The Dying Light (Bloodwitch #1)

Although he had not intended to do so, Charlie ended up sleeping through the rest of that day and long into the night. It was the nightmares that eventually woke him. When he crept from his room at last, he was resolved in his choice. The corridors of the Lilith coven hideout were silent and deserted in the moonlight. Shutting the door cautiously behind him, he paused, listening hard before making his move.

From much further away, he could hear the echo of laughter and chattering voices. The scrape of wooden benches on the flagstone floor rang along the walls, mingling with the clatter of knives and forks. He guessed that some of the girls were still up, perhaps eating a late meal. Otherwise, everyone else seemed to have already gone back to their dormitories. Charlie brushed a hand against his stomach, his wrist colliding with jutting hip bones. He could not remember the last time he had felt hungry.

Descending the staircase to the ground floor, he made his way towards the cells. He was working on the assumption that, in a building such as this, they were likely to be underground. After a little exploration, he discovered a flight of wooden steps located beneath a trap door, hidden in a corner.

Standing in the darkness, Charlie peered down into the gloom. There was no sign of movement on the stairs. He could already feel how the air turned colder below ground. The rising damp was cloying in his nostrils. No one seemed to be coming.

Glancing around, Charlie steeled himself, a strange fluttering sensation in his chest.

Vasco was down there.

He went as slowly as he dared, tentatively seeking out each new stair with the sole of his foot before putting his weight on it. The floorboards were rotten, some of them worn through completely in places. It would only take one misplaced step to give himself away. He had only made it halfway down the staircase, however, when the sound of a woman’s voice made him pause.

Freezing where he stood, Charlie strained his ears to catch her words. But it was futile; he was too far away to have any chance of hearing anything she said clearly. Once satisfied that she had not heard him approach, he continued his careful descent.

When he reached the bottom of the staircase, he tiptoed hastily over to the door of a barred cell. Making sure that he was hidden from view, he pressed his back against the door and, his heart thumping wildly, began to listen.

‘I do apologise for having kept you waiting so long, Lieutenant Kovalev. I did so enjoy our last conversation. I hope you are feeling a little less taciturn this evening.’

It was Alya’s mother, Eva Brightheart, the High Witch of Matya. For a moment, Charlie was so taken aback that he almost thought he must be mistaken. But there could be no doubt that it was her. His heart began to beat even faster as he heard Vasco’s voice answer.

‘Not coming in to join me tonight, witch?’

‘I’m afraid not. You will have to appreciate my visit from a distance, this time.’

‘I’m sure I’ll cope. It’s just you this time, then, is it?’

A hundred questions flashed through Charlie’s mind at once. The High Witch of the Lilith coven had gone to the makeshift holding cells in the basement to see Vasco, alone, late at night, when everyone else was busy eating dinner in the kitchen or sleeping in the dormitories. His shoulders tense against the wall, Charlie forced himself to listen harder.

‘I see I have disappointed you. Tell me, were you perhaps expecting someone else?’

From his hiding place beside the barred door, Charlie frowned. There was no mistaking the cruel amusement in the High Witch’s voice. A twinge of unease crept along his spine. It was a horribly familiar sound. He knew at once who it reminded him of, and that he was right to have come.

‘You’re right, it’s true. I can’t help noticing Alexandra isn’t with you again tonight,’ he heard Vasco reply, his words oozing cool defiance. ‘Not quite confident that she’ll be on board with how you treat your prisoners yet, are you? It’s a reasonable concern, if you ask me.’

‘You should consider the possibility that you are not quite as insightful as you think you are.’ The High Witch’s voice had hardened noticeably. ‘To my eyes, my daughter has no interest whatsoever in seeing you.’

‘Then your eyes need checking,’ Vasco retorted at once. ‘Your ears too, for that matter. If Alexandra has said anything at all to you, she’ll have asked to see me.’

There was the sound of a scuffle, followed by a muffled yell. The noise of jangling chains echoed out through the bars to where Charlie stood listening. It stirred a memory within him, panic jolting through his body. His fingers had gripped the doorhandle before he even became aware that he had moved. But his better judgement halted him in his tracks, and he stopped himself before he could catch a look into the cell.

‘I mean that with the greatest of respect, of course,’ Vasco added, and Charlie heard the sound of something being spat onto the ground. ‘But you’d never let her see me, would you? You don’t even trust your own daughter not to betray you.’

’It’s you I don’t trust, Vasco Kovalev,’ the High Witch hissed. ‘You are the Witchkiller, the protégé of a monster – a tyrant. When I look into your eyes, all I see inside of you is him.’

‘You don’t know anything about me.’ Vasco’s voice was dangerously soft now. ‘Or about Alexandra. She hasn’t needed you for years, and now you show up pretending to be the concerned mother? I can see straight through your act. You’re a bad liar, witch.’

‘You common street dog, you have no right to –’

’Where were you when she was lonely, or scared?’ Vasco demanded. ‘She thought you were dead, and all this time you were here, plotting your glorious uprising.’ Charlie flinched at the venom in his words. ‘You’re too late! While you were hiding here playing the queen in exile, you missed watching your own daughter grow up. Well, was it worth it?’

‘I can see my husband has been feeding you the same lies as he has to my daughter,’ the High Witch said slowly. Charlie noted the quiver in her voice as she struggled to regain her usual controlled manner. ‘Tell me this – am I not entitled to care about her?’

‘You don’t care about her, you want to control her,’ Vasco shot back. ‘She’s just another pawn in your game.’

‘My daughter is an intelligent young woman and can make her own decisions.’

‘And if she decided she wanted to see me? You’d let her see me like this, in this place, knowing I’d tell her everything about what you’ve said and done to me?’

‘If she makes such a request, I will consider it at that time.’

‘I know her. She’ll have asked to see me by now – I know it.’

‘Do you know, we spent almost the whole day together today, and she didn’t mention you once.’ The vengeful pleasure in the High Witch’s voice was so pronounced that Charlie could picture the smile on her face in his mind’s eye. ‘Not even once.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Vasco said quietly.

The airiness of the High Witch’s next words seemed to wave his words away. ‘Believe what you like, but I have no great wish to spare you painful truths when it comes to my daughter, Witchkiller.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean that you need to accept the truth when it comes to Alexandra.’

‘What truth, exactly?’

The High Witch paused before replying. ‘That I will never permit you to love my daughter.’ Her tone had dropped lower, but her words were spoken with such furious animosity that they carried all the way to where Charlie stood listening. ‘For as long as I live, I will prevent the two of you from being together. I will not allow you to covet her. You cannot have her. She is mi-’ The High Witch cleared her throat. ‘She is my daughter.’

At the sound of movement on the other side of the door, Charlie ducked into the shadows.

‘You can’t keep us apart forever, you old witch!’ he heard Vasco shout after her.

Charlie flung himself behind a wooden post just as the figure of Eva Brightheart emerged from inside the cells. He peered carefully around the post and caught a glimpse of her unmistakable golden hair shining in the low torchlight. She did not lock the door behind her.

As he withdrew his head, Charlie heard her let out a deep sigh. He watched from the corner of his eye as she strode up the stairs, her cloak fanning out behind her. He waited, perfectly still, until he heard the sound of the trapdoor being closed.

Charlie approached the cell door without hesitation, telling himself that there was nothing for him to be afraid of. He would not be locked in. Vasco was in there, and Charlie had to get him out. Taking a deep breath, he forced his hands to stop shaking, and entered the holding cell.

‘Were you not done?’ Vasco lifted his head as soon as Charlie appeared, a sullen expression on his face. At the sight of him, the soldier’s eyes widened. ‘Saints, Charlie, I thought you were … What are you doing here?’

‘I needed to speak to you,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ve got an idea. I –’

He broke off. Set against the far wall of the cell was a tall, locked cage. Vasco was chained up inside it. In the faint glow from the torchlight through the iron bars at the door to the cell, Charlie could just make out Vasco’s face. It was covered in dried blood, as was most of his black sleeveless shirt.

His muscular arms were trembling in the cold and were raised high above his head. His wrists had been manacled with heavy chains that were fixed to the wall from an iron ring far above him. Every now and then, he jerked his head to the side to clear his vision, sending drops of water falling from his dark hair. His breathing was ragged, and a mist rose before his eyes each time he exhaled.

‘It’s bad, huh,’ Vasco murmured, watching Charlie’s face. ‘It feels like it’s bad.’

‘You look terrible,’ Charlie agreed. ‘I don’t think your nose is broken, though.’

‘You’ve been a bad influence on me,’ Vasco said softly, a humourless smile on his face. ‘The last time anything like this happened to me, I was just a little kid.’

‘You look ill,’ Charlie said, his voice sharp, as he noticed the sheen of cold sweat across Vasco’s forehead. ‘Aren’t you freezing? How long have they been keeping you like this?’

‘They brought me down here as soon as I was taken away. They have an interrogator – the Whisperer – he likes to keep to a regular work schedule.’ Vasco scowled, and looked away. ‘And of course, the queen herself never misses an opportunity to drop by for a personal visit.’

‘Are you saying they’re torturing you?’ Charlie heard the words rattle out of his mouth like gunfire. ‘Tell me straight – don’t play games with me. What do they want from you?’

Vasco shrugged. ‘Information. They’re amateurs, though.’ His smile was devoid of all warmth, and his eyes were blazing. ‘I could teach them a thing or two, given the opportunity.’

Charlie cleared his throat. ‘Since you brought it up,’ he began, making sure to bite back the anger he felt beginning to flare up inside of himself, ‘I want to talk to you about something. I’ve been meaning to for a while now, but this is the first time you haven’t been in the position to beat me up the second I say something you don’t want to hear.’

Vasco looked straight at him, his eyes narrowed with interest, and said nothing.

‘Why did you choose to become a soldier?’ Charlie asked. ‘You’re a Witch Hunter – a lieutenant in Nikolai Ignatiev’s forces. You knew him. You can’t have been blind to his true nature. How could you not know what he was planning? How could you support a man who’s been responsible for so much suffering? I can’t …’ He let out a sigh. ‘I don’t understand you.’

Vasco was regarding him steadily. He seemed to be weighing up his answer. ‘Maybe I’ll tell you, one day,’ he said eventually. ‘You’re not the only one who likes to keep secrets, you know. Maybe then you’ll understand the choice I made.’

He spoke the words gently, and there was no sign of malice on his face. For a moment, Charlie suspected that he did not have an answer to give at all. But there was an intensity in Vasco’s gaze that made him reject that thought.

’I would like to do something to help you and Seren now, though,’ Vasco added quietly.

‘What?’ Charlie could not hide the surprise in his voice. ‘Why?’

‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not looking for redemption, or forgiveness, or anything like that,’ Vasco said, his tone dry, his expression unreadable. ‘I just think it’s the right thing to do. I saw the photographs of those kids … and Seren and her sister are still being held hostage. There are likely to be more witches imprisoned along with them, aren’t there? More … more children.’

‘I didn’t realise you cared …’

Vasco cast him a scornful look. ‘Don’t even try to deny that you have a plan to rescue them – it’s obvious. You need my help. You don’t have a chance of saving them without me.’

‘Then I have your word that you’ll help me?’

‘I’d shake your hand on it, but I’m a little tied up here at the moment.’

‘Not for much longer.’

Vasco regarded him witheringly. ‘Let me guess – you’re stronger than you look?’

‘No, just smarter.’

Grinning at the look of astonishment on Vasco’s face, Charlie drew the bobby pin from his hair. One by one, he picked the lock at the door to his cage, then the manacles at his wrists.

‘You keep managing to impress me,’ Vasco murmured, massaging his wrists as they left the holding cell and headed towards the wooden staircase. ‘Were you always this talented?’

‘I’ve had a lot of experience.’ Charlie was surprised to find that he was smiling a little, in spite of himself. ‘I hope I can keep surprising you.’

As soon as they reached the top of the stairs, Vasco glanced quickly from side to side, before striding purposefully in the direction of the dormitories.

‘Where are you going?’ Charlie demanded, as forcefully as he could while making sure to keep his voice at a whisper.

Vasco stared at him as if the answer were obvious. ‘I’m going to find Alexandra.’

Charlie shook his head firmly. ‘No, she’s not coming with us.’

‘I can’t just leave without her. I’m supposed to protect her.’

‘Look, I’m not getting in the middle of whatever’s going on between you two, but –’

’There’s nothing going on between the two of us!’ Vasco snapped. ’She’s my friend.’

‘But I can tell you this much,’ Charlie continued, forcing himself to keep his voice calm and low. ‘Alya is happy to be back with her mother. You may not like it,’ he added quickly, as Vasco opened his mouth, looking furious, ‘but she’s made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t want to go back to Elysia, or to her father. She as good as told me so earlier today.’

‘That’s not … she doesn’t …’ Vasco braced a fist against his right temple. ‘I can’t …’

‘You’re just angry because she wants to spend time with her mother, and her mother doesn’t trust you because you’re a Witch Hunter.’

Vasco rounded on him, looking desperate. ‘Do you really think I’m so petty?’

Charlie held Vasco’s troubled gaze, taking in the mingled sadness and confusion in his dark eyes. ‘Maybe you should give her some time and space?’ he suggested. ‘At least for now.’

Vasco hesitated for a moment, before inclining his head a fraction. ‘Maybe you’re right. Besides, it’s better if she stays as far away from Dragomir and her father as possible. They don’t have limits. They don’t know when to stop …’ He glanced at Charlie, frowning. ‘Is everything all right? You look like you’re about to be sick.’

‘We should get moving.’ Charlie pushed ahead of him, his jaw clenched.

‘Wait,’ Vasco said, grabbing his hand to stop him going any further. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

’You think I’m blind? I know something happened back there. I know you’re hiding something.’ Vasco tightened his grip on Charlie’s hand. ‘What did they do to you, Charlie?’

‘He –’ Charlie balled his hands into fists, looking away. ’He hurt me – you understand?’

‘What?’ Vasco breathed, dropping Charlie’s hand. He had gone very still. ’What?’

‘It’s happened to me before,’ Charlie said, his voice flat as he stared at his empty palm. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything about it, but you wanted to know. I’m not going to lie to you …’

‘You’ve been dealing with this alone, all this time?’ Vasco’s voice sounded hollow.

Charlie scratched his throat and gave Vasco a playful shove to the shoulder. ‘Come on, don’t look so sad,’ he said, forcing himself to sound exactly as he would if he were fine. When this only caused Vasco’s expression to grow more forlorn, Charlie heaved a deep sigh and motioned for him to lead the way. ‘I survived, didn’t I? That’s enough. If we’re going, let’s go.’

They made their way towards the perimeter of the hideout. Both of them were used to moving quietly and avoiding unwanted attention, so a comfortable silence had quickly settled between them. It was only when they had their exit in sight that Vasco spoke.

‘There’s something I still don’t understand,’ he began.

‘Mm?’ Charlie was focused on making sure they were not being followed. ‘What is it?’

‘Why did you set me free?’

‘I needed your help,’ Charlie said at once. ‘I can’t save Seren and Saga on my own.’

‘But was I really the one best placed to help you?’ Vasco asked. ‘Why come to me?’

‘Who else would I have asked? You know Elysia best out of all of us.’

‘That may be true, but you could have got back into the Facility yourself if you wanted to. Seren would be a lot more help taking down the soldiers and helping you rescue the others than I could be.’

Charlie cleared his throat. ‘I don’t want to rely on Seren’s help. Not with this, at least.’

‘Why not?’

‘Something’s wrong with her,’ Charlie explained. ‘She’s getting weaker every time she uses her powers. You’ve seen it happen.’

‘That makes no sense,’ Vasco said immediately. ‘Witches gain strength from using their corruptions, they don’t get weaker. I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before.’

‘Well, it’s happening to Seren,’ Charlie countered. ‘Maybe it has something to do with the experiments they performed on her at the Volya Facility – I don’t know. But it’s not just that she gets weaker, she also gets …’

‘What?’ Vasco pressed, as Charlie broke off.

‘You’ve seen her …’ Charlie struggled to find the right words. ‘Disorientated. Confused. Afraid.’ He drew his arms around himself. ‘She doesn’t remember who I am, or what happened to her before she used her powers, or how she came to be where she is now.’

‘I see.’ Vasco frowned. ‘And you’re worried it’s going to get worse.’

’It is getting worse,’ Charlie insisted. ‘Every time she uses her powers, it gets worse.’

Vasco nodded. ‘That’s why you don’t want to rely on her to help you. You’re afraid of what might happen if she uses her powers again, in such a place.’

‘Yes.’

‘I understand.’

They walked on together in silence for a while before Vasco spoke again.

‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something else, as well.’

Charlie’s heart sank. ‘Yeah?’

Vasco took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Charlie thought Vasco seemed to be looking everywhere but at him.

He frowned. ‘What is it?’

‘I want to tell you something,’ Vasco began, his words stiff and uncertain, as though he was picking his way tentatively through what he wanted to say. ‘Charlie, I know I haven’t –’

He paused, a dark scowl hardening his face, his eyes narrowed into the night. With a snarled order to get down, Vasco shoved Charlie against the wall, his body pressed hard against Charlie’s as the rattle of gunfire split the silence. Charlie found himself instinctively struggling against the feeling of having another body so close to his, but Vasco forced his forearm against Charlie’s chest to keep him still.

‘Don’t move!’

‘What are you –?’

Vasco nodded meaningfully to the broken window beside them, keeping the same vicelike grip on Charlie’s upper body. Charlie followed his gaze, squinting through the gloom.

‘See them?’ Vasco asked, and Charlie nodded, realising what he was seeing. ‘Military police. Soldiers. Witch Hunters. They’ve got this place surrounded. Someone sold us out.’

‘Faulkner.’ Charlie clenched his jaw as he caught sight of a blonde man at the head of his gang. ‘He must have known about this place all along. The witches – they’re all in danger.’

‘You’re right.’ Vasco turned to Charlie, scowling. ‘How long have you known him?’

Charlie made sure not to meet Vasco’s eyes. ‘Long enough.’

‘Since you were a child?’

‘Yes.’

At this, Vasco’s eyes turned hard, his burning gaze fixed on Faulkner as though watching something repellent play out in his mind. ’Then he’s the one who …’

Below them, Faulkner was shouting orders to his men. ‘Get me my property back!’

Charlie quailed as a menacingly serene expression settled on Vasco’s face. ‘What do we do now?’ he asked. ‘Should we try to take them right here, or get everyone else out?’

Vasco shook his head, blinking as if forcing himself to snap out of a reverie. ’We’re both unarmed. We can’t take them on alone, and it’s too late to attempt a large-scale evacuation. We should get out of here while we still have the chance, and hope Her Majesty has a plan.’

Charlie considered these words, aware of Vasco’s hard stare piercing him as he waited for Charlie’s response. The faces of his family on their knees, surrounded by soldiers, rose in front of his eyes. He saw their bodies slumped forwards in death.

He stared at his hands, his mind playing over everything that had happened to him after he was imprisoned in the Shadow Cells. He could almost believe that it had only been a nightmare, were it not for the scars he now carried, inside and out.

‘What do you think?’ Vasco asked.

His thoughts skipping as though catching on something sharp, Charlie attempted to make some sense out of what had happened to him. It was, he realised, all because of Faulkner, and the advances of the Pen gang into the safe little world he had tried to create, that his family were gone.

If they had only left him alone, his family would still be alive. If Faulkner had never made Charlie his prisoner, kept him beaten down and humiliated all those years, Charlie would never have had a reason to start gunning for him in the first place.

‘Do you agree with me, Charlie?’

It all came back to Faulkner. It was all his fault.

Charlie gritted his teeth, his decision made. ‘I’ve got another idea.’