure to leave enough distance between them, and the witch found herself melting at the chivalry.
“I did promise not to touch you, didn’t I?” She told her, her eyes impossibly soft and comforting. “You’re under my protection, Lisa. Nothing will happen to you as long as you’re here.”
Lisa felt warmth spread through her chest at the words. Protection. Safety. What truly foreign concepts to her. Yet, looking at the blonde, at her slightly childish face, her beautiful features, her earnestness shining in her eyes, she couldn’t help but trust her fully.
—
“I want you to teach me more magic,” Lisa said one day, as she was having dinner with Jean. She had been living in the mansion for three weeks now, getting to know every nook and cranny of the place, and of its owner.
Jean swirled the wine in her glass, a slight blush on her cheeks. She always got red after drinking wine, Lisa had noticed, her heart fond.
“Gladly,” she answered easily, looking at Lisa with a smile. “I see you’ve found the library.”
Lisa nodded, dropping her fork and knife, all but forgetting the steak she was eating. “Yes, and it’s magnificent! Have you read all of those books?”
Jean nodded, chuckling softly. “Every single last one.”
The resolute look on Lisa’s face couldn’t be swayed. “Teach me. Please.”
Jean took a gulp of her wine, the flush of her cheeks spreading. Lisa was suddenly aware of the curve of her neck, the cut of her jaw, of the delicate fluttering of her lashes.
“Well, how can I refuse, when you ask like that?” The look in her eyes was unmistakably lust, and Lisa flamed at the realization.
The blonde was attractive, Lisa had thought so since day one. She was considerate, and gentle, kind in a way Lisa had never experienced before. She lived by herself in these woods, with only Klee the kitten for company, in a mansion too big, too silent to be comfortable. Her laugh made butterflies flutter in Lisa’s stomach, and the sight of her fangs, gleaming against the set of her teeth, sent shivers down Lisa’s spine.
How would they feel, buried in her neck, as Jean’s fingers—
“Lisa? Are you well? You look like you’re choking.”
Lisa blinked, her body uncomfortably hot, the piercing gaze of the woman in front of her absolutely not helping.
She fled the dinner table before she could utter something they would both regret.
—
One evening, as Lisa was strolling the grounds of the mansion she had come to know so well, she found Jean sitting on the railing of the balcony of an empty room, her legs swinging back and forth over a four-story drop.
She knocked on the door, as to not startle her —she didn’t want her to fall to her death, if such a thing was possible for someone like her— but she knew Jean had heard her long before. Her senses were sharper than a human’s, Lisa had read in one of the books in the Library.
“You okay there?” She asked, approaching the blonde, and leaned over the railing next to her. The sky above them was sparkling with thousands of stars, more prominent than Lisa had ever seen from her village. She had never stopped to appreciate the beauty of the night sky, she realized, not since her arrival at the mansion three months ago.
Jean hummed, taking a swing from a flask Lisa hadn’t noticed before. She frowned. It was unlike Jean to drink by herself like that. She usually only indulged in a glass of red during dinner, but that was the extent of her relationship with alcohol. So why was she sitting by herself so gloomily, drinking like a depressed middle-aged man at a tavern?
“Jean?” Lisa tried again, and Jean finally turned to look at her, her face pale and unwell, bags rimming her eyes. A silent gasp slipped past Lisa’s lips. “W—What happened? Are you alright?” Her hand shot up to grip the blonde’s before she could stop it, and to her surprise, Jean entwined their fingers together.
“I’m in withdrawal,” Jean laughed, a dark, sardonic sound that made Lisa shiver.
Withdrawal? Did Jean mean—
“What—“ she took a breath, to steady her throbbing heart. “What do you mean?”
Jean’s eyes softened as they looked at her, like they usually did, and Lisa reddened under her gaze. It held only a fraction of the passion it usually did, what with Jean’s seeming exhaustion, but it affected Lisa just the same.
“I… I felt uncomfortable, drinking human blood while you’re— well, I thought it would terrify you. So, I stopped. It’s apparently easier said than done,” she chuckled, then sighed tiredly, looking up at the night sky.
The moonlight reflected over her eyes, just as pale as their blue, and made her hair shine like the sun. Lisa suddenly understood why vampires were called creatures of the night— because the sun wouldn’t dream of enhancing such beauty.
“Is… Are you going to die?“
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. Animal blood should do it,” Jean said, her eyes still on the sky above them.
Lisa’s eyes welled up with tears. “You—You're doing this for me?”
Jean blinked, confusion written all over her face. “Well, yes. I suppose it is pretty disturbing to see someone drink blood, especially human blood, so—“
Lisa grabbed the collar of that white shirt she loved so much, and smashed her lips to Jean’s, finally melting into what she had wanted to do for weeks.
Jean whimpered into the kiss, her eyes fluttering closed, a sigh escaping her, before she pushed Lisa away, the bliss on her face replaced by pure panic.
“NO! No, this— I don’t want you to think I’m doing this as a payment or, like, to force you to have— gods, no, I’m—“
Lisa laughed at the flustered rambling of such a dignified woman. She gestured at Jean to turn around, and the blonde obliged, sitting on the railing facing Lisa, her face still flaming hot.
Lisa gently parted Jean’s legs, and stood between them, her hands resting on the naked skin peaking underneath blouse, which she had wanted to kiss and lick since she first saw it, all those weeks ago.
“You’re one of a kind, Jean Gunnhildr,” she whispered, her hands slipping under the blonde’s shirt, their lips meeting in the middle, fitting together perfectly.
That night, as they laid tangled together under the sheets of Jean’s bed, Lisa wondered how she had held herself off for so long.
Because, as she nuzzled closer into the blonde hair resting against her cheek, she realized that Jean hadn’t only been her savior— but her salvation.