Her Sweetest Downfall Part 4

"She will be. Eventually . . . " His gaze refocused on her. "I don't exactly know her, only what my guardian told me of her when explaining what my calling would entail. I was told she would be receptive if she would hear what I have to say first."

"If?"

"Before she kills us. A chance I cannot take with you."

Ophelia searched his eyes, finding nothing more than the empty weight of hopelessness. How could she put her own, single life above everyone else's? For once, she understood where Ethan had been coming from. She needed to do this for her mother. She needed to do this for . . . everyone.

"We must, mustn't we?" she asked, but it wasn't really a question. This wasn't a matter of fate anymore.

"Everyone has a choice," he said gravely. "You still believe that, do you not?"

"I do," she said. "And this one is mine."

Breathing in a focused breath, she turned away and walked toward the trail into the woods. She couldn't very well go back to Lady Karina's estate now. She couldn't turn away from what had been done to her mother. Maybe her father had been right. She could be more than a servant.

Ethan's heavy boots crunched the branches along the trail behind her. Moonlight pierced through the winter-bare canopy above. The patchy night sky provided just enough light for Ophelia to make her way along the path, but she knew from her mother's stories that the light of the moon was as bright as the sun to Ethan. Neither said another word until they reached a break in the path.

"Her camp is on the other side of the clearing," Ethan said.

"She's turned anyone before?"

Ethan's expression darkened. "No."

Ophelia gave a resolute nod. "Well, that certainly is good to know. What do we do now?"

"Stay behind me. It's best I approach her first."

The bushes rustled behind them, and Ophelia spun around. A pet.i.te girl, not much older than sixteen, stood on the path only a couple of feet away. Her oil-black hair tumbled around her shoulders. Moonlight glinted off the dark locks that framed her face. Her pale skin did not have the healthy glow of a well-fed Cruor. Instead, it was more alabaster white, pasty and nearly translucent. Only her cornflower blue eyes held any sign of life.

She snapped out her fangs and hissed, crouching down.

Ophelia gasped and stepped back, Ethan taking a protective stance in front of her.

"Sara?" he asked, edging Ophelia further away.

In a blur of movement, the girl was standing inches from him, her face level with his chest, but her gaze locked on his eyes. "Don't. Call. Me. Sara."

He retreated another step, nearly tripping over Ophelia. Her elbow grazed a tree behind her, and she grabbed Ethan's shoulder to catch her balance.

In another flash of movement, Ophelia found herself pinned to the ground in the clearing. d.a.m.n to h.e.l.l the inhuman speed of the Cruor. The Cruor-girl held Ophelia's wrists against the ground so tightly that her nails dug into her flesh. A bead of sweat rolled from her hair-line, cool against the heat of the serpent's mark. Ophelia pushed, but the girl didn't budge. She tried to twist away, but the girl's surprising weight kept Ophelia in place.

Ethan broke through the trees into the clearing. He scanned the area until his gaze landed on Ophelia with fear and realization. "Sara, wait!"

The Cruor screamed, snapping her attention to Ethan.

Ophelia took the moment of distraction to shove her arms forward with all her might. The girl tumbled off of her, and Ethan pounced on her before she could rise, pinning her to the ground just as she had held Ophelia in place.

"We're here to give you something," he said.

Their figures blurred, and then the Cruor had the upper hand once more. She sat straddled over Ethan, her tiny hand wrapped around his neck. Her fingernails dug deep, sinking into his skin.

Ophelia stepped forward. "Leave 'im alone."

"You came to my home," the girl said. "You do not tell me what to do."

"The man ye are about to kill can give ye the ability to walk in the sun."

"Impossible."

Ethan struggled under her grasp.

"Possible," he croaked.

"Lenore," the Cruor said. "My name is Lenore now." She released her grasp on Ethan's neck, and replaced the s.p.a.ce on his throat with her boot. "Tell me why you are here."

Ophelia strode over. "Ye want to walk in the sun, it is 'is blood and magic ye need."

Lenore smirked, and swung her gaze toward Ophelia. "If I want his blood, I can just take it."

"It won't do ye any good if 'e doesn't give it to ye willingly," Ophelia said, remembering her mother's stories of the magic of the Ankou.

Lenore narrowed her eyes. "And why would he want to do that?"

"'e doesn't, I'll tell ye that. We need a bit of 'elp ourselves."

"You want to trade with one of the Cruor?" Lenore quirked one eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"If you are willing to trade with one of the Ankou," Ethan said.

The moon glinted in his eyes, and Ophelia, coming undone by her stress, hid her smile with her hand. The Ankou, her mother had always said, could be a bit mischievous.

Lenore stood and allowed Ethan up from the ground. "I will keep the girl until your magic is proven."

Ethan glared at her. "No."

"No?" Lenore asked. "Then I will take both your lives now."

"And you will have gained nothing for it."

"I smell your desperation." Lenore sneered. "You need me more than I need you."

"Then stay with us," he offered. "You will have the protection of our home from the sun and easy accessibility to us if we are not true to our word."

"What do you want?"

"We need you to turn Ophelia."

Lenore laughed. She turned away, tilted her head toward the night sky, and laughed again. She flopped down into the gra.s.s, her laughter continuing to roll through her until blood dotted the corners of her eyes. "You couldn't possible mean this!"

The whole ordeal was unsettling.

Lenore inhaled deeply and sharpened her gaze on Ophelia.

"Sit," she said. "Tell me what brings you here. I love a good story."

They did, and soon an agreement was made. They would execute a ritual to transfer some of the Ankou's magic to Lenore. She would stay with them until morning, and if their promise held good, she would turn Ophelia.

Having returned to Damascus, 1808 After returning to Ethan's cabin, Lenore ventured into the nearby village and lured a man back to their secluded field. Ophelia watched in horror as the Cruor-girl drained the poor man of his life.

Ethan eased her away from the curtain and guided her over to the fire. He tried to talk to her, but the agonized face of the dying young man burned into Ophelia's memory as she stared at the flames.

Shortly thereafter, Lenore strolled in with blood staining her mouth, cheeks, and chin.

"'ow could ye?" Ophelia demanded.

"What?" Lenore asked. Her eyes were brighter now, her skin no longer translucent but instead the smooth pallor of porcelain. "A girl's got to eat."

One of the final herbs needed to perform the sunlight magic grew in a large stretch of forest in Denmark, and because Ophelia didn't trust Lenore, she joined Ethan when he ventured out to collect the ingredient.

They paused just outside a wooded area. Ethan lifted a finger to his lips, and Ophelia stood unmoving until his shoulders relaxed and he waved for her to follow.

"I want to show you something while we're here," he said, leading her through the thicket onto what was not quite a path.

When she hesitated, he stopped, reached back, and took her hand. There was security to be found there, with his strong hand wrapped around hers, his palm warm against her own, but still Ophelia's heart throbbed with anxiety.

"We are safe," he whispered. "There is something you must see."

Ethan crouched on the path and gently tugged Ophelia to his side. Peering through the breaks in the leaves of the underbrush, Ophelia spotted a small campfire and a tent. Two men-if they could be called such-sat by the fire. Both of them had graying skin and enlarged skulls. When the first man spoke to the other, his lips pulled back to reveal a mouth full of jagged, pointed teeth.

Ethan slapped his hand to her mouth to cover her gasp. He shook his head, his deep brown eyes wide with warning. One of the . . . things . . . looked up from the flames and in their direction. She squeezed Ethan's hand and pressed her lips together in fear she would vomit.

Ethan encircled her with his strong arms, the last herb they'd set out to gather clutched in his right hand, and then they fell into the darkness once more, traveling through s.p.a.ce with the images of those men and a thousand questions still rampaging through Ophelia's mind.

When Ophelia could see again, they were in front of their very normal cabin, her heart still pounding in her chest. Ethan's arms held her tighter.

"I apologize," he whispered.

"What-" Ophelia nearly choked on the word. "What were they?"

"Ankou," he said quietly.

"No," she said, pushing away from him. "They couldn't be."

"I told you before what happens when our kind are exposed to too much sunlight. Those men tried to reverse the sun's effect on them by drinking Strigoi blood."

"But they look nothing like ye."

Ethan's lips pressed in a grim line. "They will never again look like men. They will have to feed on Strigoi blood for the rest of their lives to maintain their current state. To stop now would bring an excruciating death."

Ophelia knew she shouldn't judge them for their appearance alone, though surely it was their carelessness that led them to their current state. Just the same, the sight of them had terrified her. And how did they acquire the Strigoi blood? Fearing the answer might make her sick, she couldn't even bring herself to ask.

"I should not have discouraged you earlier." Ethan took hold of her delicate hands. "There are consequences should you deny your calling. I showed you those men so that you would understand what I mean. I let my heart get in the way earlier, and for that I nearly failed as your guardian."

"Ye 'aven't failed me."

He lowered his watery gaze. "I will rob you of your life, or of your destiny. I fail you either way."

"Ethan-"

He cleared his throat. "Enough of that, now."

Ethan entered the cabin, but Ophelia remained outside for a few minutes trying to think of a way in which they would be free to explore their feelings for one another, but no amount of staring at the horizon provided answers. After she calmed her nerves, she followed him in and sat at the far corner of the room. Lenore raised an eyebrow, and Ophelia told her to stay away.

Lenore sneered. "Don't worry, princess, I've already eaten."

"That man," Ophelia said. "Perhaps 'e was somebody's son, somebody's 'usband or-"

"Or someone's rapist or murderer," Lenore interrupted, a tired note to her voice.

Ophelia glared at her and stepped closer to Ethan. He was so completely absorbed in his dishes and herbs that he didn't seem to hear a word.

"Let's get this over with," Lenore said, breezing past Ophelia to peer over his shoulder.

Now if Ophelia wanted to get away from the Cruor-girl, she would have to step away from Ethan as well. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the cot.

"What is it?" Lenore asked, nudging his shoulder.

"Hmm?" He fidgeted with a few herbs and then glanced up. "Oh. Sun magic requires balance."

He pushed forward a dish filled with green, stringy leaves that smelled so strongly of dried apple Ophelia could taste it on the air. "Chamomile prepares the body for the magic and purifies your system."

The next dish he revealed held three cinnamon sticks. "Protection."

Two final dishes contained Acacia-also for protection-and patchouli for healthy growth. Ethan explained each was an herb of the sun that represented one of the elements.

"Healthy growth?" Lenore asked.

Ethan started emptying the herbs into a small pot. "Will help with your pallor. You'll appear more human. Though the herb may also encourage pa.s.sionate love."

She huffed. "I'd have preferred to be taller."

Ophelia watched the two with growing fascination. "Where did ye learn all this?"

"My father," Ethan said. He sc.r.a.ped his hand over the shading of his jaw. "He owned several ancient ritual books. I'd read them with great interest as a child, but it wasn't until I joined the Ankou that I was able to utilize the information. The Ankou all carry a unique magic, but that is also only as good as their knowledge."

"And ye are sure it will work?" Ophelia asked.