Dark Spell

by Danielle Rose

  I pray I am dreaming. That thought cradles me in warmth and safety. Maybe I am in my bed, safely tucked away deep inside the manor. I am surrounded by vampires, in the one place the witches cannot reach me. Maybe everything so far was just a dream, and when I wake, I will be a vampire again. I will be happy, healthy, strong.

  When the thought occurs to me that I might not be in the manor, that I might still be in the basement, I nearly black out from the rush of fear. Maybe this is my grandmother’s cruel trick. Maybe she is using the black magic to penetrate my mind, to make me see things that are not really there.

  Maybe it is too late. Maybe I am too far gone to be saved.

  “Ava!” someone screams.

  I feel Will grab on to my arms. His long fingers wrap around my flesh, holding firmly, and he shakes me. My body is stiff and does not give way easily. I fight against him, wanting him to just go away. I want this to stop. I want all of it to just be over. I cannot take much more of these games.

  I remind myself that Will was with me in the basement too. He might still be there with me, suffering brutal treatment at the hands of those who pledged to protect this town.

  He screams my name over and over again, but I do not want to open my eyes. I do not want to see his eyes any other color but crimson. I want to know he is strong and safe and that we are one quick run from escaping captivity.

  When he lets go of me and releases a loud grunt, I finally open my eyes. Will no longer shouts my name. He is not holding on to me, desperate for me to awaken. In fact, he is not beside me at all. Will is soaring through the air.

  For a brief moment, the world stills as I watch him flutter away.

  Then he comes crashing down, slamming into Jeremiah, who was fighting off another witch’s attack. Will lands clumsily, and they fall into a tangled heap. Both frantically trying to stand, they scramble for far too long, and another witch is swiftly approaching, her hand already raised to call upon her magic.

  I look at my own palms, and the tar is gone. I turn over my hands, assessing my skin. It is smooth and clear and clean. The black veins that penetrated me so deeply are no longer there.

  I was imagining it all. I am still free, but only if I keep moving. I must keep moving.

  I look at Liv, and her lifeless eyes still carry their accusations, so I shovel snow onto her face, burying her beneath the rubble. I do not want to look at her anymore. She decided her fate the moment she aided the witches in my demise. I must remember that. We are not at fault for her mistakes.

  On shaky legs, I stand. My stomach churns at what I see. All around me, witches are falling. The vampires are taking no prisoners, and I know I should not mourn the deceased—they all had it coming—but it pains me to know this is what it has come to. My release only comes with their death.

  An ear-splitting shriek penetrates the night air, and the sound rips through my heart. I scan the yard in search of the victim, my gaze settling on one of my few allies. My blood runs cold, the icy air no longer burning my weakened skin.

  Hikari is on her knees, and she is clutching her side. Trying to stand, she moves her hand, betraying a long slash across her torso. She is surrounded by three witches. They encircle her, their arms at their sides as they summon the elements.

  I freeze. I am not surprised the witches would target her. Our enemies are vengeful by nature, but I refuse to let Hikari fall simply because she was trying to save me.

  I know she only has moments to make a move, or she will succumb to their power. I must think quickly. How can I aid her? I remember the moment I used magic to heal myself. I was pinned against the floor, brutalized by my grandmother, and something within me just…snapped. The power swelled, and I released it, using it to heal my broken bones.

  Instinctively, I reach for my side. The pain is still gone. My wounds are still closed. If I can summon enough magic to simply distract the witches, maybe the others can dash to her side. Or maybe enough time will pass for Hikari to save herself.

  I squeeze my hands at my sides, pumping my fists, tightening my core. Deep down, I feel my magic springing to life. Unlike the usual waterfall ferocity, it is slow-moving, and I fear too much time will pass before I am able to channel enough strength to help Hikari.

  The witches are raising their arms now, chanting so quickly, I can barely hear the spell they are casting. She has only seconds. It is now or never.

  My chest is heaving, my lungs pumping oxygen to the rest of my body in rapid bursts of gassy energy. My limbs burn as the fire in my gut rises into my chest. I am reaching my boiling point, and I know I must release this magic soon or I might actually combust.

  At the exact moment that I am certain I can no longer contain my magic, I throw my arms out before me and scream, releasing every bit of agony I had pent up. A solid flow of anger and pain and fear bursts from my palms as fiery streams of liquid magic. The lava substance shoots across the yard, aiming unevenly at the witches surrounding Hikari.

  I miss.

  Having spent far too many days not practicing magic, I misjudge the distance, and I almost set Hikari on fire. Thankfully, my emotional duress caught the attention of everyone in the yard, giving Hikari enough time to leap away. She twists through the air, landing lightly on her feet several yards away.

  Seeing how Hikari is no longer in the cross hairs of three powerful witches, I lower my arms and slump forward, nearly tripping over my feet as I try to catch my breath. I am weak, desperate for nutrition and rest but believing I am likely hours away from relief. If it even comes at all.

  As my stammering heart slows to a comfortable level, I glance up and assess our situation. The vampires are winning, and things are not looking good for Mamá’s coven or for the unfamiliar allies she has assembled to murder us. The vampires might not have the numbers the witches have, but they are far greater predators. It is only a matter of time before they eliminate them all.

  Just when I consider Mamá might recognize this herself and ask her coven to retreat, she does the unthinkable.

  I feel the exact moment her fingers wrap around the back of my neck. I can barely breathe. Her fingers squeeze so hard I almost pass out, but as soon as I become light-headed, she loosens her grip just enough to keep me conscious.

  The point of her blade teases the throbbing vein in my neck, and I wince as the metal digs deep enough to cut me. The thick substance dripping down my neck tickles my skin as it descends until it seeps into the fabric of my jacket, halting its retreat.

  “Stop!” my mother screams, her voice ragged and raspy. She is so close to my ear, it is painful when she speaks. “Retreat or I will kill her!”

  I do not move, terrified that even a tiny flinch will make her dig her blade even deeper into my flesh. My arms dangle at my sides as I stand straight enough to make my back ache. I am shaking. I try to calm my nerves so I do not tremble so violently that I cut myself.

  My heart sinks as I work up the courage to look from one vampire to the next. They look from my mother, who stands directly behind me, to where her weapon is cutting my neck. A look of confusion crosses their faces as they consider what is being asked of them.

  But no one moves, because like me, even the vampires are unsure of what to do. The witches still as well, awaiting orders.

  I scan my enemies’ faces, finally settling on Abuela. She smiles at me, and I notice, unlike the rest of her coven, she is completely unharmed. My grandmother is standing by the glass doors that lead to the kitchen, close to where she was when she brought Will and me outside to meet our fate. Instead of joining this fight, she watched as she ordered others to their demise.

  I narrow my eyes at her, but this only pleases her more. Her eyes sparkle with joy, and a hint of bile works its way into my throat, forcing me to look away.

  Malik planned this night perfectly. I would be captured, and I would locate Will. The next evening, Hikari would be sent to scout the area, intentionally getting caught. The witches would gloat, assuming the frail-looking H
ikari was not a threat, and they would force me to watch as they kill her. At that moment, the vampires would make their presence known, revealing their intentions all along.

  Even if I was left in the dark for much of his plan, Malik described this night so accurately it was as if he already lived it himself. He anticipated every move—except for this one. Who would have believed my mother would be so deranged, so afflicted by the darkness within her, that she would threaten to slice my neck with her own hand?

  They could not have foreseen this moment, and now, they are not sure how to proceed. Do they retreat, or do they fight, risking my life? They look to me for instruction, but even I do not know what to do. Either way, I feel doomed.

  “Mamá,” I whisper, a single tear sliding down my cheek.

  Again, I ask myself, how has it come to this? How are we here right now? How is Mamá capable of murdering me? As much as I hate her for what she has done, Tatiana is still my mother. I could not intentionally harm her so fiercely she dies. I would never forgive myself if it were my blade that resulted in her death.

  My mother responds by squeezing my throat tighter. It is a warning. She will do what she must to protect the remaining members of her coven, even if that means murdering her child. She feels cornered, and maybe killing me is her only way out.

  Thanks to Liv’s sacrifice, we understand that our link is severed at death, but not at life. Will and Liv both were succumbing to the darkness inside of them, courtesy of that link. Now, that darkness remains within Liv, and Will is free. But when they were linked, he experienced her agony. That darkness tortured them both.

  So what does that mean? My mind is spinning as I think about that fateful night. Mamá linked herself to me, joining us as one. Even when I was back with the vampires, I still felt her essence inside me. She was always there, taunting me.

  Honestly, it was no different than my childhood. As I grew up, she constantly reminded me how inferior my magic was to hers. Never taking me seriously or believing my instincts, she made me believe she was always more powerful. Because she was. Mamá can summon the elements quicker than any witch I have ever met. She truly is a force to be reckoned with.

  I still, freezing slightly. Mamá does not seem to notice, but I am certain the vampires do. Jasik frowns, his gaze focused solely on me. He is looking for a clue, for some secret message as to what he should do. He thinks I have a plan, and unfortunately, I do. But it is one I must complete on my own. The vampires cannot save me, but I can save myself.

  Fearful I will back out and submit to the witches, I do not give my plan much thought. Instead of thinking things through, I live in the moment, risking everything I have ever known on the fact that Mamá was always right.

  I have always believed that Mamá was more powerful than me, but that was before I became a vampire. Now, severed from my vampire half, she is once again better, stronger—but she is not smarter.

  I close my eyes and whisper a strengthening chant. I feel the fire in my gut grow stronger at the mere sound of the familiar incantation. It is not enough to save me tonight, but it is enough to remind myself of how powerful a single witch can be.

  But thankfully, and courtesy of Mamá’s plan to bring me home as a witch, not a hybrid, I am not just one being. Not anymore. Mamá is not simply a powerful spirit witch; she is also royalty. I was supposed to one day lead this coven, but without me around, that burden falls to my mother. Mamá is the rightful heir, and that gives her power. That makes her connected to them, to an entire coven of witches.

  I imagine this is why Abuela did not volunteer herself as tribute when someone needed to be tied to Will and me. She knew tethering herself—the high priestess of a coven—would offer too powerful a link. What she did not consider is my mother’s relationship to her.

  Mamá is her daughter by marriage, not blood, but magic does not discriminate. During Papá and Mamá’s handfasting ceremony, where they pledged eternal love and loyalty to each other, they exchanged blood—becoming one, essentially. This is a great misjudgment on Abuela’s part, and I will use it against her.

  The spell that linked me to my mother formed something between us. This bond flows freely, and it is alive with power. I sense it when my eyes are open, but when I close them, I can see it. It is swirling with vibrant colors, encompassing both of us together…as one.

  I reach through that link, forcing my own essence into Mamá. When I reach her power swirling within her, I use it to strengthen my own innate magic. I may have been too weak to properly aid Hikari, but now I am overflowing with power.

  After the spell was completed, Mamá kept reassuring me that I am a witch now. That the spell severed my vampire half, leaving the witch to become the dominant species. But that does not mean the vampire is gone.

  I know she is there, in the darkness, waiting, watching, lurking. I feel her hunger, her desire. Courtesy of that spell, the vampire has been silenced, and I think it is time I return her voice.

  When I pull Mamá’s essence back into me, using the same portal she was using to torment me only hours ago, I feel rejuvenated with strength. And I use that energy to fill the gap inside of me. Magic cascades down upon that dark abyss, showering it with light, and finally, I see her. The vampire. The spell the witches cast did not remove her. They simply suppressed her, just as they assured me they would do.

  Surging with power, I chant, silently, calling the elements to aid me now. I sense the exact moment I come into power. Not because I hear the distinct crackling sound that betrays the use of magic or because I feel the surge of power, but because the outside world changes. The weather warms, and a fine mist settles over the land. The snow at my feet begins to melt as the elements encompass me. My body radiates the heat that warms me from the inside out.

  Mamá gasps, and I feel the wound on my neck sizzling until it closes. I know I am healed. Closing my wound was not my intention, but I am bubbling with power. It is seeping through my pores, closing wounds as it completely consumes me.

  Understanding what is happening, Mamá quickly withdraws her hand, striking my flesh with the sharp edge of her blade. She wishes to silence me, to cease my attack, but my wound heals quickly.

  My body is shaking, and I am growing tired. I can only tap into this power and hold on to this magic for so long, and soon I will burn out. Unlike my former coven, I will not contain magic not meant to be mine. I will release it, but for now, I have just enough at my disposal to make one final declaration against the witches.

  I know what I must do, but I understand it comes at a terrible cost. If things were different, if I were able to draft a plan with consideration just as Malik had, I might make different choices right now. Unfortunately, I do not have time to consider my options. I must act. Now.

  I open my eyes and throw my arms out to my sides. The wind changes as I shout my incantation at the world. Intentionally, I speak rapidly, hoping the elemental assault I am releasing upon the witches is distracting them enough to disorient them. The last thing I want is for them to understand my spell and then reverse it.

  Mamá screams, and though I do not see her, I know she is no longer standing at my side. She has withdrawn her weapon, and I am safe, protected by the magic she used to threaten me with all those years ago.

  The elements surge all around me, swirling viciously as they tear through the flesh of those who attempt to stop me. It will not relent.

  Realizing there are not enough witches here to stop me, the witches are forced to watch, helplessly, as I steal every last bit of their magic. Their power is in their life’s blood, and I am sucking it from them, leaving behind nothing but the mundane.

  I summon the moon, using her power to strengthen my spell, and she aids me feverishly, as though she has missed my nightly call. I have missed her too, and I know, when I am done and the spell has been cast, I will miss it even more than I do now. Because there is no going back. I will never again call upon her in this way. Our connection will be broken by my own h
ands.

  This spell is their punishment—and mine too. But I welcome it as my retribution for the many evil acts I have committed over my years hunting vampires. I do not think about how many innocents I have killed in the name of honor and protection. I accept my fate. This is the moment I take back my life, but in doing so, I must make my greatest sacrifice.

  I scream at the wind, squeezing my eyes shut as I shout. It now howls loudly all around us, and I can barely hear my own voice.

  I open my eyes, watching as the witches are swept away, succumbing to the fury of the elements. They fall to the ground, writhing, as the pieces of them that contain magic are ripped from their very souls. I will not deny that it brings me joy to know they are experiencing the pain they have caused me.

  The vampires stand in awe, unaffected by the spell that was not cast for them. I glance at Will, who looks on, a deep crease in his forehead, because unlike the others, he understands the cost of such a powerful spell. But this is all I have. This is all I can do to protect myself, to end this feud once and for all. To me, that cost is worth my life.

  When the spell has been cast and the world stills, I fall to my knees, relinquishing my hold over the elements. The magic I harnessed seeps back into the earth, tucking away, always near but forever out of reach.

  My heart is racing, my chest heaving, as I try to catch my breath. With the witches also experiencing similar agony, the vampires sheath their weapons. I do not need to announce that the battle is finally over for them to realize these witches are no longer a threat to us.

  Jasik rushes to my side, and I smile at him when he squats down beside me.

  “It is over,” I whisper.

  He frowns, not understanding the ramifications of what I just did, but I do. Will does. Holland will too. We will go home now, and I will tell him and the others what they can expect of me. I know they will be upset with me for casting a spell with such…finality. But they will forgive quickly with the intention of cherishing what little time we have left.