To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 12

12

1836 NORTHERN NORMANDY, FRANCE

T heo guided her through a gothic archway, its stone protectors glaring down at them with grotesque faces. A gust of wind swept through the stone corridor, toying with the ends of her hair as they finally ascended the steps of the stone, turreted building that sat atop the rocky island like a crown. Amalie looked up, stretching her neck to see where the spires scraped the sky.

They strode through wooden doors similar to the ones at the lower gate, and Amalie blinked to clear her vision in the dim interior. Her eyes widened. Rich tapestries hung on the walls. Carpets covered the stone floors, and vases of fresh-cut flowers sat on tables mirroring each other on either side of the entry. She didn't know what she'd expected. Something like a dungeon, she supposed. Gloomy, dark, and cold. This was the opposite.

"This is where you live?" she asked as Theo walked toward a central stone spiral staircase.

He nodded, maintaining his grip on her as they ascended. She soon saw why. The staircase opened wide at each floor, revealing richly adorned sitting rooms where vampires lounged and fires crackled in the hearth.

"How many of you are there?"

"Only one. I thought you would've recognized that by now," Theo murmured.

Amalie hated that she almost laughed. "You know what I meant. How many vampires?"

"Not all vampires are created equal, so you can imagine my confusion." Theo exited the staircase on the third level, pulling her with him through another common room to a door on the left. They entered a hall that forced them to turn right, then stopped in a large, open room with dark wood paneling on the walls. A sprawling desk and upholstered chairs sat on polished wooden floors.

Amalie's heart sank. "You don't sleep in beds." She longed to curl up on a mattress but now had visions of cold stone floors and potato sacks.

Theo shrugged. "Not always, but they can still be incredibly useful." He dropped his hand, and Amalie's skin immediately cooled. She shuffled away from him, ignoring the hairs on her neck standing at attention. "These are my quarters." Theo strode across the room and motioned to a door at the back. "Everyone will expect?—"

"I'm not staying with you." She’d done as he asked, and one game was more than enough for her.

He gave her an amused look. "I assumed as much, which was why I was about to say you could have this room if you’d prefer. If you would've let me finish." He pointed to a second door next to the first.

Amalie fingered the hem of her shirt. It had come loose during their trek across the sand flats. She reeked of sweat and dirt from the floor of the shed, and she hadn't eaten more than the bread and cheese Theo had offered her hours prior. All she wanted to do was bolt through that door, strip off her clothes, and take a hot bath. But she didn't know if vampires did that. If there would be a wash basin, or food, or?—

"They won't ask questions if that's what you're concerned about. My lifestyle has always been a bit odd. They're used to it."

Amalie swallowed hard. His lifestyle. This place. It felt like she was drinking from a bucket. "You play with your conquests before you kill them?"

"If only all of us could be as morally pure as Amalie Clermont." Theo pushed off of the wall, his expression clouded. "I'll have food brought up to you. If you need anything, you can knock." He pushed her door open. “I don’t recommend you leave your room.”

Amalie stormed past him, her chest tightening with each breath. How had he known her name? ‘Amalie’ was simple enough, but she hadn’t gone by Clermont since she was seven years old. She’d been Amalie Allard since they’d come north.

I didn’t kill your mother.

Anger built in her chest like a thunderhead. He'd brought her here, yet since they'd stepped foot on this rock swept by the tide, he’d told her nothing more.

Amalie swore under her breath and glanced around her room. It was much more grand than her room at home, either the one in the city she shared with Olivie or the one at Uncle Oren’s. There was already a fire lit in the hearth. Her bed was turned down. A water basin and clean cloth sat on the dressing table.

She dropped to the chaise and stripped off her boots and socks. Just as she suspected, the skin was rubbed raw on her ankles and the edges of her toes. She winced as she ran her fingers over it to check for bleeding. Thankfully, it had already stopped, soaked into her socks.

Her heart started to pound. Did Theo expect her to stay here alone while she waited to change? She’d been so focused on her questions, she still didn’t know how or when that would happen. She’d asked in the shed, and he hadn’t answered. The least he could do was tell her what to expect.

Amalie flung her door open and stormed into the hall. She pounded her fist on Theo’s door. It swung open within seconds, and she stumbled forward.

"Changed your mind?" Theo's shirt was unbuttoned, revealing sun-kissed skin and well-toned muscles. Nothing like the legends.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. What had she been wanting to ask? "I thought you couldn't go in the sunlight." Amalie forced her eyes to his face.

"We can't," he answered quickly.

"Then why do you look like that?"

"You'll have to be more specific."

Amalie slid into the room and pressed her palms against the door. It closed with a scrape. "You're not pale or cold like the legends. You don't have bloodshot eyes and fangs showing over your lips."

Theo turned, continuing to undress. He threw his shirt over the post of his bed, and Amalie’s mouth felt like it had been swabbed with cotton. Ink-like marks wound over his broad shoulders, connecting along his spine. She caught a glimpse of a sun and moon and a symbol on the underside of his forearm that looked exactly like the signet on the ring she’d stolen.

If Theo saw her gawking, he didn’t let on. "We're built to attract those we seek. Our appearance has changed over time. A thousand years ago, humans preferred lighter hair and skin. Now you seem to be preoccupied with . . .” He inspected himself in the mirror along the far wall. “Dark features." He glanced up and caught her eye.

Amalie set her jaw and glared at him. "It's disgusting."

"You set traps for your food. Smear your faces with mud. Dress in colors that mimic the grass or trees. It isn't any different." Theo reached for the button on his pants.

"Can you stop, please? I didn't come here to watch you undress."

Theo smirked. "Then why did you come?"

Amalie bit the inside of her cheek, her heart racing like she’d just climbed the staircase at the abbey. Vain bastard. “You said I’d learn more once we arrived.”

“And you will.” Theo sat on the bed, leaning back on his forearms, his trousers still unbuttoned. Three stripes of black ink dragged over his left hip and disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.

Amalie blushed in spite of herself. “I’ve been patient.” They were his words she hoped to use against him, but they backfired. All they brought into her head was the memory of his lips on hers.

Theo looked amused. “Hardly.”

“You can’t keep touching me or—taking things without permission.”

“I had permission for that.”

Amalie’s eyes widened. He thought she’d wanted his kiss? “No, I?—“

“You agreed to play the part. It kept you safe. I won’t apologize.”

Amalie wanted to scream. Instead, she drew a deep breath and refocused. She needed to play nice. She needed the answers she came for. “Am I going to succumb to darkness overnight? Will there be pain? Will I burn from the inside out?”

Theo frowned, then cocked his head. “Possibly all of the above.”

“Excellent.” Amalie’s lips pulled into a tight line. She wished she had another stake in her hands. Even if she couldn’t kill him with it, she could at least watch him bleed. Theo’s lips curled into a smile, and Amalie couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “You find this funny?”

Theo sat straight. “A little. But only because I’d forgotten.”

“Forgotten what, exactly?” Amalie seethed, her anger finally killing any desire to rake her eyes down his bare torso. It was a shame that the lithe male form would be ruined for her after this moment.

“The outrageous story you’ve been telling yourself.” Theo pushed up off the mattress. He prowled across the wood floor and stopped in front of her. With him looming over her, her bravado sank, seeping out through her aching feet, leaving only panic.

She’d tried to be strong, but here she was alone with only the man she’d hated her entire life to talk to. Her family, her friends, everything in her life was gone. Pointless. A film of exhaustion and grief settled over her, making her body as heavy as lead.

“Why would you do this to me?” she breathed.

Something flickered in Theo’s eyes, and his jaw tightened. “Besides saving you from frostbite, feeding you supper, and providing you safety for the night, I’ve done nothing else.” He turned from her and stalked to the table at the edge of the room, pouring himself a glass of amber liquid.

Amalie’s eyes burned. “How dare you pretend?—”

“You want to know what to expect? Why you’re still living after a bite from a vampire?” Theo turned, his lips wet, the glass in his hand.

Amalie swallowed hard. Why had he used those words? Why would he talk to her about living? She wanted to know what to expect when she turned. It was no life to be proud of.

Could he be attempting to distract her? The old stories poured through her mind. Le Sombre cursed to quell his loneliness, but it was insatiable. Vampires, in their lust for companionship, turned others with their bite only to discover their power was split, shared with their victims. They became weak, drawn further into shadow, forced to accept their isolation or shrivel in darkness without the power they’d been given . . .

Theo took three slow steps toward her, his eyes fixed on hers. “You believe I turned you. You think I gave up the power of Le Sombre to curse you like the rest of us.”

The name of the Shadow pulled her above her racing blood. Le Sombre. His power. Was Theo asking if she believed he’d transferred that power by turning her into a vampire like him? Was he amused because she was na?ve enough to believe the legends or foolish enough to believe he’d act in such a way?

Amalie swallowed the shame working its way up her throat. His venom was the reason she was standing there, wasn’t it?

Theo took another step. “If I turned you, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

“Why not?” Amalie felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff. She held her breath, desperate for the answer about to slip through his lips.

“Because I’d be a weakened sop.”

Amalie’s hands started to shake. It was true, then. When vampires were created, they sacrificed. Which meant?—

“And you decidedly wouldn’t be,” he finished.

Amalie’s breath hissed between her teeth. She wouldn’t be? There she stood like a drowned cat, her bones frosting over, in front of a creature that only half a day prior she’d stabbed in the heart with a stake. She was sick of him dancing around her questions, batting at her like a mouse hanging on a string.

“Humans don’t survive vampire bites,” she snapped. “Your kind feed like gluttonous dogs. I should be dead on the floor of my bedroom.”

Theo shook his head, the light flickering from lamps hung on the walls warming the right side of his face. “Almost always wrong.”

He thought her stupid. So be it, but she at least needed to force a straight answer out of him. Amalie was shivering again, and just as she was about to insist he stop talking nonsense, Theo opened his mouth. “I thought you’d know something. That you’d—” He caught himself, his hands balling into fists. “You have no idea who you are, do you?”

The walls seemed to close in on her, and Amalie put a hand on the armoire next to her. She wanted to shout back at him. To fight and kick like she had when his arms were around her, but his words held her in a choke hold as his eyes traveled over her, the smirk fading from his lips.

That question should’ve felt like the others he’d asked, a half-truth, a slap, but it didn’t. His words struck her like a mallet, ringing her from the inside out.

It wasn’t only this night she couldn’t make sense of.

She’d seen with her own eyes that her mother had been killed by Vallon, but her family had tried to bury the truth. They’d never let her see her mother’s body. Her uncle had never talked about it since that day.

Then her uncle’s refusal to admit the truth followed by their conversation outside her bedroom door. What else would he have told her? Missing pieces that she’d stored carefully in her memory over the years splayed out in her head. Their hushed relocation. The change of their names. Uncle Oren’s rules.

There was something there. Something she wasn’t seeing. What did Theo know that she didn’t?

His eyes were sharp as he gave a small smile that seemed disarmingly sincere. "It's true that humans die when they are bitten, but you misunderstand the reason why. You call us 'gluttonous dogs,' and I won't refute that point, but humans would die regardless of how much or how little we drank. Their blood reacts to our saliva. It coagulates within minutes. So, yes. We drink fast and fully. Waste not, want not."

Their blood, not hers. You have no idea who you are, do you? Amalie pressed harder against the smooth wood. He spoke about death as if he were recounting a trip to the market. "You drank my blood."

"I did not."

Amalie’s frown deepened. "I have the marks to prove it."

"A bite does not equal feeding."

Amalie’s throat was thick. No wonder it had felt like seconds. "I don't understand." If he hadn’t fed, then that solidified her assumptions. He’d injected his venom. Why else would he bite?

Her breath came quickly then as a tiny spark of hope flickered to life within her. Was he saying she wasn’t turning into a monster? That there was some other explanation for why she still stood there, herself, after his bite?

Theo took another drink from his glass, and Amalie’s mind reeled. He could drink something other than blood? He swirled the last inch of gold in his glass. "I told you a story of a bloodline.”

“Of your slaves, yes, I remember.” Amalie twisted her hair around her finger.

Theo’s eyes hardened. He walked forward, stopping close enough that Amalie expected to smell the sour odor of his drink on his breath, but there was nothing. “I hoped you’d think beyond your judgment, but since you seem incapable and my body needs rest, I’ll state it simply. You would survive any vampire bite because your blood was made to be taken. You are born of the guardian bloodline I spoke of."

Amalie blinked, his words so far beyond the realm of possibility, she couldn’t make sense of them. Made to be taken? What had he said of the bloodline? That they’d been a gift from the gods. That the gods had dealt mercy to humans and vampires alike.

But she, a member of that bloodline? "No!" The word sprung like vomit to her throat. Amalie stumbled back, moving as far from Theo as she could. No. This had to be another one of his games.

Theo had bitten her. She’d survived because he’d turned her into a vampire like him. It had nothing to do with a gift of the gods or magic in her blood.

Humans would never have accepted that agreement. To live as offerings to vampires, to allow them to freely drink of their blood. Vampires were powerful—deadly. What would stop them from harming them? Slaughtering them if they desired? Theo’s words resonated through her. Companionship. Pleasure. "I don't believe you.”

Theo shrugged, but his eyes were still sharp. "You don't have to believe me, but like you said. You standing there still human is all the proof you need."

“That isn’t proof of your story. It’s a fact. Somehow I lived, but I have no evidence that your explanation is the right one.” She took a step toward the door, but Theo shifted like smoke to block it. “You say you didn’t drink. If my blood was so desirable, such a gift, how could you stop yourself?”

“Perhaps I don’t always take without permission.”

That time Amalie did laugh out loud. “You kill humans! You feed and take their lives!” She turned her back on him, running her hands through her hair. There had to be some other explanation, but as Amalie searched her memories for something to prove Theo a liar, pieces of her life story began to create more questions than answers. The strict rules of their childhood. The medical condition she'd been born with and the management it took.

She whirled back to face him. "I have a blood condition. I receive treatments every few months to make sure I don't bleed out from a simple scratch." Amalie's hand flew to her neck. Without her treatments, there was a good chance Theo's bite could've killed her. Or maybe that’s how she survived? Because her blood didn’t clot as quickly?

“Is that why you chose me? Because you knew my blood was slow? Is it thickening inside me now, and you’re just waiting for me to drop dead?” Every cell in her body held its breath. She didn’t want to accept any of this, but at the same time, she’d always felt that there was something off. Last night proved that her instincts were good. Uncle Oren had been keeping things from her. He’d been planning to tell her everything.

She’d left. She’d ignored his rules and run off trying to save the world. Had it cost her the truth about her family? Her mother’s death? The blood that ran through her veins?

Theo’s eyes were dark and glassy. “What proof do you want? Would you like me to take you into the square and prick your finger? Leave you to be hunted and possessed? You live in a world where death is the worst horror, but I promise, there are worse fates.”

Amalie thrust a finger against his chest. “I live in a world where the worst horror is you .”

Truth resonated through her at that declaration. She wouldn’t be able to find her answers there because Theo would never give them. He would use her. Manipulate her. She could never be sure whether her beliefs were her own or a manifestation of his power to twist her mind at his bidding.

She jutted out her chin. “If this story is true, then I could leave. Go back. I won’t be a danger to my family.”

“You can’t go back.”

Amalie’s blood began to simmer. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” Despite how many times he’d proven that he could force her to comply, she wouldn’t give in. Let him force her. Let him take away her will. She would never give it freely.

Theo shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ll put your family and friends in danger.”

“How? You’re the only one who knows about me, so are you admitting you’ll come for us? Are you threatening me?”

Theo shook his head. “If you think I’m the only one who saw you and your friends in the courtyard that night, you’re more na?ve than I thought.”

“You didn’t see us in the courtyard. We saw you. We hunted you?—”

“I knew you were there.”

Amalie laughed out loud. “You knew? And yet still allowed me to stab a stake through your heart?”

Theo stood to his full height. “I welcomed it.”

That shut her up. It seemed each conversation with him took a turn she wasn’t expecting. She folded her arms over her chest. He was manipulating her again. “You don’t feel pain, then?”

“I feel it.”

Amalie thought back to Theo sitting at the table when she suggested he starve himself to death. Trust me, I’ve tried. Her eyes narrowed. “How long have you lived?”

“Two thousand and twenty six years. Are your feet cold?” he asked. Amalie ground her teeth realizing she’d placed one of her feet on top of the other. “An answer for an answer.”

“Yes.”

He glanced up from the floor. “Why didn’t you wear your boots?”

Amalie didn’t answer, only pressed both swollen feet to the wood. “Are you sick of it?”

“Your stubborn attitude? Absolutely.”

Amalie shot him a look. “Living.”

He didn’t blink. “More than you could possibly know.”

Amalie moved further along the shelf, and her cheeks heated when Theo’s gaze stayed fixed on her. She understood, then. Theo hadn’t brought her to the castle to answer her questions.

She cleared her throat. “That’s it, then? After living so long, you’ve found another member of guardian blood, so you want me to stay? To bond with you and live out my days with you feeding on my blood? Blood that was a gift from the gods. That belongs to your kind. That gives you . . . pleasure?”

Theo was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low it hummed. “If I thought that would make life worth living, I might consider it.” He took a step closer, and Amalie froze. “You’re too fresh to understand, but pleasure is fleeting. Pain seems to leave a more lasting impression.”

Amalie felt like a caged rabbit with him standing so close. That low burn, that deceptive calm threatened to wash over her, but she fought it. “What then? Why force me here?”

“Because we both want the same thing.” Theo reached out to straighten her collar, but she slapped his hand away.

“You don’t know half of what I want.”

His mouth curved at the edges. “You won’t be hunted here. Guardian blood is strong. We can sense it above anything else. But the scent of yours is disguised.”

Amalie scoffed, then thought of Uncle Oren’s questions. Did you hurt yourself? His eyes always darting over her and Bethany. Checking them carefully.

If this was true—if Theo's story about blood and bonds had merit—then her whole family was at risk. Bethany had treatments just like she did, but did Uncle Oren? Did his daughters? Blood was passed from parent to child, but did this heritage come from her mother or father or both? Had her mother received the injections? It was so long ago, she couldn’t remember.

Amalie glared at Theo. “You lied to me in Mordelles.”

“I never lied.”

“I thought I was turning into a vampire, and you let me believe it.” Fingers of ice spread over her spine. Why would he have done such a thing? “Did you think that would make me more malleable? More willing to follow along?”

It had worked. She hadn’t taken much convincing when she believed herself a threat to her family and friends. He’d dangled the relic in front of her, and she’d trotted along, salivating at the chance to discover his secrets. But if Theo’s story was true and she was of guardian blood . . .

She clenched her hands into fists. “You brought me here. Into a den of vampires. You offered me protection for my help in finding the sword?—”

“But that wasn’t ever what you were interested in, was it?” Theo raised an eyebrow. He walked back to the desk and set his glass on the table. “You attacked me with those revolutionaries. What do they call themselves, the Pourfendeurs? The Slayers?”

Amalie swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“And you went to them. After you left your room.”

The blood drained from her face. “You were watching me?” Amalie replayed her run through Mordelles. Her begging Marcel and Olivie to stay back, to take her life before she turned and took theirs.

“It seems I wasn’t the only one withholding information.”

Amalie steeled herself. “At least mine wouldn’t lead to your imminent enslavement” She thought of the streets below. Of the vampires she’d been only a few paces from.

Theo scoffed. “No. Just my death.”

Amalie opened her mouth and closed it. She’d wanted him to believe she was pliant. Innocent. But she’d been fooling herself. The night had started with her stabbing him in the chest. She was a fool to think?—

“I’m glad we’re at least on the same page.” Theo stepped closer, his trousers riding dangerously low on his hips.

“What are you talking about?” Amalie’s eyelids flickered, his scent suddenly swirling around her.

“I want the relic for the same reason you do.”

Amalie barked a laugh. “Doubtful.”

Theo was suddenly right in front of her. He lowered his chin to meet her eyes. “You can vanquish me yourself. And then I don’t care what you do with it. Kill them all if you want.”

Amalie’s heart skipped a beat. She’d assumed Theo wanted the relic to hold more power, to control his coven or threaten other vampire groups. But find the relic to take his own life? It didn’t make any sense.

Theo fixed his eyes on her. “The injections from your uncle mask the scent of your blood unless it’s fresh. I only caught the scent when you broke your skin. The others won’t sense you if you’re careful. Stay in your room?—”

“How am I supposed to find a sword while locked in my room in the middle of the sea?”

Theo’s hand twitched, and he shoved it in his pocket. “I’ve collected books. Histories, not the ones you’re used to. I’ll have them sent to your room.”

“So what, I read? Look for something that could lead us to a vampire murdering relic? What am I going to find that you haven’t?”

Theo was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning her face. “You seem motivated.” He stepped back. “I must leave tomorrow in a few hours. I’ll send for you when I return.”

“Theo—”

“Leave me. I need rest. And you need to bathe.”

Amalie clenched her jaw. “How do you expect me to take care of that with only a wash basin?”

He looked at her, a strange expression on his face. “Did you not open the other door?”