Three days. Three days that I had been trying to fix that stupid glass, and so far the progress was minimal. If I didn't already know that time was not on our side, William reminded me of it multiple times a day. But despite my strongest efforts, the glass wouldn't budge. I had managed to make it tremble for a second, but that was the extent of it, to everyone's frustration.
"She's worthless," Veronica spat at me, her lips curled with disdain. She had called me worse in the last couple of days. Her hate for me didn't seem to shrink, on the contrary.
"Vee," Caelan warned.
"What? Are you blind? She can't do anything," Veronica sniffed. "We're wasting our time with her."
My hands fisted into balls, my nails digging into my palms. I quickly realized it, and forced myself to release the pressure. But she was right. I was useless to them if I couldn't use my powers. Would I ever be able to? Were they even real?
Caelan turned to William, anxiously. But the vampire didn't move, or say anything, his eyes trained on me. I didn't have to look at him to know, I could feel the weight of his stare. When I finally looked, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his face focused. What was he thinking about?
"There's no we," Caelan eventually said to his sister.
"Since you're in my home, there is."
"That's my home too!" he pointed out, throwing his hands in the hair, as if what he was saying wasn't obvious.
I smiled at their bickering. Despite not liking Veronica very much - okay, not at all - I did enjoy hearing them bicker. It was rare to see someone treat Caelan that way.
I walked over to the small wooden bench near the door and grabbed the half empty bottle of water I brought for our training before bringing it to my lips. The training sessions were intense, both mentally and physically. Despite not having to move, sweat beaded my forehead and neck.
"Leave us," William's voice echoed in the room, turning everyone's attention to him. He detached himself from the opposite wall and slowly walked to us. Caelan's surprised eyes moved between William and I. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
I stood by the door, the water bottle still in my hands, wondering what to do.
"Will—" Caelan tried, but the low growl that escaped the older vampire's throat was enough of a warning to shut him up.
Veronica rolled her eyes, flicked her hair over her shoulder and started for the door, her chin held high, her high heels clicking on the wooden floor. She gave me one last glare, her lips still curled against her teeth as if the very sight of me made her sick, and disappeared into the hallway.
"Good luck," Caelan said as he started to follow her, making me frown. What was that supposed to mean? "Come on White Fang, let's get you something to eat," he added to Dee who was comfortably sitting in the corner of the room. Her head switched back and forth between me and Caelan, before she jumped to her paws and started to follow him. I was only starting to get used to her trusting William so much. She would never have left me alone in a room with anyone before.
I looked at them as they crossed the hallway before turning my head back to William who was approaching me silently, his gaze piercing. The tingling feeling became stronger the closest he got to me, my body temperature instantly rising up. He stopped right in front of me, and scanned my face, a half smile quickly appearing at the corner of his lips. He extended his arms, making me flinch, and reached for the door beside me, closing it in one swift movement. My reaction didn't go unnoticed. His head tilted and his eyebrows flexed.
"Why are you still scared of me?"
It took me a second to realize what he'd asked me, surprised by the emotions I could read in his eyes. He looked curious and also surprised, and although it was gone in a flash, I could have sworn I saw pain as well.
"I'm not scared of you," I asserted. And it was true. I wasn't scared of him. Not anymore at least. What I was scared of on the other hand was my body's reaction to him. The pull to him that seemed impossible to resist, the heat, the tingles, the jolts— everything that my body did when he was near me. What I truly was scared of was my own ability to resist my body's calls for him.
William smiled.
"You're a terrible liar," he said as he shook his head slightly.
"I'm not ly—" I began but he grabbed my arm and twirled me around until my back came crashing against his chest, one hand still holding my forearm while his other arm snaked around my throat. I gasped. Not because I was scared like he seemed to believe, but because of how my body responded to his. I felt on fire, my heart beating unreasonably fast. The sensation of his skin on mine, of my body against his was like nothing I experienced before. But despite the confusion and alarm, I didn't want to move away. His head lowered down my neck, his lips brushing against my ear, covering my skin with tiny pimples. I stopped breathing.
"You were saying?" he teased, perfectly aware of my body's reaction to his. The fog that blurried my thoughts suddenly cleared up.
"I am not afraid of you," I repeated more assertively. If he wanted proof, I would give it to him. Without thinking twice, I bent my free arm and elbowed him in the ribs with a strength I didn't know I had in me. He released a hush sound, his torso bending over at the sudden hit, and I took advantage of it to get free from his grasp. I turned around to face him once more, ready to kick him again to prove my point. His face showed no pain at all, only surprise and amusement. A soft laugh escaped his lips.
"What was that for?"
"To make you believe me. Should I demonstrate one more time?"
He shook his head at my comment, a grin hanging at his lips.
"Your heartbeat doesn't lie," he said, still not believing me. For someone who could read my thoughts, he was awfully hard to persuade.
"That's not because of fear," I said, suddenly realizing what I was admitting, heat creeping up my cheeks. His head tilted with interest, his grin growing larger. "It's because I'm angry–" I quickly corrected myself. "You make me mad, that's it."
"Is that so?" he teased, clearly not believing me again. And why would he? If my thoughts didn't betray me, the redness of my cheeks would. "You're not very convincing, you know."
Oh he didn't just say that. He wanted convincing? I would give him convincing.
"Let me demonstrate again then."
I didn't give him time to think before I lunged at him. My plan was simple: distract him by making him believe I was going to punch him, when all the action actually happened with my legs. I just wanted to knock him off his feet. That should be enough to prove my point. I was a trained hunter, I could do it.
While his eyes were on my raised fist, I built momentum with my leg and went for a sidekick, aiming for his knees. The diversion didn't work as well as I expected, and while he easily dodged my fake attempts at a punch, he also as easily took hold of my leg, right before it made contact with his. I was lying on the cold hardwood floor before I even realized what happened, William hovering above me, holding his weight up on his hands pressed on either side of my head, a satisfied smile on his lips. I suddenly realized he directed my fall so that I wouldn't hit the floor too hard.
"Nice try," he said, pulling me out of my thoughts, his eyes glittering with entertainment. I blew out a frustrated breath. A vampire against an unharmed human? What were the odds?
"It's not really a fair fight," I pointed out, my brows turning into a frown as my frustration rose.
"Your opponents aren't gonna play fair, you need to learn how to fight properly," he answered, balancing on his arms with grace and ease I could only envy.
I bit my lip not to smile at the idea that crossed my mind. He wasn't playing fair, why should I? The way his eyes followed the movement of my lips didn't go unnoticed, rising my body temperature to boiling.
Before I did something extremely stupid and let my body give in to the urge it felt to break the distance between us, I bent my knee and aimed for a particularly sensitive spot.
"Is that your definition of a fair fight?" he asked, his hand suddenly on my knee, blocking its access to its target. I wanted to scream my frustration. Whatever I did, he always anticipated the move. How was I supposed to fight someone who could read my thoughts and thus knew exactly my plan of attack?
"Like you said," I said, trying to focus my thoughts despite the fireworks his hand on my knee generated in me. "My opponents aren't gonna play fair, why should I?"
A soft laugh escaped his lips.
"So much violence for such a small body."
His hand moved from my knee to my hand before it reached his face, stopping my attempt at punching him. He smiled again, his fingers clasped around my wrist.
"So violent," he said, shaking his head in wonder, not letting go of my hand.
"You have no idea," I answered with a sly smile. Knowing that he'd have no way to counter my attack with one arm holding him up from crashing onto me and the other holding my wrist, I made my move. Shock and pain twisted his features when my knee finally made contact with its original target, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"You did not—" he said, his voice roak, his body as stiff as a corpse.
"Oh I did," I answered, trying to hold back a laugh. If he killed me now, the look on his face would have been worth it.
He didn't move but his grip on my wrist tightened slightly, his eyes turning darker by the second.
"Don't move," he ordered through a clenched jaw.
His eyes had turned completely black and were fixed on mine. The realization of what I had just done hit me, and my heart skipped a beat. It was easy to forget what he was. Why did I do that to a vampire? I stared back at him wondering what was going on in his head at that moment. Was he weighing whether to kill me now or not? But he didn't look angry. No, he simply looked tortured. He looked like he was fighting with himself, and I knew it was my fault.
I didn't dare to move or say anything until I knew it would be safe, and at that moment, it wasn't. The pressure on my wrist eventually loosened and the black of his eyes started to fade.
"Still not afraid of you," I whispered, not willing to test him further, but determined to make him understand I truly wasn't. I knew he needed me alive to fix the Gates, but that wasn't the only reason I wasn't afraid. I couldn't explain it, I simply felt it. He wouldn't hurt me, not voluntarily at least. And the more time I spent with him, the stronger that feeling of safety grew.
"I could've killed you," he growled as he let go of my wrist and moved away from me.
"For kicking you?" I asked, sitting straight. "That's a bit extre–."
"You really don't realize what you do to me. You're–" he began, stopping before I could hear the rest of his thoughts. The desperation on his face made me wish he'd have finished that sentence. What could possibly make him feel like this? "I could kill you in a heartbeat."
That, I knew. It was clear that any of them could kill me before I even realized what happened to me. I felt more vulnerable than ever when I was around the vampires, yet I didn't fear William.
"Well, we're lucky you don't have one then," I answered, hoping to make him relax a little, but my humor had no effect on him.
"This is not a joke, Charlotte," he said, frustration clear in his voice. "If I wanted to hurt you right now, you couldn't do anything about it."
I frowned. Why did he seem to think I should be scared of him? I pressed my hands against the floor to help me up and took a step closer to him. His body tensed as I did so, and I stopped.
"Do you want to hurt me?" I asked, looking straight into his dark eyes. Although his pupils weren't completely black anymore, they were far from their usual golden-brown tone. He stared back at me, his eyebrows flexed.
"Of course not, but that doesn't mean I–"
"Then why should I be afraid?" I cut him off.
"Because I'm not sure I–" he started to exclaim, but again didn't finish his sentence and sighed instead, dragging his hands over face.
"Why should I be afraid, William?" I asked again. I needed to know the reason he was acting that way, needed to make him understand no matter what he'd say I wouldn't be afraid.
"You know what I am, what I'm capable of."
Flashes of the young vampire's body covered in blood and lying in William's entryway came back to me. I knew he was no angel, but he killed that vampire to protect Dee, to protect me. That didn't make him a monster, despite what I thought when I first met him. He proved to be anything but that.
"Is that supposed to make me fear you? You are what you are, but I know I'm not in danger with you."
Please don't prove me wrong, I thought for a second as he kept on scrutinizing me.
"What makes you so sure of that?"
I blanked. No answer came to my mind. Why was I so sure I wasn't in danger with him? He was right, he could kill me in seconds. There was no rational explanation. He was a vampire, a killer. But I knew in my bones I wasn't in danger. I knew danger, I knew what it felt like to be scared of death. And what I was feeling when I was around him was the opposite of that. I felt warm and safe, and alive.
His face looked as tortured as it did earlier. I wanted to break the small distance between us, to take him in my arms. To show him I wasn't scared instead of desperately trying to tell him so. But I didn't move.
"Even if you were not in danger with me, you are with other creatures," he conceded after a moment of silence, his features less tensed somehow. "You need to learn how to defend yourself."
"I know how to fight, I've been–"
"You don't. The only reason you are still alive despite what you are is because of your blade, not your fighting skills."
"My blade?" I asked, confused. "The reason I am still alive is because I know how to use it."
He shook his head.
"You don't know what it's made of," he realized. "Of course you don't."
"What are you talking about?"
"Who gave it to you?" he answered, ignoring my question. "Your mom? Your dad?"
The memory of my parents hit me like a wall.
Little six-year-old Charlotte was sitting in her mom's arms on the old sofa, her dad sat on the coffee table in front of them. Michael kept glancing at his wife as he fiddled with something in his hand.
"Do you remember the stories mommy and daddy told you? About the Darkness, and the Light?" he asked and little six-year-old Charlotte nodded, tightening her grip on her stuffed bunny. She had always been scared of the stories her parents told her. They were dark and gruesome.
"Darkness is everywhere around us, looking for the light," Michael continued, his voice soft. "You are the Light, Charlie."
"Is Darkness looking for me? Do I need to hide?" Little Charlotte asked, clueless to the world.
"There is no hiding from the Darkness, pumpkin. Darkness will always find you," her dad answered.
"I don't want it to find me!" Charlotte cried out, eyes filled with tears as panic and terror rose inside her.
"We don't want it to find you either, sweetie," Elizabeth answered, holding her daughter even closer against her.
"But– but you can push it away, can't you, daddy?" Charlotte asked, her lower lip quivering.
"We won't always be with you, love."
"Why? Where will you go?"
"I can't do this, Michael," Elizabeth said, holding a sob.
"We have to," her husband told her before looking back at his scared daughter. "We will always be with you here," he said, placing a finger on the left side of her chest.
"I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be alone."
"You won't be alone, pumpkin," Michael said, holding onto her hand tightly. "Someday, you will meet your Prince Charming."
"Like in the fairy tales?"
"Yes, like in the fairy tales. But he won't be any ordinary prince. Your prince will be made of Darkness and Light."
Little Charlotte gasped.
"I don't want a dark prince. I want you, daddy. And mommy."
"Your prince will protect you with his life. You will be safe with him. All darkness is not evil, pumpkin, remember that."
"Don't tell her that," Elizabeth said. "She needs to know what's out there looking for her."
Michael's gaze met Charlotte's again.
"Until you meet your prince, you need to learn how to fight the Darkness," he said before placing something cold and heavy in her little hands. "This will protect you."
It didn't take long for Charlotte to understand that what was in her hands was a blade. Made entirely of steel, its handle carved straight from it.
"You need to be very careful with this, sweetie," Elizabeth told her daughter. "It won't keep the darkness away, but it will stop it from hurting you. Keep it always with you, do you understand? It's very important, Charlie."
Little Charlotte didn't understand the despair in her mom's voice, but she nodded.
"And always aim for the heart, pumpkin," her dad added.
The next day, Michael had started training his daughter on how to use the blade.
I felt dizzy at the memory I didn't know I still had of that day. How did my parents know I would meet someone? Could the Dark Prince my dad mentioned be William? No, how could he have possibly known I'd meet him?
'All darkness is not evil'. My dad's words echoed in my head as my legs wobbled under my weight.
"Careful there," I heard, the room suddenly twirling before my eyes.
A pair of arms wrapped around me and helped me down to one of the armchairs near the hearth of the fireplace.
"Are you alright?" William asked, handing me the bottle of water I brought in the room with me. I grabbed it with a shaky hand and took a sip, trying not to spill it everywhere.
"I—," I began, not sure what to answer. Was I alright? No. That memory left me so shaken I felt nauseous. I swallowed, focusing on my breathing to calm myself down. "Yes, I'm fine."
It was obvious from the look on his face that he didn't believe me. I shifted in the chair and brought my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
"What's the blade made of?" I asked to move on from the painful memory of my parents. His brows furrowed but he didn't insist. Instead, he sat down in the dark green velvety armchair facing mine.
"Holy steel," he answered, and a small laugh escaped my lips. It quickly stopped when I noticed he wasn't joking. "Your blade is a holy weapon that belongs to an Angel. One of your parents I believe." When I didn't answer, too stunned to make up words, he continued, "It can kill anything, no matter what creature."
"I stabbed Caelan with it!" I suddenly exclaimed, realizing I could have killed him, and wondering how he was still alive if the blade was so deadly.
"He was lucky, you didn't pierce his heart. Aim for the heart, and there isn't one creature that wouldn't die from the wound."
Goosebumps broke across my skin at the thought of the creature I had stabbed in the tunnels, and that didn't die. Its heart wasn't in its chest. Or maybe it didn't even have a heart. The memory of all the other creatures I had killed hit me nearly as hard as the one of my parents. 'Always aim for the heart'. That was what I had done all my life. That's how I stayed alive, how I managed to kill vampires when without my dad's blade I wouldn't have been able to.
"Put a knife in my heart and I'll laugh– might get a little irritated too," he laughed softly. "But put that blade of yours in my heart and I'll die."
My heart tightened at the thought. It ached to think of William wounded, but thinking of him dying was simply physically painful. How did I grow so attached to him in so little time?
"Are you telling me how to kill you?" I teased, hoping to hide my initial reaction.
"Do you intend on taking advantage of that information?"
I held up his gaze for a few seconds, and answered, "I'm not quite sure yet."
He smiled, his eyes still trained on me as if I was a puzzle he couldn't quite put together.
We sat in silence for a while, my thoughts wandering everywhere, a multitude of questions popping up the more I thought of my parents, of the blade, of who I was. William looked as lost in his thoughts as I was, now staring at the empty fireplace.
I kept thinking of my parents, and what my dad told me that day. 'A prince made of Darkness and Light'. A part of me wanted to believe my prince charming was William, that the light in him was how human he still was. But it wasn't a rational thought. How could my prince be a vampire? There couldn't be a future for us. How could my parents have possibly known what would happen in the future? It was impossible. If they had known, they would have told me who I was, and prepared me for what was in store for me. I wouldn't be so clueless and lost and overwhelmed with it all.
"William?" I called and he turned his head towards me. "How are you so sure I'm the only Nephilim alive? What if there's another one– one not as useless as I am, and who can actually use their abilities?"
"You're not useless, Charlotte," he said and I truly wanted to believe him but the evidence was against me. I couldn't fix a stupid glass, how could I fix the Gates of Hell? "You're powerful, you need to realize that. You just need to learn how to unleash that power."
Easier said than done.
"But there must be someone else," I pleaded, seriously doubting I could just learn how to 'unleash my powers'. "I can't possibly be humanity's last hope."
The muscles of his jaw twitched as he looked at me with finality in his eyes.
"You are. There is no other Nephilim," he answered, his voice empty of doubt. "There's never been two Nephilims alive at the same time– Simply too dangerous and risky. Angels very rarely came down on Earth before they went extinct. As far as I know, very few of them did and less than a handful had children. The last known Nephilim existed before the War."
"What happened to the Nephilim?"
"He died," he answered, his eyes full of sorrow.
Was William alive during the War? Did he remember what it was like? Did he know the last Nephilim? Again, a million questions popped through my mind. "But not before the Gates were open. He was the reason there was a War in the first place. The Gates had been locked for a very long time, and when his blood opened the Gates, Angels came down to stop the Underworld from crawling up.
"It was a massacre on all sides– Angels, creatures and humans alike. We all thought the Angels all died then. In the chaos, the Nephilim tried to close it back, but he was killed before he could close it completely, leaving a breach."
My chest heaved in irregular motions. His words awakened the terror I had started to feel since he told me about the breach in the Gates. What happened to the Nephilim could happen to me. I could be the reason for the end of the world. Because there wouldn't be any Angels to come to our rescue if the Gates opened this time. Chills travelled down my spine at the thought.
"Our blood doesn't work if we're dead–" I suddenly realized.
William nodded.
"That's why they need you alive, why those creatures didn't kill you back at my place."
I suddenly felt jittery and restless. I got off the armchair and walked over to the window overlooking the estate.
"I wish my parents were here," I said, looking at the garden through the window. "I wish they'd told me what I am... I feel like a stranger in my own skin."
"I know what that feels like," William answered softly, suddenly standing next to me.
I couldn't imagine what it was like to be human and wake up as a vampire one day. Even though it had most likely been his choice, it didn't make it any less frightening. He wasn't the same person anymore, and I wondered what he was like before he turned. Was he married? Did he have children? The thought made me both uncomfortable and jealous. I was jealous of a hypothetical wife I didn't even know he actually had.
I stared back at him as his eyes wandered down to my lips, and I felt them tingle under the weight of his gaze. He stood so close to me, and yet he seemed too far. I felt that urge to break the small distance between us, to touch him– to kiss him. His presence near me felt electrifying, and for the span of a second I wondered how it would feel to finally give in to the invisible chord that seemed to pull me to him. Would he let me? The stiffness of his body led me to believe he would. Or at least that was what I wanted to think.
"Charlotte," his voice echoed in the room, making me realize I was standing even closer to him. When did I move? "There's something I need to tell you–"
A loud bark resonated behind the closed door, making me jump, my hand reaching for my chest where my heart was racing. The door slammed open and Caelan appeared, looking furious.
"She bit me!" he shouted as he barged into the room.
I quickly took several steps back from William. For a moment he looked wounded, but he regained a neutral expression quickly.
"What did you do?" I asked Caelan as I walked towards Dee who was strolling in. She looked fine, and so did Caelan. The advantage of being a vampire and healing quickly.
"Nothing! I threw her a bone and she lunged at me," he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Not cool, White Fang. I thought we were friends," he told her, and she barked at him, making me laugh. Dee was not the type to make friends.
"She doesn't like strangers throwing stuff at her," I told him as I scratched Dee's head.
"How was I supposed to know that?" He shook his head in frustration. "What was happening here, anything fun?"
I froze, my eyes instinctively turning to William. He looked as serious as ever.
"You should go rest, we'll continue your training tomorrow," he simply answered, looking straight at me, before leaving the room without another word.
Caelan gave me a questioning look, and I shrugged, not sure myself why he left like that.
What he was about to tell me before Caelan interrupted us was all I could think about as I drifted off to sleep that night.