We let her pour her scary, lonely, insane dark into us, and we drank it down with our comforting hands, our bodies that had made us all home, and the craziness of having too many people, too much going on, but what would we give up, who would we give up, and the answer, in the end, was not a single thing. The golden tigers were the power of the sun to bring life to the earth made flesh. They’d been created to chase back the darkness and remind us all that sometimes beauty and life triumph even on the darkest night.
When she realized that she couldn’t win, she tried to pull out of the vampire’s body. She tried to leave him to die alone, but she couldn’t back up, we wouldn’t let her. She wanted to fill us up with her power, and we let her.
Her voice in my head held the first note of panic, as she said, “If you take my power into you, you will be as I am.”
“I’m not like you,” I thought.
“You will be.”
The power felt so good, and yet I knew I was draining the life out of two people, evil vampires, but still people. I prayed, not for help to do it, but that the power wouldn’t corrupt me. That drinking in her darkness wouldn’t make me evil, too.
Using the most evil power I had, I prayed, and I didn’t burst into flames, and no one’s holy object glowed. I ate the darkness that existed before God thought light was a good idea, and he was okay with that; he created the darkness, too. He actually liked both just fine.