The Blood is Love (Dark Eyes 2)

The Dark One.

I don’t even want to think it.

I remember Jeremias’s eyes turning yellow, like a snake, his feet turning to hooves. The blackened blood that burned my flesh.

Oh, god.

“God can’t hear you here, Lenore,” Jeremias says, with a conviction that chills me to the bone. “And he can’t help you, either. Your god would have let you die at the hands of that vampire. But the Dark One, he can always help, if you know how to call him. And you will. With practice, you will.”

He leans in closer, and I smell the stench of decay on his breath. “Did you know that you could have saved your friend Elle? That she didn’t have to die?”

I glare at him, my heart thumping unevenly in my chest. “What the fuck are you talking about? How dare you even say her name.”

“I dare because you deserve to know the truth. You could have turned her into a vampire. Did you even think of that?”

My mouth drops open and I snap it shut. “I did think of that. Of course I did. But Solon stopped me. Because I would have turned her into a monster.” Just like him, I add.

“Not you, Lenore. Your powers are intention. Intention is the basis of all witchcraft. You could turn anyone into a vampire and they won’t go mad, they won’t turn into a monster. You have that power, and only you, because of your duality. You’re prized, you know. Your blood. Why do you think Skarde wants to destroy you?”

I stare at him, trying to piece it all together, make it make sense. All that he just said about Elle, that I could have saved her…I can’t. I can’t even entertain the thought because the guilt will eat me alive, the idea that she could still be alive. Be a vampire. Living in the house with me.

My heart is shattering.

I push it aside.

“He wants to destroy me because I have power to destroy him,” I eventually say.

He gives me a cold smile. “So much confidence for someone who has turned her back on the craft. No, Lenore. You alone can’t destroy him, but you are definitely needed in the process. That is not why he wants to destroy you, however. It’s because you can undo all he has done. He’s creating an army, one that’s both mad and monstrous, but controlled. Vampires have been forbidden from creating new ones by the bite, because it is too dangerous. Too dangerous for anyone but him. But you, you Lenore, you can do it. You can build an army of your own, of rational, sane vampires. No more monsters. Isn’t that nice?”

His words fall on me like snow, taking a moment to sink in.

I can do what?

Create my own non-mad army?

I can create vampires that won’t turn into a beast?

“Does…” I lick my lips, trying to swallow the enormity of it all, “does Solon know this about me?”

Because if he does, that means he’s been using me all this time, and…

Jeremias stares at me, thinking it over. As if the answer is more than a yes or a no.

“No,” he eventually says, and my heart flutters with relief. “He doesn’t. But if you told him, it would change things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he already knows you’re somehow instrumental in helping defeat his father. Do you really want to be pulled into that?”

I adjust myself on the moss, my legs starting to feel cramped, and pull my robe closer around me. “I’ll do anything to help him defeat Skarde, because I would do anything for him. Also, and a big also, his father tried to kill me. I won’t forget that. I hold grudges.”

His lips twist into something like a smile. “Good. Because that is how it is foretold.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mentioned before that I have seen the future.”

I stare blankly at him. “Yeah? And?”

“You will be instrumental, Lenore. Against Absolon’s wishes.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says with a patient sigh, “he needs you, but he will do all that he can to keep you back. When the time comes, you’ll know.”

I frown. “Are you purposefully being vague or…?”

“I’m not. I see the future, but it’s based on feelings, not visions, and not specifics.”

“Great,” I mutter.

“I’m not sure you understand the magnitude of what has happened to you and what is about to happen,” he says, suddenly getting to his feet. I stare at his feet for a moment—boots, not cloven hooves—before I look up at him. “A man will come for you both. You must go with him. Together you can help defeat Skarde. Make no mistake, he is not easy to kill. It will take all of you to complete the task.”

“The task?” I repeat. “Defeat? Do you know how bonkers that sounds?”

His eyes narrow and a flash of yellow slides across his pupils, making me flinch and feel sick to my stomach. “I know this all feels like a joke to you, but I assure you, if you don’t take it seriously, the gravity will come too late. You didn’t take your lover’s transformation seriously, and look where it got you.”