Chapter 13
13
“ H e should be feeding from you,” Isabelle snapped when we loaded into the carriage. “I know about your little arrangement, and I disapprove of it,” she seethed.
“You should have been there to help him fight the witches,” I snapped back, hoping to shut her up. I was too shaken up and tired for this conversation.
Her upper lip curled in a snarl, but she didn’t say anything else before turning to stare out the window.
We were quiet all the way to the mansion, the only sound coming from the carriage wheels rolling over cobblestones. Folding my trembling hands in my lap, I thought about what had transpired at the border. What I’d experienced tonight had been eye-opening. Eye-opening and utterly terrifying. I’d been so focused on vampires since my mother’s death that Dark Witches had faded into the background. I knew they were out there, in the Black Forest and beyond, but I’d considered vampires the real enemy. Tonight had changed my way of thinking. I was now painfully aware of the real threat Dark Witches posed. I’d almost died…
Henry had fought for us tonight, for the people of New Haven. For me and for Waylon. The realization made me uneasy as I struggled to reconcile my conflicting emotions about the Lord. I realized I didn’t need to. Vampires were still an enemy, and Henry was no exception. His wild behavior earlier had demonstrated that his true monstrous nature dwelled just below the surface, always on the verge of breaking free to deliver misery to those around him. After tonight, I had a better grasp on the monstrosity of the Dark Witches as well, having witnessed it up close. I doubted I would ever forget tonight. Its horrors would haunt my dreams just like the night of my mother’s death.
When the carriage pulled up to the mansion, I peered out the window, wondering if Henry was inside and had already fed. I hoped he’d used the blood stored in the cellar. I wasn’t sure letting him stalk into the night earlier had been a good idea. He’d seemed to be more in control, but I still felt uneasy. I also wondered how badly he was hurt. My brows knitted when the thought crossed my mind, and I shook my head, swallowing thickly. There were several reasons why I didn’t need to wonder about that. Henry was a vampire. He could sustain a lot more injuries than a mere human. I also didn’t need to wonder if he was hurt because I didn’t need to care. I couldn’t. Not when I’d been actively searching for the amulet that would destroy him and his kind.
As soon as the carriage stopped, Isabelle swept out of it, too fast for me to track her movements. I exited the carriage as well and headed straight for the kitchen once I was inside the house.
Wren was there eating dinner, and his forehead creased when he took me in.
“Sophie, are you okay?” he asked, his pale-blue eyes searching my face.
I gave a small shake of my head as I opened the kitchen cabinet, rooting around it until I found the white medicine box. I was about to take a shower and would need to change the bandage on my arm. I doubted Henry would help me with that tonight.
“What happened?” Wren asked.
“I went to the border with Henry,” I said with a heavy sigh, retrieving the medicine box from the cabinet and turning to face him.
“He took you to the border?” Wren sounded dismayed.
“Yes, and there was an attack,” I said with a shuddering breath.
The medicine box rattled in my trembling hands, so I sat it on the kitchen table, not sure how long this conversation would last.
“I see,” Wren said, his face growing ashen. “You look pretty shaken up.”
“I am,” I admitted. “I didn’t realize Dark Witches were still such a threat.”
Wren’s eyes widened, and he looked at me as if I were a crazy person.
“You didn’t think they were a threat?” he asked, his face contorting in what appeared to be barely contained rage. It was clear my words had struck a nerve.
“What happened to you?” I asked low, disturbed by his reaction.
“Something terrible,” Wren whispered.
His eyes became glossy and unfocused as he stared into the space before him. I could tell he wasn’t seeing the brightly lit kitchen. He was lost in memories. Terrible memories, judging by his taut features. Several seconds passed before Wren blinked a few times and refocused on me.
“But I survived,” he said. “Because I was prepared to do anything to survive. So, tell me, Sophie. What are you prepared to do to find the Tear?”
The last sentence had been spoken barely above a whisper, and my lips parted as I sucked in a sharp breath. After what I’d seen tonight, I would do anything to find the amulet. I wasn’t sure who was worse, vampires or Dark Witches, and it truly didn’t matter. If I had the Tear, I could obliterate them all. I needed to search Henry’s bedroom. I didn’t care what I had to do. He’d been injured earlier. His nature drove him to feed. Perhaps tonight, he wouldn’t turn me down.
“Whatever it takes,” I told Wren, grabbing the medicine box off the table before leaving the kitchen.
Half an hour later, I found myself staring at Henry’s bedroom door. I felt foolish. What exactly was my plan? Even if I was able to seduce the Lord, then what? Wait until he was asleep and search his bedroom? He could hear a pin drop with his supernatural hearing, and he didn’t strike me as someone who was a heavy sleeper. On the contrary, I doubted he was ever not on high alert.
With a soft sigh, I hung my head, giving up on the idea. I turned to leave, but that was when Henry opened the door, staring at me from inside the darkness of his room.
“Sophie? What are you doing here?” he asked, his brows knitting.
He smelled of soap, and his damp hair was slicked away from his face. His clean white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, exposing part of his chest where a gnarly looking wound was still healing.
“I…” I hesitated, self-consciously wrapping my silk robe around my thin, nearly translucent nightgown. I’d come here to seduce the Lord and had dressed for the occasion. Now, I felt overexposed.
Henry’s gaze flickered over me before landing on my forearm.
“Do you need help changing your bandage?” His eyes lifted to mine.
“No,” I replied. “I just came to check on you.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I realized I wasn’t exactly lying. I’d wanted to make sure he was okay.
The Lord was clearly taken aback and stood frozen in the doorway for a few seconds, staring at me.
“Can I come in?” I asked shakily, unsure of what I was doing.
With a nod, he let me in, closing the door behind me.
The room was dark and quiet when I walked in, the only light coming from the lit fireplace.
“Have a seat.” Henry gestured to the chair I’d used in the past when he’d changed my bandages.
He walked to the other chair, and I noticed he was barefoot, his loose black pants dragging slightly on the floor. I lowered myself into the chair and watched the Lord do the same. He then leaned over one side of his chair and picked up a short, wide glass full of deep red liquid. The coppery smell I could pick up on told me it was blood. Relief washed over me as I realized Henry must have come straight here from the border to drink some of the blood from the cellar instead of finding a human to sink his fangs into in a dark alley.
The Lord took a few sips from the glass before turning to look at me.
“I am sorry about how I acted earlier,” he said, his lips tinged with red. His eyes were back to stormy blue, and his features were relaxed. “Fighting the witches took a lot out of me. I was not myself.”
I wasn’t sure that was entirely true. Perhaps he’d been more himself then—when the monster that was usually contained had been out.
“Apology accepted,” I told him. I was not about to excuse his behavior and tell him he didn’t need to apologize.
Henry nodded and took another sip of the blood.
“Are you okay?” he asked, watching me from above the rim of his glass. “I know Dark Witches can be terrifying, especially if you have never encountered them before.”
“They were terrifying,” I agreed. “I’m sure I will have nightmares for many nights to come.”
“I wish I hadn’t brought you with me,” Henry confessed with a heavy sigh, looking regretful. “The attacks have been rare during the last few months. I did not expect one tonight.”
“I’m glad you took me with you,” I told him, and I meant it. Like the Vassal Ball, fighting the witches tonight had enflamed my heart and fueled my resolve to find Josephine’s Tear. I didn’t regret going with Henry to the border. “Isabelle should have been there,” I pointed out, frowning.
Henry nodded in agreement.
“Her sense of self-preservation sometimes outweighs her sense of loyalty,” he explained before his eyes settled on me. “Your sense of self-preservation, however, appears to be non-existent. Seriously, what were you thinking? I told you to run and hide.”
“I was thinking that I couldn’t run and hide when people around me were dying.” I met his deep blue gaze.
A look of admiration flickered across his face before his features hardened.
“You cannot save everyone,” he said with a heavy sigh. Little did he know I planned to do just that. “I speak from experience.”
I opened my mouth to ask about that experience but then closed it. Asking about that felt like crossing into a very personal territory, and I didn’t need to know Henry on that level.
We sat in silence for a few minutes as a myriad of other questions danced on the tip of my tongue. The Lord was almost two hundred years old and had a wealth of knowledge I was dying to tap into.
“Can you tell me about the Red War?” I finally asked, giving in to my curiosity.
Henry’s fingers tightened around the glass, and I thought he would deny my request.
To my surprise, he opened his mouth and said, “It was carnage.” Staring with unseeing eyes at the flickering fire, he continued, “What you saw tonight on the border was nothing in comparison. The battle of New Haven was one of the worst nights of my life. I lost my mother and my brother in that battle.”
My brows lifted in shock.
“You mean Rosalind and Gerard Duval? I knew they perished during the War, but I didn’t realize it was during the battle of New Haven. They are not depicted in any of the paintings I’ve seen.”
“That is because our history does little to honor the fallen,” Henry said bitterly.
I was inclined to agree. White Witches had fought alongside the humans and the clans in the War. Yet, they were hardly ever mentioned in the stories. Perhaps it was because their entire population had been eradicated, and no one was left to carry on their legacy. Still, it made me sad they had been erased from existence and forgotten.
“Can you tell me about the White Witches?” I asked the Lord.
A little smile lit up his face as he seemed to be lost in a memory.
“They were good people,” he finally said.
“They couldn’t have been that good since they were the ones who got corrupted by the Dark god and turned into Dark Witches,” I pointed out.
Our history did mention that. At first, there had only been White Witches, but the Dark god, Xanthus, had poisoned their hearts with promises of infinite power that could only be achieved through black magic. One by one, they had surrendered their souls to him, turning into the pale, wraith-looking beings that haunted our nightmares and stole humans for sacrifices. In order to fully resurrect Xanthus and unleash an era of pain and suffering, the Dark Witches needed a mass sacrifice of countless human souls. To achieve that, they had set off the Red War one hundred years ago. The vampires had come to our aid and had been able to prevail in the War, but not before the remaining White Witches had been slaughtered or turned dark.
The Lord’s smile faded.
“The downfall of a few of them does not make them all evil.”
I had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about White Witches but also his kind. He confirmed as much when he gave me a pointed look I chose to ignore.
“What were they like?” I asked, propping my elbows on my knees and cupping my face with my hands.
“They had a profound connection to the world around them and drew their power from it. Very strong magic wielders.”
“Not strong enough…” I trailed off.
They hadn’t been strong enough to survive the Red War.
Shadows crept into Henry’s features.
“I tried to save them, but I couldn’t.”
“Why do you think it’s your responsibility to save everyone?” I wondered aloud.
“I could ask you the same thing.” His gaze was fastened on mine. “What drives a nineteen-year-old girl to patrol the streets at night and help the border guards to fight off a witch attack?”
My brows pinched as I pondered his question. I’d never asked myself that before. It felt natural to do those things, like breathing. Never once had I hesitated before a patrol, just like I hadn’t hesitated before I’d joined the guards who’d been fighting the witch. It had felt right.
“I think…” Emotions clogged my throat before I continued, “I think I do those things because I couldn’t save my mother.”
The moment the words were out, I realized it was the first time I’d admitted that, even to myself.
The Lord’s eyes softened as he stared at me.
“It was not your responsibility to save her,” he said low. “It was mine. Dark Witches took her, and I am the one entrusted with protecting the people of New Haven.”
My mouth opened slightly at his words. I doubted the other clan vampires felt the same way. Take Isabelle, for example. It seemed she wanted all the perks of being our protector without any responsibilities that came with the title. Henry, on the other hand, seemed to take his role of a protector seriously. He seemed almost devoted to the cause.
“Why do you do it?” I asked, my gaze sweeping over his features. “The other vampires don’t seem to be that invested in the people’s safety.”
Henry’s eyes filled with impossible sadness as he swallowed thickly.
“Because I am trying to atone for all the lives I have taken.”
I sat frozen for a moment as his words hung between us in the tense silence. The crackling fire was the only sound in the room.
“You’ve taken many lives?” I asked as a cold feeling crept into my chest.
The Lord looked tormented by his admission, the feeling of misery emanating from him and sweeping me under. I couldn’t relate to him because I’d never taken innocent lives, but I imagined it was a heavy burden to carry.
Henry was quiet for several long minutes.
Just when I thought he wasn’t going to respond, he said, “When a vampire is first turned, the bloodlust is nearly impossible to control. I had Vincent by my side to guide me through it, but he couldn’t always be there to stop me when the hunger struck.”
I sat there, feeling like I should say something, but words wouldn’t come. What could I say? I’m sorry that happened to you? I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for him. I only felt sorry for his victims.
Henry cleared his throat and drained his glass before rising to his feet.
“I need more blood, and you need to get some rest,” he said, turning to me.
I also rose to my feet, my robe parting to expose my flimsy nightgown. The Lord stilled as his rapidly darkening eyes roamed every inch of my body.
This was my chance.
You can feed from me, the words were on the tip of my tongue.
Yet, I couldn’t force them out. I felt…conflicted like I had earlier. A part of me knew that if he fed from me tonight, I would enjoy it. Just like I would enjoy what might come after the feeding. My eyes widened at the thought, and I took an involuntary step back but couldn’t suppress a wave of shivers that erupted over my skin. Henry’s nostrils flared as his eyes, now nearly black, returned to my face.
“What do you want, Sophie?” he whispered roughly, his gaze ensnaring mine.
“Nothing,” I whispered back. The words came out shaky and unsure. “Nothing,” I repeated louder, scowling. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” I said and fled his bedroom like a coward.