They chastise me for my decision to become a vampire, as if I had another option on my deathbed. But in that same breath, they too broke a promise when they performed that spell. The witches have never been anything more than hypocrites.
“How are you feeling?” Jasik asks, breaking my concentration.
I shrug, not looking at him. I know he wants honesty, but can he handle my truth? I am scared and angry and unsure of my future. I do not know what it means to be linked to a witch, and the only person with the ability to unveil the truth has no intention of aiding me now.
I am not even sure if she is alive.
I freeze, a cold ache nestling deep into my bones.
If Mamá dies and we are linked, will I die too?
“Ava?” Malik says.
I blink away the picture being drawn in my mind to glance at him. He looks eerily similar to his younger brother, with only minor differences. Both are tall and muscular, but Malik has a much bulkier frame. Jasik is leanly muscled, making him look much younger than his older brother, even though I am sure they are only a few years apart.
“Huh? What?” I ask.
I try to see the vampires, but all I see is a vision of myself dying. But I do not die a mortal death. Instead, my heart implodes, my body combusting into a million tiny grains of ash and dust. In one single moment, everything that I am is gone. I leave nothing behind—no traces, no memories of the life I lived.
I am shaking, eyes lost in a haze of things that have not even happened yet, things that might never happen. My vision blurs, and I do not sense the vampire who comes to my side. I feel an arm wrap around me, pulling me tightly, and then I feel another. Cocooned between the two vampires, I relinquish my hold on my strength and burrow my face into an unknown chest.
Finally, I release my pain, my agony, my fear, and my doubts. I do not know how long we stand like this, but by the time I have finished, I am utterly exhausted. My eyelids are heavy, my legs weak, and I worry I cannot finish the hike to Amicia’s nest. So I rely on the vampires’ strength to find my way home.
Every time I find my way back here, I am amazed by the manor’s beauty. The forest breaks into a small clearing, and I stumble upon the vampire nest I never knew existed in Darkhaven. Amicia and her vampires have resided here for years, all while I was patrolling these very woods.
The manor is three stories tall with breathtaking Victorian architecture. It houses startling overhangs, sharp edges, and rows of stained-glass windows. Smiling, I stare at it from the tree line.
Finally, I made it home. I escaped, and I relish in the thought that I will never experience the wrath of the witches ever again.
The moment I come face-to-face with the short fence that encloses the manor, I am awash with joy. There is something about this house that makes me feel safe. There is an aura to it. If this house could talk, it would spill endless secrets about the goings-on over the years. It has borne witness to horrific acts of violence and vengeance, but it has also offered security and warmth to souls lost after death.
The surrounding fence is formed by slabs of iron wrought together. Each point of the daggers ends in two sharp slabs of metal that form tiny crosses. My gaze trails the fence as I begin my descent into their world, into the world I was cast out of.
I reach for my metal cross, curling my palm around the peaks. The moment my skin comes into contact with the religious relic, nothing happens. I do not burn. I do not feel safer or protected by what this symbol represents. I just feel…empty. I feel nothing at all.
I sigh and release the cross. Letting my arms dangle at my sides, I take another step forward. The moment I pass the threshold, I feel at ease. I shield my eyes from the moon’s bright rays and search for the weather vane. Comprised of a sharp, startling spear, it sits prominently at the forefront of the manor’s highest peak.
“Everything okay?” Jasik asks.
Tearing my gaze from that which I seek, I glance at him and frown.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You just…seem different,” Jasik says.
I try to smile, but I know it does not reach my eyes. The truth is, I am different. The only thing I have to hold on to right now is that I am experiencing this place all over again. As if I have never visited before, I am starstruck by the manor’s beauty. I suppose after being held hostage and nearly murdered, my vision of life has changed.
I do not respond to his accusation as I walk the cobblestone path toward the manor. The overgrown grass is dead now. It crunches beneath my boots as I make my way closer to what awaits inside. The weeds that once ran rampant through the yard are dried into bushy heaps of dead brush. In the spring, when the warmth returns, they will be rejuvenated, becoming uncontrollable once again.
I allow the hand railings to guide me up the steps. Slowly, I ascend, with the vampires trailing closely behind me.
Perched on the wraparound porch is the same gargoyle I have seen for months now. Over the course of my time with the vampires, the two gargoyles I first encountered have been moved. When I first arrived, they were squatted on either side of the cobblestone walkway that leads visitors directly to the front door. Eventually, one was moved to the back door and the other was placed at the top stair.
Made of hard stone that has been tainted a dark-gray color over years of elemental exposure, the gargoyle is a hellish creature. It looks like a demon who might stand at the gates of hell, and the irony of this being protecting the vampires is not lost on me. I smile when I see him, my fingertips already tingling at the thought of touching his smooth head.
I reach for him, lightly grazing his smooth scalp. Sometimes, I wish he could come alive, but then I think, for all I know, he does. Jasik once told me gargoyles protect vampires during times when they are weakened. These daylight saviors ensure no one invades our home when we slumber, and if that is true, then they do come alive. When bathed in sunlight, they can finally stretch their wings and soar. Only at night, when we are at our strongest, do they finally rest.
When I reach the front door, I grasp the knob. Halting, I close my eyes and listen. I place my other palm flat against the stained-glass window and wait for motion inside. I hear nothing. I feel nothing. I sense nothing. There is only silence and darkness and a hollow void where once lived a vibrant, powerful soul.
I sigh, twist the knob, and walk into the foyer.
The house is dark. When the vampires close the door behind me, I jump at the sound, spinning on my heels to meet a very confused Malik. Jasik is also eyeing me curiously, and I wonder how I must look to them. Suddenly hyperaware that I am basically a human in the midst of a vampire nest, a knot forms in my chest. It takes everything I have to push it down and smile at my friends.
“Ava?”
A familiar voice calls to me.
Holland.
I spin to see him. He is rushing toward me. The drink he is holding is sloshing around his mug, spilling over the sides. By the time he reaches me, it is almost gone, and the trail of dark-brown liquid left in his wake pools on the hardwood floors.
When he is close enough to see me in the streams of moonlight illuminating the manor, he drops his mug completely. It crashes to the ground, smashing into several pieces. He does not move, his gaze scanning, assessing every inch of my face.
“Oh, Ava…” Holland whispers.
He reaches for me. Ever so lightly, his fingertips graze my cheekbones, and I wince when they graze my wound. I remember the awful moment Jasik nearly died right before my eyes. The witch used air magic, molding it into a fierce dagger that penetrated his torso. When it burrowed completely through his flesh, it shot through the air, slicing my cheek in the process.