SilverScale Books

I hummed to myself as I pruned my prize bloodroses, enjoying the warmth of the summer sunlight. Since I was dressed all in black, from the wide-brimmed hat on my head to my gloves and gardening boots, my skin felt nearly as warm as a human’s—or at least, as close as a vampire like me could get.

Placing another rose into the woven basket that hung from my arm, I surveyed my garden. It spilled across terraced stone and winding paths in a riot of late-summer colors and glimmering magic. Golden sunlight poured over the high stone walls that surrounded my home, Nocturne Castle, warming the air until it shimmered with the scent of the sun-soaked earth, the ripeness of the blackberries from the brambles in the corners, and the faint spice of late-blooming herbs.

Towering sunflowers stood like sentinels along the southern beds, their faces turned faithfully toward the light. Their petals were the deep buttery gold of late August honey, and their centers were dark and velvety, dotted with tiny glowing specks of wild magic.

Deeper in the shaded northern beds, where the castle’s old stones cast long afternoon shadows, the bloodroses bloomed in heavy, velvety clusters that perfumed the air with a rich, wine-like aroma. Their petals were so dark they seemed almost black at the edges, yet when the light hit them just right, they glowed with a subtle, inner crimson fire.

Interspersed among them were one of my favorite flowers: violets, their delicate faces turned upward in shades of deep indigo and silver-veined lavender. At dusk, the violets would begin to shimmer faintly, their scent turning cool and calming, like rain on a warm autumn’s day.

Winding between the roses and violets grew moonlace, starlillies and ember dahlias. The lillies would open their star-shaped blooms only as the light faded, while the dahlias held a soft glow like banked coals, keeping the paths lit with gentle light long after sunset.

Everywhere I looked, the garden hummed with life. Silver-leafed whispervines twined along the old Greek and Roman statues of gods and goddesses that rose above the manicured greenery. Marble fountains were interspersed along the stone paths at regular intervals, adding the comforting sound of flowing water to the peaceful ambiance.

Starpetal asters twinkled like scattered constellations among the taller blooms, their petals shifting from pale pink to a bright silvery blue. The air itself felt alive, courtesy of the ley lines beneath the soil. Busy bees with faintly luminous stripes drifted lazily between the sunflowers and bloodroses, while tiny moth-like sprites with wings like stained glass sometimes appeared at twilight to sip from the glowing centers of the ember dahlias.

This garden had been my sanctuary for decades. I loved how the jasmine would always perfume the air around the gazebo where I liked to have tea and read some of the thick tomes from the castle’s endless archives. And the violets would often release an extra calming fragrance when my thoughts grew too heavy.

I loved taking care of it, and in return, it took care of me. Especially when I could feel the golden light of late summer giving way to the first crisp edges of early fall, my garden was my favorite place to be.

Even if I was considered a little strange because of it.

My slender fingers rose to my cheek, reassuring me that the thick layer of sunblock I wore didn’t yet need reapplying. Humans and their inventions had really come far in the last few decades. The stories my grandmother regaled me with would have led me to believe they were still relying on horses for transportation and trying not to starve to death every winter.

A quick foray into Seattle a few years ago had quickly remedied my misconceptions. Now that I thought about it, it had been several centuries since my grandmother last ventured outside of Willowmere.

I glanced at my sundial, noting that it was now nearly four o’clock. If I wanted to drop off this bouquet in town before the florist’s shop closed, I really should be going. My basket held plenty of roses, so I added in a couple more sunflowers, plus a few starlillies and dahlias for good measure.

The violets and jasmine I’d rather keep all to myself.

Retrieving my black lace parasol from its stand in the gazebo, I hid under its shade as I stepped through the wrought-iron gates of the castle and strolled through the enchanted forest that surrounded my home.

Some of the leaves were already starting to turn red and gold, and I spotted squirrels and pixies alike scurrying through the undergrowth, cheeks and hands stuffed with nuts and berries. The path widened as I reached the edge of the forest, which gave way to the rolling fields and orchards that belonged to Thistle, a forest nymph whose apple orchards and pumpkin patches would become quite popular in a month or so.

As much as I loved the fresh and earthy scents of Thistle’s farm, I secretly preferred the aroma of freshly-baked bread and pastries that lingered in Willowmere—not to mention the mouth-watering scents coming from the restaurants and coffee shop. Though most of that food held little nutritional value for me, that never stopped me from indulging every now and then.

Besides forest nymphs, Willowmere was filled with all different kinds of magical folks. In fact, it was the only such community of its kind in the state of Washington, and had been founded by my colony about a millenia ago. My predecessors had come to an agreement with a local coven for a barrier that prevented humans from entering, so that every vampire, werewolf, witch, shifter, fae, and demon could live here in peace.

And over the years, it had indeed blossomed into a thriving and peaceful community.

I strolled through the small neighborhood filled with quaint cottages dripping with ivy and accented with gold trim in order to reach the main street. With no small effort, I passed by The Hearthstone Diner, whose bloodpepper wine I adored, and Tails & Treats, which I’d recently discovered had the best baguettes and pies in town.

Instead of stopping to browse, I continued down the street. The flower shop, Pots & Petals, stood on the sunny corner of main street. Bright yellow and white striped awnings stretched across the front, shading the large display windows that were always filled with vibrant bouquets. Today’s display featured towering sunflowers that nodded cheerfully in their vases, their golden faces turning toward anyone who paused to admire them.

As I approached, I could see the shop’s elven owner bustling about, assisting several groups of customers. Leandra Sunbinder ran her shop with endless energy, and kept her long blonde hair tied back with a bright green ribbon that often slipped loose as she worked. She moved between the wooden tables and shelves with quick, light steps, humming under her breath while she trimmed stems and filled buckets with fresh water.

Sunflowers were her specialty, since her elven family had been growing them for centuries. She grew every kind she could—some with petals that shimmered like warm honey when the light hit them, and others that hummed cheerful melodies. Somehow, Lea always knew exactly which sunflower to select for each person, wrapping it in a full bouquet with a bit of twine and a smile that had them smiling back. The whole shop smelled like summer and growing things all year round, which was part of why I loved coming here.

The little bell above the door chimed merrily when I stepped inside. It took the other customers a few moments to notice me, but when they did, their loud conversations immediately turned into hushed whispers. I could feel their eyes on me, but I chose to ignore their fearful gazes.

“Good afternoon, Agatha! What have you brought for me today?” Lea greeted me as warmly as she did everyone else, without a hint of hesitation in her bright green eyes.

I smiled, allowing my fangs to glint in the light. “A nice selection of bloodroses, with a few sunflowers, starlillies, and dahlias.”

“Your timing is impeccable—I just got a request for a housewarming bouquet that includes starlillies,” she gushed, glancing at a stylish gargoyle who stood at the counter.

Her dark hair faded from an undercut to a sharp bob, and tattoos that reminded me of a night sky swirled across her stone-gray skin. Piercings marched up her pointed ears, and jewelry glinted at her throat and wrists. She looked strangely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her.

The gargoyle’s golden eyes met mine unflinchingly. “I’m Selina. I think I’ve seen you a few times at the bakery.”

Memories clicked into place of seeing her kneading dough, wearing the bakery’s distinctive pink apron. “Ah yes, you are one of the bakers at Tails & Treats—I thought you looked familiar. It is lovely to make your acquaintance, Selina. My name is Agatha.”

Selina held out her hand, and I shook it. “Your reputation precedes you.” Before I could scowl, she added, “Lea says the flowers you cultivate are some of the best—besides her own, of course.” She winked at me.

Now that sort of reputation I could get used to.

Lea laughed good-naturedly. “I would certainly have some fierce competition if Agatha decided to open her own flower shop!”

My smile softened. “No need to fear, I had my fill of working in a florist shop while I lived in Romania with my great aunt, Beatrice. I am perfectly content with gardening as a hobby.”

Selina perked up. “You’ve spent time in Europe? Are there any places you’d recommend?”

“Romania, for one. The history and architecture alone make the trip worthwhile, though I believe there are several hidden communities of gargoyles there that might interest you. England and France have some lovely buildings, and the food in Germany and Switzerland is exquisite.” When Selina’s expression turned uncertain, I sighed and clarified, “Their wine, sausages and chocolates are exceptional.”

Naturally, she had wondered if I had meant that the humans there were tasty. With a huff, I added, "Sophisticated vampires like myself receive our sustenance from the excess donations at hospitals.”

When Selina visibly relaxed, I decided not to mention that my colony liked to supplement our supply with regular hunts in the enchanted forest.

Lea cleared her throat, looking only slightly queasy. “Thanks again for bringing fresh flowers today, Agatha. By the way, who is the housewarming bouquet for, if you don’t mind my asking, Selina?”

The gargoyle shook her head. “Not at all. They’re for my brother, Mason. He’s arriving tonight for a little sabbatical from work.”

“How lovely! You two must be close. Will he be staying long?” Lea carefully took the basket I offered her.

“We’re closer now that we’re not living under the same roof,” she replied with a wry chuckle. “And I’m actually not entirely sure, but I think he’ll be here for at least a month, maybe two.”

“Well, it’s certainly a great time to visit! The weather is still so nice, and there’s lots of plants in bloom. If he stays long enough, you could take him to Thistle’s place for some apple picking,” Lea chattered on.

“What does he do for work?” I asked.

“He’s actually a well-known sculptor,” Selina said proudly. “His latest exhibition in LA just finished last week.”

A gargoyle who worked with stone—how fitting.

“Wow, really? Does he ever make sculptures of flowers?” Lea asked excitedly.

Selina ran a hand through her hair. “Not of bouquets by themselves.” When Lea’s expression fell, she hurried to add, “But I definitely remember seeing flowering vines in some of his works.”

That seemed to cheer Lea right up. I would have thought she got plenty of exposure to flowers at work, but it seemed like they were the one thing she just couldn’t get enough of. Well, not that I was one to talk. Coaxing plants into bloom and enjoying their colors and scents as they changed from season to season was a sort of everlasting joy, the kind that persisted through the centuries.

It was nice having friends who felt the same way I did about gardening.

“I’ll have to look up some of his sculptures after work.” Lea counted out my payment and handed it to me, though I noticed she was careful not to touch my cold skin.

I tried not to feel offended. It would be stranger if an elf who worked exclusively with the green magic of the earth didn’t mind coming into contact with a creature whose magic was closer to decay than life.

“His work really is something special—but don’t tell him I said that, or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Selina rolled her eyes, and propped a hand on her hip.

I grinned. I was no stranger to overbearing siblings. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“And me!” Lea chimed in. “Probably…”

Selina and I both raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance. Selina would be lucky if her brother hadn’t heard about the entirety of this conversation by the end of his first couple days in town.

“Give me just a few minutes, Selina, and I’ll have your housewarming bouquet ready for you!”

“Thanks, hun.”

“I think it is lovely how you are getting him a bouquet. Ladies are certainly not the only ones who enjoy receiving flowers,” I commented, picking up my basket.

“Exactly. I have yet to meet someone who doesn’t like getting fresh flowers—barring those with allergies, of course.” Selina gave me a wink.

“I am sure he will appreciate it.” I gave them both a smile before opening my parasol once more. “Until next time, ladies.”

“Bye, Agatha. Come back soon!” Lea called out as I exited the shop.

I took my time window shopping as I strolled through town, even though I knew I really should get back. I wanted to take a quick nap before tonight’s meeting.

I sighed. I was not looking forward to that, and the inevitable barbs that were always aimed my way. Reluctantly, I turned my feet towards home, soaking up as much warmth as possible along the way.

Even after my nap, I still felt sluggish. Or perhaps that was simply a reflection of how little I was looking forward to this meeting. Before I left my gothic, purple-themed room, I smoothed down my hair one last time. The day someone invented a mirror that showed vampires was the day I paid them their weight in gold. But alas, I would just have to go off of what I could see and feel myself.

I stiffened my spine as I strode through the stone hallways, where polished suits of medieval armor guarded the oil paintings and rich tapestries that lined the walls. The soft murmur of voices increased in volume as I approached the meeting hall, and I took a steeling breath before I entered.

Most of the colony had already assembled, with dozens of my aunts, uncles, and cousins already seated at the long, mahogany table that dominated the center of the room. Moonlight streamed in through the massive stained glass windows, illuminating the bowls of fruit and the bottles of bloodwine that decorated the table.

I took a seat next to my siblings, as was expected, and summarily ignored their eye rolls at my presence. I did not have to wait long, as Lucien Nocturne, our colony’s patriarch and my father, soon called the meeting to order.

I kept my expression carefully neutral, and nodded along in all the right places as plans were made for the next full moon hunt, and tasks assigned for the upcoming Halloween Masquerade Ball, which was always hosted in the castle’s grand ballroom.

“Have there been any changes in the ley lines, Agatha?” the patriarch asked.

“Nothing beyond the typical fluctuations at the shifting of the seasons,” I reported. “The gardens are thriving, and the wards are stable.”

“Good. See that it stays that way.”

My sister Gertrude, who assisted with the colony’s finances, snickered, and said under her breath, “I hope you can manage that, at least.”

I pretended not to have heard.

Lucien swept his vivid crimson gaze across the room. “I have an important announcement to make. A delegation from the Morteaux Colony will be attending this year’s Halloween Ball.”

Excited murmurs whispered through the hall, echoing off the polished stone floors. I blinked in surprise. It had been many years since another colony had visited. The last time, marriage talks for my older brother, Darius, had been the reason. Most of my siblings were already married, except for me and Gertrude, who was in a long-distance relationship with a vampire who lived in Maine.

A chasm yawned wide in my stomach. I desperately hoped that my instincts were wrong, that the visiting delegation was coming to discuss the marriage of one of my cousins, or unrelated business matters. I wanted to remain entirely uninvolved.

But when Lucien glanced at me, I could not help but stiffen.

Misinterpreting the look, my brother, Ambrose, whispered in my ear, “At least try not to embarrass the colony while the delegation is here, will you? I mean, what will they think when they see you pruning plants in the daylight, like some sort of common hedgewitch?”

My crimson eyes cut to his. “That will not be a problem; your little drinking habit, however, might be harder to hide. Do try not to spill your bloodwine down anyone’s dress this time, would you?”

Ambrose scowled, but before he could retort, the patriarch said, “That concludes today’s meeting.”

I was up and striding out of the room the moment he finished speaking, my thoughts and emotions swirling together in an inner tempest. I fled the castle, needing to move, to feel the cool night air against my face. But no matter how quickly I walked, one question chased me like a phantom: Was I about to be forced into an arranged marriage?