Dark Spell

by Danielle Rose

  Am I okay?

  Have I broken something?

  Can I stand?

  Can I fight?

  My legs ache, my spine tingling when I try to move. I try to calm my breathing, taking slow, long, intentional inhalations until the fire in my gut subsides. It feels like hours pass as I wait for the strength to stand, but I know it has been only seconds.

  I hear their fight erupting all around me.

  As I lie on the ground, coated in the remnants of earth’s most brutal season, I see flashes of light and hear the painful cries of dying witches. I do not hear the vampires crying out, but that does not mean they are not in trouble. The moment a stake penetrates the heart, they begin their descent to death. It is quick and often silent. So even though I do not hear my friends crying out for help, that does not mean they are fighting. That does not mean they are still alive.

  I roll onto my side and force myself into a seated position. My hands are caked with ice and mulch. I brush my palms on my jeans as I scan my surroundings.

  The world around me has exploded in violence. The witches team up in groups of four—one representing each physical element—to fight against each vampire. This is keeping Malik, Hikari, and Jeremiah busy, but Jasik is making his way to me. He rushes to my side, blood splattered across his face. I do not ask whose blood as he ushers me to my feet. I lean against him and wince as a sharp pain radiates through my leg.

  “You are hurt,” Jasik says.

  I shake my head. “I am fine. Go. Help the others.”

  He frowns at me, his eyes in disbelief. “You do not really expect me to obey that order, do you?”

  I smile, and for one brief second, it is just the two of us again, but that feeling is torn away from me the moment a sharp dagger of enhanced air magic rips through my sire’s chest. His blood spews from his wound as he howls. It sprays onto my face, and I scream. The magic penetrates completely through his chest and shoots out through his sternum. I look away just in time, and the dagger of invisible energy slices across my cheek. It disappears into the forest, and Jasik falls to his knees beside me.

  I drop to my knees, ignoring the stabbing pain in my throbbing leg. My body protests, warning me of my weakened state. I am wounded, but I do not care. Jasik is on the verge of death.

  He slumps forward, breaking his fall with one outstretched arm. But it too yields, and he collapses to the ground, face pressed into the snow. His chest is heaving, his breath coming in powerful bursts, making the soft snow coating the earth flutter with each exhalation. If not for the bloodshed, I would say the woods look magical at this time of night. The moonlight makes everything glisten and sparkle, but just when I find it beautiful, I see streaks of crimson.

  I cradle Jasik in my arms, rocking back and forth, telling him over and over again that he will be okay. I remind him it missed his heart, even if he already knows this information. If the witch did not miss, he would already be ash. I run my blood-caked fingers through his hair, and the dark-brown strands tangle in my grasp, sweeping around my fingers and clinging to my wet skin.

  “You are going to be okay, Jasik,” I whisper.

  His head is rested against my lap, and I break his gaze to find help. The vampires are at war with the witches, evading attacks and blocking equally damning threats. Will is helping the others, taking every opportunity he can to outsmart his enemy.

  I consider our depleted hybrid bodies. Together, can two halves make a whole? Can we combine our efforts to heal Jasik? Slowly, his body is healing itself, but he has not the time to wait for muscle to thread and bone to form. The moment one of these witches realizes he is badly injured, she will take it upon herself to end my sire’s life once and for all. And that I will not allow.

  I see Malik sparring with a witch I have never before seen, and I call for him, screaming his name with such agony, such desperation, such absolute terror, he halts. He freezes, if only for a second, and then uses the witch’s distraction to end her life.

  My trainer searches the grounds, seeking my voice, and when he finds me, he panics. I imagine what this must look like to him. I am sitting on the ground, covered in blood and sweat, and tears are streaming down my cheeks. Jasik, unmoving, is cradled in my arms.

  I have never before seen such dread, such love and devotion in the eyes of a vampire who has trouble expressing his emotions. I fear for any witch who tries to block his path, for she will not survive his vengeance.

  The moment someone does step between Malik and his brother, I squeeze my eyes shut. Because I know this witch. I remember her from before. She is older and powerful, and she was nice to me. She would sit with me for hours and talk about how pleasant Darkhaven used to be—before coven after coven moved into the village, claiming the town as their own. She spoke of a long-ago feud between the witches of Darkhaven before they all decided to simply share the town. They offer no such courtesy to the vampires.

  When I open my eyes again, the witch I once knew is lying on the ground. Malik’s hand is covered in blood, and he is stomping forward. His tunnel vision allows him to see nothing but us, nothing but his baby brother on the brink of death.

  I do not look at her body anymore, because she does not move. Her chest is stained with crimson, her legs have buckled awkwardly, and her head is angled to face me. I do not know if her eyes are open. I do not know if she sees me aiding the vampires and not her. I do not bother looking—not because I do not want to see the accusations within her lifeless gaze, but because there is nothing I can do for her. The witches were warned, and still, they waged war. They should know better than anyone. In war, there are casualties.

  “What happened?” Malik says. He is close enough for me to hear him, and he skids on his knees to a stop and assesses the damage.

  “He is hurt!” I shout. “Help him!”

  “Ava,” Malik says, his voice calm. With his eyes, he tells me to calm down, to just breathe, and I know everything will be okay. Malik will not let his brother die. He would give his life to save Jasik’s, and I pray it will not come to that.

  With Malik’s back turned on the witches, he lifts his gasping brother into his arms. Jasik’s legs flop like jelly beside his older brother’s, but he leans against him. With an arm wrapped around Malik’s shoulders, Jasik trudges forward, wincing at the pain.

  “Why isn’t he healing?” I shout as I jump to my feet. My own throbbing leg protests, and I grind my teeth in response.

  “This was a nearly deadly wound, Ava,” Malik says, voice heavy. He grunts as he maintains his hold on his brother, who is offering little assistance as they escape the battlefield.

  “But he will be okay?” I ask.

  Malik does not respond, and I do not push for answers. Because as their backs are turned, another witch is rushing forward. Arms thrown out to her sides, she calls upon her element. I do not have to guess which element will aid her. She has the look—the confident gleam—of a fire witch. One spark, and Malik and Jasik are toast.

  I block her attack, putting my body between her and them.

  “No!” I shout. I throw out my arms, blocking her with merely my palms. It is a fool’s errand, but I cannot back down.

  She stops abruptly, furrowing her brow. She is confused, her gaze darting between the vampires and me. Malik glances over his shoulder and tries to move quicker. He is heading straight for the fence that separates Mamá’s property and the woods beyond.

  I fumble with my jacket but soon withdraw my stake. It is a child’s toy compared with a fire witch’s magic, but it is all I have to protect them, to protect me.

  “Move out of my way, girl,” the witch says. She is another unknown face in a fury of violence. How has Mamá found so many witches willing to die for a cause they do not understand?

  “That is not going to happen,” I say. I straighten my back, standing taller, stronger. I may not be the strongest witch here, but I can certainly slow down this stranger enough to protect my friends.

  “Do you really th
ink you can stop me?” the girl says. “Look around, you are all alone.”

  “No, she is not alone,” a voice says.

  From behind, Will emerges. He stands beside me and grabs my hand. We interlock fingers, and I feel a rush of magic coursing between us. The witch falters. It is brief, but her momentary lapse is all I need to feel stronger. She is scared. Not of me. But of us. Together, maybe we really do form one pissed-off hybrid.

  I see the moment the girl decides to call upon her magic. The instant she chooses life over death, something flashes behind her eyes. Her magic erupts within her, her eyes becoming a blazing inferno of raw energy. Her insides are boiling, and her skin bares that truth. In the dead of winter, on this cool night, she is sweating, her cheeks pink from the heat of magic. Not from fear but from power.

  Unfortunately, someone else sees it too. The moment she raises her hand, wielding a burning fireball in her palm, a dagger aimed perfectly for her heart slices through the air. Unlike the witch who wielded an air dagger before her, this time it does not miss.

  From clear across the yard, Jeremiah stands defiantly. His now weaponless arm outstretched, he bares the truth of what just happened. He threw his only defense against the witches across the yard to protect us.

  The light goes out in the witch’s eyes, and I see the exact moment she dies. Her body falls to the ground, her chest an open, gushing wound. Emotionless, I withdraw the dagger, shivering as the prominent squish of warm flesh releases its hold on the blade.

  Before I can consider my options, Will grabs the dagger and rushes toward Jeremiah. He holds it out before him, tripping over his feet as his mind moves too fast for his weakened legs. He tumbles to the ground, rolling against the wet grass. Towering over the clumsy witch, Jeremiah shakes his head at Will’s pathetic attempt to return the vampire’s dagger. He then helps him up, and together, they fight off another witch.

  Someone calls to me, and I break my concentration. I scan the yard until I find Malik. He and Jasik are safely in the woods, and they call to me. I limp forward, leaving behind the massacre in favor of my two favorite vampires.

  By the time I reach my ailing mate’s side, all hell has broken loose. Hikari, Jeremiah, and Will are still battling the witches, but I focus on my sire and my trainer.

  “We need to go,” Malik says firmly.

  “We cannot leave them!” I shout, turning away from my friends in order to rejoin the fight.

  “Ava, stop! Think! You are in no shape to fight,” Malik warns. He grabs my arm, holding me back.

  “We cannot leave them behind!” I repeat, shocked he would even consider abandoning his fellow hunters.

  “They are smart, Ava. They are strong. They will find their way back to us,” Malik assures me.

  Silent and unbelieving, I do not respond, even when Malik releases me.

  Torn between two worlds, I watch as Malik leads Jasik to safety. I turn and watch as my other friends desperately try to avoid the witches’ attacks. They maneuver effortlessly around their enemies as if they truly have been preparing for this very fight.

  With an ache in my heart I just cannot shake, I look at Will, who smiles. He nods, understanding my pain and frustration. As I take a step forward, he shakes his head, stopping me in my tracks. With one final glance, he grips the handle of his weapon tightly and returns to the fight.

  The last time I see Will, he is rushing toward the witches, disappearing into a cloud of magic and a waterfall of blood.

  Chapter Three

  The distance between us offers much-needed clarity. Finally free from Mamá’s clutches, I feel in control of my own thoughts. It is as though her power over me weakens with every step I take.

  Everything about the witches feels icky. Ever since they performed their spell, something dark has settled in my soul. I assume it is Mamá and her essence mingling with my own. No longer can I tell where I end and she begins. We have become one. Her burdens are now mine to bear.

  Queasy from the thought, my stomach churns. I cross my arms, holding my chest as I trudge through the snow. I ignore the vampires, who offer strategically timed side glances my way. I am certain there is never a moment when no one is looking at me. I understand their concern—and curiosity—but I can feel their gazes, and it is making my heart race, head spin, and gut ache.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, momentarily blinded by darkness. The snow falling splatters against my cheeks, and I shiver. My lip trembles, and I kick something with my foot. The tip of my boot is nudged beneath something solid, and I am falling forward before I even have time to open my eyes.

  Jasik catches me. He reaches out, and I grab on to him, nearly pulling him down with me. We stop walking, and I settle into his comfortable gaze. He smiles at me, and his eyes soften. But I see their pain. The agony that burns within him is not just because he nearly died. His body is already healing, even if he is still too weak to battle.

  The turmoil coursing through his veins, turning him to ice, is because of everything I have done. Ever since the vampires welcomed me into their nest, I have made mistake after mistake. They have risked their lives for me, for my incessant need to end a pointless feud. And while I still do believe the war between the witches and vampires is absurd, never again will I risk our lives to save theirs.

  From this moment on, the witches are on their own, and I will reserve my strength to protect my new family—the vampires.

  My heart burns when I think about Will. He is still with them, fighting my cause. Even if I am no longer a hybrid and have no use for his knowledge, I still miss his friendship. In just over a day’s time, Will managed to worm his way into my heart. He was nice to me during a time I did not have many allies, and even though he did not know Liv or recognize her betrayal, he still tried to save her. He did it for me.

  “Do you think the others…”

  I trail off, not wanting to ask my question aloud. I do not want to think it in my head either. I scratch at my scalp, shaking as I try to work harmful images from my mind. It is times like these that I hate my overactive imagination.

  “They will be fine,” Jasik says, answering my unasked question.

  I nod, swallowing the knot in my burning throat, and exhale slowly. I try to clear my thoughts and focus instead on what is happening here, now, but my mind keeps wandering back to our comrades.

  I do not know much about Will’s fighting style, but even as a mortal, he must be a threat to the witches. I assume he has hunted vampires before, and he clearly knows how to fight. He outmaneuvered the witches in the forest, and he will do it again tonight. I just have to have faith in him.

  Jeremiah is resourceful. In the short amount of time I have known him, he always brings new and unique methods to each battle. It keeps his enemies on their toes, making him a real asset when we are hunting.

  I know Hikari is an experienced fighter. Not considering Jasik or Malik, she is the strongest hunter Amicia sired. I often forget how powerful she is, because she is much shorter and a great deal smaller than even me. She has a petite frame, which often means her enemies misjudge her. I know I have. She uses her size and perceived threat level to her advantage often.

  If Malik did not believe they could fend for themselves, he would not have abandoned them. He would have separated Jasik from the witches and gone back for the others. I am sure of this. Malik has strong bonds to his family, and he would never leave them behind if he thought they were in real danger.

  We are close to the manor. We have a short hike remaining until we greet Amicia and the other vampires. Attempting to foresee her reaction to what has happened is more than enough to occupy my mind.

  The last time I saw her, I spoke in anger. I was upset with the blood oath she forced upon me and what that meant for my freedom. She stole my ability to think for myself, to react in my natural ways. Now, I laugh at the anger I felt. I was quick to judge, not even considering my dark promise with Amicia would be the least of my problems. Come daybreak, I was severed from the
very part of me that made me special, and now, I am linked to the spiteful, malicious woman who bore me.

  Mamá gave me my life’s blood, and in just as quick and natural of a decision, she tried to take it away. I wonder if there was a time she ever truly loved me.

  I limp over a mound of snow, sinking into its depths. Beneath its pearlescent sheen, it hides layers of deception. Something crunches beneath my weight, and I assume I am walking over many years of brush.

  Using a nearby tree to pull my legs free, I trample over the hump, landing in a heap on the other side. My ankles burn when the soles of my boots land firmly on the ground, and I rub my hands together to remove the grit and dead bark. Chest heaving from overexertion, I wipe the sweat that dribbles at the peak of my forehead.

  Only then do I notice the vampires. They are watching me, concerned, but I try not to absorb their worry. The last thing I need right now is to fear how weak I have become.

  The rest of the way, I gnaw on my lip and think about what has happened in my life over the past several months. I was destined to lead my coven, becoming the next high priestess in a long line of witches devoted to the cause. Their mission: to rid the world of vampires.

  Then I became one, and ever since, I have been trying to piece together my upbringing. The witches dislike what I became so much, they risked my life to sever the darkness from my soul.

  I cannot help but wonder what would have happened if the spell failed. I would have died, I know that, but what would have happened to Mamá? Would she have perished beside me? We are linked now, but I still do not fully understand what that means. My puzzle is only half-finished, and though I strive to put it together, I only have some of the pieces. What irks me is that Mamá does not need the ones I have to see the picture clearly, because she has the image this jigsaw puzzle becomes. And that makes her far too great a threat.