Chapter 29
29
“ S ophie?” my father said when he opened the door.
His face lit up when he saw me, and I heard his rough exhale as he scanned me from head to toe. He was relieved I was alive and well, but the feeling wouldn’t last long because of what I’d come here to tell him.
“We need to talk,” I said, cringing at my unusually cold tone toward him.
The truth was, I didn’t want to be here, and I didn’t want to drag this out. Henry had known exactly what he was doing when he’d told me to talk to my father. His plan wouldn’t work, though. I wasn’t going to change my mind.
“Okay…” My father’s expression turned guarded in the early morning light. “Come in.” He opened the door wider.
I was immediately overcome with emotion when I stepped inside my childhood home. This place had been my safe haven for nineteen years. Even after my mother’s death, it was still my sanctuary. This house was where I’d been born, had taken my first steps, and had become the person I was today. Soon, I would become someone different. Some thing different.
Would I still be me? I hoped I would retain the values that my parents had instilled in me. If I didn’t, then it would all be for nothing. I hoped I didn’t lose my humanity when I turned. Henry hadn’t lost his. That was why I wanted him to turn me. I needed him to be my guiding light through the transformation, to remind me of my purpose and not let me succumb to the darkness that becoming a vampire would bring with it.
“Is everything alright?” my father asked, watching me with wary eyes.
I realized I stood unmoving, lost in thought, in the middle of the small living room.
“Yes,” I told him, but my voice shook. “It will be,” I assured him. “Father, war is coming.”
He didn’t say anything as he paled, grabbing the nearby chair for support. The rickety piece of furniture groaned under the pressure of how hard his fingers dug into the wood.
“Dark Witches know about the Tear,” I began, looking at my father’s weathered face. “They’ve known about it all along. Henry and I found it, but then I was snatched with the amulet and brought to the witches’ stronghold in the Black Forest. They tried to activate the Tear with my blood. Their plan was to use it to kill the vampire clans…”
My father’s face was becoming more ashen by the second. He looked as if he were going to be sick. I knew he was shocked to hear about what had happened to me, but I wished he would pull himself together. I couldn’t handle him being emotional right now. I’d turned my own emotions off before I got here. I knew that was the only way to get through this.
“Why did they think your blood would activate the Tear?” my father asked, his voice hoarse and his brows pinched in confusion.
There was no way to prepare him for what would come next. Just like there was no way to prepare him for what I would have to tell him before I left here today.
“Because Mother came from a line of White Witches,” I told him and waited.
His mouth opened in shock as his eyes grew distant. I wondered if the years of his life with my mother were replaying in his head. Hints at who she truly was had always been there. We’d missed them because we hadn’t been looking.
“But my blood didn’t work,” I continued. I needed to get this over with as quickly as possible. Being in this house and seeing my father was already affecting me, pulling at my heart. “But now that the Dark Witches know we don’t have a way to activate the amulet, they’re going to attack.”
“When?” my father asked, shuddering with trepidation.
“I don’t know when,” I told him. “But I need you to prepare to travel up north.”
“And you?” he asked low.
I thought he already knew the answer because shadows crept into his face. Impossible sadness filled his eyes as he stared at me—his only daughter and the only family he had left.
“I will stay and fight,” I told him, making sure my voice didn’t waver.
“Then I will stay and fight with you,” he said, defiantly lifting his chin.
I stared at him in shock. My father was not a fighter. I’d used to think I’d inherited that part of me from my mother, but perhaps it was from both of them. Perhaps he’d never embraced that part of him because he’d wanted to keep me safe. Now, it was my turn to keep him safe.
“No. I need you as far away from the border as possible.”
“Sophie—” he protested, scowling.
“I have a plan,” I interrupted.
He stilled, listening.
Silence ensued. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words as if saying them would make what would happen more real. What if I didn’t say them? It would be so easy to head up north with my father, leaving the fight to Henry and the vampire clans. But fleeing was not in my blood. My mother hadn’t left the fate of the people in someone else’s hands. She’d used the magic in her blood to create the Tear. The magic in my blood wasn’t enough to activate it, but I could still do my part by joining the fight.
“I’ve asked Henry to turn me.”
The words rang out in the otherwise quiet house. They had sounded louder, somehow, as if I’d shouted them.
My father looked like he’d stopped breathing. Slowly, he lowered himself into the chair he’d used for support and released a shuddering breath.
He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He sat unmoving for a few minutes without making a sound. When he finally pulled his hands away and lifted his head up, his eyes were glistening with tears.
“There is no talking about it, is there?” he rasped, looking at me.
His reaction brought tears to my eyes. He knew me well enough to know I’d made my decision. He didn’t demand I change my mind or take the choice away from me by forcing me to leave with him. He trusted me, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more.
“I’ve made my decision,” I told him. “I will become a vampire and help the clans fight the Dark Witches.”
My father rose to his feet then and approached me. He pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me for what felt like hours. I was falling apart on the inside, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. A few escaped anyway as I held onto my father, letting this moment sink into my heart so I could pull from it later when I needed something to remind me of who I was. All too soon, my father pulled away and wiped the tears from his face.
“When?” was all he asked.
“As soon as possible. Henry will be holding a meeting with the clan leaders after sunset…” I paused, realizing there was something else I needed to tell him. “Father…I know who killed her.”
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, his eyes searching mine. He didn’t look relieved to learn that I’d found my mother’s killer. I wondered if it didn’t really matter to him anymore. Not in light of everything I’d just revealed and everything that was to come.
It still mattered to me, though. Now, even more so because Stern hadn’t just taken my mother’s life. Rory had died at his hands and countless others because he was the one who’d been turning people into Ravagers.
“What are you going to do about it?” my father finally asked.
I didn’t hesitate before I replied, “I’m going to make him pay.”
After I left my childhood home, I stopped by Waylon’s place and told him about the impending war. I didn’t tell him about what I’d asked Henry to do. Emotionally drained from telling my father, I didn’t have it in me to go through that again.
When I returned to the Duval Estate, a strange feeling washed over me as I walked into the foyer of the mansion. My mind flashed back to the night of the Selection, which now seemed like ages ago. I’d been so hopeful then that I would find the Tear. Little had I known that finding it would not bring about our salvation but instead lead to our possible demise. My heart was heavy as I trudged to my room, where I undressed and took a shower, washing away the past two days, wishing I could wash away the feeling of failure that clung to my skin. Soon, I would have a chance to make it right, to redeem myself after not being able to do the one thing that I’d been born to do.
Sleep eluded me for hours as I lay in the dark room, thinking back on my life, trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong.
There is nothing wrong with you, Henry had said to me, but I couldn’t stop thinking that there was. Otherwise, I would have figured out a way to activate the amulet.
My brows pinched as I stared up at the ceiling. White Witches listened to the world around them, and sometimes it whispered things. What if I listened and paid attention? Would the world around me whisper and reveal a way to activate the Tear?
Willing my mind to quiet, I let my breathing slow as I lay there, listening. Nothing happened for several long minutes, and I almost gave up, feeling foolish, when I heard them. Hushed voices, hundreds of them at once. The sound was faint, coming and going, amplifying at times and going nearly silent at others. The voices were all around me, and I could feel them almost like a physical touch brushing against my skin.
“Or I’m losing my mind,” I grumbled, trying to discern what the voices were saying.
It was a cacophony of sounds, and I couldn’t make anything out. I wondered if it took years of practice or if I needed help from the other White Witches to be able to tune into the world around me. With a heavy sigh, I gave up on trying to figure out what the voices were saying, and they died out the second I stopped concentrating. Frustrated, I threw the covers off me and got out of bed.
I grabbed my robe and left the room, unsure of where I was going. I roamed the quiet house for a while without a destination in mind, alone with my frantic thoughts, until I found myself in front of Henry’s bedroom door.
Tightening the sash of the robe on my waist, I knocked and waited. A moment later, the Lord opened the door. He didn’t look tired like a human would, but I could tell he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He didn’t look surprised to see me, though, and let me in without saying a word.
Slowly, I walked in, closing the door behind me with a soft click. When I turned around, I found Henry on top of the covers on his bed, propped up against the pillows. A glass half-full of blood sat on the bedside table, and the Lord took a sip out of it before setting it back down. My gaze focused on the red liquid, and I had to try hard to suppress a shudder at the thought that soon, that would be my sustenance.
When Henry looked at me expectantly, I tore my gaze away from the glass and crossed the room before awkwardly perching on the side of the bed close to where he was sitting. He was barefoot and wore casual black pants and a wrinkled white shirt that exposed a part of his chest. He appeared relaxed, but I knew he was anything but, as his hard gaze fastened on mine.
“Did you speak with your father?” he asked, his features bathed in the soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp.
His tone was measured but guarded, as if he were preparing to be either relieved or disappointed by my response. He watched me intently.
“Yes,” I said, and Henry’s jaw tightened.
“And?” he prompted, looking wary.
“He knows what I’ve asked you to do,” was all I said.
My face must have betrayed that I hadn’t changed my mind because Henry exclaimed, “And he’s okay with it?!”
“He knows it’s my choice, and he accepts it,” I said calmly, refusing to let my emotions rise to the surface to mirror the Lord’s.
Henry made a frustrated sound as he dragged his fingers through his hair, looking away and to the side.
“So, please,” I breathed. “I need you to accept it, too.”
I didn’t realize I had reached up to touch his chest until my fingers brushed the cool skin where his shirt parted.
My hushed tone forced Henry’s gaze back to mine. Moving faster than my eyes could track, he clasped the back of my neck, sitting up straight in the bed and bringing our faces inches apart.
“Or I could compel you,” he whispered harshly. “Make you go up north with your father.”
Fear flared in my chest at his threat, but the feeling dimmed just as quickly as it had appeared.
“You wouldn’t do that to me,” I said, bringing my other hand to rest on the taut muscles of the arm that held me.
Seconds turned into minutes as we sat there, unmoving, staring at each other. I knew I’d won when Henry’s eyes shuttered, and he gave me a look full of anguish. He covered my hand on his chest with his own and rested his forehead against mine.
“I have done some terrible things in my life,” he said, swallowing thickly. “But turning you, by far, will be the worst.”
A shuddering breath left me as I had the urge to comfort him. I wished I could end his suffering by telling him he didn’t have to do it. But I couldn’t. I had to go through with it.
“I know what I am asking of you is a lot,” I whispered. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” Letting go of my neck, he pulled away and looked at me. His jaw clenched as if he wanted to argue but didn’t. “Thank you for respecting my decision,” I added.
I wanted him to say something to alleviate this pressure in my chest, but he didn’t. Instead, he pried my hand from his chest and lowered it to rest on the bed between us. My heart shattered as his expression hardened. He looked like he wanted me to leave, but I wasn’t ready to go just yet.
“How does it work?” I asked, clasping my hands in my lap to conceal their trembling. “What will you have to do to turn me?”
Henry bristled at my question and didn’t speak for a very long time.
“I will have to bring you to the brink of death,” he finally said, looking anywhere else in the room but at me. My heart thumped heavily in my chest. “I will have to drain you until only a few drops of your blood remain in your body and then give you my blood. Lots of it.”
He looked at me then, and his eyes were pleading.
Don’t make me do it, his expression said even though he didn’t utter a single word.
My heart was a bruised, battered mess at this point because of what I was asking him to do, but I didn’t acknowledge the look he was giving me. I just sat there, quietly waiting for him to continue.
“When your transformation is complete, you will not be yourself at first,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Too lost in the frenzy of bloodlust, much like a Ravager. Without proper training and guidance?—”
“You will be there to guide me,” I interjected.
“Still, there might not be enough time before the Dark Witches attack to get you ready to fight them,” he explained.
“Then we need to do it soon…tonight.”
“Tonight?!” His eyes widened in panic.
I didn’t feel panic, though, only resolve. Still, my legs were shaky as I rose from the bed and headed for the door.
“Tonight,” I said firmly and left Henry’s bedroom.