Page 4 of Dark Desire
I wasn’t sure how long it had been before I tugged on my fresh clothes and made my way back to the village in a daze. The distrustful eyes of the locals watched my every move, suspicion and unease showing on the blur of faces I passed. But I didn’t really see any of them. The only face I saw was hers. The only face I searched for in every passerby, in every shop window or around every corner was hers.
In the moments after the worst realisation of my life, I felt numb. Then came the denial. I had to be wrong. She couldn’t possibly be my soulmate. She couldn’t be the woman I had dreamed of finding since I was a teenager. The one I had longedfor in the years before my life turned upside down. Then she cursed me, and I lost all hope of ever finding the only woman who could take away the darkness and give me some much-needed light. What a fucking fool I was for believing this world would show me any kindness when it never had before.
The denial made way for the intense rage that surged through my veins as I stormed the cobbled streets, shoving past people without apology. I wanted to kill. I wanted to feed. I wanted to destroy. My own soulmate had betrayed me, cursed me, and then abandoned me. For nearly three hundred fucking years. If anything, this just made it so much worse. It was unforgivable. It was inexcusable.
Ambroz was violently seething inside. He was too furious to speak. He itched and clawed beneath my skin, desperate to break free and unleash his rage on the world. A red mist clouded my vision as Ambroz fought his way to the surface. I had to keep some measure of control or else we’d be exposed, and all this effort would be for nothing. But my deadly impulses drove me and before he even saw me coming, I seized a delivery man unloading his truck by the throat, hurled him into the back of the vehicle, and slammed the door shut behind me.
Allowing Ambroz to share control, our horns spiralled from our long burgundy waves, and the black pupils of my eyes dilated until there was no colour left. Scrambling back in blind panic, the human's fearful eyes widened as my fangs snapped down. Before he could scream, my hand clamped over his mouth, and I sank my fangs into his neck, taking ravenous mouthfuls of his rich blood. My siblings’ warnings flashed through my mind.
Don’t kill anyone. We can finally rewrite our history. Prove we are not monsters.
But what if I was a monster?
The man’s pulse slowed. His body relaxed. His hand fell from my shoulder to the truck floor, and I noticed the wedding band on his finger. It took everything in me to release my bite, but I managed it, just as the man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. I grabbed his coat, lifting his limp body slightly off the truck floor and slapped his cheek a couple of times to wake him.
“Look at me,” I hissed. As soon as his brown eyes fixed on my demon’s soulless black orbs, his pupils grew and all his fear and horror melted away. “You won’t remember this or me. You were unloading your truck. Wear a scarf for two days–if anyone asks, you fell into brambles and cut your neck. What’s your name?”
“Rodger.”
I wrapped his scarf around his neck as he stared up at me, completely transfixed by my demon’s unique ability to compel humans. I could never do it in public because I had to share control with Ambroz, and large curved horns and black demonic wings with red-tipped feathers weren’t exactly what you’d call keeping a low profile.
“Rodger. Where does Darcelle Knightsbridge work?”
“At The Cove. The local newspaper down Hemps Street.”
“You’ve been very helpful, Rodger. Now take a well-deserved rest.” I blinked, ending my hypnosis and shifted back into my human form. He slumped down in the lorry, taking a nap that would help him regain his strength. I fell back against the crates and closed my eyes, allowing Rodger’s blood to settle my violence. The feed calmed me to a certain extent but the fury still festered within, darkening, mutating and expanding.
Nothing had changed. Yet everything had changed. I hated Darcelle Knightsbridge more than I thought possible. Not only had she taken so much from me, but she had also destroyed any hope I had of future happiness. Because I would reject her as my soulmate. I would never claim her soul, and I would kill her forwhat she had done to me, even if it kills me in return. But first, I was going to torment her.
Seeing her caused a moment of weakness. I didn’t have time to process anything while she stood there before me, staring at me with those hypnotising hazel eyes looking like the image of innocence. It was all an act, of course. Only evil ran through her veins. But one thing was clear from our meeting. She had no idea who I was. Being a witch, she wouldn’t be able to tell that I was her soulmate immediately. As long as I kept a relative distance, she wouldn’t realise. She’d feel drawn to me, attracted to me, but I could use that to my advantage. And she definitely didn’t recognise me as the demon she spelled into a raven centuries ago. Thinking back on that horrendous night, I remembered how I shifted into Ambroz completely to utilise all my abilities and give myself the best chance at winning any fight. I was stronger in demon form than in my vampire form. But of course, that came with risks. I could only be killed in my demon form. So when the witches began their chants, paralysing me on the ground, no matter how hard I tried to shift back, I couldn’t. Ambroz was in full control. It was him that they bound to the cottage. It was him that they set alight with hellfire. And it was him whom Darcelle would have seen that night. Which meant she had no idea that me and him were the same person. Why would she? She believed him to be trapped inside a bloody raven.
Leaving the truck, I prowled the narrow streets until I found the one I needed. Up ahead, the chime of a bell caught my attention, and that mass of black ringlets bounced out of a rickety door. I pressed my body against the wall and stared down at the floor, making sure my face was hidden beneath my dark hood.
“Thanks, Darcie, you’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” a woman’s voice came from inside the buildingshe had just vacated. I wanted to scoff at the term lifesaver. The witch turned around and flashed her a stunning smile that made my chest tighten. I despised that smile.
“Oh, I’m sure you would survive, Evie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Darcie slung her camera strap over her shoulder and hopped, skipped, and jumped across the uneven cobbled street to the other side. I watched her through hateful eyes, irritated by how spritely and carefree she seemed. She was playing this entire village, treating them like fools, hiding behind a fake identity of a sweet, helpful young woman rather than the conniving little witch she actually was.
Shoving off the wall, I walked slowly past the building she had emerged from and saw the older woman typing away behind her ancient computer, pushing her small spectacles up the bridge of her nose every few seconds out of habit. The walls were covered with framed front covers of historical newspapers. Keeping my distance, I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed the witch, darting out of sight every time she turned slightly towards me. I watched as she greeted every local villager as if they were old friends before disappearing into a small cafe. I waited until she reappeared, coffee cup in hand, and continued to stalk her through the streets until she made her way back towards the church.
As if she could sense someone following her, she checked over her shoulder a handful of times, her hazel eyes searching but never catching sight of me. I smirked. Heathen was right. This was fun. The fear and anxiety slowly creeping onto her face soothed my violent urge to end her life on the spot. I craved her fear. I desired it.
She reached the wooden gate that separated the village from the rolling hills and stepped through it, turning to scan the route she had just walked with a scrutinising gaze. I ducked behind a parked van, pretending to tie my boots as a couple walkedpast. When I slowly stood up, Darcie was already halfway up the hill, with the safety of her church peeking over the mound in the distance. I couldn’t follow her up there or she’d see me. There was nowhere to hide in the open, green fields. Folding my arms over my chest, I leaned my back against a stone cottage and watched the seductive wiggle of her hips as she marched purposefully up the hill.
“A fox? Or a wolf perhaps?”
I pressed my back harder against the wall to let the two hunched men, their spines curved and heads dipped, stroll past me on the narrow pathway, my ears perked up at their conversation.
“What would a wolf be doing so close to the coast? No, something bigger than a wolf tore that poor animal apart. There was hardly anything left of it. Beryl's spouting her superstitious nonsense again, saying it was a sacrifice to the devil. Cheston is calling for a village meeting tonight to get to the bottom of it. ’Ee’s out for blood.”
“Yeah. No one touches Cheston’s cattle and gets away with it. I bet it was a couple of hellers. Youngen’s bored out of their minds and looking for trouble.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
I smirked from beneath my hood as a plan began to take shape in my mind. Darcelle Knightsbridge believed she was safe within this small community. But I was about to turn her quiet life upside down.
She was once a slayer; there was no other explanation for why she was there to kill my family that night. She would have spent years hunting and mercilessly murdering demons just like me. Perhaps some part of her recognised Ambroz as her soulmate, and at the last moment, this sparked her consciousness, preventing her from letting him burn alive. But that didn’t excuse who she was and what she had done beforeand after that night. I won’t compromise on my resolve to ruin her life just because destiny believes we should be together. Not all soulmates are destined for love. Had she spared a thought of me these last three hundred years? I think not.
