I will never survive this.
It’s now or never.
I beg the power to save me, but even though I feel it slowly sparking to life, it does not come to my aid.
Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with anger. The fury builds within me until all I can see is red and blood and the chaos of war and death.
I hate this vampire. I hate everything he is, everything he stands for. I hate that his kind is the reason the witches condemned me to an eternity of loneliness. I hate that I will fight my blood lust for the rest of my life, all because I’m terrified to become something like him—a monster, a fiend, a ruthless and soulless waste of energy.
I sink my fingers into his flesh, and the stagnant odor of burning flesh permeates the air around me. His eyes widen, his grip loosens, and I pull him free. He’s no longer inside me, but I still do not release him.
My fingers are glowing bright orange, and they’re hot. The air around us becomes hazy, and that mist coats my skin. It sizzles upon impact, making this even more uncomfortable, but I refuse to stop.
I intensify my grip, grunting as I clench my jaw shut so tight, I think I hear a tooth shatter. But no, it’s not my bones breaking. It’s his.
He falls to his knees, and I tower over him. As I look down at him, I notice how terrified he looks. His eyes are wet with tears, and his mouth is moving. I can’t hear him. I can’t hear anything except for the little voice inside me that’s telling me to save myself.
I maintain my hold on this magic until the vampire becomes so hot, his skin boils and bubbles. Just as he begins to melt into a pool of goo, his body turns to ash. He disappears before my eyes, and I walk through the rubble that was once the one vampire who haunted my dreams.
No one is fighting anymore. Everyone is watching me. I walk toward them, and the witches back away. I glance at the vampires, who are huddled around Malik, and catch my reflection in a window. Flames lick across my skin, and like a phoenix from the ashes, I rise from the shadows.
Turning my sights on the few rogue vampires who haven’t retreated, I unleash my power. Just like with their former leader, they are set aflame by my mere thoughts and combust into ash before my eyes. It takes only seconds to eliminate those who were too stunned to run. I find pleasure in knowing I will hunt and kill those who evaded death today.
When the rogues are gone, I know I should force the magic down again, but I don’t want to. I want to use it to rid this world of rogues once and for all, but I know if I grant it that control over my body, I will be left with nothing but a barren, lifeless planet. What’s to stop it from just eliminating rogues when evil resides in all living creatures?
“Ava…”
Someone whispers my name. The voice sounds familiar, but the fear, the confusion, the disgust, does not. I turn to face her.
Mamá is before me, but she cannot stand. She’s far too weak from battle. Liv and another witch are helping her walk. Together, the three lean against each other, all battered and bruised. Mamá’s clothes are bloodstained and dirty with ash. Her usually tan skin is pale—maybe from her blood loss or maybe from the sight of what I’ve become. She doesn’t hide her discomfort or the disgust she feels when she looks at me.
“¿Qué eres?” she asks, her tone both queasy and weary.
“It’s me, Mamá,” I say softly.
The magic recoils, the flames extinguishing themselves. With the magic tucked safely back inside my body, I take a step toward her.
“No!” Mamá shouts. The witches stumble backward, trying to keep a safe distance between us.
“Just leave, Ava,” Liv says. “Leave and never return.”
Chapter Seven
I don’t dare turn back as I leave Mamá’s house, and I plan never to return again. They won’t welcome me back after tonight’s events, even though the vampires and I saved them from their doomed fate. They’ll never see it that way. Not anymore. Not after witnessing what I’ve become.
I’d be lying if I said Liv’s demeanor didn’t sting. I’d hoped I could show her and the others that we’re different. We’re not the rogue vampires they fear. We can coexist if only they’d try to change, to see the world differently, but their turned-up noses and cast-down gazes prove they have no intention of creating a better world. In the face of such destruction, peace should be inevitable. Sadly, it’s not.
We pass the gate that separates Mamá’s property from the forest, and the vampires begin to run. The sun will soon rise, and we’re too far from home. Amicia’s manor is across town, and I know we’ll never make it if we don’t hurry. Already, the sky is lighter. The creatures of the night are scurrying to their beds, and the morning birds are chirping.
My skin itches from the incoming sunrise. I tingle everywhere, my heart urging me to take cover. Everything within me is screaming at me to go home, to get inside, but I cannot run. Not because I’m too weak or too tired or too sad from losing my family yet again. Something else is on my mind.
I watch the other vampires. They do not hide their joy. We won. They are celebrating with genuine smiles, heavy laughter, and high-fives. They beat death and live to fight another day. Their fear is gone, and they’re giddy with adrenaline.
Sure, I’m happy too. I’m relieved to know the vampire who’s been hunting me is now dust. I no longer need to look over my shoulder or expect his constant attacks. I don’t need to be on edge. My friends—and former allies—aren’t in danger anymore. But mostly I’m thankful because it was getting exhausting. A girl can only take so many attacks and withstand so many assaults before she breaks down. I feared for my safety and the safety of my comrades, but I don’t need to anymore. My mind is at ease.
And I’m annoyed that this new sensation bubbling within me is overtaking my moment of reprieve. How often can I be happy in this world of bloodshed and chaos? The moments are few and far between, and I can’t even enjoy the one time I need not fear the darkness or who may lurk there within the shadows. Finally, I’ve slain the monster, and I can’t even celebrate.
The other vampires are ecstatic for our win, and I envy them. Sure, they’re sad for me over my loss. They know constant rejection from one’s own family is brutal psychological and emotional torture. But they truly believe in time I will forget about the witches anyway. So why not start now? Why not just move on and let them go? They don’t understand. They don’t have living relatives. Maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to sever ties if they did.
Hikari playfully smacks Jeremiah on the shoulder. He winces. Only then do I notice the dried blood caked to his arm. Hikari doesn’t as she turns to scan the woods that line our walking path. Even during recovery, the vampires seem…happy. Blissfully, naturally, honestly…happy.
As much as it pains me to do so, I can’t help but question their happiness. Either vampires are incredible actors, or my friends aren’t as worried as I am about the magic I used to kill the rogue vampires. Aside from initial shock, they haven’t looked my way. They haven’t asked me any questions. This is the second time Jasik has witnessed it, but this was the first time for the others. I expected a greater reaction from them. This magic scares the hell out of me, yet they don’t seem affected. They’re simply happy the fight is over and the rogue is dead. I can’t help but wonder, underneath their smiles and high-fives, are they worried? Are they scared? Do they fear for my life—or theirs? Am I a danger to them? To myself?
I think I am.
What’s keeping me from enjoying our victory is the innate sense that this isn’t over. Something happened tonight—something that didn’t happen last time. Using that magic to kill these rogues felt different. Last time, I released the magic almost as soon as I latched on to it. It was easy. It flowed through me, testing, teasing, and it willingly released me when the time came. This time, I held on too long, and I saw its teeth.
I fear this magic wants to take hold of my body and harness it as its own.
My only question is: am I strong enough to stop it?
When
we reach Amicia’s manor, the vampires’ relaxed demeanor changes. Their happy-go-lucky attitudes morph into the terror I was already feeling. Unfortunately, this is leading us to yet another family meeting.
The parlor is dark when the shades are drawn. At the window frame’s edge, a thin strip of light shines into the room. It’s more than enough for my heightened senses to see the room clearly.
I can see the dust that sparkles in the air, coating it in a magical haze. There’s something about the way it glitters that makes the manor feel emptier than it actually is. Thankfully, the vampires of the house have already retired for the day. They’re well on their way to dreamland, and I’m left with the hunters and Amicia.
I don’t feel as threatened when it’s just us, even though I probably should. These five will stop at nothing to protect the vampires of this house. That’s Amicia’s promise to them as their sire. This is why they live in nests.
But what happens when she needs to protect them from me?
Holland trudges into the room, rubbing his eyes. He stretches and yawns so loudly, it makes me sleepy. I yawn too, and a still-broken rib protests by sending a stabbing pain into my gut. I grunt behind a clenched jaw. I don’t want the others to see that I’m still recovering from our fight.
My body aches as bones mend, and I’m so hungry, I could drink an entire cow. My head burns, my eyes are tired, and my chest is sore. I’ve healed enough not to worry about things like internal bleeding and organ transplants—as if that were really an option for me—but I need a good feeding and a long day’s rest before I’m back to normal.
I shift in my seat, desperately searching for but never finding a more comfortable position. My skin tingles, and I turn to find Jasik watching me, eyes concerned. Unlike the others, I don’t see fear in his eyes. I see only his worry—and his devotion. I remember our almost-kiss from earlier, and my cheeks grow warm. I’m blushing, and I quickly look away.
Holland grumbles something about it being too early for him. I remember it is dawn. He lives on a human’s schedule, not a vampire’s. It may be late for us, but it’s really early for him.
“I’m not a morning person,” Holland says as he falls into the only open spot in the room save for the hardwood floor. He’s sitting directly beside Jeremiah, who squirms in his seat. The two are sitting together on a small couch.
As I look around the room, I notice Hikari snickering. Jeremiah rolls his eyes in response. I find joy in their interaction because, at this very moment, no one is thinking about me or this power or how the heck we’re going to fix this mess. It’s like it never happened.
“I’m glad to see everyone is home safely,” Amicia says. Her usual long black hair is pulled back from her face. It’s shiny and sleek, like she recently oiled it. She’s wearing satin pajamas. The pants trail the floor as she sweeps her legs up to sit cross-legged on the chair. She folds her hands in her lap and waits for someone to speak.
“We wouldn’t have survived without Ava.” Jasik says what we’re all thinking. I still feel his eyes on me, but I don’t glance at him.
“I assumed you would benefit from that magic again,” Amicia says. She’s looking at me. Her crimson eyes are void of emotion.
“How are you feeling, Ava?” Holland asks. He leans forward and rests his elbows against his knees. He’s wearing pajamas as well—a plain white T-shirt and dark-blue flannel pants.
I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
Holland arches a brow, his forehead creased by his concern. I don’t miss how the others jostle in their seats as well. They want answers and to feel comfortable sleeping in their beds tonight.
“What do you mean?” Holland asks. His voice is soft but firm. If he has to, he will press this matter until I break.
I exhale slowly and opt for honesty. “I’m afraid this magic isn’t natural.”
Holland nods. “I suppose it’s not, but then again, vampires aren’t natural either.”
“And witches are?” Jeremiah says sharply.
“Jeremiah,” Amicia scolds.
He offers her a look of apology and leans back against the couch. He crosses his arms over his chest, and his leg brushes against Holland’s. They both freeze. I watch this reaction as I better explain my feelings.
“What if it’s not supposed to be inside me?” I say softly, eying the two carefully.
Holland’s jaw clenches tightly when Jeremiah’s leg rubs against his once more. I hear his breath catch. Holland squeezes his hands into balled fists and clears his throat.
“I still don’t know how I’m doing this,” I continue. Silently, I add, Doesn’t that concern anyone? Everyone seems so comfortable and confident when we’re in battle and I need to tap into this magic, but I fear we must be cautious. We still have no idea what’s going on. This is new territory for everyone, including Holland, Amicia’s go-to guide for all things magical.
“It doesn’t seem to be hurting you,” Jasik counters.
“I’m not sure it wants to hurt me,” I whisper.
“What do you mean?” Malik asks. I almost forgot he was even in the room. He has a silent way about him that makes him forgettable in the best way. I could definitely see him working as a spy for some secret government program. If he were human.
“What if it’s trying to control me?” I ask.
The room falls silent for several breaths. It’s a painful, aching silence that threatens to unnerve and bring to life my innermost secrets. The last thing I need is to live with my demons.
When Holland answers me, his eyes are tired from sleep, but I do not miss the sincerity of his words.
“Ava, I promise, I’m going to help you learn to control this magic. I won’t leave until I know you’re safe.”
After our meeting, I dash upstairs, forgoing a binge-eating session with the others in favor of solace and sleep. I’m exhausted, emotional, and way too vulnerable right now—a lousy combination for the girl who just saved the day.
Ever since I became a vampire, my life has been one nonstop ride of chaos and destruction. I haven’t had much time to process and reflect. As I lean against my closed bedroom door and stare into my nearly vacant room, dressed only with items someone else had to lend me thanks to the witches who left me two whole minutes to gather my life’s possessions before seeking refuge elsewhere, I take the time to consider what has become of my life.
I shower as I think, carefully washing my stomach. I’ve healed from my wounds, and my skin bears no mark of the truth that once existed there. Yet I feel the invisible scars as if I’ve been marked for life. I feel each and every time that monster assaulted my body. I shiver as I flash back to that moment—the moment he forced his hand into my core and threatened me with death. He found joy in my pain, and it sickens me that monsters like this live when so many worthy of life have died.
I think of Papá, and a knot forms in my throat. I reach for my bare chest, grazing my fingertips over the empty space between my collar bones. I haven’t worn my cross necklace in two months. That’s a long time to be lost.
I try not to cry, try not to focus on the monster, but my mind still wanders back to his face. The look in his eyes when he hurt me makes me happy he’s dead, but now I’m left to deal with the aftermath of his destruction.
I wish I could talk to Papá. He always had a way of explaining the world to me in a way I could understand, which should be a nearly impossible feat since he was speaking to a toddler. He was robbed of the opportunity to explain it to me now, when I understand and have lived through so much more than even he ever imagined possible.
When I’m dressed in a nightgown Hikari gave me, I climb onto the massive four-poster bed and unwrap the sheer fabric, letting the sections fall naturally. Soon I’m encased in a lacy paradise and staring at my ceiling. I glance around and can see my room through the sheer fabric. I know it’s not secluded, but this tiny space inside a larger room inside a manor full of vampires makes me feel safe.
I stare at the ceiling a
gain. The fan is set to high, and each swoosh sends the little baby hairs at my crown fluttering. The rest of my hair is damp and still slick to the touch. I barely dried it before combing it with my fingers and climbing into bed. My nightgown clings to my moist skin, and the sheets are now damp. I shift uncomfortably, trying to find a dry spot on my pillow. I only succeed in dampening the entire thing, so I flip it over. The other side is cool and dry, and it eases the tension in my shoulders.
I exhale dramatically as I get comfortable and consider my situation. At seventeen, I shouldn’t have the fate of our two covens on my shoulders. I still worry about Darkhaven and the humans who call it home. Now I worry about surrounding towns discovering me. Knowing I’m some sort of weird half-breed makes everything harder.
Sure, having such an insane amount of power at my fingertips feels awesome, and I love the way it envelops my entire body when I tap into it. I feel so safe, like nothing in the world can harm me, which is a pretty wicked feeling when I’m already in the midst of an epic battle.
Even so, with the rogue vampire dead, I do feel like a weight has been lifted. It feels like I can finally breathe, like I can release a breath I’ve been holding for months—except I had no idea I was even holding my breath. Only now, when the rogue vampire is dead, do I realize how much power he had over me.
The more I think about it, the worse I feel about myself. How did it come to that? How was I besting his minions in battle but losing an emotional war? Why did he affect me so deeply? Will every rogue who sets his sights on me make me feel this way? Or did I fear him because he stole my life from me?
I know Jasik is harboring guilt over turning me, and I haven’t yet talked to him about it. He needs to know I don’t blame him for his decision to finish my transition the night I was dying. Without his help, I wouldn’t have survived. I’m grateful, but I know how hard it was for him to go against everything he was brought up to believe. Amicia has strict rules about this. No vampire not sired by her is allowed refuge in her manor, yet she still allows me to stay. Is that because of her feelings for Jasik or for me?
Dark Magic (Darkhaven Saga Book 2) Page 8
