“Yes, now go back to bed.”
“What about you? You need to sleep too, Malik. We could take turns,” I offer. “Split the shift in two.”
He sighs heavily. “I’ll be fine. This is my job, Ava. If losing rest is what I need to do in order to protect this nest, then that is what I will do. Now, go to bed.” He emphasizes each word, the hard look on his face matching his tone.
Reluctantly I tiptoe back to my bedroom. As I open the door, I glance back over my shoulder. Malik looks so tired, and his shift has only just begun. But I know he’s in it for the long haul. Malik is one of the few vampires I know who would give his life in exchange for those he protects. That’s why he is the perfect choice to lead this nest.
“If you need me, I’m only a few steps away,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
He smiles, and it reaches his eyes. Only then do I realize how long it has been since I last saw him smile. Always on edge, always making the difficult choices the others dread to think about, I would argue that Malik has experienced the hardest burden since Amicia’s death. I imagine taking her place is the hardest thing he has ever had to do. After all, she was his sire.
“Good night, Ava. Sleep well,” he says as I close the door behind me and lock it.
Deep down, I knew something as basic as a doorknob lock couldn’t keep out anyone in this house, but I’d slept easier knowing it was another obstacle in Sofía’s way—should she decide to show her true colors and try to murder us all in our sleep.
“I didn’t know he did that,” Holland says, and I blink away the memory from last night.
That blanket of safety is gone now, replaced by a shuddering sense of worry that grips so tightly I can barely breathe.
I nod. “He did. Because he doesn’t trust her. You shouldn’t either.”
“She might be an ally,” Holland argues. “We can use another fire user.”
“Maybe, but she needs to prove it first. She needs to gain our trust, Holland. We can’t just hand it over willingly. And until she deserves our loyalty, you have to be careful. Be smart.”
Again, he scoffs. “And how am I not being smart?”
“Just…don’t get too close to her, okay? Don’t leave her alone, don’t share secrets, don’t mention anything she can use against us. Assume she is the enemy.”
Holland nods, huffing dramatically. “Fine. We’ll do this your way. Is that all?”
I shake my head. “Actually, no.”
Based on Holland’s defensive nature, I think long and hard about mentioning last night’s nightmare. I am not convinced he can approach this with a clear head, unbiased, but I don’t want to hide it. I need the vampires to see I am willing to share this part of me, even if I only have bad news to share.
So I spill my secrets, and Holland listens as I detail last night’s dream and what happened today in the cemetery.
“Honestly?” he asks, and I nod, holding my breath. “It sounds like your imagination is getting the best of you.”
I exhale sharply. “I thought so. I mean, even now, I feel eyes on us.”
I glance at the woods, noting how the trees cast shadows that move, shifting and changing in size every time the wind blows through the budding leaves. The sensation instills a deep-rooted fear, and the little voice in my head reminds me that I might be right. Maybe we are being watched.
“Then maybe we should get back inside,” Holland says, but something in his voice tells me he isn’t kidding.
Holland leaves me on the porch, but before I follow behind him, I walk to the edge of the steps, letting the tips of my feet hang over. I crouch down beside the gargoyle, resting my hand atop his head while keeping my gaze cast upon the woods.
The feeling that I am being watched still lingers, but I see no one in the forest. I slide my palm up and down the gargoyle’s head as if to pet him, and I whisper for him to keep us safe.
Back inside the manor, I close and lock the door behind me, offering a sideways glance as I pass the parlor. Sofía and Holland are still there, sitting close together, smiling as they chat about magic, as if the conversation I just had with Holland was a figment of my imagination.
I remind myself that Holland is desperate for friendship. The sole witch in a house full of vampires can’t be easy, especially when none of us truly understands what he is going through. Being a hybrid, I can relate to that sense of difference, to the desire to belong somewhere.
I have made the decision to mention my dream to Malik. Even though Holland’s explanation makes sense, it doesn’t exactly put me at ease. I worry he is too biased to properly analyze a possible vision.
I find the other hunters in the dining room. Hikari and Jeremiah are trudging into the kitchen, the swinging door between the two rooms swooshing closed behind them as they disappear behind it. Jasik is missing, but I assume he is still busying himself getting ready for the day. After all, we had a late start to the morning.
Malik is appropriately exhausted as he slowly slurps down a mug of blood. I consider telling him to take a nap, that we can handle the next couple of hours without him, but I know he will refuse. He takes his job as leader of this nest too seriously to risk something as benign as a nap.
He rubs his sleepy eyes as he glances up at me. We exchange knowing glances, but I never mention my offer. In fact, as I plop down beside him, I consider waiting to share my dream with him. The last thing his tired mind needs is another problem.
We sit in silence for a few minutes as I make a mental assessment of my situation. I replay everything that has happened since Sofía showed up. Meanwhile, I don’t speak, not until something occurs to me, and the realization has me stopping cold.
“Malik?” I ask. “Where were you this morning?”
“Hmm?” he asks groggily, not meeting my gaze as he stares at his nearly empty mug.
“When I got up, you weren’t in the hall,” I say. “Where did you go? I thought you were patrolling all night.”
“Oh, yeah, I ended up going to bed,” he says. “I stayed up as long as I could, but I figured you were right. There was nothing to worry about.”
I sit upright, a chill working its way through my body.
“What do you mean I was right?” I ask. “I never said that. I wanted to share…duties.”
I am quickly running out of code words for stalking and possibly killing Sofía. I worry stating it outright will upset the others. For some off reason, they are quickly growing attached to her and are far too forgiving when it comes to the act of this stranger. Sofía will see it as a threat—I can’t exactly fault her for that correct assumption—and it’ll start an argument. And right now, we need clear heads.
“Sure you did,” Malik says. “Before you went back to bed.”
“Malik, I never said that.” My voice is screechy, and I struggle to control my rising fear. “I came out and told you to let me cover half the night. You said no.”
He nods. “And then you went back to bed, and a little while later, you came out again and told me to go to bed. So I did.”
“After I went back to bed?” I ask.
He nods and yawns. He finishes the last bit of his breakfast, smacking his mouth in disapproval as he stares into the empty mug. He seems completely unfazed by our conversation.
“We talked twice last night, Malik?” I clarify. “I told you I wanted to take a shift, and you said no. I went to bed, and you’re saying I came back out again and convinced you to go to bed? And you listened?”
“Yes, exactly. Now, can you please stop talking?” Malik whines. “My head is killing me.”
I sit back in my chair, silenced. I let the three conversations I have had today settle in, but the startling truth is hard to deny—something is wrong with my friends. They are acting weird. They are all emotional and vulnerable, trusting and dismissive. They are nothing like the careful, meticulous vampires who trained me to hunt and kill rogues.
“Malik,” I whisper, a cold chill numbing my limbs. “That p
erson you spoke to last night, that wasn’t me.”
I quickly realize there is no use in explaining the truth to him. The leader of this nest, the one we lean on for support and strength, is gone. Like the others, he has been replaced by an easygoing pushover, and I know Sofía is to blame.
I know what I must do. I must consider this an act of war. Sofía has threatened the safety of my nest, and I will not let her get away with it.
“Good morning, Ava,” Sofía says, the chill rushing bone deep.
Ever since Sofía arrived, something has felt off. The air is icy, even as the earth warms right outside these walls. I understand it now as the innate sensation instilled by spirit—the one that is meant to warn me of impending danger, of predator hunting prey. Except, in this scenario, I am not the hunter. I am the hunted.
“I thought it might be time we talk,” Sofía continues.
My back is to her. I am facing the large bay windows that spill into the backyard. Several yards away, I can see the cemetery and then the forest, but I blink as I focus on something else.
I stare at her reflection in the window, watching as she walks closer. She is silent, so eerily quiet it is as though she is floating above the floorboards, hovering toward me.
I want to move, to stand, to face her head-on, but I can’t. Frozen by fear or perhaps by the frigid air she brings with her every time she enters a room, my body is immobilized. My head is foggy and dazed, and I feel a single tear slide down my cheek. I can’t even reach up to swipe it away.
“What have you done?” I hiss.
She smiles at me, but in the windows, her reflection is muddled. A thick, dark mist surrounds her figure, coating her essence in a black, frosty fog.
“Malik,” I whisper. I glance at him, but he never looks up. He remains still, staring into his coffee mug, mesmerized by what he sees.
“He can’t help you now,” she says. “None of them can. In the end, we’re always alone, aren’t we?”
“What did you do to them?” I ask, angry, bitter at the thought that I welcomed this monster into our home and that everything that happens from this point on is my fault.
Sofía never answers. I return my gaze to her, staring at the window so long my vision blurs. I blink to clear it, but still, I can’t focus on the witch behind me because my gaze has settled on something else.
Outside the windows and past the cemetery, something moves. The shadows themselves clear, forging a path for what lurks within the forest. Earlier, I felt something watching me, as I confessed my regret to Will, but I was distracted by Sofía and the idea that she is up to no good. Again, when talking with Holland, I felt that same tingle, the one that prickles my skin when I feel eyes on me. He brushed away my concern just as Jasik did. Now I know why.
Because at least a dozen sets of crimson irises are staring back at me, their figures emerging from the darkness of the woods. One rogue in particular stands out. The moonlight glistens off his shiny, smooth skin, sparkling against the thirsty, pearlescent fangs of his comrades.
I was right. The rogue would come back for me. I just didn’t know when.
Chapter Ten
I scream, finding my strength and releasing a shriek so powerful, it shakes the house. Paintings and pictures hanging on the walls shudder, the vibration causing some to fall and shatter. The bay windows before me, perfectly preserved stained glass from the day the manor was erected, burst, shards of glass spraying into the yard.
The rogue vampires smile, relishing in my fear. Some even lift their noses, as though they are inhaling deeply, enjoying the scent of my fright. Terror smells a lot like metal. The unsettling, acrid odor irritates my senses, tingling my nostrils, a bitterly pungent scent. But the rogues seem to harness greater power from it, from the fear of death in their prey.
My bellow is enough to rattle the hunters, startling them awake from their spellbound slumber. Malik rises first. He stands so abruptly his chair falls backward, smacking against the hardwood so loud I cringe.
Jeremiah and Hikari emerge from the kitchen, mugs in hand. Their gazes scan the room, seeing the broken glass. The moment they lock eyes with the rogue vampires—still lining the forest as though they are waiting for us to make the first move—the two drop their cups. The liquid splashes, spreading like spiderwebs, each stroke intentional in its path, like messy finger paintings.
My vision lands on the cracked mugs, and immediately, I view it as a weapon. I imagine myself leaping forward, grabbing the largest piece, and stabbing Sofía in the neck, watching as she bleeds out, eliminating our problem once and for all.
The echoing sound of Jasik running through the halls catches my attention, and the vision of a dead Sofía at my feet dissipates. I hear him stomp down the stairs, unable or uncaring to be silent. Vampires are stealthy by nature, but today, no one is quiet, no one is effortless in his or her descent into this madness.
Jasik rounds the corner and enters the dining room just as Holland is stumbling from the parlor. I blink, and Jeremiah is at his side, pulling him close. Both look distraught, and I can easily envision the battle within the confines of Jeremiah’s mind. Tonight, he must choose: protect his lover or obey his duties as a hunter. At first, the two paths will join as one, because killing the rogues will keep Holland safe. But there will be a moment, in the heat of battle, when the two paths will fork. I already know who he will protect. I don’t envy him, because even though I am sure he will have no regrets, the guilt will still linger.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Jasik asks, but no one responds. No one has to. My sire’s gaze follows the wreckage, and he has his answer.
We are surrounded.
Seemingly unaware of the events that led to this moment—like how only seconds ago, they were all essentially comatose—the hunters leap into action, quickly arming themselves, readying for a fight.
I stand and face Sofía, preparing for my own battle, but I wasn’t prepared for her shock. She looks past me, staring into the distance, mouth agape. She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes wide and glued to the sight outside.
“You brought them here,” I hiss, frustrated by her lies.
Sofía blinks several times before settling her gaze on me. She shakes her head.
“I—I didn’t. I swear,” she says.
“I am not fooled by your innocent act, Sofía,” I say. “You threatened the wrong nest.”
“Ava, you must believe me,” she says. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t. I had no idea they were coming here.”
I frown, considering her words. Something feels off about them, about her confession. I think about the strange way she phrased that.
I had no idea they were coming here.
I wonder what exactly that means, but I know there isn’t enough time to properly interrogate her.
“They are waiting, Sofía,” I say. “They are waiting for you, aren’t they? For your order to storm the manor, to kill us.”
Again, she shakes her head. “No, I swear! I’m not leading them.”
This time, I can’t deny her unusual phrasing, so I speak up.
“Then who is?” I ask. “Who is leading them? Who told you to come here?”
She begins to speak as if she might truly admit her wrongdoing to me, but something stops her.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, an obvious lie.
“I don’t believe you,” I say, seething. “And let me make myself exceptionally clear, Sofía. If anything happens to my friends, I will kill you.”
I convince myself that wasn’t an empty threat. Even though I had my doubts, deep down, I was still hoping Sofía would become an ally. Holland was right. We could use another witch, especially a fire witch, but after the torment my former coven put us through, I refused to become a victim. So regardless of my concern over her loyalty, I planned to test Sofía, to make her prove she is friend, not foe. But it is safe to say she has failed my test.
“He is out there,” Sofía says, voice hard. “The rogue vampire
who murdered my family is here.”
I nod. “He is, but I am fairly certain you knew he would be. Because you’re working together, aren’t you?”
“Stop saying that!” Sofía shouts.
The warmth in the room intensifies as she struggles to control her magic, but I never flinch. I stare directly into her eyes, daring her to make the first move—just like her comrades outside.
“Stop fighting with me,” she says. “We have a bigger problem, Ava. We are surrounded. What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to fight,” I say plainly.
After we lost Will, Amicia, and the others, I learned a valuable lesson: always be prepared for war. Unlike the others, I am always armed, even if I plan never to leave the manor. Even now, I feel the comfortable weight of my dagger at my chest and the sleek shape of another blade at my hip. I unsheathe the weapon and hand it to Sofía.
“Now is the time you prove where your loyalty lies,” I say.
Sofía glances at my palm, staring at the shiny metal. I offer her my backup knife, the one I started carrying after too many close calls. I can’t always summon my magic to save me at a moment’s notice, so I needed another knife. I relinquish it now, keeping the dagger at my chest, the one Jasik gave me many months ago, as my primary weapon.
Slowly, she grabs on to it, hand shaking, and tightens her grip around it.
“I thought you didn’t trust me,” she whispers.
“I don’t,” I say, emotionless. “But even though I am confident you will betray us later, I think you’re smart. I think you will wait until the time is right, and based on your reaction, that time isn’t now. And that means only one thing.”
“What?” Sofía asks, voice cracking.
“Today, you will help us, because you need me to believe in you,” I say. “You need me to trust that you are the person you say you are. The only way for me to have faith in you is for you to help us now.”
“I am not your enemy, Ava. You’ll see.”
“Yes, I will see,” I say. “They’ll all see.”
Sofía squeezes the handle of my knife so tightly her knuckles turn white. She appears paler than usual, her earlier confidence gone. If I didn’t know any better, I might actually view her as a child, someone lost and broken, and not as the manipulative witch I have come to know.
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