Chapter 1 — **Chapter 1**

Vera

My legs burn as I sprint toward the secluded garden clearing where Seraphine found the note—laced with dark magic and a blatant threat to Gran. I couldn’t wait for the others; the words on that page seared into me, and I bolted out here, driven by dread. The air grows heavier with each step, a sense of wrongness pressing into my bones. I taste it, sharp and metallic, a familiar tang of magic prickling my nostrils. Tingles race across my skin.

Beneath it, something darker festers. The stench of decay and corruption churns my stomach, a vile undercurrent that shouldn’t be here in this sacred space.

*Horror claws at me, sharp and relentless.*

Black magic. He’s used the dark arts to take her. Gran’s power is immense, but she’d never stoop to such filth, not after seeing what it did to Althea. The consequences would haunt her more than any enemy. I understand that now, too well.

“Gran!” I shout, bursting through the hedge into the small clearing where Seraphine’s squirrel often lingers. A towering oak dominates the center, moonlight glinting off crystal chimes in its branches. Normally, they’d tinkle softly, but tonight, a suffocating stillness smothers everything, heavy as a weighted blanket. The grass underfoot feels unnaturally cold, as if the dark magic has seeped into the earth itself.

“Gran!” I call again, already knowing it’s futile. I reach the oak’s base and tilt my head back, peering into the dense branches high above, as if she might somehow be there. It’s a ridiculous hope. I know it’s too late. Still, I pace the trunk, unable to stop, my fingers brushing the rough bark for any sign. Lingering sorcery prickles my skin—not Gran’s warm, steady pulse, but something colder, sharper.

“Come on, you smug bastard. You had to have left something.”

A glint catches my eye in the thick grass. I kneel, narrowing my focus on a small crystal bell, a charm from Gran’s bracelet. Each bell was imbued with a protective ward, a Blackwood heirloom meant to shield us. My throat tightens as I pick it up, the cool crystal tingling against my fingertips with residual magic. A fragile piece of her I can’t let go.

“Gran… where did he take you?” I whisper, closing my hand around it, anger searing through me. I see her weathered hands guiding mine through my first spell, and the thought of losing that forever burns hotter than my magic ever could. After all Lucien Marlowe has inflicted on this family, to add this to his list—I’d tear him apart if I could.

*What does he even want from us?*

Blood. Power. He’s been scheming for gods know how long, watching, waiting. Now his patience is thinning. It’s barely been a day since he lured Althea out, tried to claim her again. Now Gran. And I can’t forget Ashling, my sister’s familiar, just another pawn in his twisted game.

This has to end. I’ll end it.

But where would he take her? Vampires have safe houses scattered across the city—underground lairs, abandoned buildings, lavish penthouses. Lucien’s wealth could hide dozens of properties under false names. I close my eyes, trying to think like him. Calculating, strategic. Not somewhere obvious. Remote, perhaps? Or hiding in plain sight?

A faint rustle in the shadows sets my nerves on edge before I see him. Theron Nightshade steps into the moonlit clearing, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the grass.

“What are you doing here?” I snap, hating the traitorous spike in my pulse at his presence. His black T-shirt clings to his muscular chest, distracting me against my will.

“I figured you’d want every advantage out here,” he says in that deep, maddeningly calm voice. His eyes sweep the clearing before locking on me. Moonlight catches them, revealing an indigo blue so deep I’d always mistaken it for black. Why I’m noticing that now is beyond me.

“I’ve handled worse without a vampire’s pity.” I turn away, scanning the ground for footprints, a trail, any sign of where they went.

“What’s in your hand?” His voice is suddenly beside me, close enough to startle. I bite down a curse as I face him, mere inches away.

Goddamn vampires and their stealth. My skin crawls at his nearness, every instinct screaming predator. “It’s no business of yours,” I retort, my fist tightening around the charm, aware I sound belligerent and not caring.

He doesn’t seem to care either. Squatting, he examines the ground where we stand. “Looks like he took her from here.” He glances up.

“Obviously.” I roll my eyes. “Scuffed earth and flattened grass aren’t exactly subtle.”

“And the enhanced magic signatures,” he adds, dusting his hands as he rises. “There’s a bitter edge to the dark magic trace here.”

“You can read signatures?” I frown.

“Of course,” he says, as if it’s common knowledge. He nods at my hand. “Will you show me what you found?”

I glare at him, instincts warring. Every fiber screams not to trust a vampire, but if he can help track Gran… “Fine.” I uncurl my fingers, revealing the crystal bell. “It’s from Gran’s bracelet.”

Theron reaches for it, but I pull back. “I’ll hold it.”

He sighs, extending a palm. “Place it here. I just need contact.”

Reluctantly, I drop the bell into his hand. The instant it touches his skin, a jolt of energy surges between us. My magic flares, clashing with whatever power he channels. Purple-white sparks crackle in the air, dancing up my arm—a cold fire that shouldn’t feel alive, yet it does. It’s not painful, but it’s unsettling, foreign. I hate that I feel anything at all when he’s near, a buzzing under my skin I can’t name.

“What the hell?” I try to pull away, but his fingers close around mine, trapping them against the crystal. The feedback intensifies, tingling through me.

“Wait,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I’m picking up something…”

He’s so near I feel the cool radiating from him. My heart pounds as I meet his gaze, those indigo eyes glowing with an inner fire in the moonlight. For a split second, I forget he’s a vampire, forget everything but the strange connection humming between us. My breath stutters, mind reeling.

“Get your hands off my daughter!”

Dad’s voice shatters the moment. Theron releases me instantly, stepping back as my parents emerge from the shadows. I clutch the bell to my chest, steadying my breathing.

*What just happened?*

Voices cut through the silence as my family pours into the clearing, drawn by my shouts and the dark magic’s echo. Dad strides forward, hair gleaming like mercury in the moonlight. Mom’s beside him, face etched with worry. Althea and Torin follow, her fists clenched with frustration at being here instead of acting. Seraphine and Kael appear, her posture leaning forward with eager determination.

Just moments ago, we were inside, celebrating Althea’s return, planning Seraphine’s future with Kael. Everything felt normal, hopeful. Then Seraphine found that note by Ashling’s tree, and Gran rushed out here… Now she’s gone.

“I can track her,” Theron interrupts my thoughts. “The trace is still fresh.”

“Vampires got us into this mess—how can we trust them to get us out?” I snap, stepping between him and the oak.

“Vera—” Althea starts, but I silence her with a look. Her falling for a vampire doesn’t mean I have to.

“I get your distrust,” Theron says, voice patient, “but I can smell things your magic can’t. There are traces here—”

“I don’t care what you smell!” My hands spark defensively.

Theron moves faster than I can track, appearing by the trunk. His nostrils flare as he runs fingers over the bark. “There’s something else. Beyond the dark magic.” The air shimmers faintly where it lingers, a sickly green only witches and some vampires can see.

“Get away from there!” Sparks crackle between my fingers.

“Blood,” he says quietly, showing a faint reddish smear on his fingertips. He raises them, inhaling. “Vampire blood, not your grandmother’s. Lucien was injured when he took her. And the scent… it’s tied to the old warehouse district by the river. A lead, if you’ll take it.”

I hate that he’s useful, that I might need him. Still, I grit out, “That doesn’t mean we’re working together.”

“Vera, we’re facing a common enemy,” Kael interjects, positioning himself between us. “We combined strengths to save Torin. We need to do it again.”

“What do you propose?” Dad asks, jaw tight but softening to the idea.

“If Theron has a trail, I can go after Lucien—” Althea begins.

“No!” Torin’s voice cuts like a whip. “Althea, your power could kill you—or others—if it slips. I saw what happened in that church. Can you control it?”

She looks down, voice small. “No. You’re right. I might hurt someone.”

“If anyone should go, it’s me,” Seraphine says, eyes bright with hope.

“Ro, your magic’s strong but new,” I counter. “Misdirected, it could be disastrous.”

She looks sheepish but doesn’t argue.

“None of this is a solution,” Mom says firmly. “I won’t have any of you rushing off to confront a madman. Your father and I have a better chance, but even we won’t act rashly.”

“Why not?” I demand.

“Because the time for reckless plans is over,” Dad says. “The coven conclave and Blood Assembly must act. Lucien’s dark magic—he’s left a stain on our legacy, traces even they can’t ignore. I’m calling an emergency gathering. It’s strategic, not debate for debate’s sake.”

“Councils? They’ll stall while Gran suffers,” I mutter, skepticism sharp.

“Things have changed,” Kael says. “This attack will force their hand.”

Theron nods. “Not everyone in the Assembly supports Lucien. I’ve sensed opposition to his methods—support built on blackmail, not loyalty. I can rally allies.”

I glance at him despite myself, that strange energy from earlier flickering again. I look away fast. “So, we’re trusting vampires now?”

“Vera, we need a strong force to confront Marlowe,” Dad says. “Theron, are you willing to work with us?”

“Of course,” Theron replies without hesitation.

Kael nods. “This fight belongs to all of us.”

“Then it’s settled,” Dad concludes.

“No! Wait,” I blurt, then falter under their stares.

*Damn it.*

“Something to add?” Dad tilts his head.

I glare at Theron, then at my parents. I’ve no real objection beyond disliking him. I’m being unreasonable, and I know it. “No,” I mutter. “Sounds… fine.”

It sounds awful. But there’s no choice. Like it or not, I’ll deal with Theron Nightshade. For Gran, I’ll swallow my doubts—just this once. I just hope he doesn’t get in my way.