Opening my eyes, I finally see myself in the mirror. My crimson irises are bright, but my eyes are sunken and dark from lack of sleep. My skin is pale, my small frame eerily gaunt and frail. I look as though I haven’t slept or eaten in days. I know this isn’t true, but my emotional internal battle is wreaking havoc on my mind, body, and soul.
“Mamá, por favor, déjame ayudarte.” I know she can’t hear me, but I beg her to let me help nonetheless. Darkhaven shouldn’t lose another witch to the vampires. As much as I’m starting to enjoy the perks of being a vampire, I wouldn’t wish this curse on anyone. No one should live to watch their ancestors age and die, all the while knowing an eternity alone is inevitable.
After several seconds of receiving no answer, I decide my powers are not advancing. I step back with a huff, providing enough space between the mirror and me to properly assess myself.
“It’s time I focus on what I can change,” I say aloud.
I can’t forget anything. This is too important. I complete a mental checklist of the necessary items before I leave my room to join the others downstairs. I can hear the whispers of a waking house, and I’m certain everyone in the manor heard me talking to myself. Thankfully, I’m not worried about appearing mentally unstable, even though the thought of a missing witch is killing me on the inside.
Much like my current mood, my hair is so dark it’s almost black. It’s pulled back into a tight ponytail, and any loose strands are tucked behind my ears and pinned in place. Tonight, I can’t afford even the slightest distraction, like loose hair poking me in the eyes as I fight whatever beast is holding the witch hostage.
I slip on my combat boots and double knot the laces. As usual, my pants are tucked inside. The stretchy material makes hunting and fighting rogues easy work. Like the others, I tend to wear the same style clothes for hunting—cropped military-style jacket, combat boots, black T-shirt, and dark pants. I want to blend into the shadows but also hide my extremely noticeable pale skin from any human onlookers.
I pat the side of my jacket, searching for the familiar groove of my hidden stake. It brings me comfort knowing it’s the one thing from my past that still watches over me.
Unconsciously, I walk to my bedside table and open the drawer to display a thin black box. I remove it and glance at its contents. Running a finger along the edge of the jewelry box, I stare at the silver cross Papá gave me before he died. So long ago, I watched with vision blurred by tears as Mamá carried me out of the woods while Papá stayed behind to fight the vampires. I remember his blast of fire magic as he set the world aflame.
He never came home.
I wipe the single tear that falls, close the lid, and place the jewelry box back in the drawer. Without another thought, I leave my bedroom.
I’m drinking my third mug of blood before Jasik finds me in the kitchen. He strolls in and offers me a weak smile. His skin is paler than usual, and his brown hair is messily tousled atop his head. He runs a hand through it, and I’ve come to understand it’s a nervous tic of his. I wonder what is making him wary—me or visiting the witches.
Dark circles under his eyes make his crimson irises pop. I’m guessing he didn’t sleep last night either. If the others are just as exhausted, convincing the witches we’re assets is going to be a greater challenge than I initially expected. These are the moments I miss things like coffee. I’m guessing we all need a caffeine boost.
To avoid speaking, I slurp loudly, and Jasik grabs a bag of blood from the refrigerator to fill a glass. He pops his mug into the microwave and turns to face me. Leaning against the counter, he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for me to speak. I know he wants me to break our silence first, but I don’t want to debate this anymore. I’m tired of talking and waiting and not doing anything. I want action. I want to punch something. Of all the days for Malik to cancel training…
To avoid eye contact, I stare at the rows of empty cabinetry surrounding Jasik. They’re utterly useless. As vampires, we need two things: a stocked fridge and a cabinet of microwave-safe mugs. That means our rather large kitchen is barren.
I glance back at Jasik, and his gaze burns into my own. Last night, the vampires took a vote on whether or not we will aid the witches. Jasik sided with me, but I know he only did that because of our bond. The vampires don’t want to help the witches, but they do want to eliminate the rogue who took her. It took far too long for me to convince them killing the rogue and helping the missing witch are the same task.
To eliminate the rogue, we must help the witches, and in the end, the vampires agreed I would go to the witches at sundown, even if they weren’t coming with me. They ultimately agreed to help only because I’m too stubborn to walk away.
Now, there’s a gnawing sensation in my gut. I don’t like arguing with the vampires, and I feel like I’ve betrayed them by being so adamant about helping my former coven. Jasik never said anything, but I could see confusion and pain in his eyes. When I first arrived, I made it clear that I was only here for self-preservation. I had every intention of returning to my coven once I learned to control my blood lust. It’s easier now, and I no longer feel that desire to return home. But does he know that?
The longer I think about our situation, the more my head hurts. I close my eyes and rub my temples. Since I have no access to herbs to create a healing elixir, I mentally prepare one by using a mortar and pestle to grind eucalyptus, lavender, and lemon balm. I’d fill a tea bag with the contents and inhale the steam as it steeped. Already, I feel my headache easing.
“Are you all right?”
I open my eyes to find Jasik beside me. His brow is furrowed, his cloudy irises laced with concern.
I nod. “Just tired. I didn’t sleep.”
He smiles at me, and the world slips away. My exhaustion, pain, and anxiety melt, and I feel rejuvenated again. I’m confident in myself and our plan to aid the witches, to find the rogues who’ve taken her and make sure no one will ever be harmed again. I don’t worry about Jasik or the others, and I know, in time, they’ll understand they made the right decision to help the witches.
I don’t miss my rather abrupt mood change. I hate that Jasik has so much power over my emotions, but I love that even the darkest days brighten when he’s around. He makes my heart ache and my mind flutter in all the best ways.
“You’re stronger than you know, Ava. Even a few sleepless nights can’t hinder your strength.”
His comforting words wrap around me and bounce inside my head. I hear him over and over again, believing him each time. I know I’m strong, and I know I can handle this, but knowing he believes in me gives me that extra boost I need after last night’s insomnia.
“Everything will be okay,” Jasik says.
I smile. “Promise?”
Even though he answers me, he doesn’t need to respond. I already know the truth of his words.
Together, we will save the witch.
It didn’t take long to reach Mamá’s house, and now that I’m here, mere feet away from the very last place I saw my coven, I want to leave. I’m scared to knock on the door as if nothing happened, and I’m still angry with them for forsaking me. What’s most confusing is even after all of that, I still have it in my heart to love and miss them. If I don’t get my emotions in check, I’ll never make it to my next birthday.
Jasik is standing beside me. He laces his fingers through mine and holds my hand. Offering a comforting squeeze, I glance up at him and smile. I nod to let him know I’m okay and totally not having a mental breakdown after seeing my old house again.
Of course, this isn’t the first time I’ve been back. He doesn’t know I was here a couple of weeks ago. I watched my former coven complete their full moon ritual exactly one month after they sent me to my death. I never told the other vampires because I didn’t expect them to understand. I may hate the witches for what they did to me, but they’re still my only living blood relatives. I had to watch over them, especially during that ritual.
/> I glance over my shoulder to find Malik, Jeremiah, and Hikari watching us. By now, they’re used to our public displays of affection, and they understand our bond. Jasik sired me, and I’m forever indebted to him because of it. But what they don’t know is there’s something more here.
A spark of attraction flows between us, tethering his soul to mine. If the world would stop spinning for just a second, I would spend some time trying to understand what’s developing between us, but whenever I have even a moment’s peace, either another crisis crashes through our door or Malik insists on a training session. I wish he had more faith in my previous training, but he doesn’t believe the witches taught me enough to save my neck against rogue vampires. I suppose he may be right. The last rogue I fought nearly killed me with my own stake.
I turn back toward my old house. We’re standing in the backyard, just beyond the fence that separates Mamá’s property and the surrounding woods of Darkhaven. We haven’t yet dared to venture onto her property.
I can hear the bustle of movement coming from inside the house. A knot forms in my throat, and I swallow it down. My hands are clammy, and my heart is racing. It’s so loud in my chest, I’m surprised I can hear the outside world. Jasik squeezes my hand reassuringly, but I ignore him.
I stare at the house. I grew up here, but it seems so unfamiliar now. Papá built this house from cedar planks. Over time, the sand-colored wood turned a dark-gray color and has remained that way ever since. Mamá never painted it after Papá died. In fact, Mamá refused to make any changes to the house, forcing us to live in a stagnant place that’s been frozen in time.
Sometimes, I think Mamá thought Papá would return, as if that night in the woods never happened and he’s just been away. Every year at this time, Abuela visits distant relatives, leaving the care of our coven in Mamá’s hands. Maybe she believes Papá is with her and will return with our high priestess.
Or maybe Mamá does believe it happened and she wants him to come home, even if he…turned. I like to think she would take him back even if he were like me now. But I know she wouldn’t.
“They won’t be happy we’re here,” I say softly.
No one speaks, but I hear the hiccup in their breath as it catches. They’re waiting for me to continue, to explain exactly what we’ve gotten ourselves into.
“There were thirteen members in my coven. Without me, twelve remain, but anyone could be here tonight. We weren’t the only coven in Darkhaven,” I say. I pull my hand free from Jasik’s and rub my moist palms together. The anticipation of seeing Mamá again is making me nervous.
“Everything will be okay,” Jasik says. His voice is soft to not to alert the witches inside. The windows are open, with cool breezes rushing indoors each time the wind picks up. I wish it were the other way. I’d kill to smell the scents of home. Sage is likely burning…or maybe Mamá’s favorite incense. She might be cooking stew or running a lavender bath. It’s strange the things you miss when you’re gone.
“What if they attack?” Hikari asks. She’s still a good two or three strides behind me. Her voice is soft, squeaky. I hear her grunt, and I turn in time to see Jeremiah pulling his arm back. He just elbowed her in the side.
I face the house again and scan the dark windows upstairs. The bedrooms and altar room are on the second floor, but from the commotion inside, everyone is downstairs, likely planning their attack to recover the missing witch.
“I won’t be able to protect you from the fire witches,” I say. Silently, I think, because I’ll be too busy protecting myself. The witches won’t stop at my allies. They will come for my heart too. I gnaw on my lower lip. Am I ready for this?
“If we want to help, we need to move quickly,” Malik says. “We only have until dawn.”
I nod, exhale sharply, and take the first step toward my old life. Unfortunately, the road to an unkind death is filled with good intentions.
The moment I cross the threshold into the backyard, a brain-piercing shriek permeates from the house. I scream as I cover my ears with my palms. Falling to my knees, tears streak down my cheeks as lightning-fast pain spreads like wildfire from my brain to my heart to my limbs. I can’t see or hear or think. I’m surrounded by darkness, an eternal pit of nothing but sheer agony. I imagine this is what hell must be like—constant, everlasting, brutal torture.
When it finally stops, I slowly open my eyes and find myself in the fetal position on the ground. The other vampires are beside me, cowering, crawling to their knees. Blood streaks from their ears in steady streams and pools on the ground. Whatever attacked me affected them too.
I wipe away my tears to find my hands bloody. I stare, shocked, and frantically scan my surroundings for Jasik. His face is stained with blood as well. As the others begin to face me, I see more blood stripes slashed across faces. What I assumed were tears was actually blood seeping from my eyes.
“You’re not welcome here,” someone says.
I blink away the blood that still clouds my vision and search the yard for our attacker. Mamá stands several feet away from me, her coven behind her. Even from afar, she towers over me.
“Mamá?” I breathe.
“No tartamudeé, niña,” she said.
“Qué pasó?” I ask. “What happened?” I repeat myself and feel a pang of sadness. Mamá used to repeat herself in both languages all the time when we had visitors. I wonder if she still does.
“I said, you are not welcome here. Leave. Now.” Her words are firm, her tone sharp, and I am certain she will unleash whatever hell magic she just used on us if we don’t comply.
“We came to help,” I whisper.
“Help us? How?” another witch says. I don’t recognize her. She’s tall, thin, with wild red locks that fall well below her shoulders. Her curls are tight and natural, and her blue eyes are tinged with slate gray. They’re cold, lifeless, and her attitude is fueled by her hatred for all that I am.
“The missing witch,” I say softly as I try to stand, but I’m pushed back down again by an air witch. The rush of wind slams into my body, and I flop onto the ground in a heap. The other vampires still haven’t moved. They’re waiting for me to control this situation, to convince the witches that we’re worthy of helping them.
“We didn’t come to fight,” I seethe. I grind my teeth, a sudden burst of annoyance rushing through me.
“And we don’t need your help,” someone else says. I don’t bother searching for the speaker. Instead, I stare straight at Mamá. Her long dark hair rustles in the breeze. Her eyes are dark and swollen, as if she’s been crying. I don’t trick myself into believing she sheds tears for me. It’s for the missing witch.
I gasp, a horrifying thought creeping its way into my mind. “Mamá, who was taken? ¿Quién falta?” I ask. I don’t know any other witch she would cry for besides Liv, my former best friend. I never got to say goodbye to her or explain my side of the story. I assume she hates me and decided it was best to let go of our friendship.
I never tried to contact her after I changed, but that was when I thought witches and vampires couldn’t live together. Holland and Jeremiah made it work. They knew each other intimately, so why couldn’t I befriend Liv again? If she’ll let me explain, I can prove to her that I’m no danger to her or any other human.
“A usted no le incumbe. Déjanos!” Mamá yells. Her hands are balled at her sides, her knuckles turning a vicious shade of white by the sheer force of her fury.
But I will not leave. I refuse to back down.
“Stop this! This is my business too!” I shout. I stand so swiftly the other witches jump backward, flush against the side of the house. One girl stumbles so far, she trips over the sliding door frame and falls onto the kitchen tile. She shimmies back, her brown hair a chaotic mess across her face. When she pushes back her erratic mane and makes eye contact, a rush of relief washes over me.
Liv.
My best friend.
She’s not missing.
But then, who was tak
en? Who would make Mamá cry? Or has she mourned losing her only child?
Before I can think this through, I notice the horrified look creasing Liv’s usually pristine face. She’s shocked to see me and disgusted by what I’ve become. Her only encounter with vampires was with me, and every time we fought them, I coached her. I made her fear for her life. I forced her to believe vampires are evil. And now I am one.
“Liv…” My voice is a whisper.
I take one step toward the witches but am stopped when a pain greater than anything I’ve ever experienced envelops my entire body. The world erupts into commotion, and my senses take control.
Lights flash, burning my eyes.
My allies scream, but their pain is quickly muffled by my overworked senses.
I bellow in pain, my muscles tightening into solid knots.
My senses rapid-fire through my system, offering no sign of relief.
Everything hurts, so I stumble forward, gasping for breath. Blood seeps from my mouth and splatters down my chin. I fall to my knees and glance down at my hands. No longer is my skin pale white. It is stained with blood—my blood. It pools in my hands and slips through my fingers, forming a puddle on the grass. The juxtaposition of my crimson blood and the earthy green ground is jarring.
My heart is beating steadily in my head, but it’s softening with each desperate attempt to feed my body its only life source. My head lulls forward until I’m staring straight at the ground.
Slumped over, I understand why the vampires are screaming, why my chest aches, why I’m coated in blood, and why it’s getting more and more difficult to keep my eyes open.
Protruding from my gut is the jagged edge of a long tree branch. The bark is slick with my flesh, and my wound is steadily dripping. My clothes are drenched and make a squishing sound as I fall onto my side. I grab on to the branch and wrap my fingers around it.
Dark Magic (Darkhaven Saga Book 2) Page 6
