by Zoe Arden
“Come on,” I said.
Colt let me lead him outside. Damon slammed the door behind us. I thought it was official now. Damon and I were through. There was no way he was going to want anything more to do with me after this.
We walked silently to Colt’s car. I could tell he was trying to get himself under control.
My phone buzzed again, and I looked at the screen to see I had a new voicemail. Probably Margaret. I dialed in and listened as Melbourne’s voice came through.
“Ava, I’ve just heard about Anastasia Peacock. I need to talk to you. Come to my house as soon as you get this. I’m... I’m ready to answer all your questions.”
I hung up and looked at Colt.
“How fast can this car go?”
“As fast as you need it to,” he said.
“I need it at Melbourne’s now.”
“Consider it done.”
* * *
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
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I held the phone to my ear as Margaret’s voicemail clicked over. “Margaret, I’m on my way to Melbourne’s. Meet me there as soon as you can.”
“What’s up?” Colt asked as he squealed around a corner.
“Melbourne said he’s ready to talk.”
“Talk? About what?”
I gave Colt a rundown of what Melbourne and I had discussed the other day. I also told him about meeting Vlaski.
“Vlaski Ambrose?” Colt asked, shock registering on his face.
I shrugged. “No idea. I never got his last name. Why?”
“I thought that guy was dead. He’s practically a myth.”
“A myth? What do you mean? Why?”
“Because no one’s ever seen him. At least, no one who’s lived to tell about it.”
I gulped, remembering the way Vlaski’s bony fingers had touched mine when we shook hands.
“You mean he’s... dangerous?”
“Dangerous doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“How do you know so much about him?” I asked.
“COMHA keeps files on all vampires.”
“All vampires? Like all vampires in the world?”
He nodded.
“But there must be, like, thousands. Millions.”
Colt laughed. “Ava, if millions of vampires were running around this planet, there’d be no humans left. The vampires would have tried to take over long ago.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, getting upset. “Melbourne isn’t like that. Melbourne doesn’t even drink human blood.”
“Not now. But I promise you that at one point, he did.”
I remembered what Melbourne had told me about going through an “adjustment period” and shuddered.
“So, how many vampires are there, then?”
Colt shrugged. “A thousand. Maybe less.”
“That’s it?” I was shocked.
“It’s hard to keep track of them because they can go for decades without being seen, then suddenly pop up out of nowhere one day.”
“Do you know how old Melbourne is?” I asked. “He won’t tell anyone.”
“If I remember correctly, Melbourne Hammond is about fifteen hundred years old. Give or take a few years.”
My jaw dropped open. “Fifteen hundred. Wow.”
“It’s possible he’s older and our records only date back that far.”
“Aunt Trixie was planning on making him a birthday cake this year. I don’t think it will hold that many candles.”
Colt chuckled.
“So why are there so few vampires? Has it always been that way?”
“A lot of them panic after they’re... reborn. They end up killing themselves within the first few days.”
“Really?”
“There’s still a lot COMHA doesn’t know about them. They’re very secretive. In fact, Melbourne is one of the most open vampires I’ve ever met. He actually seems happy. Most vampires aren’t. I suppose it’s hard to stay happy when everyone you love dies.”
I’d never thought of it that way. “Pool Melbourne.”
“Anyway,” Colt continued, “there’s a vampire council that set a rule long ago stating that before a vampire can be turned, they have to be given the choice. No more just stealing someone off the street and turning them. For the most part, vampires have complied.”
“I heard that most of them don’t drink human blood anymore.”
“That’s true. Most don’t. Vlaski is an exception.”
What on Earth would Melbourne have been doing with Vlaski if all this were true? They seemed like polar opposites.
We finally made it to Melbourne’s and I got out of the car, running for his door. He opened it before I’d even knocked.
“Thanks for seeing me,” I said.
He looked at Colt and shook his head.
“You may come in, Ava, but he has to wait out here.”
“Why?” I asked, sensing Colt’s uneasiness.
“I’m coming in.” Colt went to push past Melbourne, but Melbourne stopped him without even trying. It was like Melbourne was made of brick and Colt was a cotton ball.
“I’ll be fine,” I told Colt. Then I leaned close so that only he could hear, “Remember what you said, Melbourne doesn’t drink human blood anymore.”
Melbourne smiled.
Colt shook his head. “Vampires have ultra-sensitive hearing, Ava.”
I looked at Melbourne, embarrassed. He’d just heard every word I’d said.
“Sorry,” I said, my face burning.
“It’s fine. Are you coming in then?”
I looked at Colt. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll be right here,” he said and folded his arms across his chest.
Inside Melbourne’s home, I took a seat.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he asked.
“No. Thank you. Melbourne... why didn’t you want Colt coming inside? Is it because he works for COMHA?”
“That was for your benefit,” he said.
“My benefit?” I laughed. “But I don’t mind if Colt comes in.”
“You may not want him to hear everything I have to tell you. Some of it is private.”
“Oh.” My mind was racing. Private? What was it that was so important?
“Let me explain. You asked me before what Sara Sweetland and Patrick Mistmoor had to do with all of this. Have you figured out yet who they were protecting? Who they loved so much they would give up their lives?”
I shook my head.
Melbourne sighed. “You’ve heard the rumor that they had a child, I assume?”
“Yes. You mean that’s true?”
Melbourne nodded. “I knew Sara well. She was one of the first people to accept my transformation. Back then, witches and vampires were not allowed to be friends.”
“Not allowed by whom?”
“By the various councils. Today we have COMHA, but at the time it was COMVA, the Council on Magic and Vampire Affairs. They have since evolved.”
“Melbourne, we think someone is working with Polly. It’s not a vampire, is it?”
“Doubtful. Vampires don’t generally work with humans, which is what Polly is considered without her powers.”
“You don’t have any idea who her accomplice might be, then, do you?”
“On that subject, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
I expelled a long breath. “So, you were friends with Sara?” I prompted. At least he could tell me more about this thing with her child.
“Yes.”
“And what does this have to do with Polly and the ritual?”
“The child’s name was Charlotte. I followed her until her death, watching over her like my own daughter after both Patrick and Sara were taken from her. But even then, hard as I might try, I could not unlock the curse placed upon the family.”
“Curse? So, it’s true? Sara stole Patr
ick from a jealous witch?”
“Stole? Never. Not Sara. Patrick found out the witch he was seeing was practicing dark magic. He left her and went to Sara.”
“And she got mad,” I concluded.
“Sara died defending her child. Patrick died doing the same.”
“What happened to the witch? Was she caught?”
“I... disposed of her.”
“You did?”
I didn’t know why I was so surprised by his admission. I was beginning to understand why Melbourne didn’t want to talk about any of this before. Not many people in town would like the idea of Sara being killed by an evil witch that Melbourne “disposed of.” He was admitting to drinking the blood of a witch.
“What happened to Charlotte?”
“The curse caught up with her. She was murdered one night while she slept.”
“That’s so sad.”
“But at that point, she had already wed and mothered her own child.”
A tingly feeling began to creep up my spine.
“Where are you going with all this?” I asked.
“I have followed the Sweetland-Mistmoor line from the time of conception. You, Ava, are of that line.”
“Me?”
“You carry the blood of Sara Sweetland in you, just as your mother before you. The curse caught up with her, and it is trying to catch up with you now. I thought that Detective Hudson... Let’s just say I had hopes he might save you. But I finally saw that without the full story, you were fighting blind.”
“Wait a second. You’re telling me I’m cursed?!” I screamed. I jumped up and the chair I was sitting in fell over.
The front door banged open, and Colt rushed in. “Are you okay?” he asked, glaring at Melbourne.
“I have no idea.” I looked at Melbourne. “So that’s the reason Polly wants to save me for last? That she wants my soul in particular?”
“The Sweetland-Mistmoor bloodline is a powerful one. The curse makes it even more powerful. Your soul, Ava, will serve her far better than any other person on this island. Possibly the world.”
Colt looked confused as his eyes moved between me and Melbourne.
“But there’s still one more person before me,” I said. “Another victim. Who’s next?”
“You’ve studied the archetypes,” Melbourne said. “What are the three main groups?”
“The Ego, the Self, and the Soul.”
“The Jester and Ruler are both from the Self. The Caregiver and Heroine are both from the Ego. Which group is missing?”
“The Soul,” I said.
“Correct. It is your soul which Polly is after, yet you are the Heroine. You belong to the Ego. What archetype is left that might complement yours?”
I thought about it, scanning my memory for the archetypes in the Soul group. The Explorer, the Creator, the Rebel, and the... Lover.
“Damon!” I cried.
Melbourne nodded.
Without waiting to explain to Colt, I ran out of the house and jumped into his car.
“Previo,” I said and the car started up.
“Hey!” Colt yelled from Melbourne’s doorway. I didn’t bother to wait. There was no time to explain what was happening to him, and he would want explanations. I stepped on the gas and sped off.
* * *
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
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I dialed Damon’s number for the thirtieth time as I hit a mailbox and kept going.
“Darn it, Damon! Answer!” I flung my phone to the floor. It blared to life. My heart skipped a beat and I went to grab it, but it was only Colt.
“Hello?” I said.
“What in the wizard’s world are you doing?” he demanded. “Bring my car back right now.”
“I can’t. Damon’s in trouble.”
He was silent for no more than a second but it felt like an eternity. I knew I had just crossed a line with him by taking his car like that. I didn’t want to make him angry, but I couldn’t ignore the panic that had gripped me. Damon was in trouble. We may have had our share of problems lately, but I still cared for him. A lot.
“I’ll call Sheriff Knoxx. We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Colt said and hung up. I was grateful that he didn’t ask me anything else.
I got to Damon’s in record time. I was starting to rethink the idea that Sweetland Cove residents should walk everywhere. Having a car certainly had its perks.
Damon’s apartment building was ten stories. His apartment was only on the second floor. I parked in the lot closest to it and scanned the area for any signs of Polly. Or anyone else who shouldn’t be here. A man was walking his dog on the grass. A middle-aged woman was toting her ten-year-old child behind her as he screamed, “I don’t wanna go to the dentist!”
Nothing looked out of place, but then why wasn’t Damon answering his phone? I tried him one more time. Nothing. His living room window was visible from my car. I watched it closely. A shadowy figure moved in front of it. Crud. I had no way to tell if it was Polly, Slater, or Damon himself. The curtains were drawn.
I slowly opened the car door and stepped out, paying attention to everything around me. It was like my senses were on red alert. I walked up the staircase, feeling like I was being followed the whole time. I hesitated at the door.
Should I knock? If it was just Damon and his mom in there, then they’d answer and I’d know. I could warn them. If Polly, Slater, or her accomplice was in there, I’d alert them to my presence.
I didn’t have time to debate. I knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer. Colt and I had been here not more than an hour ago. I knew that someone was inside. I just didn’t know who.
Slowly, I turned the knob. It was locked. “Compressio momorandum,” I murmured and the knob turned. I opened the door an inch. Just enough to see inside with one eye. Nothing. If Polly was here, she could have incapacitated Damon and Renee. They might be tied up in his bedroom right now. I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside. There was a loud noise from the bedroom.
I crept down the hall, trying to stop my feet from making the floor creak. I got to the end of the hall. The bedroom door was standing open. I was about to turn into the room when Damon and I collided with each other.
“Aaaahhh!” I screamed.
“Aaaahhh!” he screamed.
Renee came running out of the room.
“What is she doing here?” Renee snapped, looking accusatorily at Damon.
“Don’t look at me, I don’t know,” Damon snapped back. He had his hand over his heart and was panting.
“You scared me to death,” I yelled.
“I scared you?! Are you serious?”
“Sorry,” I said.
“I think my mother asked a question. What are you doing here?” His blue eyes were dark. More black than blue. He was looking at me with contempt.
“I-I tried calling you.”
“I know. Didn’t you get the hint when I didn’t answer?”
“I thought you were in trouble.”
“Trouble?” His face softened slightly. “Why would you think that?”
“The Lover,” I babbled. “You’re the Lover. The last archetype.”
His eyes lightened, and the corners of his lips curved up. “Ava, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Not that I ever do.”
I blushed furiously as his mother stepped between us.
“Start making sense,” she snapped. “As far as I can tell, you broke into my son’s apartment.”
Before I could say anything, though, sirens squealed in the distance. We all went to the window and saw Sheriff Knoxx pull up. He and Colt jumped out of his car and ran up the stairs. Colt had his gun drawn.
“Whoa!” I yelled as they burst into the room a second later. We all put our hands up.
Colt and Sheriff Knoxx froze.
“Everything’s fine,�
� I told them. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“There was no misunderstanding,” Renee said. “This crazy witch broke into my son’s home.” Sheriff Knoxx looked at me, and Colt put his gun down.
“Like I was trying to tell you, I thought Damon was in trouble.”
“Trouble seems to follow him since he met you,” Renee said, irritated that no one was arresting me.
“Mom, stop it.” He turned to me. “What were you trying to tell me before, about the archetypes?”
I gave him a brief outline of what I’d learned, leaving out the part about me being cursed. I figured dropping one major bombshell at a time was enough. When I’d finished, Damon’s face was white as a sheet.
“So, you’re saying that Polly Peacock, or whoever’s helping her, are planning to kill me next?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Colt and the sheriff stood silently by, giving him time to process this information.
“You know what? My mom’s right. Trouble does follow me when you’re around. I’d like you to leave.”
“Damon, I’m sorry. It’s not my fault.”
He strode to the door and held it open for me. I moved toward it, my eyes pricking with tears. “I’m sorry,” I said again.
Colt and Sheriff Knoxx followed me out.
“I’ll place some of my men around your building to keep an eye on things,” Sheriff Knoxx said.
“And I’ll alert the Council,” Colt told him and Renee.
“Great,” Damon said. “Just what I need. More witches and wizards who draw trouble to them.” He shut the door.
I followed Colt back to his car.
“You wanna drive again?” he asked. There was a mixture of playful sarcasm and anger behind his voice.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. It seemed like I’d apologized a thousand times over in the last several minutes.
He sighed. “Just get in.” He opened the door for me, and I slipped into the passenger seat. Sheriff Knoxx was on his radio talking to Otis. My phone rang. It was Margaret. I’d forgotten all about her.
“Hi, I got your message and I’m on my way,” she said when I picked up.