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Laura liked being a vampire, for the most part. She would swear that she did. Endless opportunity to learn about the world around her, to travel, to meet new people, it was a good deal. It was just – three hundred years of not being in control of your own life got old (pun not intended). Her 'mother' had allowed her to see the world once upon a time, if only she fulfilled her obligation every twenty years.
But what an obligation. Dozens of girls, all disappeared into the clutches of her mother over the decades and centuries. Laura assumed they were dead. She had tried, at first, to deny her mother, having learned quickly that whatever her mother desired would never be healthful for anyone else. But swift and severe punishment had pushed Laura into obedience. Nine times, Laura dutifully delivered the required girls to her mother. One hundred and eighty years of blindly doing what she was told, never looking for answers despite her better judgment.
Her job was ridiculously easy. Laura was tiny. Threatening, she would never be. It was simple to lure girls in with her natural exuberance and semi-awkward charm. The best compliment she could hope for most of the time was that she was cute. It made her a favorite of her mother's for the whole bait and lure girls into the death trap … thing. But nine successful snares in, Laura made a mistake.
She fell in love.
She had been staying with a Jewish family whose daughter was their latest target. Carmel. She was gorgeous, not unlike the paradise her name described. Their second meeting and Laura was done for. It didn't take any work to seduce Carmel, who was more than willing, and they began to meet in secret in the dead of night. And for the first time in nearly two centuries, Laura wanted to rebel against her mother.
She spent almost a month trying to get Carmel to run away with her without revealing to Carmel her true nature. Laura was desperate to get away before her mother discovered them, tired of leading girls to their deaths. Carmel would not be the next in a long line.
It took some convincing, but eventually, Carmel agreed to meet her outside the manor at midnight that night so they could run away together. Laura had money saved from her centuries of living and they could disappear forever. She would try to find a way to tell Carmel the truth about herself at some later date, but right then, she just wanted to get Carmel away from danger. Laura should have known they'd be doomed from the start.
Carmel didn't show at their agreed to meeting site. Her mother did.
Immediately understanding what had happened, Laura tried to make a run for it, but her escape was cut off by another of her mother's minions.
“Dear one, what did you do?” her mother's smooth voice washed over her, making Laura shudder.
“Mother,” she greeted with clenched teeth. “What are you doing here?” Two more of her cronies surrounded Laura on either side.
“I think we both know, dear. You tried to take something that belongs to me.”
“Carmel doesn't belong to anyone but herself,” Laura spat. “Why do you want her? What do you do to those girls?”
“Why would I reward disobedience?” her mother asked sweetly, all the more frightening for it. “Do as your told, mein liebling, and you will be blessed.”
“Well, I'm sorry, Mother,” Laura jabbed back, “but I don't blindly follow like the rest of your pets. I don't want to be blessed at the cost of innocent lives.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, Laura darling. I had so hoped we could settle this peacefully,” her mother replied with regret in her voice.
Laura prepared herself for a fight to the death, but was surprised when no one moved to attack her. Instead, one more of her mother's vampires appeared, dragging a squirming Carmel with him. “Carm!” Laura's voice broke out against her will. She stepped toward her, but Carmel simultaneously cringed away from her and the boy holding her arm so tightly.
“You! You're a monster!” she accused Laura, trying in vain to get the teenaged-looking vampire to let go of her. “Your mother told me what you are. I know!”
Laura flinched at Carmel's harsh words. She had hoped to ease her love into the knowledge of her impossible existence, but once again, her mother had beaten her to the punch. “Carm, I can explain,” she tried.
“NO! You're all monsters – all of you!”
“Do you see what you've done, Laura?” her mother asked. Laura turned tortured eyes to her.
“Please. Just let her go,” she begged. “I'll do anything you want. Just let her go.”
“And what kind of example would that set for your brothers and sisters?” the older vampire asked. “Rebellion must be swiftly stifled, it's aggressors silenced, before bad seeds can take root.”
“Punish me all you want,” Laura tried once more. “But please don't hurt her.”
“Affection for a mortal invites weakness into an immortal's soul,” her mother advised. “I will not have that weakness spread to any more of my children.” Before Laura could blink, her mother was in front of her, her hand crushing Laura's throat. Laura choked, struggling, but her mother held firm. “And I will not have any of my children sowing insurrection amongst the others.” A vicious blow to the head, and Laura was unconscious.
She woke up an unknown amount of time later. “Carmel!” she shouted, trying to leap to her feet, but she was blocked, hitting her head on something hard and flat. Laura flung her arms out, only to be met by boards on all sides. Cracks in the boards let in air and allowed Laura to see tiny strips of the night sky.
She was in a coffin.
“Mother! Mother, let me out! Please!” she screamed, panicked. “I'm sorry!”
“Your apology is accepted, dear one,” her mother's voice came back muffled, “but I'm afraid it came a bit late. But do not fret. I'm leaving you a little gift to get you by.”
Gift? Laura wondered, trying to calm down her racing mind to think of an escape.
“No, no, please!” a hysterical voice pleaded from above.
“Carmel!”
“Ple - !” Carmel cut off with a scream, and then blood rained down on Laura. She drowned in the stuff, and violently tried to break herself out, knowing that it was Carmel's blood. Her mother's 'present'.
“Carmel!” More blood – too much for one human, especially one small like Carmel, to survive. It ran over Laura's skin, into her mouth, nose, ears. The blood filled the bottom of the small coffin, choking Laura. She hissed and screamed as she tried to escape, but she was stuck and there was only silence above her. Until dirt began falling onto the wooden boards.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Laura wrenched herself out of her thoughts, taking deep, unnecessary breaths to calm the shaking in her hands. She turned her gaze back up to the stars as she tried to get herself under control. She wasn't in the coffin. She had escaped nearly seventy years ago. But the decades of being trapped still haunted her. As did Carmel's screams.
No. She wasn't going there. She had a new girl to meet, to bait, to lure, to lead to her death. Then she would be free for another twenty years.
The fact that the newest victim's name was so close to Carmel's did not escape Laura's notice. She knew that it was a taunt from her mother, daring her to defy the older vampire again. She wouldn't. Laura didn't want to go back into that box ever again, and she didn't think any girl would ever be enough to make her blatantly go against her mother again. Sure, she quietly tried to get her targets to run away and be safe, but it didn't always work, which kept her mother's suspicions low and Laura safe. This – she checked the name – Carmilla was her mother trying to get Laura to out herself so she could punish her again. Laura wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. She took a deep breath and opened the door to the dorm room.
A girl with dark hair turned around from writing a paper at her computer at a desk by the window. “Who are you?” she asked, surprised at her intrusion.
“Laura. I'm your new roommate,” the vampire introduced herself.
Carmilla's eyebrows furrowed. “What happened to party animal Betty?” she asked, jerking her head over at an empty bed covered in clothes and messy sheets.
Laura shrugged. “I was just told that this was my new room.”
“Okay,” Carmilla accepted, not appearing too worried. “Well, set your stuff down anywhere. My bed's on your right,” she said, nodding over at the black comforter accompanied by a black pillow. Laura was willing to bet there were black sheets under there too. “I guess you can just take Betty's spot, sweetheart.”
Laura stared at the younger girl. “Sweetheart?” she asked, flummoxed.
Carmilla smirked. “Cat got your tongue, sundance?”
If only, Laura muttered to herself. “It's Laura,” she corrected.
“Whatever, cutie.”
“Laura.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Are you a vampire?” Carmilla asked suddenly one day a month after Laura moved in just as Laura returned from her Intro to Journalism class.
“W – W – What?” Laura stuttered.
Carmilla shrugged. “There's blood in a soy milk container in the fridge, and sweetheart, if you're human, you're the most vanilla one I've ever met, and that wouldn't be your idea of a good prank. That'd be more along my lines. Which leads back to my question. Because then at least there'd be a point to the blood being in our fridge,” she drawled, lounging back on Laura's pillow.
“Um,” Laura hesitated. “Why were you snooping around in my stuff?” Good comeback, Laur, she chastised herself.
Carmilla smirked. “I was out of coffee.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Of course you were. God. I'm a vampire and I have better manners than you. And I'm neater.” She froze. Carmilla did too.
“Oh my God. I'm right?” the nineteen year old asked, astounded. “Little tiny cutie's a vampire?”
“Watch who you call 'cutie', mortal,” Laura said, trying to sound imperious.
Carmilla grinned. “That wasn't scary at all, cupcake,” she teased. “Maybe you should try again.”
Laura sighed. “What's the point?” she wondered aloud. “No one ever thinks I'm frightening.”
“I can pretend, if you want,” Carmilla offered, sounding almost sincere for once.
It made Laura smile, which had been Carmilla's aim. “No, whatever. I'll manage.”
“So how old are you?” Carmilla asked.
“You know that's a very rude question, right?” Laura sat on the edge of Carmilla's bed, since hers was occupied, and despite the teenager's apparent calm about her immortality, there was no way Carmilla would want Laura anywhere near her now.
Carmilla wasn't having any of that. She grabbed Laura's yellow pillow that she was constantly stealing – to Laura's chagrin – and settled next to Laura on her own bed, laying down next to the older girl. “I'm a curious girl,” she answered.
“No you're not,” Laura denied. “You're pretty apathetic, if you don't mind me saying.”
“Okay, true,” Carmilla admitted. “But I'm curious about you.”
“You're not – scared of me?” Laura asked, confused. “I'm a vampire. I'm stronger, faster, more animalistic than anyone you will ever meet. I'm the monster from your stories.”
Carmilla glanced up at her from where she lay on her back. “Unless you've been employing a different personality than your own the past month, which I highly doubt since you seemed genuinely pissed off that I left hair in the shower and you didn't eat me for it, I figure I'm still pretty safe where you're concerned. As for the scary ass Dean, that remains to be seen.”
“At least you have some sense,” Laura grumbled. “Should make keeping you away from her a tiny bit easier.”
“Wait. You've been protecting me from her?” Carmilla asked, dumbfounded.
“Duh. What do you think that was for?” Laura waved at the bat wing charm hanging around Carmilla's wrist.
The teen held it up, inspecting it. “I thought it was just a weird superstition about keeping bad dreams away that you had.”
“And you wore it anyways?”
Carmilla shrugged. “You gave it to me.”
Laura stared at her, trying to figure out what that meant. She never knew what Carmilla was talking about. God, girls were usually so easy for Laura to understand. But Carmilla was a mystery. Maybe that was why she was so enamored with the younger girl. “Well, no. It's not a weird superstition thing. It helps with the bad dreams, yes. The ones that my mother sends you. But it also makes it extremely unpleasant for a vampire to touch the person wearing the charm,” Laura explained. Carmilla immediately began working to take the charm off. “What are you doing?”
“What's it look like?” Carmilla's voice was muffled as she worked at the strap with her teeth. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me.”
Strong hands gripped Carmilla's wrists, moving them away from the charm. “I've been around you so much, I'm practically immune to it,” Laura told her. “Besides, I'd rather you safe than me having warm cozy feelings.”
“Warm feelings?” Carmilla asked with a teasing grin.
Laura groaned and dropped down to lay beside Carmilla with her eyes shut, mortified. “Shut up,” she grumbled. “I am a centuries old vampire and I will not be treated this way.”
“No, it was cute!” Carmilla protested. “You get that bunched up look on your face whenever you're upset or thinking really hard about something. I like it.”
“What do you mean?”
Carmilla rolled her eyes. “You know, for a three hundred and something year old vampire, as I just found out, you really are slow to the draw. I like you.”
“Yeah, well, I like you too?” Laura replied with a quizzical frown.
“No,” Carmilla denied. “I like you. Have done since you walked into my room and got flustered when I called you sweetheart. Worst crush ever, by the way.”
Laura's eyes widened when she finally understood. “Oh.”
“That's all you have to say? 'Oh'?” Carmilla complained. “I just did the equivalent of laying my heart out for you to trample on – if you want to be cliché; you seem like a cliché person – and all you have to say is 'oh'?”
“I'm a monster, Carm,” Laura protested, the nickname slipping out without her noticing. “I've killed people. A lot of people. Sometimes on accident because I needed to eat, sometimes not such an accident. That's another thing. I drink blood. I need to. And I've slept with lots of girls over the centuries and led a lot of them to their deaths.”
“I've slept with a lot of girls too,” Carmilla said with a shrug. “Not as many as you have, I'm sure, but I'm no virgin. Which kind of makes me wonder why your mother wants me in the first place, but that's a whole other conversation.”
“Probably because I like you. It's to punish me for betraying her. What?”
Carmilla was grinning at her. “You like me,” she drawled. “You said it. And you called me Carm, which you've never done before.”
“Well,” Laura tried to backtrack. “That was an accident. When did I say Carm? I meant to say Carmi -” She was cut off by Carmilla's lips being pressed to hers. Laura grunted at the sudden assault and tensed before she realized that this was Carmilla that was kissing her. The young, often sullen, annoying, messy, damaged, wise beyond her years girl that Laura had liked since her first utterance of 'sweetheart'. The girl that hadn't run away screaming when she learned Laura's true nature, unlike the girl so long ago that Laura had once loved.
Laura relaxed and kissed Carmilla back, making the younger girl grin around her lips. Growling, she pushed Carmilla back onto the bed. Carmilla emitted a squeak, a sound Laura had never heard from her before. She pulled away, grinning down at Carmilla, who glared up at her. “You should make that noise again.”
“Shut up, you stupid vampire,” Carmilla retorted.
“No really, it was cute,” Laura teased.
“I said -”
This time, it was Laura that did the interrupting with her lips. “I know, I know,” she mumbled. “Shut up.”
“I changed my mind. Best crush ever,” Carmilla corrected herself from earlier.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Laura learned a lot about Carmilla over the next week, and vice versa, now that they understood each other better. The kisses in between conversations helped. Laura told the teen about her life as a human in the seventeenth century, how it ended, and how it began anew. She told her bits about Carmel – Carmilla was intrigued by their similarities – but avoided the topic for the most part except to tell Carmilla that it was how she came to be entrapped in a coffin for nearly seventy years. She warned Carmilla about her mother, whose newest fancy was occupying the position as Dean of Student Affairs with a side career in stealing young girls every two decades.
“Is that why you started staying with me?” Carmilla asked.
Laura nodded, ashamed. “And your other roommate. It's why she disappeared. I tried to get her to run away, but she was too far gone already. Plus, she was a little too into guys for me to be any help.”
“Well, I've never liked a boy in my life,” Carmilla said with a smirk. Laura gave her an answering grin before looking away quickly. She was a monster. Carmilla may have a crush on her, but someday she would come to her senses and run away.
Laura also learned about Carmilla's life before Silas. About how her parents had been killed when she was a child, how her foster mother was abusive. “Our mothers should get together and exchange notes,” Laura quipped, making Carmilla smile.
Carmilla told Laura about how she ran away from the system when she was eighteen, traveling around Europe on her own for a year, homeless but enjoying herself. She had received the offer of admission to Silas out of the blue, along with a scholarship paying for the entirety of her tuition, and figured why not? “That was probably just a sham, huh?” Carmilla asked.
“More of a lure,” Laura replied, shrugging. “Congratulations, you fell for it.”
“Well, you ended up as my roommate, so, not a bad lure,” the teenager said with a smile.
Laura rolled her eyes. She couldn't get used to this. It wouldn't last forever. But she couldn't help wanting to be around Carmilla all the time. “Why philosophy?” she asked. The major fit Carmilla's personality perfectly, but she wondered how the girl had discovered it.
“No matter what we do, what we accomplish, we're all so small in the grand scheme of the universe,” Carmilla explained. “And I don't know, I guess I just like that idea. And what it means for our lives and how we live them.”
“That's why I like the stars,” Laura admitted. “Apart from the fact that they help me remember that I'm not in that coffin. But I always liked the thought that no matter how much we may be hurting down here, or how happy, none of that sadness or joy will ever touch them. They'll just stay up there, perfect and unchanging.”
“Exactly,” Carmilla said with a grin. “You should have been a philosophy major.”
“Been there, done that. I like figuring things out. I was always a big talker, and I liked people.”
“So, journalism?”
“You get to write about people. People just doing ordinary things.” Carmilla grinned. “I like it, don't knock it,” Laura defended her major.
Carmilla held up her hands in surrender. “No, no, that's not what I'm doing. It's just – Laura, the vampire, is a journalism major. I can just see you running a blog someday. Or a vlog, as the kids say these days.”
Laura shut her up with a kiss, which Carmilla returned with an enthusiasm she rarely showed with anything else. “We have to figure out what to do about your mom,” Carmilla mumbled when they stopped for air.
“We are doing nothing. It's hopeless. The most I can do is try to keep her distracted and away from you,” Laura denied.
“What happened? You're usually the upbeat one,” Carmilla wondered. “And I'm not just going to sit around and wait for my fate to be decided for me. I had enough of that from the system. Never worked out well for me.” Carmilla grew quiet, lost in thoughts of the past.
Laura watched her for a moment. “I'm scared of thunderstorms,” she said suddenly, drawing Carmilla back to her.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“Thunderstorms. I'm terrified of them. Also fireworks, crowds, the dark, and small spaces – especially elevators,” Laura rattled off. “Being in that coffin for so long, I went a little insane. Most of my senses had basically shut off because I was so malnourished. I couldn't really see, smell, or hear. But then the world around me exploded, and all of a sudden, I was free. I crawled through the dirt and rubble onto solid ground and breathed for the first time in decades. But all I could smell was blood. There were bodies everywhere, and the ground was full of craters. I'd been freed into a war zone. I was so confused, but there were still bombs dropping, and I was blown off my feet more than once. I was nearly deaf still, but no one could miss hearing those bombs. Eventually, they stopped, and I crawled to a body and began drinking. I must have drained nearly everyone on that field before I felt like a thinking creature again. My sense returned to normal eventually. I found out later that it was 1944, in the middle of Germany. World War II. So – I hate thunderstorms. And, I'm rambling.” She stopped.
Carmilla had taken Laura's hand at some point while she was speaking. She hadn't noticed. Carmilla squeezed her hand when she finished. “You didn't have to tell me that,” she said quietly. Sincerely. Gazing at her with a soft look in her eyes that Laura hadn't seen before. But it wasn't pity.
“You went somewhere else,” Laura explained. “Somewhere that frightened you. I'm not a psych major, but I thought if I told you something that frightened me, you might come back.”
Carmilla gave her a small smile. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it entirely. “For trusting me.”
Laura shrugged. “You shouldn't trust me, but you do. The least I can do is return the favor.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A few days later, one of Carmilla's friends – the science-y one, Lafontaine – found a book in the library that potentially explained what Laura's mother wanted with the girls. The only problem was that it was written in Sumerian. “How do we read Sumerian?” Lafontaine asked.
Laura sighed. “Give it here,” she ordered.
Carmilla promptly handed it over. “You read Sumerian?” she asked, surprised.
“Three hundred years old,” Laura reminded her. “Lots of time to learn things. Also, my mother's the head of some cult. Ancient languages seemed like a useful pastime. I haven't read it in over a century, but I should still remember some of it.” Carmilla smirked and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Laura shot a worried glance at Lafontaine, but they only grinned knowingly. Laura rolled her eyes and buried her head in the book, nudging Carmilla in retribution, which only made the girl laugh lowly.
Laura loved Carmilla's laugh. She hardly ever got to hear it, so it was a big deal when Carmilla let it out. She tried not to call attention to it, not wanting to embarrass Carmilla. She might never get to hear it again. “So, what do you think of me, Laf?” she asked instead.
“Well, it's so interesting,” Laf began excitedly. “You being a vampire. Like, you still eat food, but how do you digest it? And you still menstruate, even though you're technically dead, so can you have children?”
“I'm never getting close enough to a guy to find out, Laf,” Laura interrupted them quickly. “Not even for you.” Carmilla laughed again and kissed her cheek, making Laura grin.
“Right,” Lafontaine said sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Don't worry about it. It's good to be curious. Unlike this one.” Laura nodded at Carmilla.
“I'm looking at the Sumerian nonsense, aren't I?” Carmilla drawled. “That counts for something.”
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Of course the Blade of Hastur was the only option. And of course it was buried thousands of feet below the surface of the ocean in some underwater cave. It also had the added bonus of consuming the soul of whoever wielded it, but Laura kept that part to herself. Carmilla had some misguided notion about protecting Laura. She would never let the vampire go get it if she knew it would kill her.
But all of that took a backseat when Laura's mother possessed Carmilla through a necklace she had switched out with one of Carmilla's own identical pieces. When Laura tried to take it off, it burned her hands, and then Carmilla collapsed on top of her computer, where she had been busy Skyping her foster brother. They had signed off, but the camera was still running.
“Carm. Carm!” Laura yelled, not daring to touch her again. “No, no, no, Carm!”
Carmilla slowly stood up, turning to face Laura. “Hello, dear one.”
Laura glared at Carmilla's body, but couldn't hold it. She glanced down. “What do you want, Mother?” she asked lowly, not meeting her gaze.
“Imagine my disappointment, darling, when William tells me that not only are you associating too much with your target, but that you are actively keeping him away from her.”
Carmilla's face grimaced at the charm around her wrist. “It makes possession a terribly unpleasant experience, Laura dear. Not good for anyone.” She gingerly picked up the bat wing and tore it from Carmilla's wrist, breathing a sigh of relief once it was gone. “That's better. Don't you think, Laura?”
Laura wanted to protest, but as always happened when she was around her mother, she was frozen. Barely able to speak, unable to move, practically wilting in her mother's presence and terrified that she'd get put back underground. “What do you want from me?” she asked instead, trying to sound confident but only managing cowed.
“It's been made clear to me that you've become attached to this – mortal. I'd thought you'd learned from your mistakes last time, but old habits die hard, I suppose. I know all about your little plan. What you haven't told them.” Her mother gave her a look of sincere pity, which made Laura flinch. “You know the Blade of Hastur will kill you. And I know you'll never use it. But they don't know that. This – Carmilla – believes in you. Like she's never trusted anyone in her life. I can feel it. She thinks you can best me.”
Laura cringed at the words. They were screwed. She sat down on the bed, hands defeatedly resting in her lap.
“Don't you see that it's all pointless, dear?” Carmilla's voice gloated over Laura. She clenched her fists uselessly, trying to contain her anger. Carmilla was innocent. Well, strictly speaking, she probably wasn't, but in this matter, she definitely was. Laura could not take her anger at her mother out on Carmilla's body. Otherwise this entire endeavor would have been for nothing.
“Now, since you seem bound and determined to keep your little plaything, I'll offer you an exchange.”
Laura's head shot up as the door opened. Will came in, dragging Lafontaine with him. They were struggling, trying to throw him off, but Will was too strong. “They aren't the target,” Laura protested.
“But that is the offer, dear one,” her mother said. Laura flinched at the honey sweet yet shrewd tone that didn't fit Carmilla at all. “The biology major, for this one. With the added stipulation that you keep this young thing from investigating any further into our dealings.” She shrugged. “Otherwise, I'll just take this charming little body and waltz it right out this door and into the sacrifice. It makes no difference to me.”
Laura was torn. She couldn't lose someone else, but she couldn't just let them take Lafontaine away. Laf was innocent. They weren't even supposed to be involved.
“I'll be fine,” Laf's voice broke in suddenly. Laura's eyes snapped up to hers. Laf just nodded, looking determined. “Take the deal. Figure out something else.” Laura started shaking her head. “Just do it,” Laf insisted. “Don't let her have Carmilla.”
Laura looked down at her fingers, wringing her hands in indecision. “I'm waiting,” her mother said in a bored tone. “You know, I wish this Carmilla had been alive back in the seventeenth century. I think she would have made a much more agreeable daughter than you are being. Perhaps I'll just keep her.”
“Deal,” Laura said quickly, her voice tortured. “Deal,” she whispered again.
Laf was gone in an instant, Will dragging her out. Carmilla's body sauntered over to where Laura sat on Carmilla's bed. “Excellent, mein liebling,” she purred. Laura tensed. “Just remember: no more interference from your little morsel, and everything will be fine. Now, catch.” Carmilla took off the necklace, and promptly collapsed onto the bed.
“Carm!” Laura exclaimed, steadying her body on the mattress. “Carmilla!”
Carmilla groaned and sat up slowly. “My head is splitting,” she growled. Laura sighed in relief at the familiar tone that was so different from the one her mother had made Carmilla use. “Wait. I was at my desk. How did I get to my bed?”
Laura hesitated. “The necklace. It made you collapse. It was poison, but I got it off in time,” she lied. Even with Laf's permission and urging, Laura couldn't bring herself to tell Carmilla what she'd done. “You're okay.”
Carmilla grumbled, holding her head. “Well, that was a kick. I feel like someone put me through a wringer.”
Laura chuckled nervously. “Yeah, that's the poison. You should probably lie down for a little bit. You're probably hurt – I mean, you seem like you're hurt...” she trailed off as Carmilla stood. “That's kind of the opposite of what I just said,” Laura whispered.
“Didn't feel like laying down,” Carmilla murmured. “Your hands.”
“Well I – what?” Laura stumbled over her words.
“Your hands. They're burned.”
“I'm fine.”
“No, you're not,” Carmilla insisted. “Let me see them.” She grabbed Laura's wrists so she could see the bright red marks christening her palms. “The necklace did this to you?”
Laura gently took her hands back. “Vampire, remember?” she reminded Carmilla. “I'll be fine in a few minutes, Carm.”
“Stupid vampire,” Carmilla breathed, leaning in to kiss Laura quickly. Laura flinched, already sick of deceiving Carmilla, but accepted the affection. “You have to stop protecting me. I can take care of myself. Have done for fourteen years.”
“Yeah, well, how could I resist the heroic vampire trope you teens are so fond of?” Laura quipped, her stomach queasy as she tried to maintain some kind of normality. Laura made a mental note to erase the footage that Carmilla's webcam had recorded at some later time as Carmilla moved in for another kiss, laughing softly.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The next day, Laura walked into their dorm room after the sun had set, fresh from a run to the blood bank. Carmilla was sitting at her desk, shoulders hunched as she watched something without sound. “Hey,” Laura greeted, making Carmilla jump in surprise. She turned to look at Laura, her eyes confused and her body tense. “What's the matter, Carm?” Laura asked worriedly.
“You tell me, sundance,” Carmilla muttered, turning to raise the volume on her laptop. Carmilla's voice filled the room, in that awful tone of her mother's. Laura stared as she watched herself be cowed by her sire, then allow Lafontaine to be dragged away. She watched her mother's warning, then Carmilla waking up.
Carmilla viciously pounded the pause key and whirled on Laura. “Were you ever going to tell me?” she snarled. “What is this? I don't remember this.”
Laura sagged. “Something I forgot to erase, apparently,” she murmured.
“How could you not tell me about this? Look at what I did,” Carmilla said in disgust.
“No, it wasn't you,” Laura denied quickly. “It was my mother. She possessed you.”
“Yeah, but I put on the stupid necklace. And you!” Laura flinched as Carmilla rounded on her once more. “Why didn't you tell me? We could have figured something else out.”
“I didn't have a choice!” Laura yelled. “I tried, okay? I tried to come up with some other way. But my mother has controlled me for three hundred years! Your foster mom had you for just over a decade. Imagine her for three centuries. I can't stand up to her. I just – I just can't.” Laura slumped and sat down on her bed, her head in her hands. “I tried to come up with some way to get Laf out of there, but I can't think around my mother. It was her or you. She was going to take you, and I couldn't go through that again. She already murdered one person I cared about, and I didn't really feel like letting that happen again.” Laura shook her head. “I'm sorry that I'm a coward. I'm just gonna go.” She stood up, but Carmilla pushed her back down.
“While that speech was very good, cupcake,” Carmilla said, “that's not what I was angry about.”
“I don't understand,” Laura said, looking up at her quizzically.
“I'm not mad you let them take Laf,” Carmilla clarified. “You were backed into a corner, and Laf told you to do it. So, I get it. What I don't understand, and what I was angry with you about, was you not telling me one tiny, all-important detail about the Blade of Hastur.”
“What?”
“You know, the part where it consumes the soul of whoever touches it. That seems like pretty basic information that I should have been told about,” Carmilla growled. “The sword will kill you, Laura.”
“Oh,” Laura whispered.
“Yes. Oh. That's what I'm angry with you about. You were just going to let it eat your soul?” Carmilla demanded.
“I stood by when I knew girls were getting murdered,” Laura reminded her. “All those lives are on me. I can set it right, but I need the sword to do it.”
Carmilla shook her head. “No, I'm not letting you basically commit suicide because of some misguided guilt, Laura,” she said firmly. “We'll figure out another way.”
“I thought I was the three hundred and sixty year old vampire who was supposed to be the conflicted hero,” Laura complained.
Carmilla grinned, pushing Laura back until she was laying down on the bed and crawling over her. “I can play hero too,” she said with a smirk, leaning down to give Laura a kiss that she returned. “Promise me you won't go after the sword,” she whispered, resting her forehead against Laura's. Laura closed her eyes, mind tortured. “Swear,” Carmilla demanded.
“Okay,” Laura gave in. “You win.”
The teen smiled gently, a look Laura rarely saw on her face. “Good. Because I'm afraid that I very much need you.”
“I need you too.”
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Exhausted and still recovering from the ordeal of being possessed, Carmilla fell asleep while Laura held her. Laura hung on for another hour as the girl she loved slept peacefully in her arms, but eventually, she lay Carmilla down on her own yellow pillow and moved away. Carmilla, bat wing charm safely back on her wrist to prevent nightmares, whined a little but grabbed onto the pillow, turning her face into it and breathing Laura's scent in without waking up. Laura stood gracefully and went over to Carmilla's desk.
Grabbing a piece of paper, Laura thought about all that she wanted to say. That she loved Carmilla, that she'd come back, that she'd fix this. That she'd keep Carmilla safe. But all she could write was: I'm sorry.
She left the paper where Carmilla would find it in the morning and quietly teleported away, disappearing in flash of black smoke. She reappeared out in the forest. Taking a deep breath, Laura transformed into her animal form, a stealthy lynx. She would be faster this way. She could retrieve the sword and be back at Silas before the new moon, when the sacrifice would take place.
Laura ran all night as a cat, heading for the spot that she'd memorized from the Sumerian book. Dawn was just breaking when she switched back into her human form and dived off a cliff into the ocean. She swam down, looking for the opening in the stone. Eventually, over a thousand feet down, she spotted it. She moved in, searching in the dark for any hint of the blade.
There it was. Laura grabbed onto it and pulled, trying to get it out of the rock. Immediately, she could feel the power of the blade draining her of energy. Frantically, Laura jerked on the sword and it came free. She quickly escaped the cave that began to collapse around her as its sole purpose for existing was removed from its depths.
Laura barely got out in time. She began swimming back up, struggling against the blade's pull that seemed to be trying to sink her. What seemed like hours later, she broke the surface, gasping in some air just to feel it moving through her lungs again. Gathering herself, Laura prepared to run back to the school. She'd have to run as a human this time – she had to hang onto the sword. She slung it onto her back so she wouldn't have to touch it as much and would maybe survive the run back. The continued drain from the blade was making her tired already.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Laura got back to Silas that night. She tripped her way up to their room, stumbling in. “Carm?” she called, but the room was empty. “Carmilla?” Laura looked around, but her first assessment was correct. Carmilla was gone.
Her laptop was blinking from the desk, indicating that there was a video message available. Laura clicked on it, and Carmilla appeared, looking thunderously angry. “I. Cannot. Believe you, cupcake,” she growled into the camera. “'I'm sorry'? That's all I get from you? You went off and got the sword that's going to kill you, and you didn't even feel the need to wake me up and tell me?” She cursed loudly, making Laura smile a bit. Carmilla had a foul mouth on her sometimes.
“Whatever,” Carmilla went on. “That's not the point. The point is, that some things have gone down today, so plans have changed. I guess this is supposed to me filming some kind of sobbing goodbye, but screw that. The sacrifice is happening at the Lustig. I'll see you at the violence.” Carmilla's arm reached forward, but she paused. “And if you die, you stupid vampire, or if I die before you get back – you know what? No. You only get to hear it if neither of us dies.” The video ended.
Laura cursed. The Lustig. She had to get there. She shifted back into a lynx and leapt out their third story window, landing spryly on her paws. She sprinted for the oldest building in the school, bursting through the doors. The ritual would be below ground to avoid notice. Laura ran for the basement stairs, diving down them. When she broke through the double doors, she was greeted with the sights and sounds of battle. Will lay dead on the floor at her feet, and students were battling other vampires all around the cavernous room.
Carmilla had somehow managed to get the two fraternities on campus that were constantly at war with one another to fight together just this once, and they were busy letting out war cries and staking vampires. Laura searched for Carmilla, but couldn't see her small frame in between all the fighting bodies.
Just then, a large quake hit the room, knocking everyone around. Light began to erupt from the large pit in the center of the room, and all the humans stopped moving.
Laura finally spotted Carmilla, too close to the edge of the pit. Her stomach seized. All the students were transfixed by the light, and couldn't help moving toward it. Laura yowled and ran for Carmilla, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and dragging her back and dropping her to the ground.
Dazed, Carmilla shook her head and looked up at her. Laura shifted back into a human, holding the sword. “Laura?” Carmilla murmured.
Laura heard an angry scream and turned to see her mother split into a flock of angry black crows and dive at her. Swinging against the strain of the sword, Laura sliced one of the birds in two as they swarmed, causing the rest to screech and form back into her mother's body. Gathering all her courage, Laura attacked, backing her mother up to the edge of the pit.
The dean stumbled, the rim of rock beneath her crumbling. Laura swung once more, slicing across her mother's arm and making her trip. With a yell and one last glare, her mother fell. The light roared its fury, causing Laura to look up. Inside the light, she swore she could see Carmel, beckoning to her.
Tears running down her face, Laura turned back to Carmilla, who hadn't moved. Carmilla stared at her, frozen.
“You know,” Laura began, “I guess there is something to that heroic vampire crap after all.” She turned, lifting the sword and preparing herself.
“Laura, NO!” was the last thing Laura heard Carmilla say before she leapt into the light, bringing the Blade of Hastur down and striking into its heart. Laura's strength seemed to leave her all at once, and the last thing she saw before she fell into darkness was an explosion of light.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Bang!
A small explosion reached Laura's ears.
Bang! Bang! Two more.
“Hold up!” a boy's voice said. “Hey guys, did you see that?”
There was muttering above her. Laura tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't move. She couldn't even breathe. Which was fine, she didn't need to, but it sure made her look dead. Or dead-er.
She could hear rocks tumbling down now as people scrambled down toward her. Wherever she was. Laura had been pretty sure she was really dead this time, but maybe not.
“Oh, shit. Guys, it's Laura!”
“No way!”
“Quick, run and get some rope. We gotta get her back to the surface.”
Two pairs of feet left at a run and began climbing by the sound of it.
“Is she alive?” one boy asked.
“I don't know, man. How can you tell with a vampire?”
“Well she's not breathing.”
“Did Carmilla say whether they needed to breathe?”
“Do you think she can hear us?”
“Guys, shut up! If she can hear you, she'd probably rip your throats out to get you to stop talking.”
Laura wanted to laugh, but still couldn't move a muscle. Less than ten minutes later, feet scrambled back down. “Okay, make a harness.”
“How do we do that?”
“Well, I don't know! Just kind of – loop it around her.”
Laura didn't know who these guys were, but they were kind of funny. Big hands lifted her up by the shoulders and wrapped some rope under her arms. “Okay, you guys go up to the top and start pulling. We'll follow below and make sure she doesn't fall.”
The trip up the rock cliff out of the pit was long and painful. Laura hung limply, unable to do more than swing as they pulled, which was frustrating. She could feel a couple cracked ribs poking her painfully, and various bumps and bruises making themselves known, and she was utterly exhausted and starved, but Laura wasn't going to complain. Couldn't complain, really, but if she could, she wouldn't.
Pairs of hands grabbed her as she reached the top of the pit, hauling her into strong arms to carry back to the dorm. Laura lost track of where they were, but then they were inside.
Up two flights of stairs, and then a door was opened and Carmilla's scent rushed into her nose, even though she couldn't breathe it in.
“Fuck!” Carmilla yelled. Laura wanted to grin, but couldn't.
“We were throwing cherry bombs into the pit, you know, as a kinda Hoo-rah thing for winning, and then we just saw her lying there. I mean, she's not breathing or anything, and she seems dead, but we didn't know, so we brought her here,” the guy carrying her explained.
“She needs blood, you imbecile,” Carmilla growled. There was a rustling in the fridge, then cold blood was pouring down her throat in small gulps. Laura couldn't swallow the first couple, but after that, she leaned up into the carton, swallowing hungrily. “There you go,” Carmilla whispered for her alone. “You're okay, Laura. You're okay.”
Laura sat up slowly, opening her eyes. They widened in surprise as they took in the bedroom she shared with Carmilla. The room was trashed. Carmilla's bed was torn to pieces, the closet door off its hinges, the curtains pulled from the windows and Carmilla's laptop smashed with what looked like a crowbar. “Well, when did the tornado hit?” she asked tiredly, taking a deep breath as she settled into the comforter.
Carmilla's larger (but still small) frame smashing into hers felt like a freight train hitting her broken ribs. They stabbed painfully, but Laura ignored them in favor of returning the embrace. She heard the door click shut somewhere to her left as the frat boys left them alone. Carmilla broke the hug, only to hit Laura in the arm. “Ow!” Laura protested.
“That's for dying, cutie,” Carmilla informed her. “And I probably shouldn't have done that because you died and you're probably still hurt, but I'm mad.”
Laura eyed the room. “I can see that.”
Carmilla actually blushed slightly. “Yeah, I don't mourn. I get furious,” she explained sheepishly. “I've destroyed a lot of my stuff in the last week.”
“I was gone a week?” Laura asked in disbelief. “And also, where'd you get a crowbar?”
“Laf,” Carmilla answered promptly. “And you were. Well, six days and … fifteen hours. And I am so angry at you,” she added. “I can't believe you went and got the Blade of Hastur. We could have used a bazooka or something. And the whole jumping into the light, Laura? There are entire adages explaining in detail why one should not go into the light.” Laura stood up. A bit painfully, but she managed it. “You shouldn't be doing that,” Carmilla reprimanded her. “You died, and fell who knows how many feet, and you were dead for a week.”
“So you've explained to me a few times,” Laura murmured. “But I kind of want to kiss you right now.” A bad thought occurred to her, and she leaned back quickly. “That is still okay, right?” she asked nervously.
Carmilla rolled her eyes and kissed Laura hard. “Stupid vampire,” she whispered against Laura's lips before kissing her again.
“That's been established. Never a question,” Laura agreed. “But right now, the stupid vampire is hurting just a tiny bit, and would appreciate moving this activity to a softer space.”
“Oh, God.” Carmilla immediately stepped away, making Laura whine. “We shouldn't be doing this.”
“We really should.”
“Don't tempt me, buttercup. Lay down. Do you need any more blood?” Carmilla asked worriedly.
Laura shook her head. “No I'm good.” She obediently lay down, but pulled Carmilla on top of her. Carmilla propped herself up on her hands and knees to avoid putting any weight on Laura's sore spots. “It's okay, Carm,” Laura soothed the younger girl quietly. “I'll be fine in a couple of days. Nothing a little blood won't fix.”
Carmilla sighed, letting her head drop to Laura's shoulder. “I thought you were dead, Laura,” she murmured. “I have never been that – lost, before.” Laura heard a tiny sniffle come from the teen, which broke her heart.
“I'm sorry, Carmilla.”
“Don't ever die again, okay?” Carmilla asked.
Laura smiled. “Well, I am immortal. Shouldn't be too hard to keep that promise – barring any unfortunate incidents with white picket fences.” The joke worked, getting Carmilla to laugh a little.
“You're going to have to spend lifetimes making this up to me,” she grumbled almost inaudibly.
Laura froze. Carmilla didn't just say that. She couldn't have just said that. “Lifetimes?” she asked uncertainly.
Carmilla looked just as unsure. “You weren't supposed to hear that,” she said, unable to meet Laura's eyes.
They were both quiet for a moment as Laura tried to come up with some kind of intelligible response. “Speaking of lifetimes,” she said nonchalantly, making Carmilla tense, “what was the thing that I only got to hear if neither of us died during the epic final battle?”
Carmilla relaxed and grinned. “Well, I don't know about that,” she teased. “You died, so I'm not sure you've earned the right to know.”
“I came back from the dead!” Laura protested. “That has to count for something.”
Carmilla merely chuckled and went in for another kiss. Laura groaned in frustration but eagerly returned it. The brunette leaned to the side to whisper in Laura's ear.
“I love you.”