The Willing by Aila Cline

We had all been taught this since becoming the Children of
Dacre. It’s like we’re superheroes or something. It’s kind of cool.
“OK, Rai, but next week when I’m wasting away, I want you to
remember my brilliant idea.”
    She snorted at the idea, still serious
in her demeanor with that underlay of sarcasm. “You’re not taking
anything to go. Eat it and let’s go.”
    “Bah. OK, fine.”
    And that’s when it happened. I leaned
over her to cool the burning in my throat, and suddenly she said it
again.
    “Shasta?”
    I jumped back as if she were the one
who had bitten me.
    “Gah, Rachel, I can’t eat something
that knows my name!”
    Rachel rolled her eyes. “Leave it then.
We’ll hunt tomorrow night.”
    I looked at her. The male leader of her
pack had shot her. Stupid, heathen Lycanti. My bite marks were
still all over her. Had she not been weak from blood loss, she may
have fought off that bastard. It was my fault she was laying like
this in the damp leaves.
    “I can’t leave her.”
    Rachel gazed at me in that deep,
knowing way she has. It can mean everything, or it can mean
nothing. That’s Rachel for you. “Fine. I’m not helping you carry it
though. Wake it up. It’s a long walk back to the house.”

    When she awoke, it was in the company
of three vampires: me, Rachel, and our house mate Delilah. She
didn’t scream or even flinch. She did stare with those big sparkly
green eyes though, which is pretty rude if you ask me, no matter
how pretty your eyes are.
    Rachel took the initiative as soon as
her eyes opened. “How do you feel?”
    She answered a little groggily. “Like a
freight train hit me, then backed up over me to finish the
job.”
    No one laughed at her joke, but it made
me want to smile a little. Vampires, for some reason, tend to be a
serious lot. Maybe it’s the being dead part. It’s pretty hard to
not take that seriously.
    The Lycanti girl didn’t mind the
awkward silence though. “You’re vampires, aren’t you?”
    Delilah practically hissed at her.
“Undead, you idiot. The Children of Dacre.”
    The Lycanti glared at her coldly. “What
is it with you people and fancy labels? Werewolves who hate to be
called werewolves. Vampires who hate to be called vampires. I don’t
get it.”
    I still didn’t say anything. She didn’t
look at me with any level of familiarity, so I didn’t feel inclined
to pretend that we were friends or acquaintances or even meal
buddies.
    Rachel, as always, answered calmly.
“Humans are basically apes that walk upright. Did you ever in your
life want to be called an ape?”
    The girl’s green eyes widened. “But
there’s nothing wrong with—“
    “The terms are derogatory,” Rachel cut
in. “Society has made them superficial. We are not superficial, so
we disown their titles of us.”
    “A little bit of Dracula pride, you
know,” I finally said.
    The girl just looked at me like I had a
few bolts loose. I don’t, I really don’t. I just wish people didn’t
take all of this name crap so seriously. One of the newest Children
had his head bitten off—literally—by a few older Children a few
weeks ago for referring to them as the V-word. I try to keep all my
body parts attached at all times.
    Our guest continued to look straight at
me. “Do you know a woman named Shasta?”
    “We don’t give out rosters,” Rachel
answered immediately, saving me from any information I didn’t want
to reveal. “It’s not like we routinely have werewolves over
dinner—at least, not at home any way.”
    I waited for the Lycanti’s violent
reaction to the term ‘werewolf,’ but there was none. Obviously she
really didn’t see the difference in any of the names. I kind of
liked her already.
    The girl made to stand, but Rachel
pushed her back down. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. I wouldn’t stand
up if I were you.”
    “Good plan,” she agreed. “Look, I’m not
trying to be rude, but there’s a few people I really need to kill,
so I can’t