The Divergence

The sun had already climbed into the sky by the time Lavinia decided she wasn’t going to sleep.

Heavy curtains covered the windows of the military safehouse, keeping every trace of direct sunlight safely outside. 

The room itself was dim except for the television and a lamp in the corner, neither of which Lavinia particularly needed but which had been left on anyway.

She lay lengthwise across the couch with one foot dangling over the edge, her long golden hair spilling across the cushions beneath her. 

One hand rested against her stomach while the other loosely held the remote, occasionally changing the channel whenever whatever she was watching became too boring.

Which happened often.

Lavinia clicked through three channels before returning to the first one and sighed.

The safehouse was quieter today.

Not silent, certainly. Lavinia could hear the occasional movement elsewhere in the building, and if she focused, identifying which vampire was responsible usually wasn’t particularly difficult. 

The rhythms of their footsteps had become familiar surprisingly quickly.

But one was missing.

Gwendolyn had left to spend the day with her mother shortly after they’d returned from the forest.

Lavinia shifted on the couch.

She missed her.

It felt slightly ridiculous considering Gwendolyn hadn’t even been gone that long, but acknowledging that fact did nothing to change the feeling. 

Lavinia rolled onto her side and pulled one of the cushions closer, resting her cheek against it.

She was becoming clingy.

That was the only explanation.

Before the First Divergence, she wouldn’t have thought twice about someone she cared about leaving for a day. 

People had lives. They went places, did things, spent time apart, and eventually saw each other again.

Now the absence felt strangely noticeable.

Vampires seemed naturally inclined to remain around one another. 

Being close felt comfortable in a way Lavinia couldn’t entirely describe, and the longer she’d spent with the others, the more normal their constant presence had become.

Someone sitting beside her.

Someone stealing her snacks.

Someone touching her hair.

Someone deciding her lap belonged to them.

Someone appearing in her room without permission and then acting offended when she questioned why they were there.

Lavinia smiled faintly into the cushion.

Gwendolyn was particularly guilty of that last one.

As natural as being around other vampires felt, their sudden absence produced almost the opposite sensation. Lavinia knew exactly where Gwendolyn was. 

She knew Gwendolyn was safe, knew she was spending time with her mother, and knew she’d return.

Still, the safehouse felt slightly emptier without her.

Lavinia’s thoughts wandered somewhere she immediately wished they hadn’t.

What if Gwendolyn simply never returned?

Her body tensed before the thought had even fully formed, fingers tightening around the cushion beneath her cheek.

No.

She didn’t like that.

She didn’t like imagining Gwendolyn dying, and the moment her mind expanded the possibility to any of the others, something instinctive twisted sharply inside her.

Valerie.

Rosaline.

Adelaide.

Celestine.

Cordelia.

Evelyn.

Evangeline.

Violetta.

The idea of any of them simply ceasing to exist felt so profoundly wrong that Lavinia’s body reacted as though there were an immediate threat nearby. 

Her shoulders tightened, her senses sharpened, and for one irrational moment she wanted to find whatever hypothetical thing had caused their equally hypothetical deaths and tear it apart.

Lavinia frowned and forced her fingers to relax.

”That’s unpleasant,” Lavinia muttered to herself.

Her own voice sounded louder than expected in the quiet room.

Vampires were extraordinarily difficult to kill. Lavinia knew that. 

They’d spent part of the night throwing each other through trees, gouging one another open, breaking necks, and hitting each other hard enough that a human wouldn’t have survived the first few seconds.

Everyone had been fine afterward.

Even Evangeline tearing her throat open had been more irritating than frightening.

The sun was different.

Enough destruction could leave one of them unable to move for a dangerous amount of time too, and if sunrise arrived while they were helpless somewhere exposed—

Lavinia immediately stopped herself again.

”No,” Lavinia firmly told herself before grabbing the remote and increasing the television volume.

A woman on-screen was discussing the expansion of several emergency transportation routes around the newly appeared landscapes from the Second Divergence.

Much better.

Roads.

Lavinia could think about roads.

The sound of approaching footsteps reached her from the hallway.

Her pointed ears twitched.

Lavinia recognized the rhythm almost immediately and made no effort to move when the door opened.

Evangeline stepped inside with her phone in one hand and an enormous smile on her face.

Lavinia looked at her.

Evangeline quickly moved the phone behind her back.

Too late.

Her bright red hair swayed behind her as she almost skipped across the room before stopping directly in front of the couch. ”Guess what I want to show you.”

Lavinia’s empty red eyes rolled upward as she shifted onto her back. ”Evangeline, I watched you walk through the door holding your phone.”

Evangeline’s smile didn’t falter. ”That doesn’t tell you what’s on the phone.”

”It significantly narrows the possibilities.”

”Guess.”

”Something online,” Lavinia answered.

Evangeline narrowed her eyes. ”More specific.”

”A video.”

”No.”

”A picture.”

”Technically.”

”A post.”

Evangeline considered that for a second. ”Also technically.”

Lavinia settled more comfortably against the couch. ”Then I win.”

”You didn’t guess what it was about.”

”You never established the rules.”

Evangeline stared down at her for several seconds.

Then she pushed Lavinia flat against the couch.

Lavinia made a surprised sound as Evangeline climbed over her and settled astride her waist, the scent of black cherries and wine mixing with Lavinia’s berries and pine.

”You’re cheating,” Evangeline accused as she leaned over her.

”How am I cheating? You invented a guessing game and didn’t tell me the rules!”

”Because you were supposed to cooperate.”

”That’s not how guessing works.”

Evangeline ignored the objection and brought the phone out from behind her back. ”Online is buzzing!”

The screen was promptly shoved several inches from Lavinia’s face.

Lavinia blinked and leaned her head backward. ”I can’t see anything when it’s almost touching my eyelashes.”

”It’s not touching them.”

”It nearly is.”

Evangeline reluctantly moved the phone farther away. ”Look!”

Lavinia focused on the screen.

A beautiful young woman stood in front of a mirror wearing an ornate black dress. 

Pointed prosthetic ears emerged through carefully styled dark hair, while red contacts had been used to imitate a vampire’s empty red eyes.

They weren’t particularly accurate.

The contacts still left a visible pupil, and the shade was slightly too bright, but the intention was obvious.

Lavinia smiled. ”She’s very pretty.”

”I know!” Evangeline scrolled through several photographs attached to the post. ”She cosplayed as a vampire.”

”I can see that.”

”No, look at everything else.” Evangeline flicked down to the reactions beneath the post before turning the phone toward Lavinia again. ”People really aren’t as afraid of us after the interview. At least not everyone I’m seeing online.”

Lavinia began reading through the comments.

Evangeline continued excitedly, ”There were people talking about our interview all night. There are drawings, clips, people arguing over which one of us they liked most, and now people are dressing like us.”

Lavinia smiled faintly.

That was certainly different from some of what they’d encountered after the First Divergence.

”One interview probably didn’t change everyone’s minds, but if it helped some people, that’s good.” Lavinia reached up and moved a strand of Evangeline’s red hair away from her face.

”It definitely helped.” Evangeline turned the screen toward herself and scrolled again before abruptly laughing. ”Someone made an entire compilation of Valerie eating snacks.”

Lavinia laughed. ”Already?”

”It has an absurd number of views.”

”Don’t show Valerie.”

”I’m absolutely showing Valerie.”

”Then we’re never hearing the end of it.”

Evangeline grinned. ”Exactly.”

Lavinia watched her for another moment.

Evangeline was still straddling her, leaning comfortably over her with one hand resting beside Lavinia’s head as she continued scrolling through the phone.

Lavinia suddenly became acutely aware of their position.

She blinked.

Then she looked at Evangeline again.

”You know, I used to be a man.”

Evangeline stopped scrolling.

Her empty red eyes slowly moved from the phone to Lavinia’s face.

”I know.”

Lavinia gestured vaguely between them. ”Does that ever occur to you?”

Evangeline stared at her for a second before rolling her eyes. ”I don’t care.”

”You don’t?”

”No.” Evangeline flipped some of her bright red hair dismissively over one shoulder. ”You aren’t a man now.”

Lavinia blinked.

Evangeline leaned closer, studying her as though the answer should have been obvious. ”You’re Lavinia. You’re a vampire. You’re a woman, you’re beautiful, you’re tiny, and you have enough golden hair for three people. Why would I care what you used to be?”

”I’m not tiny.”

”That’s the part you objected to?”

”I’m short. There’s a difference.”

Evangeline giggled. ”You’re tiny.”

”I hate you.”

”No, you don’t.”

Lavinia narrowed her eyes before looking away. ”Unfortunately.”

Evangeline’s smile widened.

Lavinia couldn’t really argue with the rest of what she’d said.

She remembered being male perfectly well. She remembered what she’d looked like, how she’d sounded, the shape of her old body, and the life she’d lived before the First Divergence transformed her into what she was now.

Yet moments like this barely registered anymore.

Another beautiful woman was casually straddling her on a couch, and Lavinia’s first thought had been irritation over a guessing game rather than anything about how absurd this situation would’ve seemed to her former self.

She didn’t particularly care either.

Apparently she’d adapted rather thoroughly.

Lavinia hummed softly before pushing herself upright.

The motion brought her almost directly face-to-face with Evangeline.

Evangeline blinked once.

Lavinia blinked back.

Then Evangeline giggled and slid from Lavinia’s lap before anything more could be made of it. 

She dropped into the nearby chair, crossing one leg over the other as she returned her attention to her phone.

Lavinia settled back against the couch.

The television continued quietly in the background while Evangeline scrolled.

”Some people are still very angry,” Evangeline eventually commented, her earlier excitement dimming slightly.

Lavinia glanced over. ”About the cosplay?”

”Mhm.” Evangeline read through several comments before turning the screen slightly so Lavinia could see.

Some praised the woman.

Others asked where she’d gotten the dress or how she’d made the ears. Several complained that dressing as a vampire so soon after the Divergences was tasteless.

Then there were the harsher comments.

Traitor.

Vampire sympathizer.

Humanity first.

One particularly dramatic commenter accused the woman of betraying her entire species for attention.

Evangeline stared at that one for a moment before asking, ”What does betraying humanity even mean?”

Lavinia considered it before shrugging. ”Whatever the person saying it wants it to mean. People call things betrayal whenever they don’t fit what they think someone should do. Apparently wearing fake ears and a dress is enough for this person.”

Evangeline hummed curiously and continued scrolling.

A few seconds passed before she abruptly locked her phone.

Lavinia noticed immediately.

”What?”

Evangeline leaned forward in her chair and stared at her.

Lavinia stared back.

Then Evangeline stood, crossed the short distance between them, and took Lavinia’s face between both hands.

Lavinia’s cheeks compressed slightly.

”Evangeline.”

”Did you like that human you saved?” Evangeline asked.

Lavinia blinked. ”What?”

”Rebecca.”

”I know which human you’re talking about.”

”Then answer.”

Lavinia tilted her head as much as Evangeline’s hands allowed, faint puzzlement appearing in her empty red eyes. ”Where did this come from?”

Evangeline narrowed hers slightly. ”She asked for your number.”

”Yes.”

”She kept looking at you.”

”She nearly died and I saved her.”

”She was looking at you before we left too.”

Lavinia stared at her.

Evangeline stared back.

Then Evangeline released her face and sat beside her instead. ”Why didn’t you turn her into a Thrall directly? Judging from all those looks she was giving you, Rebecca probably would’ve been fine with it.”

Lavinia smiled slightly and shook her head. ”Even if she would’ve agreed, why would I?”

Evangeline waited for her to continue.

”We’ve barely settled in ourselves.” Lavinia gestured vaguely around the safehouse. ”People are still trying to figure out what vampires are, whether they’re afraid of us, whether they can live beside us, whether we’re going to eat them, apparently whether dressing like us constitutes treason...”

Evangeline snorted.

”And then we introduce Thralls?” Lavinia continued. ”Where would they fit? Humans barely know how to deal with vampires and werewolves. Adding another element when we’re barely managing ourselves doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Evangeline nodded. ”It would make everything more complicated.”

”Exactly.”

Lavinia tapped one finger lightly against her lip.

Thralls themselves weren’t particularly mysterious to either of them.

The knowledge was simply there.

Much like vampires knew to avoid sunlight or found certain abilities natural once they discovered them, there were aspects of their existence they didn’t need someone else to explain.

Thralls were one of those things.

”They aren’t bad, despite the name,” Lavinia said thoughtfully. ”Calling someone a Thrall makes it sound like we’re chaining them to a wall somewhere.”

Evangeline smiled. ”The name definitely could’ve been better.”

”Much better. They’re not slaves or servants. They’re more like...” Lavinia tilted her head one way and then the other while searching for the right description. ”Companions, but not vampires? Something between humans and us.”

Evangeline nodded. ”Without being quite either.”

”Right. They stop aging like we do, but everything else is weaker. Strength, speed, regeneration...” Lavinia lifted one hand and flexed her fingers. ”They’re all there, just nowhere near what a vampire has.”

”And they can go outside during the day,” Evangeline added.

Lavinia gave her a mildly aggrieved look. ”They get the better sunlight deal.”

Evangeline laughed. ”You sound jealous.”

”I am jealous. They get eternal youth and sunlight.”

”They don’t get to be vampires.”

Lavinia paused.

Then she nodded approvingly. ”That’s true. I feel better now.”

Evangeline stared at her before laughing again.

Lavinia smiled and continued, ”They still look mostly human too. Softer features, a little more refined, but still human enough that you’d probably never guess what they were just by looking.”

”The eyes especially,” Evangeline added.

”Mhm. Human eyes.” Lavinia touched beneath one of her own empty red eyes. ”Nothing like ours.”

Thralls were also not restricted to a single gender. A man who became a Thrall remained a man, while a woman remained a woman. 

Whatever mechanism had transformed every vampire into a woman simply wouldn’t apply to them.

Evangeline stared at Lavinia for several seconds.

Lavinia gradually became suspicious.

”What?”

”Nothing.”

”That’s a lie.”

”I’m just thinking.”

”About?”

Evangeline’s lips curved upward. ”Rebecca.”

Lavinia sighed. ”We’re back to this?”

”You never actually answered.”

”I did.”

”You explained why you didn’t make her a Thrall.”

”That was one of the questions!”

”The original question was whether you liked her.”

Lavinia stared at Evangeline for several seconds before shaking her head. ”No. I don’t like Rebecca like that.”

Evangeline hummed.

”Don’t hum at me.”

”I’m thinking.”

”Think less suspiciously.”

Evangeline’s smile widened.

Lavinia continued before she could invent another question. ”Rebecca is cute. I’ll admit that. She seems nice from what little I know about her, and I don’t mind talking to her. That’s it.”

”So you admit she’s cute.”

”I already admitted she was cute!”

”Interesting.”

”There’s nothing interesting about it.”

Evangeline unlocked her phone again. ”I didn’t say there was.”

”You implied it.”

”I did no such thing.”

”You absolutely did.”

Evangeline returned to scrolling with an expression of complete innocence.

Lavinia stared at her for several seconds before deciding the argument wasn’t worth continuing.

She reached for the remote and increased the television volume slightly.

Another report had started, this one showing aerial footage of one of the enormous landscapes created by the Second Divergence. 

Researchers and government teams were apparently still trying to determine exactly how far some of the new regions extended, while transportation departments continued struggling with the sheer amount of new land separating previously neighboring areas.

Lavinia settled deeper into the couch.

Beside her, Evangeline quietly scrolled through her phone, occasionally laughing at something she found.

During the day, there was an enormous amount of time to burn.

Lavinia didn’t particularly mind.