There had been love once, she remembered that much. Long before there was any sense of loss, they were a family. A mother and two children first; Ria had dim memories of summers spent in the garden, playing games. Magic had been no part of their lives then, except for the very ordinary kinds which were chicanery and sleight of hand, nothing to do with the unearthly allure of the Nightworld.

 She barely remembered her father. A deep voice, a tall man who'd never minded chasing her and Bliss about. There must have been arguments, for divorce rarely sprang from nothing, but her mother and father kept them behind closed doors. When she was five, he had left and her mother had always been vague about the reasons why. Only the bitterness that had chalked premature shadows onto her face indicated it had been anything other than civil.

 After he'd left, life began to change. Only slowly at first, but later Ria wondered if those were the first seeds of what was to come, springing up like bindweed around them. Her mother began to work longer hours, and so most of the burden of raising her was left to Bliss.

 Lierra Lutinne became a homely shape that waved them out in the morning and stumbled in late at night to mumble endearments and then whisk them into bed. At six, Bliss was told that her sister was her responsibility - so you look after her, don't let the other kids tease her.

And at weekends, it was always Bliss who fumbled together crude meals of sandwiches and junk food while their mother worked. It was Bliss who began to grow old inside her skin, Bliss who was the leader, Bliss who kept away the kids who were looking for someone easy to tease. For the first eleven years of her life, Bliss was her best friend.

 It would be easy to say that the Nightworld changed her, that magic stole away her sister, but in truth, it was just the catalyst. Ria had always had Bliss; but Bliss had no one to turn to. Their mother faded in and out of their life, lavishing presents on them as if that would fill the hole she left in her absence, and Ria depended on Bliss so whole-heartedly that it never occurred to her that Bliss needed someone to depend on.

 Nor did it ever occur to her that Bliss might want more from her life.

 And then one day, Bliss turned around and said, "You'll be okay to walk home alone tonight, right?"

 "Well, yeah...but why?" she'd asked, unable to comprehend at eleven what Bliss could possibly be doing that wouldn't involve her.

 Her sister shrugged. "I have stuff to do."

 "Can I come?"

 "You wouldn't like it," her sister had said nonchalantly, with a confidence that had silenced Ria. After all, who knew her better than Bliss? "I'll be with some kids from school. Don't tell Mom," she added, scowling.

 Feeling a little lost, Ria had walked home that night, head down, kicking at pebbles.

 When Bliss came in several hours later, she was energetic and cheerful, full of chatter about people Ria hardly knew. When she'd plucked up the courage to ask if she could go along next time, Bliss had rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Ria, you can't always tag after me. I don't want to have to spend all my time looking after you."

 But that's your job, Ria had thought, baffled. That's what you do.

 ~*~

 Over the next couple of years, Ria could only watch in bewilderment as Bliss vanished from her life. As childhood chubbiness faded from her sister's face, the striking beauty that had always hovered over her became more and more apparent; the mane of red hair was like a flag, raised as Bliss conquered heart after heart, mapping out new people with the fearless intrepidity of an explorer.

 Ria looked at her own face in the mirror, searching for the shared blood between them. Her own face seemed insipid, a dull version of Bliss's sultry glory, her smile empty of Bliss's promises, her eyes pale and too sad, her hair a nothing colour, she a nothing person.

 Abandoned for the first time, Ria found it a struggle to build relationships. Before, there had always been Bliss to grease the way, dragging Ria into a conversation with determined goodwill, and won over by her sister's charm, strangers had extended the same friendship to her that they did to her older sister.   

 But Bliss had made it clear that she felt her responsibility to Ria was done. Now Ria found herself forced to confront her shyness, to wrestle with it to stammer out small talk. She didn't bother with Bliss's friends; instinct told her that they wouldn't find her interesting enough to keep around.

 And so she began to pick her way through social graces, only then realising just how reliant she had been on Bliss. Awkward, saddened by the sister she only saw from afar, Ria began slowly but surely to forge her own friendships, and but by bit, she felt she was getting the hang of it.

 And then the Nightworld found Bliss.

~*~

 Ria never knew exactly what happened; all she had as evidence was a brief conversation with Bliss.

 She'd been in when Bliss returned - of course. Her sister came in from the night like a whirlwind, bracelets jangling on her wrists, a fevered flush on her face. "Do you believe in magic?" she'd asked.

 "What, like David Copperfield?" Ria frowned down at her history homework. "I guess."

 Bliss had huffed, as it was all too exasperating for words. "No, stupid. Real magic. I mean...like suppose there were witches, real ones, who could control fire, and make love spells, and do voodoo."

 Ria had squinted up at her; her sister was pacing the kitchen, feet thudding on the floor. "But there aren't."

 "How do you know?" challenged Bliss.

 "We'd have heard about them."

 "Not if it was a secret." Bliss stopped and snatched away Ria's homework, throwing it on the side. Her eyes were alight, her face full of animation. "Come on, Ria! Don't be so...so...boring."

 "Why would it be a secret?"

 A roll of her eyes. "Suppose you could make people do anything you wanted. Would you tell them?"

 "I...guess not. But that doesn't mean they're real."

 Bliss had taken a deep breath. And then she had raised her hand, her fingers trembling, pointing at Ria's homework. Ria followed her eyes, absolutely bemused, and starting to wonder if Bliss had been hanging out with the bad kids. The ones who drank and did drugs, or so everyone said.

 And then a purple flame flared up at one corner of her essay.

 Ria had stared, a strange feeling balled up in her stomach. When she looked back at Bliss, sweat was rolling down her temples, her expression one of intense concentration.

 And then the purple fire rippled over the paper, and with a soft hiss, turned orange, charring Ria's work into ash.

 "You burned my homework!" she said, her mind hardly able to take in what had happened.

 Bliss turned an exultant face to her. "Did you see it? Magic, Ria, real magic!"

 "But...but..." Ria stared at the ash smoking gently on the side. "How did you do that?"

 Her sister hugged herself, glee soaked through her voice. "I'm a witch! I'm a real witch. My dad...that must have been why he never stuck around. Mom would have flipped her shit if she found out."

 This was impossible. It was a trick, or something. Bliss had...Bliss had...

 "And you know what?" demanded Bliss, her voice strident in the hum of the house. "It isn't just witches, Ria. There are all these other creatures that exist - vampires and werewolves, all these amazing creatures, and I'm one of them. They're like this secret society."

 A bewildered part of Ria's mind wondered if they had secret handshakes to match. "How did you find out?"

 Bliss's eyes darted away. "I met a guy," she said. "He's one of them. A vampire."

 "Don't they bite people?"
 
 "So?"

 "So he's dangerous." Ria was starting to wonder if what she had seen was some sort of hallucination or a clever ruse. Maybe Bliss had been tricked by this guy who thought he was a vampire. "How do you know he won't hurt you?"

 Bliss's laughter was careless and hearty. "Because I'm one of them. I'm part of the Nightworld, Ria, part of the mythical creatures, the legends, the dark and the magnificent. We don't prey on each other." Her eyes had hardened. "But we prey on you. Humans.  So don't you tell Mom about any of this, you hear?"

 Ria didn't answer. Bliss was scaring her. There was something in her manner she had never seen before, a brittleness, a cruelty that didn't seem to belong to her sister.

 Anger flared up in Bliss's face and before Ria knew what was happening, Bliss had dragged her from the chair and that fire was dancing on her fingers. Mesmerised, Ria stared at the lights thrust under her nose, heat drying her skin. It was real, no doubt about that. Oh god, it was real.

 "Do you hear?" repeated Bliss, her voice slow and cold.

 "Yes," she whispered, and when Bliss released her, she stayed huddled against the wall until her sister had left the room.

 She heard nothing more about the Nightworld, but Bliss sauntered in late every night - though never so late that their mother noticed - to flick fire about the house and make objects move without touching them. Sometimes, Ria heard her whispering words, as if repeating rote lessons.

 Two weeks later, Bliss ran away.

~*~

 She didn't see her sister again until over two years later. In that time, Ria had tried and failed to put the events of that first night from her mind. There had been long months filled with visits from the police, posters plastered onto walls and lampposts, pitying stares and curious questions.

 All of it could be distilled down to one fact: Bliss was gone.

 Surreptitiously, Ria would glance at Bliss's former friends, trying to see any strangeness in their manner. If they knew where her sister had gone, they hid it well.

 In the interim, she settled into her life; another faceless girl in a large school with her own cluster of friends. With them, at least, she could overcome her shyness. And if her mother insisted on collecting her after school every day, none of her friends thought much about it: they had all seen the posters of Bliss, stark photography and block letters.

 Her sister became another absence, one among many. She and mother settled into a comfortable routine, and only once did Ria ever mention the conversation with Bliss, and only then in the most roundabout way.

 "All this new-age rubbish," her mother was saying as she shut the door on an insistent caller. "This one was selling séances. Honestly!"

 She was looking more and more tired these days, Ria thought. Sleepless nights sagged under her eyes, and there seemed to be less weight on her mother's small frame than there once had been. "Don't you believe in any of that stuff?"

 Her mother shot her an amused glance. "Would it matter if I did? I have enough to worry about without adding a bunch of talkative ghosts to it."

 Ria had never thought her mother, practical to the bone, had any such beliefs. "So you think it is real?"

 "Real." Lierra Lutinne sighed. "What a word. Maybe I do believe in ghosts, Ria, but I don't think they have a place in my life. Don't be seduced by magic and mystery. They can't solve anything."

 "How do you know?" she asked, thinking of Bliss calling fire to her.

 Her mother heaved a bag of trash out of the bin. "Magic is a crutch. Suppose it existed. Suppose I could snap my fingers and make this rubbish fly right outside. Would I do it? Sure. And I'd use it to make everything easier. Maybe I'd make some handsome man fall at my feet, and I'd magic up some money to pay for your college education-"

 "I don't even know if I want to go," she protested.

 "Well, I want you to go," her mother said dryly. "Forgive an old lady her dreams. And yes, I'd use magic in every way I could to make life easier. But if I used it that way, it would be selfish. What if that handsome man didn't really love me? What about the person I took my money from? What goes around comes around, that's my experience. If you're prepared to put in the work, you can have the life you want."

 Later, looking back, Ria realised that her mother had been speaking of the Nightworld and that perhaps it hadn't been Bliss's father who left, but Lierra herself.

 "Too many people think there's an easy answer to anything. And they become selfish and shallow and careless. Or at best, they're preoccupied with things that don't really matter. Like silly séances." Her mother dragged the bag outside, and when she came back in, breathing heavily, she gave Ria a stern nod. "Always remember what's real. You can tell, because it won't be easy."

 Wise words, Ria thought, wiser than she had known at the time.

~*~

 Not long after that, her mother sat her down one evening and said quite calmly that she had cancer. It was frightening, how level her voice was when she said that.

 "These things happen," she said, and raised a weak smile. "So I'm going to be off work for a while, and I'm going to be in and out of hospital. I want you to take care of yourself, Ria. I want you to keep going to school, and make sure you eat properly and go to bed at sensible times if I'm not here."

 "What's...going to happen?" she'd said, feeling numb. She had stepped into someone else's life; she had fallen into the TV and been amalgamated into a medical drama, because this didn't happen to normal people. It wasn't fair.

Her mother sighed. "I'm going to get treatment." A strange expression had passed over her face, her eyes unfathomably distant. "One way or another," she had said grimly.

 Were you thinking of going back then? wondered Ria. Did the Nightworld tempt you? I don't think I would have kept away, not knowing what you did.

 How was it you escaped them and I didn't?

 But she knew that answer: Bliss.

~*~

One day, she simply walked in to find Bliss sitting in the living room, surfing through the TV channels.

 Ria had stopped, her heart lurching. It truly was her: her face a little older, sharper and more lovely than ever, her hair loose around her shoulders, a languid leg thrown over the arm of the chair.

 "You're late," commented Bliss, and there was something about her voice that Ria didn't recognise at first. A purring, rich quality that hadn't been there before. When she sat up, it was fluid and arching, a movement designed to seduce.

 Ria had floundered for words, and eventually, all she'd been able to say was, "And you're about two years late."

 "I'm right on time." Bliss's eyes had flicked up and down, oddly dispassionate. "You haven't changed much."

 She stood, and Ria took an involuntary step back as her sister spread her arms wide, a martyr waiting for the killing blow. And for a moment, Ria was fooled; eyes shut, face serene, Bliss was angelic in repose.

 And then fire rushed from her hands along the length of her body, licking back and forth. Bliss always loved fire, and it suited her flair for the theatrical well.

 "I, however, have," Bliss said lightly. "You wouldn't believe what I've seen, dear sister, but you will."

 Ria couldn't help but feel a swell of fear as she recognised that lazy, lethal tone. Cruelty, idling under the words. She turned to run-

 The door slammed closed. Ria spun back, ready to sprint across to the exit into the garden, but with a single gesture from Bliss's long fingers, that snapped shut too.

 "I need your help," Bliss continued, a dreadful amusement in her voice. "You see, I've made a bit of a name for myself in the Nightworld. But I'm quite noticeable. A bit too memorable. I need someone inconspicuous to spy out a few...details for me. And I thought, well, family. You can always rely on them."

 Bliss sat back down again, triumphant as a queen on her throne.

 "So, will you help me?"

 Ria shook her head, frantic. Someone had stolen her sister and replaced it with this cold, dazzling creature. She wanted nothing of the Nightworld.

 Her sister raised thin eyebrows. "When did you find time to grow a spine? It's not a choice, Ria. You see, I learned a lot while I was gone, and one of the things they taught me was this..."

 She rummaged in her delicate handbag, and drew out a figurine. When Bliss held it out, Ria realised it was a wax doll, and she didn't need any coaching to recognise the hairs wedged into the head or the scrap of material tied around its body - or the broken earring Bliss had stuck into it like a dagger. All of those had been thrown away recently, and she supposed Bliss must have scoured the trash for what she wanted.

 Well, she never minded getting her hand dirty, Ria recalled.

 It was a representation of Lierra Lutinne, and on the crudely formed breasts, Bliss had planted what looked like mould.

 "It's not bad, even if I say so myself," Bliss said, examining it. "And it does the job. See, she knew all along, Ria. She knew about the Nightworld and about my father and she hid it from me. She was afraid of it, but I'm not."

 Oh my god, she remembered thinking, her legs turning to paste and weakness. Oh my god, would she really do that to Mom?

 Yes. She couldn't disbelieve it, not with the evidence in front of her, not with that indifferent expression on Bliss's face. "So she wouldn't have been any help," continued Bliss, as if she wasn't holding that monstrous doll in her hand. "But you - no one in the Nightworld would ever think you could be a threat."

 "I can't," she whispered, the fear so intense she wondered why she hadn't just fallen on the floor, screaming and screaming until it all went away. "I..."

 "You can and you will." Bliss glanced at her watch. "In fact, you'd better pack. Don't worry - I'll let Lierra know you've gone travelling with me. It'll be inconvenient if the bitch sends the police after us."

 "How can you talk about her that way?"

 Defiance had never occurred to her; in a way that part of her did not want to admit, it was almost a comfort to have Bliss sweep in amongst the turmoil, to say: I will organise your life. I will take away all those terrible decisions.

 They had fallen back into their roles of leader and follower once more.

 "You have no idea what she kept from me." But the ferocity in her eyes and her pursed mouth spoke of a fury Ria didn't want to wake. "Yet."

~*~

 Ria didn't like to think about what passed during the days after. She became a fugitive, hating the constant travelling. Bliss revelled in it, charming strangers into giving her money, thieving food with a flick of her fingers, sweeping into the grandest hotels to enchant a room from an unwary clerk.

 And Ria found out just what her sister had become. A hired knife, seduction merely one of a number of weapons. Bliss wasn't subtle, but she was effective; a string of inhuman faces passed before them, paying for what Bliss labelled 'favours' and Ria privately called 'crimes'.

 In such circumstances, they came to Ryars Valley, and to Cougar.

 Cougar. It seemed only natural to Ria that he and Bliss should attract, equals as they were, matching in their unusual beauty and their wildness. From the moment she met him, he had frightened her. Perhaps it was partly that he reminded her of Bliss; she felt that he had the same potential for thoughtless cruelty, the same erratic temper, shifting from mood to mood with disheartening speed.

 He had looked on her, his gaze intense but brief, and dismissed her so easily that she had felt nothing more than an insect. Later, his mistrust had been just as poisonous, and she had felt trapped between the dual fears of him and Bliss, both empty of mercy.

 "I think he's dangerous," she had confessed to Bliss one evening.

 Bliss had met her eyes in the mirror as she outlined her mouth with red lip-liner. "Of course he is. Why do you think I like him? For that matter, why do you think you don't?"

~*~

 And in the dangerous and the beautiful, there was always a thrill. Ria never kidded herself about it: she had always been awed by Bliss, willing to be controlled by her. Partly from fear, but partly because Bliss had natural authority.

 Ria had felt that same thrill and that same submission when Cougar declared himself as hers. Hers to love, and later, hers to hate and to resent.

 His contradictory nature confused her. She could never anticipate his mood or understand his humour, black and bladed as it was. And so when he came to her seeking solace, she treated him with the wary affection of a zookeeper whose charge was prone to bite, keeping part of herself from him, hiding her fears beneath vagueness and evasion.

 Sometimes she wondered what would have been if she could have put aside those fears. If they had not held back, if she had known him with matchless intimacy, and he had known her in the same way, no fragment of his soul denied to her loving curiosity, would their love have lasted?

 Would she have found something amidst the shadows and lightning to love, to treasure and to revere? Would she have sung out her heart to him and heard an answering echo, a gentleness in him she could not imagine now?

 Or maybe it would all have ended that much quicker, the differences between them severing their bonds as surely as an axe. And if it had, she told herself, it would all have been cleaner.

~*~

 Bliss only ever spoke of love once, early in their sojourn in Ryars Valley. It had been early in the morning, and Bliss had been fixing coffee. She always made it for Ria as well, as though some part of her could not leave behind her role of carer.

 "You know, there's this Turkish saying," remarked Bliss. "This guy - Anguis - he told me it. Coffee, it's supposed to be sweet as love."

 Ria said nothing, unsure where Bliss was going.

 "We should leave out the sugar in that case," her sister continued. She'd caught Ria's frozen expression, and flashed a mocking smile. "Bit too cynical for you, Ria? Don't tell me you're still waiting for your white knight."

 She'd shrugged. When Bliss was in a mood like this, silence was the safest answer.

 "If he does turn up, you can bet his armour's going to be grubby and he'll be riding a clapped out nag. Huh, he'll probably be a clapped out nag himself. Don't hang around waiting for love," advised Bliss, a bite to her words. "It won't be what you expect, and you'll just end up wishing for something better."

 "You speak like you know about it," Ria had remarked, curiosity overriding her common sense.

 Bliss dumped the coffee on the table. "I do, little sister. I fell in love, and then he betrayed me, and so I killed him." Her smile took on a queer quality. "Don't ever be afraid to do the same. If an animal's rabid, we'd happily shoot it down. If food goes rotten, we throw it out. So why do we cling on and on to decaying relationships? I can never work it out."

 Then she'd seemed to recover herself.

 "Why am I telling you this? Even if some blind, desperate man does fall for you, you'd never have the guts to get rid of him."

~*~

 Before she left America completely, Ria went to see her mother, half-ashamed, half-hopeful. She had visited her several times since Bliss had died, but Ria had felt her home was in Ryars Valley, and she had sensed her mother had her own guilt to deal with.

 "Your handsome vampire isn't in tow today," was Lierra Lutinne's first remark. Her hair was short and styled, still growing back after her chemotherapy two years ago. "Ah. And I see from the look on your face that he won't be in tow ever again."

 "It's over," she'd said glumly. "We just...he scared me."

 Her mother sighed. "Maybe if I'd warned you about the Nightworld-"

 "I don't think it would have made a difference." Not for he and I.

 "Don't be so sure." Lierra shrugged. "I grew up with vampires and shapeshifters. I left because I didn't like what the Nightworld was becoming, not because I was afraid. The lamia are a law unto themselves. Especially the Redferns."

 "I don't think the Nightworld's for me," she said softly. "My friends...they're all so involved with it, even though they think they aren't. Toya - she loves being a witch. So does Cern. It's so easy for them. They hardly even think about using magic."

 Lierra jabbed a finger at her. "Then they're careless. Magic isn't a toy, and it only obeys you if it wants to. I'll bet you anything that one day, those two are going to find themselves caught up in darker magic than they can handle." Her hectoring tone faded, and she said more gently, "But being part of the Nightworld isn't about how easily you use magic. It's about secrecy and fear and power. It's about loving those qualities and being able to use them. That's what it comes down to, my girl, and if you don't want to be part of it, I can't blame you."

 "Bliss loved those things," murmured Ria. She rarely spoke of Bliss to her mother, unsure how she felt about her firstborn's death.

 Her mother turned away her face, sorrow softening her profile. "I wish I'd been around more when you two were growing up. Maybe I could have seen it. Maybe if I'd taken her to a local coven she wouldn't have gone off the rails."

 "Do you miss her?" she asked, the question out before she knew she'd intended to ask it.

 "Of course. I miss my little girl." Lierra stared at the floor. "But I don't think I'd have liked who she became. It's...it's a terrible thing to realise you've failed. As a mother, I mean. I should have known...I should have..." She raised a hand to her face, shielding her eyes as if it had become too hard to look Ria in the face.

 Ria waited, and eventually her mother uncovered her face, revealing a watery and hard-won smile.

 "At least I can be proud of one of my daughters," she said.

Lyrics from David Grey's song 'My Oh My' (White Ladder).