Free Dark Craving: A Watchers Novella by Veronica Wolff Page B

to get rid of me. I’ve been a fool. I begin to shutter my emotions.
    But then her hand darts to mine and squeezes. “I’ll find you, Ronan. Later.” Intensity lights her eyes in a secret message.
    She’s changed me. And I’ll change everything for her. But first, she’ll need time. She’s the one who cheated on a vampire—she’s probably all kinds of anxious.
    I carry a warmth hidden in my heart, reserved for her alone. I free it now, Carden be damned. I free it into the light of day, letting it fill my eyes as I return her gaze full on. I’m here, it says silently . I wait. Forever if need be. The sentiment I give voice to, though, is significantly more banal. “What, precisely, do you characterize as the good stuff? Would that be tinned oats or expired yogurt?”
    She understands. Knows I won’t pressure her. I imagine I’m the only one able to see her relief; it relaxes the set of her shoulders, eases something that had become pinched around her eyes. “Blood pudding,” she answers with a shudder.
    “A delicacy,” Carden says, yet again inserting himself. He’ll always be there, inserting himself. He’s undead.
    I can’t have her yet, but I can protect her. I’ll do this thing. In the end, I forgo the dining hall. Today, I decide. Not tonight but today I assassinate Dagursson. Perhaps Carden is right—perhaps it will kill me. I have no choice. All I know is I must keep Annelise safe.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    I burst into the Arts Pavilion and head straight for Dagursson’s office. At first I wanted to do this for Annelise, but now? Now I’m doing it for us .
    I’ll appease Freya by killing the vampire, and then, if Ann wishes it, she and I can run away. We could go wherever she desires. I’ll find us a new place. I could find my family—Dagursson knows where they are. We could stay with them. It’d be on a faraway island where the sun shines. I only need to get the information from the vampire before I kill him.
    I reach his door and pull back my shoulders. I wondered how to kill him, which ruse I could use to get inside, but in the end, my only plan is that there is no plan—there’s no cover story clever enough to prevent the old Viking from suspecting me. And so I’ve got my urumi around my waist, stakes up my sleeves, and an old metal lighter in my pocket. My only hope is to take him by surprise.
    I flex one hand as the other finds the lighter, my thumb poising on its small steel spinner. I’ll threaten his scrolls. He’ll tell me of my family. I’ll find them, and they’ll give us shelter.
    Briefly, I seek inside myself, reaching for my power. I don’t summon it, not yet, in case the vampire is able to sense it, too. Maybe it won’t be enough. Maybe it’ll kill me.
    Annelise. Her name is mantra in my head. For us.
    I shove the door, and it opens with a slam . I’m powerful, driven. I’m a knight of old, storming the castle.
    “Tracer,” the vampire shouts, scolding. “Does Alcántara not teach manners to his errand boys?” He thinks I’ve been sent by another vampire. Of course he would. He’s too arrogant to believe a mere mortal would think to take him on. It’s a perfect ruse—it’ll buy me time.
    “Insolence, all around,” he mutters. “The moment we let go of the ancient ways, we open the door to corruption and dishonor.”
    I scan the room, assessing his position without even thinking. He’s seated at an old rolltop writing desk—legs tucked under, shoulders hunched over. The old Viking is impossibly fast but would need to move around furniture to get to me. Maybe it’ll be enough to slow him. Maybe it won’t.
    “Well?” He puts down his pen and stares. “Tell me what the Spaniard wants so I can get back to my translations.”
    I walk straight to the far corner of the room. He tracks my gaze, sees what I see. The thing he values above all other things. What he’d do anything to protect. His scrolls, several of them, stacked on a nearby table. Threatening