To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 11

11

1836 NORTHERN NORMANDY, FRANCE

A malie stopped where the grass gave way to an endless stretch of sand, her shirt clinging to her sweat-soaked skin. The moon was again obscured by dark clouds, and she was glad to be out of the trees so she could keep track of Theo’s shadow in front of her. “How much further?”

“It would be quite a bit less if you’d allow me to?—”

“You’re not carrying me.”

Theo had offered more than once, but she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t willingly be cradled in his arms. She had to keep her wits about her, and that meant distance was necessary.

“Suit yourself, but we have to move faster. The tide will rise before the sun.”

Amalie winced as she stepped down onto the packed sand. The edges of her heels burned, rubbing against the damp leather of her boots. She would surely find blisters there when she took them off.

Exhaustion tugged at the edges of her mind, but she gritted her teeth and tromped along behind him, ignoring his annoyed look each time he turned to make sure he wasn’t getting too far ahead.

She didn’t want to feel tired. She didn’t want to feel weak. Any abnormal physical sensation sent streaks of terror over her skin. Was this the moment she would turn? Was that twinge or that stumble proof that her body was groaning under the weight of a curse it could not bear?

To distract herself, Amalie focused all her energy on Theo. She cataloged how his form seemed to blur at the edges when he quickened his pace. How his intoxicating scent became more powerful when he exhibited heightened emotion. How even when she closed her eyes, she could sense him, point to exactly where he stood.

Though not watching him was next to impossible. The fluidity of his movement was just alien enough to create a fixation. She wanted to put him behind glass or creep up on him while he was sleeping so she could inspect him without shame. The thought of observing him without his notice, of touching him or running her fingers over his sharp angles sent a flush across her chest.

No . Attraction wasn’t her fault, and she was doing research. Learning everything she could to be of use to the Pourfendeurs.

“Faster,” Theo barked.

Amalie slogged through the damp sand, dragging her boots free each time they sank in the muck. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Do you enjoy swimming?”

Amalie growled and pushed herself into a jog, her feet screaming with each slap against the ground. She caught up to Theo and pushed past him.

“I didn’t say you had to run.”

Amalie ignored him. He might have power from Le Sombre, but she had an iron force of will. When she was a young girl, her mother had called her “Amalie d’Acier,” Amalie of Steel , because once she made up her mind, there was no changing it.

Theo might be faster, but he would not beat her.

“Stop!” Theo commanded, and Amalie pushed ten more strides to prove her point. Her throat and lungs burned as she slowed, gasping for breath.

She braced herself with hands on her thighs and looked up. A thread of gold glinted on the horizon, and in front of it—her eyes widened at the sight. A dark silhouette of spires and stone loomed above her. The wind carried the scent of salt and the sharp calls of seabirds.

Theo stalked forward to stand in front of her. He inspected her, his eyes lingering on the hair clinging to her forehead. She swiped it away.

“You are in love with me.” His eyes bored into her.

Amalie gaped at him. Yes, the castle blooming out of black granite was impressive, but his glamour was losing its effect on her. If he thought that was all it took for a woman to throw herself at him, he was more vain than she’d accused. “I assure you, I am not.”

Theo raised an eyebrow as if he knew exactly how long her eyes had lingered on him while they crossed the flats. “It’s a ruse.” He turned to the arched wooden doors. “While I’m sure you’d never degrade yourself by sleeping with the damned, in this place, you must pretend to be obsessed.”

Amalie wiped at the sweat on her brow, finding her skin gritty. “You said you were taking me to safety.”

“Trust me, this is better than the alternative.”

Amalie scoffed. “Trust you? If this is some sick game you’re playing?—”

“It’s not optional.” Theo turned, his smirk fading. “Everyone past that gate is like me. Equally attuned to the blood coursing through your veins.”

Amalie paled. Theo was dropping her into a nest of vampires? Why would he do that? It seemed he wanted her alive since he believed she had some knowledge of this relic he sought, so why put her in danger?

Realization struck. She wouldn’t be in danger for long. Once she turned . . . Amalie gazed up at the looming spires. Was this to be her home?

Theo stepped closer, his eyes burning like the line of fire creeping over the horizon. The wind tossed dark tendrils of hair over his eyes. “You know nothing of our kind, but we don’t often cross another’s interests. They will think nothing of you if they believe you singularly smitten.”

Amalie’s gaze flicked to the massive wooden doors cut into the stone wall, then back to Theo. Her stomach twisted. “They will think nothing because this is a regular occurrence? You whip women into a frenzy and ferry them here to please you?”

Theo leaned closer. “Are you in a frenzy?” he whispered, but before Amalie could slap him, he was ten steps ahead of her. His low chuckle brushed past her ears on the breeze.

Obsessed. Smitten. How could she possibly be believable? If she fell in love with a man, he would be kind. Strong but gentle. He wouldn’t tease with cruelty. He wouldn’t order her around and expect her tongue to loll at the opportunity to obey him like a dog obeyed her master.

The clock ticked in her head. She didn’t have much time.

Amalie’s heart dropped to her knees as Theo reached for the bronze handle on the door. “Why not tell them I’ve been turned. Just explain that?—”

Theo’s expression was impassive as he pulled on the handle, and Amalie answered her own question with the information she had. When she finally turned, Theo would be weak. Maybe he already was. He wouldn’t want other vampires to know that. That was what he was trying to tell her. If she wanted to survive, she needed them to believe he was strong. Desirable. You know nothing of our kind.

The door creaked, scraping against the drifted sand, and Amalie followed him through the ancient arch. She paused, running her hand over the carvings on the wood. An oval, tilted. Half light, half dark, connected by a smooth swirl in the center. “This was on your ring.”

Theo paused. “It’s my signet.”

“Yours? Do you—are you in charge here?”

Theo turned. “I want my ring back.”

Amalie glared at his back as she followed him along the cobbled street. The sky was lightening with the rising sun, but its soft pink and orange rays barely penetrated the high walls. Sand collected in the crevices between stones, and signs for shops and public houses hung from iron bars.

A lead weight seemed to settle in her stomach. This was where they lived. Where they brought their prey—men and women like her, manipulated by their beauty and power. How many others had Theo brought here? How many before her had traipsed up this path unwittingly to their death?

Movement ahead nearly caused her to stumble, and Theo reached out a hand to steady her. When she tried to rip her arm away, Theo gripped tighter and gave her a sidelong glance. Bile rose in her throat. She could run. She could announce the truth and allow her voice to echo off the stone walls as she declared all that had happened since the night before. But the thought of defying Theo’s orders while surrounded by vampires felt like slitting her wrists and throwing herself into a pack of wolves.

He was the monster she knew. But how long would she have to pretend?

Amalie twisted, wrapping her arm around his and clinging to his bicep. Warmth bled into her through the thin cotton of his shirt. His spiced floral and citrus scent invaded her senses, and she forgot for a few brief seconds that she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it. That calm, that pleasure meant one thing.

Vampires.

As if she’d conjured them with their thoughts, shadows began to shift. They appeared out of thin air from around corners, down stairs built into the hillside, and through the doors and windows of apartments built above the shops. Fluid, like smoke and mist.

Amalie’s heart beat hot at her throat. They could smell her. She clung tighter to Theo’s arm and scoffed internally at the lunacy of it. This creature who had taken everything from her, now a protector?

"Bonsoir, Theo.” A voice smooth as silk lifted from a man whose skin looked nearly blue under the moonlight. A sleek black coat hung from his shoulders, moving like liquid as he bowed, his eyes gleaming amber.

"Etienne." Theo nodded. The vampire moved to the side as two women slunk closer and clung to his sides. Even with makeup and brightly colored dresses, they looked small and dull compared to him. Humans , Amalie realized, and her stomach clenched.

Another group appeared across from them. Vampires and more humans, men and women this time. She was going to be sick. How many were there? Had they only arrived that night? Would they last past the morning?

A vampire wearing nothing but a pair of loose trousers gave a small wave.

Theo waved back. “Paul.”

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” A stunning, statuesque vampire with light, silky hair and lips as red as a blood moon assessed Amalie with unveiled curiosity. She smiled, exposing sharp, white teeth. “Or it seems the pleasure will be all yours.”

Theo’s arm tensed under Amalie’s grip. “Jealousy has never suited you Clémentine.” He kept walking as the woman flicked her tongue over her cherry lips. Amalie wanted to run. To escape the narrow chute between the buildings and hold her face to the sun.

She glanced up at Theo. Could he stand in sunlight? The legends said no, but they’d already failed her. She hadn’t thought to ask.

“This one must be special.” A tall, muscular man with sandy hair that fell to his shoulders sat on the steps next to them. “How long has it been Theo? You never bring your toys home anymore.”

“He doesn’t like to share.” Clémentine pouted.

The man laughed, then sprang from the stone and fell into step next to them. He slung an arm over Theo’s shoulders. “We’ve missed you, love. We wondered . . .”

Theo shrugged him off and stopped, then pulled his arm from Amalie’s grip. He ran his hand up her back, then curled his hand around her neck, covering her marks. “Worried I’d moved on without you, Ren?”

This was a game. He didn’t want them to see he’d bitten her, and she had to play along. Amalie slid an arm around his waist, doing her best to mimic the other humans she saw and become the na?ve, flattered girl while her mind whirred beneath the surface.

By the way they greeted him, it was obvious that Theo landed somewhere at the top of their social structure. His signet was on the doors. Had he found this place and made it his, or had he done something to earn that mark?

“Not worried. Rather. . . interested.” Ren stepped in front of Amalie and crouched to look her in the eye. “She looks terrified, Theo. Your charm may be slipping.”

Amalie’s heart fluttered in her throat. She wasn’t selling it. Keeping her expression even, she flipped through possible responses, roles she could play, but quickly settled on something close to herself. If she did love someone, and if they were being taunted by friends—or enemies, she couldn’t quite tell—she would want to protect him. She would want to make him appear strong.

She met Ren’s stare. His eyes were slate gray, and though his mouth wore a smirk, they seared into her.

Amalie stopped fighting Theo’s blanket of calm. She drew a deep breath and let it wash over her. “I’m bored with your friends, Theo. Why are we still standing here instead of finding somewhere we can be alone?” The words came too easily, and the comfort of being close to him too natural. A wave of nausea engulfed her, and she turned her head, pretending to bury it in Theo’s shoulder.

His fingertips twitched against her arm as Ren’s brow lifted, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “Ah. I see it now. She’s got some fight in her. Theo’s gotten picky in his old age. Wants a challenge.” Ren shoved a hand in his pocket and stepped back, never severing eye contact. “I hope this one sticks around. We could use a bit of fun.”

Amalie rolled her eyes, then turned toward Theo, placing a hand on his chest. Her breath caught as she felt his heart beating hard and fast, and she cleared her throat before blinking adoringly up at him.

Theo lifted a finger, tilting her chin up, then lowered his head to an inch above hers. “You’ve been patient.” Amalie quivered, her pulse bucking wildly beneath his fingertips. Theo ran his thumb over her neck and raised an eyebrow. It was wrong how her body couldn’t discern between manipulated want and mortal threat. He was a predator. She was prey.

Amalie pulled him closer and slipped her cheek against his. “Don’t push your luck,” she hissed and felt his exhaled laugh against the shell of her ear.

He pulled back, his eyes glinting as if daring her to stop him, then slowly brushed his lips over hers. The touch was featherlight, and yet it ignited a blaze within her. Her grip on his waist tightened, her ribs cinching around her lungs.

She’d felt this before. There was a flash of dark sheets, Theo’s body positioned over hers. In a split second it was over, and she blinked, staring back at him in shock.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Theo straightened, keeping her collared with his fingers and nudging her forward. “Lovely to see you all.”

Clémentine glared at Amalie, then disappeared into the shadows. Etienne and his pets joined three other vampires watching from the far side of the street, but Ren stood with his eyes still fixed on hers. He watched as Theo led her up the cobbled street, and she felt his eyes on her well after they ascended the stairs.

“What was—” she started, but Theo squeezed and shook his head. Amalie clamped her mouth shut and followed, her arm still looped around him. His muscles flexed under her palm each time he took a step.

She peered into the dark, forcing her eyes to trace the intricate carvings on the stone as they spiraled upward into the pinks and oranges of sunrise. What had she seen? Was his glamour strong enough to put images in her head?

She needed to move away from him. Her lips felt seared where he'd kissed her, and his scent still bathed her in calm, willing her to be compliant. With her feet still stinging and her muscles burning, it was becoming more difficult to want to pull away.

Amalie reminded herself this was necessary. She had to play a part. She needed answers, and this was the only way to get them. Then she raced to remind herself why she hated this man. He'd taken her mother. Attacked her in her bedroom.

The only reason he'd taken her in and warmed her by the fire was so he could use her as a tool. That’s all humans were to his kind.

She would kill him.

Just as she’d planned to do the first time. Because what she felt and what she chose were two different things.

She would fight his glamour. She would play this game a little longer until she could take information back to her friends, until she discovered her own fate, and until she knew each step it would take to rid the world of Theo Vallon and every last vampire like him.