To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 32

32

1836 SERVON, FRANCE

A malie's palms grew clammy as she struggled to pull the shirt over her head.

“What is that?” Ren snatched her wrist, and Amalie’s heart jumped into her throat. No. The marks. She hadn’t checked to see if the cuts left by Theo’s fangs had healed.

Stupid. Ren was going to see that she’d been bitten—that they’d tried to hide it. The fabric obscured her vision. She tried to yank her hand from his grip.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Yes, I—” Amalie froze as her head popped free and the shirt pooled around her shoulders. She looked down. Ren wasn’t staring at the place where Theo had fed. He pointed to a small, gray—nearly midnight blue—faded blotch on the underside of her arm. Higher than her wrist, but not quite to her elbow.

“A strange looking bruise.”

Amalie blinked. “I spilled ink,” she murmured. “It stained my skin.” Ren let go of her arm, and she shoved her arms into the sleeves of the shirt.

How had she not noticed a mark like that? She had used ink, but she hadn’t spilled any. Ren seemed convinced by her story, but Amalie’s skin prickled.

"Theo would be quite displeased to know you've wandered off." Ren took a small step back, but was still too close for comfort. He was powerful in the coven. When Theo wasn’t present, it seemed the other vampires deferred to him. But he wouldn’t cross Theo’s claim, would he?

She acknowledged him coolly, suppressing the tremor in her voice. "Theo understands I have my own priorities.”

He smiled, his teeth glaringly white. “I’m curious, were you lying to me when you said you didn’t plan on leaving, or did something I said change your mind?”

Amalie scrambled for an excuse, but her mind scattered. If Ren discovered she knew the name he’d given, she'd be as good as dead—or worse.

Ren circled her like a predator, his gray eyes flashing with amusement.

Amalie found her part. Angry. Sick of being controlled. "He left me there. After a few hours of twiddling my thumbs, I decided I had plenty of personal research. I’ve moved on to other projects."

"Don’t lie to me. I’ve sensed your affection, Amalie.”

“You can hardly expect me to withstand his glamour,” she snapped. “With him gone, I found more clarity of mind.”

Ren regarded her. “These lands are dangerous for a delicate thing like yourself.”

“They shouldn’t be.” Amalie glanced back at the flats. “You said you were going to be sleeping.”

“Then I guess we both told little white lies.” Ren took a step closer and leaned in. “Theo may be more compelling in person, but he's not the only one who can offer protection."

"Protection is the last thing I want from Theo. I've had enough of his games."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Your agreement seemed rather . . . binding."

Amalie thought back to their conversation in the kitchen.

We aren’t meant to bond with them.

But you can bond with humans?

“Theo said I could leave when I wanted.”

"Kind of him. But now you don’t have his protection."

Amalie clenched her jaw. “Are you telling me I need it? I know what to look for.”

Ren chuckled. "Knowing is only half the battle. Like you mentioned, fighting the glamour isn’t always possible."

Amalie’s eyes narrowed. Odd that she’d never felt anything when Ren was close. She’d felt more pull from Etienne in the kitchen than from him now alone in the woods. “Have you never used yours on me?”

Ren’s expression hardened. “I haven’t felt the need.” He clenched his hands into fists, and Amalie’s eyes snagged on his fingers. There was nothing there. All the members of Theo’s coven wore their signet ring. Had he taken his off? Or had she never noticed that he didn’t have one?

“Lucky me.” Amalie started off through the trees.

“I think I’ve proven you can’t outrun me.”

Amalie threw up her hands. “Don’t care. Follow me if you want, Ren.”

“Where are you going?”

She shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to watch and find out.” Panic surged through her. Where was she going? She couldn’t head to Uncle Oren’s farm, not with Ren on her heels. She would have to convince him. Prove that she was doing as she said, getting away from Theo.

Amalie took a sharp turn north into the trees, heading in the opposite direction of Mordelles.

“Interesting.” Ren’s footsteps sounded behind her.

"Please stop talking.”

"I understand you're upset, but I have my orders. I can’t leave you unprotected."

"Oh, please. Like you're so loyal." Amalie wheeled on him. “A moment ago, you were threatening me. Seems like you pick and choose the orders you follow.”

Ren studied her. "You don't know me as well as you'd like to think. You'd be surprised what lengths I'd go to to get what I want." He stepped closer. The air around him seemed to hum with energy. "You're lucky Theo found you first."

Amalie drew a breath. "Go ahead and rat me out to Theo. Tell him to come for me. I’d love to tell him all about our little conversation."

She didn’t look back to see if Ren was following until she reached the market square of Valenciennes. Despite the late hour, there were still a few people milling about, finishing their supper. There was a group of men laughing loudly near the fountain. She angled past them, then ducked into a narrow alleyway. If Ren insisted on following her, she wouldn't make it easy for him.

The cobblestone streets glistened with recent rain, the air cool against Amalie’s cheeks. Her footsteps echoed off the stone buildings lining each side of the street, casting long shadows in the moonlight. She glanced over her shoulder, her heart leaping into her throat as Ren turned the corner.

Amalie wound through streets and alleys, weaving back and forth until even she wasn't sure which direction they were headed. Finally, she burst out onto a street lined with shops and cafés.

This was ridiculous. She needed to go home. She was hours in the wrong direction with no hope of losing her tail. Had Theo found her uncle? Was he trying to keep her family safe like he’d said? The idea of staying there in town for the night not knowing felt like drinking straight poison.

Why hadn’t Theo told her? Why hadn’t he let her come?

Anger welled within her, but she tamped it down. Now wasn’t the time. She needed to stay focused.

Amalie spun in the dimly lit alley, heart pounding as she weighed her options. She wouldn’t be able to travel tonight. Ren was right about one thing, the roads between towns were dangerous. Each route carried its own risks, plus, traveling at night could lead Ren or other vampires straight to her family. She couldn't let that happen.

She would find a bed for the night. Leave in the morning.

Just as Amalie made it to the street, a voice called out from behind her. "Amalie?"

She spun, then blinked at the figure striding toward her. “Marcel?” He was dressed well. Black trousers, an ivory cotton shirt, and a waistcoat. What was he doing there? The Pourfendeurs rarely left their radius, and this was too far north.

He pulled her close to the wall and glanced behind him. “There’s someone following you.” Amalie eyes locked onto his hand on her arm. He quickly pulled it away.

She swallowed and stepped back. “I’m aware.”

Marcel studied her. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He scanned the street. “There was another attack.”

“I know.” She spoke too soon, realizing they probably weren’t talking about the same thing if he was there. Ren had said the attack was in Mordelles. A lump formed in her throat. “Have you—do you know if my sister Bethany is alright?”

Marcel shrugged. “I haven’t been to the country since the last time . . .” His eyes dropped.

The last time. When they’d walked past her uncle’s gate together. “Marcel?—”

“You didn’t come for us. You’re still . . . you?”

Amalie drew a breath. “I am.” She felt guilty, even though it was the truth. She was human. She was herself. But she also very much wasn’t. How was she supposed to explain it?

Marcel studied her a moment. “I don’t believe you.” He nodded curtly and turned toward town.

“Marcel.” Amalie rushed after him, and though heads turned her way, she didn’t slow. “Marcel, I can prove it to you,” she hissed. “In the morning. I’ll step out into the sunlight?—”

Marcel frowned. "That would hardly be definitive proof."

Amalie pursed her lips. “Vampires can’t go in sunlight. How would that not be enough?” She kept her own rebuttal to herself. Theo had been capable of standing in full sunlight without turning to ash. She’d seen it with her own two eyes.

Marcel crossed his arms, his expression cold. "I need to find Olivie."

He stalked away from her, and Amalie stood in the street, defeated. She needed to talk to him. To tell him what she knew. But if he wasn’t going to listen, fine.

She clenched her fists, not even glancing back to spot Ren, and rounded a corner, her gaze catching on a wooden sign swinging in the breeze. The image of a horse and rider was painted on the weathered surface, and warm light spilled out from the windows below. An inn.

Amalie slowed, her senses on high alert as she approached the door. He was watching. Ren would know that she’d come here for the night, and there wouldn’t be wards or enchantments around these rooms. But she had no choice. She needed a place to rest until morning.

As she reached for the door handle, a flicker of movement caught her eye, and she turned, her heart leaping into her throat. But it was only a cat, its eyes glowing in the lamplight as it darted across the street.

She stepped into the inn, the warmth and light enveloping her like a cozy blanket. The interior was as expected. Wooden furniture, a roaring fireplace, and candles casting a soft, golden glow through the quaint room.

A middle-aged man stood with a ledger book open in front of him. His hair was graying at the temples. “Bonsoir.”

Amalie nodded. “I’d like a room for the night if you have one.” Her voice was steady despite the fatigue tugging at her limbs.

The innkeeper nodded, sliding the ledger toward her. "Sign here, mademoiselle. Payment is required upfront."

Amalie froze. Money. How had she forgotten money? “I—” Her mind spun, searching for any possible solution. She couldn’t sleep in the streets, but she had nothing of value on her person.

“I didn’t realize you’d already gone in.” Ren strode through the door of the inn, raising an eyebrow as he approached the counter. "Here you are.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch, placing it on the counter. The innkeeper's eyes widened, and he quickly counted out the appropriate number of coins before sliding the ledger back toward Amalie.

It felt as if the air going in and out of her lungs traveled through a pinhole as she scrawled her name on the line. He was there. He was watching. She hated that she was desperate enough to take his money.

"Glad I could help." Ren's voice was like velvet as he turned and strode out of the inn.

Amalie snatched the key from the innkeeper's outstretched hand, her stomach churning. She rushed out of the room and ascended the staircase, the wooden steps groaning under her weight. The dim lighting from wall-mounted sconces cast long, flickering shadows along the walls. She reached a narrow hallway, and the flames sputtered as she passed.

Her room was at the end of the corridor, the number eleven etched into the wood of the door. She frowned, realizing she’d been looking for Theo’s signet.

She slid the iron key into the lock and twisted, the mechanism clicking in protest before the door swung open. The room was simple. A wooden bed with a thick quilt on top, a washbasin with a pitcher of water beside it, and a small open-air window with heavy shutters.

Amalie locked the door behind her, then crossed the room to check the latch on the window. Satisfied it was secure, she poured water into the basin and splashed her face. The cold shocked her senses, bringing her mind back into focus.

How she wished for Henriette. For a warm bath and clean clothes.

Amalie couldn’t bring herself to undress. If Ren came in during the night, she wanted to be ready.

She slid under the quilt and lay on her back, staring at the wooden beams above her. It was a relief to lie down, but she didn’t see how she could sleep. Not knowing she was being watched.

Although, Theo had been guarding her at the castle, and she didn’t mind that as much as she thought she would. There she’d been a priority. Here, she was nobody.

She turned on her side, trying not to think about Ren finding a way through her window. He would wait. Theo had asked him to watch and wait.

As she pulled the quilt higher over her shoulders, Amalie stilled. Had he asked? It was what Ren had told her, but since she’d been taken to the abbey, Theo had never once asked for Ren’s help. Or any of his coven’s help for that matter. He’d been careful to keep her away from the other vampires. If he truly thought she would leave, wouldn’t he have sent Henriette? Or one of the other serving girls?

A shiver passed through her. If Theo hadn’t asked Ren . . . then why had he been at the door of her room?