My hair is dull, frizzy, and lifeless. My skin is imperfect and dry. My eyes are likely murky, a muddled brown color so drastically different from their usual crimson glow. I squeeze my eyes shut so he does not have to look at them, wishing I could get the vision of me out of my mind. Even I do not want to look at the mess I have become, so why would he want to see me this way?
I feel his fingertips grace my skin, and I hold my breath. After several seconds pass, I choke out a gasp. I open my eyes to find him tucking loose strands of my hair behind my ear. He moves so calmly, so quietly, and he touches me so softly, as if he is afraid he might harm me with just his fingers. I imagine I probably do look that weak to him. After all, I am broken, feeling shattered beyond repair. I feel lifeless and frail. The fire within me that attracted him to me has been smothered, and all that is left is its smoky remains.
Gnawing on my lower lip, I glance up at him. Even when he kneels beside me, he towers over my cowering frame. I flinch when he moves quickly, and I watch him frown, his eyes pained by my reaction to him. I know he would not hurt me, and I hate that I made him think I might worry about that now.
“Ava…” Jasik whispers my name; it almost sounds like a plea. He sounds as broken as I feel.
“For Christ’s sake, what have they done to you?” Hikari says. I steal a glance, finding her closing the space between her and Will. She crouches down, resting her hand on his back. Her black pixie hair is spiky and shiny. The moonlight reflects off each pointed strand, betraying her overuse of product. She looks greasy, but something about seeing her this way reminds me of life at the manor.
“We need to get out of here,” Jeremiah says. My gaze finds his, and I see sorrow in his eyes. Why is he unhappy? Does he wish he would have aided me last night? I shake my head, hoping he can understand my meaning. The only reason Will and I survived is because we are—were—hybrids. Jeremiah would have died last night if he attempted to help me. And I could not live with myself if we lost him too.
Jeremiah tears his gaze from mine and remains focused on the witches. His hands are balled into fists at his sides. His knuckles are ashy, and his usually deep, dark skin is coated in a fine dust from winter’s cruel, dry weather. I scratch at my hands, feeling my own desire for a rich lather.
I begin to shake, the reality of the bitter cold sinking in. I think Jasik mistakes my shudder as something more, because he pulls away from me again. The separation between the two of us is almost too much to bear. My body aches for him, and I am desperate to hold him close. I want to feel safe again. I want to feel strong.
I look at him, but he is looking at something in the distance. I take this moment to consider how these events have altered the course of his life too. Will he ever feel comfortable around me? When I look from vampire to vampire, they all seem uneasy. I assume it is because they are surrounded by their enemy, but what if it is something more? What if things never return to normal?
Malik, Jasik’s biological older brother, is watching the witches. He does not look at me. As my trainer, I wonder if I have upset him. This is why he pushes me to the very edge of my limits and then watches as I fall off the cliff. He wanted me to be strong enough to survive any attack, and I did the exact opposite. I walked into the witches’ trap with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I was too stubborn and hardheaded to see what the vampires saw the moment they met my coven.
Malik has his dagger drawn, and he traces circles in the leather-strapped handle. His gaze lands on each witch, and then he repeats the process. He never lingers for too long on any one witch. Always the warrior, I know he is cultivating a plan right now. I am just not sure if saving Will and me is part of it.
The only vampire I cannot bear to look at is Jasik, my sire. I hate that his eyes reveal his disappointment. I fear the harshness of his words and cannot handle another betrayal, so I do not even ask him to take me with him.
I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly, I draw tears. With one slow, overdrawn exhalation, I open them and meet my sire’s gaze. His crimson irises sparkle in the darkness. Should I be scared of being so close to a vampire? I haven’t any way to protect myself if he chooses to lash out.
“My Ava,” Jasik whispers. His thumb traces the edge of my jaw, lingering at the center of my chin. He presses slightly, firmly into the divot there, and smiles at me.
I fall against him, relishing in the feeling of being so near to something so safe, so loving, so true. I burrow my face in the crevice of his neck and pretend we are not at Mamá’s house. We are not surrounded by witches. We are not on the brink of yet another war.
We are in the manor. We are home. We are safe.
“Time to go now, love,” Jasik says, and I fall deeper into the depths. He smells like mint and the winter breeze and…blood.
I open my eyes, inhaling deeply as I take in his essence. I grab on to him tighter, wanting to take in his scent. He holds me, cocooning my body in his embrace, as if his arms alone could shield me from my hellish life.
“Step away from her,” Mamá says. I did not hear her approach us, but I do sense her anger. Like Abuela, she wanted me to suffer. She wanted to witness the vampires abandon me just as the witches had.
Jasik tenses, his arms turning to impenetrable shields of pure steely strength. I do not fear for Mamá’s safety, but I know she should.
Jasik releases me and stands. I follow suit, facing him as he stares down at the witches. They attempt to corner the vampires, to encircle them in some magical binding. I know nothing would make the witches happier than allowing me to watch the vampires die a brutal, fiery death, but the vampires are far too smart for their feeble tricks.
“We are leaving,” Jasik says.
My sire slides his hand against mine, interlocking his fingers with my own. His skin is cold, and I wonder how I feel to him. Do I feel the same? Jasik does not acknowledge the changes in my body, but I certainly do.
I glance at Will, who is being aided by Hikari. While her back is turned, Jeremiah is watching the witches carefully. Prepared to defend his pack, he is a hungry wolf ready to strike. Will falls against Hikari’s much smaller frame and lets her guide him away from the witches. She is able to successfully retrieve him because their attention is focused solely on me.
“You are not taking her anywhere,” Mamá says.
Jasik’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening around my hand. If the witches pooled their air magic and attempted to yank me free from his grasp, I fear I would be dismembered right before his eyes.
I glance over my shoulder and say, “Por favor, Mamá, no hagas esto más difícil de lo que tiene que ser.”
I beg her not to make this harder than it has to be. There does not need to be bloodshed. No one has to die today. The witches won. I am no longer a hybrid. Now they can let me go.
“Cállate, niña,” Abuela says. “Perteneces con nosotros.”
I swallow the knot that forms and listen to her admonition.
I belong with them.
What she really means to say is I belong to them.
“You are never going to let me go,” I whisper. “I will never be free.”
Jasik soothes my fears with the touch of his hand. He caresses my skin with his thumb, drawing circular motions to root me in place. I look to him, and silently, he tells me everything will be okay. And I believe him.