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Ophelia crammed two pairs of white cotton panties into her backpack without ironing or even folding them first. The abhorrence of garlic must have something to do with the Oldbloods’ enhanced sense of smell. The sense of smell detects chemicals and carries messages to the brain, good, bad. I wish we had time to experiment with the Newbloods’ senses without getting killed or enslaved in the process.
Pulling down the Courting Eagles drawing, she slipped it out of its glass frame and placed the photograph of herself with Adrian on it. She rolled them up together and stuffed them into the backpack’s side pocket. The garlic’s scent is magnified when it’s smashed. She dug a ceramic bowl and pestle out of her chemistry set and began to grind the poppies.
Adrian blew into the room and grabbed her and her backpack. “All right, Buttercup. Enough with the Frankenstein crap. Let’s go.” He dragged her out of the room.
Ophelia kept grinding the Arctic Poppies, backpack dangling from her elbow. “Elves aren’t supposed to be vulnerable to human disease. Or is that another myth?”
“No, it’s true.” Mom was on her knees examining an assortment of fire extinguishers, paintball guns, and megaphones spread out on the floor. “Your father was a Pureblood. He could not have picked up the gene for Type-1 Diabetes from a human ancestor. He believed it was the work of dark elves a century ago.”
“What’s a dark elf?”
“An elf gone bad, of course, usually thanks to Malevolent Oldbloods.” Mom eyed a paintball in her fingers. “Elves are driven by divine instinct to help humanity, not hurt them. Or each other.”
“That’s why dad could never say no,” mumbled Bianca, passing by, “whenever someone needed something.”
Brandon perched as Raven in the birch tree outside the window, keeping watch.
Ophelia went down on her knees too, still grinding the poppies. “A fire extinguisher. That’s what you used on Martin at the Christmas party, right? I remember the swooshing sound.”
“Yep.” Adrian picked up a big, red one. “You all know how to use this?”
“I don’t.” Bianca sat cross-legged, clutching her backpack to her chest.
Adrian pointed to it. “You pull this pin. Aim for the Brynners’ eyes and press the trigger, see?”
“What about Daddy’s shotgun?”
“Bullets only piss them off.” Adrian set down the fire extinguisher and picked up a paintball gun. “They can kill each other and be killed by Oldbloods, but the best we can do is blind them with this stuff and run like hell.”
Ophelia examined the paintball cartridges. “What effect does the fire extinguisher and paintballs have on them? How do they react?”
“It temporarily blinds them.”
“Is that all? Or are you too busy beating a tactical retreat to see?”
Adrian tilted his head. “We don’t have time for scientific debate, Buttercup. I’ve been dealing with these creatures for four years, okay?”
“You suspect a reaction to the chemicals?” Mom picked up another paintball.
“Newbloods have an extraordinary sense of smell,” said Ophelia. “I’d love to see their olfactory nerves under a microscope.” She waved a finger over the fire extinguishers. “These all utilize nitrogen. And what about the paintballs? Could we suspend the chemicals from garlic or poppies in it?”
Mom turned them over in her hands. “Possibly. We’re gonna need a lab.”
“Oh! My! Dog! Will you two stop it?” Bianca dropped her stuff and shook her hands in front of her red, wet face. “The Brynners want Ophelia for dinner and you’re having a geek-fest! We need to get the hell out of here!”
“All due respect, Mom.” Adrian placed a fire extinguisher and paintball gun in each of their hands. “But, she’s right.” He glanced at the window. “We only have about an hour of daylight left. If we’re caught on the ground when it gets dark, we’re dead.”
“Lock and load.” Bianca jumped to her feet and pumped her paintball gun. A single blast of hot pink shot out and splattered the wall right next to Adrian’s head. “Sorry.”
Adrian groaned, having no time for anything else. “Okay, you guys make like you’re going visiting. I’ll watch your backs and sneak into the Bronco. Mom, you’re driving. I’m hiding in the passenger’s seat floorboard. Let’s roll.”
***
OPHELIA FOLLOWED HER mother out, wearing one of the matching red dress coats Bianca had sewn for them.
Mom carried the cake pan and cover, purse slung over shoulder. She wore a navy blue wool coat Bianca had made.
Ophelia and Bianca carried paper grocery bags, their backpacks hidden within. Cheerful birthday present paper appeared at the top of the bags. They wore their nicest outfits as if they were going to a party at the Langdons. Ribbons and lace spilled out of their collars and cuffs, complimenting their black jeans and best boots.
Stone-faced, it occurred to Ophelia as she stepped off the porch and the cold bit her nose that the Brynners, as Newbloods, could smell their fear. Mom’s a doctor. She must realize that. Our adrenaline, our sweat, and my sweet blood, they can smell it all.
Mom probably did not want to freak out Bianca any more than she already was, and there was no better plan to get them from house to garage.
Ophelia looked back at the porch as her mother raised the garage door and Bianca followed her. Will I ever see my home again?
A flapping of wings drew her attention to the birch tree across the road.
Raven shrieked and flew into the air, launching black feathers over the hood of an ebony SUV and the night.
Ophelia shoved her sister through the garage door and slammed it shut behind them. “They’re here. Guess they weren’t as worried about the daylight as we thought.”
“I need to drive, Mom.” Adrian picked up Ophelia and stuffed her into the center back seat. “It’s running and screaming time.”
Everyone else jumped in and slammed doors at once.
The Brynners’ stepped out of their black Hummer and spread out, arm’s length from each other, a powerful threesome, Martin in the middle.
Nancy Brynner spoke first. “Oh, Debi, please do not be alarmed.” Her tone slid sickly sweet from her bright lips. “We love Ophelia very much. She will serve a most enlightened purpose, and you will always be remembered as a mother-goddess. Please, send her out to us.”
“Not my daughter!” Mom readied her fire extinguisher. “Go to hell, Bitch!”
Gary Brynner shouted next. “Defying divine destiny is a mortal sin and you will all be punished.”
“Except Ophelia, of course,” said Martin. “She’s an angel.”
“What a bunch of psychos.” Mom backed hard into her seat, hands gripping her weapons.
Adrian hit the garage door opener, but it was scarcely off the floor when Martin took a step forward and was struck by Brandon in a blur of black.
Flee!
“Go, go, go!” Ophelia screamed, her senses heated and swirled and sharpened to a point.
Even as Adrian revved the engine, waiting for the garage to rise enough for them to escape, the other Newbloods pounced on Brandon, shrieking.
The door cleared the SUV’s top and Adrian hit the gas, taking advantage of the distraction. With a great roar, they launched free and barreled down the snowy road.
Ophelia snagged on the Newblood frenzy. “Brandon.”
In an instant, he shot up and was struck in the chest by the clawed hands of each Brynner and in a flash of red energy he slammed into the road.
Brandon’s death struck her in the chest. Ophelia.
And he was gone.
Ophelia’s mouth opened to cry but nothing came out. My little brother!
No one else reacted as they raced down the neighborhood road. They hadn’t felt it. Too terrorized with the chase.
Ophelia gripped her paintball gun to stop her shaking, but it didn’t work. Brandon. Please. Hear me.
Nothing.
Grief shook her.
Mom screamed, looking back through her window. “Oh, shit.”
Ophelia wheeled around to see Nancy Brynner chasing them on all fours in high heels, a demonic lady panther from tree to tree, the law of gravity holding no sway over her.
Mom put down her window and blasted Nancy in the face with a red paintball.
Nancy Brynner fell, shrieking.
Ophelia’s door tore away, and Martin grabbed her arm.
Bianca grabbed Ophelia as Mom blasted Martin in the face with a red paintball.
Martin reeled back, end over end on the icy road.
Then, they were engulfed by the Alaskan wilderness and the last shred of human civilization disappeared behind them.
“They’ve cut us off the road to the Langdons.” Adrian shouted, wrenching the steering wheel as the first snowflakes hit the windshield. “They’re pushing us into the woods.”
The wipers beat the snow away as it rushed at the windshield, but there was no stopping the Brynners’ pursuit.
“They killed Daddy!” Bianca put down her window and blasted Gary Brynner’s face with a paintball.
Ophelia’s next thought was that it was all but over.
Deep in the frozen Alaskan wilderness, they were no match for three superhumans. Joseph. But he was too far away. Grandma.
Gary Brynner leapt ahead from tree to tree, striking one down in front so that it fell directly into the road.
Adrian jerked the steering wheel and the SUV slammed through a berm, nose first into a snow-covered wild rose thicket. The seatbelts held them fast.
Doors ripped off, Gary grabbed Adrian and Nancy grabbed Mom.
Bianca was nothing but a hysterical nuisance they didn’t have time to silence yet.
Martin yanked Ophelia out of the Bronco. “Shh, it’s all right, my Sweet.” He hugged her close and kissed her ear. “I’ve rescued you. Here.” He placed the doll, Muffy, in her arms. “You see? Everything will be all right.”
Another body slammed into Martin, and Ophelia was flung like a rag doll through the air.
A tree splinter cut across her forehead as her face went into the snow. She pushed out with both hands and rolled over. The river’s roar filled her ears.
Jean-Pierre gathered her up and licked the gash. “Mmm, you really are sweet.” His chest an icy rock, he leapt and ran with her through the woods
Wind biting her lips, Ophelia dug the garlic out of her jeans pocket and crammed it into his eyes.
Jean-Pierre growled, hand to eyes, and ran over a fallen log, hurling them both forward.
Hitting the ground again, she scrambled away.
Jean-Pierre caught her and stood. “You’re a little spitfire.”
Martin landed in front of him and reached forth his hands like claws. “Release the Sweet.”
Jean-Pierre dropped Ophelia and charged in a blur.
The two clashed in red energy and Martin lifted Jean-Pierre over his head. He threw his adversary like so much garbage over the cliff.
Jean-Pierre held tight and Martin went over with him.
Somewhere, Adrian screamed.
“Adrian.” Ophelia tried to get up.
From far on the other side of the road, a tremendous growl split the forest, a great bear charging to Adrian’s aide. Large and brown, she crashed through the branches and undergrowth, shaking snow off low-hanging branches. She grabbed Gary’s head in her massive jaws and ripped it away from his shoulders, slinging it off the cliff.
Still, Adrian was nowhere to be seen.
“Mommy.” Bianca’s scream cut through the chaos.
Ophelia turned in time to see her mother’s head strike a small cottonwood trunk.
Mom slumped to the snowy ground, unconscious.
Screaming, Bianca fell beside her. “Mommy. Mommy.”
Nancy Brynner turned away from assaulting her mother.
Ophelia saw a backpack sliding out of a bag next to their wrecked SUV and hoped it was hers. She lunged for it, but Mrs. Brynner’s steel-like arms locked onto her.
Mrs. Brynner purred into her ear and sniffed. “Mmm, so Sweet.”
“Traitor.” Martin strode toward them, not minding the snow or ice, face red, eyes harsh yellow, a dark warrior into battle. “The Sweet is mine.”
“If not for you, we would have taken possession a long time ago.” Mrs. Brynner crushed Ophelia to one side.
Martin charged his mother with both clawed hands, forcing them at her chest.
Mrs. Brynner didn’t let go of Ophelia and she didn’t have time to scream. She slammed into the ground in a red flash, dead at the hands of her own son.
The heat, the squeeze, Ophelia sucked at the air.
Martin peeled his mother’s arm and fingers off Ophelia and picked her up. “My poor Sweet. I love you so much.”
I am his drug. She drew breath.