Dark Curse (Darkhaven Saga #5) - Danielle Rose Page 0,20

skin. When I close my eyes now, there is nothing but silence and darkness—much like my future.

I lean back against the wicker sofa I have claimed, pulling my legs up so I can sit cross-legged on the cushion. I teeter, grunting because this simple effort exerts me. When I have finished tucking my feet beneath my legs and finally steady myself so I do not tumble over, I am breathing heavily. If the vampires notice, they do not say anything. I do not look at them either, because I hate what I see when I do.

Pity.

All I ever see anymore is pity, from the hunters and Holland and Amicia and all her vampires. Everyone feels bad that I am slowly dying. Do they not understand that I can’t bear spending my final days drowning in my sorrows? I am up to my neck in water, frantically searching for the shallows as I breathe in the murky depths.

If I do not want to talk about it or even think about my situation, I certainly do not want to see the anguish in their eyes.

With my hands in my lap, I scratch at my cuticles, picking until another hangnail bleeds. I wince as blood pools into a tiny bubble. It is so small, barely even a speck of a dot, but the black is so bright against my pale skin. I wait for it to seep into my nail bed, but it does not. There is not even enough blood to fill that tiny line at the base of my fingernail. I think about what I am doing right now and come to a stark realization: maybe I really am pathetic.

“Ava,” someone says, and I tear my gaze from my hands, looking up to meet her eyes.

Amicia is standing before me, frowning as her gaze lowers to my hands. I must look pathetic next to her. From where I sit, Amicia looks tall and lanky, and she radiates a powerful essence.

Ever since I cast my spell, I have not felt that innate draw to her that I once did. As a vampire, I could sense her strength even if she was not in the same room as me. It had a smell to it, and the scent lingered in the air. Amicia has a pull, an allure in her aura that makes her formidable. She is probably the oldest, most powerful vampire I will ever meet.

Her black dress looks silky and shimmery as it cascades down her frame. The arms are lacy and pristine. Her hands are collapsed at her waist, her nails painted black. Her hair is shiny and sleek, brushed back and tied tightly behind her.

Jasik approaches us, and I look over at him in time to see his expression change. He is concerned about something—but what? I look back at Amicia, but she is looking over at Jasik now. She shakes her head, waves him away with her hand. Her hair, which is twisted into a bun at the base of her neck, glistens in the light when she moves.

Amicia returns her attention to me, ignoring Jasik until he begrudgingly leaves us. The other vampires back away as well, but I catch sight of them before they go. Their eyes are wide, hungry.

I gasp, glancing down at the speckle of blood that is already drying. How could I have been so stupid? I am a human in a house full of vampires. How ignorant can I be to harm myself in front of them?

“How are you feeling today?” Amicia asks, sounding much more like a therapist than a vampire.

I shrug. “I was not thinking.”

She smiles at me. “It is okay.”

She ushers to sit down beside me, so I scoot over, dropping my legs to give her space. The soles of my shoes land in a thud against the tile floor.

Amicia sits but turns so she is facing me. She eyes me curiously, not speaking.

I begin to gnaw on my lip, waiting for her to say something, until the silence is so loud, I have to speak.

“I am sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?” she asks, seeming thoroughly confused.

“I should not have…” I glance down at my lap. I wipe the dried blood from my hand, flicking the remains to the floor with one quick thrust. I fist my hands and bury them between my thighs. Maybe if the vampires cannot smell my open wound, they will not feel the desire to rip out my throat.

Amicia pulls my arms free and rests