Jeremiah curses, catching my attention. If not worse, his wounds are just as bad as Hikari’s. Both squirm under inspection, crying out when even the lightest touch ventures too close to open wounds.
Jeremiah tenses when Holland shuffles over to his side.
Nestling himself beneath his former lover, Holland places Jeremiah’s head on his lap and attempts to soothe his pain. He thumbs circles on his forehead, rubbing away ashy skin with moisture from Jeremiah’s hair.
I witness the exact moment Jeremiah’s pain is replaced with his desire to love Holland again. I watch as the anger he was holding diminishes, and his eyes soften. The witches have brought tragedy to Darkhaven, and finding something as special as love bloom in the wake of their devastation offers me a renewed hope that I too will be okay.
But in this moment of clarity, I remember something I never should have forgotten.
“Where is Will?” I ask, instinctively searching the dark foyer with my gaze like he might emerge from the shadows in some great surprise. I know he is not there, but still, I look for him, hoping he will prove me wrong.
The room falls silent, and as I slowly return my gaze to the wounded, I fear what the vampires will say next.
“Ava…” Jeremiah says, breathless. He grunts when he shifts to sit upright, but Holland holds him down. Aiding him, Amicia rests her hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder. He protests momentarily but quickly gives up.
“Where is he?” I say again, more forcefully.
“I don’t know,” Jeremiah says calmly.
“We were separated,” Hikari adds.
Time slows, the room spinning. I search through my memory, reliving the last moment I saw Will. He willingly charged head-on into the battle, intending to aid both Jeremiah and Hikari. He risked his life to help them, and they just abandoned him the first chance they could?
“What do you mean? What happened? Where is he?” I ask, voice squeaking. I refuse to believe they would do that. They might not have been on friendly terms, but he was clearly an ally. I cannot believe they would simply leave him behind.
No one responds, further fueling my anger.
“We have to find him,” I say. “He needs our help.”
“No,” Amicia says firmly. She does not wait for the others to respond. With one word, she silences everyone but me.
“We have to!” I shout.
She narrows her gaze, angry with my disobedience, but I do not care. After seeing what happened to Jeremiah and Hikari, I need to know that Will is safe, that he made it out and is caring for his wounds somewhere in the woods. Maybe he ventured into Darkhaven. Maybe he was not hurt as badly and he is already leaving town. Wherever he is, I need to know that he is okay, and I need him to know how grateful I am for his help.
“We do not even know if he is alive, Ava,” Amicia says, and my blood runs cold. I cannot hear the truth of her words. My mind is too clouded by my desperation to save Will from a horrific death—or worse, from a life of torture at the hands of his enemies. If he did not escape, then he needs to be rescued. I have to help him. Can’t they see that?
“We do not know that,” I whisper.
“I will not risk sending even one more vampire to face the witches,” Amicia says. “In our weakened state, they are far too great a threat.”
“But—”
“Enough!” Amicia shouts. She stands upright, and in her fury, she silences me, utterly stealing the breath from my lungs. “I will not discuss this anymore. The answer is no. Will is on his own.”
I look to Jasik, hoping he can see the truth in my wisdom. Yes, we are weak, but we do not need to attack the witches. We can maneuver in darkness, in silence. We can find him and bring him here. There does not need to be confrontation or bloodshed. We are far smarter than the witches can ever claim to be. We can save him. They just have to want it as badly as I do.
Jasik shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Ava, but we just can’t. We would not survive.”
My eyes swell, and my heart aches. My throat dries, and a knot forms in my chest, threatening to steal the very beat of my heart.
“I cannot believe you all. Will helped me when no one else would,” I say pointedly. “He saved me when the witches attacked us in the forest. He refused to leave the battle when Jeremiah and Hikari were left behind. And you just abandon him now?”
“While I appreciate his efforts, he chose to act willingly,” Amicia says. “We have no ties to him, nor he to us. I will not bind our lives to his mistakes.”
“So you will just let him die?” I ask, wanting her to say it aloud. I want her to admit she is no different from the very monsters we just escaped.
“He made his choice the moment he decided to stay,” Amicia says.
“You mean the moment he stayed and helped your vampires?” I clarify.
“Yes. He was not asked to help us, and I will not be manipulated into giving my life—or their lives. He owed us nothing. We owe him the same.”
I shake my head, wanting so desperately to express my disbelief, but words are just out of reach. Understanding I will never be able to convince them that Will is worth saving, I stand, offering one final glance at the vampires I thought I knew, and I leave the room.
Having escaped to my bedroom in the manor, I now sit with my legs bent to my chest, and I am holding my knees.
I am in the shower. I already washed away the day’s events, so now I sit on the tile shower floor and watch the water swirl around the drain. I scrubbed myself clean, not stopping until the water ran clear and my skin was pink, inflamed. Now raw, I ache everywhere, and the scorching heat of waterfall lava pouring down upon me is not helping. I wanted to ease the pain and still the aches. I wanted to burn the vision of Will from my mind.
But I can’t.
Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. Will stares at me, and he is as sad as I am that the vampires refuse him aid. I understand they feel no obligation to help this stranger, but after everything that has happened, we could use another ally. At the very least, Jeremiah and Hikari should feel responsible. I hate that the thought crosses my mind. I am grateful they are safe, and I would never forgive myself if we lost either one of them. But their luck should not be Will’s downfall. All I have ever wanted is to do what is right, but I am beginning to realize I cannot live in this world and have morals.
I burrow my face into the crevice between my knees and close my eyes. Only after I have cried my final tears and my eyes are puffy and heavy do I finally stand, turn off the now-cold water, and dry.
When I am dressed, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The heat from my shower has coated the glass, and the steam distorts my image. I do not know how long I stand here, staring at a girl I do not recognize, but finally, after my feet are numb, I swipe away the vision of her with my palm.
When I clear the mess and see myself clearly for the first time, I become upset. I hate the picture I see. My eyes are sunken, my frame taut. My skin is pale and yellow, and my lips are cracked and dry. My irises are a muddled brown, and everything from my hair to my bones just hurts. I did not even know it was possible to feel pain so deeply, as if it is rooted in my very soul. I wonder if I will ever get better or if this agony will just become part of my daily life. Eventually, I will not even remember what it was like to feel…alive.