Page 1 of A Touch of Madness

The sky weeps with the colors of a dying day, streaks of molten gold and burning crimson spilling over the horizon like a bleeding wound that refuses to heal. The house looms against the shadows of twilight, its ancient stone walls bristling as though alive, resisting the inevitable crawl of night. In this fleeting hour, where light and dark wrestle for dominance, the air tightens. A fragile silence clings to the air, stretched taut like a string ready to snap.

The foreboding omen is not lost on me.

With the inevitability of a blade meeting flesh, she steps outside.

Lara.

Beside me, Sylvie stiffens, her breath hitching as if the very sight of her sister steals the air from her lungs. Even before the sun fully surrenders to the horizon, the light struggles to touch her, retreating as though repelled by her presence. She is a chilling vision—too perfect, her beauty sharpened to a cruel edge, something sculpted from frost and shadow—from decay.

From death.

Her eyes, once mirrors of Sylvie’s warmth, are now crystalline and unfeeling. They catch the dying light like shards of splintered glass, reflecting none of it. Every step she takes is methodical, measured, like a predator’s prowl, her sharp heels clicking against the steps as she descends.

“Lara…” Sylvie whispers, barely audible, her voice fragile as antiquated porcelain, trembling in absolute disbelief. Her sister’s name hangs in the air, a prayer or plea, its fragility underscored by the oppressive silence it’s met with.

Lara’s gaze is fixed ahead, unwavering, cutting through the gathering gloom, her expression a mask of disdain.

When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she stops, the silence around her deepening like the hush before a storm. For a moment, all is still. The air seems to hold its breath, and even the shadows seem to cower in her presence—a prelude to violence.

“Hello, sister,” Lara says, her voice a blade honed to destroy. “Miss me?”

The venom coiled in that one, singular word,sister, twists Sylvie’s features with an agony I cannot shield her from. It’s a deliberate wound, a rejection that leaves Sylvie visibly shaken.

“Lara, it’s me,” Sylvie says, her voice cracking under the weight of hope and desperation. She takes a tremulous step forward, her shuddering hand outstretched.

“Stop.”

Lara’s command halts Sylvie mid-step, the sharp syllable a leash. Her lips curl into a smile, but it is anything but kind. It mocks rather than welcomes.

“Is that all you have to say to me? Aftereverything?” Her voice drips with venom-laced malice, each word a dagger aimed directly at Sylvie’s heart. Her disdainful smile twists, contorts into a sneer as she shakes her head.

Sylvie falters, her brows knitting together as she struggles to respond to the person her twin has become—cold, heartless, and immeasurably bitter. “I—I’ve been looking for you. I thought?—”

“YouthoughtI was dead,” Lara interrupts, her voice cold and unyielding. “No, Sylvie. You didn’t think. You didn’t fight. You didn’t care.”

She steps closer, slowly closing the space between the two of them, and my instincts flare to life.

“That’s not true, Lara,” Sylvie protests, her voice trembling as tears spill down her red cheeks. “I never stopped looking. Never stopped trying. I did everything I could. I nearly went insane trying to figure out how to get you back. I put myself in harm’s?—”

“Lies!” Lara’s shrill, accusatory voice cuts through Sylvie’s protest. She takes yet another step closer, her movements sharp and measured, each one radiating hostility. “You left me. You betrayed me. Betrayed our family.” She cocks her head to the side as if thinking. “You were happy to be rid of me, weren’t you, sister?”

The accusation lands like a blow, and I watch Sylvie flinch as if visibly struck, trying to hold onto a reality that is quickly slipping through her shaking fingers.

“I didn’t betray you,” Sylvie whispers, her voice barely audible, as if even she doesn’t believe herself anymore. Shock is written on her face as her eyes widen, as her lips quiver.

“Didn’t you?” Lara’s tone drips with scorn, with pure, unbridled hatred. It’s such a sharp, stinging contrast to who I’ve heard of her to be. “While I was rotting away, suspended in some fucked-up other realm, you were here, hiding like a coward, like the shell of a human you’ve always been. Hiding withhim.”

Her gaze instinctively snaps to me, her black eyes narrowing with uninhibited hatred, her scorn palpable. I meet her glare without flinching, though I feel the weight of her anger like a tangible force.

“Lara, please,” Sylvie pleads, stepping forward again, nearly completely closing the space that remains between the two of them, causing me to step forward in her wake. “Whatever they told you, it’s not true. They are the reason you were stuck in time. They took you and tried to use you against?—”

“Enough of the lies!” Lara’s voice rises, piercing and callous as it reverberates with raw power. She gestures toward me with a disdainful sweep of her hand, her nails gleaming like talons in the fading light. “The Solstice Society showed me the truth, Sylvie. They told me everything they told you, you’re just too insufferable to believe it. Vampires killed our parents—hiskind killed them, yet you stand here defending him. Defending your vile actions.”

Sylvie’s breath catches, her hand flying to her mouth as though the words physically struck her. As if she cannot believe just how wrong her sister has things.

“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “That’s not true. They’re lying to you just like they lied to me. They are twisting everything. They are trying so hard?—”

“Lying?” Lara laughs, cutting Sylvie off once again, a bitter, hollow sound devoid of joy. “They opened my fucking idiotic eyes, Sylvie. While you were here playing house with a revolting monster, they showed me what I was meant to be. They gave me purpose beyond anything you could ever even conceive.”

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