Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

Queen Ellie!” the Valkyrie called.
    “Thank you for everything, Nïx.” Ellie shrugged into her hoodie, pulling it over her head, just in case someone happened to spot her. Then she traced to the woods near her mother’s trailer.
    The forest blanketing the mountain was old growth, the pines and hardwoods so dense that sunlight barely reached the moist ground—not that she
had to worry about that any longer. As she strolled along familiar paths,
she gazed up, watching the taller treetops rake a steady ridgeline breeze.
    Her senses were so acute now. Here, she could smell the very earth. The sound of the cicadas was like a roar in her ears.
    Every time she stepped on green pine needles, their crisp scent erupted. A bite of evergreen.
    Like Lothaire’s scent.
    Don’t think about him, Ellie! Look forward, never dwell.
    From the edge of the woods, she spied her old trailer, finding it dingier than ever in the daylight. The aroma of cooking food carried from within. Though no longer appealing to her appetite, it smelled like home.
    How would she ever be able to leave this mountain again? She knew she couldn’t stay, but where could she go?
    Ellie briefly considered living in one of the exotic locales Lothaire had taken her to. And how exactly would I get blood from Bora-Borans—
    Oh, there was Josh! He played with some of his cousins on a broken-down, rusted swing set.
    Look how much he’s grown! His dark hair had more of an auburn tint than hers did, but their eyes shared the same color.
    How she’d missed her baby brother! As she watched him, she got lost in memories of him as a chubby toddler, recalling how he’d barreled around the trailer like a Weeble, always leading with his stubborn chin.
    Those tears of hers gathered and spilled—
    “Hands where I can see ’em, or I’ll blow your head off!”
    Uncle Ephraim. In the woods behind her.
    She froze. Oh, my God! So much for not making contact with her family.
    And he was such a quick trigger, she wondered if she could even trace away before a bullet plugged her. Trace away to where, Ellie?
    “Hands up, I said!”
    She dropped her grocery bag, raising her hands. “It’s me, Uncle Eph. It’s Ellie.” She eased around, then uncovered her head.
    His weather-beaten face paled, his wide jaw slackening as he lowered his gun. “Ruth!” he yelled in the direction of the trailer. “Ruth, come quick, your daughter’s losing her eyes!”
    Ellie cried, “What?” Oh, the tears! “Wait, I’m not losing my eyes! Don’t call her—”
    Too late. Mama came charging out in her house slippers, nearly tripping down the steps. “What is it?” She shoved her thick red hair out of her face, tossing a cigarette.
    Ephraim covered Ellie’s shoulder with his callused hand. “Just stay calm, girl, and we’ll get you to a hospital fast as lightning.”
    “I’m fine. This is just how I cry now.” As if that made any sense.
    But when her mother reached them, she took one look at Ellie and shook her head sadly. “Ellie Ann, are them tears? What’d that feller do to you?”
    When Josh came bounding toward them, Ellie whirled around. “Send him down the mountain. I don’t want him to see me like this!”
    Mama headed him off, shooing him back to his friends, then said to Ellie, “You best come in.”
    She nodded, and the three of them trudged to the trailer in silence. Inside, once her mother got a closer look—her gaze darting over Ellie’s tear tracks, black claws, and small fangs—comprehension dawned.
    “Oh, Ellie,” she murmured, “don’t you know that when you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas?”
    She knows what I am! How would she react? Will she shun me? Be disgusted?
    “Don’t mean I ain’t gonna love your flea-bitten hide.”
    Ellie wanted to sag with relief. When Mama opened her arms, she was tempted to run to her, but stopped herself. “I can’t be hugging anybody yet. I’m kinda strong-like.”
    Ephraim gazed back and forth between them. “Ellie, I think you got a heap of talkin’ to do.”
    Nodding gravely, she sank onto the living room’s shabby couch, unleashing dog fur and dust motes to float through the sunlight streaming inside. Then she began to outline her new abilities and immortality, her need for blood. . . .
    Once she’d finished, Ephraim appeared dazed. “Gonna have to ponder all this awhile. But the fact is: you’re a Peirce. No matter what you got turned into. And we do right by our kin. So just tell us if