Reading Online Novel

Davina (Davy Harwood #3)(51)



“I can’t tell. She’s got a robe on, but . . .” Cal started to edge out from behind them. “Um . . .”

“Stop.” Tracey pushed him back. “You’re back there for safety.”

He pointed around her. “Either the chick nun is deaf and blind or there’s something funky going on for her not to see us. I think we’re safe.”

“Cal.” Spencer pulled him back. His voice dipped low. “We gotta do what they say. They’re not human.”

Cal said back, his voice dipping just as low, “I don’t think that chick is either.”

“Great.”

“Why do I have a feeling we’re not going to get out of this alive?”

The more the two humans conversed, the more guilt Davy was feeling.

“Get off your high horse.”

The Immortal was laughing at her. “They’re lucky to be brought on this path with you.”

“Stop,” Davy said to her.

“No. I mean it. Their lives were useless. Humans are weak and pathetic. They’ll probably be turned into vampires. If you don’t send them back to safety, the others will change them. They’ll do it to save their lives and when that happens, the two humans will get the best thing possible. They’ll have power and immortality.”

“Losing one’s humanity is not a gift. It’s a curse.”

“Having humanity is a curse. Look at you. Once you give in, you won’t feel any pain. There’ll be no more guilt, no more shame, self-loathing. None of that. You’ll be free. We’ll be free and we can do anything we want.”

“Stop . . .” But as she tried to muster the strength to shut The Immortal up, Davy found there was none. Her strength was depleting, at least against her own inner demon.

“That’s what you think of me?”

Davy shot back, “Aren’t you? You’re not human.”

“I’m not weak. There’s a difference.”

“Humans are weak.”

The Immortal snorted. “Right.”

“They aren’t.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Davy growled, her hands back into fists, and she lashed back, “Being human is strong. It’s courage. It’s strength. It’s moral.”

The Immortal interrupted, saying, “It’s pain. It’s misery. It’s heartache. It’s loneliness. It’s suffering. It’s being selfish. It’s opening up your heart and only getting hurt in response. It’s helping others and having them turn their back on you. It’s loving and being cheated on. It’s giving, then getting betrayed. It’s . . . foolish. You’re not human anymore, Davy.”

“Shut up . . .”

“Admit it. The sooner you do, the freer you’ll become. The stronger you’ll become.”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve already started to turn your humanity off. I don’t understand why you won’t admit it. You don’t feel pain. You don’t feel misery. You don’t feel fatigue. In fact, you’re impatient. The others are slowing you down. You can go faster, farther, beyond any of them. They’re an anchor to your abilities, but you won’t leave them—

“SHUT UP!”

A surge of power and magic burst inside of her, and as it happened, Davy knew instantly it was a mistake. She wanted to silence The Immortal—she silenced her magic instead . . .

She looked up, and the Mori was staring right at her.

“Oops.”

“What?” Tracey whipped around, her hand grabbing onto her sword.

Davy couldn’t look away from the Mori. She didn’t move. In a normal situation, she should’ve fled or at least attacked with a spell. She did neither. Something was holding her in place, and she continued to hold the Mori’s gaze.

She was drawing the vampire into her mind.

Tracey and the others knew they could be seen by now and had their weapons drawn. Davy flung her hands out and barked, “No! Don’t move.”

“Who are you?” the Mori asked in her mind. She had beautiful doe eyes, high cheekbones, a heart-shaped jawline that curved to petite pink lips. She didn’t stand in Davy’s mind with the robe. The Mori female was in a white dress and nothing else. No makeup. No shoes. No socks. She was barefoot, and her long black hair swung freely as she gazed around her surroundings. A small line appeared in her forehead. “Where am I?”

“My mind.”

“Your mind?”

This Mori wasn’t the enemy. Davy felt goodness from her. She wasn’t a warrior that would instantly kill. That was why Davy was drawn to her, pulling her into her mind. It was a safe place, for both of them.