7. Chapter 7

7

Chapter 7

Rowan

I stare at the tall figure in horror, his voice ringing in my ears. A voice I would know anywhere.

No! No, it's not possible!

The vampire's ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a jolt of recognition. It's him . The voice in my head. The one who's been invading my thoughts.

A fucking vampire!

And he's here, attacking us during Mia's Starlight Vigil.

Rage bubbles up inside me, hot and fierce.

How dare he?

How dare he intrude on this sacred moment? My fingers tingle with the urge to lash out, to make him pay for this violation.

"You!" I choke out, pointing a shaking finger at him. He doesn't respond, doesn't say anything. I gather what little magical power I possess, desperately reaching for anything that might help. The air around me crackles with energy, and I feel a surge of…something. It's not much, but it's all I have.

"You bastard!" With a cry of fury, I thrust my hands forward, directing all my anger and grief toward the vampire. Blue sparks fly from my fingertips, arcing through the air towards him.

But he doesn't move. He just…stands there, staring at me with an expression of utter shock on his face. My pathetic excuse for a spell hits him square in the chest, and he barely flinches.

I take in his appearance, my eyes raking over him. He's tall and lean, dressed entirely in black. A fitted shirt hugs his broad shoulders beneath a snug black armored vest that tapers to a narrow waist. His face is all sharp angles and shadows, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw. Thick gold hair sweeps back from a broad forehead. And those alarming blue eyes seem to glow, fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

Damn it.

Why did the voice in my head have to belong to someone who looks like that ?

And a fucking vampire!

My spell fizzles out, leaving nothing but a faint scorch mark on his vest. The vampire blinks, looking down at his chest and then back at me. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" he drawls, his voice rich and deep. It's the same voice I've been hearing in my mind, but now it's tinged with amusement. "I've had bug bites that packed more of a punch."

Fury explodes in my chest. How dare he mock me? How dare he stand there, looking so smug and unaffected, while my family grieves?

"Shut up!" I snarl, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "You don't get to joke about this. You and your kind are monsters! You took her!"

The vampire's smirk falters, confusion flickering across his face. "Took who? What are you talking about?"

I laugh, a harsh, bitter sound. "Don't play dumb. You vampires did it. And now you're here to what? Finish the job? Take the rest of us?"

He takes a step toward me, his brow furrowed. "Listen, I don't know what you're—"

"Stay back!" I shout, raising my hands again. More sparks dance between my fingers, but they're weaker this time, barely visible. Useless . Just like always.

The vampire stops, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not here to hurt anyone. We came to stop—"

"Liar!" I cut him off. My voice breaks, and I hate the weakness in it. "You're all liars and killers. Kidnappers! And now you're ruining her vigil. How much more are you going to take from us?"

Something flashes in his eyes – is it pity? The thought makes me want to scream.

"Look, I don't know—"

"I said shut up!" I yell, my voice raw with emotion. I try to summon more magic, anything to drive him away, but nothing happens. My power is spent, leaving me feeling hollow and useless.

He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he can, a shout rings out across the clearing.

"Darick! We need you over here!"

Darick? So…evil has a name.

Not that I give a damn either way. He's the enemy. He needs to pay.

Darick's head snaps around, his attention drawn to the ongoing chaos around us. For a moment, I'd almost forgotten about the battle raging in our sacred grove.

He looks back at me, conflict clear on his face. "This isn't over," he says, his voice low and intense. "We need to figure this out." He gestures between us, presumably referring to our mental connection.

"Figure this out?" I'm pretty sure my mouth hangs open. We're in the middle of a battle, and he wants to figure this out? "You can't be serious!? Your bloodsucking friends are attacking my family!"

Before Darick can respond, a blast of energy ripples through the clearing. The air crackles with power, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I know this magic. I've felt it my whole life.

Gran.

I spin around to see my grandmother standing tall and regal a few feet away from me. Her hair whips around her face like a silver halo, and her eyes blaze with an otherworldly light. She raises her hands, and suddenly, the earth seems to tremble. I feel like an idiot for thinking she needed me to protect her.

"Enough!" Her voice booms, echoing through the trees. A wave of pure magical force erupts from her fingertips, sweeping across the clearing like a tidal wave.

Vampires are thrown back, tumbling through the air like rag dolls. Some crash into trees with sickening thuds, while others scramble to regain their footing. I catch a glimpse of Darick's face – a mixture of awe and alarm – before he disappears into the chaos of the battle.

A perverse part of me wants to chase after him, to demand answers, but that would be madness. What I should want is to see his lifeless body lying on the ground. If nothing else, it would put an end to the maddening voice in my head.

The fighting intensifies around us, and I feel hands grabbing me, pulling me back.

"Rowan!" It's Kara, her face streaked with dirt and what looks like blood. "Stay close!" As she says it, I see my father emerge from the shimmering magical light, my mother beside him.

"She's here!" my mother gasps. Within moments, my family forms a tight circle around me, their backs facing me. They know I'm defenseless. Mom and Dad stand together, their hands raised as they cast spells in rapid succession. Kara's fingers fly through the air, weaving intricate patterns of magic that shimmer and spark.

And me? I stand in the middle, useless as always.

The air is thick with magic now. Spells crisscross the clearing like fireworks, lighting up the night sky. Vampires snarl and lunge, their fangs glinting. Witches chant and gesture, their voices rising in a crescendo of power.

But I can't focus on any of it. My mind keeps replaying that moment with Darick. His voice, so familiar in my head, now matched to a face that's infuriatingly handsome. The shock in his eyes when he saw me. The strange recognition.

What the hell is going on?

A vampire lunges at us, and I flinch back instinctively. But Kara's there in an instant, her spell hitting the attacker square in the chest. He flies backward, howling in pain.

"Rowan, snap out of it!" Kara shouts, her eyes wild. "We need you!"

Need me? For what? To accidentally turn someone's hair blue? To summon a swarm of butterflies instead of fireballs?

But I try anyway. I close my eyes, reaching deep inside myself for that elusive well of power. I feel it there, just out of reach, like always. Frustration bubbles up inside me, hot and bitter.

Come on . Just this once. Please .

I open my eyes and thrust my hands forward, willing something, anything, to happen. For a moment, nothing does. Then, to my utter shock, a burst of blue energy shoots from my fingertips. It's not much – barely more than the sparks I managed earlier – but it's something .

The energy hits a nearby vampire, sending him stumbling back a few steps. He shakes his head, more annoyed than hurt, but it's enough of a distraction for Dad to finish him off with a more powerful spell.

"That's it, Ro!" Dad calls, a note of pride in his voice. "Keep it up!"

But I can't. I try again and again, but nothing happens. The tiny surge of power is gone as quickly as it came, leaving me empty and drained.

Just my luck. My magic sucks.

Yet, all the while, my mind keeps drifting back to that bastard vampire. To the sound of his voice. To the intensity of his gaze when he looked at me.

A scream pierces the air, jolting me back to reality. One of the witches from another coven is on the ground, a vampire looming over her. Without thinking, I start to run toward her, but Kara grabs my arm.

"Stay here!" she orders, her grip like iron. "You'll just get yourself killed!"

She's right, of course. What could I possibly do to help? I'm not a fighter. I'm not even a proper witch. I'm just…Rowan. Useless, powerless Rowan.

The battle rages on around us, a confusing mess of shouts, spells, and snarls. I do all I can to help my family – just because my magic won't work consistently doesn't mean I can't do some thing. A vampire shoots past, then stumbles as I hurl a rock at him, catching him square in the head.

Gotcha!

Dad winks at me as he shoots a fireball at the creature, turning him to ash. I grin at him, then spin to where Gran and Mom are facing down half a dozen of the bloodsuckers. The pair are formidable as they dispatch leering vamps, flinging arcs of light, and blazing bolts with alarming accuracy.

It doesn't take long for the numbers to dwindle. I don't know what the bastards were planning, but I think they bit off more than they could chew.

The crash of battle slowly fades, replaced by an eerie silence punctuated only by the occasional groan of pain or rustle of movement. I blink, my ears ringing in the sudden quiet. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, to make sense of the carnage around us.

Our sacred grove, once a place of peace and reverence, now looks like a war zone. The grass is scorched and torn, trees splintered and uprooted. The air is thick with the acrid smell of smoke and something else…something metallic and sickly sweet.

Blood. Vampire blood.

I scan the clearing, my heart in my throat. Witches are scattered about, some helping the injured, others slumped against trees, catching their breath. I see faces twisted in pain, hear soft whimpers, and muttered healing spells. But as I take stock, a wave of relief washes over me.

We're alive. All of us.

"Rowan!" My mother's voice snaps me back to reality. She's at my side in an instant, her hands fluttering over me, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did they touch you?"

I shake my head, still dazed. "I'm fine, Mom. I'm okay."

She pulls me into a fierce hug, and I let myself sink into her embrace for a moment. Over her shoulder, I see Dad and Kara moving among the other witches, offering help where they can. Gran stands at the edge of the clearing, her eyes closed in concentration; from the snatches of words that I pick up, she's weaving protective wards around us.

As Mom releases me, my gaze falls on the bodies littering the ground. Vampires, their pale skin now ashen in death. Some are clearly victims of our magic – their bodies charred or contorted in unnatural ways. Some simply mounds of dust.

But others…

I take a step closer, my curiosity overriding my revulsion. These vampires look different. Their chests are… mangled . Torn open.

"What the hell?" I mutter, crouching down for a closer look.

"Rowan, don't!" Mom grabs my arm, pulling me back. "Don't touch them. We don't know…"

Her voice trails off as she, too, notices the strange wounds. Her brow furrows in confusion.

"Lake," she calls, her voice tight. "You need to see this."

Dad jogs over, his face grim. He takes one look at the bodies and swears under his breath.

"What did this?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't magic, was it?"

Dad shakes his head slowly. "No. This was… something else."

A presence looms over me, and I glance up to see our High Priestess towering over me, her brow furrowed.

"It looks like they turned on each other." Her tone is contemplative.

"But why would they do that?" Marina steps up beside her, squinting down at a fallen vampire.

But none of it makes sense. None of it explains the carnage before us.

As the others debate, my mind wanders back to him . To Darick. I scan the bodies, half expecting – hoping? – to see his face among them. But he's not there. Of course he's not. He probably fled the moment Gran unleashed her power.

The coward.

And yet… I can't shake the memory of his face. The shock in his eyes when he saw me. The way he seemed to want to talk.

"Rowan?" Kara's voice breaks through my thoughts. She's standing beside me, her face etched with concern. "Are you okay? You look a little…out of it."

I force a smile, hoping it doesn't look as fake as it feels. "I'm fine. Just… processing, I guess."

Kara nods, but I can tell she's not convinced. "It's okay to be shaken up, you know. What happened here…it's not normal. Even for us."

I laugh, a short, bitter sound. "When has anything in my life ever been normal?"

She doesn't respond to that, just squeezes my arm gently. We stand there in silence for a moment, watching as the other witches begin the process of cleaning up, of trying to restore some semblance of order to our desecrated grove.

He's one of them!

The realization that the voice in my head belongs to a vampire still has me reeling. My stomach churns with disgust and…something else I can't quite name.

How could this happen? Why me?

The thought of having one of them inside my mind makes my skin crawl. There's no way I can tell anyone about this – they'd think I've lost it completely. But I know I have to do something. I can't have the enemy in my head. The very idea makes me want to claw my own brain out.

I'm so lost in my spiraling thoughts that I almost miss the shift in conversation around me until Seraphina's voice, sharp and authoritative, cuts through my internal panic. And her words cut my thoughts short.

"How did they know we were here?"