***
Ashlyn cleaned her blade and slipped it into her belt. She scowled as she considered what had just befallen in the prep chamber as they climbed their way up the steep, winding staircase toward the arena.
“I do not like surprises,” she muttered.
“Especially when they are traps.”
***
Ashlyn sat in the cab of the old pickup as it bounced onto the drawbridge that crossed the moat surrounding New Alamo. The fourteen-year-old wore a simple, plain t-shirt, jeans, and boots, and, of course, her mother’s silver cross necklace. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She bent forward a bit, trying to ignore the cramping in her gut. The Mother said it was normal, that she was becoming a woman. Well, Ashlyn wasn’t sure she wanted to be a woman if it meant this!
Ashlyn looked over at the man driving the truck. Sir Pedro was an old cyberknight, long since retired, cantankerous and mean. All of the kids at the orphanage seemed afraid of him. But then, they were afraid of Ashlyn, too, after she had killed Manuel two years ago when he had come to her bed and tried to touch her. That was when her gifts had shown, and the Mother came and took her to the Magdalene House to train with the sisters there. The left side of Pedro’s face had been clawed by something, leaving it rather horribly scarred and his eye milky white. The wrinkles didn’t do much to make him any better looking. His white hair hung down over that half of his face. He wore his cyberknight armor, though his duties in New Alamo mostly consisted of sleeping on watch, and God forbid the poor person who interrupted the old knight’s nap!
“Where we go?” Ashlyn asked. She was trying to get better at her American by speaking it more as the Mother instructed.
“To church,” Pedro said.
“We have church in New Alamo,” Ashlyn said.
“Don’t ask questions. Just do as you’re told.”
“Sí, Señor,” Ashlyn answered obediently.
They hit the road out of town and bounced along. The suspension in this truck left a lot to be desired, and wasn’t helping Ashlyn’s cramps. She curled up on the bench seat, but refused to whimper. There was a loud clanging in the back, and she glanced at the bed of the truck, wondering at the long steel box wrapped in chains.
“What box for? What in it?” Ash asked curiously.
“Somethin’,” Pedro said.
Ashlyn sighed and leaned her head against the window, looking up as the sun climbed high in the sky. As long as the sun was out, it would be safe, though there were other dangers out here on the prairie than the vampires that roamed at night.
“When we coming back?” Ashlyn asked.
“Tomorrow Sunday. My novitiate end, and I be taken as full sister.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Pedro grunted.
Ashlyn sighed and turned her gaze back to the window. Her cramps subsided a bit, and she felt herself drifting off.
Ashlyn awoke when the truck rumbled to a halt. The sun was heading for the horizon. They had driven for hours!
“Señor Pedro! Is late!” The teen pointed to the sun.
“We not get back in time for safety!”
Pedro grunted as he levered his way out of the truck. He stretched, arching his back and cracking weary old bones and muscles.
“We’ll be fine.”
Ashlyn looked around them. It appeared to be the ruins of a small town built in the bend of a river. On a hill overlooking the ruined buildings, and standing on a bluff overlooking the river, stood an old church. The church looked to have been maintained somewhat. It, at least, had a roof and doors, unlike most of the homes in the village. It even had a rusty iron fence around the church grounds.
“What is place?” Ashlyn asked.
Pedro shrugged.
“Was a village called San MIguel, back when I was a boy,” Pedro said.
“Back before the vampires started coming this far north. The devils had a good snack of ‘em.”
Ashlyn looked at Pedro.
“Was it...your village?” she whispered.
“Sí,” was all Sir Pedro said. He moved around to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate, dragging the heavy steel box off.
“I sorry,” Ashlyn murmured.
Pedro just grunted.
“Go inside. Say your prayers.”
Ashlyn nodded and moved obediently toward the church. The gate squealed in protest as she tugged on it, and the path was overgrown. Here and there she could see fallen tombstones peeking through the grass.
The heavy wooden doors were a bit warped, but, grunting, she just managed to pop it open enough for a slender teenage girl to slip through. She didn’t bother closing it, unsure she could, anyway. Inside was dark, and a bit dusty, but someone was clearly keeping the church nice. Wooden chairs sat in the nave. The sanctuary was raised platform, the altar heavy wood and covered with a cloth. Two unlit candles were set in silver candlesticks flanking a silver cross.
Ashlyn crossed herself and knelt down in front of the altar. She was beginning to maybe understand Pedro’s purpose in bringing her here. The cyberknights did something similar, spending a night alone in meditation and contemplation before they were accepted into the order. Ashlyn figured this was something similar, though she hadn’t been told of it. She didn’t know why she couldn’t do it in the chapel in New Alamo, but maybe this place was special.
Ashlyn began her prayers, murmuring quietly. Again, she lost track of time, lost in meditation. Somewhere distant...was that the rattle of a chain? Ashlyn brushed it aside, refocusing. Her knees and back were beginning to hurt, and she shifted.
Then came the unmistakable groan of the heavy wooden doors as they slammed shut. Ashlyn gasped, startled, turning to look up the nave. Darkness had fallen, and very little moonlight made it through the windows. Only the light from the candles she had lit illuminated her and the area around the altar.
“Señor Pedro?” Ashlyn called into the darkness. It made sense. This would be the safest place to hunker down for the night, if it was still consecrated ground.
There was no reply to her call. Did she hear shuffling?
And then something at the back of Ashlyn’s neck tingled. She ran her gaze around the room, her skin prickling. She had never felt this before, but she felt her senses heighten. Something flickered in the corner of her eye.
Ashlyn threw herself backward, bringing her feet up, planting them right in her attacker’s stomach, using his momentum to throw him over her. She rolled to her feet, a lock of her black hair falling in her face, and she gave a puff to blow it out of the way. Her attacker slammed into the chairs, smashing several, scrambling up onto all fours.
Ashlyn saw the telltale aura of magic around the creature. Her lips curled back.
“Vampire…” She hadn’t seen one since that day as a child when she watched her parents be murdered, but she never forgot them, and she had studied all she could about them.
The vampire hissed, baring sharp fangs, eyes glowing red, feral. A whiff of burning flesh hit Ashlyn’s nostrils. Ashlyn frowned. The creature must be desperate to feed to come hunting on consecrated ground.
The vampire gave a hungry howl and charged. Ashlyn did the sensible thing. She turned and ran. Slapping down a hand on the altar, she jumped and slid across the surface, scattering the candlesticks and crucifix.
Wait. Silver!
Ashlyn scrambled, managing to grab up one of the candlesticks and the cross just as the vampire leapt onto the altar. Ashlyn could feel its flesh scalding from contact with the consecrated piece of furniture. The vampire slashed at her with his claws, catching her, gouging her across the face. She felt the familiar, coppery taste of blood. She spun around, smashing the vampire across the face with the silver candlestick.
The vampire howled at the scent of her blood, driven more into a frenzy Ashlyn turned and ran. She needed some distance! Touching her mother’s necklace, she cast a spell, increasing her knowledge of fighting, her coordination.
The vampire scrambled after her, patches of skin actually on fire from being inside the most consecrated area of the church, though once it reached the nave, it settled back into a slow smoke. Ashlyn tossed her hand behind her, getting off another spell. Bolts of celestial silver slammed into the vampire, sending it into a dancing jig as it was peppered by magic.
But still the demon kept coming! It avoided her next spell, leaping up onto the wall and then off, sailing at her. Claws raked her back, shredding her t-shirt and drawing more blood, sending her hard to the floor. She flailed desperately with the silver cross, burning the holy symbol into the vampire’s face as she hit it.
The vampire screamed and knocked the cross away, breaking her arm. She gave her own scream of pain as she kicked and scrambled, managing to get onto her back beneath the inhuman beast. Eyes blood red, saliva dripping from its fangs, the vampire bit down.
Ashlyn managed to jerk to the side at the last minute. The fangs bit into her shoulder, tearing muscle, snapping her collarbone. She screamed again, her hand flailing for something, anything. It closed around a broken chair leg and she slammed it into the vampire’s side, into its heart.
It wasn’t a clean strike, though, only staggering the vampire. Ashlyn started to pray, chanting. Her mother’s necklace started to glow, and then light blasted out, surrounding her. The vampire shrieked in agony, staggering back, skin blackening, holding up its hands. It hit the window, cracking it.
Ashlyn rose up, dripping blood, hair free and falling in her face, eyes murderous. White, hot light surrounded her body with blazing intensity. The scent of burning flesh grew more potent as she stalked toward her prey, one arm hanging limp, the other clutching a small silver letter opener, her mother’s.
“Unholy spawn of Satan! Tonight you go to your just reward!” The small knife glowing with celestial silver power, the broken teenage girl charged at the vampire.
The vampire snarled and, despite its pain, met her. They collided and smashed through the window, still grappling as they fell into the river below.
Pedro was waiting for her when she finally pulled herself out of the river and stalked back to the truck, dripping, broken, bleeding, her tattered and torn wet t-shirt clinging to her budding young breasts, black hair bedraggled, hanging in her bloody face. The long steel box lay on the ground at Pedro’s feet, chains in a neat pile, as the old cyberknight smoked a hand rolled cigarillo.
“Well, you’re alive,” Pedro commented.
Ashlyn glared at the old cyberknight. Then came the stream of Spanish profanity.
“Now, what would Mother think of such language?” Pedro scolded. He tossed the cigarillo away and walked over to her, putting his hands on her and murmuring a prayer. Healing magic flowed into her, closing her wounds, knitting bone. Ashlyn couldn’t hold in the whimpering sigh as she sagged against the gnarled old knight’s chest.
“Change of clothes in the truck,” Pedro murmured.
“Ya did good.”
Ashlyn sobbed, and Pedro awkwardly patted the young teen’s back before shoving her away.
“Man up, girl,” he said.
“Or...woman up. Yer a Magdalena now!”
Ashlyn blinked, staring at Sir Pedro.
“Que?”
Pedro rolled his eyes. He reached down and grabbed up the chains, throwing them over his shoulder, and then wrestled with the steel box.
“Ceremony’s just a formality. You don’t get the ceremony if the test kills you.” He tossed the box and chains into the back of the truck and slammed the gate closed.
“You passed. Now get dressed. Got a long way back to New Alamo if you want to make it in time for your party.”
“But it’s dark. Not safe to travel!” Ashlyn protested.
Pedro gave a mocking laugh.
“What? A cyberknight and a Magdalena are gonna be scared of a couple vampires? Please!” He opened the truck and pulled out a duffel bag, tossing it to her.
Ashlyn opened the bag to find a change of clothes and suit of light ley line walker armor with the symbol of the Magdalenas embossed on it. She looked up at the old cyberknight, tears in her eyes, as she clutched the bag to her chest.
“I still hate you,” Ashlyn said with a huff, stalking off toward the church again to change.
Pedro just chuckled and pulled out another cigarillo.