Page 26 of A Touch of Darkness
“They don’t know what they’re dealing with,” Isabel interrupts, her tone razor-sharp. “We do. We’ve tracked them for years. There’s a string of victims, Sylvie, all linked by these… attacks. And Lara?—”
A tremor of pain lances through me at my sister’s name. I press my palms to my temples, trying to block out the image forming in my mind. “Stop,” I whisper, my voice taut with grief. “I can’t—this doesn’t make any sense. Vampires? What—you’re saying she was targeted?”
Isabel takes a step closer. “There’s more to Blackthorne than you realize. More than any human realizes. You’ve seen it yourself—the warnings, the secrets. Vampires are real, and they killed Lara.”
I stare at her, tears burning behind my eyes, but confusion swallows me whole. A part of me wants to rage, to scream that I’ll take down whoever did this. Another part can’t accept that my sister was murdered for reasons I don’t understand. “But… I don’t know if I can believe you,” I mumble, voice quivering. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because we’ve seen it happen before,” Isabel says firmly. “You’ve seen enough strange things at Blackthorne to know something’s off. You felt it. And now you have your answer.”
I clutch my arms, trying to ground myself.
“Not all vampires are evil,” I say at last, mind flashing to Lucian, to the conflicting sense of danger and solace I felt around him. “Your society wants to rid the world of vampires. You can’t blame every single vampire for what happened.”
“Maybe not,” Isabel concedes, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. “But that doesn’t change the fact that your sister was murdered by them.”
My heart twists, tears overflowing despite my attempt to hold them back. “Why would anyone do that? She never hurt anyone,” I whisper, shaking my head as I sink onto the edge of my bed.
Isabel exhales softly, stepping closer. “I know how it sounds. But I want you to understand that the danger is real. These creatures… they don’t care about your grief. They see humans as disposable. And you—Sylvie—you’re more than human in their eyes. You’re an opportunity, a weapon. Like your sister was.”
Professor Draedon said the Society would use me as a weapon.
Everything inside me clenches at her words. I think about the professor’s warnings, about the Solstice Society, about secrets I barely grasp. “I—I don’t know,” I stammer, pressing my fists against my thighs. “I don’t know what to believe. I don’t?—”
Isabel steps forward, her voice gentler but still laced with urgency. “I know this is overwhelming. But if you want to make sure no one else loses a sister like you just did… you need to listen. Come with me. My advisors can help you find answers.”
My gaze lifts to hers, and a roiling unease churns in my gut. Something about her feels off, cold. I don’t trust her, not really—she’s been too secretive, too manipulative. Yet her words slice through my brain, scraping raw wounds in my heart. I want to know the truth, but not from her.
I inhale deeply, closing my eyes and trying to figure out who to trust. What to believe. How to move forward. She isn’t being truthful. I feel a strange sensation, a pull trying to move me farther from Isabel. Something isn’t right here. Her words don’t feel…accurate. Something deep inside my bones tells me to run.
I haven’t had a feeling like this with Nicole and Rebecca. And sure, Professor Draedon makes me feel…certain things. But it’s nothing like how Isabel’s presence is throwing me off.
Trust your gut. Trust your instincts.My mother’s words play on repeat in my mind.
“No,” I say, my voice trembling yet firm. “I can’t go anywhere with you. I don’t trust you. And… I’m not sure what you’re even asking me to do. If vampires really killed her, I—I need to figure this out on my own.” I don’t want to totally shut her down, just in case I need her eventually, but I also have a deep, guttural feeling telling me she isn’t being truthful.
“I’m offering you a chance to do more than just ‘figure this out,’” Isabel insists, frustration flickering across her face. “I’m offering a way to make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. You loved your sister, Sylvie. Don’t you want to act?”
I look down, tears silently tracking my cheeks. “Don’t question my love for my sister, Isabel. That’s not the way to get me to trust you, I can assure you of that.”
A tense silence stretches. Isabel’s jaw works, as if she’s holding back some barbed retort. Finally, she inhales slowly. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she says, though her tone betrays little actual sympathy. She slips a piece of paper into my hand, and I unwrap it and find a cell phone number inside. “If you change your mind, you can call me.”
Without another word, she steps away. The chill of her presence still clings to the room, making my skin prickle.
My heart thuds heavily as I watch Isabel leave, guilt and grief tangling in my chest. Part of me wants to scream at the world for doing this to Lara, but another part just wants to close my eyes and pretend none of this is real. The police, the vampires, the hollow emptiness—I feel like a broken marionette, flung aside by cruel puppeteers.
When the door clicks shut, I finally let out a ragged breath. A thousand questions whirl through my mind—about Isabel, about vampires, about who or what might have taken Lara’s life. I think of Nicole and Rebecca, and the honesty they gave me. How they risked things just telling me about the supernaturals. I think of Professor Draedon, whose quiet confidence and intelligence makes me feel safe but somehow off-kilter.
I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand, the grief still pressing down on me like a crushing weight. Who can I trust now? The question lodges in my soul, and no number of tears can wash it away.
Because Lara is gone. And I don’t know which way to turn.
Sylvie.
I freeze. It’s faint, barely more than a whisper, but it’s unmistakable. It’s her. Again. It’s her voice again. Just like the other day.
It’s Lara.
I clutch at my head, my breath hitching. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, this isn’t real. I’m going crazy. I am one hundred percent losing my fucking mind.” I pant, unable to catch my breath. “It’s this fucking university, isn’t it?”
