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Before I could even blink, she pounced.

47

FAR GONE

SYLVAN

I leapt back before Aura could get her hands on me, putting some distance between us. She stood, unsteady on her feet, but there was no Aura left to contend with. I’d expected her to have fully shifted the way Antoine had in his last days, but this was worse. I was forced to stare at the woman who’d stolen my heart. And while my claws lengthened and my body prepared for battle, I wasn’t sure if I could kill her.

“Aura,” I called out, knowing damn well she couldn’t hear me. “Listen to me.” This time my poetry didn’t stand a chance. She leapt over the furniture, her clawed hands slashing wildly at me. Drinking glasses were swiped off a nearby shelf, shattering.

Through the commotion, I spotted Magdalena running from the bedroom. She quickly sized up the situation, and I held my finger to my lips. Too late. Aura reeled on her. My heart leapt. I jumped over the armchair, snagging Aura around her middle as she tried to grapple for Magdalena.

“Grab the sedative!” I shouted.

Aura’s claw caught my face. It stung, and blood seeped into my eyes. I swore and fought her as best as I could, but her strength had tripled, and with one thrust of her arms, she propelled me backward into the wall. My head hit the hard surface, and stars broke out across my vision. Aura was on me again, teeth snapping close to my neck while I fought her off. I struck out with the back of my hand, and her head snapped to the side. She staggered back, but no sign of pain crossed her features.

“Magdalena, I need that fucking sedative!” I shouted.

She didn’t answer, but I got Aura to the ground. She thrashed and slashed, making contact a few times. My eyes clouded with red, yet I still kept my focus. Magdalena finally reappeared, the sedative in hand. She jabbed it into Aura’s shoulder through her shirt.

Aura fought for a while longer before her body went limp. For a few seconds, we stared at her unconscious body. Stunned. Exhausted.

“I can’t go out there,” Magdalena said, breathless. She gestured to the window where the sun faintly shone through the curtains. “We need that cure from Gertrude.”

I wiped my hand across my eyes to clear it. My face stung. “I’ll get it.”

“Hurry,” said Magdalena. “It won’t be long.” Her eyes had that strange, vibrant look to them again, so I didn’t question her. I rushed out of the cottage and ran several paces to the hut next door. I felt bad banging on the door of a stranger, but there was no time to waste. When it opened, the elderly woman behind it startled, stepping back with her knuckles whitening on the door handle.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” I said. “I’m⁠—”

“I know who you are. Come in.”

It was so casual. She led me into the house—an even cozier space than Magdalena’s. It was as heavily ornamented as her lawn and smelled of floral aromas merging with bitter odors. All around us were hanging plants, a discarded cauldron sitting on a nearby table with knitting needles and yarn peeking out, and a cat lounging on a couch between various books and wicker baskets.

“Here’s the draft,” she said, presenting me with a vial and a capped syringe. In the vial was a light brown color, unlike the black of Aura’s usual draft. “You just need to load the syringe,” she told me. She held up her hands, indicating they were gnarled and shaky. It was a wonder she’d accomplished as much as she did. Impressive.

“I understand,” I said. I quickly pulled the medication into the syringe and thanked the elder spellcaster repeatedly. A series of loud crashes followed a distant scream, and my heart lurched into my throat. I thanked the spellcaster again and took off running, careful not to drop the syringe. I flung the door open and found Magdalena slumped up against the wall, unmoving.

Aura was nowhere to be seen. Fuck. I rushed back out of the house, pausing to capture the scent of her trail. The sun was mostly gone when I took off in pursuit of her. It was one thing for her to be out of control and locked inside with it, but if she encountered someone else … Gods, if she encountered another lycan, there could be another outbreak.

I dashed off as fast as my legs would allow, and the moment I stalled—her scent strong in my nose—a growl sounded to my right.

I turned, and before I could even say a word or draw a breath, a black and white wolf leapt at me. It was Antoine all over again, with the blood-matted fur and sickening smell of the infection that took over. The wild look in the wolf’s eyes, the unrecognizable fury. She was far gone. I’d failed. Again. Worse, I’d failed someone I loved again.

I landed hard on the forest ground, hot saliva raining down on my face as her maw snapped at me. Everything seemed to move too quickly and too slowly at the same time. It was only with desperation that I struck out, driving the syringe home into wherever I could reach. There was no yelp. No indication that the needle had even struck until she went completely still, her head dropping forward.

I struggled to roll her off me, my vision clouding again with blood and wolf saliva, my body aching. Aura shifted back into vampire form, her bruised and tattered body completely still. A thud sounded on the ground—a large iron pot—and Magdalena swayed on the spot. My eyes darted from the pot to Aura, and my heart sank. It hadn’t been the draft. She’d been physically knocked unconscious. I couldn’t get up fast enough to catch Magdalena as she dropped as well.

She was breathing, but she wasn’t moving. I glanced over at Aura. She, too, was breathing, though black blood pooled into the grass around her. Her heartbeat was at least steady. The syringe was discarded nearby. My pulse raced as I picked it up, noting the barrel was empty. I hoped that meant the draft was successfully in her system.

I pushed myself upright, hands sticky with bright red blood, arms streaked with black, and let out a despairing laugh despite myself. What a sight it must’ve been. Two vampires bleeding out with a lycan still conscious and slash marks on all three bodies. If anyone caught sight of this now, I would be fucked.

Magdalena awoke with a gasp, her hand flying to her side where Aura had clawed her. “Aura!” She tried to sit up, but I pressed my hand against her shoulder.

“It’s alright,” I assured her. “She’s breathing. Her heart is steady. Let’s get her back to the house and make sure you’re taken care of.”

“I’m fine,” she gritted out, but her shirt was soaked with her blood. “She shoved me into the wall, and that’s all I remember.”