Reversis

A whipping sound pierced the air, cracking roughly as it met its mark in the dark silence of the woods in the Parc National du Mercantour outside of Col de Tende in France. There was hardly any light but the girl knew her mark was young and not nearly as ready for her as she had been for it. Her whip gripped his neck tightly as it warmed in her hands singeing him as he cried out in pain. She took a step closer, pulling the whip to tighten it, cutting off his air supply, if he had needed it. He didn’t, and that was never her goal in the first place. Her goal was destruction.

“Not so fast, sœur. We must ask him some questions.” A slightly shorter girl stepped from around a tree with a shining obsidian sword in her hands.

“He will not answer them. You know they are a silent, stupidly loyal, breed of monster.” The taller, yet younger, girl responded, tugging tighter on the whip and taking one more step closer so they were within four feet of each other. She could see the void, blackness of his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Will you, vampire?”

“You know this is not how we operate, Noelle. Loosen your whip, only slightly.”

The younger girl did as she was asked, her sister going into full Romanian to ask the vampire questions about his nest. They knew there were more of them that had yet to be disposed of due to the hunters’ lack of persistence. Vampires were the lowest on their chain, and Noelle’s absolute least favorite to hunt. They were not especially smart, but they were rather brutal. She had faced far worst but there was something so infinitely disgusting about vampires that she could never quite get past.

“You captured my mark.” A sultry British voice rang out from the trees above and in a flash a beautiful brunet boy landed right beside Noelle. “Hello, love.” He whispered to her, ghosting his hand down her back to which she awkwardly shrugged away from.

“Your mark? You had weeks to dispose of them, Andrew. You made absolutely no improvement. You know what this means for your family. You are henceforth under strict probation. Guards will be arriving at your residence in London with a few days.” Noelle grinned as her sister spewed the logistics at the boy. Pretty as he was, he was shallow as the creek they had trampled through to get to this rogue vampire. And his family had been piss-poor hunters the past few months.

“Now, now … isn’t that a bit hasty? This nest is trickier than you know.”

“My impulsive younger sister caught one within a day of hunting it. Your excuses mean nothing to the Les Élus. If your mother cares to step in on your behalf, then she may visit ours and ask for mercy.” Roux continued, looking back to the vampire ensnared in Noelle’s whip to continue her line of questioning.

“You would really let my family suffer, Noelle? After all we’ve been through?”

“What do you mean, Andrew? When you nearly got me killed? Or when you used me to gain favor from my parents?”

“We have a history.”

“You forget your responsibilities and all your family will be is las histoire.”

It seemed Andrew would not go down without a fight though the moment he raised his sword, Noelle landed a direct spin kick to the side of his face, expertly ducking and twirling under her whip so as to not lose her grip on it or her undead prisoner. Andrew fell into a nearby tree with the impact of such a rough kick, blood dripping from his lip which sent the vampire into a frenzy. It had nearly broken free when Noelle swiftly pulled her handheld golden crossbow out and shot him directly in the heart with an obsidian tipped arrow. Obsidian didn’t work on vampires like they did on demons so once it landed on her target, momentarily surprising him, she yanked roughly on her whip the heat boiling to completely decapitate him while simultaneously cauterizing the wound. His head rolled to her sister’s feet, eyes wide open as the body stiffened into a porcelain statue before crushing in on itself and vanishing in the breeze.

“I suggest you get yourself home to explain to your parents why Les Élus guards will be overtaking your manor, Andrew.” Roux stated. He didn’t waste one moment to leave the woods, no doubt his hunting partner close by. Before Noelle could open her mouth, her sister raised her hand. “I do not wish to hear your excuses, Noelle. You will have some explaining to do to mother when we get home.”

“He would have taken your head off had I not taken his.”

“We shall never know. And now we also will never know where his nest is, thanks to your impulsive behavior, once again. Vous êtes complètement irresponsible!”

“Je suis désolé that I saved your life!”

“You need to think, Noelle, before you jump into such destructive actions! Mother will not be pleased.”

“Mother has not been out in the hunt for a long while. She simply does not understand.”

“And she simply does not care.”



Their nonstop traveling landed them on the doorstep of their home late morning following their hunt. Neither had stopped to bathe off the dirt or freshen up before arriving, knowing fully well how much their parents desired an update even though they would more than likely be scolded for their appearances, lest they have visitors. Much to their relief, the cobblestone driveway was void of any cars other than those they were familiar with. Roux’s joining them with the top down to enjoy the warm French air on the drive.

The Chevalier home was regal and rustic at the same time. The neutral stone was understated but there was an absolute magic about the Tuscan-style home with blossoming flower boxes and a cool, deep blue roof that shimmered in the sunlight. The numerous arches gave it a timeless look, like something that could have been built in the middle ages though they knew better. It was a home that was barely twenty years old – an upgrade right before her older sister had been born. And her mother kept it up to date with the trends. And, though it was beautiful, Noelle felt as though there was a coldness about it. Perhaps it was all the harsh rulings her parents had to deal out to various hunter families that kept the chill in the air or the fact that nothing could ever be out of place, even when they were young girls.

The beautiful glass French doors opened to a wide foyer with views of the second floor balcony surrounding a chandelier Noelle was afraid to know the price of. The dark tiles mixed with the light walls and décor made it look modern and rich. The fresh flowers were almost welcoming, had she not been worried about her mother’s reaction to their news. Through the glass doors, open and letting light in all through the house, sat the living room with multiple doors leading outside and all of which were open to let in the light breeze. That was Noelle’s favorite part of the house – how open everything seemed.

A sound to their right told her that their mother was exactly where they thought she would be – in the kitchen. No doubt having a mimosa and watching their father cook up a magnificent lunch for their arrival. Their mother was a stunning, small yet powerful Italian-born woman whose presence made up for her slight stature. She was where the girls got their luscious brown, wavy locks and deep brown eyes. Their father, French and all golden and light, gave them their thinner lips and small noses. Knowing full well the history of their kind, it was all too easy to picture their mother in Ancient Rome, fighting off monsters as directed by Juno. She looked directly out of a history book in her face, though her clothes were all high brand labels looking sophisticated and completely fresh.

Their father was traditional and stoic, though incredibly handsome. He could have been a knight in the Gardes Françaises in the 16th Century with his broad shoulders and strong jawline. Noelle took after him in height while her sister took on the shorter stature of their mother. As was tradition with the families in the hunting business, their mother was in charge while their father was merely her companion who helped in her decisions. She always had final say. And, truth be told, they feared her infinitely more than they feared him. After all, they had seen her use a sword once when they were little and it was permanently fused into their brains.

“Do not tell me – you failed to gather information.” Her accent was unlike theirs and their father’s. She was Italian born and bred while they were all French. They could fluently speak both, but French was their usual tongue unless they were studying under their mother and then she often required Latin just to challenge them. Though English was the language spreading more rapidly, and they especially had to use it when visitors were expected.

Both girls paused in the archway, side by side. Their father had stopped his chopping of a green pepper, looking them over with a raised eyebrow. Their mother was sitting at the island, reading the paper with a drink in hand, her glasses slightly low on her nose and her long hair cascading down her back in waves that matched Noelle’s almost perfectly. The younger girl looked to her older sister, who was not offering any assistance. She had acted before thinking way too many times in the field and she figured this was her sister teaching her a lesson. She rolled her eyes and stepped forward.

“Andrew showed up and made a scene. Blood was spilled and the one we had captured went mad with thirst. He was seconds from getting away and harming Roux so, oui, you are correct. We failed to gather the information you asked for.”

“Oh dear. That is not good, now is it?” Their mother glanced up from the paper, folding it gracefully and clasping her hands on top of it. “We will have to discuss your penance for this, ma douce.”

“Understood, mother.”

“For now, clean yourselves up. We have visitors coming.”