To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 25

25

1836 NORTHERN NORMANDY, FRANCE

S he drew a shuddering breath as she clung to him, the sting quickly fading into a flood of warmth. The world seemed to flip on its head as raw heat rolled through her like honey.

Theo was everywhere. Pressed against every inch of her body, caging her in as he drank. Amalie's eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping her lips as Theo pulled blood from her veins. This wasn’t pain. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t pain . It was a heady rush that buried all rational thought.

She was color and light. Warmth and ache.

Theo pressed her harder into the wall, his fangs piercing deeper. She wanted to cry out, but clamped her mouth shut.

Amalie teetered on the brink of madness as images flickered to life. Memories? Fantasy? She couldn't tell the difference. She saw her eyes on a different face. Theo’s eyes, so close she found flecks of gold hidden in their depths.

There it was again.

That buzz of warmth. The shimmering thread of light tied to her spine. It seemed to grow taught and stretch out into the world. And then shadow moved through her like ink spilled on a manuscript. She forced herself to breathe as her knees went weak, and Theo tightened his grip on her waist. Her head tilted back as she lost all sense of grounding. Pictures formed with more intensity, more focus?—

"Amalie!" The sharpness of her mother’s voice broke through the haze, and Amalie froze against the heavy wooden door. It was a small sanctuary tucked within the north turret, its tall windows framed by ivy and overlooking the sprawling gardens below. Amalie hadn't dared sneak in before, though she was regularly drawn there. That day, she'd battled her curiosity and lost.

Inside, the air felt different. Dust motes danced in shafts of sunlight. Books were piled on shelves, their leather spines cracked and faded. A heavy oak table dominated the center, cluttered with odd trinkets.

There, her mother hunched over an ancient tome, her expression stern. "What have I told you about following me up those stairs?"

Amalie's cheeks heated. "I can climb them now."

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "I can see that."

"Can I read with you?" Amalie asked, taking a step inside, heart racing.

Her mother sighed, then beckoned for her to sit on the stool next to her. Amalie ran forward, nearly knocking into the corner of the table. Her mother grabbed her waist, lifting her, and Amalie immediately began to scan the pages in front of them.

"What is that?" She pointed at a man with long, pointed teeth.

"Silly stories. Isn't he strange looking?"

Amalie giggled. "Yes." She wanted to impress her mother with her maturity, though the picture made her pulse quicken. "A little scary," she admitted.

Her mother nodded, pulling a jewelry box toward her and allowing her to peek inside. "That's why I study here. Some things aren't meant for your eyes and ears."

Amalie played with a locket on the end of a chain, trying to figure out how to open it. "What if the silly stories are real?"

Her mother tsked. "We mustn’t let fear take root." She leaned over the table, pointing at the necklace. "That will be yours someday." Amalie's eyes lit up. "It was my mother's once . . ."

The room shifted and she was standing in a wood. Ancient trees stretched around her as she crouched, readying herself.

“You’re not protecting yourself,” a man growled, and she landed hard in the dirt. Her feet swept out from under her.

Amalie scrambled back up, assuming a defensive position. “You can’t use your advantage,” she hissed.

With a flash of smoke, the man appeared in front of her. “Do you think you’ll be fighting humans?” Theo’s eyes drilled into her. “If you’d start taking my advice, you’d be able to see it coming.”

“It’s impossible.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Go again.”

The memory blurred at the sensation of a sharp sting, and Amalie dropped back into herself. She drew a ragged breath.

Theo’s mouth was no longer touching her arm. Instead, there was pressure. His hand still circled her waist, but he wasn’t so close, and she felt the loss of him. Euphoria danced in her chest, igniting every nerve ending like wildfire. She was both alive, electric, and seconds away from collapse.

"How do you feel?" Theo's voice hummed against her temple.

Amalie swallowed. She wanted to tilt her chin. Press her lips to his jaw . . . She wasn’t in her right mind. "A little weak."

Theo was still. "To be expected."

"What is it like for you?" The words spilled from her lips before she could filter them.

"Feeding?"

She nodded, still clinging to him. Theo dropped his hand from her waist and stepped back, still pressing something against her arm.

“Much like how it feels for you to eat a meal, I expect.”

Amalie’s heart dropped. A moment later, lamp light streamed in through the open closet door. Amalie winced, blinking until her eyes adjusted.

Theo checked the cloth he held to her arm. Was it one of his shirts? Amalie couldn’t tell. When he was satisfied, he retreated into the room.

Cool air rushed against her, and she shivered. Her shirt was still pooled against her neck, and she quickly pulled it down, returning her arm to its sleeve. She felt strange. Different. That ball of light and warmth she’d felt before swelled.

Theo didn’t look at her as she exited the closet. When he finally turned, his eyes slid away from hers. “I’ll take you back.”

The words stung more than his bite. “Is it safe?”

He nodded once and stalked to the door. She followed, then stopped as Theo reached for the door handle.

Amalie pursed her lips. “You could say thank you."

He pulled and the door swung open. “You offered.”

Her eyes flashed, shame burning hot in her throat. "That doesn't mean you can't show gratitude."

His jaw worked. "Thank you."

The light inside her dulled, and her cheeks stained pink. "You're so very welcome."

Amalie swept out into the hall, walking straight to her room. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be vulnerable, even inside her own head. Theo Vallon was a vain, selfish bastard, and no amount of compassion on her part was going to change his nature.

She stormed into her room, breathless, and closed the door behind her. Leaning against the cool wood, she pressed her palms to her temples. Images of her mother still danced in her head. The image of Theo in the woods. The feel of him against her . . .

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to weep.

"Fool," she muttered under her breath, heart racing as she pulled off her shirt, lifted her arm, and stared at the two new perfect marks on her skin.