Chapter 1: Burning Mansion

[Stella]

I stood in front of the aged window, dusk motes twinkling in the sun as I ran my rag along the edges, cleaning thoroughly.

The only thing scarier than vampires and half-bloods were the empty mansions in the city that yawned with old age—houses with heavy curtains always drawn shut over tall windows.

"Stella!" someone screeched.

I gasped, slipping on the rug beneath my feet and landing flat on my backside.

"Ouch," I muttered.

"Serves you right for standing around,” the voice growled behind me. “Hurry up with cleaning this room and meet us out front. Honestly, it's just one lousy library. How slow can you be?"

Before I could turn, the speaker was gone.

"She's over there spacing off,” I heard someone say in the hall. “She's, like, the most useless cleaner in the world."

I stood to my feet and walked to the door.

"I heard that," I replied firmly. "Haven't I already done the kitchen, as assigned?"

"We wanted you to hear it, loser. Don't tell us what you've done. We don’t care. Just finish the new task," one of them screamed back.

I had no reply and retreated back into the library to get back to my dusting.

New Rome had far too many of these buildings—mansions that towered over their estates and housed rich old people. They were a far cry from the bustling town itself.

Bustling, indeed—the city was full of half-blood vampires, more like, most of them rich and self-absorbed. Then there were those of us in the poor underbelly of the city who cleaned up the mess, brushing away the dust from their decadent lives.

I was technically a half-blood, or so I’d been told. I never knew my mother, was raised among my father’s human family, and I had no special powers or discernable vampire features to speak of. As far as I was concerned, I might as well be human.

Besides, I hated the half-blood thugs who treated New Rome like their playground. Nobody could stop them or stand up to them; those who tried always disappeared or ended up dead. I had to desire to be counted among them.

And so, I kept my heritage a secret from everyone and lived my life as a human. I was happier that way.

I sighed and got back to work, muttering my annoyance at having to work with bullies. At least when I got home, my roommate Florence and I could joke about it all.

“Stella, are you coming? Come on. I have things to do,” a voice boomed.

“Maybe I’d have been faster if you didn’t give me so much to do?!” I spit out, but that only got dust into my mouth. I broke down coughing and gagging, my eyes red and my hands scratching at my throat.

I got up and scrambled through the door and down the corridor in search of the bathroom. Once there, I used the faucet to wash my face and take the dust out of my eyes.

I stared at my reflection. Long, curly brunette hair framed my oval face and fell down to the small of my back. I’d always thought my face was a bit regular, but my eyes, they were a dazzling emerald under full brows. They blinked above a straight-cut nose and a little chin.

“Raise your chin, Stella,” Dad always said. But, for a long time, I couldn’t.

That was why I had to leave. I could not stay in this town where the half-blood gangs made us live in terror. There was a better life for me outside New Rome, and I would save up till I got it.

Pushing the thought away, I noticed that the house had been silent for a while.

I walked down the winding central staircase, holding on to the banister. I got to the dining room and found it empty. I walked out the front door and found nobody there, either.

I stared at the empty driveway, my eyes wide and my hands trembling.

They’d left without me!

The sound of a rumbling engine came to my ears. I could see a car racing down the driveway. Someone whooped from the car and the engine gunned even more, tearing through the silence.

“That’s not them!” I muttered to myself and ran back into the house, slipping behind the nearest doorway.

It could be half-bloods. If they found me here alone, I was toast.

The car raced up to the end of the driveway and made a sharp turn, rubber screeching and the passengers whooping at the top of their voices.

“Let’s burn down some f*cking purebloods!!” one screamed, confirming my fears. Half-bloods hated purebloods as much as humans feared them.

I stared from a window, my eyes widening at the sight of them and all the hairs on my neck standing up. I could hear my heart pounding away in my chest. It was so loud, that I thought they must be able to hear it.

One of the half-bloods turned toward the window and stared right at me.

I half screamed, raising a hand to cover my mouth as I stumbled back and landed smack on the floor. My eyes were shaking, and my hands were tight against my mouth.

“Did you hear something?” one said to the other.

“Are you losing your nerve?” the other asked and they all laughed at him. They brought out bottles with cloth hanging out of them.

“Heavens, are those Molotov cocktails?” I whispered in fear, my feet pushing me back as I tried to scramble away.

The first one broke through the window and fell onto the rug. Then it went off in a blast of fire.

I shrieked, trying to get away through the door behind me. But another flew into my path, blocking off my retreat as it went off in flames.

Another bottle spiraled in, and the shattering glass exploded outwards and sliced through my hand. I screamed in pain, my heart screaming along with me.

I couldn’t breathe as smoke filled the room. I held my sleeve to my nose with my other hand, coughing as I searched for an exit.

I rushed toward the front door, blood dripping from my hand, and opened it just as one of the half-bloods stepped in.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” he asked, licking his lips.

I stared at him, my whole body shaking, as I took several steps back. He followed me in, not minding the flames. His eyes shifted from their original black to a reddish, fiery haze.

“Such a nice human girl… It would be a waste not to suck you dry,” he said with a laugh, advancing.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind me: “It would be in your best interest to run.”

The half-blood and I both jerked around.

There was someone else in the room. He was bigger than the half-blood—much bigger—but it wasn’t just his size. It was the way he moved, the aura he gave off. I felt like I stood before a tiger waiting to pounce, death locked in a bottle and just waiting to be opened. He had the air of an elite swordsman who you barely saw draw his blade—and then you saw nothing ever again.

Veins throbbed on the half-blood’s face, his eyes burning hot in anger. “F’king bastard!” he sneered, and charged, moving so fast that my eyes could barely follow him.

Even so, the newcomer simply sidestepped him and flung out a hand, catching the half-blood in the back of the head and sending him spiraling to the ground in a dead faint.

Another half-blood had made it through the door and stood there taking in the scene.

“You scum!” he screamed, pulling out a gun.

The sound of the gun going off in the house tore through my ears.

I screamed, inhaling more smoke. I glanced over, sure I would see the man dead on the floor.

But he was moving. The shots kept going off, but he evaded all of them. He moved with no wasted motion, simply stepping to the right or bending his upper body away— and all the while he was advancing, until he was right in front of the shooter.

“That was extremely annoying,” he growled to the half-blood, who looked at him with shaky eyes.

“You shouldn’t have come to my home,” the man added.

He reared up to his full height and stared down at the half-blood. Then he took the hand holding the gun and bent it in the opposite direction.

Fear strummed the strings of my heart as the half-blood screamed. He’d come for me next. I was in his home, too.

The half-blood was flying through the air and out the front door.

The smoke was too much for me. I was fading away, my vision going back.

“Take her upstairs, make sure she’s comfortable,” I heard the man say.

‘No, I’m sorry, let me go,’ I thought in fear before I slipped into unconsciousness.