Chapter 14
14
“ C oward,” I murmured into my teacup, sitting in the kitchen the following night.
“What?” Rory asked, having overheard me when she’d walked in.
She was holding a wicker basket full of fresh linens at her hip. Her simple topknot had all but unraveled, and she looked flustered.
“Rory!” I heard Ezra call from the dining room.
“Coming!” she yelled back. “I swear he always needs my help when he’s cleaning,” she sighed.
I smirked, thinking about their sibling dynamic. Ezra was older than Rory, but she seemed more mature, always taking care of her brother. She also took it upon herself to ensure the Duval household ran smoothly. I wasn’t sure if she enjoyed the responsibility or did it because she felt indebted to Henry. Either way, from the interactions that I’d witnessed, it was clear the Lord cared about Rory and Ezra and treated them well.
“I’ll be back,” Rory assured me as she sat the linen basket on the table before me and hurried out of the kitchen.
I lifted my eyes from the teacup and froze. Henry’s bedroom key sat on top of the linens, gleaming in the glow of the lamp. My breath hitched as my eyes flicked in the direction of the dining room, where I could hear Rory and Ezra moving around. I had to act fast. Swiftly rising to my feet, I snatched the key and all but ran out of the kitchen, the skirt of my teal dress snapping around the heels of my shoes. When I got to the foyer and found it empty, I set off into a sprint, running to the grand staircase and up the wide stone steps. I didn’t stop running until I skidded to a halt before Henry’s bedroom door.
Breathing shallowly, I lifted the key with shaking hands but froze with it halfway to the keyhole. It was possible that Henry was inside, but I doubted he would give Rory the key if he was in his room. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I unlocked the door and paused on the threshold, listening. When all that greeted me was silence, I walked inside and quickly closed the door behind me. The fire was out, but the lamps were on, their light reflecting off the few pieces of furniture. Quickly throwing the chain with the key around my neck, I hurried over to the chest and began rummaging through Henry’s clothes stored there. When my search rendered no results, I walked over to the tall dresser. Yanking open the top drawer that was at my eye level, I lifted on my tiptoes to peer inside.
“What are you doing in my room?” came Henry’s deep voice from behind me.
All color drained from my face, and I froze for a moment before quietly closing the drawer and lowering down to the balls of my feet. Slowly, I turned around and found the Lord watching me with narrowed eyes. My gaze flicked to the closed door behind him as I tried to gauge if I could make an escape. Quickly giving up on the idea, I refocused on Henry.
“I was just looking for you,” I lied, my voice unsteady.
He smirked, prowling toward me. I took a tiny step back, running into the dresser.
The Lord didn’t say anything as his gaze lowered to his bedroom key resting on my chest. I swallowed and held my breath as he slowly reached for it. He carefully untangled his necklace from the one holding the locket with the picture of my mother and pulled the thin chain up and over my head. After he hung it around his neck, his gaze returned to mine. He leaned in closer, staring into my eyes. What was he doing? Was he going to kiss me? Panic flared in my chest with a hint of something else I refused to acknowledge.
“What are you doing in my room?” Henry asked low.
“I wanted to see you,” I lied again.
He backed away a few inches, his brow furrowing.
“How are you doing this?” he asked, confused.
“Doing what?” Now, I was confused.
“Resisting the compulsion?”
“The what?”
In the blink of an eye, he was even closer, his face mere inches from mine. The coolness radiating from his body chilled my skin as our gazes locked.
His eyes transfixed me, the pupil expanding and contracting as he said, “Tell me the truth. What are you doing in my room?”
“I already told you,” I said, the words sluggish and difficult to get out.
“The truth, Sophie!” he shouted or maybe whispered. I wasn’t sure as I got lost in his eyes, which seemed bottomless. Suddenly, I needed to tell him the truth. I had to.
“I was looking for Josephine’s Tear.”
With a gasp, I clamped my hand over my mouth. Why had I just told him that?
“What’s Josephine’s Tear?” Henry asked, his voice as soft as velvet, coaxing the truth out of me.
“It’s an amulet—” The words began spilling out of me before I could think twice about what I was saying. No! Fight it! “—that can destroy the Dark Witches.”
My throat burned from the partial lie I’d just told, and I clenched my jaw to make sure no more words got out against my will.
Henry’s eyes widened in shock as he abruptly backed away. The spell he’d had on me was broken; I could feel it.
“What did you do to me?!” I seethed, glaring at him.
“I used compulsion to make you tell me the truth.”
“You forced the truth out of me!” I shouted, shoving at his hard chest. He didn’t move an inch; it was like pushing at a wall. “I can’t believe you did that!”
“Stop,” he ordered, clasping my shoulders to hold me in place.
He ducked his chin and looked into my eyes.
“Don’t!” I jerked my head to the side.
“I am not trying to compel you,” he bit out, exasperated. “Just tell me about the amulet. Can it really destroy the Dark Witches?”
He sounded doubtful but hopeful as if he really wanted to believe something but was too afraid to. His reaction surprised me and doused some of the anger. Slowly, I turned back to face him.
“Yes, it can destroy the Dark Witches,” I said, tilting my head up to look at him.
“Why were you looking for it in my room?” Henry asked, his brows knitting.
“Do you not have it?” I asked low, even though I already knew the answer. The Lord had been genuinely shocked to learn about the Tear, or at least he’d appeared to be. My heart sank with disappointment.
“No, I don’t have it,” he said. “But I will help you find it.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, searching his face.
“If Dark Witches are destroyed, humans will no longer need the vampire clans,” he explained quietly. “We can slink back into the shadows where we belong. Humans deserve to have their world to themselves.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief. He sounded sincere, but I couldn’t compel him to tell me the truth, so I had no way of knowing if he was lying. Granted, I hadn’t told him the truth either, at least not the whole truth. In the end, vampires wouldn’t slink back into the shadows because they would be destroyed together with the Dark Witches.
Henry had said he would help me find the Tear, but could I really trust him? I had no choice, I realized. He knew about the amulet now, and if he wasn’t helping me look for it, then he would search for it on his own. I needed him by my side so I could know what he was doing.
“Okay,” I said calmly.
“Okay.” He slowly let go of me and lowered his hands by his sides. “Tell me what you know.”
“It isn’t much.” I gave a small shake of my head. “When my mother died, I found a note from her with a sketch of an amulet. She called it Josephine’s Tear and said it could destroy the Dark Witches. She scribbled “Vincent Duval” on the paper.”
“Is that it?” Henry asked, eyeing me like he didn’t quite believe I didn’t have more information.
I hadn’t told him about the other clue— “power of three”—deciding to keep it to myself.
“That’s it.”
“So, you came back as a Candidate again this year to gain access to the estate,” Henry surmised, and I nodded.
“Do you have any idea why my mother wrote Vincent’s name on the note about the amulet?”
“I am not sure,” Henry replied, pondering my question. “Eloise was Vincent’s vassal for a year when she turned eighteen. I know they kept in touch…” he trailed off as his eyes widened at my reaction to his words. “You didn’t know?”
Disbelief surged through me, and I felt as if the ground had shifted under my feet.
My mother had been Vincent’s vassal?
“You’re lying,” I said through my teeth.
“Why would I lie about that? Eloise was Vincent’s vassal, and he cared about her.”
I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, my mind racing. Henry didn’t have a reason to lie, and his claim was something I could easily confirm. My eyes fluttered closed as I took a deep breath to regain my composure. When I opened them, the look on Henry’s face was one of compassion.
“When you say Vincent cared about her and they kept in touch, you don’t mean…?” I forced myself to ask the question even though I wasn’t prepared to hear the answer.
“No,” Henry said, his tone final. “Eloise had a special place in Vincent’s heart, but she was in love and happy with your father.”
A breath of relief left me as I leaned against the dresser, my shoulders sagging.
“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me,” I murmured. My chest was tight with disappointment. “I thought we told each other everything,” I added as if to myself. “Obviously, I was mistaken. She also didn’t tell me about the amulet.”
“She was probably just trying to protect you. Vincent didn’t tell me about the amulet, either. If he even knew about it,” Henry said, his face taking on a contemplative look as he was trying to process all the information. “He probably did know about it and was helping your mother search for it,” he concluded before meeting my gaze again. “The question is, did they ever find it, and if they did, what happened to it? Perhaps Dark Witches took it when they took Eloise. That would explain why Vincent went to the Dark Witches after they had taken her. He wanted to try and bring her and the amulet back.”
My heart sank at his words as a lump rose in my throat. Vincent had disappeared right around my mother’s death…
“He went to the Dark Witches? To try and rescue her?” I asked, my voice strained.
“Yes,” Henry replied.
His gaze latched on to mine as he waited for what I would say next. I knew I didn’t have to tell him the truth, but something urged me to. He deserved to know.
“Dark Witches didn’t take my mother,” I admitted, barely above a whisper.
“What?” Henry asked just as quietly.
I swallowed to relieve my dry throat, averting my gaze.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I confessed, “My father and I lied and said she was taken. The truth is…a vampire killed her.”
For a few moments, I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me as silence stretched between us. Slowly, I lifted my gaze, but before I could look at him, a fist slammed into the dresser, inches away from my face, splintering the dark wood. I jerked my head to the side and winced, squeezing my eyes shut for a brief second before opening them again. I knew Henry had used only a fraction of his strength when he’d punched the dresser. Otherwise, the piece of furniture would have been demolished.
“So, Vincent went to the Dark Witches and died for nothing?” Henry growled, his cool breath stirring the fine hairs on my temple.
I whipped my head to look at him, refusing to cower before him, but my eyes pricked with tears.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to get out, but my voice shook.
Vincent had been a vampire, but I still felt regret for lying about my mother’s death. When my father and I had lied, we’d sentenced the head of the Duval clan to sure death at the hands of the Dark Witches.
When I met Henry’s blue eyes, they were full of anguish, leaving no doubt in my mind that he’d truly loved Vincent. His nostrils flared as he bared his fangs in a snarl. For a brief moment, I thought he might go for my throat, but instead, he hit the dresser again, rattling the drawers, and promptly stepped away, turning his back to me and running his hands through his hair.
A shuddering exhale left him as I watched the taut muscle of his back move and shift under his shirt. His shoulders slumped as he hung his head. He looked so very human at that moment that I had to fight the urge to comfort him. My hand lifted to reach for him, but I brought it down, my fingers curling into a fist at my side.
“Why did you lie?” Henry suddenly asked softly. His menacing tone told me that if I didn’t have a good enough reason, I wouldn’t leave this room alive.
“We didn’t think anyone would believe us if we’d told the truth. That a vampire killed her,” I explained quickly. “We hadn’t yet known about Ravagers then.”
Henry’s head lifted, and he looked at me over his shoulder.
“Was it a Ravager?” he asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “It had to be a vampire from one of the clans.”
“What makes you say that?” Henry faced me fully then, his brow furrowed.
I wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d gotten over his rage that quickly. It seemed he’d pushed it aside for now, and I had no doubt he would unleash it on me later.
“I was the one who found her,” I said, my gaze growing distant as my mind flashed back to that night. “I returned home before my father,” I continued as an icy chill crept into my chest. I knew my mind was just playing tricks on me, but I swore I could smell the birthday cake my mother had made and had left sitting on the kitchen table. “I walked into my mother’s study and,” I paused, swallowing thickly, “and saw them. She was already dead. He held her in his arms…”
I blinked rapidly and met Henry’s gaze. Only then did I realize that my cheeks were wet with tears.
Henry’s eyes softened a fraction, and I thought I saw his hand twitch as if he wanted to reach for me.
He must have thought better of it because his eyes became hard again as he asked, “Did you see who killed her?”
“No,” I replied, quickly wiping away my tears. “I’m not sure if I blocked it from my mind, but all I remember are eyes so dark they were like oily pools of blackness. But I don’t think it was a Ravager. That vampire was in control, and?—”
“Not driven by bloodlust like a Ravager,” Henry finished for me, and I nodded.
He dragged a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.
“So, we really have nothing to help us find the killer…”
“I wish I could remember more?—”
“That was a traumatic experience,” Henry cut me off. “It’s possible you were compelled. Don’t blame yourself for not remembering.”
I did blame myself as tears threatened again. I felt like a failure. I’d really hoped to find the Tear or another clue on the estate, and now I didn’t know where to go from here.
“I’d like to see my father,” I said, swallowing hard and lifting my eyes to the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.
Henry didn’t immediately respond, but I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and accusing.
Finally, he sighed and said, “Okay, but I’m coming with you.”