Page 25 of To Vanquish Darkness

“Do you enjoy swimming?”

Amalie growled and pushed herself into a jog, her feet screaming with each slap against the ground. She caught up to Theo and pushed past him.

“I didn’t say you had to run.”

Amalie ignored him. He might have power from Le Sombre, but she had an iron force of will. When she was a young girl, her mother had called her “Amalie d’Acier,”Amalie of Steel, because once she made up her mind, there was no changing it.

Theo might be faster, but he would not beat her.

“Stop!” Theo commanded, and Amalie pushed ten more strides to prove her point. Her throat and lungs burned as she slowed, gasping for breath.

She braced herself with hands on her thighs and looked up. A thread of gold glinted on the horizon, and in front of it—her eyes widened at the sight. A dark silhouette of spires and stone loomed above her. The wind carried the scent of salt and the sharp calls of seabirds.

Theo stalked forward to stand in front of her. He inspected her, his eyes lingering on the hair clinging to her forehead. She swiped it away.

“You are in love with me.” His eyes bored into her.

Amalie gaped at him. Yes, the castle blooming out of black granite was impressive, but his glamour was losing its effect on her. If he thought that was all it took for a woman to throw herself at him, he was more vain than she’d accused. “I assure you, I am not.”

Theo raised an eyebrow as if he knew exactly how long her eyes had lingered on him while they crossed the flats. “It’s a ruse.” He turned to the arched wooden doors. “While I’m sure you’d never degrade yourself by sleeping with the damned, in this place, you must pretend to be obsessed.”

Amalie wiped at the sweat on her brow, finding her skin gritty. “You said you were taking me to safety.”

“Trust me, this is better than the alternative.”

Amalie scoffed. “Trust you? If this is some sick game you’re playing?—”

“It’s not optional.” Theo turned, his smirk fading. “Everyone past that gate is like me. Equally attuned to the blood coursing through your veins.”

Amalie paled. Theo was dropping her into a nest of vampires? Why would he do that? It seemed he wanted her alivesince he believed she had some knowledge of this relic he sought, so why put her in danger?

Realization struck. She wouldn’t be in danger for long. Once she turned . . . Amalie gazed up at the looming spires.Was this to be her home?

Theo stepped closer, his eyes burning like the line of fire creeping over the horizon. The wind tossed dark tendrils of hair over his eyes. “You know nothing of our kind, but we don’t often cross another’s interests. They will think nothing of you if they believe you singularly smitten.”

Amalie’s gaze flicked to the massive wooden doors cut into the stone wall, then back to Theo. Her stomach twisted. “They will think nothing because this is a regular occurrence? You whip women into a frenzy and ferry them here to please you?”

Theo leaned closer. “Are you in a frenzy?” he whispered, but before Amalie could slap him, he was ten steps ahead of her. His low chuckle brushed past her ears on the breeze.

Obsessed.Smitten.How could she possibly be believable? If she fell in love with a man, he would be kind. Strong but gentle. He wouldn’t tease with cruelty. He wouldn’t order her around and expect her tongue to loll at the opportunity to obey him like a dog obeyed her master.

The clock ticked in her head.She didn’t have much time.

Amalie’s heart dropped to her knees as Theo reached for the bronze handle on the door. “Why not tell them I’ve been turned. Just explain that?—”

Theo’s expression was impassive as he pulled on the handle, and Amalie answered her own question with the information she had. When she finally turned, Theo would be weak. Maybe he already was. He wouldn’t want other vampires to know that. That was what he was trying to tell her. If she wanted to survive, she needed them to believe he was strong. Desirable.You know nothing of our kind.

The door creaked, scraping against the drifted sand, and Amalie followed him through the ancient arch. She paused, running her hand over the carvings on the wood. An oval, tilted. Half light, half dark, connected by a smooth swirl in the center. “This was on your ring.”

Theo paused. “It’s my signet.”

“Yours? Do you—are you in charge here?”

Theo turned. “I want my ring back.”

Amalie glared at his back as she followed him along the cobbled street. The sky was lightening with the rising sun, but its soft pink and orange rays barely penetrated the high walls. Sand collected in the crevices between stones, and signs for shops and public houses hung from iron bars.

A lead weight seemed to settle in her stomach. This was where they lived. Where they brought their prey—men and women like her, manipulated by their beauty and power. How many others had Theo brought here? How many before her had traipsed up this path unwittingly to their death?

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