Chapter 1
Unbreakable
Ijerked awake, catapulting to an upright position.
Panic and horror burned through me as I stared wide-eyed, trying to peel back the layers of night.
My heart boomed against my chest, my breathing fast and ragged.
My hand bolted to my stomach—no blood, no intestines hanging out like fat sausages.
Relief did not quell the terror. My other hand snatched at the knife under the pillow but shook so badly I dropped it.
Shit. My fingers grasped for it again, my sweaty palm clutching it tight in front of my chest.
I blinked rapidly. Shredded light from the fire crackled across the room, seeming like slitted orange eyes. The glow waned the darkness just enough to let me see so the terror of the shadows didn’t choke me. Darkness and I were ancient enemies.
The nightmare clung on to me like a haunted echo.
Nightmare, not real, not real.
I closed my eyes, shaking all over, breathing in deeply, trying to slow my heart rate.
Not real.
My nightmares always played out like a movie in my mind. Even in the light of day, sometimes it was hard to differentiate between what was reality and what was made up in my head. But Sarah had attacked me, the memories a torture that was impossible to keep buried.
I slipped the knife to the bedside table and stretched my hand across the silk sheets, seeking his warmth.
Seeking his comfort. I was met with cool, empty space.
Disappointment curled through me. But I wasn’t surprised—Karson was probably out hunting Sarah.
He put himself in danger every night when he went out looking for her, to protect me.
I’d rather be out there with him, but he wouldn’t even let me leave the house, let alone help hunt the vampire who almost took my life.
Her face twisted with rage, her eyes glowing red like the depths of hell.
Turned out, when someone tried to kill you, it was remarkably hard to get the images out of your head. Despite the warmth of the room, a chill crawled over my skin.
Karson was a firstborn, I reminded myself. He could handle himself. He would be fine. I blew out a breath as I glanced at the clock; it was only ten p.m. One hour of sleep before yet another nightmare—that’s a new record. At least I didn’t scream this time.
My nightgown clung to my sweaty back and thirst clawed at my throat.
After nightmares, my mother would make hot chocolates and sit with me and read until I fell back to sleep. Reliving moments we shared was a way to keep her alive in my mind, if only for a few moments. I climbed out of bed, padding barefoot down the hallway.
“You are not taking her.” A deep, poison-laden voice slipping to the second floor halted my steps.
A deep, familiar voice. The only voice I knew that didn’t need to shout to be heard.
When he was annoyed, it was like an ice drill; it shuddered right through bones and was capable of freezing the entire room.
Karson.
The same voice sent a bolt of warmth through my chest.
He told me to remain in my room if ever I heard a commotion until he let me know it was safe.
I should go back. He would be furious if he knew I was here.
But they were talking about me. It would be foolish to ignore it.
Besides, I was hidden behind the wall. I cocked my head and strained to listen.
“She belongs with us, her people, not yours.” The next voice slithered through me with as much warmth as a snake.
Caron, the coven leader, the woman who’d tortured BJ.
And when Karson had stormed in to save us both, she left men, paid human guards as a distraction, to die, just so she could get away.
The witch was comfortably intimate with cruelty.
I’d hate her if she wasn’t the same woman who had used her magic to save my life.
Karson snorted. “Her people? Where were her people when she was tossed into foster care for all those years? You fed her to the wolves and wonder why she wants nothing to do with you.”
I swallowed. I tried not to think of what kind of people my biological parents were to dump their child and leave her to be treated like I was.
I tried not to think about them at all. They didn’t deserve my energy wasted on them.
But as much as I told myself to let it go, there was a twisted part inside that would never forgive them for what they’d done.
“Her childhood is irrelevant. She needs to come with us. She needs to train for what lies ahead. The wolf has been anxious. The attack on the waters is coming, and she will be needed to fight.”
“She will never fight for you.” His voice came out quietly, but it was deadly—he was getting angry. You did not want to anger Karson—not if you wanted to live. “I will not allow her to put herself in danger, ever. Do you understand me?”
“She’s a witch.” Another voice snapped, a woman’s, one I didn’t recognize. “She was born to protect those waters—that is her entire purpose.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. The thought of being born just to kill, of having to kill, and worse, of having people try to kill me … A swallow tapped down my throat.
“You and your pathetic coven have no rights over her.”
“Do you know what will happen if the book ends up in the wrong hands and those waters are spelled?” Caron appealed. “There will be war, people will die, mortals, vampires, and witches.”
“I’m well aware of the danger. I’m a product of them, after all.” A flare of arrogance in his tone.
Caron spoke quieter this time, and I couldn’t hear her.
I edged forward and peered around the corner of the hallway.
Caron, Dahlia, and a woman I didn’t know, stood in an arc just inside the open front door.
Dahlia was dressed in her usual head-to-toe black.
She stood a couple of feet to the side, arms folded.
She was a formidable warrior. She had been trained since she was a young girl to be one.
Unlike me. I didn’t even know I was a witch until about five months ago.
I could move things with my thoughts, hit a knife into a bullseye, harness the power of a wind so strong I could hold a firstborn pinned against a wall.
Lucky for me or I’d dead.
But after a lifetime of training, Dahlia was far more skilled in battle than I could ever be. If the waters were attacked, I’d be all kinds of fucked.
If Dahlia needed to protect Caron, she would. Though she wasn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t try anything against Karson. Unless she lost her temper. Dahlia had a temper. My stomach twisted; I liked Dahlia, even if she was misguided and worked for Caron.
My eyes fell to the other woman, gray streaks through the roots of bright-red hair.
She wore more heavy, chained crystals around her neck than a jewelry shop.
“You and your kind are exactly why we can’t have it happen again,” the woman sneered, glaring at him like he was a bug she wanted to stamp with her booted heel. “You’re an abomination.”
Karson’s shoulders stiffened so subtly the others wouldn’t notice. But I noticed. Even though he kept his face expressionless, being called an abomination struck someplace deep.
He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt casually. “Tread very carefully, witch.” He spoke so softly I barely heard it. “Or your disrespect will be your last.” He too was dressed in all black, ready to blend with the night as if he belonged to it.
“You have to let her go,” Caron said. She was wearing a weird dark-purple cloak over her pants and blouse, the same type of cloak she’d worn when she made herself invisible to escape after she’d tortured BJ.
“This thing you think you have going on with her has to stop. We can protect her far better than you.”
“She will stay with me—she’s mine,” he snarled. “Now get out. I have far more pressing issues at the moment than worrying about something that might not even happen.”
She’s mine. Bird wings fluttered in my chest. I wouldn’t tell anyone because it probably made me sound pathetic, but pathetic I must be because I wanted to be his.
I needed to be his. I didn’t know how he actually felt about me.
He’d told me he loved me right before I drew what we all thought was my last breath.
But death had a way of over-enhancing emotions and he hadn’t told me since.
He cared enough to protect me, but could a vampire who detested witches love someone like me?
The red-haired witch whipped her head toward Caron. “I told you.” Her orange bell sleeve flapped as she threw out a spindly, boned hand. “I told you all of it was a bad idea.”
“Lila, enough.” Caron’s palm shot up to silence her, her gaze glowering with warning.
The red-haired woman turned her attention back to Karson.
She stepped forward, her thin, cracked top lip pulled back with disgust. “You have far more pressing issues because being with you is the reason she’s in danger in the first place.
Release her immediately, or I promise you, you will both suffer in unimaginable ways. ”
I opened my mouth to cry out No, but the word never left my lips.
There was a blur, a flash of black, no more than a streaking shadow, followed by a wet, ripping sound.
Red, horribly bright, cradled by her orange hair, streaked through the dimly lit foyer like a blazing star.
Her body slapped to the floorboards, crystals glinting from the crimson haemorrhaging from her severed neck.
Her head thud, thud, thudded somewhere on the driveway outside.
I gasped. Bile rose up my throat and then slammed back into my stomach so hard that I stumbled sideways and had to brace my hand against the wall to hold myself steady.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I’d seen him tear off a vampire’s head to protect me. But violence wasn’t something I was used to; or could ever get used to.
Caron glanced at the headless body as if she didn’t know her, as if she’d seen death a thousand times before. She looked back at Karson, her lip curled up into a sneer. “Well done. If you want to break the treaty and start a war between witches and vampires, that is a perfect way to go about it.”
“Need I remind you, you entered my house. I’m within my right to protect myself and my loved ones. She threatened me.” He steepled his fingers. “Now I suggest you both leave before I lose my patience.”
Dahlia’s hand hovered above a blade on her belt, her jaw tight, her blue eyes spearing straight through him.
Stepping to the side to avoid the blood slithering across the floor like spilled wine, she raised her chin, not an ounce of fear showing.
“There are some things that are fated and almost impossible to curb. You can’t stop what’s going to happen, and we can’t win if we are too busy fighting each other. You stupid fucking idiot.”
Only Dahlia would be brave—foolish—enough to call him names.
My breath snagged on the bile in my throat.
Karson dropped his gaze lazily to her. “I’m not going to ask you to leave again.”
A wolf’s grin tweaked her lips. “Fantastic, I will just head upstairs and talk to Amy, then.”
“Dahlia, enough,” Caron snapped, not taking her eyes off Karson. “You will be hearing from us again.” Her purple cloak fanned out as she spun, her heels thudding sharply on the floor as she stomped out.
Karson smirked at her back. “I’d like to say I look forward to it, but I don’t, so feel free not to bother.”
“Every moment she stays with you, you put her in more danger,” Dahlia threw over her shoulder as she followed Caron out.
The smile fell from his lips. I saw him flinch before his face quickly became a mask again. “I’d put more trust in my abilities than yours, Dahlia.”
Dahlia raised her hand, and using her powers she slammed the door shut behind her.
I sagged against the wall, my heart drumming in my chest. Dahlia was no match for Karson.
He was the only one who could protect me against Sarah.
Besides, I wanted to be with him. I was a witch, he was a vampire, and our species were arch enemies.
But try telling the organ in my chest that what I felt for him was wrong.
I’d been forced to live without him before Sarah attacked, and how empty I’d been—how broken.
The whole time we were apart, it was as if a barbed rope was wrapped around my heart, yanking, winding me right back.
A few protesting witches wouldn’t change the love I had for him.
It was unbreakable.
Even if he could never truly love someone like me.