42. Amber
“Little Island is farfrom the subway, and it’s on the other side of the highway,” Cassandra says after we get into the cab and start toward our destination. “The shadow souls will have to cross the highway to get to us. Hopefully the cars driving on it will keep them at bay for long enough for us to get this done.”
“Hopefully,” I agree.
“This is a hostage situation, so we’ll have to bargain with Lucas for Abigail and Yannick’s lives,” she continues, as if she’s barely aware of me here with her at all. “We have to be strategic. I have experience with this type of scenario, so you’re going to let me take charge. No impulsive moves. Their lives depend on it. Understood?”
She pauses, giving me a second to soak it in.
“Understood,” I promise.
“Good.”
She barely speaks a word after that.
I stay quiet as well, watching the city pass by as we make our way west, toward the Hudson River.
Finally, we reach Little Island.
The island itself is an architectural marvel. Its white, tulip-like pillars elevate it above the water, one end higher than the other, creating an illusion of a floating oasis. The entire thing is about the size of a soccer field, but with lots of hills and winding paths instead of being flat.
The driver stops at the start of the pier, and Cassandra shoves a wad of cash to him through the small opening in the plastic barrier.
“Wait here,” she tells him. “I have more where that came from. We’ll be back soon.”
He glances around in confusion. “There’s nowhere to park…”
“Then circle around until you see us come back out.”
It’s a command—not a question—and he simply nods in agreement.
Cassandra reaches for the handle and looks back to me. “Ready?”
No, I think, memories of the attack at Central Park rushing through my mind. Of the horde of shadow souls who tracked me down, drawn toward me simply for existing.
They’ll sense me the moment I step out of this cab. They might hesitate to cross the highway to get to me, but they’ll still sense me.
“Yes,” I say instead, hoping that by speaking the word, it’ll become true.
My magic warms inside me, as if reminding me that despite the poison swirling through my veins, there’s still hope.
Without another word, Cassandra swings the door open and steps out into the night.
Heart pounding, I follow suit, hyper aware of everything around me. There’s no one else walking around here this time of night. No sign of any shadow souls, either.
Silently, we walk the flat, wooden bridge that leads into the island. It’s closed for the night, but that doesn’t stop us from jumping the gate.
Walking under the huge concrete arch into the island is like entering a cave that leads to another world. Straight ahead, paths and staircases lead up and around the hill, winding through lush gardens and trees. There’s no pattern to their locations and directions—the whole thing is so incredibly random.
Quickly upon entering, there’s a large, flat gathering space to the right. It’s the type of space where families and couples would gather during the day, getting snacks and drinks from the food trucks to enjoy at the chairs and tables scattered about.
Now, it’s deserted.
There are no signs of Lucas, Abigail, and Yannick anywhere.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I whisper, although it somehow manages to sound loud in the stillness of the empty park.
“I’m sure.” She scans the area, hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword sheathed by her side. “Follow me. And be quiet.”
I nod in understanding and pull one of my daggers out of my boot.
I leave my other hand free in case I need to use my magic. I have to conserve it, but at least it’s there—for now—if I truly need it.
Then, we move like shadows through the winding paths and steps of Little Island. Cassandra leads with a silent, commanding presence, her eyes scanning the environment with a predator’s focus. I trail behind her, my senses heightened, every rustle in the bushes making my heart race.
The gardens, paths, and stairs seem designed to disorient. So, we stick to the shadows, avoiding the open spaces where the light of the crescent moon shines overhead.
The moon isn’t the source of my magic. That’s Ruby’s domain. However, the moon doesn’t produce its own light. Its light is a reflection of the sun.
And so, I focus on soaking in the little light from it that I can, hoping it can fuel my magic at least a tiny bit.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much of anything.
Maybe it would work for a full moon. But with this sliver of crescent, I barely feel a thing.
Time to refocus on following Cassandra, who’s heading to the back of the island. I know from my first time here that we’re almost to the sunken, wooden amphitheater, which backs up to the river.
As we approach, the sound of distant voices carries to us, muffled but unmistakable.
We share a glance, a silent agreement.
This is it.
I tighten my grip on my dagger, and we move closer, as quietly as possible, using the cover of the landscaping to approach unseen.
As we reach a vantage point, Lucas comes into clear view. He’s standing center stage, at the bottom of the theater, like he’s ready to perform a show.
My heart drops at the sight of Abigail and Yannick, both unconscious, tied to chairs near him. Two figures stand guard beside them, rigid and alert. Even from this distance, the distinctive marks of the downtown vampires are visible on their wrists—the broken shackles.
Abigail starts to stir.
The moment she does, the vampire next to her leans down, presses his mouth to her neck, and drinks.
She goes limp again.
He stops drinking, returning to his stance.
It’s immediately obvious what’s happening here. Lucas’s men are keeping Abigail and Yannick unconscious. Draining them enough each time they start to heal so that they’re weak, but not dead.
It’s not ideal.
But at least they’re alive.
Cassandra’s hand tightens around her sword, her body coiled like a spring. Then, she gives me a nod, and we emerge from our hiding spot, making our presence known.
Lucas’s head snaps in our direction, and a wide, unsettling grin spreads across his face.
“So, you decided to show up, after all,” he says. “Why don’t you put down your weapons and join the party?”
“We’ll put our weapons down when you put down yours,” Cassandra says, although she’s focused on the vampires standing over Abigail and Yannick’s unconscious bodies.
She remains at the top of the amphitheater, and I do the same.
After all, one wrong move might get them killed.
I’ll never be able to forgive myself if Abigail dies because of me. I’ll never be able to face Ruby if I allow her mother to die on my watch, either.
“An understandable request, but I’ll be holding on to my weapon,” Lucas replies. “But don’t worry. I have no intention of killing them—yet. All you have to do is cooperate, and I’ll let them live. If you don’t…”
He trails off, the meaning clear.
“You’re out of control, Lucas,” Cassandra says. “Killing those humans on our territory was bad enough. But what you’re doing to Abigail and Yannick right now? This is the kind of act that starts wars amongst our kind.”
Lucas’s laughter rings hollow in the night air. “War? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re already at war. With the shadow souls roaming the city, the old rules no longer apply. And when I lead us to victory against them, I’ll be the one rewriting the laws around here.”
I want more than anything to scorch that arrogant smirk off his face.
I would, if I didn’t think the guards towering over Abigail and Yannick would kill them if I make a move against their leader.
Finally, Lucas turns his attention to me, his gaze unsettling. “And you, Amber,” he continues. “You’re as beautiful as the last time we saw each other. You have no idea how much it pleases me to be in your presence again.”
Memories of our last encounter flash through my mind.
The pain when his fangs pierced my neck.
The horror when he started to drink.
The fear when he pushed me down and trapped me under his weight.
The desperation as he nearly drained me dry.
“What do you want?” I remain on guard, not putting away my dagger, and not moving down the stairs.
His smile widens “All I want is another taste of your blood,” he says. “You tasted so delicious, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since that night. Don’t you feel the same? At least a little bit?”
Panic flares inside me at his words.
If he drinks from me a second time, it could initiate a blood bond between us.
The thought of being bonded to this monster makes me feel sick.
“You’ve forgotten what you’re dealing with,” I tell him. “Thanks to that potion, I’m a beacon to shadow souls. It won’t be long until they track me here and attack.”
“Then I suppose you’ll have to be a good girl and let me drink from you before they have a chance,” he says. “Don’t worry—we’ll get out of here immediately afterward. And I’ll stick to my word and let your friends go free.”
I seriously doubt that.
“No,” I say, my grip tightening around the hilt of my dagger. “What else do you want?”
He narrows his eyes at me, studying me, saying nothing.
A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach.
“No?” he finally says. “That’s a shame. I thought you’d be more... cooperative, given the circumstances.”
The memories of his drinking from me flash through my mind again. The disgust, the fear, how defenseless I felt as he pulled out more and more of my blood—and I freeze up, haunted by the thought of his lips near my neck again.
I glance at Cassandra, but she’s completely still, her gaze stuck on Yannick.
She loves him. And she’s scared.
Out of all the emotions I’ve ever expected out of Cassandra, fear never crossed my mind as a possibility.
I suppose everyone has their weaknesses. Even fierce, seemingly heartless vampire warriors.
“There has to be something else you want.” I stand strong against Lucas, unwilling to back down.
He sighs in frustration, then turns to the guard hovering over Yannick.
“Kill him,” he commands, and the guard raises his dagger and pierces it straight through Yannick’s heart.