Vivienne Von Vexx's Arc

Chapter 10 of 21

The hunter sat up against the old stone slab. His curls hung damp over his brow. He did not reach for the cord of fangs at his belt. He did not reach for anything. He only held the sketch between his open hands and stared at the girl in it. Vivienne stood very still. She had carried his face for decades without knowing why. Tonight she would ask. "Why you," she said. Her voice was small in the empty chapel. "I drew this before you were born. I need to know why fate put your face in my pocket." The hunter looked up. His eyes were tired and surprised and clear. "My grandmother," he said slowly. "She spoke of a black-haired girl who spared her in the woods. She made me promise. If I ever met you, I was not to raise my stake." He swallowed. "I did not believe her. Until now." Vivienne's hand pressed flat against her chest. The answer was not love. The answer was a debt, paid forward through one mortal life into another. She knelt down across from him. The sketch lay between them on the dusty floor. He did not flinch. He did not run. He was here because someone, long ago, had chosen to stay her hand — and she had chosen back. The mystery was closed. What he would become to her now was a question that had only just opened.