Then, Henri pauses. His head tilts to the side. “You’ve developed feelings for her, haven’t you?”
I lunge forward, but he dances away.
“You have! You have!” he teases. “You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”
I hate the way his laughter sounds. Mocking, loud, and rumbling. It echoes in my ears.
“She isn’t your Linna. She never was! You’ve gone mad!”
“She loves me,” Henri says. “She’smine.”
Our swords lock again, the tips dangerously close to skin, but Henri is unbothered. “I chose you that night I set fire to the Brenin Farm. I couldn’t’ve killed you too, but I didn’t. I chose you.”
His confession is like an arrow to my chest, and my lungs squeeze painfully. It can’t be true… It can’t. But, knowing this man’s true nature and how far his delusions go, I know it must be.
He’d killed them all. My family…
Fury rockets through me. “You-You—”
“I was going to let you all die, but I saved you and brought you here,” he says calmly. “You are as ungrateful as Haven was.”
“You’re the devil!”
Henri comes at me then, his sword raised. I scramble back, my boots sinking into the deep snow. I land on my back as Henri swings again. This time, when our two weapons clash, mine lifts out of my grasp and hurls through the air, feet away, out of my reach.
Breathing hard, I peer up to see Henri’s face has drained of all its humor. His black eyes lock onto mine and his nostrils flare as he readies to deliver the final blow.
“You’re all ungrateful,” he spits. “And unworthy.”
I’m left unable to do anything but hold my breath as the silver blade whooshes through the air with blurringspeed. I squeeze my eyes shut, awaiting the sharp pain and the finality of the eternal darkness.
But there is nothing.
Confused, I open them to see my own terrified reflection staring back at me on the sword’s smooth face. It hovers just inches away from my nose, frozen in mid-air.
Henri doesn’t move either. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, but something’s not right.
That’s when I notice a thin line of crimson across Henri’s throat. It grows thicker and darker until a waterfall of blood begins to spill down his neck and onto his white collar. Suddenly, his arms drop, his knees buckle, and as he falls forward, his head rolls off his shoulders.
Haven stands behind him, breathing hard, with the short sword in her hands again, dripping with new blood.
There’s something terrifyingly different about her face. Her pale skin shimmers against the ivory color of her gown, and her eyes flash from black to an arctic blue as she gazes down at me.
She isn’t the Haven I knew anymore. She’s like me. A vampire.
I can’t believe it.
“H-Haven?”
She blinks rapidly, and her head tilts to the side as she studies my face.
“Haven,” I whisper again, trying to reach her in her dazed state. There must’ve been an exchange of blood before I’d arrived. Henri must’ve tried to change her before I’d arrived, and—
“Haven, please. It’s me. Avrum.”
Every emotion flashes across her face at once—anger,confusion, relief—but fear remains above all. When her gaze drops to Henri’s disembodied head and then back to me, her pupils dilate. “Is he—?”
“Yes. He is. Dead.”
