The remaining wolves barked to each other. She knew they had picked up her distinct scent. She glanced at the tomato stain on her cloak, remembering her encounter with Sarah, and frowned.

"I'm sorry, Alfred, but I have to do this." She opened her mouth wide, extended her fangs and bit down on his neck.

He twitched, but didn't struggle. Instead, he reached for her hair again and stroked it.

Red sucked as fast as she could, draining life out of him, feeding for the very first time.

The blood fired through her veins, lightning surging in every cell in her body. An intense pain jolted inside of her, seizing at her heart, but her kept drinking. Her muscles quivered, and her vision grew hazy. Werewolf blood carried such potent qualities.

The pain subsided. Her senses sharpened, and now she saw and heard everything clearly. She had completed the rite, her first feeding. Now, she had become just like her mother. Vampires kill werewolves, and tonight she had become a true vampire.

The werewolves shot through the underbrush a few yards behind her.

She laid Alfred's empty body to the ground and snatched up the knife. Red bolted up high into the air with an intensity she had never felt before. The wolves just missed her. Again, she ran.

The rite was over. She didn't want to kill anyone else nor did she want to be killed. So, she increased her speed. The wolves did not relent. She couldn't outrun them.

She exerted even more energy, but her body had not been designed for sprinting. Even with her newfound energy and power, her legs ached and her lungs burned.

Her kind knew how to jump, and so she leaped high into the branches of a massive tree, seeking protection.

Only one wolf clawed itself up.

"I didn't know it was Alfred," she called. She didn't know that the scent from the cake was so strong that it would attract a family of werewolves.

The pursuing creature positioned its hind legs on a branch and propelled itself to the next branch. The other two growled at the tree's base. They were intent on killing her.

"The ritual is over!" She waved the blade at them. She realized her words meant nothing to them.

Three strong werewolves. Werewolves attacked her former village. Their teeth tore into men, women, and children. She saw her father ripped into pieces by two werewolves.

I'm going to die.

In the distance, she heard a horse galloping--some traveler moving down the road in the dead of night.

"It's dangerous out there," Edna had said.

If she could kill just one more...

Red narrowed her eyes, which by now were beaming a deep red. She held the silver knife over her head and stared at the wolf making its way up the tree on branch at a time. Then she dove straight down like a spear, swift and precise. Her whole body collided into the wolf, the blade sinking deep into its core.

Surprised by the attack, the wolf yelped. They both toppled down to the ground.

The wolf writhed in pain and transformed into a human girl, with blond hair. She fumbled for the hilt of the knife, but was unable to pull it out. "Ma, Ma!"

Red stepped back. Margaret Tiller had been the oldest child, a seamstress.

"It hurts!"

The blade hadn't punctured the heart directly, but the silver burned her from the inside.

The two remaining wolves rushed to Margaret's side. "Ma," the girl said and then gasped.

Red stood paralyzed by the sight of the dying girl. They were a family, she thought. Just like my family. She remembered when her parents used to go on hunts, and she would watch them. They fed mostly on animals--sometimes outlaws.

The largest wolf clamped its jaws down on her torso, just over her right hip. The creature pulled at her flesh, trying to tear her apart. The other wolf bit her left arm, bringing them to the ground.

Red screamed in pain.

The knife! Gone.

She fished a silver coin from her pocket with her right hand and jammed into the eye of the wolf at her arm. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. That wolf screeched and reeled backward. It swung its head wildly to dislodge the coin, flinging it away into the trees.

Red fumbled for the last silver coin, her energy draining.

The injured werewolf regained its composure. This must be the mother. She stalked up slowly, calculating its final blow.

The wolf at her side, relentless in its grip, jostled her about, crushing her bones. I'm going to die, Red thought.

It took all she had to stay focused on the werewolf in front of her with its mouth wide open, baring pointed teeth. She waited for the killing blow.

When the wolf snapped for her head, Red jabbed her right fist directly into its mouth. She screamed as its teeth crunched down through her bones. "You first!" she yelled, dropping the last silver coin deep into the creature's throat, which sizzled.

The animal gagged and panted. It clawed at its neck.

Red felt her body being flung into the air and heard the thud of her back breaking against a tree trunk. She slid to the ground, broken bones and missing chunks of flesh. Her body languished in a pool of blood.

Mrs. Tiller screamed in agony, a shrill woman's voice. Her husband in wolf-form licked her face and whined. Then the screaming stopped.

This was not supposed to happen. Outcasts should not have been killing outcasts, but vampires kill werewolves and werewolves kill vampires. Tonight, Red had become a vampire. Tonight, however, she also waited to die--eyes drooping as her life-blood oozed out of her wounds.

Mr. Tiller growled and approached Red's crumbled body.