Free A Reason to Live: A Shadowdance Variation by Mark Wooden Page A

bucket, draining it. Her grip was tight enough to whiten her
knuckles.
    Adriana allowed Illyana a moment to collect herself.
In that moment, Illyana threw the damp towel onto the counter and
placed both her hands on the counter to steady herself. Her face
hung downward, her shoulder-length hair, so blonde it was nearly
white, cascading over her shoulder and blocking her view of
Adriana.
    It was for the better; should Illyana’s tears come as
they inevitably did during this oft-had conversation, she didn’t
want Adriana to see them.
    “When you turned me,” Adriana began, “it was for the
purpose of finding out what had happened to my family.”
    Illyana remained silent. She didn’t need the
reminder. She had been there. And yet Adriana always insisted on
making Illyana seem at fault in her choice of death over life.
    “I learned of my sister’s corruption at the hands of
the Daughters of Lilith,” Adriana continued, “what they made me do
to my ancestors. Would you not have me avenge them?”
    “I would have you live your days in happiness,
thankful that you live,” Illyana responded.
    “And what kind of life would I have, knowing those
who are guilty go without justice?”
    Illyana turned wildly to face Adriana, her hair
thrown to the side. “You don’t want justice!” she said. “Justice
would be allowing the elders of the Initiated to decide the
Daughters’ fate! You want them destroyed! You want revenge!”
    Illyana’s sudden anger silenced Adriana. Illyana felt
horrible that she’d allowed herself to get this worked up. Again.
The same fight they’d had for over half a decade. Yet Adriana would
not see her side of the argument.
    The silence between them crossed a century, all the
way back to that fateful night in St. Petersburg when Illyana made
Adriana the offer of immortality.
    The offer to become a vampire.
    Adriana stood. Illyana noted the girl had already
used the magic of the blood she’d been given to heal her wounds.
“Where are my blades?” she asked.
    Illyana ignored the question. She fought the urge to
cry as she rubbed her eye sockets with the heels of her hands.
Looking at her bloody hands after, she realized she’d failed.
    When she looked up, she saw Adriana was gone. Turning
back to the entrance, Illyana found Adriana standing there. The
girl was always silent and fast. It made her a lethal assassin for
the Daughters.
    It was an unnerving trait among supposed friends.
    “My blades, Illyana,” Adriana said. There was no
insistence in her tone. Instead, she sounded as if she too were
tired of this conversation.
    Illyana looked away from the girl. “And if I give
them to you, you’re just going back after Yukio.”
    Adriana made no reply.
    “She’ll kill you, Adriana,” Illyana said, the words
choking in her throat.
    Again, no response.
    Illyana turned to look at Adriana. This time, she
made no effort to hide her tears. “I couldn’t bear to think of a
world without you.”
    Adriana met Illyana’s gaze; the blood of Illyana’s
tears smeared the vibrant blue of her eyes. The younger girl turned
her gaze downward. Illyana couldn’t tell if the move was to cover
Adriana’s shame or frustration.
    Or perhaps she had simply grown tired of seeing
Illyana cry.
    “You tried to save me from whatever the Daughters had
intended for me,” Adriana said. “I appreciate that, Illyana.” She
met Illyana’s gaze once more. This time, the determination that
made Adriana the Daughters’ most ruthless assassin returned. “You
created me, but you are not my mother.”
    Illyana’s gaze lost its focus. She turned away from
Adriana, once again gripping the edge of the countertop. Tears of
blood splattered upon its surface.
    “Dominique is my blood,” Adriana continued. “I will find
her, and I will destroy those who corrupted her. If I should fail,
if I should—”
    Illyana grabbed the bowl with both hands and slammed
it onto the countertop, shattering it.
    Adriana remained silent.