7. Amber

My alarm ringsbright and early the next morning, and despite how tired I am, I force myself out of bed and down to the gym.

As Damien promised, I'm not allowed in.

So, unwilling to throw in the towel, I make my way to the roof. Going up there is a better plan than the gym, anyway. Because my magic is still weak after the events of last night, and since drinking the potion, I've learned that exposing myself to sunlight is the best way to rejuvenate it.

I stand there for a moment, taking in the beauty of the morning sun splashing golden hues across the rooftop. Then, after a few minutes, I envision the sun's energy as a brilliant light, turn my face to the sky, and coax my magic to the surface.

It doesn't work.

It's like trying to catch smoke. Intangible and elusive. I might as well be reaching into a void.

An hour quickly becomes two, then three, then four. But no matter how hard I try, it seems like my magic—along with the goddess who gifted it to me—has abandoned me.

"Trouble with your training?" a familiar voice asks from behind me.

My heart leaps, and when I turn around, there she is.

Morgan, striding toward me with a knowing look on her face. She's accompanied by Damien and a guy who looks like he's in his mid-twenties, who I definitely haven't seen around here before. With his dark curls and the unmistakably haunted look in his eyes, I'm sure I'd remember if I had.

"Morgan!" I call out, and I rush toward her, throwing my arms around her in a hug I didn't realize I needed until now.

"Hi." She steps back to look at me, and her gaze is intense, like she's trying to read my soul. "I'm sorry it took so long to get back. We hit a few snags along the way."

"We?" I glance at the guy with her, curious what he has to do with all of this.

"This is Blaze," she introduces him, her voice wavering when she says his name. "He's also a witch. He's been helping me track down some answers about figuring out how to get that potion out of you."

Blaze nods, a guarded look in his eyes. "I've heard a lot about you," he says with an accent—barely there—that I can't quite place.

"All good things, I hope," I reply, trying to muster a smile despite the hollow feeling in my chest where my magic should be.

Damien makes no effort to join the conversation. He just stands there like a statue, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the city skyline.

"So, what did you find?" I ask, forcing myself to focus on Morgan instead of on Damien. This is important, and I can't risk being distracted by His Royal Broodiness.

Morgan glances at Blaze, who pulls a blood-red quill out of his bag.

"We think I can use this to transfer that potion out of you and into the compass," he says.

I eye the quill cautiously. There's something powerfully dangerous about it. Something that urges me to be careful.

"Use it how?" I ask.

"I'm a blood witch." He swallows, as if what's coming next is hard to say. "Like Morgan."

"Wow." I look at her, but she refuses to meet my eyes, so I turn to Blaze again. "You can also see the future?"

He flinches, as if I said something wrong.

"My magic is different than Morgan's," he explains, snapping back into focus. "I can use my blood like ink to do spells."

Apparently not wanting to explain it further, he removes a coin from his pocket, pricks his finger with the tip of the quill, and uses his blood to write a word on the coin's surface.

Levitas.

The coin glows slightly. Then it comes to life, floating, Blaze's eyes locked on it as he guides it in an intricate dance in the space between us.

It's a cool trick. Mesmerizing.

But it's not anywhere close to as impressive as when vampires use air magic.

"He can do loads of different spells," Morgan jumps in, as if she knows exactly what I'm thinking. "He can unlock things, and light them up… and he can heal."

There it is.

"Is that what you want to do to me?" I ask Blaze. "Use your magic on me to heal me?"

"Not exactly." He lets the coin fall back into his hand and puts it back in his pocket. "We learned another spell. One I can use to transfer the magic out of you and into the compass. But first, you need to know—my magic can be dangerous. I've only used it on people twice. And the first time, she wasn't…" Pain flashes across his eyes, like a storm about to break. "Her mind wasn't strong enough to handle it."

"What do you mean?" I ask, not liking the sound of that.

"She was human," he says quickly, as if coming to her defense by pointing humanity out as a weakness. "But the second person I used it on was supernatural. And it worked."

I glance at Morgan, counting on her to back him up.

"Blaze didn't have the Crimson Quill when he did the spell on the human," she says, rushing to his defense. "The quill was what we were searching for. Well, I suppose Blaze was also what I was searching for, but then we had to search for the quill together. Anyway, that's a story for another time. Because the important thing is that we have the quill now. And with it, Blaze's magic is stronger. He can control it way better than he could before. This spell's going to work."

"Are you sure?" I want to believe her, but it's a lot to process at once.

Especially because she seems so nervous. Jittery, even.

I've never seen this side of her before.

"My visions led me to Blaze, and to helping him find the quill," she says, stronger now. "Plus, the keeper of the quill gave us a message. A spell. One designed to extract and infuse."

Right after she says it, a ray of sunlight breaks through the clouds. It warms me, reminding me of the magic I've lost, and of the poison eating away at my light, threatening to consume it until it's extinguished completely.

I'm running out of time.

Blaze and his Crimson Quill might be the only way for me to get my magic back.

"Do it." I hold out my arm out and pull up my sleeve, baring my skin to him.

Skin that's noticeably paler than ever.

Damien doesn't react. Not even a flinch. All he does is reach into his jacket pocket and pull out the Astral Compass.

"We're going to need this," he says simply.

I want to scream at him. Shake him to snap him back into focus, even if that means he'll yell at me for coming up to the roof to try harnessing my magic after he insisted I take the day off.

I do none of those things.

"You're okay with me saying yes to this?" I ask instead. "You don't want me to think about it more?"

"You've made it clear these past few weeks that you're going to do what you want, when you want, whether I think it's a good idea or not," he says. "Plus, we need that potion out of you. Every day it's still there makes you weaker, and therefore, a liability to the clan. Best to get it over with now instead of prolonging it further."

His words stun me into silence.

Specifically, the part where he implied that my existence is putting everyone at risk.

Because he's right. He knows it, I know it, Morgan knows it, and even Blaze seems to know it.

"Agreed," I say, and unable to look at Damien for a second longer, I return my focus to Blaze. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just hold onto the compass, breathe through it, and try not to move," he says, and I frown, since I was expecting something more complicated than that.

Something not as foreboding.

"It might hurt a bit," Morgan adds.

"Yeah," I say. "I got that."

Damien holds the compass out to me.

I take it from him, trying to "accidentally" brush my fingers against his as I do.

He's faster than me, pulling back before I have a chance.

You'd think that touching me would give him a disease that's fatal to vampires.

He refuses to look at me. He won't open the duskberry bond, either.

So, I focus on the compass. It's easy to do, because it's warm and light, like magic itself.

But the moment it settles into my palm, the amethyst dims. Like my touch is making it sad.

First, the token was mad at me for shoving it into a drawer. Now, the compass is upset because I'm about to infuse it with a dark potion.

I've got to snap out of it and stop feeling bad for inanimate objects.

"Ready?" Blaze asks, his dagger out, poised above his palm.

"Ready." I wrap my fingers around the compass and grip it tightly, bracing myself for whatever this spell is going to throw at me.

I look at Damien for encouragement, but get nothing.

Unsurprising.

"You've got this. It'll be over before you know it," Morgan says, and I'm so relieved she's back in the city. Now more than ever. I really need a friend my age around here. "But also, just as a precaution," she adds, "It might not hurt to do this sitting down."