Free The Dead of Sanguine Night by Travis Simmons Page A

she needed…a side street.
    A couple paces down the road, Amaranth found what she was looking for.
    Boulva Street was just the shadowed side street she needed. There were few lights, and plenty of places to hide. She tried not to think that some of the beasts in the night could see better in the dark than in the light. Instead, she made her way down the street, avoiding puddles of light from the few lampposts that were actually lit. She hoped there was a corner of an overgrown yard she could hide in until the sun ruled Danthea.
    The cobbles of Boulva Street were cracked with the occasional missing stone , making walking dangerous if she wasn’t paying attention to where she placed her feet. The houses slanted toward one another on rotting foundations, like drunken neighbors seeking support. The yards were small and overgrown. For that, she was thankful.
    In the ghetto, she thought, where people go missing and wind up —
    “Are you lost?” a voice asked behind her.
    Amaranth jumped, barely keeping the scream behind her teeth from bursting out and shattering the stillness of the night.
    Amaranth spun around to see the woman behind her. She was a short woman, clad in a long white dressing gown as if she’d been readying herself for bed. Her hair was blond and shined in the light of the blood moon. She was a pretty woman with a small nose and full lips the color of blood. Her eyes were ghostly blue.
    “Are you lost?” the woman asked again, and smiled.
    Amaranth nodded her head fervently. “Yes,” she whispered.
    “Come with me,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “You can stay the night with me.”
    “How do I know you’re not a ghoul or some other night terror?” Amaranth asked.
    “How do I know you’re not the same?” the woman asked.
    Amaranth didn’t have a good answer.
    “My name is Lauren,” the woman told her. “What’s yours’?”
    “Amaranth,” she said, slipping her hand into Lauren’s delicate grasp. Her hand was warm and welcoming. Amaranth was at once at ease.
    “Well, Amaranth, come and sup with my family and me. We were just getting ready to eat,” Lauren said, turning back to the main street.
    “It’s awful late to eat,” Amaranth said, at peace and emboldened to talk now that she was with Lauren. If this woman ventured out at night to save her, she must not fear the evil of Danthea. If she didn’t fear the evil, she must have some kind of control over it, or at least some way to ward it off.
    “What can I say? We eat late,” Lauren said. She led Amaranth back down Boulva Street and around the corner to the house where Amaranth had hidden only moments before.
    Lauren opened the door onto an inviting living room. Candles illuminated the inside. She rushed Amaranth inside. She took her cloak and hung it on a peg beside the door. A fireplace snapped and popped cheerily from the other side of the living space, and the security and safety it offered filled her with happiness.
    A couch sat against the same wall as the door, and chairs filled the side walls. To the right of the fireplace was a doorway that led deeper into the well-lit house. To the left of the fireplace stairs ascended to the second floor.
    “I would have knocked,” Amaranth said, turning to Lauren. “But I didn’t think anyone would have let a stranger in at night.”
    “Most wouldn’t have, but my mother has the sense to know when a person is evil and when they aren’t. She saw terror in you, and sent me after you.”
    “You’re brave to face the night alone,” Amaranth said.
    Lauren smiled. “Follow me,” she said, motioning to the doorway to the right of the fireplace. “We’re just about to eat, and you are welcome to join us.”
    Amaranth followed Lauren deeper into the house. The doorway opened up onto a small kitchen with tile counters on the left and right walls. Over the table hung a silver chandelier lit with multiple white candles. The rectangular table took up half the kitchen and sat