Blood Sworn Page 9

  Adela tucked her hair behind her ear, approaching Clarissa. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to us.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” Clarissa told her. “I want to keep you safe.”

  Adela caught herself blushing.

  Clarissa wants to keep me safe?!? She was having a really hard time keeping it together, like she was back in middle school, trying to keep her fangirling to a minimum.

  “When all of this is over,” Adela said on a whim, empowered by a boost of courage, “I want to take you out.”

  Clarissa tucked her hair behind her ear. “Like, out on a date?”

  Adela smiled sheepishly, playing with her hair. “Yeah, like a date.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere we want.”

  Clarissa flashed a toothy grin. “I’d like that.”

  Adela’s heart was beating in her chest so hard that she was worried Clarissa could hear it.

  11

  Later that night, the kitchen lights were off, and the common room was empty, except for Renata, who sat with her shoulders slumped. She needed to go to bed, but couldn’t seem to pull herself off the couch. Old reruns of ‘80s sitcoms flashed across the screen, but Renata paid no attention to them. She flicked to another channel. The news report was on.

  Renata sighed. She was so lost in her thoughts and worries.

  It was beyond obvious the Lightblood coven wouldn’t be of any help. She could trust Clarissa, but the others were too far gone. Azazel’s hold over them was too strong. She had no idea what to do, and she hated it. She always had a plan, always knew what to do and what steps to take. It was her responsibility. It was her duty to keep her House members safe. Each of their lives was hers to protect. But she couldn’t figure out the best course of action. The weight of her burden was heavy on her shoulders.

  None of this was easy.

  She should have felt safer, now that the house was magically warded. But it did nothing to soothe her anxiety. Something deep inside her knew the magical boundaries wouldn’t be enough to keep Azazel out. That the warding wouldn’t be enough to protect them. He could pass through it and hurt her or the others if he chose to.

  Renata hated being left to his mercy. She hated feeling helpless.

  No good would come from basking in her insecurities. Nor would she develop a plan at this hour, in this state. The best thing to do was go to sleep, not ponder how she was going to stop Azazel.

  No, that would most definitely not happen at this late hour.

  Renata stood, picking up the television remote to turn it off when the news report caught her attention.

  “There have been several threats of nuclear war from multiple nations, and tensions are rising internationally,” the news reporter said.

  This was Azazel’s doing. Renata was sure of it.

  Her heart fell to her stomach, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood upright, goosebumps forming along her arms.

  Renata wasn’t alone.

  The feeling of being watched made her uneasy. She knew who was there, and he hadn’t stopped by for a nice visit.

  Azazel’s voice sent shivers down her spine. “Don’t you ever wonder why your magic’s been left alone, while the witches’ fades?”

  Renata turned her head toward the demon but said nothing. She refused to play his game.

  Azazel took a step toward her. “Don’t you ever wonder why your soul was strong enough to survive after being split? Why half was strong enough to reincarnate on its own?”

  The television in the common room was the only audible sound.

  Azazel took another step forward, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “You always did take some convincing. After all these years, that hasn’t changed.” He vanished to nothingness, leaving nothing but thin air in front of her.

  Renata’s breathing quickened. Dread took hold of her. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

  There was a loud bang upstairs, like the sound of furniture being knocked over.

  No.

  Renata urged her body up the stairs, her mind racing as her nightmares came to life.

  No, no, no.

  Jackson. He was going after Jackson.

  Her body couldn’t move fast enough, even as she dashed up the stairs at superhuman speed, pushing herself harder and harder.

  Renata leaped into her bedroom, fangs extended. Jackson, suspended in the air, clenched his hands into fists, his muscles tense and his face contorted in pain.

  “Please, Lelahel, there’s no need for that.” Azazel said with posh distaste, waving his hand at her fangs.

  “Leave him alone!” Renata yelled. “What are you doing to him?”

  Jackson screamed, the raw sound of his voice tormenting her.

  “Stop!” Renata cried. “Stop this!”

  “I wouldn’t break your precious little toy, Lelahel.” Azazel scoffed. “Such little faith. What do you take me for? A barbarian?”

  “Please,” Renata begged. “Leave him alone. You’ve got the wrong girl. Please,” she murmured. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”

  The veins beneath Jackson’s skin rippled as his veins darkened. The human scent of his blood morphed into something else, something foreign, yet familiar at the same time. Azazel was changing him, turning him into a…

  “No!” Renata sobbed. “Stop! Please, don’t do this. Please!” she yelled, her voice hoarse. “I’ll do anything!”

  Jackson’s cries silenced as black blood dribbled down his nose. Azazel released his hold on him, and Jackson fell to the floor in a heap.

  No.

  She rushed to his side, cradling his head in her lap. Jackson opened his eyes, the brown irises replaced by bright yellow ones.

  “No, no, no,” Renata cried. She glowered at Azazel. “What have you done to him?”

  “You know what I did,” Azazel said, staring her down. “This is how your race was born.”

  Renata turned to Jackson, her mind reeling.

  “Honestly, Lelahel. What an embarrassing display. You should be thanking me for this. Now the two of you can spend eternity together.” Azazel narrowed his gaze. “I’ll be back. I trust you’ll be more open to discussion by then.”

  In a puff of black mist, the demon vanished.

  Jackson lifted his head, eyes crazed, and fangs unsheathed.

  Azazel changed him. Jackson was made, not turned, but still cursed as she was, nonetheless. Bile rose in her throat, and she felt the urge to vomit.

  Azazel turned him into a vampire.

  She didn’t want this for him. She’d wanted him to grow old, to live out his mortal life, and die happily. She wanted to protect him from this life.

  To protect his humanity.

  Renata finally noticed the others watching somberly from the hall, their faces grim. Even Mariel had nothing to say. Not even a witty, light-hearted comment to lift her spirits.

  She failed them. And Jackson paid the price.

  Renata took a deep breath. She couldn’t afford to think of that now. She had to think of Jackson. He needed her. His eyes were wide, consumed by the hunger. Renata knew firsthand he wasn’t thinking straight. The first hunger, the first desire for human blood, was enough to drive new vampires mad.

  He needed blood. Human blood.

  “I need some blood bags now,” Renata ordered. She needed to stop him from doing something he would regret, at least until he fed. “Hurry!”

  Edwin returned with a handful of blood bags and handed them to Jackson, who savagely tore into them, feeding on their contents.

  His normal demeanor returned more and more with each blood bag he drained, quelling the thirst.

  “Azazel,” Jackson murmured. “What did he—”

  “He made you.” Alice said, her voice low.

  “Made?” Jackson asked, processing what he now was, confusion etched across his features.

  “You’re a vampire now,” Mariel told him, her tone somber, and her garn
et eyes fixed onto the floor in front of her.

  “But how? I wasn’t bitten, he couldn’t have turned me. He didn’t…” he paused, recounting Alice’s words. “I was... made?”

  “Yes,” Alice said. “Legend says that the first four vampires to roam the earth were made by one demon, then spread across the four corners of the world, each of them left with an uncontrollable desire for human blood. Inside each of them, blood as black as the magic that created them flowed through their veins. Like you.”

  The realization hit Renata like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just any vampire. He was one of the Made.

  “That’s why you smell—” she choked on the word — “foreign.”

  Jackson stared at her blankly. “I don’t understand.”

  “The Made were stronger than any of the vampires they turned and were more powerful than even the oldest Turned vampires.” Alice continued, “They were so strong that they could influence the minds of the Turned, while the Turned could only compel lesser beings, like humans.”

  Renata struggled to process what she was hearing. Back at the mansion, they used their mental ability to compel human party guests to forget that they’d been fed off of, keeping their identity secret. Compulsion bent the will of another and took over their minds. To compel another vampire, the Made had to be strong. Much more powerful than the Turned.

  “The legend also says that the Made inherited abilities from their maker,” Alice added, her voice soft.

  “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying I inherited an ability from Azazel when he,” Jackson choked on the word, “made me?”

  “Yes,” Alice nodded her head. “What that ability is, I don’t know.”

  “I guess we’ll find out soon enough, right?” Edwin said, looking worn down.

  Renata’s mind whirred.

  Suddenly, more things made sense, and the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Azazel created the vampire race, yet, he taught Evander and his followers to hate and kill them. Why would he do that? Why create a species of higher beings just to let them be killed off, one at a time?

  Unless…

  Unless that was their purpose. Unless vampires were meant to be hunted down and killed.

  All this time, her kind had existed just to die. But why? Why would Azazel create vampires to be hunted and killed by human vampire hunters?

  Renata’s heart fell.

  Perhaps Azazel wanted to teach humans how to kill, so that one day, they would kill each other. Could all these years of vampires’ existence simply be a means for humans to practice killing?

  No. It couldn’t be. Renata refused to believe it. She wouldn’t believe it. This was so much bigger than she’d ever imagined. Azazel’s scheme had been in the works for thousands of years. What made her think she had a chance to stop him?

  Wyatt sighed. “I guess I’m the only human in the House now.”

  “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Mariel scolded him. “Seriously?”

  “You were right,” Renata admitted to Jackson. “He does want something from me. And now he’s using you to get it.”

  She put her face in her hands. What did he want from her? Renata didn’t care what it was. If it spared the people she loved, she’d give it to him.

  No matter what it was.

  “Look, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it,” Jackson said, attempting to calm the fire inside of her.

  “No,” Renata said, gripping her keys and pressing them into her palm. “No. I’m done allowing other people to bear my burdens when all it does is hurt them.” The last string holding Renata together snapped, pushing her far past her breaking point. “I didn’t want this life for you. I wanted you to live your life, to grow old. I wanted…” She trailed off as her amber eyes landed on the door.

  There was so much she wanted. And Azazel stole that from her.

  “Adela,” Renata ordered, “stay with Jackson. Help him through the change.”

  Adela nodded. “Of course.”

  Once she was sure Jackson would be taken care of, Renata stormed out of the house, determined to settle this, once and for all. She locked the door behind her. Every fiber in her body wanted to make Azazel regret what he’d done to Jackson, but she’d be damned if she let the House members get hurt in the process.

  Renata could hear Jackson pounding on the locked door. “Renata, what are you doing?” Panic bled through his voice. “Dammit! Someone get the key!”

  “Azazel, I’m here!” She screamed like a madwoman, arms outstretched, “You want me, I’m here! Come get me!”

  The door burst open, and Jackson rushed to her with his newfound speed, the other House members not far behind.

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy? Ren,” he pleaded, “stop this.”

  “You want to talk,” Renata hollered, ignoring him, “then let’s talk!”

  The surrounding air hung over their heads, eerily still.

  In a flash, Azazel appeared, and then he and Renata vanished in a puff of black mist.

  12

  She was… gone.

  Just like that, Renata disappeared. Who knew where she was now. Azazel had her, that much, Adela knew for sure. Her mind raced, and she struggled to process what just happened. What she just witnessed.

  It all happened so fast.

  “Get Clarissa over here now,” Jackson demanded, frantically running his hands through his jet black hair. “I don’t care if I have to bring her here myself, just get her here. Find her. Find Renata.”

  Adela quickly pulled out her cell phone and dialed Clarissa’s phone number. “Clarissa, are you there?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” Clarissa answered, sensing the severity of Adela’s tone. “Adela, are you okay? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” Adela told her. “It’s—it’s Renata,” she choked out. “She’s gone. She’s gone, and Azazel has her.”

  “Oh my god,” Clarissa murmured.

  “We have to find her. She’s in danger. Please, if you’ve got any magic left, find her.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Clarissa promised before hanging up the phone.

  “Is she on her way?” Mariel asked, her tone uncharacteristically grave. Fear shone through her scarlet eyes, and she clutched Wyatt’s arm.

  Adela tried to swallow the growing lump in her throat. “Yes.”

  Wyatt reached out towards her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

  Adela returned the gesture, her eyes locked with her brother’s, exchanging comforting looks.

  What the hell was she supposed to do? How would the Mistress handle this? What would Renata do if she were here?

  Well, if Renata were here, there wouldn't be a problem.

  How was she supposed to handle this? She had no frigging idea.

  Adela wished there was a handbook or something that would tell her exactly what she needed to do in this situation. Or at least give her something to go off of. Renata always handled issues like these with poise, never showing her worry or fear.

  Adela felt lost, unable to be the leader the other House members needed her to be. Throughout her brief time as second-in-command, she merely passed on and carried out Renata’s orders—she never gave them herself. Taking orders was easy, but giving them was something entirely different.

  The other House members stood next to each other, mixed emotions etched across their faces while Jackson freaked out. Adela knew he worried for Renata’s safety, they all did, but could still see the effects of the change wreaking havoc inside of him. The change made new vampires nearly mad until they waited it out. She barely remembered most of her first couple of days as a vampire. If Alexander, the Master of the House before Renata, hadn’t taken her in and helped her through the change, god knows what terrible things she would have done had she lost control.

  As Renata’s second-in-command, it was her duty to act as Mistress when Renata couldn’t. Adela pulled herself together. She had to be strong, had to be
brave, to get the House through this. It was her duty to Renata and the House. Her Mistress would want her to carry on in her absence. It was her turn now to help Jackson through his change. Her turn to help the House get through a hard time.

  She had to step up.

  “All right,” Adela said, addressing the others and putting her emotions aside, like a true Mistress of the Newport House. “We have to stay calm until Clarissa gets here.” The responsibility felt foreign and heavy on her shoulders.

  Jackson’s yellow eyes widened. “Calm?”

  “Yes,” Adela said firmly, straightening her back. “That’s an order.”

  His voice shook. “How do you expect me to be calm right now?”

  “Look,” Adela told him. “The change is still affecting you. It’s amplifying your feelings. I need you to get a grip.” She took a deep breath. “Renata needs you. You’re no good to her like this.”

  Jackson nodded, his dilated pupils shrinking.

  “Edwin,” Adela ordered. “Stay with him, all right? He’s still not himself.”

  Edwin nodded, understanding what Adela really meant. Help him and keep an eye on him. “Got it.”

  Clarissa emerged from behind the house, talking over Adela, who opened her mouth to question her. “I heard voices back here, so I didn’t even bother knocking on the front door.” She got right down to business, wasting no time. “What happened?”

  There’s my girl.

  “Azazel was here,” Adela told her, tightly crossing her arms. “He made Jackson a vampire, trying to push Renata over the edge so she’d go after him.”

  “Tell me it didn’t work,” Clarissa breathed, rubbing her forehead anxiously.

  “It did.” Adela bit her lip, reliving the chaotic course of events. “She ran out here yelling for him, then she…” Adela took a deep breath. “She vanished.”

  For a moment, Adela dropped her mask, letting Clarissa see the tidal wave of emotions inside of her. “I know she’s with Azazel,” she said, no louder than a whisper, for only Clarissa to hear. She wouldn’t worry the other House members any more than she had to.

  “Hey,” Clarissa placed her hands on Adela’s shoulders. “We’ll get her back.”