Dark Curse

by Danielle Rose

  With a huff, I stand, chest heaving, heart burning, forehead slick with sweat from overexertion. My legs are shaky as I stand, and when I reach the door, I still. My hand hovers over the knob, and I gnaw on my lip. Suddenly, I am terrified of what I might find beyond this threshold—or what might find me.

  “You can do this, Ava,” I whisper, still shaken. “You have your armor now.”

  I glance down, taking in my attire. I might be skinnier, but I look like the same Ava, save for the veins covering my pale skin, which seem much more prominent when I am not hiding beneath oversize sweaters. My jeans are tight and tucked into my boots. My low-cut top is partially obscured by my jacket, but it does little to hide my body the way sweaters do. The moment I exit this bedroom, everyone will see. Everyone will know. But somehow, I do not care about that anymore, because I know they need me. Jasik needs me.

  I exhale sharply, loudly, and I twist the handle, slowly exiting my room. My palm, which grips my stake, is drenched in sweat. I wipe it against my thigh. I am shaking so violently, I am certain our intruders will find me by that alone. The jingle in my bones, the thudding of my heart, will surely give away my location.

  I glance back down the hall. I am several feet away from my bedroom now. Sliding against the wall, I take slow, deliberate steps toward the stairs.

  I shriek when someone whips around the corner. The vampire ungracefully stumbles as she sees me, and she falls to the ground. She meets my gaze, her eyes wide with fear. Her face is splattered with blood, and she only looks at me for a second before she disappears in a blur.

  I cast my attention back on the hallway before me. I wait only a second, but I hear nothing. No one seems to be chasing her, so I continue stalking forward. Still shaking, I try to squeeze my stake tighter, thinking that might calm my jitters. It does not.

  When I reach the top landing of the stairs, I descend slowly. The noise from downstairs is much louder now, and while the sounds coming from the main level absolutely terrify me, it covers my own inner turmoil. So I welcome the screams, the thuds, the clear puff of a vampire combusting. Silently, I pray an enemy has fallen, not a comrade.

  I reach the first landing and quickly spin on my heels, stepping backward until my back is flush against the wall. I hold my stake before me, fisting it with two hands. It shakes violently beneath my grasp, my arms growing more tired with each passing second. Slowly, I lower my weapon but keep both hands wrapped around the handle. Again, my palms are slick with sweat, and I know I should wipe them before my stake slips free. But I do not.

  I take the first step, trudging slowly, only descending to the next when both feet are firmly planted on the first. It feels like an eternity passes by the time I am far enough down to peer into the sitting room.

  As I take another step, I miss the planks, stepping awkwardly on the edge, and I teeter forward, losing my footing and stumbling down several stairs. I fall into a heap at the final landing. Only a few steps are before me now. I stare up from where I sit, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

  I do not miss the surprise in my comrades’ eyes. But their surprise is quickly suppressed by another, less friendly emotion: annoyance. Now, they must protect me and the other vampires and themselves.

  I desperately want to help my friends. I want to protect the vampires and aid my allies. I watch, helplessly, as the others intercept every rogue vampire who spots me as easy prey.

  As one charges, Jasik leaps forward, ignoring the vampire he was fighting in order to save me. With the rogue easily distracted by my mere presence, Jasik kills him swiftly.

  My sire shoots me an angry glare, a silent order to go back upstairs, but I cannot move. Frozen in place, I watch as at least a dozen enemies terrorize everyone around them.

  So many are dead, with dust coating the air and a sheer layer atop the furniture, and so many are wounded. Vampires who never faced the strength and fury of a rogue are forced to battle to the death, often losing to the superior predator.

  Another is charging forward, but Jasik is nowhere to be seen. Lost in another room, likely cornered by even more attackers, he is gone, and I am alone. I look to the others for aid, but no one is close enough to save me. I must save myself.

  The rogue vampire pounces, landing effortlessly atop me. He corners me in this place, where I am crouched helplessly on the floor, and as he looks at me, drool oozes down his chin, splattering on my cheek. I feel nauseated as his spit seeps down the sharp curve of my jaw and splashes onto my chest, but I do not wipe it away. I keep my gaze focused solely on him.

  He looks at me the way a predator peers at prey. He knows I am not a threat to him. He does not see the witch or the vampire. He sees a human. He sees food.

  He drops to his knees, and I take this moment to thrust my stake forward. Grunting loudly, even with both hands and using every bit of energy I have, the tip of my stake barely penetrates his sternum. One thing I never considered during my trek downstairs is how naturally strong rogue vampires are. Their bones are like solid steel. Even with my weapon, I never had a chance.

  But as the vampire laughs and glances down at my feeble attempt to end his life, something happens. His eyes bulge from their sockets, and he releases a loud hiss before he combusts into ash. I cough, accidentally sucking in a sharp breath at the most inopportune time.

  With the rogue gone, and as my vision begins to clear, I see Jasik. He must have used that brief moment to finish what I could not, using his own strength to pierce the rogue’s heart with my stake. Jasik looks at me, still angry with my decision to disobey his order, before he turns and rejoins the fight.

  Now, more than ever, I realize I will never again feel safe. Not from the witches, not from rogue vampires, not from this evil inside of me. I will never be safe as long as I remain powerless.

  Chapter Six

  The rogue vampires are dead. I struggle to stand, hacking as I inhale ash. The air is hazy with particles that once formed our friends. We might have won this battle, but the cost leaves a heavy toll.

  The vampires who survived are weak and wounded, bloody from waging a war they know nothing about. The hunters aid their nestmates, caring for the injured with bags of human blood.

  I am still sitting on the final staircase landing. My bottom is planted firmly on the top step, and my feet dangle to the floor below. My elbows are resting against my thighs, and both my head and heart ache.

  I replay the battle over and over again, and though I see it play out in my mind, all that remains is my fear. I am far too reckless for someone so weak. I realized this too late. The moment I nearly lost to the rogue vampire, I had a revelation.

  I must complete the spell. I need my powers back. I am terrified of risking more magic, but I have no other choice. I am slowly losing my sanity, and as I slip further into the abyss, I will become more and more foolish with my actions. I may be only seventeen, but I must be wiser than this. The vampires deserve a champion, and lately, I am nothing more than a liability.

  I scan the sitting room for Will, my only hope to become normal again, finding him in the solarium. He is aiding another vampire who is bleeding from a deep gash across his chest. His T-shirt is soaked through, the deep crimson stain penetrating the thin fabric and seeping down his torso. My stomach churns at the sight.

  Will rips open a blood bag, spilling the precious healing elixir. He forces the opening into the vampire’s mouth. Our wounded comrade drinks greedily, and with each slurp, he begins to heal—slowly but surely. Eventually, he will be okay.

  The vampires are badly wounded, but those who made it this long will survive. Already, they are healing, and with the promise of fresh blood, they will be well again within a few hours. Tomorrow, it will be as if tonight’s battle never happened. That is the beauty of being undead. Every new day practically erases the previous day’s pitfalls. Their scars will mend, leaving nothing but sadness in their hearts as we mourn our losses.

  “Ava,” someone says, breaking my trance.


  I tear my gaze from Will to see Malik standing beside me. His face is dusted in ash, and he is sweating. Dark streaks of cremains mixed with sweat drip down his forehead and cheeks. It looks like a bad makeup job, like Malik was taking lessons from me on how to conceal unwanted memories. I can even see where he wiped the film from his eyes.

  My gaze trails his body. Malik is wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. The rogue vampires caught us off guard. Most of the vampires were just waking, probably more slowly than usual thanks to last night’s gathering with Will. The party meant they slept in later than usual, and our attackers used that to their advantage.

  The rogue vampires’ timing was perfect, and I can’t help but wonder how they managed to pick the most opportune time to attack. How did they know we would be weak at that exact moment? How did they know that was the perfect time to risk an attack on a well-established nest? And why? Why now? Why us? We have not had any issues with rogue vampires since we cast them from Darkhaven months ago.

  A tingle washes over my skin. It feels eerily like someone is watching me, but I brush off the sensation. Of course someone is watching me. Every vampire who survived the fight is staring at me as though this was my fault. Not being able to stand the accusations, I do not meet their gazes. I do not need them to make me feel even more responsible for this mess. If I was at my strongest, I might have been a real asset. Instead, I cowered in the corner, waiting to be saved like some pathetic damsel in distress.

  “Are you okay?” Malik asks.

  I blink several times, rooting myself back into this reality. I need to stop losing myself in my mind. Things here are more important. I might not have been an ally when the vampires attacked, but I will be one now.

  I nod, swallowing hard. My chest hurts, my head is throbbing, and my heart feels like it exploded hours ago. But I am okay. I survived—no thanks to me. If it were not for Jasik, I would have died today. I have always been rash in my choices, but I do not think I have ever been this risky before.

  What is wrong with me?

  Why do I feel like I have something to prove?

  I glance up, noticing how Malik’s gaze is focused on my chest. I look down to see what has caught his attention, sucking in a sharp breath as I stare at the tiny black veins coating my skin. They seem to have spread farther, wrapping themselves around my entire body, successfully squeezing the life from me. When I stare at them for too long, they move, so I look away, adjusting my jacket so it better covers my skin.

  “Ava,” someone else says. I glance over and watch as Amicia glides toward me as if she is floating, not walking. She moves so effortlessly, so confidently. I envy her fearlessness.

  “Amicia…” I whisper, feeling deep regret for having nearly ruined everything by thinking I was strong enough to join this fight. Some of her vampires likely died because Jasik was focused on protecting me. Their blood is on my hands, and my hands are already stained in red.

  As always, Amicia looks pristine and perfect, as if she were not just in the midst of a war. Dressed in tight black pants and a matching top, nothing about her looks as though she just battled to the death. Her hair is loose and flows around her shoulders, her eyes are lined with black liner, and her lips are painted with a deep-red shade of lipstick.

  In fact, the only thing that betrays her recent involvement in this battle is her hands. Her dark, smooth skin is coated in ash. Her black fingernails are caked with debris, likely the remnants of recently departed rogue vampires. The fact that Amicia can enter a battle and still look beautiful afterward shows just how powerful she truly is. I would kill for that strength, that confidence, that power.

  “You need to leave,” Amicia says bluntly.

  My heart drops to the floor. I do not look down, fearing I will find it splattered against the stairs. My chest feels hollow without its steady beats. My eyes swell, and my mouth runs dry.

  Leave? I can’t leave. I belong nowhere else. I have nowhere else to go.

  “Go to your room,” Amicia clarifies. “You are too great a temptation right now.”

  I glance past her, looking into the eyes of a dozen hungry vampires. The accusations I saw just moments ago are gone. No longer do I see hatred and blame. I see hunger. They are wounded, and I am human.

  Even the eyes of the hunters are distrusting. They too fear their primal, innate desires will overtake their common sense. I experienced those same fears when I transitioned. I know how much it hurts to control your urges when all you want to do is submit to them.

  “I hate this,” I whisper to myself. I am not speaking to anyone specifically, but I know everyone in the manor hears my admission.

  “Ava?” Will says, walking over confidently as he interrupts my conversations with the others. He left the wounded vampire to care for himself, because he sees my distress and has come to my aid, like any good friend would. “What is going on?”

  “I hate that I can’t even be around you guys without being nothing more than a temptation. A burden.”

  I meet Will’s gaze, and something settles between us. I do not have to ask him to follow me. I do not have to explain my interest in his knowledge of the reversal spell. The mere seconds of time that spans between us says everything I need to say. He nods sharply, and I stand. I walk away, retreating with Will following close behind.

  We enter my bedroom, and I slam the door shut behind us. The seconds that pass as we remain silent feel more like hours. There are so many things I want to ask him about this spell, but I know we do not have a lot of time. And I am scared. I am fearful of what this spell might require. Severing a black arts curse cannot be easy magic.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Will asks before I even have a chance to speak.

  I nod feverishly. “I can’t stand feeling this way. I am too weak to live in this world. Either I need to restore my powers, or I need to exit it completely.” I do not clarify what the latter part would entail, but I know Will understands me.

  “You are a lot of things, Ava, but weak is not one of them,” Will says.

  “You do not understand. You have your powers back. You do not know what it is like to sit here, fearing for your life as a rogue vampire drools all over your face and licks his lips. You do not know the mind-numbing fear that wraps around you when you know you are about to die. It was suffocating, Will. Everything about that battle was painful. I was forced to sit and watch as others risked their lives to protect me. Me. A former hybrid. One of the most powerful creatures on the planet! I should have been an asset, not a risk.”

  I am pacing my room, shouting even though I know the vampires downstairs can hear me. They are involuntarily eavesdropping due to my volume, listening as I confide in Will my deepest insecurities and worst regrets. But I do not care about them. I only care about the spell, about returning to my former self.

  “I can’t feel this way anymore,” I confide. “I can’t do nothing while my friends are butchered in front of me.”

  Will nods. “Okay. We can do the spell. Holland has already said he will help. We were just waiting for you to agree.”

  I swallow hard, my pulse suddenly racing. I still do not know what it entails, and I am terrified to ask. I figure this is one of those moments when knowing too many details will work against me, so instead of asking about the ritual, I make a confession.

  “I am scared.”

  “I know,” Will says.

  He walks over to me and takes my hands, bringing my palms to rest against his chest. I look up at him, staring in awe at how wonderful he has been these past several weeks. Will has given up his life to help me restore my powers. He has known me only a fraction of the time, yet he has shown me more devotion than my own mother.

  “I promise everything will be okay,” Will says softly.

  His crimson irises are bright and big, and they do not hide his fear, even as it mirrors my own. I know he is happy that I have decided to partake in this ritual, but it comes at a cost. Everything in Darkhav
en comes at a cost.

  “Is it dangerous?” I ask, silently begging him to lie to me.

  “Isn’t all magic dangerous in some way?” Will says, avoiding my question.

  “And you are sure you can complete the ritual?” I ask. My mouth runs dry as I wait for his response.

  “With Holland’s help, yes.”

  I sigh heavily, sharply, and then I inhale long and slow. I take deep breaths, steadying my nerves, readying myself for this next moment. Because after this, nothing will ever be the same.

  I meet Will’s gaze again, and this time, I am determined. I do not speak, and nothing about my actions betrays just how frightened I truly am. Once again, I agree to submit myself in every way to magic.

  “Tomorrow. We complete the spell tomorrow.”

  The night air is cool against my skin. It is nearly spring, but winter has yet to make way for warmth. The snow is melting, but at night, when the temperature drops, what has melted freezes over. Now, Darkhaven is coated in a frozen layer of murky sludge. This is not exactly prime ritual weather, especially considering my inability to withstand the frigid temperatures.

  I shiver as a cold breeze assaults my nearly nude body. I am dressed in a traditional Wiccan cloak. It is ruby red and stands out beside the dark night sky. Beneath my robe, I am wearing only a sports bra and spandex shorts. The ritual calls for me to be sky-clad, but I refused. It is far too cold for me to be completely naked.

  Holland and Will are dressed similarly. They both wear matching ruby-colored robes, and they are topless beneath them. When they move, I see their toned chests. Will seems unaffected by the bitter temperature, but Holland is clearly as affected as I am. His cheeks look raw, his nose pink, and his eyes are watery.