Chapter 33
33
I rapped my knuckles on the weathered-wood surface and waited. My father’s face was drawn and guarded when he opened the door to let me in. Two weeks had passed since I’d been turned. It had taken my father nearly all that time to be able to look me in the eye. Deep sorrow and regret were still etched into his wrinkled features every time he looked at me, but it was getting better. I wondered if every time he saw me, he felt like he had failed. I’d tried to comfort him once before by telling him the failure was not his but my own. I was the one who carried magic in my blood and hadn’t been able to use it to activate the amulet. Still, I knew what I’d chosen to become weighed heavily on him. I understood his struggle and wished I could take away his suffering, but I couldn’t. It would take time. My only hope was that we would get more time together to overcome that chasm that had opened up between us when I’d turned.
Tonight was the first time Henry had let me go visit my father without him by my side. He’d been too worried I’d succumb to bloodlust in the presence of my father without him there to stop me. He knew I would never forgive myself if I hurt him.
“I trust you to go by yourself,” the Lord had told me earlier. “You have been doing extremely well. You are in control.”
I felt in control—of my bloodlust and of my destiny. I finally felt like my life was my own. I felt stronger than I ever had before, both physically and mentally. It had taken me three days to overcome the bloodlust. It had sunk its claws into me when I’d first turned, but I had fought my way out, dragging myself from the abyss of endless hunger that had threatened to strip me of my humanity. The hunger was still there, of course, as it always would be for the rest of my life, but it was more manageable now, not as all-consuming as it had been at first.
Henry had been with me every step of the way, never leaving my side in the past two weeks. He’d been with me through it all. On the first night, that seemed endless as hunger lashed at my insides, making me feel like I was dying. And on the second night, when I’d begun gaining control over my insatiable thirst. My humanity had sparked back to life in tiny bursts of light, slowly banishing the shadows of bloodlust. Henry had noticed those faint glimpses and latched on to them, coaxing them out and making them burn brighter. He’d held me in his arms, stroking my hair as he talked to me about my past, my parents, and who I was, until the darkness of bloodlust had receded enough for me to gain purchase on my new reality.
By the third day, the pangs of unforgiving hunger had gone from tidal waves that crashed into me, sweeping me under, to a low, steady current of thirst in my blood. It had felt like I’d been able to take my first breath on that day as the red-hued shadows clouding my mind had lifted, and I felt more like myself again.
Henry was thoroughly impressed it had taken me only three days even though to me, it had felt like years. He’d told me it had taken him weeks to gain control when Vincent had turned him. Henry believed that I’d been able to find my way back to myself so quickly because I was part White Witch, but I knew that wasn’t the only reason. I owed most of it to him—he was the one who’d pulled me out of the thick, deep-crimson darkness of bloodlust.
Potent emotions swelled in my chest every time I thought about what Henry had done for me. I was forever grateful to him. Forever…I tried not to dwell on the fact that I would live for a very long time if my life didn’t get cut short in the upcoming war. I also tried not to imagine what it would be like decades later when everyone I knew was gone. When I did inadvertently picture those days, I wondered if Henry would still be by my side. More often than not, I found myself wishing he would be.
“Are you ready?” I asked my father, forcing myself out of my reverie.
“I think so.” He sighed, looking around the dark, empty house.
He’d stayed in New Haven way longer than I’d wanted him to, helping everyone else gather their belongings to head up north. He was leaving tonight, though, so the pressure on my chest would alleviate just a fraction because he would be far away from the border when the Dark Witches attacked.
“I hope this house still stands when I come back,” he said low, his voice hoarse.
“I hope so, too,” I told him.
I loved my childhood home even though I knew I could never live here again. I’d changed too much; everything had. I belonged at the Duval Estate now or somewhere in the wild like other predators, but not here, where phantom images of me as a little girl still roamed the small and dated rooms.
“Waylon decided to stay and fight,” my father informed me, and I nodded.
I hadn’t expected anything else from him. I hadn’t seen Waylon since the night I’d been turned, and I preferred it that way. Just like I didn’t belong in this house, I didn’t belong with him.
“What do you think they are waiting for?” my father asked, referring to the Dark Witches. “Why haven’t they attacked yet?”
“Henry thinks they might still be trying to find a way to activate the Tear to wipe out the vampire clans.”
“But they no longer have the Tear, right?” my father asked, even though he already knew the answer. I’d told him before that the White Witches had it.
“They don’t,” I reassured him. “We are not sure why the Dark Witches haven’t attacked, and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we will be prepared when they do. Which means you need to leave. Are you ready?”
When he nodded, I reached for his bags sitting by the door on the other side of the threshold. I lifted them as if they weighed nothing and loaded them onto the horse waiting patiently by the house, bathed in the bright, silvery light. The moon was full tonight, and I was glad for it—it would illuminate my father’s path as he journeyed out of New Haven. When my father locked the front door and approached his steed, I reached for him to help him into the saddle, but he waved me away.
“I am not helpless,” he grumbled, and I stifled a laugh. He wasn’t helpless, I knew that. I was just exceptionally strong now and always felt the need to use that strength to help others.
My father turned away from me and put his hands on the saddle to hoist himself up. He stopped and spun back around, pulling me into a tight embrace. I stiffened in his arms, knowing that the coolness of my skin was seeping through his clothes, but he held onto me, and eventually, I relaxed, hugging him back. My heart squeezed as emotion clogged my throat. He’d accepted my decision to turn into a vampire before, but now it felt like he was accepting me , the new me that I’d become.
Tears glistened in his eyes as he pulled away and mounted his horse.
“You truly are magnificent,” he told me, looking at me from atop his saddle. “You have vampire strength, but your heart is still human, and there is magic in your blood. You can do such great things in this world. I just hope to live long enough to see it.”
Speechless, I stared at him. He would live long enough to see it. I would do anything in my power to make it happen or die trying.
“Goodbye, Father,” I told him, my voice strained. “I love you.”
“Goodbye, Sophie. I love you, too,” he said and turned his horse to head up north.
Something my father had said stayed with me, nagging in the back of my mind as I quickly returned to the mansion.
“What if…” I murmured, walking into the house and heading straight for Henry’s study.
When I strolled in, a dagger whooshed, embedding itself in the doorframe not far from my head. A big smile broke across my face—Henry was training. He’d been training nearly every night in preparation for war, and most of the time, I’d joined him. I needed to hone my new supernatural abilities, and I liked training with Henry because it was fun and thrilling, especially after the first few times when he’d figured out he didn’t need to go easy on me.
“Can I join you?” I asked, walking deeper into the study.
My dark-blue tunic and black leggings weren’t the best fit for a training session, but I would make do. My unbound hair was also not ideal—I would have to make sure not to let Henry get ahold of it to use it against me.
“I don’t know, can you?” the Lord teased, one side of his mouth turning up.
I approached him and assumed a fighting position, making sure my legs were braced and my feet were planted shoulder width apart. With a smirk, Henry prowled around me, eyeing my stance. When he faced me again, I got momentarily distracted by his bare chest and torso. The chiseled muscles glistened with a fine sheen of sweat as my gaze glided over them all the way down to the band of his tight, black breeches. My throat dried as I forced my eyes back up to his face. I found him watching me, the black from his pupils slowly bleeding into the blue of his irises.
“Like what you see?” he asked low, his voice rough.
My muscles tensing, I ducked my chin and threw a punch instead of responding.
He blocked it with his forearm, chuckling under his breath. “Nice try.”
Trying to distract him, I stepped back with my right foot as if preparing to kick. As I’d hoped, he dropped his guard, and I used the opening to slam my fist into his stomach, grinning when I heard a soft grunt.
Henry went to throw a punch in retaliation, but I ducked out of the way, swiftly coming up to deliver a blow to his side. I wasn’t able to follow through because he grabbed my arm and spun me around, hauling me to his hard chest. With my back to him, I kicked, going for his shin, but he moved his leg out of the way. I threw my head back then, the crown connecting with his jaw. The move bought me time to twist out of his hold and run to the door, where the dagger was still embedded in the doorframe. Just as I pulled it out, a stir of air at my back let me know Henry was right behind me. I whirled on him, thrusting the dagger into his chest. Our gazes locked as my lips curled into a savage smile. The blade was iron, not wood, so I knew it wouldn’t hurt him. Or rather, it wouldn’t hurt him much .
His eyes widened as an odd look settled into his features. It was shock mixed with awe and a whole lot of hunger. I’d been on the receiving end of that look a few times in the past two weeks, and it excited me more than I was willing to admit. Slowly, Henry looked down at the dagger protruding from his chest. He stared at it for a moment before his lashes swept back up. His pupils were more dilated now, making his eyes more black than blue.
“You better run,” he growled.
My pulse thrummed as I spun and ran out of the study. I started for the front door but skidded to a stop when Henry appeared right in front of me. He shook his head “no”, one side of his mouth turning up. His blue-black eyes flashed, daring and challenging, as if he couldn’t wait to see what I would do next.
I whirled to the right, but he jumped to block me, so I darted to the left instead. He caught my elbow before I could get away, but I twisted under his arm, slipping out of his hold. I then moved behind him, dipping low and kicking out. When I swept his legs out from under him, he threw his hands out to stop the fall, cursing under his breath.
I took off for the stairs but didn’t make it far before an arm came around my waist, hauling me back against a hard wall of muscle. Henry’s breath stirred the wisps of hair at my temple a moment before he spun me around, slamming me into the stone floor by the grand staircase. He pinned my arms by my sides and pressed in, his body caging mine.
I knew he’d only used a fraction of his strength when he’d brought me down because I wasn’t hurt. There was barely a crack in the stone where my head had hit instead of a me-shaped hole in the floor several inches deep. A growl of irritation tore from me because he’d held back. If the past two weeks had proven anything, it was that I was more than capable of taking everything the Lord could throw at me. As a new vampire, I wasn’t a match for him yet, but it was only a matter of time; he’d said so himself.
“You held back,” I bit out, pushing up against him, trying to throw him off me, but he didn’t budge.
“You stabbed me,” he growled, his face inches away from mine. The deep sound rumbled through me, all the way to the tips of my toes.
“I knew you could take it,” I countered, but my gaze still dropped to his chest to make sure the wound I’d inflicted was already closing.
“I have a feeling you’d wanted to do that for a while,” Henry ground out above me.
When I looked up, his lips stretched into a teasing smile, taunting me. The sight made my heart skip a beat as I stared up at him, lost in the perfect planes and angles of his face.
“Maybe,” I breathed, dragging my fangs over my bottom lip.
Henry’s smile faded as his gaze dropped and fastened on my mouth. His features became sharper as he tilted his head, sending a tumble of dark locks over his forehead. He was on me, his body close to flush with mine, and I could feel him— all of him. My lips parted as intense lust rolled through me, sending hot shivers over my skin. Henry’s lips parted, too, revealing the hints of his fangs as he lifted his gaze back to mine. My breath caught at what I saw in his eyes. They were nearly black with a hunger that ignited my blood.
Eyes still on me, Henry lifted his hand to my face and brushed his fingertips over the curve of cheek, making my skin hum from the contact. His lashes swept down as his gaze returned to my lips, and he leaned in. Tensing with anticipation, I sucked in a sharp breath as he lowered his head, his mouth hovering over mine. He was going to kiss me. I’d never forgotten how his lips had felt on mine weeks ago, but this kiss would be different. I hadn’t been myself back then, still under the effects of Henry’s blood after he’d saved me. But I was myself now, and I wanted this. I wanted him.