“It’s a very bad omen,” Holland whispers. He stares at me curiously, and I assume he is wondering why I kept this from him, from everyone. As a spirit user, I should have seen this coming long before crows showed up. And I did. I just ignored the signs.
“How bad are we talking?” Jeremiah asks, utterly blind to the internal conversation I am having with Holland as I use my eyes to beg for his forgiveness.
“Crows are bringers of death,” I say, defeated. I know hiding this from them wasn’t my smartest decision, but can they blame me for expecting peace after everything we have been through?
“What does that even mean?” Jeremiah asks. “Are you telling me I need to be scared of a bird?” He doesn’t bother hiding his humor in the idea of a vampire fearing an animal. After all, we are supposed to be at the top of the food chain. Very little should frighten us.
Holland sighs heavily, clearly irritated by his boyfriend’s bluntness, and I am beginning to understand why their relationship did not last the first time around. That only saddens me now. After so much loss, we need a little love in our lives.
“Yes,” I say, hoping to save Holland from being the one to answer Jeremiah. “Be afraid because crows are only the first sign. Something sinister always follows.”
“Something sinister? Like what?” Jeremiah asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What should we look for?” Jasik asks, ignoring his ally and directing his question to me.
Something flashes between us, and in my mind’s eye, I see my dream unfold. Jasik may be standing before me perfectly healthy, perfectly safe, completely fine, but he is also bursting into flames, his ash blowing away before I even realize he is gone.
How can I tell him this? If my nightmares were visions of what is to come, then how can I reveal his future? How am I supposed to explain my sire’s days are numbered? The clock is ticking steadily down, and the approaching buzzer rings all around me, even now, even when I know he is okay.
There is a reason I haven’t confessed my nightmares to him. Beneath all of this inherent strength, I am truly weak, and the thought of losing yet another friend fills me with an anguish I have never before experienced. I would give up all that I have, every power at my disposal, if only I could guarantee we would finally be safe.
“That all depends on what is coming,” Holland cuts in.
I glance over, silently thanking him for rescuing me after my lips fall numb.
“Do you have any idea what that might be?” Jasik asks me. His gaze is still fixed on me. My sire is ever persistent, and I know he will not accept silence. Now is the time.
I gnaw on my lower lip, knowing this is it. This is the moment I must confess, spilling all my dirty secrets about my nightmares and what happens within them. I just wish I didn’t have to reveal what might be Jasik’s death while standing in front of the others. While it might not be my right to keep his destiny a secret, it is his. If I told him the first time I saw him die in my dreams, everything might be different now. He might understand my desire for make-believe.
“Crows are not the worst of it,” I admit, allowing the shame to coat my words.
“What do you mean?” Jasik asks.
While my voice breaks and squeaks at the most inopportune time, his is strong, unwavering in his interrogation of my ulterior motives.
I exhale slowly, building my resolve. Finally, when I feel brave enough to admit what I have seen, I open my mouth to speak, knowing the words are now eager to spill from me, but I am silenced. I am stopped just when I am prepared to detail every horrific dream, every lived nightmare, because the front door crashes open. I hear the stained-glass windows’ protest—the ear-piercing splinter of glass nearly shattering upon impact pulsates through me.
We all jerk toward the door, unsure of what is to come. All prepared for what may be our darkest moment, I watch as Holland readies himself to call upon his magic to aid Jeremiah, even as Jeremiah sidesteps to block his lover from what may be an attacker.
We release the tension in our bodies as Malik stomps into the sitting room and halts when he sees us. Dressed in combat attire, he was clearly patrolling the forest surrounding the manor, a nightly ritual we all sign up for—even our newly elected leader. After spending the last several months hunting these very woods, I know returning home so soon can only mean one thing: he found something.
“What is it?” Jasik asks. “What happened?” He steps forward, inching closer to Malik, who is clearly shaken by whatever is happening outside the manor.
Not usually one to showcase such visible emotions, Malik clenches his jaw, his body growing rigid as Jasik continues to step forward.
Releasing a long, slow breath, Malik glances at me, and I freeze. I see it in his eyes. It’s there—something dark, something dangerous.
Does he know?
Holland peers back at me, anxiety muddling his normally bright eyes, but I ignore him. I don’t need to look at him to know what he is thinking. Whatever spirit tried to warn me about is here—in Darkhaven. It has begun, and based on Malik’s reaction, whatever it is likely has everything to do with me. And my silence over the past several weeks.
Outside, the wind howls. The transition between seasons is never friendly to this part of the world. Winter is making way for spring, but it is not relenting without a fight.
An icy blast of air bellows through the foyer, where the front door has been left open. I shiver, even though I do not experience the cold the way I once did. It does not threaten my life the way it does a mortal, but I am aware of its presence, like a thick cloak hanging over me. That isn’t all that is there, though. Something else lingers in the darkness, and it is close—even now.
Malik still has not answered Jasik’s question, and it is obvious he doesn’t intend to. He waits, but as the silence stretches on, the seconds seem to last a lifetime.
“Malik—”
Jasik stops. In unison, we suck in a sharp breath. All at once, we are aware. We sense it. We smell it. We feel it looming ever closer, nearing the manor with precision, as if it has been coming for us all along.
I release my breath first, only to gulp down another just as quickly. I have loathed this very scent ever since it first emerged in my dreams. Overshadowing my better judgment, I say aloud what we all know to be true.
“It’s smoke,” I confess. “Darkhaven is on fire.”
But my sudden rush of fear for the unsuspecting humans of my small town is overridden by my dread for my lover. Because only I know that this fire is meant not for the people of Darkhaven but for us.
For me.
For him.
Chapter Three
My feet pound against the earth, the vibration of its vicious beating resonating through my legs. It soothes my nervous muscles—the very ones I have not used in battle for far too long.
I feel the call to war like a wolf feels the pull of the moon. I have come to understand that chaos is in my blood, and the reality of that makes the crystal dangling at my neck buzz with excitement. I smile as it warms against my skin. In these moments of turmoil, it sparks to life, reminding me that it is only one magical burst away from aiding me if I should ever need its assistance.
As Jasik, Malik, and I swiftly approach the village of Darkhaven, my heart is ready for this fight, but my mind is elsewhere. I replay my conversation with the other hunters over and over again, a sickening, twisted way to continue torturing myself.