Page 14 of To Vanquish Darkness

“We need answers.” Marcel’s eyes locked onto hers. “If Vallon was willing to split his power to turn you, there must be a reason.”

Amalie shook her head. “He killed my mother?—”

“But he didn’t kill you. Why?” Marcel took another step toward her.

“I don’t know. None of this makes any sense. I—” She flinched as metal flashed, then gasped as her hands dropped free.

“You need to find him.” Marcel loomed over her.

Amalie’s eyes widened. “No. I can’t. I don’t have time?—”

“You must use the time you have,” Marcel snapped.

The silence that followed cooled her skin like mist. Amalie's stomach plummeted to her knees. She'd sat in close to a hundred meetings with Marcel, Olivie, and other members of the Pourfendeurs. They had never preached relocation. They'd never fought for only their towns and villages to be free of the Shadow. They'd fought for total eradication. The Pourfendeurs wanted safety for the region—for the world.

If they couldn’t vanquish, the Pourfendeurs were impotent.

But there was nowhere she could go where she wouldn't hurt anyone. Whether tonight or in a few days, she would turn. She would seek out victims and lure them in with the same intoxicating pull she'd felt from Theo in her bedroom. Then she would drain their blood and leave them cold and pale on the ground to rot.

Amalie's heart thumped against her ribs.You don't know half of what you think you know.Those had been Theo's words. What if it didn’t happen like she thought? What if the venom didn’t take over her mind? What if she kept her sensibilities?

“I can’t take the risk,” she whispered, thinking of Bethany sleeping in her bed. Her cousins in the bedroom next to her.

"What risk?" Olivie pushed off the wall. "Is one more vampire going to make a difference? If we haven't been vanquishing them like we thought, then they're all still out there. We don't have any other ideas at the moment unless you know of some way to stop their hearts."

Marcel scoffed. "They don't have hearts."

Amalie frowned. Hadn't Theo's skin been warm to the touch? Wasn’t his heart beating against her back?

Marcel considered, wheels spinning behind his eyes. Amalie wondered if it was already working. If she already had a glamour. If she was manipulating them to preserve her life without knowing it.

But the idea ofnotbeing stabbed or shot to death against the door had planted itself and taken root. What if this was a blessing, not a curse? What if she could use the time she had? What if this was the key they'd been waiting for all along?

"I can find him," Amalie said with far more confidence than she felt. After they’d attacked him, there was no way Theo Vallon was going to show up along his typical routes. She would have to search like they had months ago and hope a vampire happened to walk past her on a dark street that would lead her to him. A chill slipped down her spine. "I'll go tonight. I'll leave you word in the city. If you don't hear from me by the end of next week, you can assume . . ." She trailed off.

Olivie’s face paled, and Amalie read her thoughts. Amalie knew where they met. She knew where both of them lived.

Olivie’s features snapped into focus. Her dark waves framed her face, and a splotch of pink bloomed across her cheeks. This was her friend. Marcel was her leader, but Olivie was her confidant. The person she laughed with and complained to. She was almost as close to her as Bethany.

Not anymore.The risk wasn't small.

Marcel stepped back and looked at her from under a hooded brow. "Go."

"Marcel—"

"Go."

Amalie choked on a sob as she whirled and pulled on the handle. The door flew open, the wind whipping against herforehead. A drizzle had started while she'd been inside, and the droplets chilled her instantly. She bolted down the path, not looking back. Not because she doubted Marcel or Olivie but because she doubted herself.What was she doing? Where would she go?

Amalie’s breath came in ragged gasps as she darted through the narrow, cobbled streets of the village, her shoes slipping on the rain-slick stones. This town had once been a place of comfort but now felt like a labyrinth of shadow. The narrow alleys twisted and turned, each one looking the same in the dim light of the torches even though she knew these passages like the back of her hand. The rain soaked through her thin shawl and clung to her skin. Her hair, once neatly pinned, hung in damp tendrils around her face. She needed shelter, and while she knew most everyone in town, she was done putting anyone at risk.

Which meant she had to leave. Survive the night and see what the morning brought her. If she was lucid, she could begin her search for the vampires then. If she wasn't . . .

The rain began to hammer against her skin, and Amalie pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, though it did little to ward off the chill. Her trousers clung to her legs, making each step feel like she was slogging through mud. The air around her thickened as she reached the edge of town, leaving the warm glow of windows to fade behind her.

She didn't recognize the road until she passed the gnarled olive tree on the right, and her internal orientation reset. She was on the north side of town. The Ferrier farmhouse was up the lane on the right, and if she kept on up the path, there would be an old garden shed and?—

The back of her neck prickled, and Amalie spun. She pushed her matted hair out of her eyes and blinked into the darkness. It was laughable to think she could see anything in the gray glow of the moon filtering through the clouds overhead, andyet she stood stock-still searching the night. Nothing. Her teeth chattered as she continued on, huddling deeper into herself.

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