I open my eyes, letting the vision of Holland before me blur.
“Incendia,” I say again. My voice is soft, but my intention is powerful.
Still, nothing happens.
Defeated, I sigh, slouching over, relinquishing my hold on my magic. It dissipates, escaping back into my body, nestling itself inside. I sink into my hands, staring at the floor.
“Don’t give up, Ava,” Holland says. He shimmies toward me and rests his hand atop my own.
I look up at him. “I don’t think this is going to work,” I admit.
“Well, it won’t with that attitude,” he says pointedly.
I shake my head. “This just doesn’t feel the same. This magic, whatever it is, feels different. It doesn’t feel like one singular element.”
Holland sits back, resting on his palms. With his arms outstretched behind him, he eyes me curiously, a funny look on his face. He’s deep in thought, contemplating my predicament just like I should be.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Holland says.
“Isn’t what?” I ask.
“Just one element.”
Chapter Seven
I kick the snow at my feet, thinking about Holland’s words. I should be focusing on patrolling the woods, especially since I’m hunting alone tonight. But I can’t. Even the sounds of the forest have fallen mute. All I can hear are his words, and they loop endlessly in my mind.
Maybe it’s not just one element.
I suppose that makes sense. After all, a spirit witch has access to all five elements, and maybe this magic is a culmination of them all. But what does that mean? What kind of power is that? What happens when all five elements blend into one power? Is this what happens when spirit becomes physical?
I sigh. There’s still so much I don’t know, don’t understand. Will I ever have a handle on this new life? It seems like answers come with more questions.
I scan my surroundings, hoping to find a reasonable distraction, but the woods are devoid of life. It seems I’m the only restless soul out tonight.
I imagine the rest of Darkhaven is already lost in a deep sleep, and with the sun soon to rise, the vampires are finding their way home. I wasted too much time training with Malik and calling my magic with Holland. I should have hunted the moment the sun set. We’ve spent far too many hours pretending I’ll get a handle on this, and I’m still no closer to understanding what’s happening to me. Even though I try to convince myself otherwise, I feel like a lost cause.
I shake away the thought and reach for my cross necklace. It’s cool to my touch. The silver metal sparkles, shimmering against my pale skin. I tuck it beneath my shirt, shivering as it cascades against my collarbone. Though I’m elated to know I can once again wear this cross, I know it comes at a price. To be worthy of its protection, I forfeited the one tool that gave me the confidence to vanquish whatever demons come my way.
I feel empty without my stake. It wasn’t simply a weapon; it was an extension of my soul. Bound together with my magic, the silver metal tore through the flesh of my enemies. With it by my side, I never feared what lurked in the shadows. Now I’m surrounded by darkness, ever searching for my stake’s guiding light.
I find myself walking closer to my former coven and farther from my new home. The vampires are busying themselves with their daily lives, and even without stalking them, I know the witches are struggling to find Liv. Stuck in the middle, I seem to be the only one out of place. I’m seeking guidance and finding silence.
Everyone has a plan, a place. Amicia says jump, and the vampires ask how high. She says we will not help the witches, and the vampires don’t object. Meanwhile, I’m haunted so severely by my decision to forsake the witches, my regret is seeping into my dreams. I’m having nightmares that feel so real, I almost believe I should warn the others about the vampire I met.
I’ve been restless since I woke, a dark, ominous cloud hanging over me, threatening to clench the very life from my chest. The clouds hang low in the sky tonight, making it almost impossible to see clearly.
The air is heavy with mist, and it’s snowing softly. The tiny, crystallized droplets are almost too small to see. They’re more of an annoyance than anything else. The flakes cluster to my eyelashes and cling to my loose hair. I push away strands that have caked around my eyes and try to shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
“It’s all in your head, Ava,” I say aloud. I’m barely talking to myself at this point. I’m wasting time, fighting the inevitable. Going back to the manor means going to bed, and I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to sleep. When I close my eyes, I see his, and I’m not prepared for another encounter.
Snow blankets the earth, sending a rush of energy through me. I don’t feel the cold, but my mind knows no better. I remember what it was like to be human—to feel the cold, the heat. Strangely, my senses are heightened, but only in certain ways. In other ways, I’m hardened to the elements.
Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to connect with my magic. If it is a culmination of spirit, which is the ultimate elemental control, then I need to harness what it means to be human, to be mortal.
I exhale slowly and then let a quick burst of air fill my lungs. Tapping into the elements seems like an easy task—after all, I’m surrounded by nature. Air is everywhere and in everything. With earth, I can create fire. With fire, I can melt snow into water. With the four elements accounted for, I turn to spirit.
I don’t miss the irony in my most innate element causing me the most trouble. Before my transition, I enjoyed tapping into spirit. I would venture to the astral plane and relish in dreams of the future. Never once did I see my death or what awaits me after it claimed my soul. I didn’t foresee losing my family or turning to the vampires for help.
Now when I think of spirit, I think of visions so terrifyingly real, I can barely close my eyes long enough to blink.
I kick at the ground, sending a spray of fresh snow cascading before me. It’s not easy taking out my frustration on such a yielding subject. Sometimes I wonder if rogues are psychic. They always seem to avoid me during the hunts when I can really use a distraction.
Just as I consider turning back and calling it a night, something catches my attention. It’s brief in time, a quick flash of danger that alerts my senses to his presence. He’s too far to touch, but a sensation in my gut grows. It gnaws at me, warning me that I am not alone.
Something else is stalking these woods tonight.
I take a few steps closer, squinting through my frozen lashes. I need to draw closer, if only to ensure there really is cause to worry. Am I being hunted, or am I so distracted by my predicament that I can’t think clearly?
The wind rustles dead brush, and with it, the howling sound of air scraping against wood permeates around me. It’s distracting, and my gaze darts to the snow-covered mound before me.
Quickly, I leap over it, landing several feet on the other side. The moment my weight slams down, the ground grunts its protest. The crunch of snow radiates through my boots. My knees ache at the impact, and I run my fingertips along the snow as I crouch down.
I can feel him. The snow speaks to me, sending shock waves to my fingers every time he moves. The beauty of the elements is its connection. Everything meets, and with that connection, the world speaks to me as a hunter. It makes being a predator much easier, and on a night when the sun is soon to rise, I’ll take every advantage I can get.