by SARA FREITES
Scythe’s closely shaven black hair offset the two fiery gemstones in the middle of his face—crimson where his pupils should have been, and it faded out into a highlighter yellow through his irises. Lightning flashed once more, revealing my attackers. I didn’t recognize either of their strikingly handsome, and in some way familiar, faces. I soon realized that other than their eye color and the way they each wore their ebony hair, they were identical.
“Try again,” Vex ordered Scythe.
Vex threw me to the ground and held me down with his unbearably cold hands. Scythe knelt beside me. A streetlight reflected off the blade, blood staining its tip. I stared in horror at the elaborate dagger-like knife. I shrieked, but a clap of thunder exploded. It was so earsplitting I couldn’t even hear myself.
“Why didn’t it work the first time? She should be dead!” Scythe rumbled through his fangs.
“It is said that she holds the partial soul of a vampire. If that is true, then, yes. It should have worked. Do it again. This time, be sure it goes all the way through,” Vex demanded.
“No! Stop!” I cried.
Scythe peered down at me with his blazing eyes. He held the immense dagger in the air. I tensed and struggled hopelessly against Vex’s incredible strength, but his hands were like two heavy cement blocks on my shoulders. I screamed again.
A man dropped from the sky. He landed directly on top of Scythe who collapsed and lost his grip on the dagger. It hit the ground with a resounding clang close by. The man jumped away against the building. Scythe and Vex stood at the same time. I sat up. Lightning brought forth a bold, bright image of Blake ahead of us.
“Is it Arlos?” Scythe worried. “He looks different than I remember.”
“No, you fool. That’s not Arlos. I don’t know who that is. Just stay away from...Scythe!” Vex roared as Scythe took several aggressive steps toward Blake, flipping the massive dagger in his hand.
He charged at Blake. They collided. Blake’s back hit the wall. Scythe twisted the jagged blade into Blake's chest. Blake shoved Scythe away, and the man hit the brick wall on the other side of the alley. The brick cracked at his weight, and he bounced away. Blake eased the weapon from his chest. I watched blood drip from its blade as he readied it.
“What are you?” Vex demanded of Blake.
“That should have killed him!” Scythe yelped. “This dagger isn’t what it’s said to be.”
“No, that’s not it,” Vex asserted. “I had no idea the reincarnation had such allies. Arlos can find out for himself what he’s up against. Let’s go.”
Five other men unexpectedly dropped from the building next to us. They landed in perfect formation around our assailants. Scythe cursed as his fiery eyes went to the sky. Both men bolted in the air, disappearing into the night like two startled pigeons.
“They flew!” one of the vampires called out.
“Follow them!” another vampire shouted. It was Terry.
With that, the four other men scaled the walls in pursuit, leaving Terry with us. I could see Blake’s haunting eyes searching for me. I tried to get up, but my legs felt weak and heavy. I fell to one side. Blake and Terry hastily neared me. With the dagger in one hand, Blake lifted me to my feet with a strong arm wrapped around my waist.
“It’s the Soleil Dagger!” Terry declared after studying the weapon.
“I saw him stab you,” I weakly said to Blake.
“I’m okay,” Blake said quietly.
“You were stabbed?” Terry asked Blake.
“I’m fine,” Blake reassured us.
“I smell blood,” Terry added.
Blake pulled the breast of his jacket over his chest where I swore I’d watched the blade penetrate. Confused, I searched his eyes. Before I could question him, Blake spoke again.
“Are you hurt?” he asked me.
“No, I—” I stammered, feeling as if I didn’t have enough air to finish the sentence.
A dull ringing rose in my ears. My lower back tightened with an unusual pressure. A fainting sensation fell over me.
“Autumn?” Terry asked as he approached and looked to Blake with just his eyes. “The color is draining from her face.”
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked me.
He took a step back to get a better look at me while helping me balance. Something warm rolled down the small of my back. It could have been sweat, but the amount of it felt unusual. Tiny white stars appeared in my vision. At any moment, I was sure my knees would buckle like the rafters of an old house.
“I need to sit,” I said, my words slurred together.
I clung to Blake’s arm to steady myself as he reached for me with his other hand. His fingers swept across my lower back. I felt something smear between his hand and my skin. Turning that hand over, he drew a quick breath.
“You’re bleeding,” Blake confirmed.
“What?” Terry barked, leaning in.
“I think I’m...I think I’m going to pass out,” I breathlessly warned, swept by dizziness.
Shivering, I inhaled sharply as the discomfort morphed into a burning sensation and then into a pain much like the way it might feel to be cut open with a hot poker. But it didn’t stop there. It radiated throughout my entire body, deep within my core. I must have blacked out for less than a second because I found myself collapsing into Blake.
“Autumn!” he shouted.
I heard the dagger hit the street. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing. I grabbed hold of his shirt, screaming as a waterfall of tears slid down my face so fast and uncontrollable that they caught me off guard.
“We need to take her to the Sanctum,” Terry advised.
His words faded in and out to me as he knelt to take the dagger. Blake stepped out into the rain with me close to unconsciousness in his arms. We shot up so high that we reached the roof of the skyscraper across the street. The world around me became a blur of colors and lights as we ascended, my tears dried by the wind while we moved against it.
I hardly remember arriving at the Sanctum where Blake carried me in, and everything my eyes took in swirled together. Nothing made visual sense. The pain became mind-numbing. My lower back throbbed and burned, my skin so hot I worried steam would rise from it.
We were suddenly in the room I’d lived in for weeks. Blake carefully set me stomach-down across the bed. There were voices around me, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words as I faded in and out of consciousness. I don’t recall completely passing out, but I do remember waking up wondering if I was lying in a furnace. The pain wasn’t as intense anymore, but I felt sure I ran a high fever. Sweat beaded on my face. I tried to move, my head resting against my crossed arms. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a horrifying sight. My shirt was gathered up just above my waistline where blood pooled in the small of my back. Frightened by the sight of it, I tried to sit up.
“No, stay still,” Blake’s voice instructed. “It’s being treated.” He appeared by my bedside. “Just relax.”
“But I’m bleeding,” I spoke out of breath.
“It’s not your blood,” he informed me, but this was even more disturbing to me.
“What?” I gasped. “Whose blood?”
“It’s mine. It’s healing you.”
“What? Oh my God.”
“Lay back down,” he ordered.
Slowly, I settled down on the comforter, the pain reducing with every breath. Blake leaned over me to wipe the blood away with a wet towel. I peeked back as he finished cleaning the wound to find that all the blood had disappeared. Within seconds, the pain vanished, leaving behind a small scar the color of a carnation. I gawked at the scar, then at Blake.
“T-thank you...for—” I stuttered, unsure of what to say.
“It’s nothing,” he cut me off.
He rewet the towel in a bowl of water that was the color of fruit punch, probably because of the blood. He scrubbed the remaining blood away from my skin.
“Is that permanent?” I asked, nodding at my new scar.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied. “At least it’s easily hidden.”
I sat up and pulled my shirt down, all the while searching for the spot on Blake’s chest where I’d watched the large knife penetrate. There was a tear in his shirt where blood stained the edges, but there was no open wound under the torn fabric—only a thin scar. It resembled the one on his face and the minor ones on his arms. He noticed me staring and adjusted his shirt.
“I have some bad news," he said, his eyes floating away from me. "They found Arlos tonight.”
“What? Where?” I pressed.
“England,” he began. “The members of our brother clan live there. They were helping us in our search, had staked out several buildings in London where large numbers of havidens were seen coming and going for days. But our bother clan was led into an ambush by a decoy. One of them managed to escape the attack. He contacted Thade, claimed Arlos led the ambush. Anyway, we’re leaving tomorrow night. And we have to take you with us.”
The inevitable was finally happening. The door opened. Blake stepped back as Thade and the others entered the room.
“Leave,” Thade harshly ordered Blake, not even looking at him.
Without a word, Blake did as he was told. My eyes were drawn to the weapon Thade gripped tight in his hands. I watched as he wound the blade in a wine-colored towel. I recognized it. Bound by black leather, its handle was thick, bending outward and forming a slight “J” shape. The handle was cast with two gold bands, one in the middle as a grip and the other capping the end. Each gold band presented a deeply carved Celtic-like design. Four round citrine gemstones were set into the leather, two on each side of the handle. The top of the handle, where the blade extended, shined gold in color and protruded like a small, partial shield to guard the wielder's hand and wrist. This portion of the handle bared a carved Celtic cross with a circular emerald embedded in its center. Its blade appeared to be a few inches shy of two feet, reminding me of a frozen silver flame as it curved about with its many sharp edges.
“What is that thing?” I asked Thade.
“Are you okay now?” he asked me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied.
“Are you sure? You were bleeding,” Terry insisted.
“Blake healed me,” I told him.
“Good. Just like he said he could,” Thade said in a gruff voice.
“Wait, he healed you?” Garrett questioned. “How?”
“At this point, I don’t care how he did it. He was doing his job,” Thade cut in. “Now, why were you walking about the city so late? Did I not ask you to stay inside? I could kill Blake for letting you slip away like that.”
“It’s not his fault—” I began.
“I don’t understand,” Eden cut in, changing the subject with her brows raised high over her eyes. “Why would Arlos’ men try to kill her?”
“Yeah.” Garrett again. “Doesn’t Arlos want her alive? For now, at least?”
“Those men weren’t working for Arlos,” I interrupted.
Everyone looked to me.
“They talked about Arlos. It just didn’t seem like they were on his side,” I continued. “They said Arlos doesn’t know what he’s getting into and that I was better off dead. Their skin was weird—bluish-silver, and they had bright-colored eyes. And their names were weird, too. Vex and…Vex and Scythe. Or something like that.”
“The names are familiar. I’m positive it’s the two men we were tracking in London earlier,” Terry concluded. “Making a break to the states, the two must have thought they’d elude us. Oh, and tonight, they flew.”
Eden wheeled around to him. “They flew?” she asked.
“Now we have a second party out there who is neither vampire nor haviden that wants the human dead,” Harper confirmed.
“Great,” Garrett nearly spat.
“At the least, we have one of the daggers now,” Terry pointed to the large weapon in Thade’s arms.
“Will someone please explain to me how the hell that dagger made me feel like I was burning from the inside out?” I interrupted. “What exactly is that thing?”
“We don’t have time to explain everything right now,” Thade intoned.
“She’s going to need to know,” Eden insisted. “I’ll fill her in.”
“While you do that, I’ll let everyone know we’re leaving,” Thade said, pivoted and left.
Eden sat down beside me on the bed. “The dagger you guys brought in tonight is called the Soleil Dagger,” she explained. “It was stolen from Arlos not too long after he used it to murder Latresma and her court. We’ve recently learned from one of our prisoners that a second dagger, the Lumière Dagger, is in London. We just hope it’s not Arlos who has it. You see, the two daggers coincide in this situation. Arlos plans to talk you into re-cursing the daggers so he can open a portal to hell, unleashing his legion of demons and transforming Earth into his own dimension. Instead, we are going to use the daggers against him. The Soleil and the Lumière Daggers date back to around the time of Latresma’s death in the early 1700s. The daggers were sort of a creation of the town priest in France. He had them forged and cursed to defend himself and his daughter against the threat of vampires. That’s the only history we’ve got on them thanks to Terry and what little we’ve discovered through hearsay. We want to keep these daggers out of Arlos’ hands, and the fact that one practically fell into ours is probably the best thing that could have happened.”
“And that dagger has some kind of power?” I tilted my head, unsure of my assumption.
“In a way,” she replied. “If either dagger is used against anyone of vampire blood, just a simple slice of the flesh will have them turning to ash. Instant death. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t kill you. Remember, you are the reincarnation of a vampire, and you carry part of her soul. That’s probably why the dagger affected you so strongly.”
I thought about everything she said. I pictured the blade of that dagger as it was plunged into Blake’s chest. According to what Eden had just said, this would mean Blake wasn’t a vampire or a haviden. I sat staring blankly at the floor as I tried to rationalize it. The next time I was alone with Blake, I wanted to confront him about this.
“So, what do we do about these two men who want to kill her?” Garrett asked.
I’d almost forgotten he was there.
Thade returned. “Never mind that, for now,” he told Garrett. “We have a dagger now, so we must leave for London tomorrow night to join our brother clan and search for the other dagger. Autumn will be safest with us. We’ll leave the rest of the clan behind to hunt these two men down while we’re gone. The rest of us need to get to London and finish this. I’ll have a jet ready to leave late tomorrow night.”
Immediately, tears filled my eyes. “Wait. I want one more night with my family,” I burst out.
“Autumn, this situation is beyond my control now,” he explained. “I cannot have you running about.”
He looked to Garrett, Terry and Eden and nodded for them to leave. I knew Thade was right. Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to accept it.
“Thade, please,” I begged as soon as we were alone, my voice shaking lightly and my chin quivering. “I won’t leave my house, I promise. I’ll just stay inside all day until the jet is ready. You can post as many of your men outside my house as you want, I don’t care.” My chin quivered. “Just let me please spend my last night with my family.”
“Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “No matter how many times I allow you to go home, there will never come a point where you will be ready to leave your family. I’m sorry, but I will not reconsider.”
I drew a trembling breath, trying to keep my composure.
“I’ll watch her.” Blake unexpectedly leaned on the doorway.
“Blake, I can’t trust that she’d be one hundred percent safe if she leaves the protection of this clan,” Thade said deliberately. “We’ve already proven that when I left her in your hands tonight.”
> “The only thing I proved tonight is that I can protect her better than anyone else can,” Blake argued.
Thade grew quiet as he stared back at me.
I held back a smile.
Chapter 14
Blood Thirsty
I arrived home just before sunrise, before anyone awoke to notice my absence. Since Thade had strictly forbidden me to leave the house, I told my parents I didn’t feel well enough to go to breakfast with them at grandma’s house that morning. Instead, after my family left, I invited Gemma over. She brought us breakfast from a deli close to my house, one we used to meet at after cheer practice on the weekends.
We spent most of the morning reminiscing about middle school and freshman year. I watched her face light up as she talked about how much fun our senior year would be. Although a level of excitement rose inside of me, I found it doused by the downpour of reality. Not even the glow that spread across Gemma’s face as she went on about all the things we’d get to do together could lift my spirits. All of this was irrelevant now. A sickening feeling caused me to change the subject. When Gemma gathered her purse to leave, we hugged. I held our embrace longer than normal. She laughed as I told her what an amazing friend she’d been. When we parted, tears welled up in my eyes.
“See you later!” she called as she jumped in her car, unaware that our casual goodbyes were for real.
When everyone got home, Grandma came with them. With the weather warmer that day than it had been in months, we all sat on the back porch and talked all afternoon, eventually eating lunch there together. Later that night, my dad set Sammy on his lap while he and Jericho watched TV, and my mom and I cooked dinner together. She took the top off the pot and stirred the bubbling rice. Steam rose from the pot.
“It makes me so happy when you help me cook dinner. It gives us time alone to talk,” Mom said.
My eyes watered again. “I love you, Mom,” was all I could say.
After dinner, I took Sammy to bed and hugged him goodnight. On my way out, I stopped.
“Be good, Sammy,” I said in a hushed voice. “When you get older, don’t ever take crap from anybody. Stand up for yourself, no matter what. I love you.”