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Dark Spell

Page 7

by Danielle Rose


  “What is it? Ava? What is wrong?” Holland says. He leans forward and grabs on to my hand. He grips it firmly, tightly, never loosening until I speak.

  “I remember something,” I admit.

  “What?” Holland asks, breathless.

  “For them to perform this spell, I had to be linked to something earthly,” I say.

  Holland frowns, processing my words.

  “I was linked to my mother.”

  Chapter Six

  The walls of my bedroom are closing in on me. Slowly, they creep closer. The floorboards splinter and crack, giving way to a far greater force that has its sights set on me.

  Even my bed frame, with its flowing waves of sheer fabric meant to symbolize an escape, looks like a prison. I try to envision the tropical paradise I once saw when I looked at this room, but I cannot see it. All at once, the world is crashing down, and it is taking me with it.

  Desperately trying to calm my nerves, I run a hand against my neck, swiping away the moisture that is dripping down my back. What sweat I do not catch soaks into my T-shirt. Suddenly, I am acutely aware of how moist my clothes are. I am drenched in sweat from fear, from the mere thought of slowly descending into madness. I realize now that this will be my only awareness of it, for the insane do not know they are mad.

  In these last moments of undeniable truth, I shake out my limbs and crack my neck, hoping to ease the growing tension swarming within me. Unfortunately, it does not work. Slowly, I am slipping into the unknown, and I cannot find my way out.

  “Just relax,” I say to the empty bedroom.

  I must maintain my composure. Already lost in a channel of nihility, I cannot jump into yet another pit. Darkness swarms all around me, threatening to overthrow what little sense I have left. I worry this is it. This is my last moment of peace.

  I think this is what insanity looks like. I replay my conversation with Holland over and over again in my mind; it loops endlessly, and I cannot stop it. The moment he discovered my link to Mamá, Holland promised he would stop at nothing to sever it. He assured me I would not succumb to the witches’ affliction. I believed him. But now that he is gone and I am left with nothing but my looping thoughts, I am beginning to doubt him.

  I stare down at my badly shaking hands.

  “You need to calm down, Ava,” I say softly. “Get it together.”

  I remind myself I will not die from this curse, and I will not go mad either. Holland is confident, but even as I attempt to convince myself, I am not so sure. I force myself to question everything and everyone.

  Is Holland smart enough? Strong enough? Does he have enough connections to outsmart the witches? I imagine it is not easy to break a black magic spell, so why is he so sure he can figure out a way to save me?

  “Stop!” I shout.

  I must stop second-guessing my friends. They are not deserving of such disrespect. They are not the reason I am in this mess. I did this. I made this happen.

  Sitting on the edge of my bed, I think about what the witches have done. They are sociopaths and murderers, and it took such a severe betrayal for me to finally see them clearly. And when I look at them now, all I see is madness. But I know it is too soon for their behavior to be the effect of the spell. So if their normalcy looks like insanity, what is to come? What should I expect as this magic eats away at their insides, leaving only a dark, barren fissure where their hearts once beat?

  I shiver when I think about falling victim to such vicious magic. This is why the black arts should never be dabbled with. Even a coven should not risk harnessing such power. It pains me to think Mamá felt as though she had no other choice than to cast such a dark spell. Does she hate me that much? She would risk not only my soul but hers as well? And what about the souls of her coven? Does she not care for anyone? Does she believe me to be such an abomination that all of Darkhaven must fall in order to be rid of me? How can I come from such a despicable woman? I hate to think it is her blood that runs through my veins.

  I sigh and sink my head into my hands. My eyes swell from frustration, and my temples burn where I rub them profusely. I feel a headache coming, and I am desperate to save myself from yet another annoyance.

  Ever since Mamá cast this spell, I have felt nothing but pain and fear. I want to feel strong again, to feel alive, to be free. I want to run with wolves and smell the flowers even in the dead of winter. I want to hear the moon and connect with spirit.

  All I want is to envision myself as a vampire again, but when I close my eyes, I see the black hole expanding within me. The vampire I once was is gone. She is dead, a severed chain in my withering link to that other world. I miss my world of darkness and chaos. I want so desperately to be part of it again. I want to hunt with the vampires, to patrol Darkhaven and keep the humans safe from the witches. I want my life back.

  I am an hour into my pity party when there is a soft knock on my bedroom door. I glance out my window. The sun has set, and night blankets the village. Immediately, I think of Malik. His deadline is up. It is time to save Will.

  I jump to my feet and rush over to the door, eager to distract myself from my impending doom.

  As soon as I grasp the doorknob, I hesitate. Do I tell Malik what Holland said? I shake my head at the thought. Of course I tell him. He needs to know. They all need to know what is to come. But when do I tell him? When do I tell Jasik?

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to cast out the images of my former sire. I cannot think about him right now. I do not want to remember the pain in his eyes, the hurt in his voice, or the fact that he sided with Amicia over me. He had his reasons. I am sure he assumed it would keep me out of trouble, and if Malik had not agreed to help, it just might have.

  I twist the handle and yank open the door.

  “Malik,” I whisper, voice betraying my relief. A small part of me worried he would never show.

  He smiles at me, and I step aside to let him in.

  “Hikari?” I say in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  “Malik tells me you are one vampire short of a successful plan,” she says.

  I frown and glance at Malik. He is silent, somber. Staring at my open window, with the curtains pulled to the side, offering a full view of what lies beyond these walls, Malik looks at the forest that surrounds the manor.

  Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I walk over to him and cover the window, hiding what Malik already knows as my truth.

  I am different.

  Blood makes me queasy. I cannot access magic. I do not burn in sunlight.

  Every hour that passes unearths a new piece, and I fear what will remain of the puzzle when we are finished putting it together. Will I like what I see? Or will I spend my final days growing old as my new family remains forever young? Will they remain by my side when I take my final breath? Or will they have long since left Darkhaven, cast out of their home by the witches who betrayed me?

  “So we have a successful plan?” I say, turning back toward the others. I do not contain my excitement.

  “I never said it will be successful,” Malik clarifies.

  Hikari sighs. “Do you always have to be a killjoy?”

  “Okay, but there is a plan?” I ask.

  Malik’s eyes darken, his face growing somber with each passing second. He crosses his arms, and his jacket strains to cover his bulging muscles. Hikari stands beside him. The two are polar opposites, complete contradictions, yet she is just as strong. Vampires are delightfully deceiving creatures, and I ache to be one again.

  “You are not going to like the plan, Ava,” Hikari says.

  “But it will work?” I say.

  “Yes—” Hikari says.

  “It should work,” Malik interrupts.

  Hikari groans and mumbles something under her breath as she rolls her eyes at Malik. Her spiky hair is shiny and black, and it glistens in the darkness. Malik ignores her protests, eyes focused solely on me.

  “Are you prepared for this, Ava?” Malik asks.
r />   I gnaw on my lip but nod. I will not deny that I am scared. I am weak, barely human. What can I offer them? How can I actually be useful? I cannot do much, but I refuse to abandon Will.

  “Tell me what I need to do,” I say, feigning confidence.

  Malik swallows, and the room falls silent.

  Hikari glances up at him, nodding sharply.

  “I spoke with Holland,” he says. “He told me about the link.”

  “Oh…” I say, voice soft.

  I am ashamed I did not tell him first, and honestly, I am not even sure why I did that. It is as if the witches have an invisible muzzle over my mouth. Even from afar, I keep their secrets when I do not want to.

  “We are going to use your link against them,” Malik says.

  “How?” I ask.

  “You are going to be bait,” Hikari says, grinning.

  “Bait?” I repeat, frowning, not liking the sound of that. Doesn’t the bait usually die?

  Hikari nods, beaming, utterly confident in the plan these two vampires have developed while the others slumbered, while I was having my heart-to-heart with Holland.

  “Bait,” Hikari confirms.

  Sneaking out of a house full of vampires, all supposedly with the keen senses needed to best even the world’s greatest hunters, is far too easy.

  I slip out the front door without a single hitch. I almost consider pursuing a life of crime after this, because clearly, I am an excellent silent ninja. I can sneak out of just about anywhere and not get caught. Even Mamá had been clueless.

  While running down the front porch steps, my foot catches on a plank, and I tumble forward. I slide down the steps with expert ease—thanks in part to the ice storm that poured down on us last night. I break my fall but land ungracefully into a mound of snow. Flopping over, I lie on my back, staring up at the two vampires towering over me.

  Hikari snorts while Malik sighs and helps me up.

  Embarrassed, I keep my head down while I brush off the debris. Snow has coated my body, and I am desperate to remove the evidence.

  “Are you sure this plan will work?” Hikari whispers to Malik.

  My gaze darts to hers, and I narrow my eyes. One time. I fell one time. I can do this! I scream at her with my eyes, not daring to raise my voice. With my current luck, I will be loud enough to catch the attention of everyone inside. For our plan to work, we need to go alone.

  Malik ignores her and focuses on me. His skin is pale, his irises a fiery red. He looks fierce yet indifferent, tired yet alert. Malik is most definitely a walking contradiction.

  “Remember, Ava, stick to the plan,” he orders. “Nothing else.”

  I nod sharply. His plan to use me as bait loops in my mind. As he explained, it is a last-case scenario. He and Hikari are going to attempt to lure out Will themselves, and with my help and a little luck, they just might be able to navigate Mamá’s house without ever encountering a witch.

  “This is not about vengeance,” Malik reminds me.

  “I know,” I say. “This is about saving Will.”

  “And surviving,” Hikari chimes in.

  “Yes, we all must survive,” Malik says.

  I smile, suppressing a chuckle. “That would be important…per the plan.”

  Before the other vampires catch us outside, we escape through the gate. We make the trek through the forest, ever conscious of the fact that we may not be the only ones hunting these woods tonight. We keep our eyes alert for motion, fearing the witches may be planning a counterstrike. The thought makes me cringe, but I know Mamá well enough to know she will not give up without a fight.

  Malik and Hikari are risking everything to help me. When Amicia finds out they disobeyed her orders, there will be hell to pay. Their punishments will not be light.

  I glance at them. They both lead the way while I struggle to walk in foot-deep snow, hoping they know just how much I appreciate their alliance. They might have only agreed because of my stubbornness and inability to leave an ally behind, but I am grateful nonetheless.

  I jump into each imprint Malik’s large boots make in the snow, and soon, my legs ache from the activity. It feels like it has been years since I had a good workout, even though I know that is not true. My training sessions with Malik and Holland were both physically and mentally exhausting, but it seems those benefits did not follow me into this afterlife. Now, I feel like jelly. I feel wiggly and floppy, and I ache all over.

  I swipe the sweat on my forehead with the back of my hand, breathing far too loudly for someone supposed to be sneaking around. With my eyes focused on the ground, desperately trying not to fall, I do not notice the vampires coming to a sudden halt.

  I walk into Malik, the top of my head smashing against his back. He does not budge, but I yelp and grab on to him to keep myself steady. Digging my fingers into the fabric of his jacket, I maintain my hold, not releasing him even when I glance around to see what has caught his attention.

  “What is it?” I whisper, breathless. My chest heaves, and I squint in the darkness. Without the vampires’ heightened senses, I cannot see what is worrying them.

  Unfortunately, I do not have to wait for a reply.

  All at once, the forest is brighter. I squeeze my eyes shut, throwing my hand up to shield myself from the fire’s bright flames. When I have finally adjusted to the drastic difference, I lower my arm and bear witness to what has halted our approach.

  Malik is still silent and stiff as stone before me. Hikari is standing beside him, arms flexed, hands balled into fists at her sides. I am cowering behind them, daring a peek between the wall of vampires protecting me.

  And that is when I see them. There are so many. They step forward, revealing themselves and their hiding posts. They step from behind trees and up from heaps of snow. They are dressed in white, blending into the icy forest.

  Abuela steps forward, and Mamá is close behind her. They walk with an elegant grace, mouths turned up and devious glints sparkling within their eyes. I wonder how long they have been waiting here. How long have they been hunting me?

  “Hola, hija,” Mamá says.

  Her words twist around me, slithering their way into my soul. Just one glance from her is enough to pierce my heart and assure compliance.

  I look away, shoving my face into Malik’s back. His hands are dangling at his sides, and I grab on to them.

  Teetering, I whisper over and over again that I am strong, that she has no control over me, that there is no link. I say it enough times I almost convince myself these words are true.

  But then she speaks again.

  “Mirame, niña,” Mamá orders.

  I am trembling, fighting the overwhelming urge to look at my mother. She has ordered me to, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to fight her desire.

  The connection linking us is threading tighter around me, and I worry it will smother me, squeezing out my breath, my blood, my complete essence until nothing remains but an empty, dead shell.

  “Fight it,” I whisper over and over again. “You are stronger than her.”

  Malik begins breathing louder, so dramatically so, it calms my aching limbs. I listen to his breath, letting it match my own. Slowly, I begin to calm, but when Mamá speaks again, igniting yet another fire in my soul, I almost break. I almost look at her. I almost succumb to her will.

  Slowly, Malik threads our fingers together into a makeshift chain. He radiates power, strength. Vampires are naturally alluring, and I let his scent, his natural musk, settle over me. When he begins to trace circles with his thumb against my skin, I feel more grounded than ever before. For one brief moment in time, I believe I can fight this curse. I believe I am strong enough to survive it.

  But then Mamá speaks, and my world crumbles.

  “¡Dije mirame!” she screams, and I shriek. Her anger erupts from within her and boils into me. I am awash with her frustration from my disobedience, and soon, everything I am is gone, leaving only what she is.

  And she
is evil.

  I fall away from Malik, landing on the ground. I catch my fall with my hands, but my arms sink into the earth. I look at her, just as she instructed. I do not disobey her again.

  Her irises are black as night. No longer the muddled brown color I remember, they are angry and hateful, and they threaten me with death.

  “Por favor, Mamá,” I shout, begging for mercy, even though I know there will be none tonight.

  I worry I was wrong to save Will. If he is already dead, then I stepped into the witches’ trap for nothing. Now, I have nothing to gain and everything to lose.

  “We need to get out of here,” Hikari whispers. Her voice is so low, I almost do not hear her.

  I glance back at Malik, but he does not look at me. He does not break his gaze, remaining ever focused on the witches. With each passing second, their numbers grow. More and more unfamiliar faces surround us, strengthening Mamá’s hold over me. She is far too powerful, and I fear the worst.

  She has not released the magic.

  She is one smart spell away from diving steadfast into this obscure prison.

  And she has every intention of taking me with her.

  “We are surrounded,” Malik says softly, simply. He remains strong before the witches, confident in his plan. Even as I falter, he never wavers.

  Hikari scans the forest, spinning on her heels. Her eyes confirm Malik’s assumption. We are surrounded.

  I scramble to my feet, hands frozen from the snow. When I finally stand, Mamá speaks to me.

  “Sal del camino, Ava,” she says.

  I shake my head, refusing to move. I will not step away from the vampires, because the moment I do, blasts of fire magic will incinerate the ground. Malik and Hikari will not die because of me.

  “How did you know we would come to you?” Malik asks.

  “¡Cállate, demonio!” Abuela says.

  “You do not speak to us,” Mamá says, seething.

  “How did you know? How did you find out we would be here?” I shout, repeating Malik’s question.

 

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