To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 10

10

1836 MORDELLES, FRANCE

A malie blinked. One of her ancestors? How could that be possible? She’d never heard of anyone in her family line who was important enough to know of the relics. Though, Uncle Oren had withheld information. I planned to tell you everything on your eighteenth birthday, but you left.

What more did he have to tell her? It didn’t matter now. Her fate was sealed. She didn’t trust a thing coming out of Theo’s mouth, but this story she was tempted to believe.

He was a vampire. Vampires wanted power, control. If he had given up his power to turn her, it would have to be for a good reason. Finding a sword that could vanquish vampires would make him the most powerful of his kind.

“If you want my help, tell me what’s happening to me.” She wouldn’t help him. But if there was a sword that could kill creatures of the dark, that was exactly what Marcel and Olivie needed.

Theo tapped his fingers on the table. “That’s another question.”

Amalie pushed a few inches back from the glowing hearth. “It was a demand.”

Theo strode forward and settled into a crouch beside her, the glow from the fire bathing him in warmth. He was so close, his scent mingled with the wood smoke. The marks on Amalie's neck began to throb with the beat of her pulse.

He sat perfectly still, as if posing for her scrutiny. As if he enjoyed knowing her eyes were drawn to him. Any attempts to muster anger fizzled like blazing coals dropped in a lake. Gods. If every part of him was meant to lure her in, he was a masterpiece. Even as she reminded herself how this man had killed her mother, how he'd attacked her in her room, how he'd poisoned her blood and stripped everything she loved, her thoughts found no purchase amidst the swirl of longing in her gut.

He finally turned, his silhouette outlined by the nascent glow of the fire, and their eyes locked. Theo’s breath quickened, his expression sobering. "You must feel it."

Amalie's skin prickled. "Feel what?" For a moment, she stopped fighting the way her body reacted to him. He was toying with her, and she wanted to punish him for it. Let him believe she was being lured in.

The corner of Theo's mouth twitched. He didn’t answer her question, and Amalie almost wondered if she’d imagined his words that led her to ask it. What must she feel? Was he expecting the change to happen soon?

Was she changing? Besides the strange magic he was weaving, she felt nothing out of the ordinary. Her body still behaved like her own.

Theo’s face was again inscrutable. "What do you know about the creation of vampires?"

"I want to know about myself, I didn't request a history lesson," she snapped, then realized her mistake. He was talking. She needed him to talk.

"Impatient." Theo tsked. "If there's something important I'm keeping you from, please." He motioned toward the door with a self-satisfied smirk.

Amalie's nostrils flared, but she drew a deep breath. Nothing important. Just the loss of her human life.

She slowed her exhale. "I’m sorry. That was rude.” Theo regarded her, his face impassive. Amalie continued, “Vampires were cursed by Le Sombre. They wreak havoc on humankind.”

She remembered the stories. How the gods took pity on mortals and gifted a defense—humans who had unearthly strength and could see past the Shadow’s tricks. For years after her mother’s death, she’d searched for them. These golden-haired heroes who would protect her family and push the vampires back.

They’d never come. Her mother was dead, and more humans were going missing every week. That was when she’d sought out Marcel and the Pourfendeurs. When she realized that if she wanted a hero, she’d have to become one herself.

Amalie swallowed. “There were supposed to be guardians. Humans with the strength of the gods who wouldn't be seduced by your kind." Our kind.

Theo’s eyes were dark. "Are you seduced?"

Amalie's jaw tightened. Regardless of what power he wielded, she didn’t want to be, and that was what mattered. “Not for long,” she whispered.

Theo leaned closer, and Amalie's breath snagged. She held it as he reached over her and took an iron poker from a hook embedded in the stone. When he rocked back and began prodding the half-burned logs, she let out a shaky exhale.

"I doubt you'll enjoy hearing the true story of our past,” he said.

Grief and rage pricked her heart in equal measure. She’d asked about herself, and he’d answered with what was now to become a shared history. A heritage she’d never asked for and couldn’t accept. Why had he done this to her? Amalie clenched her hands into fists, willing her tears not to fall.

She had to know the truth. She had to take something back to Marcel and Olivie. "Tell me."

Theo laid the poker on the stone in front of him, then sat on the stone beside her. "Ask me nicely."

Amalie shifted so her bare back faced away from him. What game was he playing? Amalie had long been acquainted with the oppressive weight of men’s expectations. At sixteen, she'd caught the eye of Henri, a wealthy suitor from the south loosely connected to Oren through Maurielle's brother. He courted her with lavish gifts and whispered promises of a comfortable life, then cornered her in the garden, his fingers digging into her wrist as he expressly forbade her to cut her hair shorter than her shoulders.

At seventeen, when she left the countryside, she found work as a seamstress in a high-end fashion house with master tailor Monsieur Dubois. He was a man of impeccable taste and often gave her clothing tailored to her frame that he expected her to wear the next day to work. Then one evening as she worked late, he approached her under the guise of offering guidance, but his hands lingered too long. When she recoiled and told him to stop, he laughed softly and told her all she had to do was ask nicely.

Amalie's eyes flashed. "Again. It wasn’t a question."

Theo’s gaze slowly rose to hers. “Why do you think I made the request?”

"You're a vain bastard, and you wish me to be obedient? That, or you want to hear your name on my lips a second time,” she hissed, and regretted it instantly. She was failing. Theo would never believe she trusted him if she kept biting his head off. But it was like he knew exactly where to push to make her see red.

Theo smirked. "Vain bastard. I've been called plenty of things over the years by women like you, but that's new. I like it." He stood and walked back to her pile of clothes.

Women like her? He knew nothing of women like her. "I told you not to touch those."

"I thought we were both doing and saying whatever we wanted now." Theo picked up her shirt and underclothes. He draped the shirt over the table next to her trousers, then made a point of carefully setting her underclothes on a chair close to the heat.

Amalie clung to the sack as she struggled up from the floor and stood in front of him, refusing to shrink as his eyes dropped to her neck and bare shoulders. "If you want my help, don’t treat me like your plaything."

It was a stupid thing to say, and she knew it. Theo had the strength of a god, and she was wrapped in discarded burlap, weak from the cold. But not forever. She would gain his power, would she not?

Something inside her stirred, just as it had when Uncle Oren tried to force her to keep his rules. Maybe it was hubris or sheer rebellion, but she wouldn't sit under anyone's thumb. Especially not one like his.

Theo fingered the lace on her bralette, his shadow stretching across the wall behind him. "Fine. Not a plaything." He looked up through his thick lashes, and Amalie’s blood burned.

Then in a blink, he stood directly in front of her. She yelped and stumbled back, but he caught her arm. "I will keep you safe. In exchange, you will help me find the relic."

Amalie struggled against his grip, but the sack she held around her body began to slip. She froze, and Theo dropped her wrist like she was a hot coal. She couldn’t accept this bargain. She didn’t know the first thing about this sword, and she couldn’t go back to her family for answers. But if she didn’t accept? She could lose the only opportunity to protect those she loved.

Amalie forced her head to nod and felt invisible knots cinch around her wrists.

Theo took a step back, then pointed at a baguette and hunk of cheese on the table. How long had that been there?

Theo unbuttoned his sleeves, allowing the cuffs to hang loose around his wrists. He didn't look like a monster. He never had. That was the problem.

"You’ve had enough time to rest, and your clothes aren’t sopping. Get dressed. We’re leaving now."

Amalie reached for her damp clothes. She turned, dropped the sack, and put on her bralette, then pulled her shirt over her head. She tried not to think about whether Theo was watching.

The fabric felt glorious on her skin after being rubbed raw by rough fibers for the past hour. Once she was dressed, she turned and stared at the food, wondering if she could eat it. Did vampires live off of more than just blood? Her heart sped at another thought almost as sinister. Coming from Theo, the food could be poisoned, or worse, drugged. But the ache in her stomach was too strong. She gave in. Her weakness was revolting.

Theo stalked to the door as she tore off some of the bread and ate. When he swung it open, she scrambled to pull on her boots, then swiped the rest of the food from the table and followed. She could go on a hunger strike, but Theo would probably shove the food down her throat just as he’d forced her to sit by the fire, and she didn’t want his hands anywhere near her lips.

Amalie stepped onto the mulched path. The night was cool, and a mist rose from the ground like breath, but the rain had ceased. The clouds no longer shrouded the moon, and it bathed the world around them in a soft, silvery light. Their boots squelched in moss and new mud as Theo led them deeper into the woods.

He slowed to a walk only a few paces ahead of her. "Your history books are correct about our curse and the conflict it caused between our kinds in the beginning."

Why was he talking about this now? He’d seemed eager to leave and ignore that conversation, and now he was taking time to explain himself?

Amalie scoffed. "A diplomatic way to put it."

Theo gave her a tired look over his shoulder. "Does guilt eat at you?"

"Over what?"

He pointed at the bread in her hand. "The plants that your kind murder every day, the seeds you steal and grind to dust. The animals you keep captive to harvest their bodily fluids?"

Amalie's expression hardened. "It's not the same, and you know it."

"I can only survive on human blood."

"Then don't survive."

He let out a caustic laugh. "Trust me, I've tried that."

For a split second, Theo looked haunted, and questions exploded like sparks in Amalie's mind. How long had he been alive? Was he being honest that he’d tried to starve himself and failed? Theo, just like any vampire, had been human once. How long had it been since he lived a regular life, and who had turned him?

Then, like a bolt of lighting, she understood. Somehow, in his sick mind, he thought he could absolve himself by sharing the past. Or . . . Amalie’s thoughts frosted over. He thought he could absolve her. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Where human history gets it wrong is during the subsequent portion of the story," Theo said gruffly.

What was it that followed? "Defenders. The gifted power to humans by the gods."

Theo nodded and began moving forward again. "Humans were never gifted power, not in the way you understand it. The humans the gods blessed weren't powerful. They weren’t warriors. The opposite, actually."

A branch caught on Theo’s shoulder, then snapped back and stung her cheek. Amalie winced, holding out her hands to clear her path. "That isn’t logical. Humans need protection from creatures cursed by Le Sombre."

Theo had lifted her on the road like she was nothing. When he wanted to, he moved with such grace and speed, he seemed to meld with the air itself. She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t hear him.

How could humans protect themselves from power like that?

"The gift was in their blood." Theo looked back as if watching for a reaction, and Amalie worked to keep the speeding of her heart a secret. Theo cleared his throat and continued, "The only facts humans care to know about vampires is that we’re monsters. They preach about our thirst for blood, never mentioning our admirable qualities.”

Amalie laughed out loud. “If you’re going to make this a philosophical discussion on morality and ethics, I promise you, you’ll lose.”

Theo shot her a look. “We're inherently loyal. We cling to our family groups and have a strong instinct to protect those we love.”

“Congratulations. Is that before or after you slaughter innocent human beings?”

“Is it possible for you to descend from your pedestal for two seconds?”

Amalie shook her head. “I don’t believe it is.”

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

He whirled on her. “You asked for the truth about?—”

“Demanded. I never asked.” Amalie didn’t step back, instead meeting his confrontational stance.

Theo’s jaw worked. “The gift from the gods was twofold. Protection for humans, and?—"

Amalie waited, but Theo didn’t finish the sentence. She had no clue what he hesitated to say. Nothing coming out of Theo's mouth reconciled with the world or history she knew, and despite her desire to believe nothing he said, curiosity ate at her. "And what?"

Theo ran a hand through his hair. "They gave us something . . . we could love."

His words puddled at the surface, then slowly sank in. Amalie frowned. "You're saying the gods weren’t only generous to humans. They blessed vampires, as well. Why would they do that?"

"We were cursed. Their pity didn't discriminate."

Cursed. By Le Sombre. Solène and Le Sombre, once bound as one, now split in shadow and light. Amalie broke off a piece of cheese and slipped it in her mouth when she was sure he wasn’t looking. Solène and Le Sombre clashed like oil and water. One always seeking power over the other. Their world a testament to their battle of light and shadow. Why would Solène or any of the other gods feel pity for the Shadow or any of its creations?

"It doesn’t make sense,” Amalie murmured. Even if the gods had been compassionate, Theo said it was a gift of blood, not warriors or protectors. That would be a boon to the vampires, but to humans? Why would they have any need for it when blood ran freely through their veins?

"It was a blood line . Humans with blood that could heal. Regenerate. Blood that was—" He paused again, stretching his words. "Highly desirable to us."

Amalie's heart seemed to crystallize in her chest. Bloodline. Lives. Generations. "The gods gave a human bloodline to vampires?"

"In a way, but?—"

"They gave you human beings? To feed on, to keep as, what? Slaves?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Then please, explain how it was." Amalie quickened her pace, fueled by indignation and disgust. The gods were unpredictable, but this? How could the gods bless humans by forcing them to associate with the cursed? By stripping them of their freedom?

A muscle in Theo's jaw flexed. "It was a bonding between human and vampire. A mutual decision. One that would eliminate the terror and darkness created by Le Sombre, and in exchange, humans of the guardian blood were given safety. Companionship. Pleasure."

That word slipped through her like water, and Amalie's mind snapped back to Theo holding her in his arms. His breath against her skin. The warmth that surged in her veins instead of pain at his bite. "Why are you telling me this?" Her voice was a whisper.

Theo’s eyes flicked to hers. He shrugged. “I told you. You demanded the truth.”

Truth. The idea that she’d hear it from him was laughable. Wouldn’t he tell her anything to suit his purposes? To draw her into his palm and mold her like clay?

Amalie’s stomach curdled as a thought slammed into her. “Do you have them? Now? Is that where we’re going? If you’re expecting me to?—”

Theo’s face transformed from predatory to devastating. His perfect lips spreading wide over glaringly white teeth, his brow lifting, and his eyes glittering in the hazy moonlight. He threw back his head and laughed.

Amalie was speechless. Somehow, she hadn’t considered that his facial muscles could do anything other than glower, brood, or feed, and the result was nothing short of spectacular.

It was like watching a sunrise or holding up a glittering gem to the light. Amalie didn’t realize she’d stopped walking until Theo turned back.

“Humans. You’re so quick to draw conclusions.” He sobered, but a smile still sat on his lips. “And are nearly always wrong.”