A sharp gust of wind radiates through the forest. It howls through the air, shaking branches as it assaults the hibernating trees. I shiver, lip trembling. I am not dressed warm enough for such a cold night. I squeeze my hands, my fingers falling numb. The air is bitter against my cheeks, and it burns my skin.
Mamá laughs. “No one had to tell us, mija. We are your family. We know everything about you.”
“So you knew I would come back for him,” I say softly.
Mamá nods. “You are too caring, Ava. You never could leave a friend behind.”
I grind my teeth, balling my hands into fists. I want to slam them against those who keep getting in my way. I came to protect my family, and that is what I will do. Mamá thinks she is smarter than me; she always has. But I know her just as well as she knows me, and she has not bested me yet.
I turn to the vampires and grab on to Malik’s hand. He softens under my caress.
“Malik,” I say. He breaks his gaze with the witches to meet my eyes. “You need to leave.”
He frowns and says exactly what I expect him to say. “I will not leave without you.”
His voice sounds so sincere, and for a moment, I fear he truly will not leave me behind.
“We are outnumbered,” I remind him, speaking loudly. I need the witches to hear us. They need to know the sacrifice I am making.
“We assumed you would return without being fully prepared,” Abuela says. “But as you can see, we have many allies.”
I do not look at her, but I envision the smile plastered on her face. Everything about my grandmother makes me cringe. I have never hated someone so much in my life. She is a disgrace to Papá’s name, and for once, I am thankful he is not alive to see what has become of his family.
As I ignore my grandmother, I keep my eyes on Malik. I only break his gaze to look at Hikari. She is holding back tears. I can see them pooling in the corner of her eyes. I never knew she could tap into such emotion—especially for me.
“We cannot leave you, Ava,” she whispers.
“We may not be prepared for this fight, but they are. We are surrounded,” I warn.
“It does not matter,” Hikari says. “You are family.”
My heart sinks, the pain washing over me almost too much to bear. I hate that it has come to this. I truly hoped we could silently stalk the witches, using the night to our advantage to save a fallen comrade.
“I would never forgive myself if either of you were killed because of me,” I say. “Do not be fooled. The witches are listening now, and they are waiting for your decision. Either you walk away, leaving me behind, or you face them now.”
“We have fought these witches countless times now, and we are still here,” Malik says.
I soften my grip on him, and his eyes lower to my hand as it slips away. Slowly, I walk backward, putting distance between the vampires and me. The pain in his eyes is like a knife to the heart, and each step I take digs that blade deeper and deeper into me. By the time I have put enough distance between us, it has cut clean through.
“Ava…” Malik whispers. He tries to reach for me, but I pull away from him. I cross my arms over my chest, both providing necessary warmth on this frigid evening and to firmly sever myself from the vampires.
“Let me do this for you,” I whisper. “If this is all I can do to save you, then let me do this.”
“Ava,” Hikari calls, tears glistening down her cheeks. Her voice cracks, and it radiates off the chill that is settling in my bones. I want to run to them. Seeing their reactions is too real, too raw. I do not like this, but I understand what I must do.
And it is too late for me to return. Already, I am spinning on my heels, turning my back to the vampires. I take only a few steps before I stop completely and look at the witches. It is time I make myself clear once and for all.
“Let them go,” I order. “Let them live, and I will come with you.”
I stare at Abuela, our gazes becoming almost painful as we each wait for the other to blink first. After an agonizing amount of time, my vision blurs from the crisp air, and I see the faintest nod from her.
I watch the witches part, carving a hole in the circle to release the vampires. Time is of the essence, for I know the witches will not be kind for long. If the vampires want to make it home tonight, they need to leave. Now.
“Go,” I order, nodding at the opening with my head. My teeth clank from the bleak breeze working its way through the forest, and I sniffle, nose running.
Hikari takes a step forward, but Malik does not move.
“Leave. Now,” I say more firmly. I am beginning to shiver so obnoxiously, it is affecting my speech. My words sound rattled and jarring, and I am losing my authoritative tone.
I clear my throat, ready to scream at the vampires to just leave already. Unfortunately, I can fake strength with my voice, but not my eyes. I know Malik can sense my fear, my pain, but if sacrificing myself means saving them, I will leap into that fire over and over again. I have always been self-sacrificing for those I love. I know how to be nothing else.
Hikari loops her arm through Malik’s and attempts to drag him away, but he remains rooted. Only after I beg him, pleading with my eyes to save himself and Hikari, does he shuffle forward.
Together, the vampires leave, putting greater distance between us than the space between the witches and me. Without their strength to lean on, I feel even weaker. The vampires granted me protection, and I yearn for that safety now.
I do not move until the vampires disappear into the distance. But before the trees engulf them in darkness, I catch one last farewell glance from Hikari.
And then they are gone, swallowed by the night.
“Mírame,” Mamá says.
I close my eyes as I turn to face her, exhaling slowly. When I open them, she has closed the space between us. She reaches for me, pulling me into a tight embrace. I stiffen at the contact. When she wraps her arms around me, squeezing me firmly, I feel ill. My insides churn, my heart stops, and my lungs clench tightly.
“I knew you would come home,” Mamá says softly against my hair. Her breath makes the loose, frizzy strands flutter.
Bile rises in my chest, and I push it down. The thought of the vampires retreating and Mamá taking me to her home makes me sick, but I cannot show weakness. I need her to believe she has won.
After all, this was all part of the plan.
Chapter Seven
The forest is dark, the night silent. The witches welcome me back with open arms, as if I returned to them willingly. They act as though all is forgiven, but how can I ignore my flesh being ripped apart by those I literally died to protect?
I barely remember the girl I used to be—the one who pleaded with a vampire to save her soul because she was terrified of witnessing the destruction of her coven. I never imagined my world would fall apart at the hands of those same witches.
I worry the gaping wound in my chest, where the vampire once resided, will never close. The void, the midnight abyss in my heart that I yearn to fill, is a constant reminder of what I have lost. And I lost everything at the hands of my mother. She was supposed to protect me, to shield me from the evil in this world. Instead, she broke the laws of nature. The spell she cast is eating away at her insides, and I wonder if I should warn her. We are linked now, forever bonded and eternally inseparable. Her fate is my doom as well.
I glance at her, and she smiles at me. She shows no signs, but I know that energy is there, inside of her, stealing her sanity bit by bit. I imagine she does not have much left to give.
“Come, mija,” Mamá says. “Let’s go home.”
Her words wash over me, ensuring compliance. The link formed between us controls me. An invisible force, it twines around my independence like a spring, tightening firmly and smothering any chance I have at freedom. I do not even bother fighting it anymore.
With my head down, I trudge forward, my legs heavy, navigating heaping mounds of snow blanketing our small vil
lage. I sink into its depths, desperate to escape my life—the very one I was frightened to lose many moons ago.
I am in captivity…yet again. I have to remind myself that this is different. Malik knew we needed more time, but I knew Will had none to give. This was our compromise. Imprisonment.
The witches are talking to each other, everyone ignoring me—alarmingly so. Am I not their prisoner? I imagine running away, escaping and hiding behind a tree. They are all so focused on celebrating their supposed win, they are not even watching me. I glance at the women who dared challenge the vampires. They are all so…confident. I envy them. There once was a time I would face even the most formidable opponents. Now, I can barely navigate the woods at night without losing my breath.
The witches are not watching me, but I feel eyes on my back. When I glance over my shoulder, I see nothing but darkness. I squint, noticing only the dark shadow of a distant silhouette. Maybe Malik is there, watching, protecting. Or maybe it is just my imagination. The witches are not the only ones who can play cruel tricks.
I hear his voice in my mind, reminding me to remain calm, to stay compliant. We have a plan. Everything will work out, and I will be okay. This time tomorrow, I will be home again. I hope.
When I look at the sky, snow swirls in circles in the air. It overtakes my vision, making it almost impossible to see those who surround me. I pretend I am alone. I am walking through the woods, patrolling the town. I am strong and safe.
The flakes seem endless as they flutter about. I hate the cold, but the snow is beautiful. It clings to the trees, wrapping the bare branches. The moon makes it sparkle and glisten, and for a moment, the darkness is pretty, the unknown is welcome. But the serenity washing over me is brief, and reality sinks in like a dagger to the gut.
When we emerge from the woods, Mamá’s house looms overhead. Papá built this home decades ago, and since his death, it has fallen into disarray. The cedar planks he painstakingly used to form our shelter have turned dark gray from years of elemental abuse. They bear the truth of the many battles fought on this land. Parts are charred from fireball lashings, and Mamá simply never cared enough to cover them.
In the woods, I felt free. I could close my eyes and envision a different life. But the moment I crossed the tree line, the truth of my situation revealed itself. The air here is stagnant, with life frozen in time since Papá’s demise. I stare at my childhood home, hoping blissful memories of days past will flash before my eyes. Isn’t that what is supposed to happen when one’s life is over? I wish for happy memories, but they never come.
The picket fence that separates the house from the forest welcomes me home. I pass through the threshold, the noose around my core tightening with each step I take. The greater the distance between the vampires and me, the harder it is to ignore my link with Mamá.
Slowly, I am sinking into a black, tarry pit. My feet are stuck, suctioned to the goo, and it hurts so much, I actually look down. Staring at my heavy legs, I see nothing but a frozen tundra, a whitewashed land.
I want to tell myself that there is no pit, no tar, no dark depths eager to swallow me whole. It is all in my mind. But I know that would be a lie, for there is no greater deceiver than the witches.
The sliding doors that lead to the kitchen are only a few feet away now, and though I walk entranced, like a sated zombie, I can feel my fear rising in my chest. I want to scream. I want to run. But I do not. I just sink further, allowing the gunk to coat my legs from foot to knee.
The moment I reach the doors, I hesitate. It is brief but enough for the witches to notice. A silence befalls the group, and I stop, waiting for their inevitable reaction.
Everything I have done today has been in preparation for this exact moment—the return. But I am terrified that walking through these doors means eternal confinement. What if I cannot escape again? What if our plan fails? What will become of me if Mamá refuses to release me?
Mamá places her hand on my shoulder. I do not have to glance back to see it is her. The immediate warmth that washes over me is all I need to confirm her identity. Even her touch guarantees compliance. If I am to survive this night, I must pull strength from the very depths of my soul. But now, after all that has happened, am I truly that strong? Can I withstand her torment and the link?
I glance at her reflection in the mirror, and I gasp at the sight. I imagine she is smiling at me, but I do not see joy at all. Her face, darkened by the night, has morphed into a hideous creature. Her skin is taut, her eyes sunken, and her teeth large and bright; she looks more like a skeleton—like death incarnate—than a loving mother.
I squeeze my eyes shut, suck in a sharp breath, and step into the house. I’m so desperate to put space between Mamá and me, I am willing to walk into my prison to escape her.
I open my eyes, cross my arms, and hold on to myself as I enter. I try to draw from my inner strength, pretending the palms of my hands are somehow capable of becoming energy portals. I envision this magic seeping through my hands, strengthening every inch of my frame. I stand taller, more defiant.
When the sliding doors slam closed behind me, a burst of cold air sends shivers down my spine. I chew on my lip, peering into the living room. Unfortunately, we are alone. Will is nowhere to be found.
“¿Tienes hambre?” Mamá asks.
“No,” I say. The thought of eating right now makes my stomach churn.
“Siéntate,” Mamá says, and it takes all I have to fight her order. My body wants to obey, but my mind is screaming at me to stop.
“I am tired,” I say, glancing at the chair Mamá is pointing to. She wants me to sit, to talk, but I cannot. Any information she gains might uncover weakness. I worry about my safety, but I also fear for the vampires. The witches used black magic against me—one of their own. There is no telling what they will do to the vampires. I simply cannot risk it.
“Come,” Mamá says. “I will walk you to your room.”
I shake my head, immediately chastising myself for being far too eager to escape her. Mamá narrows her eyes, and already I can tell her mind is spinning. She is frustrated with my disobedience—something her spell surely should have corrected. If she asks me about my intentions for so easily returning home with her, will I divulge our plan? I must keep the vampires a secret. My survival—and Will’s—depends on it.
“You have company,” I remind her. I glance at the many unfamiliar witches who have assisted Mamá in ruining my life, and I burn their faces into my memory. I hate them—all of them, even the ones I do recognize.
Mamá frowns, but ultimately, she agrees to let me go alone. I knew she would. She may be a monster, but she is still my mother. She is not the only one who can con a fool.
Before she can object and force me to stay, I turn, rushing from the room. Without being too obvious, I quickly walk down the hall and up the stairs, nearly twisting my knee when I take the top landing too quick. I stumble into my old bedroom and slam the door closed behind me. With the wood barrier between us, I can finally breathe again.
Turning, I face my empty room, sliding down the door until I plop onto the floor. I sit with my back to the barrier, knees hiked up to my chest. Closing my eyes, I listen intently to the muffled conversations downstairs, rocking back and forth until the sounds of this old, creaking house finally fall silent.
When I wake, I am lying on my side. I open my eyes and stare at the layer of dust coating the floor. I sigh, blowing a cloudy puff into the air.
I sit upright, groaning as I stretch my neck. My muscles are tight, my back stiff. Glancing around my bedroom, I take a minute to fully wake. Everything looks exactly the same—eerily so—as it did before. Just sitting in this room makes me feel uneasy, like time has stood still since that fateful day. It pains me to know Mamá has been waiting for my return, especially considering how much she has tortured me over the past several months.
When I stand, my knees crack, my joints aching. Blood rushes to my head as I rise too quickly, and I
lean against the door, teetering as I maintain my balance on just one leg. The other is tingling. I groan silently as the tiny pinpricks betray a sleepy limb.
Impatient, I move away from the door before my leg has fully recovered. I limp as I tiptoe through the room and peer out my bedroom window. The sky is dark, but I do not know how much time has passed. Without the ability to sense the sunrise, I have no way of knowing the hour by just glancing at the moon.
I return to the door, and placing my ear against the wood, I listen. But I hear nothing. The house is silent, the visitors gone. I imagine Mamá is sleeping in her bedroom down the hall. With the house blanketed in darkness, now is my chance to find Will.
Slowly, I twist the knob and open my door. I peer into the hallway, which is just as dark as the night sky. I take one cautious step outside my room and glance down the hall toward Mamá’s room. Her bedroom door is closed.
I move slowly and deliberately toward her room, but by the time I finally reach the end of the hall and place my hand on her doorknob, I am shaking so violently, I cannot grasp the knob.
My palms are slick, my mouth dry. I wipe my hands on my jeans and shake out my arms. Silently, I tell myself to be strong, but internally, I am still far too weak to open her door.
I back away slowly, tiptoeing until I am back at the top of the stairs. Each time the hardwood floors creak under my weight, I freeze, choking on my breath, only daring a peek after several seconds have passed.
My heart is rapid firing in my chest, making it painfully difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. Every inhalation sounds like it echoes through the house, and I fear the sound of my breathing will penetrate the walls and doors. Mamá will be furious if she finds me sneaking around, and there is no telling what her anger will force her to do.
I descend the steps so slowly, so silently, I nearly screech when the antique grandfather clock chimes. I bite my lip so hard, I draw blood, and I fumble down a step, catching my fall before I can make too much noise. I curse under my breath, mouthing my pain as I grab on to my ankle, hoping silently in a pathetic attempt to remain quiet.
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