It was raining again, heavily, a day or two after my talk with Cecile. That morning Yves and Uriel rushed to my room eagerly after they had breakfast. They looked ver their shoulders, paranoid, voices in a hush.

"Can you sneak out?"

"Hurry!"

"Get dressed!" Both were talking over one another. I made a pained face.

"Can you talk one at a time?"

"We can sneak out!" Yves was saying, "We need you to get used to shooting."

"The rain here is so loud a gunshot probably won't be heard," Uriel said.

"It's raining, won't you humans die from the wetness and cold?" I asked, frowning. It wasn't a good morning. I felt lethargic, tired, even.

"I went with you last time, Margery, did I die?"

"So as Uriel said, we'll be waiting for you downstairs. Back door."

Yves smiled innocently and Uriel, unaware, nodded in confirmation.

"This is the perfect opportunity."

"Are you two wrong in the head?" I looked down for a long time and finally up. "Fine. If I get caught you two will be slaughtered, though." But I would be in the dungeon, too. What a pain.

It didn't take long for them pull on their jackets, and when they returned I had on a thick dress but no outerwear. Always the gentleman, Uriel gave his up for me, and then Yves insisted he not because I was a vampire.

"They are built to withstand the cold."

He wasn't wrong, but I was supposed to reject Uriel. Growling, I turned and sighed. "Let's hurry."

Downstairs I watched out for Sabine and Primrose. Hopefully Gregoire and Cecile, the lovebirds, were too busy to mind us, so we left from one of the escape doors we had to crawl out of. I dragged my dress through the mud and could barely keep my breath in, but I did. Uriel pulled me out when I was frozen.

"Something is strange with you, did something happen?" he asked, warily.

"No!"

"Then why are you so frustrated?" His eyes made contact with mine, and I ran my hands through my hair, already wet from the rain.

"What? I can't hear you," I lied.

We were outside and Yves gave me the rifle. It was as heavy as I remembered and I turned it around in my hand before he grabbed it and turned to the back. He had to speak loudly into my ear because the rain was pounding on the castle.

"Load the bullets like this. It's called a chamber. Always fill it up or you'll have empty shots—"

"What?" I actually couldn't understand him for once.

"Just fill it like he's saying," Uriel explained. Well, not explained, because I knew anyways.

His hands held mine before taking the rifle Yves was handing us. I thought of what Cecile told me. Touch. He was touching me. He liked me.

Oh no, Yves is going to kill me.

Wait. No, he won't, because Uriel likes you. Loves you, even.

I looked at Uriel and smirked. Despite everything, he was in love with me. Those fake times he acted like he was calm his heart must've been beating like mad, every time he sketched me he must've been aroused...

"Margery!" Yves shouted. "Pay attention! I need to drill this into you."

"I'm listening!" I hollered back. He wiped the water off his face and I realized how he was squinting and panting.

I had forgotten, it was much more painful for them than it was for me; in fact, it was painless for me. The rain was nice, like a soft massage.

"Hold it, pointing at your target, let's say that branch right there." Yves spoke, and Uriel held my hand with the gun up. I suppose he was learning too. "Then put your finger on the trigger, and make sure you're using your dominant eye to check the target it right before—"

Bang!

My arm recoiled, but Uriel was still grabbing firmly onto me. There was a branch that fell, but not the one I was targeting at.

I was shaking, horrified by what a small movement could do. It had so much force I was going to drop it. It was so strong. It would kill Agnes. Any vampire. I held in my fear and listened to what Uriel was saying.

"Hold it with all your strength," he said. I looked up to his face, but it was stern, not at all like a love-stricken man. I turned back to the rifle.

"I was."

"That was awful. Let's try something closer." Yves pointed at a rock in a mud, and gestured for us to move our rifle.

"Now let her try by herself, Uriel."

Uriel let go of his hands and I was suddenly aware of the cold rainwater. I sucked in my breath before steadying my hand. I was afraid of the recoil and my ears rang. It was loud and—and I didn't want to do it.

"Shoot."

There was no movement. My arms couldn't hold still and I wasn't pointing to the rock.

"I said shoot!" Yves yelled. "We don't have all day!"

"I know! I know!" I shouted. I tried to quiet my heart and all I felt was the metal, the tremors that were in my arm and limp wrist. "I've got it."

I pulled the trigger, and there was a louder noise. I jumped back and dropped the rifle. I held myself with my arms and then Uriel came to me.

"Margery, it's fine. You did it. You know how to do it."

"I—I—"

I wanted to deny my weakness, but I couldn't. And he could tell.

"Do you—" I wanted to ask, do you love me? But I couldn't. "Do you mind walking me back?"

"Yes, we'll return. It was a good shot." I was pulling away when he pointed at the rock. "You got it."

It was less than three meters away. It was maybe equal to a person standing across me in a room. I knew how to shoot.

I knew how to kill.

"I see," I whispered.

Yves cleaned his rifle with his handkerchief, but it was damp, so he continued until we were in the staircase, following us. When we were in the castle Yves tucked it away, and Uriel let go of me.

"I want to rest," I said, and then turned away, relieved.

I ran up, to my tower, and the two knew not to follow. Closing my eyes and leaning down, I realized the fear. I didn't want to kill.

All those men were easy.

Those humans.

But now it was my family, Agnes, or whoever got in my way—Selma, Rowena, maybe even Primrose. No, not her. I couldn't bear to. Much less the children or anyone. Blood didn't scare me, but that bang made me feel so small.

I closed my eyes and, unused to crying, laid there, my dress soaking the bedsheets, my hands still trembling.

There was a knock.

"It's me, Uriel."

I hesitated. "Come in."

The door opened and there he was, hair damp and in a new outfit. He had changed so quickly.

"Can I do anything to help?" he asked quietly.

"Hah. There's only one thing, and you know."

"Then come, suck my blood."

I looked at him in horror, but he wasn't lying. He closed the door and came to me. He took a pocket knife from his pocket and opening it, held it to his arm, rolling back the sleeves.

"Uriel?"

"Do you want a bottle or bowl?" he asked casually.

"Don't play with me like this," I said, but my eyes didn't leave it.

"It won't be a big cut."

I didn't even realize it, but I was already walking to him, and then placed my cold fingers on his arm, my hair trickling water down my back, making me excited. My heart raced and I was so hungry, in another way.

"Uriel?"

"You're impatient," he said. Then he cut his arm.

It was not a deep cut, but enough to make blood trickle. Then it bursted a little and was gushing. Maybe it was deeper than it seemed.

I leaned down and licked upwards.

It was like water to me, so different from Sabine's, and so different from those human men whose blood tasted of terror and something sour.

Uriel's, though, was the best one I've drank. I licked and then sucked, and he seemed to move a little, but I was grabbing his arm. I would not waste a drop.

"It was scary, wasn't it? But you did a good job," Uriel said about the rifle training today.

I was drinking, and too focused to reply.

"I'm sorry, I wish I didn't have to ask such a favor of you. I owe you."

If it weren't for the blood, maybe I would've noticed. Noticed his expression, the lies he was hiding.

I pulled back a little to talk. "I love your blood."

"I'm glad. It's the least I can give."

I was too easily reassured I couldn't fight back. I closed my eyes, my whole body wet and cold, as I liked it, and there was still the taste of blood in my mouth. I licked my lips and then held his arm again.

"I will not be fettered by that. My choice has been made and I've decided."

He put a hand on my cheek, and smiled. I reached up, lips across from his, but then I pulled away. I didn't want to seduce him, I had his blood already. I knew if I asked, he'd give it to me just the same. It was nothing I had to lie or trick him into.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not really."

"Liar. Vampires like Sabine can clot their blood, but yours keeps flowing, doesn't it?"

"Then drink it."

"I will." I paused. "Next time, next time I'll bite you. Two pinches can heal faster. As long as it's not deep enough in your vein. I won't drink from your neck." I was talking a lot, but they came to me, thought after thought. How long would this peace last, this illusion of safety and happiness? Not after Agnes' death

"It doesn't matter to me, I'm always going to be here."

"You promise? Even after Agnes dies, right? And you'll take Adalyn, Bernadette, and Lark with us, right? And maybe Sabine and Primrose. We can leave Selma and Rowena back, they are too old."

"Anything you want."

His hand was still on my cheek, and his gaze soft, at my lips. He looked different, too, hair now at his neck, parting in the middle of his head after getting wet.

"It reminds me of that time we went in the rain," he said. Then he removed his hand and held out his arm again. It was still dipping with blood, so I leaned over and licked at it, again and again, slowly.

Touches that made you feel safe. Made you warm, but inside. Made you feel stirred up and unable to think.

The day he knew I wasn't feeling good and left with Yves.

The times he checked up on me.

The gentle, innocent touches unfettered by lust.

The smiles I had began to work to make him smile because I loved it—

Was it Uriel who loved I at that time, or was it I who loved him?