“This isn’t about the rogues. Don’t you see that? The only reason Liv was there last night is because of me. I brought her into this. I took her hunting the night this all started. They wouldn’t even know about her or her connection to me if it wasn’t for what I did.”
My tone is testy, my emotions irritable—a volatile combination for an already cranky vampire.
“That’s a bit of a stretch, Ava,” Jeremiah says.
“You can’t blame yourself for this,” Malik adds.
They speak almost in unison.
I groan internally. How can I better explain this to them? If I don’t sway them to my side, they won’t agree to find Liv, and I know the witches can’t do this alone. They might be able to find her, but they’ll never fight off an entire nest.
“They don’t deserve our help,” Hikari says. Her tone is absolute.
I know there’s no convincing her, but I try anyway. “Liv doesn’t deserve to die just because her coven is ungrateful.”
“I don’t trust them, Ava,” Amicia says. Her tone is sharp, calm.
“I don’t either,” I admit. “But Liv needs our help.”
“How can you be sure this isn’t a setup?” Amicia asks. Sometimes I think she’s a mind reader. I know this is impossible, but she so accurately conveys my own thoughts far too often for my liking.
I shrug. “I can’t, but regardless, I won’t risk Liv’s life on the off chance they’re lying.”
“That is what they do best,” Hikari says under her breath.
Amicia shoots her a look that makes my stomach queasy. Hikari silences immediately and stands straighter, no longer slouching against the doorframe. This makes me smile. There’s something about Amicia that makes my insides flutter in all the worst ways. She radiates power like the sun does heat. Jasik explained that it’s her age. The older the vampire, the more powerful the vampire, and Amicia is as old as they come. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only one who submits to her will so easily.
“You have far too many admirable qualities, Ava,” Amicia says. “These witches never deserved you.”
I smile, relief washing over me. I thought it was going to be much harder to convince them to help.
“But I will not risk our lives again. My answer is no.”
Amicia’s words roar through the silent house. No one speaks—not me, not the other vampires, not the witches outside. For one brief moment in time, her words are comforting. She grants me the one thing I could never get on my own: freedom from the witches.
Then I blink back into reality.
Chapter Two
The solarium is dark.
The clouds roll in, and the stars hide behind this overcast evening. The moonlight doesn’t quite penetrate the endless row of stained-glass windows like it does on other nights. It’s as if the sky knows what’s happening—the eerie request from the witches startling it, too.
Amicia and I are alone. She ordered the vampires to retreat to their bedchambers and the hunters to wait in the foyer, leaving just the two of us alone to chat. I don’t have a good feeling about this.
I glance through the parlor and spot my sire by the front door. Jasik eyes me curiously, anxiously awaiting our return. The others don’t make eye contact. They’re not happy with me or this situation. They want the witches to leave and for life to get back to normal, but our enemies have no intention of leaving us—not until I join them outside and share the bad news.
Even then, I may have to force them to leave. The witches came seeking aid. I doubt they’ll just walk away without help, especially with such a precious life hanging in the balance.
Amicia made it clear. We will not aid them. We will not look for Liv. By choosing to remain part of this vampire family, I have condemned my past to death. That stark realization doesn’t startle me.
When I asked Jasik to save me—when I willingly became a vampire—I knew I would be forced to choose. Deep down, that reality lived inside me. I fought it over the months that passed, striving for a world without violence and bloodshed. Now I know the truth. Utopia only exists in my dreams. Unfortunately, when I close my eyes, I don’t envision that perfect world; I see nightmares of betrayal and hatred instead.
The tiny hairs all over my body alert me to something sinister. My throat tightens, and in the corner of my eye, I see her. Amicia is standing close beside me. She follows my gaze, and Jasik quickly looks away. He’s pretending not to be eavesdropping. They all are. Amicia narrows her gaze before speaking.
“Wait outside with our visitors,” she says. Her tone is sharp, abrupt, leaving no room for argument.
Jasik nods and offers me a quick farewell glance. One by one, the hunters step onto the porch. The door is closed firmly behind them, and I’ve never felt more alone. I know I’m safe here. Amicia has admitted that she cares for me and wants me to remain a member of her nest, but still, something about this situation is unsettling.
Why can’t the hunters eavesdrop? Asking them to wait outside, knowing they will be too distracted to focus on our conversation while the witches are so close, seems as though our fearless leader has malicious intentions. I try not to think about that. I don’t want to visualize more treachery. A girl can only handle so much deception and dishonesty before she begins to take it personally.
“I know you’re upset with me,” I say. I’m the first to speak, and I do so softly. I’m cautious because I don’t want to upset her. Not simply for personal safety, but also because I do cherish my life here.
I scan the room, looking for the best seating. Being the only two vampires in the room, we have our choice, but I want to be in earshot of the hunters outside. I don’t trust that the witches won’t see this as a preemptive strike against them. They’re paranoid enough to make matters worse.
There are several wooden benches lining the walls, and Amicia takes a seat at one. She ushers for me to join her. I hesitate before sitting directly beside her. Our legs touch, and the sensation of brushing against something so cold and solid jolts my heart.
Amicia has an unexpected strength to her aura—one that permeates into the space surrounding her. Everyone can feel it, even the witches. With her being so small and frail-looking, it’s jarring to feel threatened or scared of her, but she’s the strongest vampire I’ve ever met. Time allots the undead many things—the enhanced strength is probably the most coveted.
We’re similar in height, and once I unlock my full power, we just might be similar in vitality and vigor. But I’d never dare challenge Amicia—not unless I must, that is.
I don’t look at her. Instead, I eye the many open seats. With all the vampires elsewhere, this house has never felt so empty, so lonely. In addition to the benches, there are several tables and ottomans. Plants that thrive in the darkness clutter the space, making it difficult to assess how massive this room truly is, but it lines the entire right side of the manor.
The solarium is my favorite room in the house, which I find intriguing. In theory, this room is for sun worshippers, not vampires. And even before I transitioned, I was always a night owl. I’ve never cared for sunshine or early mornings or sunrises.
But I could watch a sunset until my retinas burned. Only when the sun finally slumbers and the world is blanketed in darkness do I truly feel alive. There’s something special about the night. It speaks to me in ways the light never did, never could. Sometimes I believe I was born to be a vampire, for I find my strength in the shadows. I’ve always been an outcast, a misfit, and I’ve never felt more loved, or more comfortable in my own skin, until I became one of them.
“I’m not upset with you, Ava,” Amicia says. Her voice is soft, clear, and completely unreadable.
I groan internally. I don’t believe her, but why would she lie? I’m beginning to think the witches’ paranoia is seeping into the house.
“I don’t want to help the witches,” I confess. This isn’t a total lie.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“
I just… I don’t want Liv to die.” My voice is whisper soft and utterly vulnerable. I don’t miss the difference between Amicia, a leader, and me, a follower. Mamá used to think I would one day lead our coven. I laugh at the thought now.
If I’ve learned nothing else from my time with the vampires, I’ve learned I’m too rash to be a leader. I would charge into battle headstrong and watch my followers die. Look at what’s happening right now. If it were up to me, I would help the witches. Amicia must sense something I do not.
“I know she was your friend,” Amicia says.
I nod. “We were best friends.”
“But you’re not anymore,” she explains, her voice deadpan.
“I know.” This is beginning to feel strangely like an interrogation.
“Do you?”
I arch a brow and decide not to beat around the bush. “What do you mean?”
“Do you understand that you’re no longer friends with these people?”
I shrug and play with loose threads dangling from the edge of my top. I pull some free and roll them into little balls between the pads of my fingertips.
“You’re hindered by your emotions, Ava, but one day, you’ll see that I made the right decision.”
I exhale sharply and drop the threads onto the tile floor. “I’m tired of everyone assuming I’m an emotional mess. I’m not a child. I make decisions based on what’s right, and leaving Liv to die is just plain wrong.”
“You are blinded by your loyalty to them,” Amicia says. “This is why you cannot see the wisdom of my choice not to aid them.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong. You just don’t want to help them because of everything that’s happened.”
“They are our enemy.”
“We’ve all made mistakes, but we must break this cycle,” I say. “We can have a better life here.”
“You make empty promises of eternal peace. This will never happen, Ava. Don’t you see that? The witches will never be our allies.”
I scoff. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hypocritical?”
“Excuse me?” Her eyes narrow.
“When you needed assistance to learn more about my magic, you turned to a witch. You asked Holland to come here, to help me control my magic. How is that any different?” I cross my arms over my chest, and the top of my shirt crinkles. My cross necklace is exposed. The silver metal glistens in the light, catching Amicia’s eye.
“Holland has proven his devotion to us. Never has he endangered my vampires. You gave your witches every opportunity to work with us, and each time, they disappointed you. Why do you allow them to continue hurting you?”
I exhale loudly and drop my hands into my lap. “They’re scared. That’s all. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but mortals tend to lash out at what they don’t understand.”
Amicia snorts. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”
I never forget how many years she’s been walking this earth, and it never ceases to amaze me. If she didn’t give me the complete wiggins, I would ask Amicia about her time here. Where was she born? How did she die? Did she know what was happening to her? Does she miss her family? I’m guessing she doesn’t. If she did, she’d give me the opportunity to salvage my relationships with my remaining blood relatives.
“Eventually they’ll understand that we’re the good guys,” I say. “They just need more time to see past their prejudice.”
Amicia holds up her hand, silencing me. “Enough. I have an eternity on this planet, Ava, and I still wouldn’t offer the witches even one moment of it. They don’t deserve my leniency, and they certainly don’t deserve your loyalty.”
I sigh, defeated. Amicia and I will never agree on this. She’s seen far too many horrendous acts to forgive the witches of their misdeeds, and the witches are too stubborn to believe a vampire can truly be good. This is a vicious cycle that won’t end even in our lifetime.
“So what happens now?” I ask.
“You will tell the witches that we will not aid them, and you will make it clear that another unannounced visit is unacceptable. I will agree to only one pact: they stay off our property, and we’ll stay away from theirs.”
“And if they don’t listen?”
Amicia doesn’t answer, but her eyes say everything my ears don’t hear. If the witches come here again, she will be their end. The coven might be powerful, but Amicia is an experienced fighter. I’m certain she will outsmart even the most ruthless coven.
She glances down at my neckline, but my cross is covered by my shirt. In the morning rush, I didn’t have time to show her my new ability, but I’m sure someone else mentioned it while I was outside with the witches. I wait for the proper time to pull out a cross—one of the few things that can cause everlasting physical pain to a vampire—and shove it in her face as a declaration of my strength. Fidgeting in my seat, I’m uneasy with the idea.
“Ava, I’m going to ask you to do something that might make you uncomfortable.”
I swallow hard. “What is it?” Inside, I’m screaming, begging her not to make me hurt the witches. I’ve already turned my back on them—and my former best friend. Isn’t that enough? Can’t we end this here, now?
“Vampires make blood promises to each other. I want you to make this promise to me now,” Amicia says. As she speaks, everything about her—from her voice to her eyes to her face—is void of emotion. She blinks, waiting for my response.
“What am I promising?” I ask, confused.
“You must promise not to search for the witch on your own. Promise that you will respect my decision.” She sits back, resting against the bench’s armrest, and folds her hands in her lap. With her fingers laced together, her back straight, her head high, she’s awfully threatening.
“And what do I have to do?” I ask softly. I’m cowering under her gaze, finding it difficult to simply look her in the eyes when she speaks.
“You must make a blood oath to me, to this family. You are one of us, Ava, regardless of who sired you.”
“A blood oath?” I ask. My voice quivers, betraying my hesitation.
“I understand this is unfamiliar to you, but this is something vampires do.” She gives me a Cheshire cat smile. It’s wide, large, and emotionless.
Completely creeped out, I look down at my hands. “Jasik’s never mentioned blood promises before,” I say, thinking back to all the times he explained how different the vampire lifestyle will be for me. Surprisingly to both of us, vampires and witches aren’t that different. Discovering the witches have been lying to me about a lot of things for a very long time was a difficult cross to bear. Yet, I’ve forgiven all the atrocities they’ve committed against me, against us.
But I’m finding it hard to trust Amicia now. I remind myself that she’s been more of a mother to me than my own blood. She’s kept me safe, offered me refuge, given me food… And I doubt her now?
I nod, trying to convince myself I’m doing the right thing. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Amicia smiles again, but this time, her eyes slant in a mischievous stare. I swallow hard as she reaches for my hand. “Wise decision, my child.”
The moments that follow rush in an uncomfortable haze. I’m completely aware of everything I’m doing, but I don’t feel as though the actions are my own. It’s like I’m floating above my body, watching as something else controls my movements. Whatever this thing is, it’s the one who’s obeying Amicia’s orders, and it’s using my body to do it.
“Hold your hand like this,” Amicia says. She places her hand before me, palm facing the ceiling. I mimic her action. “This shouldn’t hurt.”
Her fingernails are painted black, and she digs a pointed tip into my flesh until a deep crimson liquid pools in my hand. I wince as she burrows deeper, the pain stinging through my hand and radiating up my arm. I gnaw on my lower lip until I draw blood. I suck down several droplets before my skin can heal.
When she withdraws, her nail is coated in my blood. No longer black, it drips o
ff her finger and splashes into the puddle that’s formed in my palm.
She assaults her own palm in much the same way before grabbing on to me. Our palms pressed tightly together, we interlock fingers, and she speaks.
“Give me your blood oath, Ava,” Amicia orders.
“I—I promise… I promise I won’t go after the witch by myself,” I say, stumbling over my words. What exactly does one say when making a blood oath?
Amicia’s mouth presses into a firm line, but she relents. I guess I did it correctly after all.
“Very good,” she says.
She pulls her hand free of my grip and licks her palm clean. Nauseated by her actions, I just stare at mine. The wound has healed, but the blood remains. Clenching my hand, I smear it with my fingers, only succeeding in making a mess. I wipe my hand on my jeans, but even with a clean hand, I can still feel her blood there. I still feel the moment her fingernail tore through my flesh, and I feel her blood coursing through my veins. It makes me uneasy and downright dirty. Somehow, I know I’ve just betrayed my sire.
“I don’t understand.”
“We can’t help you,” I repeat.
The witches have surrounded us, but thankfully, the other hunters are behind me. No longer hiding behind the solid front door, they stand at my sides, forming an impenetrable line should the witches attempt to force their way inside. Of course, they wouldn’t do that. There’s nothing for them here.
Jasik is next to me, and he grabs on to my hand, linking his fingers with mine. I swallow a knot in my throat and relish in his strength. He makes me more courageous and self-assured.
Suddenly, I realize I’m not nervous because of the witches. They’ll be upset with my decision, but they will accept it. The witches will leave, and the vampires will return to the manor, to their sire.
My throat is tight and raspy because of the dark promise Amicia forced me to make. Jasik’s skin is resting against my palm—the very same one that swore a blood oath to another vampire. My stomach curls in response. If I tense, Jasik pretends not to notice.
Dark Promise Page 2
