Page 30 of A Touch of Darkness

“I don’t know!” I shout, not caring, throwing my hands up in frustration. “I don’t know what to think anymore! For all I know,youcould have done it!” I don’t mean the words. I’m pissed. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I’m fucking terrified.

But I don’t mean it.

The accusation hangs in the air, sharp and venomous. His jaw tightens, and I see something flicker in his eyes—pain, maybe, or anger, or both.

“Is that what you really believe?” he says, his tone cold but controlled. “That I would harm her? Harm you?”

“I don’t know what to believe!” I shout again, my voice breaking this time. “All I know is that she’s dead, and someone is saying vampires killed her. And you—you—stand here, acting like you’re above it all, like you’re somehow different. But you’re not, are you?” I pause, trying to collect myself, knowing I need to calm down but finding it nearly impossible to find it within myself to be anything other than fucking angry. “She said Lara’s death is just the beginning. Everything’s connected, Professor Draedon. And I hear her, I hear Lara’s voice. In my head.”

He stares at me, his mouth pressing into a thin line. I can tell he's trying to make sense of my words, weighing them, figuring out whether this is some kind of delusion. But I know what I hear. I know what I feel. “Professor, I swear it’s her voice. She’s speaking to me. It’s not just some dream or?—”

He steps forward, his expression softening. “Lara’s voice, you say?” His tone is measured, cautious. He knows something I don’t. I can see it in his eyes, the way he watches me.

I nod, desperate for him to understand, for him to help me make sense of it. “Yes. I’m not crazy. She's still here somehow. Or I guess she isn’t here, because the cops said she’s dead…” I trail off. “But I’m hearing her. She told me not to trust Isabel. She said that everything I thought was wrong, that I’m being lied to. But I don’t know who to trust. I don’t know who to trust anymore. I can’t even trust myself. I feel like I’m officially going insane.”

He studies me in silence. His eyes don’t leave mine, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something that will make it all better. But instead, his gaze softens, and he sighs.

“Vampires didn’t kill your sister. I can bet my life on that. Yes, there are vampires who feed on humans, who drain their lifeforce. But they aren’t here. Not in Blackthorne, not oncampus, not in those woods. The vampires around us are tame. They are humane. My people didn’t do this to your sister.”

He pauses and runs his fingers through his shoulder-length hair.

“You wanted to hear it from me, and you have. I am certain my kind did not bring any harm to Lara. If I am wrong, I will take all my words back. I’ll apologize profusely on behalf of my kind. But I’d bet my immortality on your sister’s disappearance, her death, on something much darker.”

I look at him, unable to even form words. Everything presses down on me.

“This… hearing voices—it’s part of your gift, Sylvie.” His voice is quiet, but firm. "It’s not a curse, though it can feel like one. And this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Not for you."

I shake my head, confusion clouding my thoughts. “What do you mean? What is happening to me? Why can I hear her, why is she still here?”

He pauses before speaking again, his gaze penetrating. “It’s because you’re not just any regular person. You’re part of something bigger, Sylvie. Something ancient. You’re born into this.”

The words land like a slap, and I feel my heart skip a beat as I throw my head backward in complete annoyance. “You’re not making any sense! What does that even mean?”

His expression darkens, and he steps closer, lowering his voice. “The prophecy, Sylvie.”

I stare at him, searching for some clue in his eyes. "What prophecy? What are you talking about?"

Lucian takes a deep breath and lowers his voice even further, like he’s about to tell me something no one else should hear. “The prophecy speaks of a hunter, born of twins, who will hold the power to tip the scales of fate. This is part of what I have been studying for ages. One twin is destined to fight, to protect, that isthe hunter. The other is given abilities far beyond that of normal hunters.” He looks at me, his gaze piercing, intense. “And Sylvie, you are that twin. You and Lara both share a bloodline unlike any other. The power that runs in your veins, especially when it comes to the vampire curse, is power beyond measure.”

I freeze. This can’t be real. Lara and me? We’re part of a prophecy? My breath hitches in my chest, and I suddenly feel like I’m drowning in this new reality he’s telling me. This is so far off from what I thought was meant byyou have abilities.

“What do you mean, ‘abilities far beyond normal hunters’? Hunters? You’re not making sense again.” I don’t even know what to say. The words don’t make sense, and yet everything inside me is telling me they’re true.

Lucian’s gaze doesn’t waver, his words cutting through the haze in my mind. “The hunter is simply a term in the prophecy. It describes twins born to fight. You’ve always had abilities, Sylvie. More than you realize. Communicating with the dead? That’s just the surface. What you share with Lara—it’s not chance. It’s tied to something much older. Something in your blood.”

I try to speak, but my throat feels tight, the words refusing to come.

“You and Lara come from two of the most powerful bloodlines this world has ever known,” he says, his voice like a blade slicing through the silence. “Your father’s side is descended from hunters. Slayers. Their purpose has always been to rid the world of creatures like me—vampires, and the witches, too. Your father’s group existed long before the Solstice Society was ever formed. His family was bound to a sacred duty, one passed down for generations.”

I can’t look away from him, even though I want to.

“But your mother…” Lucian’s voice softens, almost reverent. “She was an Everdawn. That name might mean nothing to younow, but it should. The Everdawns were part of the original witches—thekeywitches. The ones who first wielded magic in its purest form. They were the architects of the supernatural order, the creators of the magic that binds this world together. Your mother carried that power in her blood, a legacy stretching back to the beginning of it all.”

My heart pounds as the pieces begin to fit together, forming something too big to comprehend.I’m a…witch?

“When your parents met, it should’ve been impossible,” he continues. “Hunters and witches were never meant to mix. Their worlds were at war—two sides fighting to control or destroy what they couldn’t understand. But they defied all of that. They risked everything to be together. They left their worlds behind, tried to carve out something new for you and Lara. They lived as humans in order to protect the two of you and be together, I can only assume.”

The implication of his words crushes me. My chest tightens, a scream building but unable to escape. My parents loved each other so much, loved us so much, that they denied their families. Their histories. They fled it all to be together and raise the two of us…

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