Realizing I have yet to answer him, I nod. “Yes, I’m Ava.”
Holland smiles again. “It’s nice to meet you, Ava. I hear you’re having a problem.”
“I, uh, yeah. It’s kind of a unique situation…I guess,” I say.
Holland nods. “Well, you weren’t human.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, actually, ever since…” Holland clears his throat. “Um, ever since Jeremiah called.”
I don’t miss his hesitation when he mentions his ex-boyfriend. Unsurprisingly so, Hikari was right. There are definitely unresolved feelings there. Selfishly, my first thought isn’t that I hope these two lovebirds reconcile. All I can think about is myself and how I hope this won’t be a distraction while Holland and I work through this.
“Why don’t I take your bags and get you set up in the guest room. You and Ava can take a seat in the solarium to chat,” Malik says. He walks around me to grab Holland’s only bag. Without waiting for a response, he picks up the suitcase and turns back toward the staircase. As he walks past me, we make eye contact. Everything he needs to say is said in that one glance.
Figure this out, and don’t mess up.
I turn back to the others. Most of the vampires have cleared out, making promises to catch up later. Soon, I’m standing alone with Holland and Jasik. With Malik no longer standing behind me, anchoring me to this spot in time, that rush of uneasiness comes back.
In true sire fashion, Jasik is quick to come to my side. It’s as if he sensed my uncertainty. I smile up at him, offering him silent thanks. He nods at me, understanding. Instinctively, I grab on to his hand, lacing our fingers together. A tingle shoots through me. It’s not a dissimilar feeling than what I just experienced with Holland, but my reaction to it has definitely changed. With Holland, I am fearful, unsure, and on guard. Jasik’s touch gives me a rush of life. He makes me feel stronger, wiser, and beautiful. He looks at me with such appreciation and thoughtfulness.
Holland clears his throat, and I jerk my gaze back to him. Something about being so close to Jasik makes my head foggy, but I need to focus. Holland was asked to come for a reason, and I need to remember that. Without him, I’m surely doomed.
“I’m glad to see everything is the same,” Holland says, a coy smile crossing his face as he looks from our hands to our eyes. He winks at Jasik as he turns on his heels and enters the parlor. I gnaw on my lower lip at his insinuation and pull my hand free from Jasik’s. I don’t dare look at him as I follow Holland.
The parlor smells musty. It smells like the many books encased in the shelves all around this room. Nothing in the world smells like a book. If it were possible for knowledge to have a smell, it would smell just like this—stale, stuffy, and a little dank. Paper has that airless scent to it.
A large stone fireplace is centered against the only wall not covered with bookcases or the large bay window to my right. A few vampires are camped out in the room. Some are reading, some are talking, but none are playing the game of chess on the table in front of the bay window. During my second night here, Jasik informed me that he and Malik have been playing that game for years. Malik refuses to make a move because it’s a losing game for him. So it sits, gathering dust, much like my old room at Mamá’s house.
The parlor opens to the sitting room on my left, but it also has an entrance to the solarium, which extends along the right side of the house. We can enter the solarium from the parlor, sitting room, and dining room, and there are even two entrances from outside—one at the front of the house and one at the back. It’s a massive L-shaped room with stained-glass windows, plants that thrive at night, and many seating areas. Thankfully, for the time being, no one is here but us. The last thing I want is an obvious eavesdropper.
After we enter the solarium, I pull out a chair at my favorite seating area and take a seat. From where I’m seated, I can see straight through to the backyard garden. The first time I ventured back there, I was jumping out of Jasik’s bedroom window in a sad attempt to prove my worthiness. I didn’t have a chance to appreciate the plant beds or the way the trees cluster together. I barely noticed how close we were to the sea, but now I can hear the waves crashing, smell the salty air, feel the tingle of mist against my cheeks. It’s hard to imagine living somewhere other than Darkhaven.
I eye Jasik curiously. It’s been a long time since the first night he brought me into this room. We were sitting at a table at the other end of the solarium, and after giving me a quick tour of the manor, he offered me words of wisdom and shared secrets from his past. I can’t help but think about how he and Malik died all those years ago. Talking about it doesn’t seem to bother him anymore, but I think he still misses his family. I wonder if Mamá will still have her hold on me even after she’s gone.
“You mentioned you’ve been thinking about Ava’s situation,” Jasik says as he takes a seat beside me. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve been gawking at him ever since I sat down. The legs of his chair scrape against the tile floor, and I cringe at the sound. A shiver rushes through me, and I gnaw on my lower lip, eagerly awaiting Holland’s response.
He nods. “I have. Vampires were once human. It’s possible there are other witch-turned-vampires in existence, but honestly, I’ve never met one. But this is where your situation is rather unique.”
“I’ve never met someone like Ava either,” Jasik agrees.
A rush of warmth washes over me. Jasik doesn’t just say he hasn’t met another witch-turned-vampire; he says he’s never met someone like me. I understand the hidden meaning in his words, and something sparks inside me. I reach for him and place my hand on his knee. He looks down at me, smiling.
Holland notices my gesture, even though my hand and Jasik’s knee are hidden beneath the table, but continues talking. “It’s safe to say this isn’t common. After all, witches and vampires tend to steer clear of each other.”
I nod and think about the lessons I learned while growing up. I was taught to believe vampires were evil, soulless creatures who needed to be killed. I suppose that’s true for rogue vampires, but not for the others. I imagine Holland experienced these same lessons. I wonder how many other times he and I were led astray by our covens. Is this why Holland left his coven? Did he discover their betrayal?
“If you think of vampirism like a virus, then this virus attacks human cells, morphing them into something else. This is the transition process a human experiences during the blood swap. The vampire’s blood sort of…takes over and replaces the human cells with enhanced vampire cells. The human then becomes a vampire.”
I nod and shrug. “Sure, I guess that makes sense.”
“Well, as a witch, your cells were already changed by something,” Holland continues.
I furrow my brow. “By what?”
“Magic.”
“So what does that mean?” Jasik asks. He leans forward, resting his elbows against the tabletop. I mimic his position because I’m equally interested. I’ve never thought of witchcraft in this way, but it makes sense. Witches are human. They’re mortal creatures, but something separates them from being just human—magic. I think Holland is on to something.
“Honestly, I’m not sure, and I could be wrong, but I think this is why Ava is…different,” Holland says. He brushes hair from his eyes and offers a sad smile. It’s as if he’s apologizing for not having better news.
“So I’m not a vampire?” I ask.
“Oh, no, you’re definitely a vampire. You have the pale skin, the red eyes, and I’m guessing you drink blood and have enhanced senses. You have all the traits of being a vampire—”
“But… the other night—” I begin, interrupting Holland.
“But I don’t think you’re just a vampire. I think you’re something more,” Holland continues.
I want to shout from the rooftops that I agree with him. Of course I’m something more. We established that the moment I tapped into magic. But what am I? And
what does this mean? Will I ever be normal? Do I have all vampire traits or just some? Will I be able to access magic again, or was that a one-time thing? Questions clutter my head, and I feel like I may lose my mind if I don’t get some answers.
“Basically, you think she’s…mixed? Part vampire and part witch?” Jasik clarifies.
Holland is quiet for a moment as he considers Jasik’s question. “I think she might be. I can’t be sure, though. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I don’t really have a coven to reach out to for guidance.”
I want to ask about his former coven, but I don’t. Still, the desire to do so burns within me. I’m not sure why I’m so nosy with him, but I ache to know more about his past, about what drove him away from his coven and how he’s surviving on his own. He’s so similar to me, yet so different.
“I don’t either,” I say.
My voice is raw, soft, and I sound utterly pathetic. The pain from losing my coven comes in waves. Loss is funny that way. There are days I’m so strong that I never question my ability to carry on without them. I consider it their loss, not mine. But then the sun rises and sets on another day, and once again, their betrayal burns in the pit of my gut. I ache to see them, to be with them again.
It’s been six weeks since my coven deemed me forsaken, and in that time, the only thing that’s changed is my attitude toward the vampires. On the days I want to return home, it would only be to visit, because I can’t bring myself to leave Jasik or Malik or Hikari or Jeremiah.
As much as it pains me to know my own mother has abandoned me, that isn’t the worst of it. That honor goes to the days when I wake up having forgotten what happened six weeks ago. I open my eyes to see a new room, and I remember all over again that I’m not in the house I grew up in. I’m not friends with Liv anymore. I’m not Mamá’s daughter or a witch who is part of a coven.
This loss is similar to the death of someone I love. Even on the days I know what happened and am strong enough to forgive them, I still feel like it never should have happened. I feel like, even though I’m a vampire, I should be able to call Mamá and ask for help when I need her.
But I can’t.
Mamá will never forgive me.
When Jasik clasps his hand around mine, I realize I’ve been staring into space, absentmindedly lost in my own thoughts. I blink away the memories that plague my existence and smile to reassure him that I’m okay.
“Ava, I might not know what’s going on, but I’m more than happy to stay here and help you. I won’t leave until you can control it,” Holland says.
Jeremiah crashes into the room, sending us spiraling back to reality. He’s dressed in his patrol gear—dark jeans and jacket, with a dagger strapped to his waist. His hands are caked with dried blood, and his jeans are ripped, exposing dirty skin beneath. Clearly he was fighting, and it didn’t go well.
“What is it?” Jasik asks, standing abruptly, scraping his chair against the tile. I wince at the sound.
“We have a serious problem,” Jeremiah says.
Holland clears his throat and sits straighter. He’s staring at Jeremiah, desperately trying to get his attention but not succeeding. With each passing second, Holland begins to sink farther down into his chair. My heart hurts for him. I know how hard it is to so desperately desire someone’s affection and not receive it.
“What happened?” Jasik asks.
“I was patrolling, and I ran into rogues,” Jeremiah says. “I chased them down, fighting the last one almost into town. They’re getting more brazen.”
Jasik nods and exhales sharply. “I was afraid of this. Darkhaven is a small village. They don’t have access to as much food unless they leave the forest.”
“That’s not our only problem,” Jeremiah says. He eyes me cautiously without continuing.
I cross my arms over my chest, preparing to hold myself. Something inside me doesn’t want to hear what Jeremiah has to say. I know it won’t be good news, and I have an inkling it’s going to make things very bad for me. Even so, I say, “What is it?”
Jeremiah glances back at Jasik. Something crosses between the two. The silence stretches for only a few seconds, but it feels like hours. My annoyance grows, and I bite my tongue until I can’t any longer.
“What happened? Just tell me!” I shout. At this point, I’m growing more frantic and readying myself for the worst.
“I overheard something unsettling,” Jeremiah says carefully.
“Just tell us,” Jasik says. Even he sounds frustrated that Jeremiah feels he needs to be so cautious around me.
“A witch from Darkhaven was taken.”
Chapter Five
By the time Jeremiah returned home and informed us of a missing Darkhaven witch, the sun was soon to rise. Waiting until the following eve was soul-crushing. I couldn’t sleep, so I didn’t even try. All I could do was envision my former coven missing another witch. This has to be a devastating blow.
After abandoning me during what was probably my weakest, most desperate moment, the witches didn’t deserve my help, but my pride wouldn’t prevent me from offering the aid they so desperately need right now.
My bedroom is dark, dank. I once found this space inviting, welcoming, and vibrant. It was full of life and love—a place I could see myself living as the many years came and went. I had an eternity, but I didn’t need that much time to call this place home. Amicia’s Victorian-style manor had grown on me, but now, my comfort mocks me.
My beige bedspread is murky and dark. The sheer white fabric that twists around the bed posts and encases the mattress feels more like a prison than a paradise.
The room’s dark-blue walls are closing in on me, and I wipe my moist palms against my thighs to dry them. I’m nervous about facing the witches again, and I fear what they may do when I show up with a herd of vampires. The fact that we had to wait another day isn’t helping my tension. I fear for the missing witch’s safety.
I pace my room, replaying last night’s conversation on a loop in my mind. Jeremiah was worried I would lash out, mindless and steadfast in my decision to protect what was once familiar to me. I can’t fault his logic. That was my first thought. My innate reaction to protect the witches is nestled so deep within me, I fear I may never shake it.
I know this is why Amicia is worried about a former witch living with her vampires. My hatred for them was instilled at birth. What she doesn’t understand is that this manor feels more like home than the house I lived in with Mamá. The last thing I want to do is hurt the vampires.
After walking in circles and staring at the hardwood floors, I stop in front of a corner mirror and stare at my reflection. Far too many hours have passed since the witch went missing, and all I can do is imagine her face even as I look at my own.
My reflection betrays my greatest fear. I blink, and I no longer see myself; I see Mamá or Liv. I pray they’re not among the missing. I pray someone else was taken. I hate myself for even thinking it, for wishing it, but not enough to take it back. I can be selfish for once in my life…right?
I blink and look at my reflection again, and I see a stranger. No longer haunted by my family and friends, I wonder who she is. Is this the witch’s face? Is she still alive? Is this her or just some cruel trick my mind is playing on me?
As a spirit witch, I had access to magic even our elders didn’t understand. At night I would dream, and the next day, what I assumed were dreams were visions of future events. Sometimes I would enter the dreams of other spirit users, like Mamá. Now that I know I’m not just a vampire, maybe I’m actually seeing the missing witch. Maybe my powers are growing, and…
I shake my head and exhale sharply.
“You’re losing your mind, Ava,” I say aloud.
I can’t let my fear, confusion, and anxiety affect me like this. The second the sun sets and the world is cast in darkness, the vampires and I are going to the witches. I need to be on my A-game if I expect to convince them to let us help find who’s missing.
I don’t know her face or her name or how she ended up in a critical situation, but I know she’s scared. She doesn’t think she’ll be saved. I know this, even without speaking to her or looking into her eyes, because this is how I felt that night. The vampires saved us from the rogues, and even as I begged for help, deep down, I didn’t believe Jasik would save me. After all, we were supposed to be mortal enemies, and even if we could set aside our mutual distrust, I was sure I was too far gone.
I think about the witches. I know Mamá is pacing the room, just like I am, but her face is void of emotion, as it always was. She is an expert at concealing her emotions. She once told me this made her a better parent. She said I needed her to be strong after Papá died. She said I needed a father more than a mother. I’m certain this is why our relationship has always been strained. When I wanted to break, she wouldn’t let me, even if all I really needed was a good cry.
If nothing else, Mamá made me an excellent warrior. Removing my own emotions to fight vampires has always come easy to me. I never feared death or facing a stronger opponent. Unfortunately, the pendulum swings both ways. I also never experienced life until the moment I died. The moment I drank Jasik’s blood and tapped into a part of myself I never knew was hidden.
“Mamá, ¿puedes escucharme?” I ask if she can hear me, but I know she cannot.
I close my eyes and listen to my gut. Deep down to the depths of my soul, I know the witches need me right now, even if they won’t be able to admit it. I can feel their pain and confusion. I sense it like I sense the fall of the sun, the rise of the moon, the change of the seasons.
I envision the witches and predict their plan. Having been a witch myself, I know exactly what they plan to do, and the realization that war is inevitable shakes me to my core. I squeeze my eyes shut until a shooting pain explodes behind my lids. I shake away the images that force their way into my mind. I don’t want to see a dead witch or the bloodbath in the wake of their search for the missing.
Dark Magic (Darkhaven Saga Book 2) Page 5
