We had horrid lives even then. In our bed Sabine would cry, wetting the pillows we shared. It was of fine cloth but had been through years. We were not as powerful as we were even back then. Sometimes it was because the Elders scary expressions, sometimes it was because someone else had gotten voted out.

I would put my on hand on her face and stroke her wet cheek until she finished sobbing.

"I'll make them leave, I promise, Sabine."

"We aren't powerful enough."

"I am, I'm sure I can." Even though I saw my mother dragged away, I had foolishly thought I could protect her and Sabine.

"Be Queen Butterfly?"

"But Cecile is in line for it," I thought foolishly.

She was older than us and the other girls our age, two who didn't end up making it through ages two and four because they had mixed blood.

"No, you will!" Sabine always believed in me. "You'll be Queen Butterfly, and rule over our clan. It suits you—you're meant to be a queen."

I hadn't been into commanding much at the time, although I was beautiful at seven, and much more at fourteen, I'd always wanted to hide. I only wanted a quiet, plain life with Sabine.

"I'll be it, then," I said anyways. "I'll be Queen Butterfly. One day we will rule this castle instead of Agnes."

"But then there's men who come."

"I'll get rid of them."

"Kill them?"

"Yes." If that meant fulfilling my role and giving me power.

"But I've heard you'll have to be kept in the tower—your mother was like that.

"Well, the tower isn't that bad of a place. They have a window that oversees Jardin and butterflies come in."

"Then I'll wait for you."

"Yes, do wait."

And every night, after such a talk, I'd lean over and kiss her salty cheek before we fell asleep.

***

Sabine had went to her side.

I was completely alone.

The next day I couldn't go downstairs for breakfast. I couldn't bear seeing any of their faces—Agnes, Selma, Rowena, Priscilla, and most of all, hers.

How could it be?

When I betrayed the humans for her, and the human called me a monster, a demon, I didn't mind. I didn't, because I knew I had her. And now she's left.

How could you, Sabine?

There was a knock on my door, and I stood up quickly from my bed.

"Who is it?" I asked warily.

"It's me."

Uriel.

I had forgotten about him. I sat down on my bed again.

"Come in, Uriel."

The door opened and he came in. His face and hair were so much like hers. I looked away.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is wrong, Margery?" He put down his bag of materials on the chair and then walked over to me. "Was it because of yesterday? Did you—are you in trouble?"

I peered up at him, and my heart ached. This man—he could never understand me.

"Sit down," I said. He stood there stiffly, and opened his mouth, but I cut him off. "Sit, please." Without another word, Uriel sat down slowly, still inches away, keeping his distance from me.

"What is it?"

"I will kill Agnes," I whispered, voice low. "Tell me, do you have a plan?"

"I heard vampires can't die in normal ways," he said, voice low, too. He had caught on quickly. We couldn't risk been barged in again, like last time. "You are resistance to diseases, most poisons, and your wounds quickly heal because your blood clots."

"Yes. I have to stab her heart, behead her, or kill her in some immediate way."

"Rifles," he said. Rifles. I've heard of them.

"How do you, uh, do it?"

"You use it," he said, and I noticed the corner of his mouth lifting. He was laughing at my ignorance of it. I kept from seething.

"Yes, that. What do I do?"

"I'll draw one for you," he explained, and went up to get his sketchbook. He sat down again, and quickly drew a strange thing, no much different from a train in shape.

"It's like a train," I said, and then regretted it. I peeked at him, and sure enough, he was barely keeping from laughing. He shook his head.

"See this? It's a trigger. You press on it, like this." He gestured a rifle with one hand, the thumb crooked into the trigger, and then with his other hand, pulled at it. "It's harder than what you might expect, so you should use two fingers. It needs to be loaded, too, but I'll load it for you."

I was confused, but I wasn't going to let him know that.

"And then?"

"You aim it at her, or whatever your target is, and then you pull on the trigger."

"Not press it?"

"You can't press it."

"What." He was the confusing one. "And then? She just dies?"

"No, not like that," he point to the drawing again. "This thing had a thing called a bullet, that shoots out once you pull on the trigger. You aim it at her heart, or head, I think it'll be enough to kill a vampire. You press on the trigger and a spring mechanism causes a explosive to ignite inside, and a bullet will shoot out and hit whatever you aim it at." I pretended I understood.

"That doesn't sound so complicated," I said proudly. "I can do it."

"It's not as easy as you think," he says with a sigh. "You need precise aiming, strength to hold it in place, and time to aim it at a specific place. You know what you need? Practice."

"Then teach me," I said.

"The thing is, I don't know how to use one, too."

I gawked at him. What use is his stupid long lecture for if he didn't even know how to use it himself? And he sounded so high and mighty, too.

"Well, great then," I scoffed. "I'll learn myself. Bring me the rifle."

"I don't have one."

What?

"So why did you even bring it up?" I snapped. "I'll just find a dagger or something—"

"Wait!" he said. "The thing is, Yves has one."

I froze. Yves. Perfect!

I leaned down until our faces were only inches from touching.

"Yes! Bring him to me, at once!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"People aren't items, my friend. You can't bring them like you do a dog."

"Well, you are dogs to me."

He frowned. "You don't understand, Yves might not help us so easily."

"Then I'll sleep with him! I'll seduce him!" I threw up my hands. "I'll do something!"

"Margery," he growled, "listen carefully. Vampires aren't the only actors—humans can, too."

"Oh?" I put a hand on a hip. "You're telling me Yves is what, more intelligent than he looks?"

"Much more," he said, to my surprise. "Yves didn't come here just to research your clan out of interest. Yves is the son of a priest."

"And?"

"His family, the Derosiers, were once vampire hunters."

I froze. Chills went down my spine, and I stepped away. Who were these men? Who were these researchers? Uriel came for revenge, Dr.Gregoire—I didn't know, and Yves came from a line of hunters?

"What—why is he here?" I asked. "To kill us?"

"No," Uriel said. "I can tell it's not that. He's truly interested in this clan, and has studied under Gregoire. However, like I said, he's not dumb. He knows it's dangerous, and he has a rifle. He told us, beforehand, if there were anything suspicious, he would would deal with it."

"He's going to kill us," I said in disbelief.

"If there's anything endangering us," he quickly added. I didn't feel much better.

"Why did you never tell me? I could've died!"

"He's not like that."

"Oh, it's completely hopeless," I groaned. "We can't trust him."

"No, we need him."

"Are you insane? No!"

"Wait, listen!" he said. "Yves's distrust for vampires is a rather good thing. We only have to shape that distrust into hatred for Agnes. You have to pretend to be a victim, as well as your sisters. Let him think Agnes is the evil one, and then have him kill her!"

I was a good actress, I had grown up acting, but his story was a bit too complicated for me to wrap my mind around.

"I'm not a victim. I'd rather be a villain than victim."

"You want to be killed?" He didn't sound like he was joking.

"But how could I act like a victim? I'm always there with the girls and—and Primrose sure doesn't act like a victim." Then I thought of her. She was working with them. "No. We can't do that!"

"Why? You could tell the truth, it's true that you want to leave and you're chained by Agnes. It's true Miss Cecile had her very own parents killed by them, and I'm sure Sabine and Primrose want to be freed, too."

"They don't."

I tightened my hold and looked out that terrible window that overlooked Jardin.

The town was growing. The church was visible with its spires and great build. It was majestic, even more than the tower I was in.

And the children. Even in such cold weather they laughed and jumped about in scarves and hats. Were we so different that there were people who existed for the sole purpose of hunting us?

We hadn't wished for this either.

"No," I whispered. "Let me think. I'll come up with a plan, so wait."