CHAPTER 167: ACT 2

Harriet had just taken one more step when she heard footsteps—a light shuffle, almost hesitant, echoing softly against the dry earth. Her heart leapt with a mix of hope and nervousness. She lifted her gaze quickly, tension coiled in her shoulders, and froze.

A figure emerged from the edge of the modest home, stepping into the sunlight that filtered down in gold-tinted beams through the trees. It was Mari, wearing a smile so radiant and full of ease that it chased away the shadows clinging to Harriet’s chest. Relief struck Harriet like a sudden exhale of air she’d been holding in far too long. Her heart slowed.

Beyond relieved, she let her stiff shoulders drop. The worry that had weighed heavy on her spine seemed to lift and scatter like leaves in the wind.

Harriet breathed out a long, deep sigh, one hand resting over her chest. Her fingers trembled slightly from the release of tension.

"For a second I thought something was wrong!" she sighed, voice still laced with leftover nerves. Her eyes darted around the small clearing with a curious glint, scanning for signs of others—anyone else who might emerge next. She kept speaking, a hopeful lilt rising in her tone.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, brows creasing slightly. Her voice, though calmer, still carried an anxious edge, one that hadn’t fully been soothed by the sight of her sister alone.

But before another heartbeat could pass, the answer came—not in words, but in motion.

First Maria stepped out, small feet pounding excitedly on the ground as she broke into a full sprint. Her arms opened wide with the unfiltered joy of a child reunited with someone they loved. She hurled herself into Harriet’s arms with such fierce affection that it startled a laugh from Harriet’s lips.

Harriet bent to receive the impact, arms instinctively wrapping around the little girl, holding her tightly as though she’d never let go again. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. The warmth of Maria’s small body against her chest brought a new wave of peace.

Then Danny came barrelling after his sister, his face alight with equal excitement. His small legs churned with determination as he ran toward her, then wrapped his arms around her legs, clinging tight like an anchor.

Harriet gasped softly, utterly overwhelmed.

She crouched instantly, arms wrapping around both children. Her eyes began to sting with tears she didn’t expect. Her fingers trembled as she smoothed back Maria’s curls and kissed the crown of Danny’s head. Their little hands held onto her with a trust and innocence that cut straight to the heart.

"I missed you both so much," she whispered, voice thick with emotion.

As the children laughed softly and embraced her tighter, she didn’t notice the way Danny’s eyes briefly flickered—darkening ever so slightly—as if the illusion slipped just a fraction. A flicker of something unnatural passed over his features, gone so quickly it was hard to say if it had even been real. But luck—or perhaps careful timing—was on his side. Harriet had her face buried in Maria’s shoulder at that exact moment, eyes closed.

When she finally pulled back to look at them, the disguise was already fixed. Danny grinned innocently, blinking up at her as though nothing had changed.

Harriet wiped at her eyes quickly, clearing her throat.

"You’ve both grown," she said softly, as if afraid saying it aloud would break the fragile moment. "And where are Mother and Father?" she added, standing slowly as her eyes searched the space behind them, fully expecting to see familiar silhouettes following behind.

Maria didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head, keeping her voice carefully casual.

"They stepped out," she said. "They’ll be back soon."

"Very soon," Danny echoed, his tone light, rehearsed.

Harriet nodded slowly, visibly relaxing once again. Her gaze lingered on the path behind them for a moment longer before she let it go, satisfied by the answer, unaware of what truly stirred just beyond her view.

Unknown to her, outside the modest home, a different storm brewed.

The frown on King Jared’s face deepened. He stood rigid beside the still carriage, his eyes narrowing at the seemingly quiet village ahead. Something gnawed at the edge of his senses, a tension he couldn’t name. His eyes scanned the still homes and empty street corners, ears straining for a sound out of place.

He moved slowly, deliberately, taking a step away from the carriage. His voice was low, sharp as a knife’s edge as he turned to the driver.

"Stay close. Keep an eye out," Jared ordered.

The driver, a stout man with sun-darkened skin and calloused hands, gave a solemn nod. He had been paid more than enough to prioritize the king’s orders above all else. In that moment, Jared was his king—Zyren or not. The idea of loyalty to the vampire lord had never even entered his mind. Money and fear shaped his loyalties well enough.

Jared walked forward, boots crunching lightly against the dirt path as he crossed into the heart of the village. His eyes flicked from shuttered windows to open doors, noting the absence of movement, the strange quiet that felt manufactured. This village—too still, too neat—set his nerves on edge.

But unknown to Jared, at that very moment in another part of the city, a different meeting had just come to a close. Shadows pulled back as figures moved—figures bearing faces that did not belong to them.

Two of Harriet’s parents stood at the center of the gathering, but they were no longer who they once were.

"It’s done then! We’ll kill her and replace her!" The Zygon wearing Harriet’s mother’s face spoke sharply, her eyes dark and glinting.

The one wearing the pale mask of her sickly father’s form added grimly, "...with Clay’s actions we need someone else in the castle!" His voice, though sickly in tone, carried weight. The others in the room—cloaked and shifting subtly in form—nodded in silent agreement.

No more words were needed.

They moved like smoke, dispersing into alleys, rooftops, and shadows with frightening speed. Their forms stretched, twisted slightly, unnatural and silent.

As Jared’s boots carried him deeper into the stillness of the village, his senses heightened. The hairs on the back of his neck stood upright. Something was wrong. He just couldn’t name it yet.

Meanwhile, in the alley closest to the carriage, two figures had already spotted the human driver left behind.

They moved swiftly. In a flash, they were upon him—silent, brutal, efficient. The man barely had a moment to turn his head before his throat was torn out, blood spurting in a sudden, grotesque arc. There was no scream. Only the wet sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking.

The scene was gory and gruesome as the slowly ripped him into shreds even as he still had breath in his body something they didn’t seem to care about.

One of them dragged the body behind a wooden cart, limbs dangling loosely, lifeless.

Three others emerged seconds later. One began to vigorously clean away all evidence. The supplies in his hand made it clear that the plan was obvious and it had been prepared.

Another scooping up spilled blood with inhuman speed, and the last knelt before the corpse.

Without hesitation, the Zygon peeled open the top of the skull and began devouring the brain matter, mouth expanding grotesquely to accommodate the task. As flesh was consumed, the Zygon’s form began to shift, limbs snapping into new proportions. Skin morphed, hair color changed, clothing restructured.

It was all mechanically but no one could swear that they couldn’t see the joy glistening in the Zygon’s face as he ate up the brain in front of him.

He had changed to a villager too after the village massacre but his character was deemed non-important enough for him to no longer exist.

Moments later, the driver’s twin rose from the bloodied ground, wiping his mouth clean and straightening his coat.

"Do we still need to kill her?" one asked, breathless from the transformation.

Another turned to look at the road leading toward the house. The Zygons wearing Harriet’s parents’ faces had returned, walking with perfect mimicry—pace, posture, even voice rehearsed.

"Only if we get a chance to kill her without King Jared being aware," came the cold reply and the other nodded.

The fear of King Jared wasn’t little! They might be more but it wasn’t as if any of them wanted to be the first to lay down their lives for King Jared to slash something he would do if their identities were found out.

The others nodded silently, then melted into place like actors returning to their cue.

Back at the house, Harriet was seated between Maria and Danny, unaware of the shifting tides outside. She smiled gently as she tucked a strand of Maria’s hair behind her ear. She glanced again toward the door, hoping to catch the shadow of her parents returning.

Little did she know—they already had.