Read The Darkest Dream (The Darkest Trilogy) Online
Authors: Michelle Brewer
“It isn’t written history or anything, but folklore says that it began with a caster.”
That was the second time he’d mentioned that word, and I’d yet to know exactly what it was—though I assumed it had something to do with magic.
“She was said to have an ailing child—he was sickened by the sun, and sensitive to the elements.
The only treatment that seemed to help his illness was blood.
So the caster sacrificed
herself
, using dark
magicks
to enchant her blood so that, if ingested, the drinker would know eternal life.”
I couldn’t help but imagine the devotion a mother must feel toward her child to be willing to go to such extremes.
“She had hoped her blood would also act as a cure, but his need for human blood to survive continued.
He went on, living his life—stronger, faster, and healthier than he had ever been, though still confined to the night—lonely, but alive.
They say that he fell in love with a woman, and he attempted to exist without drinking blood; to have a normal life, so that be could be with her.
But his thirst overwhelmed him, and he killed her.
So desperate he was
,
he shared his blood with the woman, hoping the
magicks
would carry on.”
“And they did.”
“Yes, they did.
Which is why, it’s said,
we
have to share our blood with a human to create them.
There’s a remnant of those original dark
magicks
in every one of us.”
Darren fell quiet for a moment, and I considered everything he was telling me, imagining the story over and over in my mind.
“So it was all for love, really.”
I pointed out, wondering how such darkness had arisen from such pure origins.
The boy had been created out of love, and the next had been created out of the desire for love.
“Isn’t it always?”
He asked.
“Fear, greed, and jealousy, however, followed shortly thereafter, as they usually do.
I think you can assume how the story goes after that.”
I shook my head—not in response to him, but in response to what I imagined took place.
Greedy men, frightened masses…it was no wonder the vampires had become such monsters.
Well, that, and the fact that they needed human blood to live, I reminded myself.
Just because the intentions were pure didn’t mean that the results were.
After all, hadn’t Darren said that it was dark
magick
?
I sighed, not wanting to consider the morality of vampires too intensely.
I had a feeling there was a very large gray area, and I was overwhelmed as it was.
“Anything else?”
Darren questioned after a couple minutes of silence had passed.
There was so much more I didn’t even know where to start.
“What else is…
”
I paused, trying to come up with a way to phrase my question. “What else is in your arsenal?”
“Mine specifically, or vampires in general?”
He said the term with such ease.
I wondered if I would ever be able to do such a thing.
“Either.
Both.
I just…I want to know as much as I can, Darren.”
I told him.
Darren sighed softly before responding.
“Every vampire is born with exceptional strength, speed, and agility.”
I nodded.
This made sense, of course.
“We also have heightened senses—sight, scent, hearing.
Very sensitive.
With time, these traits can strengthen even more—and more will develop.
We have the ability to lull humans into sleep.”
“That explains a lot.”
I replied, thinking about how I’d slept so soundly even when I knew I shouldn’t have been able to.
“Why?”
“I assume it has something to do with being able to quiet your prey.”
I bristled slightly at the thought of humans as prey, but I brushed it off.
That’s what we were, weren’t we?
Darren continued on without my encouragement.
“Depending on one’s age, some can read minds, some can penetrate dreams,
some
can manipulate thoughts.”
“Can you—do you—”
“I’m sensitive to thoughts, yes.”
And suddenly things became clearer—the occasions it had seemed that he was answering a question I hadn’t even asked, or how he’d seemingly sensed what I felt without any expression on my part.
I couldn’t help but feel as if I’d been violated, wondering if he was listening to me even now.
“It’s not like a broadcast system.
I don’t hear everything that passes through your mind unless I make the effort to.”
He offered.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I just want you to know that I’m not always listening.”
“Don’t listen at all.
My thoughts are my own, and if I want to share them with you, then I will.”
I told him, crossing my arms over my chest, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I realized what he could have heard.
I told myself that, from now on, I would do my very best to keep my thoughts as task-oriented as possible—just to be on the safe side.
“Demetrius?”
I asked, once more directing the subject away from my mortification.
After all, knowing his abilities seemed very important to my survival.
“He is a very old, very powerful vampire, Lucinda.
His powers and abilities could, by now, be almost limitless.”
I bit my lip as I let the weight of his words wash over me.
He was telling me that Demetrius was stronger than him.
And if he was stronger…and we didn’t have any help…where did that leave us?
How could I even hope to escape this?
“What
are
your limits?”
It suddenly occurred to me that I’d yet to ask how to destroy a vampire.
This seemed like sensitive information, and I almost expected Darren not to answer.
Telling me how to kill a vampire—including himself—seemed to take a certain amount of trust.
But he didn’t even hesitate.
“The sun, for starters.”
He rose to his feet and glanced at the heavy curtains, reaching up as if to part them and I could tell that this saddened him.
I thought back to the paintings that had decorated his apartment—the various sunrises and sunsets.
I tried to imagine an eternity without the sun…how much would I miss the warmth of its rays?
The beauty of the sky as it descended?
“It’s incredibly difficult to kill a vampire, Lucinda.
But it isn’t impossible.”
He continued, turning away from the curtain and facing me now.
“The sun is always an effective tool.
Then there are stakes—but they
must
be silver.
Penetrate our heart with silver, and then burn the corpse.
And decapitation.”
“So…basically, it’s either silver or the sun?”
Useful information.
I doubted I would ever find myself in the position to decapitate a vampire, so I labeled it irrelevant.
“That’s it?”
No crosses, no holy water—nothing else?
Vampires
were
difficult to kill.
“That’s pretty much it.”
He replied, and I sighed.
“I take it garlic is a myth then.”
I added offhandedly.
And he laughed.
It was a beautiful sound—very soft and melodic, light and airy.
I burned the image of his face into my memory, deciding I would never forget this moment—not for as long as I lived.
“You can eat all the garlic you want.
It might ward off some humans, but vampires will not be discouraged.”
“Well there goes that plan,
”
I
said lightly, evoking another laugh.
This one was shorter, but it still stood out against all the memories so far.
“Oh Lucinda…”
He shook his head, a sad smile crossing his face.
“I’m so sorry you’ve gotten involved in all of this.”
“Would it sound totally weird to you if I told you…
”
I paused, my cheeks already reddening with embarrassment.
“If I told you that I think that all of this—that I think it’s sort of been waiting for me to stumble across it, like, deep down, I’ve known all along?”
His eyes held mine for quite some time before he finally shook his head.
“No…no, that wouldn’t sound strange at all.”
Something flickered in his eyes—something so quick I’d hardly noticed it before he turned and glanced toward the window.
I couldn’t deny the feeling that he wasn’t telling me something—something important, something about myself.
“What’s the
Lux
?”
I asked, almost as an afterthought.
Darren showed no reaction as he held my eyes, and suddenly I felt silly.
“I mean, I just—I heard Demetrius say something about it.”
“The
Lux
is nothing—an old vampire myth.”
“Does he think you have it?”
I asked, remembering how Darren had said he’d killed me—and how he’d told him the
Lux
was gone.
“Better yet, does he think I have it?”
Darren laughed then, that same melodious sound cascading over me.
I felt my cheeks warm with embarrassment.
“It’s just that—I heard him say it, after you told him you’d killed me.”
“I only meant to throw him off.
That night in the diner, Demetrius was pressing me for information.
He seems to think the myth is not only real, but that I
have
it—which is ridiculous, because it’s not real.”
“But if he thinks it
is
real, and that you have it—”
“We were already under the assumption that he wasn’t going to back down, Lucinda.
Nothing has changed.”
The sharp tone of his voice was enough to shut me down, and I nodded, looking to the floor.
He was right—regardless of the reason, Demetrius wasn’t going anywhere.
And, despite what I told myself—I couldn’t ignore the feeling that we weren’t going to make it through this.
“It’s almost
time
.”
Darren announced, and I wondered if he was trying to distract me.
Had he been listening in?
Just because I asked him not to didn’t mean that he was actually going to stop.
“Has it really been that long?”
I questioned, glancing toward the window, longing for the sun to continue glowing for just awhile longer.
I wasn’t ready for this moment to end.
I still had so many questions—so much more to know and understand.
And I couldn’t help but worry that he might not be back.
“I won’t be long.”
He told me and I nodded, knowing I couldn’t make him stay.
“You’ll be safe while I’m gone.”
“I just don’t want you to go,
”
I
said softly, shrugging my shoulders.
I didn’t want him to leave—I didn’t want to be alone.
And I didn’t want to take the chance that this would be the last time I saw him.
“You’ll be sick of me by the time all of this is over, I’m sure.”
“I doubt that.”
I told him, meaning it.
Darren’s eyes softened as they held mine for a long moment.
In the back of my mind, I heard him telling me not to care for him—and I pushed it away, wishing to forget it.
“I’m sorry about earlier, Lu—”
“Don’t,
”
I
gave a firm shake of my head.
“Don’t worry about it, Darren.”
Remembering the words caused a dull ache to spread within my chest—because, somehow, I
did
care.
I knew that I shouldn’t, and I knew that it didn’t make sense.
But I cared.
“This is nothing but business.”
I told him, contradicting my thoughts and feelings, hoping he wasn’t still eavesdropping.
“Business,
”
he
repeated softly, nodding his head.
He glanced at the curtains again, which were now barely even glowing.
“I think it’s going to storm tonight.”
I
nodded,
wondering if that meant anything special.
“It should be cloudy enough for me to leave now.”