Poison Tree

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The dead girl had a thick rope around her throat, attached to a chain hooked into the wall. Sisal bonds held her wrists behind her back. If she had been able to shapeshift, that rope would have burst or blended into her form, but the innocent eleven-year-old girl who had been bound, beaten, and murdered had been human, nothing more.

I failed you. I’m so sorry.

The survivor looked up at the sound of a sti ed gasp of pain; someone was moving across the room, through a pile of what she had thought were dead bodies. She couldn’t summon fear, not with a corpse in her arms that had once been a little girl she had sworn to protect.

The vampire pushed himself to his hands and knees slowly, painfully. Though bones broke the bloodied surface of his skin, he still moved toward her and said, “We have to get out of here.”

She remembered this one now. He had spoken up against his leader and refused to help torture the human girl.

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