“I am fine.”
“I am worried about you,” he replies.
I emphasized again that I was fine, even though I knew I was not. I was not prepared to admit it aloud.
“I think it is time we move on, let it go,” Jasik says.
At that point, I stormed out, childlike and ornery, but I did not care. I was tired of being told to get over it. To deal with it and move on. Will deserved more respect than that. He deserved to be mourned, and I would do just that.
“It tastes better when warmed,” Malik says, as if I did not already know that. Still, I am grateful for the distraction. The hunters ground me, and without them, I would never be freed from the past’s clutch.
“Were you—um—visiting Will again?” he asks, and I do not miss his tone.
I narrow my gaze at him. I refuse to answer because he knows exactly where I was. I would not be surprised if he were the one I caught watching me earlier today.
Instead of responding, I turn on my heel, walking around him. I need to escape. When the vampires are awake, they are everywhere. The air becomes stifling, almost smothering. During the day, I am confined to this place, but at night, I can roam free. Of course, I never go far. I fear what would happen if I found myself closer to my former coven and farther from the vampires.
The witches are powerless, thanks to me, but I harness their magic now. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant that dangles from a thin chain around my neck. Using Will’s spell, I trapped their magic in the black onyx crystal I now covet, but I fear what might happen when the magic inside calls to them—and they hear it.
I grasp the crystal in my hand, and it hums. It is a silent echo, something only I can hear. Even the vampires, with all of their heightened senses and enviable qualities, cannot feel what I feel when the magic contained inside the crystal yearns for freedom. The darkness is there too. The evil the witches created when they dabbled in black magic is confined within this gem. And it can never be released.
I hear Malik sigh heavily before walking away. I do not look back, not even when his footfalls tread lightly away. The door to the kitchen swings open, and I am alone. Finally, I relax my shoulders, dropping my arm. The pendant dangles against my skin, and I shiver.
“Ava,” someone says. I hear his approach, and a shudder works its way through me. I turn to face him, and he smiles at me. It is soft and pure, his eyes shining and bright. They are crimson in color and glow bright neon red whenever he looks at me. I don’t think he knows his eyes betray his deep yearning for me, but I live for it.
“Jasik,” I whisper.
Suddenly, everything is better. As my sire strides toward me, looking sleepy yet beautiful at the same time, the world falls away. He is one of the few men I would call beautiful.
Unlike his brother, Malik, who is carved from sharp, muscular edges, Jasik is softer, leaner. Still toned, still able to change from loving to monstrous in the blink of an eye, something about Jasik speaks to me on a cellular level. I ache for him in ways I never experienced before.
He steps closer, gliding one arm behind me to pull me close, pressing firmly at the arch of my lower back. With his other arm, he tangles his fingers through my hair, which hangs in soft waves at my shoulders, until he reaches the nape of my neck. His grip is firm as he angles my head upward. The moment his lips graze mine, fireworks erupt within my chest. Jasik kisses me, softly but assuredly, and it consumes me completely. Everything slips away, leaving nothing but my innate desire for him.
When we pull away, I am smiling. Something about Jasik makes me forget the pain, the death and longing. I feel at peace, safe within his arms. In these brief moments, when we allow ourselves to relish in our purest, rawest animal instincts, time stops. It is just us, and I happily allow the world to dissipate. But he cannot press his lips against mine forever, and when I lose that connection, I am left with nothing but an endless pit, awash in despair. We can only pretend everything is okay for so long.
“Good morning,” he whispers, his breath cool against my lips. He smells like mint and vanilla, like the earth and the sea all at once. He releases me, tracing his fingertips down my arms until he slides his hands against mine. We thread our fingers together, and I relish in the connection at my palms. So much of my new life is dark and lonely, empty and hollow. I need more of these moments—or I might truly lose my mind.
“Morning,” I say softly. My lips are still wet with his affection, and my insides still hum from the excitement of being so close to my sire.
Our relationship has escalated since that night, and now, I guess we are an official couple. We never have any serious conversations, but with the risk of death around every corner, I almost prefer it this way. I do not want to waste time questioning my feelings. Not anymore. Not when our lives can be cut short at any moment. We are promised eternity from a hand with crossed fingers. This life is a twisted, wickedly cruel game, but it is the only one we know how to play.
I am still smiling at Jasik, staring into his eyes like a child with a schoolgirl crush, when Jeremiah tramples down the steps beside us. I glance at him, and he wiggles his eyebrows at me, his gaze darting between Jasik and me. I feel my cheeks heat and glance away.
Jasik and I have not discussed our relationship with each other, let alone the rest of the manor, so when we are caught in these moments, it almost feels like a tryst. I know our love is not forbidden—not between two creatures who seek sanctuary in the night—but it certainly feels like it is, with his being my sire and my being a former witch.
Briefly, I consider mentioning Holland, knowing Jeremiah’s revitalized relationship of deepening love with the witch will surely silence the vampire, but I do not. Because secretly, my relationship with these vampires is all that is keeping me sane. When they are not around, the silence is unsettling and the shadow creeps closer.
“Look alive, people,” Jeremiah says. He jumps from the final stair, landing on the floorboards beside us. The hardwood vibrates, the manor pulsating at his intrusion. “Family meeting.”
I frown, glancing from Jeremiah to Jasik, who looks equally as surprised as I feel.
“Did Malik say anything to you about a meeting?” I ask.
Jasik shakes his head, and together, we walk into the parlor, plopping down on one of the sofas as we wait for the others to arrive.
“I am sure it is nothing,” Jasik says.
I nod but do not respond.
“He plans to discuss our lack of sustenance,” Jeremiah says, answering my earlier concerns about our dangerously low blood supply.
My fellow hunter is seated directly across from me, and though I watch him from the corner of my eye, I feign disinterest as he and Jasik continue their conversation and fears over locating more blood. Instead, I fidget with the hem of my shirt, pulling at already-loosened strings, when the slow rumble of approaching vampires creaks closer.
When I do glance up, I catch Jeremiah’s steely gaze. He might be speaking to Jasik, but his attention is on me, sending a wave of irritation crashing through me. Like the others, Jeremiah is concerned. He worries about the effect our loss has had on me.
The vampires believe I am focusing too much on death, and by visiting the gravesite each night, I am welcoming agony when I should be grateful I survived. What they do not understand is focusing on Will helps me forget about everything else I lost. Amicia might not have been my sire, but she was my leader. The witches might have been awful, but they were the only family I had. Liv was my best friend. I watched my grandmother die, and I used every bit of my power to confine an ancient evil in an amulet that I now must protect. I am only seventeen. I am supposed to be thinking about boys and sneaking out to see friends, not planning funerals and protecting a town full of blissfully ignorant humans.