Page 2 of The Bonds of Indigo

I take ten quick, desperate steps, just far enough to get past him before he hits the ground and cuts me off. My stride falters; my left ankle screams with every step, protesting even as I force myself faster.

Footsteps thump behind me, and I know they’re closing in. Godsdamn it, I just need to make it to the soil—then I can steal the energy from the earth, summon Thornwyn, and disappear.

I’m almost there, close enough to the wired fence that I can taste the metal in the air, when a rough hand clamps around my throat and halts me mid-motion.

“No!” I jerk my elbow back, but I’m no fighter, not physically, anyway. His kind is built for combat: stronger, faster, tougher. I’m just a mind meant for magic, trapped in a Mundane’s body.

He disrespects me by letting my hit on him land… and then laughs.

In the next instant, my back slams into hard, cold concrete. Pain explodes down my spine like lightning, stealing the breath from my lungs. I cough, gasping, as the Vampire leans over me, grin wide and cruel, fangs glinting past his lower lip.

“Gotcha, bitch.”

I shout and shrug my shoulders, but it’s useless. I’m not able to use both arms to push myself up. I’m drained of power, and though I can feel Vendra reaching for me, it’s no use. My vessel is too weak. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t pushed any more energy into me… She fears killing me.

He drags me backward, away from the nature I’m desperately clawing toward. The energy rising from the grass seems to be stretching out like an arm to grab me.

No…

My body feels unbearably heavy, and I’m almost grateful I don’t have to walk back to my own demise—just hauled along by the throat like a damn ragdoll.

There’s no point in fighting. The moment this Vampire had me in his grip, it was over.

“My child… I am sorry.” My god has spoken—she can’t help me anymore, and after tonight, I have no one else that will either.

Monster…

“Your heart has the destiny of a monster, Amarah. The more you fight it, the harder it will be for you.”

The bright purple night casts back down on me as I’m thrown like trash back into the streets. Fire I hadn’t noticed on my departure burns to my left, while blood covers the buildings to my right.

“Do not let her corrupt you.” I drop and shake my head, willing the voices to stop. “To be able to use the raw energy from Vendra is a gift, but using it for evil will consume you… and this world.”

“A Holloway.” The voice outside of my mind drags me from my mother’s words.

I look up and see him: a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes that, under the Emethye Moon, almost seem lavender. But I know better. Only Demons and the cursed are granted such a damning.

“Do you know who I am?” he asks as he steps to me, just as I’m thrust up onto my knees and sat back forcefully onto my calves.

I shake my head. My guess is he’s with the militia, like the rest of the mortals surrounding me. After all, I was the one who alerted them. They just took their sweet fucking time.

Gentle footsteps pull my gaze downward. The young boy—the sole survivor of this little town—stares back at me. He’ll grow up haunted by what he’s seen, if he chooses to live through it. I wouldn’t blame him if the first chance he gets, he downs a bottle of painkillers and drifts into the everlasting sleep.

May Serynne grace him passage to the Vayl, if that’s the case.

There’s no point in trying to smile at him. He saw what he saw, and there’s no trying to convince him otherwise.

“Hoccine monstrum est?” the man asks.

“Monstrum!” He points directly at me, and I drop my chin to my chest and close my eyes.

Fingers thread through my hair and yank my head back. If they’re looking for a reaction, they won’t get one. Every hard line of my face stays defiant. I know my fate’s already sealed. I won’t beg like a bitch for mercy. If I’m to be cut down, just like my parents were, then so be it.

The Holloway family will end with me, right here. It’s not like I had a touch worth leaving on this gods-forsaken world anyway.

Honestly, I just wish the Vampire holding me would snap my neck and be done with it. Make it quick. I’ve lived twenty decent years, that’s long enough. While my mother had cast the spell of eternal life on me, my plan was to make it to sixty, strip away the immortality spell, and slit my wrists in some overpriced bathtub—go out on my own terms.

Forty years short. Eh, close enough.