Because this must be a dream. It has to be. Am I still asleep? Again, I dig my nails into my palms and wince at the pain. But I do not wake.
I remember my training. Mamá was clear in our lessons. Crows are evil. They are the bringers of death and malice. I am certain this is an omen. A warning. A threat.
I stand abruptly and make the quick decision to scare the bird from our property. I shout and wave my arm at it, but it does not budge. Instead, slowly, it crooks its head, allowing me to see its stark profile against the moonlit sky. Its beak is long and sharp, and it cackles again.
The bird is watching me. Its beady, gleaming eye glistens in the starlight, and even though I know it is not possible, I am certain it is smiling at me. As if it knows something I do not.
Jasik treads down the stairs just as I am walking into the sitting room. The sight of him still leaves me breathless sometimes—even though I am still trying to calm down after my encounter with the crow. I am feeling dizzy and lightheaded, and my heart is beating so hard I am certain my sire hears it.
He frowns when he sees me, and I wonder if I am flushed. I swipe at my forehead, finding it dewy. I imagine my cheeks are about three shades redder than usual, and from the look of concern etched across his face, Jasik knows something is amiss. As much as I strive to conceal these parts of myself from him, I know I won’t be able to keep these secrets for long.
“Ava? Is everything okay?” he asks as he strides toward me.
He closes the space between us in a couple of easy steps. Before I know it, he is before me. He reaches forward, gliding his fingertips along the curve of my jaw, tipping my head back so our gazes lock. I push away his hand, not wanting my eyes to betray my inner turmoil before I am ready.
“What is it?” he asks, his voice wavering. He grows more confused—frightened even—with each second I do not respond.
I shake my head, a desperate attempt to convince myself what I saw was nothing more than coincidence. All of these things—my dreams, my innate fear, the crow—could be chalked up to an overactive imagination. They could also be the product of the turmoil we experienced not so long ago. Our anxiety is heightened, so it makes sense that I am not feeling like myself. If I label them as deviant, then the threat I might be foreseeing becomes real. It exists, and it is a force to be reckoned with.
And I’m not sure that will help our situation. The vampires put on a brave face, but we are still broken. The few weeks that have passed since I hexed the witches were not enough to mend our fractured souls, and this certainly hasn’t been enough time to wage war on yet another enemy.
“Ava…” Jasik says, voice stern. My sire is making it clear that he will not let this go. Even though I crave silence, I can’t keep pushing him away. The flicker inside me that tethers our souls together won’t allow it either. Our bond might not grant him total control over me, but it’s enough to make me want to please him.
“It’s nothing,” I admit. “I was in the cemetery. I saw…” I hesitate.
The significance of crows is important in witchcraft, so I doubt Jasik will understand. He might brush off this as nothing more than migrating birds. While that might seem ideal, I am conflicted. I’m not sure what’s worse—keeping the vampires in the dark or exposing them to my other side and watching as they dismiss my witchy concerns.
“What did you see? Is this about your nightmare?” he asks, breaking my silence.
I suck in a sharp breath. So I did wake him. He does know. I swallow hard, shaking my head. Even as I deny the connection between my dreams and the crow stalking us outside, something within me stirs. The part of me who was raised in a coven knows better. The spirit witch is certain the two are connected, even if I can’t quite speak it aloud.
“There was a crow,” I blurt. “Perched on one of the tree branches. It was watching me. I’m sure of it.”
Jasik frowns, pauses, and I think he is considering his words before responding. Maybe I was wrong about him. After all, he has never doubted me before. So why now? I fear my insecurities are getting the best of me. Ever since we lost Will and the others, I have lost my faith, and the emptiness inside me has filled with resentment and uncertainty. I need to find my strength, and my faith, if there truly is danger afoot.
“Are crows significant?” he asks.
I nod.
“What do they mean?”
“Crows can cross between the spiritual and physical world. They carry souls over to the other side after death,” I explain.
“That doesn’t necessarily sound strange,” Jasik says. “We just experienced…casualties.” I do not miss his hesitation or how he emphasizes casualties as if it physically hurt him to speak the word aloud. Knowing the pain he is hiding, my chest burns for him.
“Crows are not good omens,” I say, speaking slowly, firmly. “These birds are tricksters by nature.”
“Okay,” Jasik says, nodding, thinking. He meets my gaze. “So what do we do?”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing we can do except prepare for the inevitable.”
“And what is that?” he asks.
Just as I am about to explain how bad things might get, especially if both my dreams and the crows are meant as warnings, Jeremiah and Holland descend the stairs and step into the sitting room. Although we are in the same room, Jasik and I are standing closer to the entrance to the conservatory, so a small part of me hopes they don’t notice us. The last thing I need right now is to explain my dreams—the ones where I watch Jasik die, night after night, in a million different horrible ways—to the rest of our nest.
Holding hands and smiling, the two lovers laugh, paying us no attention, as if they are the only two beings left in existence. I welcome this invisibility, but it does not last long. As soon as I acknowledge it in my mind, it dissipates and we are seen.
“Morning!” Holland cheers when he finally sees us.
I nod at him and avert my gaze, settling on the floor. My eyes will betray every conflicted emotion circling around my mind, and I am not ready for him to see them. At least not yet. Not until after I tell Jasik about my dreams.
“Uh-oh,” Jeremiah says. “I know that look.”
I dare a peek, relieved to find him staring at Jasik, not me. My relief is short-lived because I make the mistake of glancing at Holland, who drops Jeremiah’s hand and shuffles over to me.
“What is it?” Holland asks. “What’s happened?”
“Ava is seeing crows,” Jasik says.
The color leaves Holland’s face, and I swallow the knot that forms in my throat. I thought I could convince myself that there is nothing to worry about, that this was only a coincidence. But the look of absolute terror strewn across Holland’s face tells me I was reckless and stupid for holding on to such childish dreams.
I don’t live in a world of light anymore. I reside in darkness, where the monsters lurking threaten every aspect of my new life. I should have known they would come for Jasik. I was ill-prepared before. Now, I must ready myself for war because I will protect my sire at all costs.
“What does that mean?” Jeremiah asks. He looks from Jasik to Holland to me, becoming increasingly puzzled because no one speaks. It occurs to me that Jeremiah knows very little about witchcraft, which is strange considering he dates a witch.