Dark Curse

by Danielle Rose

  “How so?” I ask, still unsure of what Will means. I can tell he is on the brink of forcing an epiphany. Usually I am not interested in his wise ways, but today is different. Seeing my friends celebrate my life, especially when I am not sure I even have good news to share, only makes me feel like I am slipping further away from everything I once knew.

  “I know they used to be in a relationship,” Will says. “That was always obvious by the way they would argue. They were snippy, personally so. The way exes are.”

  “And?” I ask, suddenly intrigued by where this might be going.

  “And now look at them. They act like they haven’t been feuding for, what, the past several years?”

  “I suppose death brings that out in people,” I say, finally understanding where Will might be taking this conversation.

  Death changes you. When people find out they do not have many days left, they act differently. They love harder, they forgive easier, and they are kind to strangers. When onlookers witness death firsthand, it affects them too, even if they are not the one slipping away. Watching as I grow sicker by the day is affecting the vampires. I am just grateful one positive thing has come out of my sacrifice.

  “Death has nothing to do with this, Ava,” Will counters. “You brought this out of them.”

  “I guess I did.”

  Will nods. “They looked at your situation and realized how precious life is, how they have been wasting the days they were granted by prolonging the inevitable—reuniting.”

  “Are you saying I am wasting my life?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “I think you are, yes,” Will says plainly.

  “Or maybe I am taking a bullet for the team,” I counter.

  “We are immortal, Ava. Let us take that bullet for you.”

  When Will looks at me, his eyes are heavy. I know he is tired from his travels, but the emotion there is true—and it is for me. Will feels the very same connection that I feel when he is around. It is complicated but true.

  I wonder if he has ever felt this way before. Am I the first hybrid he has ever met? Everything happened so quickly after he found me. I never had the opportunity to ask him about his life before the witches went and messed up everything.

  “I know you are scared,” Will says. “And I promised Amicia I would not push you, but—”

  “But you are a liar?” I say, grinning.

  “She asks a lot from me,” Will says, “but she must know by now that my loyalty is not to her.”

  Will meets my gaze, and we sit in silence for a long time as his words settle over me. I swallow hard.

  “I hope you know I am loyal to you too,” I whisper.

  “I know you are—stubbornly and annoyingly so. You will not even let me take the fall for this one when I am clearly better suited for this burden.”

  I roll my eyes and look back at the party. Jeremiah is holding Holland now, and they both sway side to side to music no one hears but them. I smile, hoping if I stare long enough, I can burn the image of them into my brain. I want to see them this happy for the rest of the time I have here.

  “I will not force you to complete the reversal spell, because it is only right that you make the choice for yourself. But I think you are an idiot for not even trying.”

  I snort. “Thanks.”

  “I know you are confused, so let me say just this last bit. Then I will never bring it up again. I know you are scared because we have to dabble in dark magic to sever your link. I know that worries you, and I know that is the only reason you will not try. Before you make an impulsive decision based on fear alone, stop. Think. You need to figure out who you are, who you want to be. That is when you will know if you should sever this link or bear the consequences.”

  “I am just not sure if it is worth the risk,” I admit.

  “You are worth it, Ava. You are worth every risk. Do not ever forget that.”

  After a few silent minutes pass, I am thoroughly tired of talking about the spell, but I know he will not let me off so easily. I remember Will’s earlier emotions, so I decide to turn the tables on him.

  “Why don’t you ever talk about your past life?” I ask.

  He shrugs, remaining silent. I expected this reaction, but he has gotten to know me well over the past several weeks. He should know I will not give up this easily.

  “You don’t think that is actually going to silence me, do you?” I ask.

  Will smiles but does not look my way. He keeps his gaze focused on the vampires before us. No one pays us any attention, and I think he likes it that way. I know I do.

  “You are headstrong and persistent, so…no.”

  “Tell me something,” I beg. “Anything at all. Tell me about your life before you became a vampire or your trip just yesterday.”

  “I became a vampire a long time ago, Ava. Like it is for most, it was not a pleasant experience,” Will admits. “I do not care to relive that moment by sharing it now.”

  “Was it as bad as my transition?” I snort, not expecting a real answer.

  “Worse,” Will admits quietly.

  I narrow my gaze, trying to assess his emotions. He does not look at me, and I have to wonder if he is just trying to silence me.

  “How could it have been worse?” I ask.

  “You could have lost everyone in that single moment.”

  I did, I think but remain silent.

  “Believe it or not, I understand why you would not want to be a vampire again,” Will says. “Sure, we are basically superheroes without the ugly costumes, but we are lonely. Most of us do not have these fancy parties or a nest full of vampires who consider us family. We do not have a home or a sire to love. We are forced to walk this earth without any real family. We live alone, we stick to the shadows, and we try to live out days unseen. Most do not have the luxury of a friend.”

  Terrified speaking will only make Will realize the personal details he is sharing with me, I swallow the knot in my throat and wait for him to continue. The silence that stretches over us feels endless, and I worry he might never speak about this again. But I can’t let him stop here. I have to know more. I have to know who Will is. Deep down, he carries a heaviness with him, and it is destroying my heart to know he is in such pain.

  “If I were in your situation, I would not want my powers back either. I would live my days as a human, maybe actually meet someone who can relate to me now that I am not constantly craving her blood.”

  “Then why do you want me to sever the link and reverse my spell?” I ask, confused. The question bursts from me before I realize I am even speaking, and I groan internally, worrying Will might clam up now that I have spoken.

  “Because I am selfish and weak. That is all I have ever been.”

  “You are not weak, Will. You are not even selfish. You single-handedly helped me try to locate Liv when no one else would. You did not know her. You owed her nothing, yet you risked your life to help me locate her. That is not something a selfish person would do.”

  Will smiles. “You only see the good side of me. You do not see the side that is desperate not to lose you. I finally found someone who understands what it is like to be…different. Not human. Not witch. Not vampire. But something else. And I am terrified I will lose you, and I will be alone again. I want you to complete the ritual, but that does not mean you should. I mean, and I hate to say this because I worry it will influence your decision, but I would not do it if I were you.”

  I think about what Will says, about how hard that admission must have been for him. I understand what it feels like to feel so utterly devoted to someone, you would die for him or her. When I think too hard about my feelings for Jasik, that is what I sense. Unrelenting, unstoppable, uncontainable devotion. And it scares me.

  “But that is the difference between you and me,” Will says. “I do not want this life. I can tell you do. You have all this…” He nods at the vampires mingling in the other room. “Look around, Ava. There are dozens of
vampires here. All of them would probably die for you. You have a family. You have the one thing I have searched this earth for but failed to find.”

  “I am sorry,” I whisper.

  Will frowns. “Why are you sorry? It is not your fault that my life is like this.”

  “But it is…” I say.

  “How? You did not bite me. You did not leave me to watch as you murdered my entire coven while I went through the agonizing transition. You did not leave me to wake alone, to come to terms both with my change and the loss of my family in the same horrible minute. Nothing about my pathetic life is your fault.”

  “The vampire was suppressed,” I whisper. “Hikari killed Liv in order to help me, and in doing so, she sacrificed your freedom from darkness. If she did not—”

  “If she did not, I would not have been revived. If I was not a hybrid right now, I would not have been able to travel the world, and I would not have discovered the reversal spell that you need to find yourself again.”

  I shake my head, realizing there is no point in arguing. Will and I will never agree on where to place the blame. I feel responsible for everything that has happened until this point, even if he refuses to see it the way I do.

  “Look at me, Ava. I would change nothing, absolutely nothing, about the past couple of months. I searched for another hybrid every day since I transitioned, and when I finally found one, I clung on to her. I never had any intention of leaving you behind. I knew the vampires would trust me in time, and I knew you would too. I regret nothing about our encounter and the events that occurred after. You should not either.”

  “I wish things could be different for you,” I admit.

  “Me too. In all my travels, I have met some pretty powerful witches. I might have found a way to sever that link so you can reverse the spell and restore your powers, but I have not found the key to what I really want.”

  “And what is that?” I ask.

  “A cure.”

  I frown. “A cure? To vampirism?”

  “Well, I would settle for a spell so I can trade places with you.”

  “You mean you want to sit back and wait as you lose your sanity? Or do you mean you want to walk in my shoes because I am surrounded by all of them?” I ask, glancing at the vampires.

  “Both,” Will says, chuckling.

  “Family can make you crazy,” I agree.

  We both sit in silence, watching as the vampires flutter about, talking, laughing, indulging in another day that is the most recent in a string of endless days on their timeline. Tomorrow, they will do the same. And the next day. And the next.

  They watch me as I waste away, but do they really see me? Do they see how close I am to the edge? Do they know how lucky they are to have the one thing I would kill for?

  Time.

  I just need more time—time to think, time to plan, time to live. I might be ready to take that bullet for them, but that does not mean I would not postpone the inevitable if given the opportunity. If I had the choice to die today or die tomorrow, I would choose tomorrow and spend today with them.

  The irony is that I once had the time I now crave. Now, time is fleeting. I think about Will’s advice. The clock is ticking, and I need to decide what I want in life.

  Do I want to be a vampire again?

  Am I strong enough to participate in the ritual and fight off the evil lurking inside me?

  I like to think so.

  I think I can beat it.

  Just as I firmly determine that this evil will never be strong enough to overtake my soul, that I will always come out the winner in this fight for my survival, the evil twisting within my gut springs to life.

  And inside me, the darkness laughs.

  Chapter Five

  My bedroom is dark and cold. Everything about this house used to invite me in, from the mere sight of it to the way it sounded, the way it smelled. But with each day that passes, I become more disconnected from the creatures who call this place home.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, pretending it does not bother me that I left the party early. The gathering downstairs is loud, and voices echo through the halls all the way upstairs. Everyone is celebrating life, cursing death, and welcoming Will into their innermost circle, yet he admits that he feels as lonely as I do right now.

  He is cursed to spend an eternity without a partner who truly understands him.

  And so am I.

  We are so similar, yet so different, so separated from everything we cherish. He yearns for a family, for a place in this world, and even though I have one, even though I have everything he is searching for, I still feel as out of place as he does.

  I sigh heavily, allowing myself to sink a little farther into my bed. I am thinner now, and when I look at my skeletal frame in the mirror, I notice prominent arches from bones I have never seen before. I always knew they were there, of course, but my muscles were always hiding these breakable parts of me. Not anymore, even though I am still supposed to be protected by muscle and strength.

  Now, knowing how vulnerable I am, I wince when someone moves too quickly around me. I am forever fearing the inevitable assault and snap of bones that are in desperate need of nourishment, even though I eat. A lot. I eat so often, I am actually sick of eating, which is a feeling I never knew existed. But every ounce of food I consume never seems to strengthen my body. It is as though the darkness within me consumes the calories, spitting them out long before I am given the opportunity to indulge as well.

  I wrap my arms around myself as a burst of cool air brushes against my skin. I shiver, glancing up. My ceiling fan is forever swirling above me, regardless of how cold it might be outside or inside. Before, I welcomed the different sensations the fan caused. I liked the whooshing sound it made and the tingle of the air against my skin. Now, I only keep it on for the white noise. Every creak, every sniffle, every mumbled breath is a stark reminder of my difference. And I hate it.

  A sharp knock against my bedroom door has me jolting upright. I know I have nothing to fear. No one could enter this house and bypass the flock of vampires downstairs without alerting them to an intruder’s presence. I am safe here. The vampires will protect me. Still, I cannot calm my racing heart. Every sudden change leaves me with one staggering impulse: run.

  I stand so quickly, I become dizzy. Blood rushes to my head, blurring my vision. I wobble, waiting until the feeling subsides. Sometimes it feels like that wave of uneasiness never goes away. It is always there, haunting me, reminding me of how things used to be, of how I will never again walk this earth. Even in times of clarity, that sensation is still there. The only difference is I have gotten used to living with that sickness.

  “Come in,” I shout as I use the footboard to steady myself. I blink away my blurred vision, trying to focus on my visitor instead of the throbbing in my head.

  Jasik enters, one hand grasping the doorknob, the other hiding something behind his back. The moment he sees me, he frowns. His brow furrows, his eyes grow heavy. I hate when he sees me in these moments of weakness, and I imagine he does not care for it either. Every day, he is reminded that I am not the girl he sired so many moons ago.

  “I am fine,” I say, answering his silent question. I pray he will not push further. I am not in the mood to discuss my feelings. I came to my bedroom for peace, not torture.

  I glance down, trying to sneak a peek. I can tell he is hiding something behind him by the way he awkwardly maneuvers through the doorway.

  I squint, trying not to think about the fact that I have to squint to see him, even though he is only feet from me. I appreciate times like this, when I have something to focus on other than my doom.

  “I have something for you,” Jasik says.

  I smile widely, suddenly overjoyed. These moments, when I can forget about how the world is slowly crashing down all around me, are the ones I replay over and over again at night, when I am trying to sleep and only want to see the good parts from my life now. I fear closing my eyes, nev
er knowing if I will be offered serenity or a nightmare, and I am hopeful tonight will bring me a cherished memory to loop.

  I hold out my arms, pumping my hands into fists over and over again, silently telling Jasik to give me whatever it is. Like a child, I have no patience. I want my present now.

  “Gimme,” I croon, smiling. “Gimme! Gimme!”

  My reaction makes him smile, and I take in his appearance as he approaches me. Jasik is tall, leanly built, with boyish charms even though he is centuries older than I am. He died in his early twenties, so he will forever remain in that mid-stage appearance, when he can pass for a kid in his late teens but still might con his way into a bar.

  Jasik ushers for me to meet him on the side of the bed, and I quickly prance over. I plop down, letting my legs dangle over the side. I sway side to side, bursting with energy as Jasik slowly approaches me, a sly grin across his face. He is enjoying this moment, taking his time as he strolls to my side.

  As he motions to sit down beside me, he tells me to close my eyes. I obey. When I dare a peek, I find him sitting still, silently watching me with his mouth curved into a grin.

  “I know you better than you know yourself,” Jasik jokes.

  Rolling my eyes, I grumble and squeeze my eyes shut tightly so he knows I will not chance a peek again. Still, he makes me wait. The grandfather clock in the hallway ticks loudly, and I find myself swaying to its beat. Only when I feel Jasik place something on my lap do I open my eyes.

  A large, rectangular, black box is resting against my lap. Jasik is holding the outer edge so that it remains upright and does not spill onto the floor. I grab on to the edges, prompting him to release it. I feel his gaze on me as I assess the box, trying to decipher the contents before opening it. This is the best part about receiving gifts. The guessing game, finding out if you were right—these are the things that make gift giving and receiving so exciting.

  As I stare at my present, I think about the last time I received a gift, but I cannot think of a time. Every year, around my birthday, my mother would surprise me with breakfast and homemade tres leches cake, a traditional Spanish milk cake, but that was it. She always told me she never gave me presents because she did not want me to be reliant on material treasures.