Back then, I didn’t know if Solon was going to kill me or not.
Now I know Yanik means to.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Yanik surmises, continuing to prowl. “You’re wondering, why you? What makes you so special? The thing is, darling, that’s something I aim to find out. You see, I was entrusted with testing you, to see how much of a threat you are.”
I try to swallow but it hurts. “A threat to who?”
“To whom and to what,” he says snidely, and he comes to a stop beside the last member of the circle. I’m noting he still hasn’t crossed over the line of blood. Whose blood even is that?
Then I feel the throbbing sting in my arm, tied behind the chair, and I know that the blood belongs to me. He must have cut me up while I was unconscious.
“You are a threat to the Makt. To the Dark Order, as many of you call it,” he says, glowering. “You have to know that Absolon took you because he saw you had the potential to undo us. Now we have a choice of what to do with you. Either I decide your witchcraft isn’t anything special and I kill you right here. Or I discover that it is something worth using and I bring you to Skarde.” He pauses. “He so wishes he could be here himself to see, but the old Lord hates to fly.”
“What does he want with me?” I ask, trying to buy myself some time and keep him talking, hoping he’s like the villains I’ve seen in the movies, the ones that won’t shut up. I wriggle my wrists against the rope, but to no avail. I then look down at my chest and realize my necklace is gone.
“Ah, you noticed,” he says. “I saw your necklace and threw it away. A waste of millions I am sure, but I can’t be too careful with someone like Stavig. He is very possessive, even for a vampire. But I don’t have to tell you that.”
“What does Skarde want with me?” I repeat. “If he thinks I’m a threat, then just kill me here.”
“Careful, girl,” Yanik snaps. “You might want to rescind that thought.” He bares his teeth at me, breathing deeply through his nose. “Your adrenaline is just kicking in. This is good. I was starting to think you couldn’t do anything unless you were in a heightened state of shock. Thankfully, I know how to shock you.”
He crosses over the line of blood and I guess I was expecting something weird to happen, but nothing does. The hooded creatures all remain where they are, poised in prayer pose, and Yanik stops right in front of me, smiling down like the Devil himself. I remember what Solon told me about him, that he was a made vampire just like him, and I have to wonder how often he gives into his madness.
I might just find out.
“Good,” he says, closing his eyes and breathing in deeper as the fear spikes through me, making my pulse race wildly. “Good, you’re there. You’re in your fear.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a knife, what looks to be the blade of mordernes, except it isn’t glowing blue.
“You know what this is, don’t you Lenore?” he says, holding it out. “A witch’s blade. A slayer’s blade. I figured that since you have witch in you, a supposedly powerful one, that maybe your energy would activate the blade.”
He brings it right up to my face, waving it left and right, back and forth. My eyes are glued to its every move.
“Nothing yet?” he asks after a moment. “Well, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to need you to ignite this blade.”
“No,” I say through grinding teeth.
“You can’t? Or you won’t?”
“If I activate the blade, then you’re just going to stab me in the chest and kill me.”
He gives me an acidic smile. “Ah, but if you activate the blade, that means you have power, power that Skarde wants from you. So really, it’s in your best interest to light it up. Otherwise….”
I swallow the fear rising in my throat, tasting like bile. “Otherwise what?”
“Well,” he says, sliding the blade between his fingers, “even though this blade might not be able to kill you as it is, I can find other ways to get your adrenaline rolling.”
In a flash, he brings the knife across my neck, causing my blood to spray in an arc toward, him, covering him in red, pain ripped from my throat.
“See,” he says wickedly, and I’m screaming, gasping for breath. “There it goes.” He leans in, his face close to mine, as if he’s confiding in me. “Everyone always talks about how to kill us vampires, but did you know that there are worse things than death?”
He brings the blade up to my ear and I try to jerk my head away, the blood continuing to pour down my neck and chest. “Take your earlobe for example.” I feel the sharp cold of the blade flick my ear. “Soft little thing. I could cut it off and it would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill you. But what if I took off your fingers instead?”
He walks around the back of the chair and I’m trying to breathe through the pain, willing the wound on my throat to close up and heal. Terror is everywhere inside me, a living, growing thing.
I feel the poke of the blade on my fingertips behind my back, then the sharp edge trail over my open palm. Yanik breathes in deeply.
“I could take off your fingers first, then your hands,” he rasps. “Then your toes, your feet. Start chopping you up into tiny little pieces. Just hack away at your skin and bones. And you’d still be alive. You’d be in a pain like no other, begging for death, but I wouldn’t give it to you.”
He comes around in front of me again, his wing-tipped shoes sticking to my blood on the floor, and he presses the blade at my crotch. “I could cut you from here,” he digs it in, almost breaking the skin, then drags it up over my belly, my stomach, up between my breasts, cutting into my shirt, “to here. Take a look at your insides. And still you’d be alive, wishing I’d cut off your head and be done with it. Yes, that seems like something I just might do, since you’re so useless after all.”
He grins at me, pure evil, pure madness.
For a moment I have to wonder how mad the rest of the Dark Order are, or the Makt, as he called them. They seem almost trained, ready to do his bidding, and if that’s the case, then Solon has a lot more to worry about when it comes to his father.
And then, as Yanik starts to press the blade into my chest, drawing blood, Solon feels like more than a thought.
He feels like he’s here.
And when I smell roses and tobacco and that undeniable essence of all that he is, I know I’m no longer alone in this.
But Yanik knows it too.
He takes a break from cutting me, breathing in sharply then whirling around.
I can’t see behind the cloaks of the creatures, but I can sense that Solon just walked in the barn, and he’s not alone either. I can smell that Wolf and Ezra are with him too.
Oh thank god, I think.
Lenore? I hear Solon’s rich, deep voice in my head.
I’m over here. He has me tied to a chair! I yell, my heart pounding with relief, though the fear is still palpable.
“So you found her after all,” Yanik says loudly, holding the knife behind his back as he faces the outer circle. “Medlemmer, let them through.”
Suddenly the cloaked creatures part to the sides.
Solon, Wolf, and Ezra appear, like a motley crew of well-dressed vampires. Each of them possesses the cold, deadly quality of a snake about to strike, calmly taking in the situation, fully confident in their abilities to kill.
I just don’t know if it will be enough.
Solon’s blue eyes meet mine and they burn right through me, into my soul, into that dark well, and I feel the pain in them, the guilt, the rage. I’m so sorry, he whispers in my skull, his gaze dropping to my neck and chest, the muscles in his neck cording in anger at what Yanik has done to me.
Stay cool, I tell him.
“Come,” Yanik says, motioning with his hand.
Solon takes the bait. Walks up to the red line of blood, his nostrils flaring once he realizes the blood belongs to me. But he can’t step any further. It’s like he’s hit an invisible wall.
“Ah, I forgot,” Yanik says smoothly. “You can’t. You know, you’re not the only one who has traded a few souls for a little bit of magic, Solon.”
Yanik then walks toward him, sliding the blade of the knife over his tongue, tasting my blood. He makes a disgusting licking, slithering sound that makes me cringe. “She’s unique, Stavig, I’ll give you that much. Tastes amazing. I can see why you wanted her to yourself. Unfortunately, your father has the same taste that you do.”
Solon raises his chin. “Let her go.”
“Or what? What are you going to do when you’re there and she’s here? You don’t have any of your paltry magic to save her. You’re just a fucking vampire right now. You don’t even have the monster inside you anymore, believe me, I can sniff it out, just as I sniff out my own.”
Yanik then nods at the cloaked figures. “Medlemmer,” he says again in what sounds like Norwegian. “Take them.”
Suddenly the Dark Order spring into action, seeming to disappear in the air, they’re moving so fast. Two of each grasp Solon, Ezra, and Wolf, holding them in place. None of the vampires can even struggle, not when the creatures dig their bony claws into their skin.
They’re trapped.
“I told you,” Yanik says, pacing now. “You’re nothing but boring, ordinary vampires now. The Makt makes sure of that. Your father spent a lot of time and made a lot of deals to ensure they’re like this. Oh, everyone said that the monsters couldn’t be tamed, and to be honest with you, Solon, I didn’t believe it myself. After all, we both know what it was like to be one. We still are one. But your father did it. His greatest creations, he said. Of course, it’s a slow process but, rest assured, soon there will be others like these ones.”
“Skarde’s issues are with me. Not with Lenore,” Solon says tightly, still trying to struggle against their boney grasp. “Let her go. Do what you will with me, but your fight is not with her.”
Yanik lets out a sour laugh. “Your father doesn’t want you, Stavig, sorry to disappoint. He has Kaleid, he’s all he’ll ever need. I know it must hurt you to be cast aside the way you were, in favor of his natural-born son, and he’s just half a vampire! But you’re nothing to him. Not even a threat. That’s what pisses you off most of all, isn’t it? That your father isn’t even a little bit afraid of you. Oh, your ego must be shattering with the blows.”
But I can tell Solon isn’t even listening to Yanik anymore.
He’s listening to me.
Even with his eyes on Yanik, I can feel him reach for me in my mind.
Lenore, he says, and he says my name like an apology.
I refuse to let him be sorry about anything, not yet.
Snap your fingers, I tell him. Do it.
I feel his confusion, his hesitation.
I can’t, he says. Yanik is too big, too much. I don’t have that kind of power. I can’t set him on fire.
He’s right. Almost.
But I do have that power, I tell him determinedly. With your help, I can do this.
Lenore…He swallows as Yanik prattles on about something or other, really trying to drive home the whole “daddy issues” thing.
I stare at him hard, trying to compel him if he won’t listen. Do it, Solon. Light me on fire.
He steals a quick glance at me when Yanik is occupied by the others, shaking his head ever so slightly. It won’t be enough.
I’ll make it enough, I say, and there’s something deep within that’s nodding its head, like my body is suddenly being shared by some other force, someone I don’t know. I don’t think they mean me harm, but they’re here. I can make it enough, I can take your fire and let it fuel me, you just have to light me up.
He swallows hard, lips pressed together in a thin white line. What if you don’t survive it?
I’ll survive it.
Another sad shake of his head. I can’t lose you, moonshine.
You will if you don’t do this. So do it. I’m ready.
He looks away, trying to come to terms with what I’m asking him. Silence fills the space between us, even with Yanik still talking.
Do it, Solon. For me. For us. Please. It’s all we’ve got.
Pain washes over his face, his cool façade crumbling. You are mine for the ages, Lenore. I won’t ever forget it.
From the anguish in his blue eyes, I realize what’s at stake here. Despite what I feel inside, despite what I survived as a child, there’s a chance that I won’t survive this now. I mean, I’m asking him to light me on fire like I’m made of gasoline. I might burn myself alive.
I might die.
Oh fuck.
Solon adjusts his stance and my eyes go down to his fingers, held in the snap position.
Wait, I cry out, every emotion suddenly flooding through me at the prospect of my death. I love you.
His jaw goes tight, his lips in a twisted smile. I know.
Oh god, he just Hans Soloed me.
“Do it!” I yell out loud, giving him no choice now.
Yanik snaps to attention, turning to look at me with wide eyes, then he’s moving fast in my direction.
Solon’s voice sinks into my head, Imagine the fire.
Then he brings his fingers together.
SNAP.
I close my eyes, imagining the fire, trying to become the fire, and I feel his spark hit my skin, and I pull up, up and up, from the dark well inside me, calling on the magic, black or light, any kind to save me in this moment, to take his spark and light me ablaze.
Something inside me churns with immense power, and a deep, unfamiliar voice inside my head asks, Are you sure, child?
I think of what Solon told me, how the candle flame needs just enough force to make it burn bright, and I answer the call.
Yes, I’m sure.
Then the well inside me ignites, catching Solon’s spark and suddenly my entire body goes up in flames.
I’m on fire.
I am the fire.
The fire rises.
With a growl I reach out and lunge for Yanik, the ropes already disintegrating, burning away with the chair. I grab hold of him, sinking my teeth into his old flesh, tearing at his throat, spitting out the skin and blood, and it’s enough to let the flames leap onto him.
Yanik screams, and then I’m pushing him to the ground, holding him there, smothering him. The fire that grows from my skin, that surrounds me from head to toe, is now spreading on him until he’s as much on fire as I am.
But the difference is, the fire is killing him.
It’s not killing me.
It’s giving me more power than I could have ever imagined. The dark well inside me is burning up, obscuring the waning moon with smoke.
I get to my feet, kicking Yanik’s burning, screaming body over to the side and swivel my head towards Solon, Wolf, and Ezra, held in place by the dark order.
All three vampires are staring at me with utter fear in their eyes, even Solon, though he manages to combine it with awe, his jaw slack. I must look quite the sight, a walking fireball.
There’s a screeching cry from the creatures as they hiss and roar, sounding like a zoo gone wild, and I know it’s just a hint of the true madness underneath those hoods. Without their master, who knows what they will do.
But I know what I will do.
A few of them start running for me on all fours, their red veils moving as they go, showing flashes of teeth, claws out, leaving gauges in the old wood floorboards.
I know what I’m capable of now, the confidence seeping through me.
I don’t even have to snap my fingers.
I just point at them as they run for me.
One, I think.
And a creature goes up in flames with a tortured cry.
Two.
I point at another one, just steps away, and it too bursts into flames, falling to the floor, thrashing helplessly.
Three.
I flick my finger at the third one on the loose, watching as its cloak explodes in fire, the s
creams filling the barn.
I grin to myself.
My god. This is almost fun.
I keep that smile on my face as I look at the rest of them, and now the vampires are really scared, even Solon doesn’t seem to know what I’m going to do.
Silly vampire, I say to him. Don’t you trust me?
He blinks at me, swallowing hard.
Then I look at Ezra and Wolf, giving them a warning look, before I throw my arms out into the air, displaying three fingers on each hand.
Six of Skarde’s creatures go up in flames at the same time, with Solon, Ezra and Wolf quickly pivoting away and out of their grasp.
I watch as the rest of the Dark Order falls to the ground, screaming.
Then the flames suddenly leave my body as quickly as they came on, draining the well inside me until it’s empty, snuffing out every living cell in my body, my blood shrinking in my veins.
I collapse to the floor among the creatures on fire.
And everything goes cold.
The flame inside me blown out.
For good.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I’m staring at a dog.
A black pit bull with big warm eyes and a wet nose.
The dog whimpers and then licks my face and I’m overwhelmed with the scent of raw meat and dog breath.
What on earth?
“Odin,” Solon’s commanding voice rings out. “Get over here.”
I blink and then Solon walks into my frame, crouching down to be at my level. I stare at his face as it comes into focus, and my god, sometimes I don’t know if he’s an angel or a devil, but right now, I’m afraid I might be in heaven. He’s so beautiful that it’s something close to dying, his black arched brows furrowed in concern, a soft smile on his lips, those glacial blue eyes flickering with affection, pupils large and dark.
“Solon,” I say softly, trying to move, but my limbs feel like they’ve been filled with lead.
“Shhh,” he says to me, placing his hand on my cheek, his large palm soothing against my skin. “Take it easy. You’re alright. You’re safe.”
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