by Tricia Barr
Chapter 29: Kenzie
Kenzie wandered the cold halls of the vampire quarters, pulling her sweater closer around her shoulders. She had a spell to warm herself up, but she didn’t deserve it. She deserved to be absolutely miserable. Like everyone else she loved.
She’d sent a message to Gram, letting her know that she’d be attempting to come home soon. Gram’s response would’ve been heartwarming—but Kenzie hadn’t told her everything. Not by a long shot.
She’d tried using her magic to contact Leif, to tell him the good news, but he wouldn’t listen. Thanks to her new school schedule, Kenzie only had time between and after classes. That meant Ms. Morton kept interrupting her attempts to magically talk to Leif. She could always tell when the woman arrived, because the despair coming through the connection amped up. Leif wasn’t gone, but he was losing his will to fight. Kenzie could feel it.
She just needed him to hang on a little longer. Which was why she was skipping classes now, trying to get through to him that she wasn’t the enemy.
Kenzie shivered as she remembered the bellowing coming from the dungeon yesterday. On an instinctual level, she knew it was Kol and the other dragon. They were suffering—Kenzie was glad Myreen finally saw that. And thanks to Kenzie’s placement in the human dorms, she got to suffer right along with them, although at the hands of her own guilt, rather than the devices of Draven.
Draven told Kenzie that all Initiates started on the bottom floor, and he couldn’t change the rules on her account. She had a feeling he just wanted her to remember how easily it would be for him to do to her what he did to anyone who crossed him.
And while his implied threat had the intended effect, she was about to cross him, anyway. Even if the shifters hated her for giving Draven daywalker abilities. Even if Wes hated her for turning to Adam for comfort, for letting him feed off her, for liking it on some twisted level. And Mom and Gram? Well, her homecoming looked bleak.
Kenzie cursed herself. She should’ve gotten Myreen out on day one. At least Myreen had finally come around. If she hadn’t? Well, Kenzie couldn’t let everyone else suffer. Not any longer. Not as horribly as everyone was being treated. At least now the suffering was almost over.
She should’ve gone looking for Leif yesterday, after she talked to Myreen. But she hadn’t. She hated herself for even entertaining Adam’s company, but he’d been so excited from the ceremony. How could she refuse? She couldn’t, not without making him suspicious. And he made her forget how miserable she was, if only for a little while. She could get lost in a feeling stronger than her guilt. So she’d indulged.
But today she was skipping classes to make up for it.
She’d sent a message to her instructors telling them she didn’t feel well, which was technically true. And she’d climbed all the way to the top of the citadel—the elevator was useless without an Elite keycard, and she wasn’t about to test her magic on it—and into the towers that housed the special few. She’d start with the tower that led to the purple and silver room she’d first seen Leif in. Hopefully he was there.
Hopefully he’d found some way to escape.
Kenzie mounted the stairs with a groan. Her body was adjusting, but she didn’t think she’d ever really get used to it. Not that she wanted to. If she never saw a stair again once she got out of this place, she’d be okay with that.
The door came into view, and Kenzie approached quietly, her ears perked. Ms. Morton was one of the instructors, so chances were good she’d be working, but vampires could move fast. Kenzie laughed. It was kind of weird she’d come to think of Beatrice as Ms. Morton. First names were strictly forbidden in the classroom. At least she’d realized that Ms. Morton was no angel, despite appearances. She played a very real part in Leif’s torture, although on some level, Ms. Morton suffered while watching Leif suffer.
But it wasn’t like she was letting him go, either.
Kenzie gave a tentative knock. There was a moan, and Kenzie softly pushed the door open. Leif was stretched out on the purple couch, looking as awful as last time—maybe even worse. His burns still hadn’t healed properly, the rest of his skin ghostly white, almost translucent. Deep, dark circles ringed his eyes, making him look almost dead.
Kenzie’s breath caught in her throat. This image would haunt her forever.
Leif cracked an eye and tilted his head her way. “Gemma?” His eyes widened as if seeing a ghost, then narrowed. “Kenzie.”
Kenzie nodded and came into the room, shutting the door behind her. “I’ve been trying to contact you.”
“Why bother?” His head lolled back, and he closed his eyes again.
“Because I’m still trying to get you out of here.”
“So I can burn? I’m not a daywalker anymore, remember?”
The bitterness in Leif’s tone made Kenzie’s eyes sting, and she hardened her chin as she swiped at the building moisture. “No. It’s supposed to be temporary. I tried to make it temporary.”
“And how long is temporary?”
“I don’t know.” Kenzie sighed, walking further into the room.
“You tried to trick me.”
“What?” Kenzie stopped moving toward him, her teeth taking up a miserable chatter. Sure, her body would choose this moment to betray her. “Cheás,” she said, and the chattering stopped, her body warming. If only she had some spell to ease Leif’s pain.
Maybe she shouldn’t have warmed herself, but she didn’t want Leif’s sympathy. She wanted his forgiveness.
“The red hair.” He pointed to his head, then dropped his hands back onto his lap. “You tried to make me think you were her.”
“No.” Kenzie shook her head, the movement becoming more and more emphatic. “You can’t believe that. I didn’t even know she had red hair. When did you ever tell me that? How would I have known?”
Leif hated her. Kenzie could tell by the tone of his voice, the look in his glassy eyes. She didn’t blame him. She hated herself, right now, too. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix all of this.”
Leif waved her away. “Feed your lies to someone who cares.”
Kenzie felt like she’d been punched in the gut. He was right. She’d been waiting for the right time, waiting for an easy way out, waiting to make the perfect escape. She should’ve never settled. She should’ve never let things go this far.
“I love you, Leif Villers,” she whispered, unsure if he could even pick up what she’d said. Hopefully not. Maybe.
At a normal volume, she added, “We’re getting you out of here, I promise.”
Before he could respond, she was gone. The tears flowed freely, blurring her world, making every step a hazard. She ran down the stairs and away from Leif and his mutilated body. Away from his anger. Away from his complete loss of faith in her.
Need fueled each step as she ran to end the suffering, to right all her wrongs. She should’ve studied last night, memorized the spells she’d need to escape, rather than making out with Adam. Why was she still being so careless?
She raced, running until she reached her room. Slamming the door closed, she pulled out her backpack and practically spit out the reveal spell between gasps for air. She slammed the book onto her bed and spoke her family name—a name she no longer felt she deserved. How could she, after everything she’d done?
She opened the grimoire, the pages twinkling their welcome. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the magic, on what she needed to do. She opened her eyes again and flipped to the daywalking spell, wondering if she could figure out how to end Leif’s temporary reversal—if it really was temporary.
But as Kenzie scanned the page, she noticed another spell that trailed onto the next leaf. It was the same writing, and Kenzie was surprised she hadn’t noticed it before. In fact, she was pretty sure it hadn’t been there before.
She rubbed her eyes, then peered at the script again. It was... another spell for vampires? Kenzie’s brows lifted as she tried to decipher the notes. But... it was incomplete.
Kenzie would have to remedy that.
“Thank you, Gemma,” Kenzie said, lifting the book to kiss it, but then deciding that might not be the best idea, seeing how it was magicked. Kenzie wondered what kind of spell Gemma had used to keep her work concealed until now, and what Kenzie had done to unlock it.
There was a knock at her door, and Kenzie started. She went to close the grimoire, but Adam was already inside, sitting on the bed next to her. Dang vampire speed.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well and came to see if there was anything I could do.”
Kenzie swallowed. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
Her body responded to his nearness, her skin tingling, her tongue licking her lips as his kisses filled her memory. She knew on some level that Adam cared for her, and part of her cared for him in return. But he’d never captured her heart.
Not like Wes. Not like Leif.
Kenzie closed her eyes and sighed. She could feel Adam’s smirk. He thought he could own her, body and soul. She wouldn’t correct that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, if she could help it.
“What are you working on?” Adam asked, bending to look closer at the grimoire.
Kenzie grabbed the edge of the book and tried again to close it, but Adam stayed her hand.
“Is this what I think it is?”
Kenzie shrugged. “Depends on what you think it is.”
“Kenzie, do you realize what you have here? Our weakness to copper is only second to the sun. And you can fix that, too!”
Kenzie shook her head. “The spell is incomplete.”
“Not incomplete,” Adam said, squinting at the book. “Unfinished. Look.” He pointed to the page, then flipped back a few pages. “See here? There’s a pattern. If you see this spell”—he flipped forward—“or this one. Or even this. The one you’re working on just needs a closing statement.”
Kenzie leaned back, looking at Adam for what felt like the first time. “Can you read any of this?”
Adam shook his head, laughing. “Most of it, no. But my mind can take in information pretty rapidly and sift through for discrepancies. It’s part of the reason we were able to crack the code for making a hybrid.”
“Seriously?” Kenzie couldn’t help but be impressed, even though the thought of Draven having shifter powers scared the living crap out of her.
Adam beamed, his chest puffing out. “Yeah. It’s kind of my super power.”
Kenzie frowned. “But didn’t you just become a vampire?”
“Oh, I’ve had this ability my whole life. The Beaulieu family prides themselves in breeding smart.”
“Beaulieu...” Kenzie tapped her chin. “Where have I heard that name before?”
“Probably vampire history class.” Adam ran his fingers down Kenzie’s arms, giving her goosebumps.
“Wait a minute. Beaulieu, as in one of the sire lines, Beaulieu?” Kenzie’s heart sped a pace. The sire lines were powerful. And if Adam was from a sire line, and now a vampire...
“That’s right, babe.”
“How does that even work? You weren’t turned by your father, were you?”
Adam laughed. “No. The old man lost that right when he sent me to school to earn my fangs, rather than giving me my birthright when I turned eighteen. I had Draven do it, though that was a feat in itself. The master doesn’t turn just anyone. So I’m sort of from two sire lines.” He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You’re one lucky girl.”
“Oh.” Kenzie shuddered as Adam nibbled at her neck—thankfully, with fangs retracted. She wanted to try to keep her mind clear, which was nearly impossible when he fed on her.
“In fact,” Adam went on, pride shining through his voice, “this brilliant mind of mine helped Draven find his long-lost daughter. If it weren’t for me, none of this would be happening right now.”
Kenzie gaped at him, this time in horror. It was him. He’d set these vipers on Myreen’s mom. He’d made it possible for Draven to fulfill his dream of becoming a hybrid. Maybe they’d have been able to get it all done without Adam, but chances were it would’ve taken longer. Suddenly, she had someone to blame, someone besides herself.
All affection for Adam burned away. He was the enemy. He’d ruined her life, and the lives of countless others, with that brilliant mind of his. A brilliant mind bent on aiding the destructive forces in her life—in the world.
If Adam noticed the change, he didn’t show it. Maybe he thought she was still marveling, because he bent forward and kissed her. And for a moment, Kenzie let him. She put every emotion swirling through her into that kiss, determined it would be their last. This was goodbye. Forever.
When she felt she’d said all she needed to say, Kenzie pulled back.
Adam’s eyes were glossy, a smile on his lips. “There’s that magic I so love.”
Kenzie caressed Adam’s face, then gave a roll of her wrist as she quickly recited the binding spell she’d learned from Gram what felt like an eternity ago. “Fiáscha na olch. Tóggo boggé na folía. Diúltódha darshada.”
Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, and he staggered back until he hit the wall, as if pulled by a magnet. “What did you do?”
“Leich ín dhaermandah.” Kenzie stared into Adam’s eyes as they went glassy and distant. “Sorry babe, but I’m going to need you to forget this conversation ever happened. I was sick, you comforted me, and then you went on your merry way. Oh, and it might be good if you stay away for a bit. You wouldn’t want to catch anything.” Kenzie put her fist over her mouth and fake-coughed. Time to close the spell and seal his memory loss. “Dhaermandah.”
The light came back to Adam’s eyes, and he groaned, trying—and failing—to pull himself away from the wall.
“Oh, crap. Ligam’amach.” The spell of release lifted Adam’s binding, and he fell to his knees.
Adam shook his head as he stood. “See you later.” He left the room without looking back, almost robotic in his movements.
Kenzie heaved a sigh and threw herself back on her bed. After a few breaths, she sat up and focused on the grimoire. If she was serious about helping Myreen break everyone out, then she’d need to know everything. Immediately.
And she was dead serious.
Chapter 30: Kol
“She saved us,” Char said through chattering teeth.
Kol leaned heavily against her. His arms had dropped to the lead-laced floor hours ago, but the skin didn’t burn too badly. The floor wasn’t as well-coated as the bars, apparently. The pain in his shoulder where Hair Gel took the liberty of plucking two more souvenirs—royal blue scales—mixed with his broken arms, ached too much to embrace Char, even if it was for their survival.
She held him, instead.
“Your girl saved us,” Char repeated.
“Is that supposed to be a question?” He felt a wheeze in his lungs.
“Just an observation.” Her tone was thoughtful.
They’d agreed that it would look bad if a vampire came in and saw them outside the cage, or with the door wide open, so while they waited for Myreen to come to their rescue again, they’d climbed back inside and shut the door. Kol just hoped they weren’t making their rescue more difficult.
Kol shifted awkwardly. A nerve in his right thigh felt pinched and the leg had gone partially numb. “You want to argue that I haven’t triggered the curse,” he said.
“You know me well, private.” Her voice cracked.
“Myreen saving us from further torture doesn’t prove anything,” he said. “She’s a kind person. Even if she hates my guts, she would never want to see someone suffer if she could help it.”
Kol felt Char’s shoulders shrug.
He was never good with emotions, expressing them or noticing them in others. But the fact that Char kept insisting the curse wasn’t broken could only mean one thing.
“I love her, Char,” he said. It was a fact. “For whatever reason you don’t think it’s happened...” Or maybe she wished it didn’t happen, but he didn’t voice the
thought. He sighed instead. “Look, I don’t know if we’ll get out of here or not, and I don’t know what will happen if we do. If Myreen will escape or...” He couldn’t finish the thought. “I don’t know what my future holds, but I do know that I love Myreen Fairchild and that I have activated the Dracul curse. Just like my mother did years ago. Just like my ancestors have through generations for over a century.” There was a chance he’d end up with Charlotte, but he was more likely to end up alone. He wouldn’t put someone he cared about through the agony his mother went through every single day of her life. What he was doomed to live with for the rest of his.
But surprisingly? He didn’t regret it.
“I’m sorry, Kol,” Char’s voice was softer than a whisper when she finally spoke several minutes later.
He pretended not to see the glistening tear on her cheek, but at least he reached up to hold her again.
***
Tentative footsteps sounded on the cold floor not long after. A small part of Kol thought he might’ve drifted off for a second, because the sound jolted him to awareness, but he was in too much pain and discomfort to really get any sleep.
Char shifted next to him and he realized his arms weren’t around her anymore. He must’ve dozed off for at least a minute or two, because he couldn’t remember consciously letting go of her.
“Kol!” A voice hissed through the poisoned bars.
“Myreen?” His head cocked to the side. He couldn’t be certain if it was actually her, or a part of his imagination. A dream.
Dark hair flicked over her shoulder as she looked behind, maybe to see if she was being followed. When she turned back to face them in the dim light, concern lining her face, he knew she was a dream. Not because of the concern—as he’d told Char how kind-hearted she was—but because she looked at him in a way he’d never seen Eduard look at Victoria. So she couldn’t be real.
But the look vanished, and he realized she really was there, perfect and beautiful, standing in the shadows.
She was there.