Dark Secret

by Danielle Rose

I fight to wake, to stand, to scream, to do something, anything at all. But I can’t. I’m trapped inside my body, an unyielding shell that withstands my internal protests.

  “And when she does, we’ll send her on her way. You’re all not welcome here,” Mamá says.

  My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach, which grumbles from hunger.

  “Just relax. We won’t bite,” someone else says. I don’t recognize his voice, but I’m sure he came with the other vampire.

  The vampire’s joke makes me cringe. I’m sure he thinks it’s funny, but all I can think about is sinking my stake into his chest. The metal would slide through him with such ease, like a knife through warm butter.

  My heart beats faster; the stammering noise makes it hard to concentrate on the conversation happening around me.

  I focus all my energy into moving my hand. It’s nearly impossible…until it isn’t. My arm twitches. My eyelids shoot open. My back arches as my muscles spasm, and I let out an uncontrollable screech that nearly shakes the house to its foundation.

  I am no longer in control of my body as it transitions from mortal to immortal, from creature of the day to beast of the night.

  My muscles tense, and I flop around like a fish in search of water. My chest constricts, nearly caving in, and I release a loud bellow. My voice doesn’t sound like my own.

  I feel…different. Lighter. Stronger.

  The pain is excruciating, and I’m unsure how long I’ll be on this limbo plane. I sense my body moving, but I can’t stop it. It moves on its own, and I wonder if I’ll be like this forever. Am I cursed to forever feel unlike myself?

  But then everything stops. The pain diminishes, my muscles loosen, and my mind clears. It’s an ecstatic sensation unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

  The door to my bedroom flings open, and I find myself off my bed and backing away from him until I’m flush against the wall. His crimson irises burn brightly. This is the man who was supposed to be my savior. I don’t know him. In fact, prior to tonight, I’ve never seen him before. I don’t know why he was in Darkhaven when the other vampires attacked us, and I don’t know why he tried to help us. Vampires aren’t supposed to be friendly with witches.

  Slowly, he walks toward me. Time slows as he approaches. Palms against the cool walls, I dig my nails into the drywall and growl. He takes another step closer, his scent wafting toward me. He smells like cinnamon and blood. It’s an oddly delicious mixture that makes my stomach ache.

  Several figures enter behind the vampire, crowding me, cornering me. A drip of drool dribbles down my chin as the scent from my bloodstained clothes reaches my nose. The air is thick and heavy as we sit in silence. The scent of fresh meat mingles in the air, causing my stomach to grumble.

  “You should leave,” the vampire says. He turns to face the witches, who are also on guard. This brief moment, when his eyes are turned away from me, is all I need.

  Fangs exposed, I lunge forward. I reach for the vampire’s throat, clawing my way through flesh. He’s strong, maybe too strong, so I smack my fists against him until he’s flying across the room and slamming into the group behind him.

  I set my sights on the next closest thing: a witch. And not just any witch. Mamá.

  I know it’s wrong. I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t stop. I’m too hungry. My belly feels like an acidic pit, and it’s bubbling over. It must be sated.

  “Stop, mija!” Mamá cries, but her plea falls upon deaf ears.

  Before I can reach her, I am thrown backward into the far wall. Framed pictures shatter against the floor beside me. I jump to my feet and am met by another witch. Her stretched-out arm is all that separates the distance between us. She draws her index and middle fingers out just as a warrior would draw a sword upon her enemies.

  I smile and inhale deeply, licking my lips. She smells like herbs. She smells like food.

  “Please don’t make me hurt you, Ava,” the witch says. “Listen to my voice. You can fight this.”

  She doesn’t know that I can’t. She doesn’t understand—none of them do. I don’t want to hurt them, but the pungent bite of hunger is in my gut. It stings at my innards until there’s nothing but gooey remnants of my past good intentions.

  Furrowing my brow, I release another powerful growl, and the monster within me leaves me with no other options. I take a step forward, and the witch yanks her fingers into her palm before instantly throwing them out again.

  Her powerful air magic pins me to the wall, but I don’t have to withstand her fury for long.

  My vampire savior steps before me, grabbing my arms and slamming my body against the wall. Angry, confused, and starving, I stare at his neck. He’s close—too close. A thick, protruding vein is only one bite away. My fangs lengthen instinctively, and my muscles loosen beneath his grasp. I no longer wish to escape him.

  “Control yourself,” he orders. “You are the master of your hunger, not the other way around.”

  He relaxes his grip, and I fall against him. I wrap my arms around him and relish in the feeling of his soft tresses against my palms. I bury my nose into the crevice of his neck, inhaling slowly, deeply. His scent overwhelms me. There’s something familiar about it, about him.

  “Jasik…” someone whispers.

  The cautionary voice breaks my trance. I focus on the vampire’s sputtering heart as I wrap my arms tighter around him. Blood pumps faster in his veins, teasing me, testing me. He groans as I place the tips of my fangs against the soft skin of his neck. I don’t apply force because I want him to beg me to bite him. And I’m confident he will.

  “Fight it,” the concerned bystander shouts.

  “We’ll feed soon,” another says.

  Irritated, I glance toward the speakers. Three vampires, mere feet from us, stand strong beside the witches, beside their mortal enemies. Everyone’s attention is on me and on the vampire in my arms.

  He tries to pull away, but I yank him back to me. He is powerless beneath my grip; the control I have over his life is euphoric. I glance up, meeting his gaze. We’re breathing the same air. We’re so close, our lips nearly touch, and my world spins.

  In one swift motion, he twists my arms, releasing himself from my grasp, spinning free until he can take several steps backward.

  I’m spun completely around until I’m facing the opposite direction. It’s an uneasy feeling to have my back turned to everyone in the room. Something in me sparks. A warning. The predator within me doesn’t like to be in this vulnerable state.

  My gaze settles on the full-length body mirror in the corner of my bedroom. I’m staring at my reflection so intensely, I don’t realize the vampire is behind me, and even when I notice him there, I don’t care that he’s too close for comfort. I only care about the girl in the mirror.

  “You mustn’t lose yourself to the hunger,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

  A pang of desire creeps through my body as I admire his closeness. I push it down, disgusted.

  “Look at yourself,” he says, his breath tickling my earlobe.

  My brown hair hangs raggedly at my shoulders. My frame is toned, defined, and my complexion is clear, pale. My eyes are no longer their natural plain dark-brown color. They are bright crimson, almost neon in shade. My entire appearance, from my disheveled look to my glowing eyes, is jarring.

  I eliminate the space between the mirror and me and place my palms and the tip of my nose against the glass. The girl who stands before me is no one I recognize. Through lacy puffs of exhalations, her figure disappears and reappears as my breath clouds my reflection in the mirror before I turn to scan my bedroom.

  A cluttered desk sits in the corner. Yellowed photos and rusted medals from my former life sit atop the chipped wood table. It feels like a lifetime has passed since I was that girl.

  Bundles of crumpled clothes are piled on the floor, and a sheetless bed is positioned between two big windows. Everything about this room feels familiar yet foreign. It’s as if I
suddenly don’t belong in the place I’ve always called home.

  Bile creeps its way into my throat, and I swallow it down. I remember everything from the night before—asking the vampire to save my life by changing me, the fight, the fear. I remember death.

  “Were there casualties?” I ask Mamá, ignoring the overwhelming sensation to rip out her throat. My stomach is burning, so I squeeze my palms shut and focus on the pain in my hands rather than the one in my gut.

  “Yes, and they were severe,” she replies slowly. Her gaze trails down my frame. She looks…distant, unsure…afraid. She’s afraid of me, her daughter. She’s afraid of what I’ve become. It pains me to see her hesitant even to speak to me, her own flesh and blood.

  Blood.

  My breath catches at the sound of blood moving through her veins. The rushing sensation is all around me, enveloping me. I lick my lips and close my eyes.

  Breathe. Just breathe. I focus on each inhalation. One in. One out.

  Someone grabs on to my hand, interlocking fingers with my own. Smiling, I open my eyes, expecting to see Mamá beside me, trusting me that I would never hurt her or our coven members.

  But he is there. The vampire looks down at me. His lips form a hard line in a fake, forced smile. I rip my hand from his grasp before quickly bringing it up again and thrusting, landing a blow squarely in the center of his chest. He flies through the air with the ease of a feather blowing in the breeze.

  “Don’t touch me!” I shout. The vampire has already landed against the far wall. He’s standing and dusting off his shirt. He moves quickly, effortlessly, like he’s been around long enough to perfect his vampire reflexes.

  “Ava, I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

  His words seem sincere. Every fiber of my being wants to trust him, to take his hand, to believe I will be okay. But I know the truth. I’m a vampire now. I’m never going to be okay. My coven will disown me. Even if there were such a thing as a tame vampire, they would never allow me to stay here with them. They wouldn’t risk it.

  I failed them. How could I give up so easily? I failed my coven the moment I practically begged to be turned into a vampire. Now I’m going to be hunted by those I’ve spent my life protecting.

  “You’ll feel better once you’ve fed,” he says. “Your mind will clear.”

  He speaks to me as if we are the only two in the room. His eyes, like his tone, are sincere. I don’t understand why, but I believe he cares for me. He wants to protect me. Somehow, we’ve bonded in a way I’ll probably never accept or understand.

  I think back to my hours of preparation for the ritual. Deep down, I knew the vampires were there, watching, waiting in the woods. I felt them. They were close enough to make me feel physically ill. I blamed those sensations on nerves, but in reality, spirit was warning me of my impending doom.

  “Mamá…please don’t make me leave,” I whisper.

  “Ava López,” she responds, her voice quivering and tears forming behind her eyes.

  My heart nearly stops as I wait for her to pass down sentencing. Regardless of whether or not a witch chooses to become a vampire, the sentence is always the same: death.

  With everyone’s eyes on me, I stand tall to show onlookers that I’m strong enough to accept my sentence. After all, I would have died to protect my coven. How is this any different?

  “I hereby relinquish your duty to this coven. You are no longer a member, nor are you family. Due to your previous status in this coven, I will grant you two minutes. Say your goodbyes, gather your things, and leave.”

  The seconds tick by as I process her words. The strokes of the hallway grandfather clock echo all around me.

  Tears burn as I nod in response. But she is not sentencing me to death, and this will cost her later. When our high priestess discovers Mamá’s weakness, she will pay for her leniency.

  “Should you not be gone within two minutes, we will release our full power on you.”

  She stops speaking, and I wait for her to finish. But she says nothing. She can’t actually say the words aloud. She can’t say that she will kill me, her only daughter.

  The witches around her tense. Are they worried she will order them to kill me? Do they want to? I’m no longer family.

  I’m a threat.

  I shuffle into my bathroom and close the door behind me. Neatly folded clothes are piled atop the counter, placed there hours ago by me so I could easily change out of my ritual gown. I dress quickly, stripping off the cloak and dressing in my usual black combat attire. I slide on my boots and grab my toiletries.

  When I walk back into my room, the witches and vampires are still standing in the same spot. No one has moved, and everyone is clearly uneasy about the situation. I imagine they’re all counting the seconds.

  I say nothing as I quickly fill my bag with enough clothes to last me several days and then stop at my dresser, tossing the sleek black box that contains my stake into the bag. I open my jewelry box and remove the necklace Papá gave me, dropping it into my bag without touching the metal cross. I may not be able to wear it anymore, but I still want it with me.

  I glance around the room. My pictures are a shattered mess on the floor. My books from online classes are in stacks on my desk. Dirty and clean clothes are in piles on the floor. What else should I take?

  “Ava, we must leave,” my vampire savior says.

  I sniffle as I walk over to my photo album. Quickly, I shove it into my bag. I zip it closed and throw the strap over my shoulder. Everything I have left in my life is tucked away in a medium-sized travel bag I bought from a secondhand tote store.

  My two minutes are nearly up, and Mamá is likely paranoid I’ll miss my deadline. But I won’t. I’d never force her to choose between me and her duty as the high priestess’s daughter-in-law.

  I scan my room one final time, my gaze landing on each witch in a silent goodbye. Most won’t even meet my gaze. When my eyes land on a familiar set of crimson irises, I trudge closer to him. In a room full of enemies, this vampire might be my only ally. His eyes beckon to me as if he’s silently asking me to trust him.

  I rush from my room and take the stairs two at a time. My deadline expires the moment I pass the threshold and greet the outside air, its cool breeze refreshing against my skin. I beg for it to blow away the fear, doubt, and pain that cloud my mind.

  With only the slightest inhalation, I am discovering new scents. From flowers to meat and rust to salt, I smell the world as if life is sprawled on a platter before me. But it’s so much more than that. I can feel it. Life that drives nature enters my senses and flows through me. It’s as if I can tap into Mother Earth’s energy and harness it as my own.

  “You show an impressive level of control I’ve yet to see in a newborn,” the vampire says.

  I don’t respond. I’m not exactly thankful that I excel at being a vampire.

  “I’m Jasik,” he continues.

  Again, I don’t know what to say. He knows my name. Maybe I should tell him I don’t want to go with him, but where else can I go? I don’t have any other options. If I stay behind, the witches will kill me. If I go out alone, I might hurt someone. Whether I like it or not, I need the vampires. I need them to teach me how to be one, how to control my urges. If I can prove to my coven that I’m not a danger to them…I could become the ultimate hunter. They might accept me then.

  “We need to get back. The sun’s rising soon,” another vampire says.

  He glances at me, jaw clenched. I feel vulnerable under his stare. He doesn’t look at me with wonder or curiosity or lust. He looks at me with…fear. Or is it disgust and hatred I see behind his thick lashes? Quickly, he turns away to join the other two vampires.

  It feels odd to be among them. I feel vulnerable yet safe. My innate hatred for them is tinged with curiosity.

  “That’s Malik, my brother.”

  I glance back at my house. My gaze lingers on my bedroom window. Mamá stands beside the curtain, watching me before q
uickly stepping out of view. I want to call out to her and beg her to let me stay, but leaving is my only option. My coven will never be safe with me around unless I learn to control my hunger.

  I kick a stone with my foot, watching it bounce against the concrete, stopping once it reaches a patch of grass. The pavement’s vibrations rattle through my body as the stone glides against it.

  Glancing up from the ground, I watch as two teenagers approach us. The boy has his arm around the back of the girl’s neck, pulling her close to him. She smiles as he does this, probably enjoying the safety he provides—not realizing that there are monsters in this world far stronger than he could ever imagine.

  I examine his physique as a scientist would in a laboratory. His arms and chest are tightly bound by his T-shirt. Thin white lines dance across his pale skin. Stretch marks. The closer we become, the more I see. Goose bumps cover his skin; fine hairs stand on end. The air was cool during the ritual, but I don’t feel chilly now. I feel the breeze but not the cold.

  They are just a few feet in front of us now. His shirt seems to become tighter and tighter the closer we get. I wonder if he takes steroids.

  Time slows as they pass. The wind picks up, blowing their scent into my open and willing nostrils. I lick my lips, my tongue sticking to dry parts of skin.

  Shutting my eyes, I swallow hard as my throat begins to close. Its dryness is painful, scratchy. When I open my eyes again, my fangs are exposed, and I am just steps behind the humans. I don’t know how I got there, and I don’t care. An arm’s length is all that separates them from death, from me. Just before I can leap at them from behind, I am yanked backward.

  “Remember who you are.” Jasik’s voice is stern, controlling. I am shocked that he even cares. Vampires are murderers. Why would he stop me?

  Looking up, I meet his eyes. I don’t understand why he stopped me, but I’m thankful he did. Remembering who I am is becoming more and more difficult as the night progresses. Jasik’s proximity feels oddly intimate, making my skin burn. My fangs retract, and I pull away from my captor, horrified at my newfound hunger.

  I shake my head and wrap my body in my arms. In that moment, I didn’t care if I took that teenager’s life. I lost control. I wanted to kill—I was ready to kill. But I didn’t feel like a killer. I just felt hungry.