13. Chapter 13

13

Chapter 13

Rowan

I clasp my hands in my lap to stop them from twisting anxiously as Kara speeds away from the Nocturne Lounge. My heart's still racing from the confrontation, but it's the text message that's truly rattled me.

"Mia sends her love."

The words echo in my head, hope and dread tightening my chest.

"We need to tell Mom and Dad." Kara's voice is tight with worry.

I shake my head. "No. Not yet. They'll freak out and probably ground us until we're eighty."

"Ro, this is serious. We were almost attacked by a vampire; there was all that shit with Darick and that Lucien dude…and now this creepy message? We're in over our heads."

She's right, but I can't shake the feeling that involving our parents will only make things worse. "They'll never let us help find Mia if they know what happened tonight."

Kara sighs, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "So, what do we do?"

I chew my lip, thinking. "Gran. We go to Gran."

"You think she'll keep this from Mom and Dad?"

"She understands better than anyone. And she won't flip out like they would."

Kara nods slowly. "Okay. Gran it is."

As we drive toward Gran's house, I can't stop replaying the night's events in my mind. Darick with that other witch, the menacing vampire, Lucien's cryptic words, and now this message about Mia. It's all swirling together, a confusing mess of danger and secrets.

As we pull up to Gran's house, the warm glow from her windows is a beacon of comfort in the night. Despite the late hour, fairy lights twinkle in the garden, casting a soft, magical ambiance over the modern architecture. It's a perfect blend of the mystical and mundane, just like Gran herself.

"You sure about this?" Kara asks, her hand hovering over the car door handle.

I nod, trying to project more confidence than I feel. "Absolutely."

We make our way up the path, the scent of night-blooming jasmine filling the air. Before we can knock, the door swings open, revealing Gran in her silk pajamas, her hair slightly mussed.

Oh no, we've woken her up.

"Girls?" Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but her voice is warm. "What in the world are you doing here at this hour?"

"Hey, Gran," I say, suddenly feeling sheepish. "Sorry to wake you. We, uh…we need to talk."

Gran's eyes narrow slightly, her gaze sharp despite the late hour. She looks from me to Kara, then steps back, ushering us inside.

"Well, don't just stand there letting the moths in. Come on inside."

As we enter, I'm enveloped by the familiar scents of cinnamon and sage. Gran's house always feels like a sanctuary, cozy and magical. Crystal wind chimes tinkle softly near an open window, and I spot her latest spell book open on the coffee table in the living room.

"I'll put on some tea," Gran says, heading toward the kitchen. "Make yourselves comfortable."

Kara and I exchange a glance as we sink into the plush sofa. The weight of the night's events seems to settle more heavily on my shoulders now that we're here. I take a deep breath, trying to figure out where to even begin.

"What do we tell her?" Kara glances at me as we listen to our grandmother bustling about.

"Exactly what happened," I reply. "No sense in hiding anything."

"Hiding what, darling?" Gran is in the doorway, carrying a tray. She heads to the coffee table and sets it down, handing us each a cup of tea before taking a seat.

I take a deep breath, clutching my tea cup for comfort. "Gran, we went to the Nocturne Lounge tonight."

Gran's eyes fly wide, but she doesn't interrupt.

"We thought…we might find information about Mia there," Kara adds, her voice small.

I nod, pushing on. "But things got complicated. We saw Darick there, and then this creepy vampire tried to attack us outside."

"Darick?" Gran's voice is sharp. "What was he doing there?"

I feel my cheeks flush, remembering the sight of him with that other witch yet again. "He was…feeding. From someone else."

Gran's eyes narrow. "I see. And then what happened?"

Kara jumps in, describing Lucien's timely arrival and the tense standoff that followed. As she speaks, I notice Gran's fingers tightening around her cup.

"Lucien Marlowe," she murmurs. "I've been keeping tabs on him."

"Since that first meeting that you took me to with the elders?" I ask.

Gran nods slowly. "When you told me that he seemed ‘off,' I decided to pay more attention to the man. He's not someone to be trifled with, girls."

"There's more," I say, pulling out my phone. I show her the text message about Mia.

Gran's face pales as she reads it. "When did you receive this?"

"Just after we left the Lounge," Kara replies.

Gran stands abruptly, pacing to the window and staring into the darkness beyond. "This is worse than I thought. Girls, I need you to tell me everything Lucien said to you. Every word."

As we recount the conversation, Gran's frown deepens. When we mention Lucien's cryptic comment about family history repeating itself, she freezes.

"He said that exactly?" she asks, her voice tight.

I nod, swallowing hard. "Gran, what's going on? Do you know something about Mia?"

Gran sinks back into her chair, looking suddenly tired. "I'm not sure, but I have suspicions. There's a lot about our family's history that you don't know, girls. Things that have been kept secret for generations."

"What kind of things?" Kara perches on the edge of her seat.

Gran sighs. "It's complicated…and potentially dangerous. But given what's happened tonight, I think it's time you knew the truth." Gran takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine. "Rowan, dear, what do you know about the Bloodbane?"

I shrug, trying to recall the whispered rumors. "It's some kind of vampire disease, right? Makes them allergic to human blood or something?"

"Close, but not quite," Gran says. "The Bloodbane is an ancient curse. It affects certain vampires, making human blood not just unpalatable, but potentially lethal."

Kara frowns. "But vampires need blood to survive. How do they…?"

"That's where it gets complicated," Gran says, her voice lowering. "Most can get by – to an extent – if they drink witch blood. But for each afflicted vampire, there exists a singular witch whose blood can sustain them indefinitely. More than that, it strengthens them, gives them unimaginable power. They call this a ‘blood match'."

The words hit me like a solid right hook. "Gran, are you saying…?"

She nods solemnly. "Since this all began, I've been delving into our most ancient texts, and my suspicions have been confirmed. I believe you, Rowan, are Darick Drake's blood match."

"What the hell?" The words explode out of me before I can stop them. "That's impossible. I hate him!"

"Hate and love are closer than you might think," Gran says, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "But this goes beyond mere emotion. It's a magical bond woven into your very essence."

"But what does that even mean?" Kara asks, glancing between Gran and me.

Gran sighs. "It means they share a connection. They're likely aware of each other's presence, emotions, even thoughts at times. Rowan's blood is the only thing that can truly satisfy Darick's hunger and potentially cure his Bloodbane."

"And Rowan's magic getting stronger?" Kara presses. "Is that part of it, too?"

"Indeed," Gran nods. "The blood match works both ways. Just as Darick gains strength from Rowan's blood, Rowan's magical abilities are enhanced by their connection."

I jump to my feet, unable to sit still any longer. "This is insane. I can't be. I don't want to be Darick's blood match or whatever! He's…he's the enemy!"

"I know it's a lot to take in," Gran says gently. "But denying it won't make it any less true."

"A lot to take in?" I laugh, but it comes out more like a strangled cry. "It's insane! I hate him. I tried to kill him, for crying out loud!"

Gran shrugs and splays her hands. "It is what it is, darling."

"But why me?" I demand, feeling tears prick at my eyes. "Why Darick?"

Gran shrugs. "The Bloodbane is tied into our heritage, Rowan. His, too, I suspect. It's probably what binds you."

Kara looks up at me. "Ro, it kind of makes sense, doesn't it?"

I scowl at her. "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm not on any side," Kara says, holding up her hands. "I'm just trying to understand. Gran, how does this blood match thing even work?"

Gran sets down her cup, folding her hands in her lap. "It's an ancient magic, as old as our family line. The bond forms naturally between certain vampires and witches. It's rare, but when it happens, it's powerful."

"But I don't want it," I insist, crossing my arms. "There has to be a way to break it."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Gran says gently. "This isn't just some spell we can undo. It's threaded into who you are. It's the same for him."

Kara's eyes narrow. "So, what, Rowan and Darick are like…soulmates or something?"

"Oh, my God, Kara! Don't use that word," I groan, covering my face with my hands.

Gran chuckles softly. "Not exactly, dear. But there is a profound bond that can't be denied. Some might say it goes deeper than mere ‘soulmates'."

I drop my hands, glaring at her. "Watch me deny it. I don't care what this…this curse says. I'm not Darick's anything."

"Rowan," Gran says, her voice firm now. "I understand you're upset, but sometimes we must face our reality. This is yours."

I sink back onto the couch, my legs suddenly weak. As much as I want to deny it, I can't ignore the truth that's been staring me in the face. The connection I've felt with Darick, the way my magic strengthens when he's near, the dreams… Kara's right; it all makes a twisted kind of sense now.

As Gran's words sink in, I feel like I'm being torn in two. Part of me is screaming, recoiling at the idea of being permanently bound to Darick. He's a vampire, for God's sake. The enemy. The monster who might have something to do with Mia's disappearance.

But there's another part of me, a tiny voice I don't want to acknowledge, that whispers: What if?

What if this connection is why I felt that spark when we kissed? What if it explains the inexplicable emotions I've been feeling? What if…

No. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the traitorous thoughts. I can't let myself go down that road.

"This is impossible," I say, but my voice lacks conviction. "I don't want this."

Yet even as I speak, I feel that pull again. That awareness of Darick that's been haunting me for weeks. It's stronger now, more defined. Like a fine thread connecting us across the city.

I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart race. Is it fear making it pound so hard? Or something else?

"I- I can feel him," I admit quietly. "Even now, it's like there's this…pull. It's always there." I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart race. "I hate it. I don't want this."

Gran reaches out, placing a comforting hand on my knee. "I know, sweetheart. But acknowledging it is the first step to understanding and controlling it."

Kara looks from me to Gran, her expression earnest. "So, what does this mean exactly? For Rowan's magic and for Darick?"

Gran sighs, settling back in her chair. "The bond between a witch and her blood match vampire is complex. Rowan, you've already noticed your magic growing stronger. This is a direct result of your connection to Darick. As for him, he needs your blood to cure his craving. Perhaps even cure his allergy."

"But that's dangerous, isn't it?" I ask, rubbing my arms to dispel the sudden chill I'm feeling. "If Darick needs my blood to survive…"

"It puts you in a precarious position," Gran nods gravely. "Other vampires might see you as a threat or a valuable commodity. And Darick himself…well, the hunger for a blood match can be overwhelming."

"Great," I mutter. "So I'm basically vampire catnip now."

"It's not all bad," Gran says, a hint of a smile on her lips. "This connection could give you incredible magical power, Rowan. The kind of strength our family hasn't seen in generations. And if you learn to control it, to work with Darick rather than against him, you could be a formidable force."

"But I don't want this," I protest, my voice shaking. "Can't we break it somehow?"

Gran's expression softens. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, dear. This magic is ancient and powerful. It's not something that can be easily undone."

"But there is a way?" I'm hopeful.

"One of you would have to die." Gran's eyes are quietly assessing as she watches my reaction.

"Die?" It feels like the blood has drained from my face.

"That's hectic, Gran!" Kara says. "Isn't there a spell or something?"

Gran shakes her head. "There might have been a chance…before the bond was sealed. Before they—" She stops abruptly.

"Before we what?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Before you made love, Rowan." Gran's voice is gentle. "

Kara makes a choking sound. "You made love to him? A vampire?"

"It wasn't love!" My voice rises.

"You're right," Gran acknowledges. "It was something deeper."

I stare at her in horror. I feel like I'm suffocating, the walls of Gran's cozy living room suddenly closing in on me.

This can't be happening!

"There has to be another way," I insist. "I can't just accept this!"

Gran's eyes are full of sympathy, but her voice is firm. "Rowan, dear, sometimes we must face difficult truths—"

"No!" I shake my head vigorously. "This isn't just difficult, Gran. It's impossible!"

Kara reaches out to touch my arm, but I jerk away. "Ro, maybe if we just take some time to process—"

"Process what?" I say. "That I'm magically bound to a vampire? That my blood is some kind of supernatural drug for him? That I'll never be free?"

The fear and anger swirl inside me. And underneath it all, there's something else – a pull, an attraction I don't want to acknowledge. It only makes me angrier.

"If being free of him means Darick has to die, then I hope he does! Let the sun take him, dammit!"

"I'm afraid that won't be a solution, Rowan." Gran shakes her head. "You're bonded. You'd be left…incomplete. You'd lose your magic; your life source would be drained. We'd watch you fade away before our eyes, sweetheart."

"I don't freaking care, Gran!" The words explode out of me, filled with venom and desperation. And suddenly, it's like a dam has broken inside me. Power surges through my body, wild and uncontrolled.

Before I can stop it, the room around us comes to life. Books fly off shelves, Gran's teacups rattle on their saucers, and the lights flicker ominously. With a deafening crack, a beautiful crystal vase on the mantle shatters into a thousand glittering pieces.

I stare at my hands in horror, feeling the magic tingling at my fingertips. When I look up, Kara's eyes are wide with shock, and Gran… Gran looks deeply troubled.

Shit.

"Rowan, dear," she says, her voice gentle but urgent, "I think it's time we got you some help with these new powers of yours."

I nod numbly, unable to speak. I can't go on like this. I'm out of control, and the scariest thing is…part of me likes it. The power rushing through me feels intoxicating despite the destruction it's causing. And I know, deep down, that it's all tied to Darick.