Page 112 of To Vanquish Darkness

Etienne nodded. "We'll check."

"I know where they are if they didn't stay." Theo's voice was raw, slurred, but she could understand him. The sound of him clawed at her insides, leaving open wounds.

She gritted her teeth and pushed into the garden. Etienne, Theo, and Clémentine followed.

It was exactly as they'd left it. Calm. Peaceful. She scanned for Bethany or the girls, for Uncle Oren or Aunt Maurielle, but nobody waited in the shadows near the back gate.

Amalie was about to open her mouth when something flickered in her peripheral vision. Her eyes narrowed, staring at something fluttering on the front door.

"That's what it looked like," Etienne whispered. "The note on the gate."

53

1836 COUNTRYSIDE BEYOND MORDELLES, FRANCE

Amalie slung her satchel over her shoulder and tore the note from the dagger that held it in place, then yanked the blade from the wood. Words were scrawled on the paper, but she needed more light. She pushed into the house and strode down the hall to her uncle's study. He'd put out the candle, but she remembered where he kept his matches. Setting the note, her satchel, and the sword on the desk, she found them and struck a flame, then protected it with her hand while she crossed the room and lit the wick in the oil lamp.

She tamped out the match, leaving it to smolder, and strode back to the desk. Etienne helped Theo to a chair while Clémentine trailed her hand over the spines of books on her uncle’s shelves.

Wish I could have seen you in action. Helena says it's a sight to behold. I do hope you enjoyed yourself. -M

P.S. Your family is being cared for. Do join us when you have a moment.

Amalie read the words again, then retraced the letters a third time as if that would fill the pit opening up in her stomach. Theo was right. Marx had played her like a fiddle. She couldn’t tell if it stung more or less knowing she’d wanted to be played.

She wanted vengeance. He gave it to her. But she hadn’t recognized the cost.

"Well?" Etienne's voice was soft.

"She has them," Amalie snapped.

"Of course she does," Theo grunted.

Amalie whirled. "Don't, Theo. I don't need—" She crumpled the note in her hand.This is not a gift, Amalie. This is a flaxen cord.Amalie fell back against the desk, allowing it to hold her weight. Bethany, Matilde, and Ghislain. They were guardians, and they were now in the hands of vampires. Vampires that Theo hated, or worse, that he feared.

Theo hunched over his knees. "I didn't mean?—"

"I know what you meant." She struggled against the lump swelling in her throat. "I have to go," she whispered. She didn't give any of them a chance to speak before snatching her satchel and the sword from the desk and bolting into the hall.

She stormed into the kitchen, throwing whatever supplies she could find in with her extra clothes. A tin of sardines, the last bit of sausage and aged Comté, and a handful of dried figs.

She’d seen the sword at the river, and could still feel the pull south. That journey would take at least three days on foot. She’d have to find water on the way. Amalie strode to the front door, her arm still aching where the sword had cut.

“Wait.” Theo’s voice sounded behind her, but she didn’t turn.

She strode through the still-open door into the garden.

“Amalie, stop.” Theo gripped her elbow, and she yanked her arm away from him. This time he didn’t back down. He pressed forward until he was there in front of her, his hands pinning her arms to her side.

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” She struggled against him, turning her head and refusing to look at him.

Theo didn’t speak, his chest rising and falling against hers as she fought against his warmth, his scent.

Amalie began to shake, her grip on the sword faltering. “Theo?—”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness.”

Her stomach dropped to her knees. “It’s true, then? What Ren said?” Her neck began to ache. She didn’t need to ask the question. She’d known it was true the second she’d looked in his eyes.

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