To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 27

27

1836 NORTHERN NORMANDY, FRANCE

A malie's fingers trembled as the cool water hit her face. After tossing and turning for most of the day, she finally opened the shutters. The afternoon light filtering through her window had been a welcome reprieve. She’d taken a cold bath, not calling for Henriette, and pulled a coarse linen towel from the shelf, pressing it to her cheeks.

She glared at the far wall, the knot in her stomach tightening. How dare he discard her like a used handkerchief? Amalie dropped the towel. It wasn’t anything new, though, was it? Men were always interested until they got what they wanted. That was why she tried to steer clear of them as of late.

Her stomach growled as she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into a tight braid. She’d given him her blood, and now her body was starved. She would have to wait for Henriette since traipsing around the castle wasn’t an option. She doubted Clémentine would be waiting outside her door with another offer. She hoped she wouldn’t be.

What had Clémentine meant about offering pleasure? Did vampires . . . couple? She’d always assumed they were only interested in humans, but Theo had only touched her out of necessity.

The other humans assumed she’d slept with him. The thought of them doing such things with their minds addled made her want to vomit.

Amalie stared at her face in the mirror. She looked well. Normal. Pink cheeks and an even complexion. Not like a vampire had feasted on her the night before. Hopefully.

Heat pooled below her belly button thinking of his breath against her cheek in the dark, and she gritted her teeth. The memories were so visceral. She groaned and turned from the mirror.

She hated Theo Vallon. She needed to discover how to vanquish him and his kind, which meant she could not give in to this sick curiosity for one second longer.

But would it hurt anything? It wasn’t as if she would develop feelings for him. She was only experimenting. Gathering information. As long as she wasn’t wasting time . . .

No. Exploring anything with Theo was a terrible idea. She would only allow him to feed when it was necessary. To protect the people unlucky enough to live beyond the castle walls.

With a deep breath, Amalie gathered her long, dark hair back from her face and tied it up with the swan fabric tie since she no longer needed it for her neck. She needed food, something substantial, to regain her strength, and she was not going to go begging Theo to help her.

If she stood in her doorway, she could hopefully catch Henriette as she passed, and it would be easy enough to close the door if she needed to. Amalie crossed the room and turned the knob. She hadn’t even pulled when the door swung open, and Amalie yelped, jumping back.

Theo lay sprawled out on the floor, his head now inside her room. He bolted up, his eyes blinking and his hair tousled.

For a moment, Amalie stood frozen, trying to make sense of it. Why was Theo sleeping against her door? Was he guarding her? Trying to force her into compliance? She clenched her jaw at the surge of annoyance in her chest, the echo of his snide farewell the night before still lingered in her ears.

“Afternoon.” He cleared his throat.

“What are you doing here?”

He blinked, and his dark lashes splayed over his cheek. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I was looking for Henriette.”

He assessed her. “Why?”

Her grip tightened on the door knob. "To find food."

"I can help you with that." Theo ran a hand over his face, and as he turned, Amalie’s breath caught. He was practically glowing in the morning light filtering through the glass at the end of the hall. He looked vibrant. Fresh.

Because of her blood.

"I don’t need your help. I can wait for Henriette.”

“Henriette isn’t here today.”

Amalie’s stomach plummeted. “Theo, if she?—”

“She’s with her family. It’s her day off.”

Amalie swallowed, wetting her lips. “Oh. Good.”

Theo motioned for her to walk with him down the hall. She closed the door and followed. At the end of the hall she turned left, and Theo snagged her elbow.

“Wrong way.”

She yanked her arm back. “Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t turn the wrong way.”

She glared at him, only realizing then that they’d both stopped. “Please. Lead me, oh great one.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s more like it. Someone told me recently that gratitude was a virtue?—”

Amalie growled in exasperation. “You’re a bastard.”

“ Vain bastard. Don’t forget the qualifier.” He led them down another hall, then through a door that opened to a descending spiral staircase.

Amalie kept her mouth shut. She had nothing else to say to him. She would get her food, then escape to her room and figure out what in the world she was going to do next. Theo still wouldn’t let her in on something .

That knowledge made her insides squirm. It had to be something terrible. Something that would change her mind, and since he already knew she hated him, she couldn’t imagine how anything he told her could make things worse.

But the whispers wouldn't stop. It was the feeling of hairs lifting on the back of her neck. Like the buzz in the air before a storm.

Something was there. She'd been collecting slivers of information the best she could. Flashes of memories. The threads she felt ebbing and waning within her. By the way he soured whenever it was brought up, his secrets had something to do with his promise.

“This way.” Theo led her past the parlor and down the steps. The rounded walls of the stairwell encircled them, and she tried to focus on anything other than Theo’s proximity. She counted the number of stones under her feet, analyzed the fading tapestries as they passed.

When they reached the bottom, Amalie glanced back and caught a glimpse of the library she’d been searching for the other day.

The castle halls glowed golden as they walked, rays of sunlight filtering through the high arched windows. Theo led her through an arched door and down a second, smaller spiral staircase. As they entered the kitchen below the main floor, she gaped at the high vaulted ceilings. There were dried herbs hanging with copper pots and pans. A gorgeous brick oven and iron stove.

Theo walked straight to the pantry. He pulled open the cover to reveal loaves of baguette that were fresh, no doubt. Delivered discreetly for their human guests. Amalie nearly scoffed at the word. Humans here were like fatling calves. Given their last supper before heading to the chopping block.

There were cheeses wrapped in cloth, fruits preserved in jars, and a hanging rack holding cured meats that swayed lightly at his touch.

Amalie pursed her lips. "How many humans do you and your friends plan to kill this week?"

“Depends on how perturbing they are.”

Amalie rolled her eyes and picked up an apple, inspecting its glossy red surface for blemishes. She remembered Clémentine’s assessing gaze. Theo prodding her for a pulse.

Amalie’s mouth went dry. "It’s a well-stocked pantry. For creatures who don't eat."

"Occasionally we do entertain humans." Theo said. "And not always for feeding."

"Comforting.” Amalie squeezed the closest baguette, then tore off a piece. The bread's interior was pillowy and soft against her calloused fingertips. She selected a jar of confiture, its lid adorned with faded cloth, and pried it open to reveal the deep purple preserves nestled within. Lastly, she grabbed a hunk of cheese. She set her makeshift feast on the butcher block, and set to work.

She sliced into the creamy cheese with a knife, spreading it over the torn end of the baguette before adding a dollop of tart preserve. She didn't waste time admiring her work. Amalie took a bite and closed her eyes as flavors danced across her tongue.

It took her a few seconds to remember she wasn’t alone. She glanced up at Theo who was leaning against the counter, watching her. “What?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

His attention made the hairs stand up on her arms. Choosing to ignore him, she spread the jam on the bread with a spoon she found in the drawer next to her, then stacked the cheese and took a bite. She sighed as the tart sweetness melded with the earthy flavors of Camembert.

“Good?” Theo asked.

Amalie sighed in response. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, and while she didn’t want to look like an absolute hog, she was already deciding to go back for seconds even before she finished the first chunk of baguette.

Her eyes flicked up. Theo’s expression was unreadable. “Do you miss it?” she asked, swallowing. Before he could answer, she shook her head. “You probably don’t remember.”

“No, actually. That I do think about.”

Amalie tore off another bite-sized piece of bread. “Can you still try it? Even if it won’t . . . I don’t know, digest?”

Theo shrugged. “I could. If I enjoyed chewing ash.”

She spread the jam. “You can’t taste anything?”

Theo’s lips twitched. “I can taste plenty of things. Just not food.”

Amalie’s cheeks heated. He hadn’t said words that should make her blush, but the way he said it . . .

“You drink. In your room.”

His tongue flicked over his lips. “Absinthe. It has no flavor, but it stings.”

“And you like that?”

“Sometimes.” His voice was steady, casual, but there was a physical shift in the energy in the room. He watched her, his hands going still.

She wet her lips. “What are you looking at?”

He exhaled. “You’ve always done that.”

“Done what?”

He motioned to her eyes. “That squint. Where your right eye gets a little smaller than the left. You do it when you’re ready to go to battle.”

Amalie dropped her eyes to the baguette. You’ve always done that. She wanted to ask since when? But the words died on her tongue. He wouldn’t answer her, and that would hurt more than pretending not to care.

The air in the kitchen felt thicker than the preserves in front of her. Amalie struggled to expand her lungs. He knew things about her.

“Theo!” The kitchen door swung open, and Amalie froze.

Ren wore dark pants with leather boots that laced up his calves. He swept his hair back from his forehead before setting eyes on the two of them. "Well, well. Hope we’re not interrupting.” His lips curled. “Amalie, what a pleasure. With Theo looking so well-fed today, I wasn’t expecting you’d still be with us. I’d love to hear all about your evening.”

Amalie clenched her hands into fists and stepped back from the counter. “Good morning, Ren.” She needed to stay calm. “Theo and I have an agreement.”

Clémentine stepped in behind Ren, her movements predatory despite the flowing skirts of her dress. Her curls tumbled over her shoulders, and she placed one long white finger to her lips, smiling when her amber gaze landed on Amalie. “Please tell. I love games. Especially Theo’s.”

Amalie swallowed against the fear and felt resolve build in her chest. She wasn’t frightened. Not anymore.

They wouldn’t kill her. Try to possess her, yes. Consume her, absolutely. But they would have no reason to take her life if they knew who she truly was. With that knowledge, she no longer imagined escape. Instead, she found herself fantasizing about holding that sword in her hand. Plunging it into their chests.

She glanced down at her hands. She could nearly feel the weight of it.

“Amalie is under my protection while she’s here.” Theo rounded the counter. “Including from myself.”

Clémentine’s expression hardened. “You put too much trust in his restraint.”

Theo stopped next to Amalie, his hip brushing hers. “You should know better than most about my self-control.”

“I didn’t see you leave the castle to feed,” Clémentine snapped. “Do we have other guests I’m not aware of?”

“My evening didn’t progress as smoothly as I would’ve liked,” Theo said coolly. "Would you like me to knock when I leave next time? Wear a sign stating how many hours it's been since my last meal?"

Clémentine's laugh tinkled through the air, and she moved like water across the stone floor. "No need. I can smell it on you." She stopped short of the counter, inhaling deeply before closing her eyes and letting out a satisfied sigh.

Amalie’s heart sped. Could Clémentine smell her blood? Could she sense that Theo had fed on a guardian, not a human?

“It seems Theo’s made his choice. He prefers pain over pleasure. Or maybe it’s possible for them to be the same thing,” Amalie snapped, glaring at Clémentine as Theo tensed next to her.

The vampire’s grin faded. “For now.”

Amalie cocked her head to the side. “Is that how it is? You bide your time, waiting to strike instead of being loyal to your friends?” She’d been thinking of it since the rooftop. When Ren threw his friend into the sunlight. How they’d remained a coven was beyond her. They should have torn each other apart.

Clémentine’s lip curled. “Our loyalty runs deeper than you know.”

“Clearly. A new body in bed every night?—”

Clémentine lunged over the counter, but Ren clamped his arms around her chest, dragging her back just as Theo bore his teeth, shoving Amalie behind him.

“Shh, darling. She’s an ignorant human,” Ren purred, his eyes locked with Amalie’s as he nuzzled Clémentine’s cheek.

“Get off me, Ren.” Clémentine shoved at his arms, but he didn’t let go until she stopped struggling. Clémentine shifted to the end of the counter, glaring at the three of them.

Ren sighed. “While I’ve always enjoyed a bit of female on female action, I don’t think it wise to push her further, Amalie.”

“It wouldn’t be wise for Clémentine to approach my—” Theo caught himself, and Amalie’s breath hitched. My what? She was suddenly desperate to hear what words he’d wanted to end that sentence with.

Ren chuckled. “Researcher? Historian? Quite fond of her after only a day, aren’t we, brother?” His gaze was assessing, and Theo immediately relaxed, moving out from in front of her.

“If you’re going to keep her as a pet, you should at least teach her manners.” Clémentine glared at her, but Amalie didn’t look away.

Ren leaned against the counter. “It was rather offensive. Considering.”

Amalie glanced at Theo. “Considering what?”

Theo wet his lips. “It’s part of our curse.” He turned his head. “Our souls crave eternal connection, but our immortal forms are destined to destroy it.”

Amalie pondered this. “Because you feed.”

“Because we have to kill. And even those we save and love die ,” Clémentine growled. “Perhaps if your lifespan was more than that of a moth you’d understand.”

Amalie swallowed hard. “But you don’t—you can’t love each other?” Her eyes flicked to Theo.

Ren barked a laugh. “We love each other plenty. But we aren’t built to attract other vampires. We aren’t built to bond with them.”

Bond. Amalie hadn’t heard that term before. “But you can bond with humans?”

Ren’s eyes flicked to Theo’s. “Something like that.”

The kitchen door swung open and Etienne strolled in. When he saw the food on the counter, his face lit up. "What are we making this morning?" He looked genuinely curious, oblivious to the tension in the room. "I've always been interested in how humans prepare their snacks."

"A bit pandering, even for you," Theo muttered.

"What? It's interesting." Etienne strolled over and glanced down at the bread and cheese on the cutting board. He nodded appreciatively. "Good choice.”

Ren took another step forward, crossing his arms over his chest. "Perfect timing, Eti. We were just discussing where Theo found his meal last night?—"

“Stop.” A low rumble started deep in Theo’s chest. He shot a glance at Clémentine who was stretching her hands over her head, showing the flat of her stomach. “Both of you.”

Etienne stepped forward, rolling the sleeves of his white linen shirt to his elbows. "Mind if I help?" He glanced up at Amalie through dark lashes, then winked at Theo. Grinning, he picked up a sprig of thyme, stripping the tiny leaves from its stem with practiced fingers. His silver signet ring glinted in the light from the window. “I’ve heard herbs add a brightness to flavors?—”

“Is this what we’re doing? Playing chef?” Theo glowered at Etienne as Amalie pulled her hand away to pinch the small spears between her fingers.

"Not playing. I've always been fascinated by the evolution of human cuisine." Etienne set down the herbs he'd gathered and picked up another leaf, this time tearing off small pieces and placing them neatly in a row along one side of the board before reaching for more. "The flavors, the textures . . . so different from when I lived."

“When was that?” Amalie asked, her interest piqued.

“Second century.”

She blinked, then turned to Theo. “You’re older?” Theo nodded. “How did you meet?”

Etienne cocked his head. “You haven’t told her?”

“Told me what?”

Theo crossed his arms over his chest. “We met at a party.”

Etienne laughed out loud. “Oh. It was definitely that.” He waited for Amalie to spread more cheese, then sprinkled the herbs. "Tell me, what is your favorite dish to prepare?"

Despite herself, Amalie found her lips curling into a smile. If he was attempting to put her at ease, he'd failed miserably, but there was something undeniably charming about Etienne's curiosity. And the way he got under Theo’s skin.

She glanced down at the fresh ingredients spread across the counter. "I suppose it depends on the season. In the summer, I love making ratatouille with vegetables from my garden. And in winter, there's nothing better than boeuf bourguignon."

Etienne’s eyes lit up. "You’re from the south?"

Ren’s eyes narrowed just as Theo’s hand wrapped around her elbow. “Enough.” His voice was low when he spoke. “Unlike the others, she isn't here for entertainment."

"No?" Clémentine purred, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Seems like you’re quite amused.”

Amalie bristled, dropping the preserves over the herbs Etienne had prepared, then allowing Theo to draw her toward the door. Her curiosity ate at her like acid. What about this party? And if vampires didn’t bond with each other, why did Clémentine act like Theo was hers to claim?

He paused, his eyes dark. “I don’t question your escapades.”

“We’re all glad you’ve found good company. We know the last few years have been . . . difficult.” Ren stepped in front of Clémentine. “I think?—”

The door slammed open, and Amalie jumped as Theo threw her again behind his back.

A vampire Amalie didn’t recognize appeared in the doorway, breathless. His coat billowed behind him as he strode into the kitchen, eyes wide with urgency. "We've found another."

Clémentine straightened, her amber eyes flashing. "Where?"

"Mordelles." The man sucked in a haggard breath. “A Guardian. He’s been changed.”