Dark Promise (Darkhaven Saga Book 3) Page 13

  My fist makes contact with bone, and I hear it snap. I hear screams and howls, cursing and incantations. Spells spoken in Latin echo in my mind. I don’t comprehend what’s being said, and I don’t give their words another thought. I need to fight my way off Mamá’s land and back into the forest. Will and I can reach the manor before the sun rises as long as we move quickly.

  I come face to face with an unfamiliar witch. I know she will be an easy kill. The frightened look in her eyes will not haunt me. I will take her life far too easily, and I will succumb to the darkness every vampire must face in order to do it.

  In the blink of an eye, I’m before her, but the moment I slash to end her life, claws lengthened and drool dripping down my chin like I’m some rabid beast, something stops me. A blast of fire meant only as a warning assaults my chest. I fall to the ground, instinctively patting my jacket to put out the embers. The fire witch easily could have taken my life, but she didn’t. Why?

  From where I lie on the ground, I glance up. Liv towers over me. Her gaze is hard, but something softer lingers there. Silently, she begs me to stop fighting. How can she ask me to roll over and die? Where is the dignity in that? And does she really think that’s something I could do? It’s as if she doesn’t know me at all. Maybe she doesn’t anymore, because the girl she’s become is nothing like the witch I once knew.

  If she’s not going to play nice, then neither will I. I kick my legs forward, striking her in the ankles. I hit her far harder than intended, and a wave of guilt washes over me as she yelps when she falls to the ground. She breaks her fall with her hands and tumbles over. Her head smacks the frozen ground, and she grunts in response. Dazed, she lies still beside me.

  I scramble to my feet, prepared to do whatever necessary to save my soul from eternal damnation. I don’t have time to think about how insane it is that I’m fighting my former best friend, especially considering I was ready to sacrifice everything to locate her.

  I fought the vampires and was nearly exiled because of my belief that Liv was innocent and didn’t deserve to die just because of her association with me. And now we’re dueling to the death. Although I will admit, I’m doing that really poorly. If she were any other witch, I would have killed her by now. I wouldn’t be twirling around on the ground, hoping this is some wicked nightmare.

  “Suficiente!” someone yells.

  Her words lash out at me the moment her blade pierces my side. Sharp, cold, and brutal, it sinks into my gut like I was soft butter. I feel every inch of metal scraping against flesh. I howl as it enters me, knees buckling. I fall to the ground, blinking away the pain. My kneecaps smack against the earth, and a fierce cramp radiates up my thighs. The icy earth digs into my jeans, soaking the material through.

  My heart is pulsating in my mind, and my chest is heaving. My vision is blurry, but I feel the exact moment she places her foot against my back and uses her strength to push my wounded body off her weapon.

  I collapse forward. Not bothering to catch myself, I fall against the ground. The grass is dead and dry, the frost coating my mouth and tasting like dirt. I suck in a sharp breath, lungs filling with the fluffy, light snow that is shimmering as flurries fall around me. I choke on it as it melts and hack to relieve myself.

  With each cough, the stabbing sensation in my side grows stronger. I wince when it becomes too much to bear. I feel myself healing, my flesh tethering together like braided hair. I was careless. It takes far too much strength to heal myself, and even though there is an endless supply of blood nearby, I worry what I’ll become if I taste it.

  Someone reaches for me and guides me onto my back. I roll over and arch away from the ground, gasping as the frozen earth brushes against my fresh wound, and I stare into a familiar set of cold, hard irises.

  “Abuela,” I whisper in disbelief.

  My grandmother has been away for the many months I’ve been a vampire. Having witnessed my coven’s initial downfall the night I died, she left the country on her usual trip to visit distant relatives I’ve never met and have no intention of ever bringing into this dark world I currently inhabit.

  Papá always wanted me to leave with her, to learn the old ways of our people, but after he died, Mamá refused. She was too afraid she’d lose me too. Unfortunately, Abuela didn’t care for her excuses, and that was Mamá’s first mistake. Abuela is a force to be reckoned with, and Mamá’s refusal to leave my side after witnessing her husband’s demise was considered a disgrace to what he stood for.

  When Papá was alive, he and Mamá were set to lead our coven, but after he died, Abuela refused to relinquish control to her. She hoped to one day pass the torch to me, even though I made it clear I had no intention of leading this coven.

  Now I stare into her eyes, and I feel my blood run cold. I’ve always been afraid of my grandmother. She is a fierce woman who is unafraid of vampires. When I was a child, I watched her kill one who was hunting in the woods. This was after Papá died, and watching her slice through the vampire’s gut, penetrating his heart, was a bit too graphic for my young eyes. Even so, her strength inspired me to become the hunter I am today. I should thank her. She’s one of the reasons I’m still alive.

  “Enough of this, niña,” my grandmother says. “No más.”

  My throat tightens as she stares down at me, her lip quivering from her anger. Her steely gaze is cold, and it penetrates deep into my soul. I want to fight back, to surprise her with my own strength and power, but I can’t. I’m frozen in place by her hatred alone.

  Will screams, catching my attention. I search for him in the distance, hoping he is close enough to the forest to escape this mess. Even if I didn’t survive, knowing he did would grant my soul peace.

  When I see him on the ground, bloody and burned, my mind goes numb. He’s crouching on all fours, with swirling streams of magic cascading all around him.

  He’s flung upward, and he rests his butt on the heels of his feet. His knees rest against the ground, and his face betrays his pain. He’s bleeding and bruised, and slowly, his magic attempts to restore him.

  The witch magic surrounding him slithers around his feet and hands, threading together, keeping him in place. He struggles to release himself, but every time he does, his enemies approach him, chanting louder, and he cries out. Eventually, he gives up, head lolling to the side, but his gaze never reaches me.

  “Will!” I shout.

  He does not look at me. Instead, he slumps over, defeated.

  “What’s happening?” I ask. I glance at the others, but no one will look at me.

  When I search the crowd and find my mother, I ask her what’s happening.

  “¿Mamá? ¿Qué estás haciendo?” I ask, but she does not respond.

  “Stand, niña,” Abuela says.

  Although I’m angry and in desperate need of answers, I still obey. A chilling rush washes over me when she speaks. The sensation is eerily familiar to the many times I’ve participated in past coven rituals. Abuela orders, and I must comply. It’s instinctual.

  Teetering on my feet, I hold on to my wounded side. The blood curdles in my hand, and I grunt as my torso stretches in my attempt to stand tall.

  The witches’ chanting grows louder. The stream of magic shoots toward me, assaulting my body with such force, I nearly skid backward on my heels. I dig them into the ground, proving I can withstand the brunt of their fury.

  Just like with Will, the witches’ magic slithers toward me like a snake on the prowl. It strikes, lashing out and slinking around my limbs. I screech, trying to shake it off. I scratch at my arms, but it’s no use. The magic has coated my body, and it will take much more than my feeble swipes to remove it.

  When their snaking magic finally ceases its assault, I’m bound by my wrists, just like Will. Thankfully, my feet are free, and I consider my options. Could I outrun them? Even if I could, I would have to abandon Will. Could I live with myself if I knowingly left him to his demise?

  Their invisible magic twists tig
htly around my hands, threading through my fingers and lacing around my palms. It squeezes my arms tightly, painfully together, and I wince as my shoulders tighten, objecting.

  “What are you doing? What is this?” I ask, looking at Mamá. She might refuse to speak to me now, but she can’t avoid me forever. I will keep reminding her that she’s attempting to murder her daughter. She can’t possibly be such a monster.

  “Do not speak unless spoken to, child,” Abuela orders.

  Ignoring her, I glance at Will, who is still seated on the ground. With hands and feet bound, he looks up at me. My heart breaks for the little boy he’s becoming before me. No longer strong, he’s scared and hurt. He knows he’s on his deathbed, and like me, he’s not ready to die.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him. Tears prickle behind my eyes, but I do not release them. I won’t give the witches power over my emotions any longer.

  “Ava,” Mamá says, catching my attention.

  I jerk my head to look at her. “Mamá…” I whisper, my voice in disbelief. How has it come to this?

  “Vas a estar bien,” she says, but I don’t believe her. How will I be okay? How will this be fine?

  “Por favor, Mamá, dime qué está pasando,” I beg. I just need to know what’s happening to us. What magic is this? It feels dark and unnatural. My skin itches where it rests against me. And what do the witches plan to do to two hybrids?

  “While your grandmother was away, she uncovered the ancient magic of our people,” Mamá explains.

  “Yes, apparently it is up to me to correct the errors of this coven,” Abuela says, glaring at Mamá. My mother cowers under the gaze of her high priestess.

  A flash of rage erupts within me. Why is this her fault? Why has no one blamed the rogue vampires for this mess? If not for them, no one would be here right now.

  “What kind of ancient magic?” I ask. I steal a glance at Will, who seems as utterly confused as I am. The binding on my wrists wraps tighter, and I grind my teeth, groaning. It’s a warning, but I won’t be silenced.

  “A cursed prophecy about a creature—half-dark and half-light,” Mamá says. “You cannot remain both, mija, and this dark spell will correct that.”

  “We will reverse this abomination,” Abuela says. Her words are laced with anger, and they lash out at me. I too cower beneath her stare, frustrated that she ignites such an instinctual reaction from me.

  “We weren’t expecting the other,” Mamá says, glancing at Will, “but we will return him to his destined path too.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “What magic? What path? What are you going to do to us?”

  “We will suppress your vampire halves,” Abuela says. “It will be as if it no longer exists.”

  “But…it does exist. The vampire is part of me. Mamá, please don’t do this.”

  “Cállate, niña,” Mamá says, silencing me. “This must be done.”

  “If you remove our vampire halves, what’s left?” Will asks, finally speaking. He sounds…intrigued, but I must be misreading his emotions. He has to be as frightened as I am right now. The binding on my wrists is making it difficult to think clearly. It digs deeper into my flesh, and soon it will cut through skin.

  “La bruja,” Abuela says.

  I swallow the knot that forms in my throat and glance at Will. He eyes me curiously, not understanding my grandmother.

  “The witch,” I whisper.

  “To complete this spell, I must link the unfortunates to another. Sacrifices, step forward,” Abuela orders.

  Mamá walks to me, never breaking my gaze when she says, “I will link with my daughter.”

  “Y el chico?” Abuela asks.

  No one steps forward to save Will, and for a brief moment, I fear what that will mean. I don’t understand this link or its purpose, but I’m certain not having one at all means an untimely death when it comes time to perform the spell.

  After several seconds pass, and after I’ve silently pleaded with just about every witch chaining me to this place, someone steps forward. I’m not surprised by her desire to help, because not even a half hour ago, Will risked his life in an attempt to save hers.

  “Liv, are you sure?” Mamá asks. “Do you understand what this means?”

  Liv nods but doesn’t look at Will or me. Perhaps her shame is getting the best of her. It may be petty, but I hope that feeling haunts her every day for the rest of her life.

  “We must hurry,” Abuela says. “The sun is rising.”

  I stare at the sky. In the distance, it grows lighter. I watch as the sun begins to rise, the world erupting in a fury of light as the darkness is cast away. Every second that passes, I see the blanket of sunlight cascading the land, encroaching far too close to my uncovered skin.

  Will fights against his restraints as he too watches the sun rise. I still have so many questions for him, not just about what we are and what our magic can do, but also, I want to know about him. What is his story? Was his former coven as messed up as mine is? How long has he been searching for another hybrid to spend his days with? Does he regret meeting me? And as the sun begins to rise in the distance, I fear I will never have answers to the many questions circling my mind.

  “What if the spell doesn’t work?” I cry out, hoping someone, anyone will answer me. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I do know vampires can’t survive sunlight. We all know what will happen when that sunlight graces my skin.

  “Entonces morirás,” Abuela says, utterly emotionless at the thought of losing her only grandchild.

  “Mamá!” I scream. “Stop this! Stop it now!”

  But it’s too late. My mother is ignoring me, choosing to focus instead on murdering her daughter.

  The witches have closed in on us, and they link hands now. They’re so close. If I weren’t frozen in place, held by invisible, magical restraints, I could save myself. But every time I try to break free, the bindings slice into my flesh. Blood drips in steady streams down my hands, splattering onto the icy ground.

  A pool of blood sits at Will’s feet. He stares into the distance, ignoring the witches completely as he watches the sunrise. I can’t see his face, but I’m sure it displays my level of fear. If the witches’ magic fails, we will combust, our lives ending in a blazing inferno. That’s not exactly the way I want to go.

  The crunch of frozen snow under steps distracts me from watching Will, and I jerk my head around to see who’s approaching. Mamá is close enough now to touch me, but she does not. Liv is walking closer to Will but at a much more cautionary pace. She doesn’t trust him, but she offers her life up as a link. Does she truly feel such guilt?

  I look into the forest, hoping to see the familiar set of crimson irises I so desperately need right now, but I know they will not be there. The vampires will not venture out with the sun rising. That’s certain death. If Will and I plan to escape, we must do so on our own.

  “Extiende tus brazos, hija,” Mamá says.

  I turn back toward her, confused.

  “Hm? What?” I say.

  “Hold out your arms,” she repeats.

  I frown and glance down. My arms are dangling in front of me, blood dripping down my skin, coating my hands and nails. When I glance up at her, her demeanor has changed. She is angry, aggressive.

  “Give me your arms, or die from the sun,” Mamá orders.

  Eyes wide with fear, I nod and hold them up to her. I swallow hard and gnaw on my lower lip. I don’t dare look at Will. Either he will comply, or he will die. Either way, I do not want to watch what is about to happen to us.

  The witches chant in Latin, and I struggle to understand them. It’s been so long since I’ve even thought about the Latin language, and I’m too rusty to focus on this foreign spell.

  The four of us—Mamá, Liv, Will, and I—are the only beings at the center of the witches’ circle. The altar is a few feet away from me, and it is adorned with many things I recognize and some I do not. Relics to represent the el
ements are placed at the four corners of the altar top, and in the center, a bright, golden sphere represents the sun. In a jar, I see something black, a tarry substance that makes my skin crawl. I’ve never seen it before, so I don’t know its purpose.

  Mamá begins to chant as well, but I ignore her too. The blanket of sunlight is close now, and the world is becoming alight. I have only minutes left to live, so with shaky legs and a sputtering heart, I take this time to close my eyes and clear my mind. I try not to cry or beg. I don’t want to be weakened in these final moments.

  Ignoring the witches’ banter, I try to be at peace with my life and with my decisions that led me here. I may have upset the vampires and made mistakes, but I can walk into the flames of death with a clear conscience. The witches never deserved my respect or my loyalty, but helping them in their times of need was the right thing to do. Sometimes we have to cast aside our differences for the greater good, even if that means our own downfall.

  Mamá uses my distraction to her benefit, and with my arms held out before me, she finishes her spell, linking our souls by way of the sun’s strength. The great ball of fire in the sky is more powerful than even the moon, and I don’t need to understand their spell to know they are committing an irreversible act against Will and me.

  “My will be done,” Mamá says.

  A cold chill works its way down my spine as I slowly turn to look at my mother. I remember this moment. It has haunted me since the night I foresaw it. Even so, I am not prepared for the moment a sudden flash of silver radiates across my vision. The blade is brought down, slicing through my flesh, leaving a large crimson gash in its wake.

  The moment the blade slashes my forearm, I jolt back to reality. I scream as Mamá digs her fingers into my deeper flesh. When I open my eyes, I watch through blurred vision as she squeezes her free hand into a tight grasp. Droplets of her blood drip into my open body, snaking its way into my veins.

  I shriek, engulfed in pain so great it feels as though my soul is being ripped from my body.