Page 8 of A Touch of Darkness (Chronicles of the Cursed #1)

The next morning, I’m feeling exactly zero percent better as I walk into a small hole-in-the-wall shop. The town of Blackthorne is fairly small. There’s Blackthorne University, of course, but then there’s the woods that you can walk through to get to a small downtown district composed of cobblestone streets and quaint shops. The town as a whole only has 1600 residents, according to the sign we drove past on the way here the other day. It feels as though this place has been untouched by time. From the timeworn streets to the gothic architecture of the buildings…it’s like stepping into Blackthorne means going back in time.

I don’t even know how I got out of bed after tossing and turning all night. After I finally got Isabel out of my room, the girls and I determined we needed to reconvene this morning as opposed to carrying on last night. We were all exhausted. Unfortunately for me, though, I didn’t sleep—at all. Nightmares of Lara being taken, of rogue vampires and witches casting spells over caldrons kept me on edge all night.

I take a deep breath and glance around the shop. The café is a literature lover’s dream. I noticed, before walking in, that the sign above the door read The Raven’s Quill in looping, antique script. Ivy twisted around the windows like nature itself is trying to claim the place, and I can’t blame it. It’s gorgeous.

The warm, rich air wraps around me like a blanket once I’m fully inside, carrying the rich scents of coffee, leather, and old books. It’s a wonderful contrast from the chilly, early morning air. There’s a quiet hum cascading around the place: the soft chatter of patrons, the hiss of the espresso machine, the faint creak of worn floorboards underfoot.

I follow Nicole and Rebecca farther inside, my eyes sweeping across the space as I momentarily forget about my life, in complete awe of this place. Bookshelves climb the walls to the ceiling, crammed with novels, tomes, and journals. The collection is eclectic—old and new, fiction and nonfiction, with a little bit of everything in between.

A ladder on wheels leans precariously against one of the shelves. It looks charming, like something out of a movie, but from the weathered look, I’m surprised it’s still in one piece. Overhead, warm string lights cast a golden glow, a few of them burnt out, adding a hint of imperfection to the unique ambiance. A sea of quotes are etched into the wooden beams. My eyes run over a series of bookish quotes. One catches my eye: “We are all fools in love.”

In a far corner, there’s a small stage with an upright piano and a handwritten sign: Play at Your Own Risk . I haven’t touched a piano in years, and I’m certainly not about to start now—not when I’m certain I’d kill the mood with whatever disjointed notes my fingers might manage.

A couple of baristas are working behind a counter made from stacks of books and sealed beneath glossy resin. Their spines peek out like artifacts in a museum, some of the books are probably fit for one, too. Every detail feels deliberate, as if designed to transport its inhabitants to another world. Under normal circumstances, I’d love it here. I’d gladly come to this place to escape the mundane, to study, to find a new read and get lost in various worlds of adventure, romance, and mysteries.

But today, my world is imploding.

Nicole leads the way to a quiet corner, her movements unhurried but with purpose. Three mismatched armchairs surround a low wooden table. She sinks into a high-backed red velvet chair, crossing one leg over the other and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with effortless confidence. Rebecca perches delicately on the edge of a small blue chair, her posture stiff.

I settle into the last chair, cradling the steaming mug Rebecca handed me moments ago. She must’ve ordered while I was busy wandering around, too lost in my thoughts to pay attention.

“I still can’t believe you guys agreed to ditch class for me today,” I murmur, my voice quieter than intended. “Thank you,” I add, because I don’t want to seem ungrateful that they agreed to skip classes today in order to spend time with me.

Nicole smirks, her plum-colored lips tilting upward as she winks. “Please. You looked like you were about to fling yourself into the void this morning, rightfully so. Consider this an emergency intervention.”

Rebecca shoots her a look but softens it with a small smile. “What she’s trying to say is that we care about you, Sylvie. And we think you deserve some answers.”

I swallow past my disbelief and nod. “Thanks. I mean it.” My fingers tighten around the warm mug. The heat seeps into my skin, but it doesn’t calm the storm in my chest. “It’s just... I don’t even know where to start. Everything feels so?—”

“Upside down?” Nicole offers with a shrug of one shoulder.

“Exactly.”

“Well, that’s because it is upside down,” she says, leaning forward with a spark of something unreadable in her eyes. “So here’s the deal: Blackthorne isn’t... normal. You’ve probably figured that out by now. Especially after last night’s strange events.”

I blink at her. “Figured it out? Nicole, my sister disappeared into thin air, and a random stranger showed up in my room claiming my bloodline has been protecting the world from vampires and witches for generations.” My voice trembles as I continue, “It doesn’t exactly take a genius to see something’s not right; I’m just not sure if it’s the people around me who’ve lost it—or if it’s me.”

Rebecca hides a smile behind her hand, and Nicole just shrugs, unapologetic. “Fair point. But there’s a difference between knowing something’s off and understanding why.”

“Okay, then,” I say. “Why?”

Nicole exchanges a glance with Rebecca, and for the first time, I see hesitation in her. Rebecca nods like she’s giving Nicole permission to continue, and Nicole leans back again, running a hand through her curly dark hair.

“Blackthorne is... special,” she says. “It’s one of the only places in the world where humans and supernaturals coexist, safely, under the same roof.”

The word drops between us like a stone.

Supernaturals.

“What does that even mean?” I ask, though I already feel the answer creeping into the edges of my mind. I feel like I came here expecting Nicole and Rebecca to tell me the woman was crazy, or maybe that I hit my head and it was all my concussion talking. But here Nicole is telling me there are supernaturals?

“It means,” Nicole says, “that most of the people you’ve been going to class with the past couple days? They’re not exactly…human.”

I stare at her, my blood rushing in my ears. “You can’t be serious,” I say with a grin. I think it’s the first time I’ve smiled since Lara went missing and my life imploded, but this has to be a joke.

Rebecca leans forward, her expression softer, more careful. “She is serious. Blackthorne is like... a neutral zone. A place where humans and supernaturals can live and study together without totally killing each other. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best anyone’s managed.”

“Neutral zone? Killing each other?” My voice rises, and Rebecca glances around as if she’s worried someone might overhear.

“Keep your voice down,” Nicole says, leaning forward, but she doesn’t sound annoyed. “Look, it’s simple. Blackthorne was founded ages ago by two people—one human, one supernatural—who believed the only way to end the war between our worlds was to create a place where we could learn to coexist. The university isn’t just a school; it’s an experiment. A truce.”

I laugh, though there’s nothing funny about any of this. “You’re telling me I’ve been going to class with... with vampires and werewolves and witches and mermaids?”

“Well, not mermaids,” Rebecca says quickly.

“That makes me feel so much better,” I say with an eyeroll.

Nicole chimes in, “I know it’s hard to believe, but?—”

“And you’re... what? What are you?” I ask, interrupting her.

Nicole’s lips curve into a smirk. “We’re witches. Both of us.”

I gape at them, my disbelief threatening to choke me. “You’re joking.”

Rebecca shakes her head. “We’re not. And before you ask, no, we don’t fly on broomsticks. That’s Hollywood nonsense. But magic? That’s real.”

I take a moment to process, but in truth, this is going to take me longer than a damn moment. If what they’re saying is true, and I have no idea why they’d have any reason to lie about it, everything I’ve always known is…wrong. Vampires and witches and the other supernaturals aren’t just in movies and books. They’re real. How is that even in the realm of possibility?

“This is insane,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Fucking insane.” My grip on the mug tightens to the point that I’m concerned it may shatter in my hands, but it does nothing to stop the whirlwind in my chest.

How is everyone not freaking out about this? Why haven’t I noticed anything weird?”

Rebecca shrugs, swirling her coffee cup. “Many supernaturals can blend in. Some witches only do subtle spells, illusions; the vampires on campus manage their feeding in humane ways with safe blood sources. And some students have no clue about all this, either. Blackthorne tries to keep it under wraps for the sake of avoiding… panic. It was different years ago, when the pact was made, but a lot of those originals are gone, and people are trying to prevent hysteria now. Without dismantling what their ancestors started.”

I slump backward, my heart racing. It’s like someone’s yanked the rug out from under me. There are so many things I want answers about.

“We may need to circle back to that. I also need to know why I’m important to these Society people.”

Nicole hesitates, exchanging a glance with Rebecca before answering. “We’re not a hundred percent sure why, and Isabel was certainly vague last night. But we do know the Society has taken interest in only a few new students. You happen to be on that list.”

I rub my forehead, trying to process all of this. “Can either of you explain what exactly the Solstice Society is?”

Rebecca presses her lips together. “They’re a cult. To put it lightly. They have one main focus—to erase vampires, witches, essentially all supernatural entities from the earth. When I say witches, I mean witches who practice for the good. They actually utilize witches who use dark magic for their gain. They have… an agenda. And if you’re on their list, it means they think you might be important to that agenda. Important somehow in the way of helping them achieve their goal.”

A chill skitters through me, and I pull my jacket tighter around my shoulders. “And you two? How do you fit into this?”

“Well, aside from being on their shit list because we’re witches, let’s just say we’re not fans of the Society,” Nicole murmurs, her expression grim. “They’re not fair to people who don’t fit their vision of how supernaturals and humans should… coexist. Some of us have tried to form a separate group, one that wants more transparency between humans and supernaturals. But the Society prefers secrecy—and death.”

I shake my head, trying to take it all in but it feels like information overload.

And frankly, it still feels incredibly surreal.

Made up.

I’m trying to rationalize something that can’t be rationalized.

“We really aren’t supposed to tell anyone about any of this. It’s a code we’ve agreed to abide to, but Rebecca and I talked,” Nicole says gesturing to our friend. “We can’t willingly or knowingly keep you in the dark when you have so much at stake. It wouldn’t be right. Or fair.” She sets down her mug and reaches over the small table, taking my hand in hers. “Plus, you’ve noticed some… suspicious things around campus, haven’t you? You’ve had feelings that things aren’t necessarily as they seem.” She slides a glance at me, and I think about the strange glimpses—the portraits, the weird suffocating feeling as I walk through the halls…She isn’t wrong.

My stomach twists. I did notice things, but I brushed them off. “I guess I was trying to excuse the strange feelings. I kept telling myself I was imagining stuff.”

Rebecca and Nicole nod in unison. “We had a feeling you were more than you seemed,” Rebecca says. “A witch always knows.”

Her words hit me, and I feel their honesty flowing through my veins.

I take a moment to look around the dimly lit café, the low murmur of other customers forming a comforting background hum. It’s surreal that we’re discussing vampires and witches as casually as if it’s our weekend plans. “So what happens now?” I ask quietly. “If I’m a target—or an interest—how do I stay safe? How do I even… talk to these supernaturals? Do I pretend nothing’s changed?”

Nicole’s eyes soften with sympathy. “At school, you pretend nothing has changed. It’s business as usual, aside from the fact that we’re looking for your missing sister. We’ll help you. There are a few key people on campus you can trust if things get intense.”

My pulse thuds in my ears, the heaviness of it all pressing down on me. “God, this is… a lot. One minute I’m stressing over normal classes, and now I’m supposed to worry about hidden supernatural agendas on top of my missing sister?”

Rebecca reaches over and covers my free hand. “Hey. Breathe. We’re here for you. You’re not alone. We let you in because we want to help you and Lara. It isn’t fair for you to try and acclimate to all of this insanity alone.”

I swallow, nodding, even though my mind’s racing with a hundred more questions. “Okay. I want answers… but I’m also freaking out.” A shaky laugh escapes me. “I just—this is crazy, right? Vampires? Witches? All under one roof, acting like normal students?”

Nicole gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s definitely crazy. But it’s our reality. And now it’s yours, too.”

Rebecca adds, “And we need to make sure we stay on top of the Society issue. If this Isabel girl pops up again, we need to be prepared to ask more in-depth questions to see what they want from you.”

The mention of the Society sends a shiver crawling down my spine.

“Isabel said I’m connected to them somehow, but I don’t understand how. My family is normal. My parents, Lara—all normal. Humans. There isn’t, in any realm of possibility, a chance that we’re connected to anything that could help them.”

Nicole leans forward, her gaze intense, unyielding. “The Solstice Society doesn’t see the world the way you do. They think in terms of bloodlines, prophecies— power . If they want you, it means they think you’re important. And they don’t let go of people they think are important.” Her expression is grim. “Last night, introducing Isabel. That was just step one for them.”

Rebecca nods. “The Society, and the Guild—the governing body for witches—have been at odds for centuries. To the Solstice Society, we’re just another kind of monster. Vampires, witches, shifters—we’re all the same in their eyes. They may want vampires gone first, but we’ll be next, and we’ve always known it.”

My heart pounds harder. “Do they think I’m one of them? I don’t know why else they’d think I could help…”

“It sounds like they think you could be,” Nicole says. “But if you ask me, the Solstice Society doesn’t care about what you want. They care about what they can use you for.”

Rebecca’s gaze softens. “I know this is a lot to take in. But Sylvie—we’re here, and we’re going to figure this out. Together.”

I nod slowly, though the burden of it all feels unbearable. Everything I thought I knew about my life, my world—it’s all gone. All that’s left is this strange new reality, and I have no idea where it’s going to take me.

I do know one thing, though.

I have a deep, instinctive feeling screaming at me to believe them.

To not ignore this.

To trust myself.

I believe the women sitting in front of me. And a very big part of me wishes I could just dig my head in the sand and act like they’re nothing more than crazy lunatics—but I don’t think that would do anyone justice. Least of all, my sister.

I inhale a deep, cleansing breath. “This is just a lot to take in. I need to go back to Blackthorne and have some time,” I tell them, looking from Nicole to Rebecca. “I need to learn more about Solstice before I make a decision about meeting with them. But if they really do know where Lara is, I want to get answers sooner than later.”

Nicole nods, though her expression remains grim.

“Just know they are trying to do away with everyone who is different, Sylvie.”

I sigh, knowing that’s what they are telling me. But with so much information being thrown at me, I don’t know what’s real and what’s not—despite believing the girls, it’s still hard to wrap my mind around everything. Vampires. Witches. Bloodlines…

“I think you should talk to someone else, too,” Rebecca says, pausing to sip from her mug. “He’s going to be able to give you more information than either of us can.”

I sit forward in my chair, eagerly willing to soak up any knowledge I can.

“Great,” I say. “After I have some time to decompress, can you introduce me? Who is it?”

Nicole and Rebecca look to each other and then back to me, and then Nicole says, “It’s Professor Draedon. Lucian Draedon.”