Dark Secret

by Danielle Rose

  Someone stands over me, blocking my view of the moon. Moonlight shines brightly behind the figure, distorting my vision so I can’t clearly see who it is.

  “Jasik?” I whisper. My head is throbbing. I wince when I try to see him better and only succeed in scraping my wound against the hard-packed ground.

  The voice that escapes my throat doesn’t sound like my own. It’s weak; it breaks. I need to be stronger than this. I need to survive. I didn’t risk becoming a vampire just so I could die here tonight.

  The figure steps to the side, and I first notice a familiar set of crimson irises. A tall vampire hovers over me. His broad shoulders make it hard to see anything but his overly muscular body.

  His cold eyes contrast against his dark skin. He’s confident as he smiles down at me. I remember his shaved head, his smooth skin, and his long, deadly fangs. I remember the pain when they pierced my untouched neck. It was earth-shattering and shook me to my core.

  This is him. The vampire who stole my life, who attacked my coven, who killed my friends. He stands before me as if he has no worry in the world.

  Maybe it’s time I give him one.

  “Hello, Ava,” he says.

  I thrust my legs upward, striking him between the legs. He stumbles backward, cursing. I repeat the move, this time hitting him in the torso. He falls backward. One final time, I thrust my weight onto my arms and pounce upward so I now stand while he lies on the ground.

  He laughs a hearty full bellow. “I’m impressed.”

  He mirrors my move and effortlessly propels himself forward so he can jump to his feet.

  “Ava!”

  Jasik shouts for me, and I can hear everything he’s begging of me from that one word. He wants me to be careful, to come to the others for aid, but I am blinded by my hatred and in desperate need of revenge.

  I’m overrun with blood-soaked vengeance. My head aches, but I don’t care. I’m not even worried if the injury is deadly—so long as I can bring my new friend with me.

  The weight of my stake tucked safely in the confines of my jacket is comforting. Over the course of my long career in hunting vampires, I’ve perfected the ability to pull it out and use it faster than even a vampire’s heightened senses can keep up with my movements. The stake was my only defense against the vampires.

  Sometimes I won because I was better. Other times I won because vampires are too cocky. Occasionally it was just blind luck on my side. But tonight, I will win because this debt is owed to me. I’ve spent my life protecting the earth, and it’s time Mother Nature pays her dues.

  “Do you know what I like about you?” the rogue vampire asks.

  “Is it my sparkling personality?” I respond.

  He smiles. “I do appreciate your wit, but it’s your drive that appeals to me. Even when everything is against you, you stubbornly proceed. You charge, full force and without brains, toward your desire. You simply won’t allow yourself to fail. Even now, you don’t care about your friends. You only care about your revenge.” He speaks slowly, emphasizing each word. They wrap around me, cocooning me, suffocating me. He’s right. I haven’t even considered how my nest-mates are faring.

  I tear my gaze from the vampire and search for my friends. Desperately, they fight against other rogues. Jasik and the others are severely outnumbered and dangerously distracted…by me. If only I’d stayed inside and obeyed his request. None of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have injured the girl, nearly died, or risked Hikari’s life. I wouldn’t be here, and the rogues might not have attacked. After all, their leader is making it pretty clear his only interest is for me.

  Jasik and I make eye contact, but our exchange is brief. The sorrow in his eyes is almost too much to bear. I tear away from his gaze and turn to refocus on the rogue.

  It’s just one vampire.

  Vampire versus vampire.

  I can do this. I can win.

  I turn my back on my friends to find my enemy, except he’s gone. I spin in circles until I’m dizzy, but I don’t spot him. Where could he have gone? In the midst of a war, he retreats? Why do that? Why come all this way and plan this entire fight, just to leave?

  “We end this tonight!” I shout.

  My threat doesn’t faze the vampires or rogues. The clatter of metal striking metal still rings in my head and echoes in the air all around us. No one has stopped to consider my words, to aid or fight me. They continue on, and they’re in need of my help.

  Twigs break under weight in the distance, and I turn to face the noise. My stomach grows uneasy, making it nearly impossible to focus on the sound in the woods.

  Though I can’t see him—yet—I know he’s there, watching, waiting. Slowly, I take a step toward the sound. My gaze sweeps the woods, but I see nothing except forest.

  I release several deep breaths, trying to steady my overworked heart. I need this rogue to consider me a threat, a predator. I am not his prey—not anymore. He may have retreated, but I would follow him to the ends of the earth. I promise myself he will meet an untimely death at the hands of my stake—the very weapon that should have ended his existence the moment we met in the cemetery a few days ago.

  I refuse to back down. After all, killing the monster who ruined my life is good practice and will prove to the vampires that I’m worthy of training. They’ll consider me an ally, an asset.

  I stand tall, threateningly. My hands are clenched at my sides. My fangs lengthen as I release a long-awaited deep growl. I imagine sinking my fangs into his neck and drinking him dry. I pretend he’s a shriveled corpse before me. I stake him. If only it were that easy.

  Three rogues emerge past the tree line. They are strong, old. I sense their strength the moment they appear. Just like when I’m around Amicia, something within me screams, but I have no interest in pleasing them the way I wish to please her. After all, they have no link to Jasik. I’m beginning to realize older vampires emit a powerful scent. They smell like ash and blood.

  The rogues approaching me wear bloodstained clothes, and their skin is caked with dirt. As I assess their physique—and the mathematic probability of my survival rate—they continue approaching me. They walk with confidence that shakes me to my core.

  “I have no interest in fighting your patsies. This is between you and me,” I shout, hoping the rogue will take the bait.

  Unfortunately he doesn’t.

  I curse under my breath and prepare myself for one heck of a fight.

  The tallest of the three charges me first, and I remind myself that I will stand my ground. I will not falter. If it comes down to death, I accept that fate. Dying to protect myself and those who care about me is a good way to go.

  The rogue approaches me from the front. A fatal mistake. I’m smaller and more agile than this beast.

  I lunge forward just as he is within arm’s reach. I twist to the side and spin around until I stand behind him. I pounce on his back, wrapping my legs around his waist. He grumbles something inaudible, but I ignore him. I’m too busy grabbing his head and jerking it to the side as hard as I can.

  With my fingers knotted in his hair, his neck snaps. We fall to the ground. Still on top of him, I dig my knee into his back. The other is firmly planted against the ground. Snapping his neck won’t kill him, so I need to make a permanent move before the other vampires reach my side.

  Scraping my nails against his scalp, I pull his head upward by his hair while pushing his torso down with my knee. His head detaches swiftly, and I somersault away and face my attackers.

  But the other two vampires haven’t yet approached. They stand, jaws ajar in disbelief. I lift my bloody souvenir in the air, displaying the vampire’s head. I toss it toward them, but it bursts into ash before it reaches their feet.

  I take their moment of uncertainty for my advantage. I raise my arms to my sides, my fingers flicking them toward me in a daring move. I arch a brow.

  “Well, boys. Let’s dance,” I say, smiling.

  The larger of the two g
rowls. His muscles tighten as he throws his arms out to his sides and curls his fingers into fists. He runs toward me, his feet smacking the ground with each step, sending shock waves through the earth. He slams into me, and I fly through the air. I crash into a tree, its branch piercing my gut. I cry out and stare at the protruding limb. It’s coated in my blood. I’m not sure how much more I can lose before I must feed.

  I gasp for air and grab on to the branch. Every second it is inside me is excruciating.

  I rest the soles of my feet against the rough bark of the thick trunk. Pushing against the tree, I begin to slide off at an agonizing pace.

  Before I can free myself, the other vampire reaches me. He grabs on to my arms and yanks me forward. I scream as the branch scrapes against flesh and bone. With the tree no longer holding my weight, I fall to the ground in a heap.

  The vampire is beside me, and I’m too weak to stand. He grabs me by the neck and lifts me in the air until my legs dangle beneath me. I kick, trying to jab him at the perfect angle to release me, to no avail.

  He pushes me up against the tree and slams my skull against the trunk once, twice, three times. I see stars and cease fighting. My limbs dangle lifelessly at my sides.

  “Incendia,” I choke, trying to summon spirit magic.

  But nothing happens.

  Fire does not aid me—not anymore. I’m weak, and I’ve lost my magic. Vampire against vampire is too fair a fight. I need an edge if I want to win.

  The vampire leans into me, and I thrust my arms upward, striking him between his forearms and jabbing him in the chin. Disoriented, he releases me. I land on my feet and punch him in the chest. My fist breaks through bone, sliding right through his heart.

  He wails the moment his heart is shredded, like meat to claws. I grab on to the remains and yank them free. He turns to dust, and I set my sights on the final rogue vampire.

  I’m exhausted, but I must fight if I ever want to aid my friends and return home.

  He rushes toward me, and I stumble backward until I’m flush against the tree. I risk a daring move. Reaching for a low-hanging branch, I snap it off and spin it in my hand before chucking it at my attacker. He grunts, nearly rolling his eyes, at my fruitless maneuver.

  He grabs the branch before it even comes close to his chest, and with a squeeze of his hand, it crumbles into pieces.

  He howls, heaving from impact. His skin pales, his eyes widen. He’s flying through the air and slams into the ground before turning to dust like the rest of them.

  I smile. I was counting on his confidence. While he was focused on my distraction, my stake was slicing through the air at record speed. It flew past the broken bits of branch that were falling from his grasp and plunged into his chest with such velocity, it flung him backward.

  Now he’s nothing but dust.

  Waiting for my next formidable attacker, I limp toward my weapon, pick it up, and grip it tightly.

  “I said,” I shout, breathing heavily, “we’re finishing this!”

  A hand rests against my shoulder, and I spin around frantically, flinging my stake toward the intruder as if it’s a machete capable of hacking away flesh. I bring it down, and something catches my arm midair.

  Jasik stands beside me, eyes wide. His forehead is slick from sweat, his skin caked with dirt. His clothes are torn and blood-soaked. I yank my arm away and fall against him. He wraps his arms around me, and we embrace as if we’re the only two vampires remaining.

  I can’t explain the way I feel, knowing he survived. I’m not sure I even want to understand it. For now, I’m grateful he made it through the mess of rogues preventing him from reaching my side.

  “It was a trap,” I say. My voice is muffled by Jasik’s jacket, but he nods, brushing against the crown of my head. We sit like this for a moment until our pulses sync and my worries fade.

  Finally, we pull away, and I search for our allies. Though they all survived, it’s clear their strength has been depleted as well. We remain victorious, having eliminated the small army of rogues sent to destroy them and test me. They may be gone, but one still lives.

  I face the woods. I feel his gaze lingering on me, and I’m sure his lips have twisted into a sly smile. Having defeated his warriors, I suppose I’ve passed his test, and that can only mean one thing.

  He’ll return for me, and we’ll end this once and for all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The basement training quarters aren’t what I was expecting. Even though the basement beautifully matches the manor’s Gothic decor, I still expected a basement out of a horror film: gloomy, concrete floors, goo-covered walls, broken windows, dead bodies sprawled about. The usual stuff you see in vampire horror flicks.

  Wall sconces provide minimal lighting in the tight and winding hallway, but my eyes adjust quickly. It takes only seconds for the shadows to dissipate. We pass a few doors as we approach the end of the hallway.

  “What’s down here?” I ask, generally curious.

  “The armory, our training room, storage, and such.”

  I raise a brow at the armory part. They have an actual armory? That tidbit would have been useful to know a couple of days ago when the rogues attacked.

  “Believe it or not,” Jasik continues, “we don’t simply awaken with the skills needed to kill. We train to use these weapons.”

  “Of course not. That would be too easy.” Internally, I curse the fact that we can’t just be naturally good at things. I need an edge.

  The large training room is behind the second-to-last door. The wall to the left of the entrance is floor-to-ceiling mirrors. The wall adjacent to the mirrors is full of weapons: crossbows, spears, blades. The carpeted floor in the hallway doesn’t continue into the room. Instead, the entire flooring is matted with a foam floor tile. Gently, I push my heels into it, testing its plushness. There isn’t any fancy workout equipment. There is just padded flooring and a wall of weapons.

  Something shiny and silver catches my eye. I walk over to the wall and slide my fingers across the blade. I’m not sure what it is. Having a curved tip and between two to three feet long, it seems too curved to be a sword, too thick to be a katana, and too long to be a dagger. But it sure is pretty. The end of the mirrored blade is cased in a black handle with swirling silver lines that glisten in the light. The tip of the handle has a metallic stone. I rub my finger over the smooth surface. I pull the weapon from the wall, my palm firmly grasping it in place.

  Jasik steps behind me, placing a hand atop my own, and turns the blade. “Hold it like this,” he says.

  I am painfully aware of his proximity. His breath is cool on the back of my neck. I turn my head and meet his gaze, letting his fingers linger against my own. His skin lightly brushes against mine, and I shiver as something sparks inside me.

  I say nothing—afraid to break the moment, yet terrified to let it continue.

  How does he have such sway over me? But more importantly, why do I keep letting it happen? As if reading my thoughts, he pulls away, clearing his throat.

  “That’s a Celtic seax,” he says. He turns his back to me and fiddles with something atop the table positioned directly across from the wall of weapons. “The handle has a very powerful crystal: hematite. It’s believed that hematite protects warriors in battle, so this particular stone holds great value to hunters. I’ve had it since I was a child. It was my father’s.” He turns to face me, holding a small dagger, swirling it around in his hand while he speaks. “It’s been restored, and if you like it, I want you to have it,” he says.

  “What? No. I can’t. It’s a family heirloom. I couldn’t take this,” I say.

  He chuckles. “I suppose it is, but no one has used it for quite some time. I’d rather have it be of use than collecting dust.”

  I look at the blade, raising it and resting the tip on my free palm. I move my arms up and down, testing its weight. It does feel good in my hands.

  I nod. “Okay. I mean, if you’re sure. It would be nice to have
something else.” I plan to keep my stake, but after my last fight, having a weapon only effective in hand-to-hand combat is troubling. This will help me kill more efficiently. Slice and dice is the way to go when I’m staring down several sets of crimson eyes.

  “Great, and I have a scabbard for it,” Jasik says, setting down the dagger and walking across the room to a cabinet.

  A scabbard?

  “I made this to fit on my back.” He opens the cabinet door and grabs what I assume is the scabbard. “You’ll need to practice sliding the blade in and out of the sheath, but in time, you will wield this weapon as effectively as you use your stake.”

  He tightens the arms on the scabbard to accommodate my smaller frame and tells me to turn around. I set the seax on the table and slide my arms into the loopholes. It wears like gun holsters in a Wild West movie, and it fits as if it were meant for me. This seals the deal. I’m definitely taking this weapon with me during my more dangerous patrols.

  I step away from Jasik and admire myself in the mirrors, turning my head to the side, trying to see how the scabbard rests against my back. It looks good and lies flat. If I needed to conceal it, it shouldn’t be too noticeable beneath a jacket.

  I grab the seax from the table and mimic Jasik’s swirly maneuver, which is easier than I anticipated with such a large weapon. I am used to twirling smaller weapons, like my stake, but the weight of a seax handles differently. It’s much more manageable than I anticipated. I could get used to this.

  Feeling daring, I flip the blade upward in a twirling motion before yanking it down, hoping my aim will come as quickly and easily as my weapon-twirling. The seax slides into its sheath like it was waiting for this very moment all those years it was cooped up in this dank, dusty basement.

  I face Jasik, smiling from ear to ear, but his pale face makes me frown.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack! You must learn and train properly to wield a weapon of this magnitude. You can’t just swing it around and hope for the best.”