Areyna’s End (Undercover Hybrid Book

2) Bianca Riley
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AREYNA’S END
BIANCA RILEY
Copyright © 2022

Bianca Riley
Areyna’s End

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Artist: Kismet New Moon Graphics & Design

Formatting: Bookish Author Services
To Hannah and Sarah – You’ve both been my saving grace through everything. I’d be lost without
you. Love you always.
To Mary - One day we’ll meet the end of my list and throw a party, till then let’s live vicariously
through the adventures we create together in books.
Special mention to my hubby – That dream you suggested just got so out of hand.
To the readers – I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Thank you for sharing in my
adventures with me.
All my love B. Riley
P.S Don’t hate me – I promise book 3 is coming soon.
 CONTENTS

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40

Afterword
About the Author
Also by Bianca Riley
PROLOGUE
Richard
MY HEART SLOWS FAR TOO MUCH BUT I NEED TO KEEP THE APPEARANCE OF BEING HUMAN . EVERY DROP
she takes from me forces her body to take more. I knew my pure vampire blood was too strong for her
to resist, yet I still ignored the open wound on my arm. The stupid cheerleader hasn’t stop screaming
and it’s making it harder for me to concentrate on keeping my heart from beating. These fools need to
believe I’m dead or they’ll never leave my girl alone.
The school hallway empties out, the silence that follows the emptying of the hallway is deafening.
All I want to do is jump up and run after my girl, but I have to remain still. I need them to believe the
worst of Areyna. I need them to believe I’m dead.
She’s my only hope of saving the rest of the pure bloods. The only chance we have of curing
ourselves of the plague that has been killing us off slowly. With her full powers unlocked from my
blood, she’s now the hope of the entire world.
I just hope these stupid fools will leave me here while they go running off after her. I’d rather not
kill them all just yet.
The fools still have a use.
For now.
ONE
Areyna
S OMETIMES LIFE THROWS YOU A CURVE BALL SO HARD TO CATCH THAT YOU FIND YOURSELF DROPPING
the ball. Well, I certainly dropped the ball. Hell, I dropped it and it fell off a cliff into the deepest
depths of the ocean. Impossible to recover. At least that’s how it feels right now.
I’m not usually such a pessimist, but considering I just killed one of the men in my life, I’m pretty
sure I should get a pass on the whole pessimist verses optimist thing.
My name is Areyna Rose, most people call me Areyna, but in my nightmares, a disembodied
voice calls me Eliza. I’m not sure if that’s my birth name or just my mind playing tricks, but for now,
I’ll stick with the name given to me by my two protectors: Jason Lance and Richard Talon.
I first met the two of them when they rescued me from Laverton Prison. A place where unknown
creatures as dangerous as me are sent to keep everyone safe. I never knew what I was or where I
came from because my memories prior to Laverton are nothing more than glimpses in dreams. I know
I had a family at some point and I know that I lived in a foster home for a while but apart from that,
there’s just a gaping hole of darkness that threatens to swallow me whole if I try to dig into it.
Richard is the man I killed. I felt his heart stop as I lost my fight with my bloodlust and drained
every single drop from his body. Richard was a great man, protective, sweet, a little overbearing at
times, but that’s nothing unusual for a police detective. He and Jason were my guardians, they’d
vowed to keep me safe, protect me from the beast hiding within me.
How’s that for ironic, they swore to protect me and keep me from making the very mistake I made.
Two police detectives, an unknown female hybrid and three teenage male hybrids walk into a high
school full of murderers… Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke huh?
Well the joke was on me. I killed my protector. My friend and possible lover while in the midst of
investigating the murders.
The man I killed was so under the thrall of my stupid hybrid bond that he didn’t even cry out when
I drained him.
I am a murderer.
If it hadn’t been for my new friends, Torren, Derrin, and Remmie, I’d have probably killed Jason
and the bitch cling-on who was in the classroom with us. The bitch is a blonde girl, a cheerleader; the
kind of girl you’d expect sexy guys like Torren, Derrin, and Remmie to fall for. She’s a typical beauty
with her skinny, perfect body and bright bleached hair.
Not that she matters in the grand scheme of things. She was just a moment's distraction for my
addled thoughts. A glitch in the system that is my mind right now.
I’m not sure why I’m fixated on her when the tears are still streaming down my face as I run
headlong into the woods, but she keeps popping back in there as though her presence in that
classroom was important somehow. She’s not important though, she’s just a bystander to the mess that
my life has become in a short space of time.
The dim moonlight filtering in through the trees hurts my eyes, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
Running is all I have now. I need to get as far away from the pain as I can. I need to make it stop, but I
don’t know how.
Something hits my arm, slicing through my shirt and making me cry out. The metallic tang of blood
hits my nose and I gag. Huge wracking sobs tear from my throat as I double over clutching my
stomach to try to temper the pain radiating through my entire body.
 I killed Richard! I killed Richard!
Those three words repeat themselves in my mind, over and over again. Burning my lungs and
blurring my vision as I fall to my knees amongst the decaying leaves beneath a huge tree. My blue-
black hair curtains around my face, obscuring the little bit of view I had left of the forest surrounding
me. It’s okay, though, I don’t need to see. I don’t need to think or feel. This is what I want; To drown
everything out. To hide from the pain and guilt eating away at my soul.
If only his face would leave my mind. If only I could run away from the painful memories that are
haunting me.
I’d been feeling so down after being locked away in Laverton for so long that Richard and
Jason had taken me out for a meal. The first full human meal I could remember having. It was such
a lovely thing to have.
They’d given me brand new clothes just for the occasion; a dress in the softest black fabric
I’ve ever felt against my flesh. Pretty boots with little skulls adorning the straps and underwear
that made me feel like a woman for the first time in my entire life, but what made me feel the most
special was their company.
Richard drove us to the restaurant and held the door open for me as I exited the car into the
crisp night air. The smell of jasmine and roses filled me with hope and a sense of freedom that I
could never explain. Walking into that restaurant with two very handsome men on my arms made
me feel more powerful than any blood I’ve ever drunk.
The way Richard’s and Jason’s suits had clung to every dip and grove of muscle, the tempting
delight of being able to watch as every woman in the restaurant turned their heads, their eyes
flashing with envy that I, a simple vampire-hybrid, could stand tall and proud between these two
sexy men.
Even the simple way they placed their hands on my lower back while guiding me to the chair
that Jason drew out for me, made me feel like anything was possible. After sitting down, Richard
gathered the menus, not even giving me a chance to glance at them before ordering for all of us.
He spoke in fluent French, so I couldn’t even tell you the name of the meals. I’d always found that
to be a pompous move, but Richard pulled it off. From the few memories I had I’d only ever been to
a restaurant once with the foster carers before being sent to Laverton, but this place seemed far
fancier than the one they took me to.
Watching the staff move around the place while we waited for our meals was like watching a
well-rehearsed dance; they moved between the tables and customers like they’d been doing it for
years. I felt uncomfortable at first, but once the food arrived and Richard and Jason began talking
companionably, I began to relax more.
It took me a while to get the hang of using the different cutlery, but by watching the guys, I
figured things out fairly quickly and even managed to enjoy the pasta meal that was placed in front
of me for the main course.
The two of them appeared to be well in sync with each other, as though they’d been together
for years and it made me wonder if they were together. They laughed and joked, chatted and leaned
towards each other, only making my assumptions that much more.
Of course I found out much later that they weren’t together like that, but at the time…
As relaxed as I was in that moment at the restaurant, I knew in my heart that nothing lasts. Nothing
good ever stays the same. Everything I’ve been through since then has only shown me that I was right.
I just wish it wasn’t me who ruined it all.
Even knowing what I’ve done, the thing I regret the most is the fact that I’ll never have the sweet
tenderness they reserved for me. I’ll never come home knowing that they’re waiting for me. I’ll miss
the loving way they’ve taken care of me. The fact that even at my worst, they’ve been there to guide
me through it.
At least they were there, until I fucked it all up and killed Richard. Jason will never forgive me
for taking his best friend away. I’ll never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused him.
I lean my back against the nearest tree and bring my knees to my chest before burying my face in
the soft fabric. My entire body shakes as the pain bleeds out of me in sounds that I’ve never heard
come out of a human mouth.
“Areyna!” But of course, Remmie of all people would find me. Remington Salvis, sexiest
psychopathic geek I’ve ever met. We had a moment together not too long ago. A moment that left me
wanting to see if we could have been more than just friends, but not now. I don’t deserve to have
more. I don’t even deserve his friendship. Not after what I did.
I’d been in the school’s gardening shed with Remmie when it all began. Things had been great;
we were kissing and things were getting quite heavy when Derrin burst in on us. He seemed more
shocked than anything at first, then his gaze landed solely on me. I cleared my throat in an effort
to break the mounting tension I could feel in the air. “We were just… I got worked up… I mean
angry… The cheerleader….” I trailed off unsure exactly how to explain things. I felt like I’d
betrayed him in some way but even now I can’t explain in what way I betrayed him.
“Just stop!” The growl that came out of his mouth wasn’t one of anger but one of frustration,
of need. As though he wished he’d been the one to hold me in his arms. His chaotic thoughts
flashed through my mind, letting me know that my assumption was spot on. He wasn’t angry at all.
He was jealous.
Remmie, however, didn't have the luxury of hearing Derrin’s thoughts like I did. He reacted
without thinking it through, assuming that Derrin was angry, he leaped past me and in the blink of
an eye, he had Derrin pinned to the ground. My breath left me in a rush as he wrapped his hands
around Derrin’s throat, threatening to choke the life out of him. “Don’t ever threaten her again!”
His shout shook me to my core. I’d never seen Remmie so angry before, but that wasn’t the worst
thing that happened.
Remmie had heard my thoughts. Heard them as though I’d spoken out loud just like Derrin
hears them. They’d argued about the fact that Remmie had kissed me then the voice had spoken
over the school’s loudspeakers, “All students please report to the main hall. This is not a drill.”
The words were female, robotic and repeated over and over again. I thought we were safe. I
thought that we’d be all right.
I was wrong.
I’m a murderer.
Chaos, pain, darkness, they’re all I can see and feel right now as though with the setting sun, I too
have lost my light. Lost is an understatement. I killed someone I love and there’s no going back from
something like that. Not now. Not ever.
I’m a murderer.
A killer.
A monster.
“Areyna, snap out of it, we have to go back.” I can feel him shaking my shoulders, but I don’t want
to feel anything. My mouth opens to speak but nothing more than a painful keening sound comes out. I
want to tell him to go away. To leave me alone but the words just won’t form.
“You’re in shock. I’m going to stand you up. Do you think you can walk?” Remmie lifts me to my
feet but I’m not strong enough to stand, the second he lets go, I fall back to my knees. Everything in my
stomach comes flying out, splattering his shoes in blood.
I can’t pull my gaze away from the blood staining the ground in front of me. I can’t stop staring at
the vibrant colour as it contrasts with the deep ombre of the decaying leaves. I’ve seen blood so many
times before. Fresh blood as it’s dripped from open wounds, blood in bags that Richard and Jason
tried to feed me with, but this blood, it’s different from all that. This blood…
“It’s Richard’s blood.” I wail as Richard’s face once again fills my mind. He’s all I can see. All I
can feel. His bright emerald eyes that always made me feel like I was running through a never-ending
forest. His full pouty lips that I dreamed of one day kissing. His thick dark curls that I would give
anything to run my fingers through… It’s all tainted by those final moments when I drained the very
life out of him. Felt his heart stop beating. I didn’t just feel it, I heard it. That deafening silence that
echoed around the classroom. The final nail in my coffin or rather Richard’s coffin as it were.
“Don’t think about that right now. Let’s just get you somewhere safe. Okay?” The world spins as
Remmie lifts me into his arms heedless of the mess I’m covered in. He’s stronger than I thought,
carrying me effortlessly back through the woods and across the football oval in the blink of an eye.
“Torren, Derrin and Jase are waiting for us in the parking lot. We’re nearly there. Just hold on a few
more seconds.”
The world goes black before I can respond.
TWO
Remmie
S OMETHING FEELS DIFFERENT ABOUT AREYNA. THE LAST TIME I HELD HER IN MY ARMS , SHE FELT
alive, seductive and pure. Now she feels almost wrong. As though something inside her has cracked
and shattered into a million pieces, yet beneath the pain and heartache there’s something else.
Something I can’t quite name. It’s not her looks that are different, she’s still the same gorgeous girl I
met a couple of weeks ago. Same blue-black hair that shines like it’s always being cast in moonlight.
Same tumultuously stormy eyes. Same kissable ruby lips. Same everything on the outside, but there is
something different.
It’s just another piece to add to the growing puzzle that is Areyna, but this feels important
somehow. Almost as though the answers to this are just within my grasp and will be needed in the
days to come, but it's teasing me. Hanging just out of reach and refusing to reveal itself.
Her body goes limp in my arms just as I reach Torren’s Cadillac where the others are waiting for
us. None of them can look at her face, knowing what she did. While I understand this is normal, I
can’t understand why looking at her is painful for them. Especially Jason, who’s sitting in the back
seat, staring at his hands as I gently lower Areyna to the seat beside him. After the way he panicked
over her taking off, you’d think he would be taking her out of my arms and holding onto her as tightly
as possible, but no, instead he starts shouting, “You should have left her out there. It would have been
better for everyone if you had.” He glares at her limp form like he wishes she was dead. I’ve seen
grief in my short life, but not once have I seen anyone react the way Jason is. The sheer anger
radiating from him is enough to make me want to take Areyna and hide her from him.
I wouldn’t put it past him to do something horrible to her.
The air inside the car feels thick with all the heightened emotions, but the thing I find most odd is
the tingle that runs down my spine and the heady feeling of desire that wars with my head. It’s like I
can sense their emotions more fully and it's somehow feeding me.
Torren, my blonde-haired best friend of ten years, leans over between the seats and supports her
head, allowing me to climb into the car with them. As he turns back to start the car, I stroke my hands
through Areyna’s unusual blue-black hair, letting the silky texture relax my dishevelled mind. At one
point or another, all of us, my friends, Torren, Derrin and I, have lost control, but not one of us has
ever taken a life before. I can’t imagine what Areyna is going through, but from every book I’ve read,
I know it’s going to be near on impossible for her to remain as she was after all this.
Areyna’s been so still in my arms that I keep shifting her, just to hear the little sounds she makes. It
reassures me that she’s still with us but doesn’t do anything to alleviate my worries. I don’t like the
thought of her going through something as traumatic as taking a life. I wish there was more I could do
to help her, but right now, all I really can do is hold her and ensure she isn’t left alone for too long.
Being alone is the worst thing for her right now.
I’ve been trying to wrack my brains over what else I could do to help her once she wakes up, but
I’ve vetoed every thought I’ve had and it just made me feel even more helpless. There’s nothing I’m
able to do right now, other than just hold her in my arms as we pull into the driveway of Jason and
Richard’s house.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as Derrin tells me about what happened after I chased after Areyna,
“We all ran from the classroom, but when you told us to turn back Rem, we discovered that Richard’s
body went missing and that cheerleader that was in the room with us, she vanished as well. Something
weird is going on.”
“Table it for later, let’s just get Areyna inside where it’s safe and we’ll figure things out then.” I
respond absently.
I’m half tempted to snatch Areyna away, hide her in my house, but that would mean having to
answer my mother’s and cousin’s questions and that I can’t do. Especially since my cousin still has no
idea that I’m not fully human.
Derrin rounds the car and gently eases Areyna out with little help from me. She looks so tiny, so
innocent cradled within his arms, all I want to do is protect her from what’s to come, but I know
nothing will fix things. Nothing will make her pain and guilt disappear. I gently take her from him,
pulling her tightly against my chest. There’s something about Areyna that makes me want to protect
her. It’s not just that though, there’s a part of me that craves her; wants to consume her in every way
imaginable. I’ve felt the pull since the moment I met her, as much as I tried to deny it. She’s a drug that
I’m addicted to and I never want to give her up.
I’m just not sure if she’s good for me or if I should be running for the hills.
Jason once again glares at Areyna as I carry her through his open front door and up the stairs to
her room. I don’t bother looking around at the sparse furniture or lack of personal effects, I’ve seen
her room enough through her window late at night to know she has never really seemed to be at home
here. She’s always been an outsider, I’m not sure if it’s by choice or if she just didn’t feel like she
belonged but something about her not calling this place home makes me feel sad. I don’t feel emotions
much, but around her, I feel everything. It confuses me and forces me to look more closely at things.
Like the fact that I lost control earlier today while feeding her my blood and kissed her. Several
times. Hell, I’m fairly certain if we hadn’t been interrupted we’d have done more than just kiss. The
question is was it my feelings that made everything so hot and heavy or was I feeling her feelings and
losing myself in her lustful needs?
I’m pulled from my thoughts the moment Torren is at my side, pulling the purple blanket on her
bed back so I can lay her down on the far too soft mattress. She doesn’t even stir as I gently tug
strands of her hair away from her face. I hesitate for a moment, unsure if we should leave her or wake
her up and make her shower and brush her teeth. She’s pretty gross to be honest; her legs and ass
covered in mud from the woods while the top she’s wearing is splattered in blood. I take a step away,
then whirl right back around and begin striping her carefully of the disgusting clothes. I can feel
Torren glaring as he hisses at me but I don’t explain, simply shushing him and waving my hand
towards her wardrobe. He frowns for a moment before understanding finally dawns on his face.
It’s not the first time we’ve had to undress and redress Areyna, but with the way our relationship
has grown over the last couple of weeks, even I’m having a hard time doing what I feel needs to be
done. I know I wouldn’t want to wake up covered in someone else’s blood, so I grit my teeth against
my doubts and work as quickly and gently as possible. Between Torren and I, we have her changed
and put to bed in mere minutes and both of us head downstairs to face the drama we can hear
unfolding in the kitchen.
THREE
Derrin
“I DON ’ T WANT HER HERE!” F OR THE TENTH TIME IN AS MANY MINUTES J ASON SHOUTS AT ME TO TAKE
Areyna away from his house. He’s been shouting and pacing this entire time and it’s beginning to
drive me insane. He screws his face up and turns around so he’s facing me once more. “Get rid of
her!” His face turns red with each word. Spittle flying from his lips as he breathes like he’s run a
marathon.
In any other circumstances I’d agree with him about Areyna going to stay somewhere else, but we
need to work together to protect her. I’m not sure what it is about her that makes me want to protect
her, it’s not a want though, it’s a need; Like she’s a part of me or belongs to me, I’m not really sure
which.
I reign my temper in forcefully and focus on keeping the peace. I can’t afford to lose it now,
especially not after trying to hurt Remmie earlier when I caught him kissing Areyna. Now is not the
time to be thinking about that, but despite everything that’s happened, I can’t stop thinking about it.
Jason continues shouting but I ignore him for the most part, at least I was ignoring him, until he
says, “She killed my best friend. She should be in jail!”
His words break the thin tether I had on my temper, “She’s ours no one is taking her from us!” I
shout getting in Jason’s face. His piercing grey eyes are hard like stone but it’s the tick in his jaw that
clues me in to why he’s acting like this. He’s hurting because he lost his best friend and if it was
Remmie or Torren who’d died, I’d probably feel the same, but I wouldn’t take it out on the poor girl
who lost control.
“Areyna isn’t evil, she just made a mistake, that’s all. Granted it’s a mistake that cost someone
their life, but it’s not like she was out there hunting for sport or anything malicious like that.” My
words are clipped but the raging fire of my anger is back to nothing more than a simmer as I release
my hold on Jason’s shirt.
“Ours?” Jason screeches, his face turning a deeper shade of red. “Are you hearing yourself?” He
grips his hair in both his fists, yanking hard enough to make even me wince. I didn’t mean to say ours.
I'd actually wanted to say mine, but the word slipped out and for once I don’t want to correct the slip
of my tongue. It feels right claiming her for all of us and even though I know I can’t stand the thought
of her with anyone else, I know she’s not just mine.
“She’s a fucking leech. Taking everything and never giving anything in return.” Spittle once again
flies from his mouth as he practically foams at the mouth. I want to deck him, beat the ever-loving shit
out of him until he’s nothing but a bloody pulp, but I know Areyna would never forgive me if I did.
Jason continues to shout, forcing me to grit my teeth and grab the wooden benchtop to stop myself
from reacting, but then he says, “She took Richard from me. She’ll kill us all.”
Before I can think, my fist is flying into his face. Cartilage and bone crunching from the impact.
Arms wrap around me, pulling me away from Jason. I struggle for a moment before my rage
dissipates, numbing me from everything. Part of me knows that Jason is right, Areyna is dangerous,
but not in the way he thinks. She’s not dangerous because we don’t know the truth of what happened in
her past. We don’t know the truth of what really went down at the school either and we don’t know
what connection she has to the council, but that doesn’t make her dangerous. The only thing that makes
her dangerous is that she’s likely to come between my best friends and me. She could very well tear
us apart if she ever chooses just one of us.
 Walking away sounds like a good plan. Shit, no, I can’t walk away. I need her just as much as
she needs me right now. I slump in Torrens arms and he lets me go. Maybe we should be working on
a way to convince her that she needs all of us. I’m not sure I could handle seeing her with any of the
others, but I’d try if it meant I could be with her.
“Keep your voices down. Areyna’s been through enough. Let her rest.” Remmie snaps as he walks
into the kitchen. Remmie’s always been our voice of reason. The one who stays calm in the face of
insurmountable odds, but even his hands shake as he goes over to the cupboard and pulls out a bottle
of whiskey.
“She’s been through enough? Look at what she did to Richard!” Jason screams, blood dripping
down his chin from his busted nose.
“You know as well as I do that she didn’t do that on purpose, it was an accident.” He pours shots
of whiskey into several shot glasses before placing them on a tray and walking over to the table.
“We’ve all lost control at some point or another.” Remmie says placing the tray on the table. I don’t
know how Remmie does it, remaining so calm in the face of this mess. He’s a better man than I am,
that’s for sure. All I want to do is rip Jason apart until he’s begging for Areyna’s forgiveness.
The silence in the kitchen stretches on for so long that I’m just starting to regain control of my
tumultuous emotions but Jason just won’t leave it be, he snaps, “Did you lot kill anyone?”
I want to shout at him, tell him that’s not the point, but do you think I can get the words out past my
clenched teeth.
“No, bu-.” Jason doesn’t give Remmie the chance to finish speaking, he cuts right over the top of
him, slicing his hand through the air as though he’s physically cutting Remmie’s words off, “There’s
no excuse, she killed my best friend.” He swipes his hand across the table, sending the shot glasses
into the wall, shattering them on impact. I watch the glass and liquid run down the wall, pooling on
the floor before turning my back on him. The entire room now smells like a distillery, but that’s not
what bothers me the most. No, what bothers me is that he keeps talking, “I’m a police Detective,” He
shouts as though none of us are aware of that fact. “I should be arresting her, not helping her.”
“Helping her?” I shout back, storming towards him. Remmie bars my path, placing his hand firmly
on my chest. I lean around him, shouting back at Jason, “Exactly what are you doing to help her
Jason?” His lips thin, refusing to voice the truth, so I do instead, “Shouting and calling her a monster,
a murderer? You think that’s helping?!” I breathe through my nostrils, struggling not to beat him up.
“She wouldn’t hurt anyone under normal circumstances. She’s not a murderer or a monster and the
fact that you think she is shows just how little you actually care about her!” I hiss before storming out
of the kitchen.
I end up taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to return to my girl. I don’t like the thought of
her waking up alone after what she’s been through. I know it’s just an excuse to walk away before I
do more harm than good, but no one else needs to know that. Areyna means more to me than I could
explain, even though I haven’t known her that long. There’s this connection between us that makes me
want to protect her. Even if it’s a little thing like being there when she wakes up.
I needn’t have worried; I walk into her room, to find her sitting up in her bed, staring down at the
change of clothes she’s now wearing. “You were covered in mud, Remmie made sure you didn’t have
to wake up to that.” I whisper, crossing her room to her side of the bed. I don’t tell her that she was
also covered in blood and vomit, but with our enhanced senses, I’m sure she can smell it.
Her stormy blue eyes lift for a second, locking on mine with a laser focus I didn’t think she’d be
capable of yet. “I don’t want to talk. Don’t try to make me talk about it.” She whispers.
“I won’t make you talk, but you aren’t alone in this.” I take a step closer, careful not to startle her
by moving too fast. When she remains silent, still staring at me with those sad eyes, I say, “We should
get you cleaned up. A nice hot bath will make you feel more like yourself.”
“Okay.” She mumbles.
I help her out of the bed and follow her into the bathroom. Torren did this with her once so I don’t
see the harm in it. Especially since I don’t think she should be left alone right now. It’s not that I’m
worried she’ll hurt herself or anything, I’m more worried that she might go into shock and pass out.
Last thing we need is her getting hurt and needing more blood. That might traumatise her even more.
I didn’t think beyond the idea of getting her clean and comfortable. I lean around her and turn the
taps on, making sure the temperature is right then drop the plug in the tub. The gurgling of the water is
the only sound aside from our breathing. I don’t know what to say as we just stand here waiting for
the tub to fill.
Should I compliment her? She’s beautiful even as messy as she is right now. Should I offer to
help her take her clothes off or is that going too far? Fuck if only I was more like Torren, he
always knows the right things to say.
The awkwardness gets worse as we both just stand here in complete silence. After what feels like
forever she dips her hand into the water and turns the taps off. “Would you stay?”
“If you want me to.” I could slap my own face right now. Come on Derrin, you’ve got more game
than this.
“You know I can hear everything you’re thinking, right?”
“Fuck.” I hang my head, “I’m sorry. I’m just-.”
“Nervous, I know. It’s okay, I’m not going to break and I don’t need you to stop being your normal
cheeky self just because I fucked up.” She drops the pants she was wearing to the tiled floor without
so much as blushing. I bend down and scoop them up, catching her shirt with my face as she tosses
that off as well.
By the time I pull the shirt off my face, she’s in the water, her bra and panties lying on the floor
beside the tub. Damn, missed the best view.
“I heard that too.” She snarks, leaning her head back further in the water.
“Can I wash your hair?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I’d love that.” She whispers.
While my fingers sift through her hair, I can’t help saying, “Sometimes we need to see the light
within the darkness before we can move on. You are my Light Areyna; you pull me from the darkness
and give me hope. I just want you to know that you’re never going to be alone, I’ll always be here for
you.”
“Thank you.” She mumbles, a cute blush staining her cheeks.
Her bath is over far too quickly, yet not quick enough. I have to adjust my boner behind the towel I
hold out to her before following her naked form back into the room. She pulls on some clean pyjamas
and props herself up on the bed. I don’t want to leave just yet, so I say the first thing that pops into my
head, “I know what you’re going through, I’ve been there.” I sit down beside her on the bed, reaching
my hand out until it’s resting on her lower back. She flinches away from my touch, but I persevere,
gathering her into my arms and placing a chaste kiss against her still damp blue-black hair. “I too have
lost control of my hunger.” The memory of that day plays out inside my head as I tell her the story of
how I got the scar on the side of my face…
The race’s finish line looms ahead, only three more corners and I’ll have this race in the bag. I
watch in shock as the guy in second place cuts in front of me dangerously on a turn. Remmie
screamed “Look out!” Echoes in my ears.
 The blow to my face forces my head to rear back, but it’s my best friend, my brother, in the
passenger seat that I’m worried about. I tear the seatbelt from its holder before shoving my way
through the broken window.
I’ve been racing these streets since I was fourteen, but this is the first time I’ve ever crashed. I
still can’t believe I crashed, even though I can feel the blood trickling down my face. Remmie’s
glasses are missing, his face a mask of pain, but I can’t see any open wounds anywhere. I pull his
door free, the metal screeching as I practically pull it off its hinges. “Rem, are you hurt?”
“I think I cracked a rib, but no other injuries. How did that happen?” Rem shakes his head,
seeming lost to his own thoughts as I carefully lift him out of the car. I search every inch of him,
looking for any other injuries. “Enough Derrin, I am fine. Go check on the other driver, his car
flipped and he’s only human.”
Nodding, I race over to the upside-down car and peer in through the broken window. The
driver hangs from the seat, his arms lifeless. I can smell the blood; my fangs dropping out of my
gums in response. I shut my eyes tight in an effort to stave off the bloodlust, but it doesn’t lessen
the slow thud of his heartbeat. I bite into my own lip to stop myself from biting into the vein I can
see pulsing in his neck.
I’m injured, starving and barely holding the hunger at bay, but I start to hum a tune I once
heard my mother sing. Anything to drown out the thump, thump I can hear.
The crash might not have been my fault, but I still feel responsible for getting him out of the
car and to a hospital. Careful not to jostle him too much, I reach into the car and press my palm
against his chest, holding him in place while I release the seat belt. I can feel the moment his body
succumbs to gravity, but my palm holds him steadily in place. It’s difficult to manoeuvre him down
to the ground from this angle but it needs to be done. I can smell the petrol leaking from his car.
That’s never a good sign.
By the time I get the kid out of his car and a safe distance away, all mine and Remmie’s injuries
have healed, but the kid’s looking worse. There’s so much blood that I can’t even breathe without
shaking. “We need to go Derrin; the ambulance will be here any minute.” I know Remmie is right,
but I don’t want to leave. I want to feed. My fangs tingle as I lean over, my vision narrowing to that
single point where his pulse beats in his neck. “We need to go!” Rem grabs my arm, pulling me
away from making the biggest mistake of my life. He drags me towards what’s left of my car. We
can’t leave it here or the police will start asking questions, but I’m not even sure it’ll run after the
beating it took. I run through the possible issues we might have getting the car going, anything to
distract me from the burning need to go back and drain the guy of every drop of blood. To my
shock the car starts first go.
It doesn’t take us long to get out of there, but once we’re far enough away, I shut the engine off,
jump out and toss Rem the keys. “I’m going back to make sure he’s alright.”
“No.” Rem snaps grabbing my arm.
“I need to make sure he’s okay.” I hiss.
Rem frowns at me but nods. “We’ll go together. Neither of us should be around anyone injured
right now, but together we can keep each other in check.”
I forcefully pull my mind back from the memory, “The kid turned out to only have a concussion,
but it was touch and go for a few days. I don’t know what I would have done if he’d died, but it was a
close call.” I say ending my story.
Areyna’s wide blue eyes stare at me for a few moments before she lifts her hand and traces the
scar running down the side of my face. “I’m glad you helped the human, and neither you nor Remmie
were hurt too badly, but that is nothing like what I’m going through. You didn’t drain the kid. You kept
your hunger in check and saved him.” She scrubs her hands down her face, wiping the tears away, “I
killed Richard. Drained him dry and then ran away like a coward.” She begins to sob harder and my
heart breaks at the sight. There’s nothing more I can say, so I wrap her in my arms and just hold her
tight until her sobs subside and she falls asleep.
FOUR
Areyna
I WAKE IN A COLD SWEAT , MY BODY STIFF AND SORE. I’ M NOT SURE HOW I GOT HOME OR HOW I ENDED
up in my own bed wearing a clean set of clothes, the last thing I remember is running through the
woods. As my mind clears, bits and pieces start returning, things like Derrin keeping me company
while I bathed, him holding me after telling me how he got his scar. How I broke down and he held
me, whispering words of comfort. I feel like I should still be crying but there’s no tears left inside me.
There’s nothing left inside me. It’s too painful to feel, so I shut it all down.
I pull myself from the bed, walk into the bathroom and shower before throwing on my favourite
jeans and button up shirt. The roses running down the sleeves make me feel brighter than I am, but it
helps with the façade I’m putting on. As I stand in front of the mirror brushing out my long blue and
black hair, I practice smiling. The first one looks too much like a grimace so I tone it down so it’s a
thin wobbly smile, but it’s a smile none-the-less.
“Fake it till you make it. This isn’t the first time someone has died by your hands Areyna. It won’t
be the last.” I hiss at my reflection. My gaze catches on my eyes and for a moment I see another set of
eyes staring back at me. They belong to the face of a ghost I’d long since forgotten, but it brings my
thoughts back to the nightmare I’d had right before waking up…
The rain pours down, forcing me to get out of bed or have an accident. The last time I had an
accident, my father got angry at my mumma. I don’t want that to happen again so I sneak out of my
room and run down the hallway on soft feet. With slow careful movements, I turn the handle and
slip into the bathroom. Lightning flashes, illuminating the spacious room for a heartbeat before
plunging me back into the dark. I count the seconds until I hear the thunder, just like mummy
taught me; I count to twenty before the boom rattles the windows. The next flash comes just as I’m
washing my hands. This boom comes within the count of ten. Mummy says it means the storm’s
centre is coming closer. I finish in the bathroom and sneak back out into the hallway. Every flash
has me counting off the seconds until I reach my bedroom, thunder booms at the same time as the
flash and I jump into my bed, pulling the covers up over my head.
I know it’s silly to try hiding from the thunder. It’s not like a sound can hurt you, but it feels so
much safer under here.
I feel someone bounce on my bed and I laugh, knowing that it could only be one of two people.
My brother or my mother. No one else ever comes into my bedroom after lights out. “Eliza, can I
sleep in here? Mummy and Daddy are still at the party and that scary nanny is here again.”
I laugh at my little brother’s frantic words. I don’t blame him for thinking the night nanny is
scary, she looks like one of those assassin ladies you see on TV, the ones who look far too perfect
to be real and she talks like she has something stuck in her throat all the time. It’s this creepy
husky rasp that makes me shiver.
“Come on squirt.” I say, patting the bed beside me. My little brother climbs up, his little hands
gripping the sheets tightly. He’s only five, I’m only seven myself, but I’m bigger and smarter than
he is. He lays down beside me, facing me with a wobbly smile that’s illuminated by the lightning. I
grasp his hand without saying a word. He knows he’s my best friend, even if he does annoy me
sometimes.
We’ll always be best friends. I think to myself as we both drift off to sleep to the sound of the
thundering rain.
 Boom! I bolt upright in bed, staring at the window wondering why the thunder sounded
strange. Another boom rings out and I twist around, grasping for my brother’s hand. “Ozzie?” I
call softly. The lump under the blanket doesn’t move. I grab his shoulder and shake him, “Ozzie!” I
shout, ripping the sheets back.
Lightning flashes and all I see is red. The red covers the pillow, the blankets and my brother’s
dinosaur pyjamas. He’s not moving, not even breathing. I scream, falling from the bed in my hurry
to get away from the horrible sight of my brother covered in red. Tears blur my sight as I run out of
the room, searching for my mumma. She always knows what to do when we hurt. She’ll make
everything better.
I ran down the hallway straight to Mumma’s room. Her bed is still made so I turn back around
and run to the stairs, peering through all the rooms I pass. There has to be someone who will help.
“Mumma!”
No one answers me.
I run to the kitchen in the hopes of finding the cook who is always up this early. I slip in
something on the floor and scream my heart out at the sight of my mumma lying in a pool of red.
“What do we have here?” A cold voice asks behind me. I turn just in time to see the barrel of a
gun. I see the flash it makes but the sound is drowned out by the peal of thunder outside.
Darkness surrounds me.
I’m jolted out of the nightmare a second time, this instance it’s by the shouts coming from
downstairs, “Figure it out, I don’t want her under my roof another day!” Jason’s voice echoes in the
silence that follows, breaking my heart into a million pieces. How am I supposed to fake being
happy when someone I love is in so much pain? Pain that I caused.
I pull my boots on and follow the sound of his heart-wrenching sobs to the kitchen.
To see his golden curls in such disarray is bad, but to see the utter look of despair on his face is
gut wrenching. He’s broken and I’m the one who caused him to be this way. I want nothing more than
to take his pain away. Erase it from his grey eyes and make him smile once more. I know you can’t do
things like that, not even in our world where magic exists and demons roam the Earth, but if I could, I
would in a heartbeat.
Tears I thought were dried up, track down my cheeks as I move towards him. Words stick in my
throat so the only thing that’s audible is his name, “Jase?” I gently place my hand on his shoulder, to
let him know I’m here, to let him know that I too feel the pain of his loss.
“Don’t touch me!” He snaps, leaping from the chair and backing himself against the wall as far
away from me as he can get. I’ve never seen the sheer hatred in his eyes before. The usually soft grey
is as hard as granite as he glares at me as though he wishes I would drop dead at his feet. If it would
make his pain lessen, I would gladly die for him, but I can’t and it won’t take his heartache away.
“Jason, please. You know I didn’t mean to do it.” I plead, hoping to at least erase some of the hatred
from his eyes.
“You’re a monster, you killed Richard!” His words cut me to my core. Tears blur my vision as I
struggle to hold it all in. If I cry now, I’ll break. I can’t break, Jason needs me. I know he’s only
shouting through pain, but it hurts to see him like this. It hurts to know that I’m the cause of his pain.
“I don’t want you here. Just leave!” When I don’t move, he shouts, “Get the fuck out Areyna!”
My Jason no longer stands before me, in his place is a man who has lost everything and isn’t
afraid to take out the last thing causing him pain. I do the only thing I can for him. I turn and run.
FIVE
Jason
I CAN ’ T BELIEVE SHE EXPECTS ME TO FORGIVE HER FOR WHAT SHE DID . S HE TOOK MY BEST FRIEND
from me and I’m supposed to what?
Just pretend it didn’t happen by her hands?
Am I supposed to just accept that she’s not the girl I thought she was?
She needs to go.
I grab my phone and send the message I should have sent the moment it happened.

Jason: It’s time to collect.

For a moment I feel guilty calling on Ossias for help, but the truth is I owe him and this will clear
my slate. It has been three years, so it’s about time I paid my debt. The best thing is, it’ll get rid of my
problem at the same time.
Four years ago…
They closed in around me, their teeth bared in a snarl that makes my entire body shiver. I knew
I should’ve done more to stop my mother, but she swore she knew what she was doing.
She was wrong. Not only did the spell cost her life, but the wolves she used it on are now pissed
and are blaming me. It’s not like I did the magic; my mother just used me as an anchor, how were
we to know that doing so would result in their affliction growing worse instead of better?
The spell went wrong, instead of curing their curse – Wolf shaped herpes all over their bodies,
Which a witch put on them when they cheated on her – it forced them to shift anytime they were
aroused.
I have to admit, I laughed at them when they told me what they were now suffering from, but
that was obviously the wrong thing to do, after all, they are now glaring at me after cornering me
in a dark alley. “Come on guys, you really only have yourselves to blame for your affliction. If
you’d just apologised to the woman instead of trying to weasel your way out of the punishment,
she probably would have removed the curse.”
It's totally the wrong thing to say, the four of them leap at me, their fingers outstretched as
though they’re going to claw my eyes out with them. My mouth drops open as I realise their curse
repercussion is worse than I’d originally thought. They can’t shift at all unless they’re aroused.
This revelation causes me to burst out laughing.
Again, the wrong thing to do.
With animal-like snarls they all close in on me, their fists flying at every exposed part of my
body. I try to defend myself, but my powers have been playing up ever since we tried to help them.
My jaw aches, my ribs feel like they’ve been broken and I’m fairly certain one of them kicked
me in the back as I lay curled into the foetal position. They’re too big and strong to fight alone.
“Hey!” The shout comes from the mouth of the alley. I’m not sure if I should be grateful or
more afraid as the person who shouted moves into the dim light from the nearest window. He looks
like an avenging angel, his dark as night hair blowing in the wind and his blue eyes glowing like
he’s about to unleash a storm on the assholes pummelling me.
I swear all I have time for is a blink of my eyes and my assailants are all rendered
unconscious.
 “I owe you one.” I groan.
“Yeah, you do. Believe me, one day I’ll collect, but for now, let’s get you cleaned up and
somewhere safe.”
I pull myself out of my memory and sigh. If I hadn’t been so stupid back then, I might have been
able to prevent the problems we caused. I know I can fix the problems I’m now facing. I just have to
ensure no one can interfere with what’s to come.
Hell I even told Areyna a lie by saying my parents were killed by a hitman after a case they were
working on went wrong. The truth is they were killed by magical backlash from the spell. First my
mother, then my father a few days later. The spell drained them of everything they had and my mother
never told my father that she’d linked him to the spell. It’s one of the biggest regrets I have, but I still
wouldn’t tell anyone the truth.
Witches have rules that we’re supposed to follow and that night, doing that spell, we broke more
than a few. I’ve been careful since then not to cross those lines, but without having anyone to teach me
properly, I’m fairly certain I’ve crossed the lines a few times now.
The biggest rules Witches have to abide by are;
Never tether the magic to a person without their permission.
Never raise the dead.
Never create life from nothing.
There are hundreds of minor laws that follow those, but they’re the main ones that will result in a
death sentence without trial if broken and caught.
Of course there’s also the don’t expose magic to humans, but everyone has a work around for that,
even me. My preferred method is the memory wipe spell, but that’s a tricky one to cast, sometimes it
erases more than you mean for it to.
Another random document with
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 Fig. 37

It is said that the Indians boiled these berries, and then thought
them very good to eat.
If we were lost in the woods, and obliged to live upon the plants
about us, I dare say we should eat, and perhaps enjoy eating, many
things which now seem quite impossible; but until this happens I
advise you not to experiment with strange leaves and roots and
berries. Every little while one reads of the death of some child as the
result of eating a poisonous plant.

Fig. 38

The next picture (Fig. 38) shows you the fruit of Solomon’s seal.
These dark-blue berries hang from beneath the leafy stem, just as
the little flowers hung their yellow heads last May.
Next come the speckled red berries of the false Solomon’s seal
(Fig. 39), a big cousin of the smaller plant. As you see, this bears its
fruit quite differently, all in a cluster at the upper part of the stem.
These two plants seem to be great chums, constantly growing side
by side.
We have been so busy and so happy that the morning has flown,
and now we must be finding our way home to dinner; for, unlike the
birds, we are not satisfied to dine on berries alone.

Fig. 39

At almost every step we long to stop and look at some new plant
in fruit; for, now that we have learned how to look for them, berries of
different sorts seem thick on every side.

Fig. 40
 Fig. 41

Low at our feet are the red ones of the wintergreen (Fig. 40).
On taller plants grow the odd white ones, with blackish spots, of
the white baneberry (Fig. 41), or the red ones of the red baneberry.
Still higher glisten the dark, glass-like clusters of the spikenard.

Fig. 42

Along the lane are glowing barberries (Fig. 42) and thorns bright
with their “haws” (for the fruit of the thorn is called a “haw”). These
look something like little apples.
Here, too, is the black alder, studded with its red, waxy beads. But
we must hurry on, not stopping by the way. And you can be sure that
those birds we hear chirruping above us are glad enough to be left to
finish their dinner in peace.
 WHY SEEDS TRAVEL

A T last I think we all understand that by the red of the apple, the
purple of the plum, and the different colors worn by the berries
we find in the woods, these plants are inviting us, and the birds also,
to eat their fruit, and so release from prison their little seeds.
But what would happen, do you suppose, if no one should accept
this invitation? What would become of their seeds if these pears and
apples and berries were not eaten by boys and girls and birds?
Most of this question you can answer for yourselves.
If you leave the apple on the tree, after a time it falls off upon the
ground; and unless picked up, there it lies till it decays. In the
orchard every fall you see apples decaying on the ground. In a little
while the fleshy part disappears, and the little seeds are thus let out
of prison without help.
But many plants are not satisfied to leave their seeds so near
home. Why is this, do you suppose?
Well, this is quite a long story.
All plants of the same kind need just the same sort of food. If too
many apple trees grow together, they soon use up all the apple-tree
food in the neighborhood.
So if a seed is to grow into a strong, hearty, well-fed plant, it ought
to begin life in some place not already full of plants in search of just
the food that it needs for itself.
If a plant or tree makes its fruit so good to eat that some boy or girl
or bird is likely to pick it, the chances are that it will be carried at
least a short distance before its seeds are dropped upon the ground.
Once in a while a plant is rewarded for its pains by having its
young carried thousands of miles.
Think how far from its home the peach has traveled. As I told you
before, it comes to us from Persia.
 Now, if the Persian peach tree had not made its fruit very juicy and
delicious, it is not likely that any one would have taken the trouble to
bring its seeds way over here to us.
But this peach being what it is, one of the most delicious of fruits,
the tree was rewarded for its pains by having its children taken
where they were petted, and made much of, and had things all their
own way; for no other peach trees were on hand to do their best to
crowd them out.
Then think of the little partridge berry. The fleshy part of this the
birds eat and digest. But the little seeds pass unharmed from the
bird’s stomach to the earth, sometimes many miles from the woods
where they were born.
What is true of the peach and of the partridge berry is true of many
other fruits.
Without the help of man or bird or beast, these little seeds could at
last get out of their seed cases; but without such help, often they
could not get the start in life they need.
So it would seem as if a fruit’s bright color and delicious flavor
were saying to us not only, “Come and eat us and set our seeds
free,” but also, “and carry us far away, so that we may have a fair
chance in the world.”
 SOME LITTLE TRAMPS

Fig. 43

W HEN I came home from that walk in the woods the other day, it
took me some time to rid my clothes of many odd-looking little
things, such as you see in the picture above (Fig. 43).
This round burr (Fig. 44) was one of the worst of my hangers-on.
You know it quite well. It is the fruit of the burdock. Can some child
tell me why I call this prickly burr a fruit?

Fig. 44

Now let us look carefully at this seed case or fruit of the burdock.
Instead of being smooth to the touch, like some other fruits we
know, such as the apple and the pear, it is covered with stiff hooks.
By these hooks it fastened itself so firmly to my clothes, that it was
difficult to pull it off without making a tear.
Why does the burdock put its seeds into such a prickly case?
Please stop reading for a moment and try to answer this question.
Cudgel well your brains for the use of such a prickly seed case as
that of the burdock plant.
 Now I am hoping that one of you children will be able to think out
some such answer as this:—
“Of course, the burdock plant doesn’t want its seeds to fall on the
piece of ground that has been used up already by other burdocks,
any more than the partridge vine wishes to drop its seeds in the
same little hollow where other partridge vines have eaten all the
good food. As this burdock plant cannot make its seed case so bright
and pretty, and good to eat, that the birds will carry it off, it must
manage in some other way to send its seeds on their travels. And
this is what it does: it covers the seed case with little hooks. When
the seeds inside are quite ripe, this case breaks off very easily. So
when the children come hunting berries, it hooks itself to their
clothes, or else it catches in the hair of their dogs, or takes hold of
the wool of grazing sheep, and gets carried quite a way before it is
picked or rubbed off. When that happens, it is far enough from its old
home to set up for itself.”
I should indeed be pleased if one of you children could give me
some such answer as that.
So you see this prickly seed case does just as much for its little
charges as the juicy apple and velvety peach do for theirs.
And the same thing is true of all those other hooked, or barbed, or
prickly little objects that I picked off my clothes the other day, and
that cling to you when you take a walk in the fall woods.
They are all fruits. They are the ripe seed cases of the different
plants.
But they are dull-looking, and often quite vexing, instead of being
pleasant to the sight and taste and touch.
This makes no difference, however, in their having things pretty
much their own way. We do not in the least want to carry abroad
these little torments, scattering far and wide their seeds, so that
another year there will be more burrs and barbs and bristles than
ever, to tear our clothes and worry our dogs; but they force us to do
them this service, whether we will or no, and never stop to say “By
your leave.”
 At every turn they are waiting for us. Where we climb the fence,
and cross the fields, and break through the woods, we can almost
fancy that we hear them whispering together, “Here they come! Now
is our chance!”
They remind us of those lazy tramps that lie along the railway,
getting on the trucks of passing trains, and stealing rides across the
country.
These ugly hooked fruits have one great advantage over the pretty
ones that are good to eat. They do not have to wait our pleasure. But
when we are most busy and hurried, without a moment to loiter in
the apple orchard or among the berry bushes, then, quite as well as,
if not better than, during our leisure moments, they lay hold upon us
with their tiny claws, and cling closely till we set to work to get rid of
them. When we pick them off and fling them to the ground, we are
doing just what they most wish.

Fig.
45

In this picture (Fig. 45) you see the seed case of the tick trefoil.
This plant belongs to the Pea family; and its fruit is really a pod,
something like that of the garden pea. But when this pod of the tick
trefoil is ripe, it splits into five little pieces. Each piece is a separate
seed case. This is covered with hooked hairs, by means of which it
fastens itself to our clothing and to the hair of animals, just as the
burr of the burdock did. These little seed cases go by the name of
“ticks.”
 Fig. 46

Here is the fruit of the stick-tight (Fig. 46). You see its two teeth
that are so well fitted to weave themselves into either cloth or hair.
Fig. 47 shows you a strange and terrible fruit of this same class. It
grows on an African plant, and may fasten itself so firmly into the hair
of animals, that the attempt to get it out is almost hopeless.
Sometimes an unfortunate lion will kill himself in his efforts to wrench
this tormenting seed case from his skin. In his struggles he gets it
into his mouth, and so dies.

Fig. 47

I am glad to say we have nothing so terrifying as this among our

hooked fruits.
Even if at times you are tempted to lose your patience with such
impertinent little tramps as they are, I think you can hardly help
admiring the clever way in which they manage to get a free ride.
 SEED SAILBOATS

O N your way to school these fall days, often you notice certain
white, silky things floating lazily through the air. Sometimes you
catch one of these little objects, and blow it away again with a
message to a friend. Or perhaps you wish upon it. At least, this is
what I did as a child. Life in those days was full of these mysterious
“wishes.” A white horse, a hay cart, the first star, a wandering thistle
down,—each promised the possible granting of one’s most secret
wish.
That the thistle down comes from the thistle plant, you know. But
not all the silky things that look like fairy sailboats are thistle down,
for many plants beside the thistle let loose these tiny air ships.
 Have you ever wondered where they come from, what they are
doing? Or do they seem to you so lazy, so drifting, so aimless, that
you doubt if they are going anywhere in particular, or have really
anything to do?
But by this time you have learned that plants have better reasons
for their actions than you had dreamed before you began to pay
them some attention. You have discovered that they dress their
flowers in gay colors so that the bees may be tempted to visit them
and powder them with golden dust. You have learned that they make
their fruits juicy and delicious so that boys and girls and birds may be
persuaded to carry off their seeds; and the better you know them,
the more certain you feel that they manage their affairs with much
common sense, that they are not likely to take time and trouble for
nothing.

Fig. 48

So let us look closely at some of these air ships, and try to guess
their errand.
I hope that some time ago you were told to get together as many
different kinds as you could find, and to bring them here this
morning.
 Fig. 49

In this picture you see some of the air ships of the milkweed (Fig.
49).
The lower part of Fig. 48 is a seedbox of the milkweed. To this are
fastened the silky threads which make the sail that carries the seed
through the air with the least wind, just as the canvas sail carries the
boat across the water.
Can you think of some other plants that send abroad seed
sailboats?
Perhaps some of you remember the beautiful pink or purple
flowers which grew last summer in tall spikes along the road and up
the mountain side. These were borne upon a plant called sometimes
fireweed and again willow herb (Fig. 50). The first name was given to
it because it grows freely in places that have been laid waste by fire.
The latter one it owes to its leaves, which look somewhat like those
of the willow.
 Fig. 50

Fig. 51

By the end of August most of these beautiful blossoms had

disappeared, leaving in their place the fruit. This fruit of the fireweed
or willow herb is a long pod such as you see in the picture (Fig. 51).
This pod is packed full of seeds, to each one of which is fastened a
silky sail. Finally all these pods split open, letting out their little air
ships (Fig. 52), and giving a beautiful, feathery look to the great
patches in which they are found.

Fig. 52
 Fig. 53

Fig. 54

Another plant which launches air ships is the clematis. In August

its pretty white blossoms clamber over the stone wall, and twist
about the bushes and trees, making the lanes very lovely. In the fall
this climber is almost as pretty as in summer, for its fruit clusters
(Fig. 53) are made of such long-tailed seeds as you see in Fig. 54.
When these open, and float away with the first light wind, you can
see how well their little sails are fitted to catch the breeze.

Fig. 55

Fig. 56

In October and November nearly every roadside is lined with

clusters such as you see in the next picture, except that the picture
cannot give their soft, velvety look. These are the fruit clusters of the
golden-rod (Fig. 55), made up of quantities of silky-tailed seeds such
as you see above (Fig. 56).
And this is the fruit cluster of the aster (Fig. 57). Each little puffball
is composed of many aster seeds (Fig. 58).

Fig. 57

Fig. 58

The pasture thistle is almost as beautiful in fruit as in flower. It

swells up into a great silvery cushion, which finally vanishes in a
cloud of floating thistle down.
And here is the fruit cluster of the dandelion (Fig. 59), and also a
single seed sailboat (Fig. 60).
Hundreds of other plants attach these little sails to their seeds.
You can hardly walk a step in the fall along the country roads without
meeting these masses of feathery fruit made up of just such seeds.
So now we come back to our questions, “Where are they going?
What are they doing?”
 Fig. 59

Fig. 60

And as you have learned why the apple tree and the partridge vine
pack their seeds in pretty cases, and why the burdock and the stick-
tight cover theirs with hooks and bristles, you ought to answer these
questions very easily. You found that those plants wished to send
their little seeds abroad, so that they might get a better foothold in
some piece of earth that was not used already by plants hungry for
the very food that they most needed.
This is just what the thistle and milkweed and dandelion and aster
want for their seeds; and this is why they fasten them to little sails,
and send them far away on a voyage of discovery.
 WINGED SEEDS

Fig. 61

M ANY of the trees also send their seeds on air voyages, in the
hope of finding some piece of land that will give them a chance
to grow into new, strong trees.
The seeds of the willow (Fig. 62) have silky white sails such as we
have found already in the plants of the milkweed and willow herb;
and the cottonwood tree is so called because its tufted seeds remind
one of the famous cotton seeds from which we get our cotton thread
(Fig. 63).

Fig. 62

There are other trees which use wings instead of sails when they
send their seeds flying through the air.
 Fig. 63

Here you have the winged fruits of the maple (Fig. 64). In summer
you see these winged fruits hanging in clusters from the trees; and
later in the year they are thickly scattered along the village street and
in the city squares.

Fig. 64

You can understand how easily the maple seeds inside these
cases would be carried upon the breeze by their wings.
Each seed of the elm tree is winged nearly all the way round. The
picture (Fig. 65) shows you a cluster of these as they look upon the
tree.
 Fig. 65

Fig. 66

Here is a bunch of the long-winged seeds of the ash (Fig. 66).

Next comes a fruit cluster from the hop hornbeam (Fig. 67), and
above is a single fruit (Fig. 68).