To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 34

34

1824 BLOIS, FRANCE

R achel's footsteps echoed against the cobblestones, her breath coming in quick bursts as she wove through the narrow streets. The city around her buzzed with life despite the gloomy weather—merchants calling out their wares, the clatter of horse-drawn carriages, the scent of burgundy stew wafting from homes nearby. She scanned the faces of the people passing by the abbey, searching for any sign of Florent.

She hadn't seen him for six days. Each day she'd woken, reaching for him, only to find the bed cold and empty. That wasn't unusual. He often left early or arrived late, but the fact that he hadn’t come at all niggled at her. Making her desperate enough to trek into town after harvesting green beans since dawn.

Her mind wandered back to the girls at home, and her chest tightened. She'd noticed Maurielle's side-long glances whenever she disappeared into her room at odd hours. She'd noticed the way her sister-in-law held back when she spoke. Things had been tense for weeks now, but she didn’t know how to rewind.

Rachel's heart twisted as she thought back to the night before. She'd been reading a book in the parlor when Bethany had burst in, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I had a bad dream," she said. "There was a monster. It was—" She'd paused when she saw Rachel's face, and her eyes had widened.

Rachel had pulled her into her lap, stroking her hair and whispering that it was nothing but a nightmare. That she was safe. But Bethany had wriggled from her grasp, calling out for Maurielle.

The next instant, Maurielle had appeared, her eyes tired but soft. Rachel had looked away as her husband’s wife carried Bethany upstairs and tucked her back into bed, humming the same lullaby their own mother had sung to them when they were children.

Rachel's face burned with shame. She'd been so consumed with her own search for answers that she'd neglected the girls. She'd ignored her brother and his family.

Rachel quickened her pace, her eyes darting from side to side. She had to find Florent. She had to know what he was hiding from her. She needed to be at peace.

Ignoring the questioning glances from a few passersby, Rachel turned down a side street and found herself in a quieter part of the city. The buildings here were older, their stone facades weathered and crumbling. She passed a small chapel with its heavy wooden door ajar, the sound of chanting drifting from within.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance. Sandy hair. A distinctive gait. She'd know it anywhere. Her breath caught, and a rush of adrenaline washed over her like a wave. It was him. It had to be.

She quickened her pace, her eyes locked on Florent as he wove through the crowd. The noise of the city faded into the background until it was nothing but a dull hum in her ears. She had to get closer. She had to see his face.

Rachel's pulse quickened as she rounded the corner, her eyes scanning the street ahead. She caught sight of him again, but his head was turned away from her. For a moment, her heart jumped. She thought he might look back. That his heart might tell him she was there in the street behind him.

He didn't turn. Instead, he slipped into a narrow alley, disappearing from view.

Rachel hesitated, her heart pounding against her ribs. Was he meeting someone? She drew a shaky breath, her mind racing. She couldn't back down now. She had to know. If there was someone else . . .

Her throat constricted. She couldn’t handle that, could she? Ignoring the voice in her head warning her to be cautious, Rachel hurried forward and pressed herself against the wall at the mouth of the alley. She peered around the corner, her breath catching in her throat.

Florent stood with his back to her, his shoulders tense. He was speaking to someone, but Rachel couldn't see who. She strained to hear, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

"—don't understand the risks." Florent's voice was low and angry, the words barely audible.

A man's voice responded, sharp and biting. "I'm not the one who's careless."

Rachel's stomach clenched. She wanted to step forward, to demand answers, but she stayed where she was, her fingers gripping the rough stone of the building. What was he talking about? What risks?

Florent's voice rose, his words echoing off the walls of the alley. “I have a chance, Paul. I’m going to take it.”

Rachel's chest tightened as the man's response was lost in the wind. She bit her lip, her mind racing. What were they planning? And why did Florent seem so desperate? Was he planning to leave without her?

Her legs trembled with the urge to move, to confront him, but she forced herself to stay put. She knew he would be angry. She couldn't risk him pushing her away again.

She gasped as a man stormed around the corner, pulling his hat onto his head. Rachel pressed her back against the brick and held her breath until he was at least ten paces away. After drawing a few breaths, she clenched her fists and strode into the shadowed alley.

That time, Florent turned.

Rachel stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. "Florent?"

His eyes narrowed as he took her in. When he recognized her, his jaw tightened, his eyes burning like coals.

"Rachel, what in the hell are you doing here?" His voice was laced with irritation. "Do you think this is a game? Showing up unannounced and sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?"

Rachel flinched, her eyes widening. He’d asked her not to bother him in the city. She looked down at her feet, the weight of his words pressing on her shoulders. "I—I'm sorry, I just—" Her voice cracked, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

Florent's eyes bored into her, his nostrils flaring. He didn't move, and Rachel's pulse quickened. She couldn't bear to see him like this, so distant and angry. It was tearing her apart.

She had to do something. Tell him the truth.

Rachel swallowed hard, the taste of fear and regret bitter on her tongue. "I couldn't stand it any longer." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Was this a good idea? He could laugh in her face and tell her to leave. She held her breath, praying she'd made the right decision. She couldn't stop herself. She stepped forward, her legs shaking as she locked her eyes on Florent's. "Why have you been so distant, Florent?"

She reached out, touching his arm, but he jerked away, his eyes wild. Rachel's heart twisted in her chest, the pain like a knife. "I can't live like this." Her voice cracked, and she felt tears well in her eyes. "It's tearing me apart. Every morning I wake and remember that you were absent the night before. I know nothing of what you’re doing when I’m not there, and the girls and I are leaving in less than a week. I don’t?—"

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep her heart from spilling out like a cracked egg. Florent's jaw tightened. Rachel forced her eyes to his. "I know you’re hurting, and I want to help you, Florent. Whatever it takes. Please, let me help you. Let me help us .”

Florent's expression twisted, his eyes flicking over her face. He didn't move, but Rachel could see the conflict in his eyes. He was angry, but there was something else there too. A softness, a flicker of the man she'd fallen in love with. She held her breath, praying it wasn't just her imagination.

Florent's eyes softened, and Rachel's heart skipped a beat. There. She hadn't imagined it. She took a step forward, her fingers trembling as she reached for his hand.

Florent's eyes locked onto hers, and Rachel's pulse quickened. He didn't pull away this time. He didn't reach for her, but it was a small victory, and she was clinging to it.

Florent's pupils dilated, and he took a step forward, his chest brushing against hers. "You're sure?" His voice was rough, and a shiver ran down Rachel's spine. She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

Florent's fingers tightened around her wrists, and Rachel's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't look away, couldn't breathe. She was suspended in that moment, the world fading away.

She pressed her palms against his chest, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it. Florent's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and Rachel's eyes fluttered shut. She leaned into him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, the scent of his skin filling her lungs.

This was air. This was life. The way his body felt against hers, the way his breath tickled her ear. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, and she let out a shuddering breath. She didn't want to ruin the moment, but she had to know. "Why, Florent?" She drew a deep breath, her body trembling. "Why have you been distant? I'm trying to be patient, but this has been—" Her voice cracked, and she pressed her lips together. "I've been tearing myself apart.”

Florent gripped her tighter. "It’s not as simple as all that."

“Then explain it to me.”

“You wouldn’t understand—I don’t want you to understand.”

Rachel pulled back, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Florent cut her off. "You have no idea what you're asking for. What you're offering." He stepped closer, his breath hot on her face. "This isn't a game, Rachel. This is life and death."

Rachel's heart pounded in her chest, and she forced herself to meet his gaze. "I know that." Her voice was steady, despite the fear coursing through her veins. "I'm not a child, Florent. I understand magic holds risks. But I also know what I want. I know what I need."

Florent's eyes darkened, and he shook his head. "You don't know what you're saying." His voice was a low growl, and Rachel's breath hitched.

"I do." She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his cheek. "I know what I want." She leaned in, her lips grazing his ear. "I want you."

Florent's jaw clenched, and Rachel's heart raced. He was going to push her away. He was going to tell her to leave, to forget about him, to?—

“What do you feel? When you close your eyes and send your thoughts deep within you.”

Rachel frowned. The question was so strange, she wasn’t sure how to answer. “I feel many things.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Close your eyes, Rachel. Sink into yourself. What do you feel?”

Rachel did as he asked, but how to put it into words? Her thoughts raced, making it difficult to focus.

“Breathe.” Florent ran his hand over her back.

Rachel inhaled and imagined herself dropping into the river, her body sinking into the soft mud and river rock. “I feel warm. I feel . . . tight. Like there’s something lodged against my spine. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Is it cool? Dark?”

Rachel’s brow knit together. “I don’t know. It’s just there. A knot I should unravel, but don’t know how.”

Florent smoothed her brow with his thumb. "Good. Well done.”

Rachel’s eyes fluttered open. What had she done to deserve such praise?

He pursed his lips. “There is a way."

Rachel's heart skipped a beat, and she pulled back, her eyes wide. "What?"

Florent's eyes were dark, his expression pained. "There is a way to solidify what we have. To make it permanent. To give me back my power." Florent's jaw tightened, and he looked away.

Rachel brushed her fingers over his arm. "Tell me."

Florent's eyes met hers, and Rachel's breath caught in her throat. There was something in his gaze—something dark and dangerous. But there was also something else. Something that made her heart ache.

Florent’s voice was low when he spoke. "There's a ceremony.”

Rachel nodded. She wanted Florent. Not just as a secret. “Show me what to do.”