C1 Chapter 1

Why?

What are you doing?

Please, talk to me.

Darius stares back at me through narrow eyes. His expression is cold; his face unreadable.

Every effort I make to connect with him, to hear his thoughts and reveal mine, is met with stone-cold silence. I feel his emotions coloring my own, dancing around the edges of my heart, but that’s all. Just a steady sense of anger--nothing more, nothing less.

After so many hours of living with souls intertwined, this distance between us feels immeasurable. I can’t understand what’s changed. My eyes bore into his, trying to find a window into our bond, but I’m shut out.

There’s a throbbing pain in my veins. I started to notice it in the passage in the Grand Hall, but ignored it because there was too much going on. Now it’s all I can think about, and being near Darius is only making it worse.

Every fiber of my being wants to break down, to scream and cry and fire bolts of lightning into the air, but I push back. It’s not that I don’t want to show myself to Darius, because I’m sure he can already feel my emotional assault; I don’t want to give the satisfaction to Timót. AJ’s lying still on the ground, Darius has betrayed my baby, and I’m surrounded by a thunder of dragons, but I will not let my father assume he’s taken an ounce of my power.

I keep my eyes on Darius as he walks toward Timót, the vampire’s gaze never leaving mine. I’m still baffled by this mental wall he’s erected between us. We did a magical blood ritual that was supposed to meld our brains together, and suddenly it’s like he’s opted out of the contract. And it’s not like he’s been drifting away--our minds were one and the same less than an hour ago.

Darius arrives next to my father, and the sight of the two of them side by side makes me clutch my wand so hard I’m worried it will break. Good thing we went with the dragon scale model.

“You didn’t have any trouble using the pendant?” my evil father asks my potentially evil blood-bound lover.

Darius nods slowly, his dark, unreadable eyes still on me. His gaze is unsettling, unbreaking and completely lacking expression. If he knows how badly he’s wronged me, why won’t he look away? If he has some sort of explanation, why doesn’t he offer it?

He holds up the Érintett medallion that I found in the dragon cave, the one Erzsébet had taken. “I didn’t know such a small piece could serve as a portal between realms.”

“I spent many years charming that pendant,” my father says with a sense of pride, taking the medallion back and putting it around his neck. “I failed repeatedly until an ancient sorcerer gave me the enchanted blood of a Sylph, and now I have the ability to travel at will.”

I’m appalled by the coordination between Darius and Timót, and confused by the importance of this pendant I found on a charred corpse in a cave. “Why leave it behind then?”

Timót smiles, a pompous look on his deceitful face. “Oh, I didn’t leave it behind. As it happens, I was there when you came for your scale. After killing the dragon I created the illusion of my death, lying in wait to bring you and your baby here. I can’t tell you how disappointing it was that you didn’t bring your child. Irresponsible, really.”

Thank God I can transfer power into this wand without destroying it, because the rage inside me right now is off the charts. “Thank you so much for the parenting tips. You’ve always been so good at it.”

I’m not going to crack. He’s not going to kill me or my baby--not yet, anyway--so I’ll keep my cool and hope it ruffles his feathers. He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying my barbs, but I haven’t quite gotten under his skin yet.

“Fortunately,” he says, looking at Darius, “the delayed timeline worked in my favor. Now we have an escort to the temple.”

Darius doesn’t return the look, his gaze still penetrating my own. My ears fill with deafening silence as I try to pry open his thoughts and find out what’s happening.

“You’ll be happy to know,” Timót says to me, “that my dragons and I are going to destroy the sacrificial chambers meant to bleed the Last Witch. Without that element of the prophecy, the vampires will assume their fate is as good as sealed.”

“And then what?” I ask, while keeping my eyes on Darius, as the question readily applies to either traitor.

“Then I’ll keep the child while slowly convincing you of the promising life that could be yours. It’s hard for you to understand now--”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that,” I say, cutting him off. “That’s the type of argument someone without a convincing argument says over and over. You’re a trash ball and everyone knows it, so let’s stop pretending someday I’ll understand otherwise and we’ll be one big happy family of psychopaths.”

My dad flares his nostrils as he takes a deep breath, making a face similar to one I’ve seen all too many times in the mirror. When he exhales, he’s no less angry. “If you weren’t such a foolish young girl, maybe you could be made to see the grander themes at play, as your vampire friend managed to do.”

“Yeah, well...” The staring match between myself and Darius continues, and it’s harder than ever to keep my cool. “He might be garbage, too.”

For the first time since he arrived, I feel a blip inside me, a small bubble in our emotional union. Nothing registers on the vampire’s face, but I can sense a tiny wound from my words.

Why? I say again, practically screaming inside my head while trying to keep my face still, hoping that little word will slip through the small crack that’s appeared in the wall between us.

Nothing. Trying to connect with him only makes the throbbing in my veins worse.

This tiny sliver of an opening is gone, sealed up tight once again.

I raise my wand, not aiming at Timót, but Darius. I don’t know what spell I plan on shouting, I only know I’m at the end of my rope and I either need to find out why he’s done this or make him hurt. Since I’m not sure he can feel the pain coursing through me, I might need to see it on his face.

“I’d be careful, Bernadette,” Timót says in a disgustingly condescending tone. “I believe Darius is the only vampire who doesn’t want you to die. Any harm you cause him won’t help you or your child in any way.”

My current despair makes it hard to care about what might happen and when. Whatever his intentions, Darius betrayed me. Perhaps he couldn’t bear the thought of us being apart, but this wasn’t his decision to make, and it wasn’t the right choice. I mean, does he think we’ll ride off into the sunset together after my daughter’s ripped away and my father adds immortality to his list of powers?

“When do we leave?” Darius asks.

“As soon as you subdue Bernadette,” Timót says, his eyes on my wand. “As a show of good faith. I need to know you’re on my side before you deliver me to the king.”

Darius’ eyes pull away from mine for the briefest moment, glancing at my father and then returning to me. In the fraction of a second while he looks away, I feel him return to me. I feel his pain, sense his sorrow and his rage. But the sensation disappears as quickly as it comes, leaving me empty again.

“Of course,” Darius says, his tone sending an ice-cold dagger into my heart. “So you’re aware, the king won’t trust to turn you until he sees the baby on the altar. Even then...”

My wand trembles in my hand. To hear these words from Darius’ lips shreds any sense of control I have left.

You’re a monster.

Hatred pushes out the pain and betrayal, leaving nothing but rage toward this man I once loved with all of my soul, who I allowed to become myself, to inhabit my very being. The anger is maddening, and it’s finally pushed me too far.

“Sebhely tűz!”

I scream the first fire spell that comes to mind, one meant to maim but not necessarily to kill. A thin line of light darts out of my wand, sparks flying from the tip. As fast as the blast leaves my wand, Darius is somewhere else. It would appear vampires move faster than the speed of light, and we hadn’t covered paranormal speed in my witching lessons before the attack. Poor planning, I guess.

Before I can plot my next move--having barely thought out my initial attack--I feel a burning rope wrap around my body. Timót has seized the opportunity to wrangle me, as a bright cord extends from his wand and tightly binds my arms to my sides. I look down to see my hands trapped at my thighs, my wand uselessly pointed at the stone beneath my feet.

Looks like my first instinct to keep my shit together and not lose my cool was the right call. Now I’m helpless and hopeless, with a screaming baby pinned even more tightly to my chest.

There’s no longer any chance of keeping my emotions at bay, and tears roll down my cheeks and dampen Rain’s little hairs. Through my blurry eyes I see Darius and Timót moving in my direction. They stand next to each other, two men who I thought were on opposite sides of this war and in opposite spectrums of my affection. Things haven’t made sense for a long time now, but this is the most incomprehensible development.

“You’re powerful,” Timót says. “There’s no question of that. But you’re not prepared to fight the forces at odds with you.”

“Let’s go,” Darius says, his black pupils looking more hollow than fierce. I don’t think I even recognize this man anymore.

“Not until everyone is ready,” Timót says, his eyes narrowed as he glares at the vampire. They’ve clearly agreed on the basics of a plan, but implicit trust is definitely lacking in this partnership.

“I don’t want any foul play from the young witch. And, let me remind you,” Timót says as he points his wand toward the sky, “that you’re quite outnumbered.”

The tip of his wand brightens, but instead of sending out a flare of light, it emits a deep, pulsing hum. The sound reverberates in my ears for a few moments, and then my eyes dart from side to side as various figures appear around us. Some wear cloaks like Timót, others are dressed in unfamiliar styles, and some don’t look human at all. It’s an eclectic assortment of men, now forming a circle around us and making a bad situation feel infinitely worse.

“There was no shortage in disenfranchised people and creatures wanting to join a greater cause,” my father says as the strangers draw closer. “These men understand the real damage the witch’s prophecy has brought. Someday you will both see what they see.”

As Timót’s army appears, Darius’ stare never waivers from mine, though a quick blink shows me his hesitation. Whether he’s trying to decide an action or swallowing his pride, I can’t tell.

That momentary lapse gives me a glimmer of hope. Perhaps this is all part of a ploy--lead Timót on long enough to make him complacent, then rip him apart. After all, Darius wouldn’t break a sweat killing this Érintett leader, I don’t care how powerful he is or what army he’s brought. There’s no way any of these men can match the strength and cunning of the vampire prince.

The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that this is the moment my love will return to me. Timót will feel protected by his men, and that’s when Darius will strike and rip his wand away. Then I’ll be free to use my magic and we’ll send the dragons and the Érintett followers running for the hills.

My hope strengthens with each second. Darius is conflicted, but not about what to do, just how to do it. Is it really this simple? All of Timót’s careful planning laid to waste by trusting the wrong vampire?

He starts to walk toward me at a slow, steady gait. He’d move faster if he meant to disarm or hurt me. The pace will allow him to pick his moment, kill the lot and carry me to safety.

Any second now, he’ll move at an imperceptible speed and plunge a dagger into my father’s chest. Or snap his neck. Or cut his throat.

Any second now.

Any...

Second.

Darius reaches my side, his eyes devoid of feeling as they stay locked with mine. I sense the same steady stream of anger inside him, but I can’t understand where it’s directed. For all I know, all the hostility could be aimed at me.

He reaches up and wraps his fingers around my wand, his cool touch passing through the piece and into my hand.

Then the sensation--and my wand--are ripped away.

He walks back to Timót and unceremoniously hands over the beautiful, rare, exquisite wand I worked so hard to make. Timót grins and slides the stick into the sleeve of his cloak.

“Thank you,” he says to Darius.

The vampire nods and steps away, his gaze still on me. If his plan was to kill my father and save my child, he’s just made it infinitely more difficult. As for me ever forgiving him, he’s made it all but impossible.

“Now we may go. Come, my sárkányok,” Timót says, and with a wave of his arm the dragons descend to the ground around us. All of the soldiers that were just revealed begin climbing on the beasts’ backs, making it clear we’re traveling as a pack. The strangers throw sideways glances at me and Rain, but I can’t be bothered to pull my focus away from Darius and my father. I glance between the two, not knowing who to hate more. In their own ways, both gave me life, and now it feels like they’re both trying to take that away.

Timót points his wand at me and mutters úszó, sending me and Rain floating a few feet above the ground. “You’ll ride on Agoston, Bernadette. She’s the oldest of the thunder.”

I feel a warm, scaly body slither beneath me as I’m lowered onto the creature’s back. Agoston is bright orange with purple markings along the edges of her wings. I wonder if she was also stolen from her mother in the deep caves.

The warm tether that had just been wrapped around my torso now snakes around my legs as well, strapping me to the dragon’s back. As I study my mythical transportation, my gaze drifts back to AJ’s body. I have no idea if she’s alive or dead, but I can’t bear to leave her either way.

“Please,” I say. “Can’t we save her? Or at least bring her so I can say goodbye?”

Timót, now mounted on a dark blue dragon, looks at my fallen friend, his expression skeptical. Before he can answer, Darius speaks.

“If she’s not already dead, the vampires would kill her quickly. Chances of survival are better if she stays here.”

We’re in a different world, in the middle of nowhere, with no idea what kind of help AJ might need, and he thinks it’s best to just leave her? If there had been a tiny flicker of hope left that my Darius still existed, it just got snuffed out.

He climbs onto the back of a large, green beast. With his head turned away from me, I feel his soul flash through mine. When he pauses his climb, I know he feels it as well.

Forgive me, he whispers into my mind.

Hearing his voice again almost breaks me, but my anger is a living fire raging in my soul, and it consumes my grief, using the fodder of my crushed heart as fuel for growth. He’s taken us past the point of no return, and no words can fix that.

Never, I whisper back.