Page 12 of To Vanquish Darkness

"There’s so much more, Amalie. More I need to show you—to tell you. We were trying to keep you safe?—”

"It’s not possible. As long as those creatures are out there, nobody is safe, Uncle." Amalie’s fingers were numb, and ice seemed to flow through her veins. She hadn't heard Theo—hadn't known he'd even opened the window before he was standing there in her bedroom, his hand over her nose and mouth.

She would be that deadly. And her family was on the other side of the door.

"It's late." Oren cleared his throat. "You're safe. You’re home. That's all that matters for now. We can talk more in the morning." Her uncle took a step away from the door. “You’ll be here in the morning?”

Amalie's jaw worked. She scanned her body, hunting for any abnormalities. Did her stomach hurt? Did her head ache? Was that an indicator that the venom was working?She needed to get out of this house.

Amalie forced her voice to steady. “Of course.” She couldn’t unclench her back molars.

"You can hate us for now, but don't let it last too long,” Maurielle whispered through the door.

As their footsteps retreated, Amalie collapsed onto the bed and gasped for breath, then heaved silent sobs into her rumpled quilt.

7

1836 COUNTRYSIDE TO MORDELLES, FRANCE

When the stairs stopped creaking, Amalie forced herself up. She swiped the tears from her cheeks and clutched the knit blanket as she crept to her window. She ran her hand over the sill, splintering white paint from the frame. A gust, cold and blustery, whipped her hair back, biting against her outstretched arm.

She shivered. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver sheen over the garden below. The ground seemed treacherously far below, but she had no choice. She glanced back at the closed door, imagining Bethany tucked into bed across the hall. She had to protect her, even if it meant isolating herself.

Amalie climbed onto the windowsill, the rough wood scraping against her knees. The wind howled around her, tearing at her clothes. Her fingernails embedded in the soft wood as she fought to keep her balance, her heart jerking in her chest. She murmured a prayer, then lowered herself onto the roof. The tiles were slick, and she slid feetfirst until she latched onto a tree branch. Once she caught her breath, she used the branch as leverage to move to the roof of the shed next to the house, then finally dropped to the ground.

The impact jolted through her bones as she landed, her knees buckling. She steadied herself and sucked in a breath of the cold night air. Amalie turned, sure she’d made enough noise to cut through even her uncle’s snoring, but there was no movement near the cottage.

She crouched and moved through the garden, a dark, tangled maze of clawing branches. The wind whistled through the trees, putting all her senses on high alert. As soon as she passed through the iron gate and reached the street, she broke into a run.

Amalie flew along the country roads, not at all worried about what might be creeping in the shadows. She’d already met the worst.

Mordelles was eerily silent. Shadows stretched and shifted in the dim light, playing tricks on her mind. Every alley seemed to hide a lurking danger, every corner a potential threat. She would’ve scolded herself had she not been face-to-face with a nightmare just moments ago.

She was becoming a nightmare.

Tears stung her eyes as she forced herself forward. There was only one option. She needed Marcel and Olivie to take her life before she turned. She’d stabbed Theo in the heart, and he’d still lived. Once she turned, would it be the same for her? Would she live to kill for eternity?

She couldn’t let that happen.

The town square loomed ahead, and the house she sought stood at the far end. She searched for light from a lamp or candle in the window and raced toward it, her legs burning with exertion, her lungs aching from the cold.

She stumbled up the steps, her hands fumbling for the knocker. The cold metal bit into her skin as she grasped it, lifting and letting it fall with a hollow thump. Seconds stretched intoan eternity as she waited, her ears aching from the wind. She knocked again, pounding with both fists.

The door finally flew away from her, and Amalie scrambled back, nearly tumbling down the steps.

"Amalie?"

Before she could stop him, Marcel charged past the threshold and gripped her arm.

“No, Marcel, you can’t?—”

He yanked her inside and slammed the door behind them. “Amalie, what?—”

“You have to kill me!” Amalie pressed herself against the door, her palms flat against the polished wood. She couldn't keep her tears at bay, even though it made her look weak. Marcel stared at her, and the physical world around her began to invade her senses. The faint smell of smoke and the flicker of light from the fire burning in the room past the entry.

“Please. Explain why I should kill you?” Marcel raised an eyebrow.

Amalie turned her head, pointing at the marks on her neck. Marcel hissed air through his teeth. There was a creak on the stairs ahead of her. Amalie’s eyes snapped up.Olivie.

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