The Divergence

Lavinia landed lightly outside the hotel, the soles of her shoes touching the pavement without so much as a sound. 

Her wings folded behind her before disappearing, leaving her standing beneath the entrance lights with her golden hair stirring in the evening breeze. 

Valerie descended beside her, followed by Gwendolyn, Adelaide, Rosaline, and Violetta, their arrival attracting a handful of curious glances from pedestrians passing along the street.

The crowd that had gathered earlier was gone. 

Lavinia could tell from the lingering scent trails that most had dispersed hours ago, leaving behind little more than traces of human sweat, perfume, and the unpleasant tension she had come to associate with public attention. 

Apparently, the spectacle of the car accident had eventually lost its appeal.

That was something, at least.

Unfortunately, the looks they received upon entering the hotel lobby suggested that the matter was far from settled. 

A woman near the reception desk stiffened when she noticed them, while a man sitting beside the windows immediately lowered his phone. 

Another guest watched them with an expression Lavinia couldn’t quite place, something between concern and suspicion.

Fear was there, certainly. So was distrust.

But there was worry, too, and even a little genuine concern.

Lavinia found the mixture exhausting.

”Well,” she muttered, ”this is going to be pleasant.”

Valerie glanced around the lobby before giving a small shrug. ”If people used their heads for five seconds, they’d probably realize something.”

Lavinia looked toward her. ”And what’s that?”

”That if we’re supposedly the horrible monsters everyone keeps talking about, it’s pretty strange that the loudest person accusing us is still alive.” Valerie smiled faintly. ”You’d think that would count for something.”

Rosaline pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh as they approached the elevators. ”Careful, Valerie. Someone might accuse you of threatening him just by pointing that out.”

”Wouldn’t surprise me.”

The elevator arrived with a quiet chime, and the vampires stepped inside. As the doors slid shut, Rosaline leaned against the wall and exhaled.

”I’m almost disappointed,” she admitted. ”I was expecting shouting, name-calling, maybe someone trying to throw something at us.”

”Please don’t sound disappointed,” Gwendolyn replied, her white hair shifting as she turned toward her. ”I’d rather nobody did anything stupid. My mother probably couldn’t handle another round of people getting themselves killed.”

Rosaline’s expression softened. ”Fair enough.”

Gwendolyn moved closer to Lavinia, wrapping both arms around one of hers and resting her cheek against her shoulder. Lavinia glanced down at her, smiling despite herself.

”Speaking of people doing stupid things,” Gwendolyn said, ”are the other Princesses doing anything?”

Lavinia tilted her head.

The question was becoming increasingly difficult to answer.

She could feel the other six Royal Vampires, certainly. 

Their presences were unmistakable within the Blood Sea, immense concentrations of significance around which countless lesser lights seemed to converge. 

But sensing someone was not the same as knowing every thought passing through her head.

”What they do isn’t really something I can control,” Lavinia answered with a wry smile. ”We’re connected, but they’re not exactly waiting for me to give them instructions.”

”Can you tell what they’re doing?” Adelaide asked.

”Not precisely.” Lavinia considered the distant presences. ”One of them seems to be having an awful lot of fun right now.”

Valerie raised an eyebrow. ”That sounds ominous.”

”It might be. The others seem more or less calm, though.”

Lavinia paused, her attention drifting toward the strange crimson immensity that existed just beyond ordinary perception.

”And there are vampires coming.”

The others looked toward her.

”Coming here?” Violetta asked.

”I think so.” Lavinia closed her eyes. ”Some of the lights that were farther away are getting closer. It’s subtle, but they’re definitely moving in this direction.”

Within the Blood Sea, the distant red glimmers shifted against an expanse that seemed to possess neither horizon nor boundary. 

Their movements were so slight that anyone less intimately connected to the place might have mistaken them for imagination.

Lavinia knew better.

Her perception there was unrivaled, matched only by the six other Singularities whose awakening had transformed the crimson space.

She couldn’t identify every approaching vampire, nor could she determine their intentions simply from their movement. 

Nevertheless, she could feel them drawing nearer, and the knowledge left her with a peculiar mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

”How many?” Violetta asked.

”I can’t give you an exact number yet. Enough that I think we’ll notice.”

Violetta’s expression became thoughtful. ”Then we’ll need to prepare.”

”That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”

The elevator chimed.

Lavinia opened her eyes as the doors slid apart, revealing the familiar corridor leading toward their rooms. 

The vampires stepped out together, their footsteps barely audible against the carpet.

”I have some people to speak with,” Violetta announced. ”I’ll return later.”

”Military people?” Valerie asked.

”Among others.”

”Good luck,” Lavinia offered.

Violetta gave her a small smile. ”You too.”

She turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving the others to make their way toward their rooms.

They hadn’t gone particularly far when Lavinia heard a familiar voice.

It came from somewhere ahead, passionate and increasingly loud, accompanied by the faint electronic distortion of a phone microphone.

A man stepped out of one of the rooms near her own, holding his phone in front of his face.

Lavinia recognized him after a moment.

Ethan Vale.

Of course.

”—and what we’re seeing here,” Ethan declared to his viewers, ”is another example of vampires disregarding even the most basic moral obligations when human lives are at stake.”

He was so focused on his screen that he hadn’t yet noticed the vampires approaching.

”These creatures had an opportunity to save a woman’s life. A wife. A mother. Someone with a family waiting for her. Instead, they stood there and watched her die right in front of their cold red eyes.”

Lavinia stopped walking.

Valerie looked at her, then toward Ethan.

”Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ethan continued speaking.

”Reports have been circulating online that vampire blood possesses extraordinary healing properties. People have claimed that it can repair injuries that modern medicine simply cannot treat. If those vampires had rendered aid, that woman might still be alive today.”

”He told us not to help,” Valerie said, yawning.

Ethan finally noticed them.

For a moment, his expression faltered.

Then his eyes brightened.

Rosaline folded her arms. ”Well, look at that. He’s gotten smarter. This time he’s only accusing us of letting someone die instead of accusing us of murdering them ourselves.”

Ethan’s pulse accelerated.

The vampires were standing right in front of him.

All of them.

He felt a rush of adrenaline, followed by the familiar excitement that accompanied a sudden opportunity. 

His channel had been struggling recently, its audience dwindling as people moved on to newer controversies and more sensational footage.

But now his numbers were climbing again.

People wanted someone willing to confront vampires. Someone brave enough to say what others were supposedly too frightened to admit.

And Ethan was that person.

At least, that was how he intended to present himself.

He knew something his viewers didn’t.

The vampires wouldn’t touch him.

They couldn’t.

If they attacked him for exercising his right to speak, they would prove everything he had been saying about them. Their reputation would collapse, and his own would rise.

He raised the phone a little higher.

”Well, look who it is,” he announced. ”The very vampires we’ve been discussing.”

Lavinia closed her eyes.

For several seconds, she said nothing.

Then she opened them again.

”The last time we met,” she said quietly, ”I thought what happened would be enough to make you keep your distance.”

Ethan adjusted his camera.

”I’m simply asking questions.”

”No. You’re doing what you did before.”

Lavinia stepped forward until only a few inches separated her from Ethan and the phone.

Despite being exactly five feet tall, she possessed an undeniable presence. Her crimson eyes stared directly into his, and the pleasant scent of berries and pine seemed suddenly sharper in the confined corridor.

”There are people who genuinely believe in righteousness,” she continued. ”People who’ll put themselves in danger because they believe something is worth defending. That’s an extreme thing to do, you know. Putting your life on the line for what you think is right.”

Ethan swallowed.

Lavinia rose onto her tiptoes, bringing her face closer to his.

”Are you that kind of person, Ethan? Someone who’d be willing to die to see justice upheld?”

His heart thudded.

He took a step backward, then another.

”I’m trying to get justice for a woman who lost her life.”

Lavinia lowered herself onto her heels.

Her smile was extraordinarily beautiful.

It was also terribly tired.

”Then you must be a very good person.”

Ethan hesitated.

”Of course I—”

”In that case, why don’t you find an act of human violence and put yourself in harm’s way to stop it?”

His expression tightened.

Lavinia tilted her head.

”Or is human violence not something you’re interested in? Humans killing other humans? Does that not bother you quite as much?”

”That’s not what this is about.”

”Isn’t it?”

She turned her attention toward the phone.

”And for everyone watching, in case you’ve forgotten, the incident we’re discussing was a car accident. None of the drivers involved were vampires.”

Her voice remained calm.

”Humans were driving those vehicles. Humans caused the collision. And when we offered to help, a human refused to let us.”

Ethan opened his mouth, but Lavinia continued before he could speak.

”The deaths that resulted from that accident weren’t caused by vampires. Would any of you like to be blamed for a death you had nothing to do with?”

She paused, then laughed softly.

”Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t particularly care.”

Lavinia looked back at Ethan.

”Move, please. I’d like to go to my room.”

For a moment, Ethan remained where he stood.

Then he stepped aside.

Lavinia walked past him, Valerie and the others following.

Rosaline fell into step beside her, an amused smile playing across her lips.

”I didn’t know you could be so fierce with words.”

Lavinia sighed. ”I don’t have much patience left for people who enjoy stirring the pot.”

”Understandable.”

Behind them, Ethan watched the vampires walk away.

Heat rose in his chest.

He could hear the faint notifications from his phone, the rapid stream of comments appearing across the screen. His viewers were watching. They had seen him confront the vampires, and they were waiting to see what he would do next.

He had backed away.

He had let them dismiss him.

And somehow, that felt intolerable.

A surge of confidence rose within him, born from the certainty that he had nothing to fear.

He angled the camera toward their retreating backs.

”And there you have it!” Ethan declared. ”Once again, the vampires demonstrate absolutely no remorse for the lives they’ve harmed. They dismiss human suffering as though it means nothing to them!”

Valerie’s expression darkened.

Rosaline glanced over her shoulder.

Ethan continued, his voice growing louder.

”I wish these creatures had never appeared in our world. Good people are suffering because of them, just like that poor woman yesterday. How many more lives have to be ruined before someone finally does something?”

Lavinia kept walking.

”We cannot allow vampires to walk all over us!” Ethan insisted. ”We cannot let them disregard human lives as though they’re somehow superior to us!”

Lavinia stopped.

The change was immediate.

Her body became perfectly motionless, her arms resting at her sides, her golden hair settling against her shoulders.

She didn’t shift her weight.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t display even the smallest unconscious movement that might have suggested a living person standing in the corridor.

For a moment, she looked like a beautiful statue.

Or something that had learned to imitate life without ever truly possessing it.

Ethan noticed.

Satisfaction surged through him.

He had gotten a reaction.

”I wouldn’t advise anyone watching to confront vampires directly,” he continued, encouraged by her stillness. ”But we can pressure our leaders! We can demand that the authorities intervene! We can make sure these creatures don’t get to harm people without consequences!”

Valerie looked toward Lavinia.

”Lavinia?”

Ethan raised his voice.

”They shouldn’t be allowed to kill people and then brush aside questions! They shouldn’t be able to frighten everyone into submission! Humanity has survived everything thrown at it, and we’ll survive this too! The human spirit is unbreakable!”

Lavinia turned.

Her golden hair fluttered around her face.

She extended one hand toward Ethan.

And slowly closed her fingers.

She knew she shouldn’t.

The thought was perfectly clear, even as she moved.

She had already tried walking away from this man. She had ignored his accusations, tolerated his attempts to provoke her, and allowed him to present himself as some courageous defender of humanity.

And here he was again.

Stirring hatred.

Inventing grievances.

Treating vampires as convenient villains in a story designed to make himself famous.

He hadn’t lost anyone to them.

He hadn’t been harmed by them.

He simply knew that hatred attracted attention.

Lavinia had spent so much time trying to prove that vampires weren’t monsters. She had restrained herself, helped humans, defended Oakridge, and watched her companions do the same.

Yet the accusations continued.

And now, with the Blood Sea stretching through her awareness and six other Princesses awakening across the world, she understood something she had been reluctant to acknowledge.

There were limits to what patience could accomplish.

Ethan’s right arm shuddered violently.

He stared down at it.

For one bewildered instant, he couldn’t understand what he was seeing.

Then came the sound of breaking bone.

The metallic scent of blood filled the corridor as his arm twisted beneath an invisible force. Flesh ruptured, blood spilling through his sleeve and onto the carpet.

The pain arrived a fraction of a second later.

Ethan screamed.

His phone slipped from his other hand and struck the floor, landing face down as he collapsed to his knees.

The livestream continued.

Lavinia walked toward him.

Her footsteps were soft, almost delicate.

She stopped directly in front of the man who had spent so much time trying to turn public opinion against her and her companions.

Ethan clutched his ruined arm, his face contorted with agony.

Lavinia looked down at him.

”If you’d known you were going to die here tonight,” she asked softly, ”would you still have come?”

Ethan tried to speak.

Only a pained whimper escaped him.

Lavinia glanced toward his shattered arm.

”You’re not brave, Ethan. You never were.”

She crouched slightly.

”You wanted to be famous. You found something people were afraid of, and you decided to make that fear your livelihood.”

His breathing became frantic.

”You knew we wouldn’t hurt you,” Lavinia continued. ”That’s why you kept coming back. You weren’t standing up to monsters. You were taking advantage of people who were trying very hard not to become them.”

Her gaze shifted toward the phone lying face down on the carpet.

The screen displayed nothing but darkness.

The microphone, however, continued transmitting every word.

Lavinia smiled faintly.

”If you genuinely hate vampires that much, then come and kill us.”

Valerie’s eyes widened slightly.

”Lavinia...”

”Come and kill me,” Lavinia continued, her voice almost gentle. ”Kill every vampire who appeared during the First Divergence. Every person who woke up one day and discovered they’d become something different.”

She laughed without amusement.

”And now there are witches and elves, too. I suppose you’ll have to decide what to do about them.”

She tilted her head.

”Do you really believe you can bully every other species into a corner and never face any consequences?”

Ethan whimpered.

Lavinia tightened her fingers.

His body convulsed.

Blood poured from his mouth as a terrible pressure seized something deep within his chest. He tried to scream, but the sound broke into a wet, strangled cry.

”Humans aren’t the only people in this world anymore,” Lavinia said, her voice hardening. ”There are four other species now. Four other kinds of people who can think, feel, love, and hate.”

Her crimson eyes narrowed.

”Humans aren’t fucking special.”

The corridor fell silent except for Ethan’s ragged breathing.

Lavinia stared down at him.

”That woman died because her husband was too busy screaming about vampires to let us save her.”

Her expression didn’t change.

”And you’re going to die because you wanted to be a hero.”

She bent down and picked up the phone.

The screen was still active.

Comments continued racing past, too quickly for her to read them all.

Lavinia held the camera toward herself.

”If you really believe vampires are monsters,” she asked quietly, ”why do you keep going out of your way to make us into monsters?”

Her smile returned.

There was no happiness in it.

”Becoming a monster because you have no other choice is tragic. Being forced into cruelty because the alternative is watching everyone you love suffer—that’s a terrible thing.”

She looked directly into the camera.

”But don’t pretend humans are above any of that.”

Her voice sharpened.

”If you were starving, truly starving, and killing someone meant you could survive another day with a full stomach, how many of you would do it? How many would watch someone else die if it meant you got to live?”

Lavinia’s lips curled, and a low growl slipped into her voice.

”Your entire history is filled with humans preying on other humans. You’ve conquered, enslaved, murdered, and slaughtered your own kind for thousands of years.”

She leaned closer to the camera.

”So where the fuck do you get the arrogance to pretend you’re saints? That you’re the good ones? God’s chosen people?”

Then Lavinia laughed.

It was a bright, almost cheerful sound.

”God doesn’t love you.”

She paused.

”God doesn’t love any of us.”

The image of the Thing in the Darkness rose unbidden in her mind: the feminine silhouette of absolute darkness, those pale gray eyes, and the casual amusement with which it had spoken of things that could destroy civilizations.

”God is bored,” Lavinia said. ”That’s why the world is the way it is.”

A hand settled gently against her shoulder.

Valerie.

Lavinia turned her head slightly.

The orange haired vampire looked at her with an expression that was difficult to read. There was concern there, certainly, but no attempt to pull her away.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Lavinia hummed softly.

”I’ve made a lot of trouble for Violetta, haven’t I?”

Valerie’s fingers tightened slightly against her shoulder.

”Probably.”

Lavinia smiled.

”Yeah.”

She looked down at Ethan.

”I don’t particularly care right now.”

Something had changed.

She could feel it.

Not merely within herself, but throughout the Blood Sea.

One of the six distant Singularities had become surrounded by an agitation that hadn’t been there before. 

The sensation wasn’t a clear picture or a spoken report, but Lavinia could recognize the disturbance for what it was.

Fear.

Confusion.

And the terrible finality of lives ending.

Somewhere, one of the other Princesses had done something that couldn’t be undone.

Lavinia closed her eyes briefly.

She couldn’t hear the distant screams with her ears. They existed instead as an impression carried through the strange connection, the emotional aftermath of violence spreading among the lesser lights.

It was enough.

Things were beginning to fall apart.

Perhaps they had been falling apart for a long time.

Vampires didn’t need to kill humans to survive. They could feed without taking lives, and most of them wanted little more than to exist peacefully.

Yet humans continued acting as though vampires were possessions to be regulated, restrained, and used.

As though becoming something stronger meant surrendering the right to make decisions for oneself.

Lavinia remembered the visions.

A captive vampire harvested for her blood.

A ruined city.

Humans hunting supernaturals.

The desperate struggle between species that might otherwise have learned to coexist.

And she remembered the other possibility.

Vampires treating humans as cattle.

A world in which the balance of power had shifted so completely that humanity’s objections meant very little.

Neither future was good.

But standing in that corridor, with Ethan bleeding at her feet, Lavinia realized something about herself that she could no longer ignore.

If she had to choose between those two futures, she would choose the one where humans lost.

Because she would protect the people dear to her.

Valerie.

Gwendolyn.

Adelaide.

Rosaline.

Violetta.

All the others.

The countless vampires whose distant lights she could feel within the Blood Sea.

She could revive vampires now, provided she possessed their blood templates. She could bring back those who had been lost, restoring them through an ability no other Princess seemed to possess.

But if she died, who would revive her?

The thought was unpleasantly simple.

Nobody.

She didn’t want to die.

And she certainly didn’t intend to let vampires surrender themselves to humans simply because humans were frightened of losing their position at the top.

Why should they?

The arrival of witches and elves wouldn’t make things better. If anything, humanity would become even more terrified as the world filled with beings it couldn’t easily control.

And frightened people were capable of terrible things.

Ethan stirred.

Lavinia opened her eyes.

The man was attempting to crawl away, dragging his ruined arm behind him as he struggled toward the opposite end of the corridor.

She watched him for a moment.

Then she flicked her fingers.

His body jerked backward, tumbling across the carpet until he came to rest at her feet again.

Ethan looked up.

His face was streaked with blood, his expression twisted by pain and terror.

He opened his mouth.

Lavinia didn’t wait to hear what he intended to say.

Her hand closed.

The blood within his heart answered.

For an instant, the organ resisted the unnatural pressure.

Then it ruptured.

Ethan’s body convulsed once.

His eyes widened.

A final, strangled breath escaped him before he slowly fell onto his side.

Still.

Silent.

Lavinia watched him.

He wasn’t a vampire.

He couldn’t regenerate a destroyed heart.

And no amount of determination, courage, or human spirit could change that.

As darkness closed around Ethan’s fading consciousness, a final thought struggled to form.

He had wanted to become famous.

Surely he had succeeded.

People were watching.

People would remember his name.

But somewhere beneath the pain and terror, he understood what he had become.

Another death.

Another number.

Another name that others would use to advance their own arguments.

Just like the people whose suffering he had used to build his audience.

Regret flickered through him.

Then there was nothing.

Lavinia lowered her hand.

The corridor smelled strongly of blood.

Valerie remained beside her, while Gwendolyn, Adelaide, and Rosaline stood several feet away. None had moved to intervene.

For a moment, Lavinia looked at the motionless body.

Then she glanced toward the shattered phone still resting in her hand.

She squeezed.

Plastic cracked, glass shattered, and the device collapsed into fragments between her fingers. She let the pieces fall beside Ethan’s body.

”Isolde left the people who hurt her alive,” Lavinia murmured.

Valerie looked toward her.

”She did.”

”She’s genuinely good.”

Lavinia’s smile was faint.

”Ethan wasn’t.”

She paused.

”And neither am I.”

Gwendolyn took a small step forward.

”Lavinia...”

”It’s okay.”

Lavinia shook her head.

”I know what I did.”

Her gaze drifted toward the window at the end of the corridor, beyond which the lights of Oakridge glimmered against the darkness.

She had never truly seen the Golden Princess from the visions. She didn’t know what that version of herself had done, what choices had led her to command an enormous vampire army, or how many lives had been lost along the way.

But she was Lavinia.

And she had just murdered a human who couldn’t defend himself against her.

Whatever excuses she might offer, whatever arguments she could make about Ethan’s intentions, the reality remained.

She had chosen to kill him.

Perhaps she was already as bad as the tyrants she feared.

Perhaps worse.

Lavinia looked down at her hand.

The blood staining her fingers withdrew, gathering into a small crimson droplet before disappearing against her skin.

She had made a choice.

And now she would have to live with it.

”I need to go back to the others,” she said quietly.

Valerie nodded.

”Okay.”

”But first...”

Lavinia exhaled.

”I should apologize to Violetta.”

Rosaline looked toward Ethan’s body.

”She’s going to have quite a few questions.”

”I know.”

”And the city?”

”Probably even more.”

Lavinia glanced once more toward the ruined phone.

The livestream was gone, but she had no illusions about what had already been recorded.

People would talk.

They would condemn her.

Some would celebrate Ethan as a martyr.

Others would use his death as proof that vampires were dangerous.

And perhaps they would be right.

Lavinia turned away.

She could still feel the six distant Princesses within the Blood Sea, their immense presences shining amid countless lesser lights.

More vampires were approaching Oakridge.

Somewhere, a captive vampire remained in human hands.

And the fragile peace Violetta had worked so hard to maintain was beginning to fracture.

Lavinia had tried patience.

She had tried kindness.

She had tried walking away.

Tonight, she had chosen something else.

Whether that choice would save the vampires she loved or lead them toward the very future she feared remained to be seen.

But she wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t made it.

”Come on,” Lavinia said softly.

Valerie fell into step beside her.

Together, the vampires walked down the corridor, leaving Ethan body behind.