“If you remove our vampire halves, what’s left?” Will asks, finally speaking. He sounds…intrigued, but I must be misreading his emotions. He has to be as frightened as I am right now. The binding on my wrists is making it difficult to think clearly. It digs deeper into my flesh, and soon it will cut through skin.
“La bruja,” Abuela says.
I swallow the knot that forms in my throat and glance at Will. He eyes me curiously, not understanding my grandmother.
“The witch,” I whisper.
“To complete this spell, I must link the unfortunates to another. Sacrifices, step forward,” Abuela orders.
Mamá walks to me, never breaking my gaze when she says, “I will link with my daughter.”
“Y el chico?” Abuela asks.
No one steps forward to save Will, and for a brief moment, I fear what that will mean. I don’t understand this link or its purpose, but I’m certain not having one at all means an untimely death when it comes time to perform the spell.
After several seconds pass, and after I’ve silently pleaded with just about every witch chaining me to this place, someone steps forward. I’m not surprised by her desire to help, because not even a half hour ago, Will risked his life in an attempt to save hers.
“Liv, are you sure?” Mamá asks. “Do you understand what this means?”
Liv nods but doesn’t look at Will or me. Perhaps her shame is getting the best of her. It may be petty, but I hope that feeling haunts her every day for the rest of her life.
“We must hurry,” Abuela says. “The sun is rising.”
I stare at the sky. In the distance, it grows lighter. I watch as the sun begins to rise, the world erupting in a fury of light as the darkness is cast away. Every second that passes, I see the blanket of sunlight cascading the land, encroaching far too close to my uncovered skin.
Will fights against his restraints as he too watches the sun rise. I still have so many questions for him, not just about what we are and what our magic can do, but also, I want to know about him. What is his story? Was his former coven as messed up as mine is? How long has he been searching for another hybrid to spend his days with? Does he regret meeting me? And as the sun begins to rise in the distance, I fear I will never have answers to the many questions circling my mind.
“What if the spell doesn’t work?” I cry out, hoping someone, anyone will answer me. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I do know vampires can’t survive sunlight. We all know what will happen when that sunlight graces my skin.
“Entonces morirás,” Abuela says, utterly emotionless at the thought of losing her only grandchild.
“Mamá!” I scream. “Stop this! Stop it now!”
But it’s too late. My mother is ignoring me, choosing to focus instead on murdering her daughter.
The witches have closed in on us, and they link hands now. They’re so close. If I weren’t frozen in place, held by invisible, magical restraints, I could save myself. But every time I try to break free, the bindings slice into my flesh. Blood drips in steady streams down my hands, splattering onto the icy ground.
A pool of blood sits at Will’s feet. He stares into the distance, ignoring the witches completely as he watches the sunrise. I can’t see his face, but I’m sure it displays my level of fear. If the witches’ magic fails, we will combust, our lives ending in a blazing inferno. That’s not exactly the way I want to go.
The crunch of frozen snow under steps distracts me from watching Will, and I jerk my head around to see who’s approaching. Mamá is close enough now to touch me, but she does not. Liv is walking closer to Will but at a much more cautionary pace. She doesn’t trust him, but she offers her life up as a link. Does she truly feel such guilt?
I look into the forest, hoping to see the familiar set of crimson irises I so desperately need right now, but I know they will not be there. The vampires will not venture out with the sun rising. That’s certain death. If Will and I plan to escape, we must do so on our own.
“Extiende tus brazos, hija,” Mamá says.
I turn back toward her, confused.
“Hm? What?” I say.
“Hold out your arms,” she repeats.
I frown and glance down. My arms are dangling in front of me, blood dripping down my skin, coating my hands and nails. When I glance up at her, her demeanor has changed. She is angry, aggressive.
“Give me your arms, or die from the sun,” Mamá orders.
Eyes wide with fear, I nod and hold them up to her. I swallow hard and gnaw on my lower lip. I don’t dare look at Will. Either he will comply, or he will die. Either way, I do not want to watch what is about to happen to us.
The witches chant in Latin, and I struggle to understand them. It’s been so long since I’ve even thought about the Latin language, and I’m too rusty to focus on this foreign spell.
The four of us—Mamá, Liv, Will, and I—are the only beings at the center of the witches’ circle. The altar is a few feet away from me, and it is adorned with many things I recognize and some I do not. Relics to represent the elements are placed at the four corners of the altar top, and in the center, a bright, golden sphere represents the sun. In a jar, I see something black, a tarry substance that makes my skin crawl. I’ve never seen it before, so I don’t know its purpose.
Mamá begins to chant as well, but I ignore her too. The blanket of sunlight is close now, and the world is becoming alight. I have only minutes left to live, so with shaky legs and a sputtering heart, I take this time to close my eyes and clear my mind. I try not to cry or beg. I don’t want to be weakened in these final moments.
Ignoring the witches’ banter, I try to be at peace with my life and with my decisions that led me here. I may have upset the vampires and made mistakes, but I can walk into the flames of death with a clear conscience. The witches never deserved my respect or my loyalty, but helping them in their times of need was the right thing to do. Sometimes we have to cast aside our differences for the greater good, even if that means our own downfall.
Mamá uses my distraction to her benefit, and with my arms held out before me, she finishes her spell, linking our souls by way of the sun’s strength. The great ball of fire in the sky is more powerful than even the moon, and I don’t need to understand their spell to know they are committing an irreversible act against Will and me.
“My will be done,” Mamá says.
A cold chill works its way down my spine as I slowly turn to look at my mother. I remember this moment. It has haunted me since the night I foresaw it. Even so, I am not prepared for the moment a sudden flash of silver radiates across my vision. The blade is brought down, slicing through my flesh, leaving a large crimson gash in its wake.
The moment the blade slashes my forearm, I jolt back to reality. I scream as Mamá digs her fingers into my deeper flesh. When I open my eyes, I watch through blurred vision as she squeezes her free hand into a tight grasp. Droplets of her blood drip into my open body, snaking its way into my veins.
I shriek, engulfed in pain so great it feels as though my soul is being ripped from my body.
I’m falling, yanking myself free from her grasp. I’m on my knees, my lungs burning, tears streaming down my cheeks. My throat is coarse as I howl at the sun, begging for the moon. Chest heaving, I’m not able to catch my breath.