Page 42 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)

EVEN VAMPIRES HAVE A WEAKNESS

B are tree branches let in the dull rays of the sun as they were trudging through the tall dense forest. Violette exhaled warm breath in the fresh morning air. The ground beneath became wetter from the melting snow, the drops of water sparkled on the surface of the tip of her boots.

She kept returning her gaze to Dante. The higher the sun was – the more dispirited he looked.

His head bowed downward, however he remained speechless.

Violette seemed to think he wasn't in a really good state: since the day she'd met him she saw many versions of him, he could be serious and untalkative, sometimes he was shamelessly bothersome, sometimes carefree but never lacking energy like now.

He looked like a kid who was tired of walking after a long day spent outside.

“Dante,” she called him.

“Yes?” His attention seemed dull, but he answered her almost immediately, without raising his head or eyes.

“Are you okay?” Violette bent her head to the side.

“Concerned about me, Little Witch?” He smiled under his breath, though his voice came out rather raspy.

A shadow of worry crossed her features.

“So sweet of you,” Dante said softly, almost like his words weren't intended to rag on her.

“I need you alive not less than you need me,” she pointed out .

He lazily glanced at her from the corners of his eyes.

They walked some miles, crossing the clearing when she noticed Dante was practically sleeping on the go. She nudged her elbow at him, although it didn't have any effect – his eyes remained closed.

“Dante!” she exclaimed.

“Why are you yelling?” he drawled and slowly opened his eyes.

“Because you are sleeping.”

“I'm not. I just didn't want to answer.” His eyelids were again practically closed.

Her brows dipped. “You look bad.”

“Thank you, I was dreaming to hear that,” he mumbled.

“It's not funny. You are literally walking with closed eyes.” Her legs went still.

“I am not sleeping, the sun is just too bright to look at.”

She hardly believed he was telling her the truth – his voice reflected tiredness and his gaze blunted.

Finally they found themselves near the cemetery, it meant they were not far away from the mansion. She spun on her heels.

“Look, we–Dante!” she choked a gasp and fell silent, finding the vampire falling to the ground near the closest tree.

“Don't tell me you are dying,” she murmured angrily, trying to bring him to consciousness as she caught him before he reached the ground with his face. His weight immediately pulled her down.

“I knew you would find a way to get close to me,” he sang sleepily.

Violette raised her eyes to the sky, as though searching for patience. She made a few shaking steps before grumbling, “Ugh, you're heavy.”

“You are so generous with compliments today, Little Witch,” his voice sounded besotted, drunk, almost dreaming. Just until a painful groan tumbled out his mouth.

Violette didn't know where to go, the only idea that came to her mind was to get to the crypt since they were close and then…

She didn't have a plan after actually, but Dante was struggling to stay upright and his mind seemed to convert into a fog.

It turned out it wasn't just a ‘little pain’ as he stated.

They entered the crypt once again. Perhaps they should stop coming here so often. At this point, Violette visited cemeteries on these lands much more often than her mother's grave; it had been a long time since she was there.

She helped Dante to sit on the floor near the painted column.

He quietly sighed in pain, leaning against the wall.

It wasn't that noticeable outside how tired and sickly he looked until now: his skin lost its color, and eyes grew dim, his eyelids half closed, looking like he just woke up after a not really sober night and it was not as fun as it was supposed to be.

Violette’s eyes betrayed concern, prompting him finally to speak.

“I'm not dying, Little Witch. Stop looking at me like this,” he murmured, taking off his coat and placing it under his back.

“Then stop acting this way.” Violette sat further from him. The ground beneath was hard and frigid.

Her gaze drew back to Dante, as he shut his eyes and threw his head back. She started pondering: what would happen if she hadn't led him here? If they continued the walk under the sun? And she didn't hesitate to ask him about it.

“I would not die, if you are thinking about it.” He opened his eyes and cocked his head in her direction. “The high vampires can't die because of the sun but their condition can turn very bad. It can take weeks or even months to recover.”

Violette’s brows raised as her shoulder strained.

“High vampires? Do you have…classifications?” she asked carefully, weighing her words.

“There's only two types of vampires – regular and high.”

“What is the difference?” Her curiosity was aroused.

“High vampires don't die that easily.” A smirk wrapped his lips.

She snorted. “That's all? I don't believe it's the only difference.” She had thousands of reasons to presume Dante was telling only half the truth, or doubt he was telling the truth at all.

He threw his head back with a soft sigh, not expecting any other answer from her.

“They are much stronger and enduring than other vampires,” he simply added.

“I presume you are a high vampire because you're too selfish for anything else.”

It earned her a relaxing smile from him.

She swayed on the spot, then brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You said you can be killed only by the Vampire Slayer,” Caidas words unintentionally flew over her mind. “What about other vampires? Can they be killed by something else?”

“You want me to tell you all vampire secrets so you could use it against them?” His voice brimmed with decisiveness.

Violette tilted her head to the side. “You hate them anyway, as well as they don't like you. So, what does it cost you to tell me their weaknesses?”

“You asked me so many questions, I see the only fair option is you telling me something about you,” he said all of sudden.

These words truly impressed her, her mouth nearly flew open. She couldn't believe Mr. Selfish would want to know something about her.

“I thought I am very easy to read to you,” she teased.

“Yes, you are not a mystery,” he confirmed serenely, “but I want to hear your point of view. It seems your father is a very important person to you.”

“He is.” Her gaze trailed to the marble ground and a soft smile embraced her lips, lightening her eyes as the memory of her father's face slowly emerged in her head.

“I believe we’re actually two halves of the same soul.

He's always by my side, giving me the best advice. He's wise, funny, and the reason I believe you can achieve anything if you don't give up. He’s the one who told me stories about this place. He’s a writer.” She raised her head with a gentle smile.

“He read me all these fairytales when I was a child, taking inspiration from these stories and breathing a new life in them.” Violette's voice acquired new softly flowing tones. “I remember when I was little I always asked him to read the new chapters he’d written because I was too curious about what happened with his hero since the last night, did the knight defeat an evil sorcerer or not.” Her eyes sparkled with jollity as she dropped them back to the ground, reminiscing about her childhood.

“And what amazes me now – he always listened to my ideas. He used them in his stories, polished and improved but…he listened to me.” Her hands wrapped around her knees as her shoulders sagged.

“He always valued my opinion, even when I was just a little kid. It means so much to me, especially now when I grew up,” suddenly she felt silent, realizing she was carried away with the memories. “Sorry, I went too much with it, I–”

“No, it's fine. He seems like a really great father,” Dante said and for the first time she saw a truly gentle smile on his face, its edges lost their sharpness for a moment.

However, he looked very tired, half delirious as she could suppose.

He didn't even try to joke or say something playful to annoy her. He was truly listening.

“Did he publish his books?”

“Oh yes. Some of his novels are quite popular on the Magic Lands.

I remember when he released his most anticipated story.

I was nine at the time. He took us to his favorite bookstore in the city.

The window display was fully filled with his new book.

He was so happy that day, I don't even remember what we did after, only his joyful face.”

Dante's features softened. “What about your mother?”

A smile slowly faded from Violette's face and she drifted her gaze to the ground again.

He immediately realized his blunt mistake. “I didn't think you wouldn't like to speak about her.”

“No–no,” Violette blew. “I love my mother and I love thinking about her. She was…” it took her time to think about the word that would describe her the best, “a magnificent witch,” she breathed.

“I was always impressed by her sharp mind and perseverance. She was always so calm and she knew how to fix anything. She was very determined, and had a temper for sure.”

“Oh, and I was wondering who you got this from,” he softly chuckled.

It caused her eyes to squint, gracing him a faint smile.