Due to the nature of the 50 Flavors series and the path that it will take, I do not trust putting any more of it on here and instead will only be posting it on Archive of Our Own. Look for me there as Cysteine, as well as on Tumblr under Cysteine-Snape-Writes

A/N: And I'm back for the second book. Issues with 50SD: Christian stalks Ana at work, offers to take her to Jose's Photography thing just to rub it in that she is his and that Jose can't have her, and he's manipulating her with guilt over his sadness to get her back. He then proceeds to buy all of Jose's (disturbingly creepy photographic fixation) large portraits of Ana so that others can't ogle her. Ana isn't your property and you don't own her image. He ignores her complaints about his intimidating her, which is a massive red flag for abusers... they can't handle criticism. Hopefully you see why I switched this out for the Adonis Festival and Hunt.

A/N #2: A big thank you goes out to my de-facto beta, Devlin Grace. Go read her Amice Coven Series, it's got more steamy girl-on-girl-on-girl stuff in the HP 'verse. (Now quit nudging me on Words with Friends, I've got smut to write!) So I may have made three cameo appearances by some amazing creampuffs I know. See if you can spot them!

Prologue
(Carmilla's Point-of-View, Brazil, 1787)

He's come back. Mother had to know I've been captured by these zealots by now. My right eye is swollen shut from the beating I was given as they restrained me and started dousing me with holy water, burning me like acid as I saw clumps of my hair fall away from my scalp and splatter onto the floor.

Is it any wonder I denounced God, if this is what their followers do in his name?

I have grown numb to the silver cord that burns and bites into my flesh as I'm bound and shackled to this iron cross. He thinks my soul is something worth saving, apparently. Across the room I see a less fortunate girl who is nearly dead from the 'interrogation'. All because they thought she was a witch for having red hair. If she were a witch, wouldn't she have done something to escape?

He hits the girl with a belt. "Get up! Get up, you witch! Get up, witch! Get up, get up, witch!" She is shackled with iron onto the floor, and makes a pitiable, sobbing noise. "Stop. Please stop."

She doesn't scream like I thought she would. Like she should. Instead, she curls up small, hoping to be spared from more hits. Some days he only strikes a few times, other days he goes for hours. The blood smells thin when she bleeds, and I know it wouldn't be a substantial meal if I drank her down. The jailer doesn't seem much more appetizing, as he smells of stale drink and faintly of urine. Oh God, I'm looking at people like flavors again. How long have I been starved from having blood?

I close my eyes and wait for the sounds to stop. He does, and I can smell and hear him turn and stomp towards me.

"Will you repent for your sins?"

"I cannot apologize for what I am, you dimwit."

He stoops down and grins. He smells nasty. Of cigarettes and drink. There you are, you little shit.

"Then you will face the wrath of God."

"And you are going to face the wrath of one pissed off Mother."

He presses a silver cross firmly against my flesh, just above my left breast. I smell the burning flesh a second before the searing pain hits me. Bastards found out about my weakness, and they are being right bastards about it.

The fiery pain slices through my skin and it feels like he's burning the bone beneath it, and I have never wanted someone dead as much as this man before me. My eyes are shut in pain as I hiss, forcing myself to not wail in pain because he would enjoy hearing it.

The pain subsided as I heard a gasp of air escape with a familiar gurgle, and I smiled as I opened my left eye to see the man's throat being torn into as he would quickly die by exsanguination.

"Mother, save me some, I haven't even had so much as a rat for a week." I said, surprised as I realized the woman before me wasn't Mother, my maker. It was Elladora. Her golden-blond hair was drenched in blood, making it look almost black in the dim lighting. Silver eyes shone back at me, and her fangs dripped with blood.

All of the torture I had received for the past week was nothing in comparison to seeing the woman I loved turned into a monster, the very same monster she claimed to be disgusted by when Mother outed me to her. Stone cannot love flesh, she said. If she turned Elladora as a mercy so that she and I could be together, then she didn't understand why I loved her in the first place. My love turned towards me, and my stomach turned at the sight of her gorging herself on blood.

"Carmilla? Is that you?"

I nodded, disliking the look of disgust she gave me. "Mother sent me to come get you." Mother? No... this can't be happening. Elladora had hated finding out that I was a vampire, had gone out of her way to tell the Priests who quickly informed the Portuguese Inquisition and she had lured me to a trap where they caught and tortured me. So much for love.

Elladora rifled through the dead body's possessions, found the keys, and began to free me. I sagged to the ground, thirst consuming me as I growled and crawled to the nearest source of blood to sustain myself. The redhead was still huddled, shaking in fear.

"God protect me, I am not a witch! God protect me, I am not a witch! God protect me..."

I felt sick as my teeth closed over her neck, and I bit deeply into muscle and flesh as I fed on all of her blood. God damn me, for she is not a witch...

I have survived Day Two Post-Carmilla, and my second day at work. It has been a welcome distraction. The time has flown by in a haze of new faces, work to do, and working with my new boss, Mr. James Stevenson. He smiles down at me, his blue eyes twinkling, as he leans against my desk.

"Excellent work, Laura. I think we're going to make a great team."

Somehow, I manage to curl my lips upward in a semblance of a smile.

"I'll be off, if that's okay with you," I murmur.

"Of course, it's five thirty. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, Laura."

Collecting my bag, I shrug on my jacket and head for the door. Out in the early evening air, I take a deep breath. It doesn't begin to fill the void in my chest, a void that's been present since Sunday night, a painful hollow reminder of my loss. I walk toward the bus stop with my head down, staring at my feet and contemplating being without Baby Smaug, the Smart car. I named her and had to give her back. I couldn't swallow my pride and keep that as a gift.

I shut the door on that thought immediately. No. Don't think about her. Of course, I can't afford a car—so I dismiss it and try to keep my mind as numb and as blank as possible. I can't think about her. I don't want to start crying again— not out on the street.

The dorm feels empty. I miss Betty, and I imagine her lying on a beach sipping a cool cocktail. I turn on my laptop and play something on netflix so there's noise to fill the vacuum and provide some semblance of company, but I don't listen or watch. I sit and stare blankly at the brick wall. I am numb. I feel nothing but the pain. How long must I endure this?

There is a knock at my door, which startles me from my anguish, and my heart skips a beat. Who could that be?

"Delivery for Ms. Hollis." A bored, disembodied voice answers, and disappointment crashes through me. I open the door and find a young woman noisily chewing gum, holding a large cardboard box. I sign for the package and close the door. The box is huge and surprisingly light. Inside are two dozen long-stemmed, bi-colored white and red roses with a card.

Congratulations on your first day at work. I hope it went well.
-Carmilla

I stare at the typed card, the hollow in my chest expanding. No doubt, her assistant sent this. Carmilla probably had very little to do with it. It's too painful to think about. I examine the roses—they are beautiful, and I can't bring myself to throw them in the trash. Dutifully, I make my way into the kitchen to hunt down a vase.

And so a pattern develops: wake, work, cry, sleep. Well, try to sleep. I can't even escape her in my dreams. Dark burning eyes, her lost look, her getting beaten and bleeding for Mrs. Robinson haunts me. And the music.. so much music—I cannot bear to hear any music. I am careful to avoid it at all costs.

I have spoken to no one, not even my father. I don't have the capacity for idle talk now. I want none of it. I have become my own island state. A ravaged, war-torn land where nothing grows and the horizons are bleak. Yes, that's me. I can interact impersonally at work, but that's it. If I talk to dad, I know I will break even further—and I have nothing left to break.

I am finding it difficult to eat. By Wednesday lunchtime, I manage a cup of yogurt, and it's the first thing I've eaten since Sunday. I can't even my favorite pastries. I am surviving on a new found tolerance for lattes and Coke Zero. It's the caffeine that keeps me going, but it's making me anxious.

James has started to hover over me, irritating me, asking me personal questions. What does he want? I'm polite, but I need to keep him at arm's length. I sit and begin trawling through a pile of correspondence addressed to him, and I'm pleased with the distraction of menial work. My e-mail pings, and I quickly check to see who it's from.

Thursday morning, I find an e-mail from Carmilla. Oh no, not here . . . not at work.

Forgive this intrusion at work. I hope that it's going well. Did you get my flowers? I note that Friday is the Adonis Festival and Hunt and I'm sure you've not had time to purchase a car, and it's a long drive. I would be more than happy to take you—should you wish. Let me know.
-Carmilla Karnstein

Tears swim in my eyes. I hastily leave my desk and bolt to the restroom to escape into one of the stalls. Danny's hunt is out in the nearby forest. I'd forgotten all about it, and I promised her I'd go. Shit, Carmilla is right; how am I going to get there?

I clutch my forehead. Why hasn't Danny phoned? Come to think of it—why hasn't anyone phoned? I've been so absentminded, I haven't noticed that my cell phone has been silent.

How did she get my e-mail address? She knows I am working here, so an e-mail address might be posted on the company website. She was upset to find out I got hired by the company she was investing in, after I asked her to not exert her influence.

Can I see her again? Could I bear it? Do I want to see her? I close my eyes and tilt my head back as grief and longing lance through me. Of course I do.

Perhaps, perhaps I can tell her I've changed my mind... No, I cannot be with someone who takes pleasure in inflicting pain, particularly someone who can't love - memories flash through my mind - the big cat sanctuary, holding hands, kissing, the skype session, her gentleness, her humor, her violin playing, and her dark, brooding, sexy stare.

I miss her. It's been four days, four days of agony that has felt like an eternity. I wrap my arms around my body, hugging myself tightly, holding myself together. I miss her. I really miss her... I love her.

I cry myself to sleep at night, wishing I hadn't walked out, wishing that she could be different, wishing that we were together. How long will this hideous overwhelming feeling last? I am in purgatory.

Hollis, you are at work!

I must be strong, but I want to go to Danny's event, and deep down, the masochist in me wants to see Carmilla. Taking a deep breath, I head back to my desk.

Hi Carmilla. Thank you for the flowers; they are lovely. Yes, I would appreciate a lift. Thank you.
Laura

Checking my phone, I decide to quickly call Danny.

"Hi, Danny. It's Laura."

"Hello, stranger." Her tone is so warm and welcoming it's almost enough to push me over the edge again.

"I can't talk long. What time should I be there tomorrow for your thing?"

"You're still coming?" She sounds excited.

"Yes, of course." I smile my first genuine smile in five days as I picture her broad grin.

"Seven thirty."

"See you then. Good-bye, Danny."

"Bye, Laura."

What time shall I collect you?
-Carmilla Karnstein

Danny's thing starts at 7:30. What time would you suggest?
Laura

The staging area is some distance away. I shall collect you at six. I look forward to seeing you.
-Carmilla Karnstein

I'm going to see Carmilla, and for the first time in five days, my spirits lift a fraction and I allow myself to wonder how she's been. Has she missed me? Probably not like I've missed her. Has she found a new submissive from wherever they come from? The thought is so painful that I dismiss it immediately. I look at the pile of correspondence I need to sort for James and tackle it as I try to push Carmilla out of my mind once more.

That night in bed, I toss and turn, trying to sleep. It is the first time in a while I haven't cried myself to sleep. In my mind's eye, I visualize Carmilla's face the last time I saw her as I left her apartment. Her tortured expression haunts me. I remember she didn't want me to go, which was odd. How is she doing now? Has she already moved on, and just trying to play nice or trying to win me back?

I decide to make a phone call, considering my closest friends are living with and working for her. Perry answers after a few rings.

"Hey, Perry."

"Laura, um... hi." I hear some rustling in the background. "Hey, I'm going to put you on speakerphone, okay?"

"Um, who else is there?" I ask.

LaFontaine's voice cuts in. "Who do you think?"

"Hi, LaFontaine."

There is a pause and I can't help but blurt it out. "How has she been doing?"

Perry tsk'ed. "You know we can't talk about that."

I frown at that. "Has she found a new girlfriend?"

LaFontaine scoffed at that. "No, worse."

"Worse?" What could be worse? She found submissive number 17? She ran back to Mrs Robinson?

"No, she started... drinking again."

"Susan!"

"La. Fontaine."

Perry must have taken me off of speakerphone, as I could hear her say in a hushed voice, "We signed an NDA."

"Well, I can still be an... unofficial truth speaker..."

"I like my job, LaF. Besides, she left Carmilla." Perry shushed her friend and put it back to speakerphone mode.

I decide to speak up. "So she's dealing by being a drunk?" That seems pretty un-Carmilla of her...

LaFontaine replied immediately. "She can't actually-"

"-she's dealing. But she does miss you." Perry said apologetically. Why would I stay when things had reached such an impasse? We were each skirting around our own issues—my fear of punishment, her fear of... what? Love?

"And I miss her. Doesn't change anything."

Turning on my side, I hang up and hug my yellow pillow, filled with an overwhelming sadness.

She thinks she doesn't deserve to be loved. Why does she feel that way? Is it something to do with her upbringing? Her birth mom, the whore? My thoughts plague me into the early hours until eventually I fall into a fitful, exhausted sleep.

The day drags and drags and James is unusually attentive. I suspect it's the plum dress and the black heeled boots I've stolen from 'my' closet in Carmilla's place, but I don't want to dwell on the thought. I resolve to go clothes shopping with my first paycheck, and have all this returned. The dress is looser on me than it was when I tried it on before, but I pretend not to notice. Finally, it's five thirty, and I collect my jacket and purse, trying to quell my nerves. I'm going to see her!

"Do you have a date tonight?" James asks as he strolls past my desk on his way out.

"Yes. No. Not really." He cocks an eyebrow at me, his interest clearly piqued.

"Boyfriend?" I flush.

"No, a friend. An ex-girlfriend." Both eyebrows are up now. Yeah, not that it's any of your business.

"Maybe Monday you'd like to come for a drink after work. You've had a stellar first week, Laura. We should celebrate." He smiles and some unknown emotion flits across his face, making me uneasy. Is this some lesbian fetish? Ugh. Putting his hands in his pockets, he saunters through the double doors. I frown at his retreating back. Drinks with the boss, is that a good idea? I shake my head. I have an evening of Carmilla Karnstein to get through first. How am I going to do this? I hurry into the restroom to change into my best denims, trainers, and my grey whovian shirt and make some last-minute adjustments to my hair. In the large mirror on the wall, I take a long, hard look at my face. I am my usual pale self, dark circles round my too-large eyes. I look gaunt, haunted. I apply some mascara and eyeliner, hoping the color helps hide my paleness. Tidying my hair so that it hangs artfully down my back, I take a deep breath. This will have to do.

Nervously I walk through the foyer with a smile and a wave to Lana at reception. I think she and I could become friends. James is talking to Elsie as I head for the doors. Smiling broadly, he hurries over to open them for me."After you, Laura," he murmurs. "Thank you." I smile, embarrassed. I can get a door for myself, it's actually awkward that you came over here to do that. It's different if he were going out the door first and I was right behind him. Does he think that he should get a cookie or my approval for doing this for me?

Outside on the curb, Kirsch is waiting. He opens the rear door of the Jeep. I glance hesitantly at James who has followed me out. He's looking toward the Jeep SUV in dismay. I turn and climb into the back, and there she sits—Carmilla Karnstein—wearing her skin-tight leather pants, black tank top, and a black tactical leather jacket that made me think of Max from Dark Angel.

She was exuding the grace and litheness of an apex predator as her dark eyes feasted on me. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her. She looks glorious... except she's scowling at me.

"When did you last eat?" she snaps as Kirsch closes the door behind me. Right. This crap.

"Hello, Carmilla. Yes, it's nice to see you, too."

"I don't want your smart mouth now. Answer me." Her eyes blaze.

"I've eaten as much as you've drank lately." I snap back at her.

"When did you last have a proper meal?" she asks acidly.

Kirsch slips into the driver's seat, starts the car, and pulls out into the traffic. I glance up and James is waving at me, though how he can see me through the dark glass, I don't know. I wave back. "Who's that?" Carmilla snaps.

"My boss." I peek up at the beautiful woman beside me, and her mouth is pressed into a hard line.

"Well? Your last meal?"

"Carmilla, that really is none of your concern," I murmur, feeling extraordinarily brave.

"Your health and well-being concerns me. Tell me."

"No, it really doesn't." I groan in frustration, rolling my eyes heavenward, and Carmilla narrows her eyes. She reminds me of Grumpy Cat. And for the first time in a long time, I want to laugh. I try hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to bubble up. Carmilla's face softens as I struggle to keep a straight face, and I see a trace of a smile kiss her beautifully sculptured lips.

"Well?" she asks, her voice softer.

"Tell me about your drinking first." I whisper. She closes her eyes as fury and possibly regret, sweeps across her face.

"I see," she says, her voice expressionless. "You look like you've lost at least five pounds, possibly more since then. Please try to eat, Cupcake," she scolds.

I stare down at the knotted fingers in my lap. Why does she make me feel like an errant child? She shifts and turns toward me.

"I haven't been hungry lately; you know, the grief." Carmilla's eyes meet mine, and where mine are blinking back angry tears, hers seem to flinch with guilt.

"Yeah, I know that feeling. Other than that, how have you been?" she asks, her voice still soft.

Well, I'm shit really... I swallow.

"If I told you I was fine, I'd be lying."

She inhales sharply. "Me, too," she murmurs and reaches over and clasps my hand. "I miss you," she adds. Skin against skin, that simple touch I've been craving...

"Carmilla, I—"

"Laura, please. We need to talk." I'm going to cry. I shake my head no.

"Carmilla, I . . . please . . . I've cried so much, too much..." I whisper, trying to keep my emotions in check. "You said that I could walk away at any time, and that you wouldn't stop me. But then that would be it."

"Oh, baby, no." She tugs my hand, and before I know it I'm in her arms, my head on her shoulder. She has her arms around me, and her nose is in my hair.

"I've missed you so much, Cupcake," she breathes. I feel like I should want to struggle out of her hold, to maintain some distance, but her arms are wrapped around me and I don't want to lose this. If this is only temporary I'll drink up every last second before I have to leave again. She's holding me as I melt. This is where I want to be. I nuzzle my head against her, and she kisses my forehead. This is home. She smells of linen, incense, and my favorite smell— Carmilla. For a moment, I allow myself the illusion that all will be well, and it soothes my ravaged soul. A few minutes later Kirsch pulls to a stop at the curb, and I blink as I try to get my bearings. We're still in the city.

"Come"—Carmilla shifts me off her lap—"order up." What? I see we're at a Sonic.

"You're going to want some food in you before tonight. Tater tots okay?" Carmilla glances toward the menu by way of explanation. Of course. Food. Kirsch lowers his window and orders himself an extra long cheese coney and an ocean water, while Carmilla gets a #1 Cheeseburger combo with a cherry limeaid. She gives me a warm, avuncular smile that makes me feel safe. I smile back.

"Um, Onion rings, junior bacon cheeseburger, plain with no pickles or lettuce."

"Want a drink?"

I shrug. "I'll share yours, but I get your cherry." I say, smiling shyly.

"You cheeky girl." Carmilla replies as Kirsch makes the order and pays for it. I flush as Carmilla takes my hand in hers. She looks quizzically at Kirsch who stares impassively back at her, revealing nothing.

"Good?" Carmilla says to him.

"Yes, ma'am." Carmilla nods as she turns and faces me. I revel in the feel of her hand and her long, skilled fingers curled around mine. I feel the familiar pull—I am drawn, Icarus to her sun. I have been burned already, and yet here I am again.

I peek up at her, and she's wearing her enigmatic half smile. She glances at me, dark eyes alive, and it's there in the air between us, that electricity. It's palpable. I can almost taste it, pulsing between us, drawing us together. I gasp as I bask briefly in the intensity of this visceral, primal attraction.

"I feel it, too, sweetness." she says, silver flecks shining in her intense eyes. Desire pools dark and deadly in my groin. She clasps my hand and grazes my knuckles with her lips, and all my muscles clench tightly, deliciously, deep inside me. How can she still do this to me?

"Please don't bite your lip, Cupcake," she whispers. I gaze up at her, releasing my lip. I want her. Here, now, in the SUV. How could I not?

"You know what it does to me," she murmurs. I still affect her. Abruptly the windows lower, breaking the spell, and we're getting our food. My hunger is ravenous as I tear into it, savoring the bacon and cheese as Kirsch gets us underway.

"How's the new job?"

"Good, thank you. Interesting."

"What's your boss like?"

"Oh, he's okay." How can I tell Carmilla that James makes me uncomfortable? Carmilla turns and gazes at me.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Aside from the obvious, nothing."

"The obvious?"

"Oh, Carmilla, you really are very obtuse sometimes."

"Obtuse? Me? I'm not sure I appreciate your tone, Miss Hollis."

"Well, don't appreciate my tone all you want. I'm going to enjoy some tater tots." Her lips twitch into a smile.

"I have missed your smart mouth." I gasp and I want to shout, I've missed you—all of you—not just your mouth! But I keep quiet and gaze out the window as we continue on. The dusk is to our right, the sun low on the horizon—large, blazing fiery orange— and I am Icarus again, flying far too close. The sky is awash with opal, pinks, and aquamarines woven seamlessly together as only Mother Nature knows how.

It's a clear, crisp evening, as we're pulling into a makeshift parking lot just outside of a heavily wooded area. It's windy, and without a jacket, I'm cold.

"Good burger, Miss Hollis?" she asks, her voice mild, her dark eyes penetrating me.

"Yes, thank you, Ms. Karnstein," I reply politely.

"Well, let's go join the hunt." She holds her hand out to me and taking it, I climb out of the Jeep. A young woman with long curly auburn hair sporting black war paint in the shape of the batman logo over her face walks over to meet us, smiling broadly, and I recognize Levi as one of Danny's friends from the Summer Society.

"Welcome to the Adonis Festival! Oh-" she looked awestruck at us there, and Carmilla smiled politely as Levi apparently fan-girled.

"Yeah, hi." Carmilla said sheepishly. That's when I realized that she was looking at me as she pulled out her radio and clicked it on.

"Ginge to Xena: Gabrielle has landed. Repeat, Gabrielle has landed." She beamed at the pair of us. "Danny's really glad you could make it out here."

I tried to smile, feeling awkward at getting this kind of reception. "Okay, cool."

"Is this like some sort of Lilith Fair/Michigan Womyns Music Festival kind of thing?" Carmilla asked.

Levi shook her head. "Not at all; the Summer Society is radically inclusive organization and accepts everyone who identifies as part of the sisterhood, including transguys, transwomen, agender, twospirit, and genderqueer people."

"Here I thought you were just some sort of sapphic sorrority society." I glanced over and saw Carmilla using her seductive gaze to purposefully unnerve Levi. Do I have to put sunglasses on her in order to protect other girls from that gaze?

"Um, well, uh..." She shuddered slightly. "Please follow the arrows so you both can sign in and qualify at the archery range."

My anxiety has returned full force, and I realize that our time in the Jeep has been the eye of the storm. Carmilla is quiet and brooding . . . apprehensive even; our lighter mood from earlier has dissipated. There's so much I want to say, but the time is wrong. Carmilla stares pensively out into the woods.

"Danny is just a friend," I murmur. Carmilla turns and gazes at me, her eyes dark and guarded, giving nothing away. Her mouth—oh, her mouth is distracting, and unbidden. I remember it on me—everywhere. My skin heats. She shifts visibly and frowns.

"Sorry, I am smelling something... off."

"Well, you just forced me to eat fast food." She arched an eyebrow at me. TMI, Hollis!

"You haven't eaten well lately, sweetness, and I..." She turns her head abruptly, sniffing the air. "Does your friend Danny have a dog?"

Dog? I shake my head, confused. "Don't try and change the subject, Carmilla."

She sighs, distracted.

"I don't want to fight with you, Cupcake. I want you back, and I want you healthy for..." she drifts off.

What? What does that mean?

"But nothing's changed." You're still fifty flavors of fucked up.

"Let's talk about this on the way back. We're here." Carmilla says, following the signs for the staging area of the Adonis Festival and Hunt.

Carmilla takes the lead, leaving me speechless. "Why do you do that?" My voice is louder than I expected.

"Do what?" Carmilla is taken aback, eyes darting around.

"Say something like that and then just stop."

"Cupcake, we're here. Where you want to be. Let's do this and then talk. I don't particularly want to have a scene in front of everyone." I flush and glance around. She's right. It's too public. I press my lips together as she glares down at me.

"Okay," I mutter sulkily. Taking my hand, we follow the signs to another clipboard-carrying sister of the Summer Society. I first mistook her for Danny, but realized she wasn't over six feet tall and had a nose piercing. Her blood red war paint looked like it was from Braveheart and I could have sworn Carmilla blushed slightly at that.

"Welcome to the Adonis Festival and Hunt! I'm Jessie, and I'm going to need both of you to fill out this liability release form."

"Liability release form? You think we'll get hurt here?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Well, we have an entire process to help reduce injuries, but... well, accidents can happen when you're running through a forest."

Carmilla seemed to speed-read through the form. "Not liable for any injuries up to and including death by bow-hunting accidents..." She shrugged at that. "Fairly certain I won't get hit with an arrow."

"Arrows?" My voice cracked.

"Once you sign here, you two will go to the archery range and the best dozen archers get to participate in the hunt. This way we keep the chance of injury to a minimum."

"Oh okay, yeah, I probably won't be that good. I bet Danny will make it though."

"Lawrence? Yeah, she's a bit of a bad-ass there."

"So, this is a legitimate bow-and-arrow hunt?"

"Oh, right. So the Summer Society pays honor to Artemis, the Greek Goddess of the hunt. She was also the Goddess for wilderness, childbirth, protecting young girls... essentially she was the bad ass Feminist Goddess in Mythology. So the story is that Adonis bragged that he was a better hunter than she was, so she sicced wild boar on him in order to make him prove it. I mean, if he's such a bad-ass hunter and can kill gentle animals who aren't doing anything to bother him, maybe he should try hunting something that is actively going after him and can kill him?"

"Uh-huh." I reply, not certain how this pertains to bow-hunting here. "Do we get to do the face paint too?"

"Have to qualify to be on the hunting team first."

Carmilla frowned at that. "You have a holiday where you get to hunt down a kill a man? Much better than Krampus at Christmas."

Jessie paled at that.

"Um, no. We don't do a human sacrifice. We're hunting a feral hog as they are considered an invasive species that is destroying the countryside. But otherwise this is a field day and we party afterwards."

"And then you slaughter and cook it?" Carmilla asked.

"Yeah, and we even get some bands to come and play, too." Carmilla and I sign off on the release forms and make our way over to the range, and I glanced over at Carmilla's arms and fingers. She probably is really good with a bow, isn't she? As we line up to qualify for the hunt, I hear Danny's voice loud and clear.

"You! Get away from her!" Before I can focus my eyes, I feel a whoosh of air go by as Carmilla flies backwards twenty feet and slams against a tree, making a sickening crunching sound. The person handing out arrows bolts out and puts their hands out in front of Danny. Judging from the fauxhawk that reminded me of LaFontaine, I guessed that this person was agender or genderqueer. They also wore eye black as war paint and it gave a kind of fierce look as they stood up against Danny, considering we were the same height but they were definitely more muscular.

"Danny! Calm down, she's not harming anyone!" I look over at Carmilla, crumpled and bleeding into the grass. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...

"I thought I smelled a corpse!" Danny spat, eyes narrowed at her. Danny's war paint was the most vicious-looking design of the group, black ichor dripping down her face like Lexa. I was frozen in place, scared that the woman I loved was dead.

How was Danny able to throw her that far?

In the distance, I hear Carmilla get up slowly to her hands and knees and pops her back unnaturally as she groans in pain.

"Ugh, I thought I smelled wet dog." Carmilla's eyes shone white-silver as she sneered, and I noticed her canine teeth looked a bit pointier than normal. Carmilla! You're alive?!

"I'm going to rip out your throat, clot sucker." Danny spat, ripping her shirt off and exposing a grey sports bra.

"Ha! Moonrise isn't for another 8 hours, dumb ass."

Danny's smile turned into a feral snarl. "You think just because the full moon isn't in our sky right now, I can't sense it over Russia?" Her shoulders seemed to pop out of their joints as her body contorted as Carmilla growled at her.

"Laura, get to the Jeep! Get to Kirsch and tell him code 3." Jessie grabbed my hand and started to pull me away.

"Carmilla? What's going on?" I asked as I tried to make sense of what I saw before me.

"Time to get out of here, Laura! Jia! Can you calm Lawrence down?"

The agender Summer Society sister shook their head at that. "Her beast is bigger than mine, and I still need moonrise! Danny! Look at me!"

Danny wasn't looking at Jia though. She was staring directly at me. "Laura, I had no idea you were fucking an undead beast from the pits of hell!"

"Danny!"

"Back off, Jia!"

Carmilla stood, popping her neck with an inhuman twitch of her neck. "Think you can take me, you basic, fucking bitch?" She took a few steps backwards into the woods away from the rest of us as Danny's skin turned into fur and there was a red werewolf on all fours where my friend had once stood.

Jia and Jessie each had an arm on me and dragged me away from the confrontation. "Laura, your girlfriend just pissed off a werewolf. Time to call for help."

Carmilla's voice went deep and the growl was nowhere near human. "More like call an ambulance." My eyes and brain didn't want to work as her body morphed into a black smoke and re-solidifed in the shape of a black panther and ran off on all fours.

"What the fuck just happened?" Jia asked me and I shrugged, completely lost at what was going on as LaFontaine ran by with a small cooler in their hands and the word MEDIC emblazoned on the back of their shirt.

"Damn it, boss, the serum doesn't work once you shift forms!"

I turned back and saw a distressed and panicked Perry being comforted by Levi. "What's a code three, Laura?"

I shrugged my shoulders as Kirsch ran up and handed Jia a small pistol as he chambered a dart into his rifle.

"Are you crazy? I'm not about to kill-"

"-tranq."

"Oh. She's going to hate me for this."

"She'll live though."

The pair of them ran into the forest, side by side, and it was only a matter of minutes before I heard them yell in surprise as Carmilla in panther form broght Danny back towards them to shoot with the darts. My heart was in my throat as I heard Kirsch yell out "Clear!"

I ran after them, hoping against all hope that everyone was alive and well and that nobody was injured. I made it through the dense branches as I saw the ginger shock of LaFontaine's hair kneeling beside a trembling Carmilla.

"How... did I not fucking... smell that coming?" Carmilla's voice was shaky and weak in a way I've never heard before.

"Sorry, Ms. Karnstein, but she didn't know about you, either. It was a complete surprise. Drink."

"Ugh, it's cold! I'd rather have you..."

"That's not going to happen, and you know it, Boss."

"Right, you're..." Carmilla gasped, convulsing. "...the doc."

"Besides, you know the blood stays fresh longer when it's cold."

"It tastes horrible though!"

"Ms. Karnstein, your eyes are still pure silver, and you can't take the serum now, so you need to drink. You told me you don't Laura to know th-"

I called out to her. "Carmilla?"

LaFontaine cursed quietly as they turned to face me. "Hey, hold on for a moment, okay?"

"Is Danny okay? Are you okay?" I asked.

LaFontaine nodded. "Yes. Both are okay."

Carmilla rolled so her back was to me. "Please... leave."

I didn't understand what she meant. "What's going on? What happened back there?"

"God, I must have imagined this moment a hundred times... never like this."

"What are you talking about?" I ask as I approach them. LaF turns their head away, feeling extremely awkward in this moment. Carmilla has something clutched in her hands with a straw going to her mouth. She was worried I'd see her sipping on a Capri Sun?

"Pl...please don't look at me." Carmilla said, shuddering as she sucked and retched at the straw in her mouth.

It wasn't a straw in a Capri Sun. It was a bag of blood.

Carmilla was sucking down a pint of blood.

"Oh my god. What...?" Why was she doing this? Why is she drinking blood? She can't be...

Carmilla looked into my eyes and I saw the silver flecks slowly darken back to her normal color, but the expression on her face was shame and revulsion. She was wracked with shaking as she looked guilty, as if I stumbled onto a drug addict who had been caught holding a lit lighter under the spoon. "I'm a vampire."