Black Sunshine: A Dark Vampire Romance

“Skarde’s issues are with me. Not with Lenore,” Solon says tightly, still trying to struggle against their boney grasp. “Let her go. Do what you will with me, but your fight is not with her.”

Yanik lets out a sour laugh. “Your father doesn’t want you, Stavig, sorry to disappoint. He has Kaleid, he’s all he’ll ever need. I know it must hurt you to be cast aside the way you were, in favor of his natural-born son, and he’s just half a vampire! But you’re nothing to him. Not even a threat. That’s what pisses you off most of all, isn’t it? That your father isn’t even a little bit afraid of you. Oh, your ego must be shattering with the blows.”

But I can tell Solon isn’t even listening to Yanik anymore.

He’s listening to me.

Even with his eyes on Yanik, I can feel him reach for me in my mind.

Lenore, he says, and he says my name like an apology.

I refuse to let him be sorry about anything, not yet.

Snap your fingers, I tell him. Do it.

I feel his confusion, his hesitation.

I can’t, he says. Yanik is too big, too much. I don’t have that kind of power. I can’t set him on fire.

He’s right. Almost.

But I do have that power, I tell him determinedly. With your help, I can do this.

Lenore…He swallows as Yanik prattles on about something or other, really trying to drive home the whole “daddy issues” thing.

I stare at him hard, trying to compel him if he won’t listen. Do it, Solon. Light me on fire.

He steals a quick glance at me when Yanik is occupied by the others, shaking his head ever so slightly. It won’t be enough.

I’ll make it enough, I say, and there’s something deep within that’s nodding its head, like my body is suddenly being shared by some other force, someone I don’t know. I don’t think they mean me harm, but they’re here. I can make it enough, I can take your fire and let it fuel me, you just have to light me up.

He swallows hard, lips pressed together in a thin white line. What if you don’t survive it?

I’ll survive it.

Another sad shake of his head. I can’t lose you, moonshine.

You will if you don’t do this. So do it. I’m ready.

He looks away, trying to come to terms with what I’m asking him. Silence fills the space between us, even with Yanik still talking.

Do it, Solon. For me. For us. Please. It’s all we’ve got.

Pain washes over his face, his cool façade crumbling. You are mine for the ages, Lenore. I won’t ever forget it.

From the anguish in his blue eyes, I realize what’s at stake here. Despite what I feel inside, despite what I survived as a child, there’s a chance that I won’t survive this now. I mean, I’m asking him to light me on fire like I’m made of gasoline. I might burn myself alive.

I might die.

Oh fuck.

Solon adjusts his stance and my eyes go down to his fingers, held in the snap position.

Wait, I cry out, every emotion suddenly flooding through me at the prospect of my death. I love you.

His jaw goes tight, his lips in a twisted smile. I know.

Oh god, he just Hans Soloed me.

“Do it!” I yell out loud, giving him no choice now.

Yanik snaps to attention, turning to look at me with wide eyes, then he’s moving fast in my direction.

Solon’s voice sinks into my head, Imagine the fire.

Then he brings his fingers together.

SNAP.

I close my eyes, imagining the fire, trying to become the fire, and I feel his spark hit my skin, and I pull up, up and up, from the dark well inside me, calling on the magic, black or light, any kind to save me in this moment, to take his spark and light me ablaze.

Something inside me churns with immense power, and a deep, unfamiliar voice inside my head asks, Are you sure, child?

I think of what Solon told me, how the candle flame needs just enough force to make it burn bright, and I answer the call.

Yes, I’m sure.

Then the well inside me ignites, catching Solon’s spark and suddenly my entire body goes up in flames.

I’m on fire.

I am the fire.

The fire rises.

With a growl I reach out and lunge for Yanik, the ropes already disintegrating, burning away with the chair. I grab hold of him, sinking my teeth into his old flesh, tearing at his throat, spitting out the skin and blood, and it’s enough to let the flames leap onto him.

Yanik screams, and then I’m pushing him to the ground, holding him there, smothering him. The fire that grows from my skin, that surrounds me from head to toe, is now spreading on him until he’s as much on fire as I am.