The Witch's Vampire

by Jami Brumfield

  “Us?”

  “My mother, Tiffany, Giovanni, and Thanatos.”

  The council members started grumbling, and the audience was full of murmurs. Sophie looked around. “I’m sorry, but getting evidence when your life is in danger is not the easiest task. My story can be corroborated which should count for something.”

  “What she is saying is true.” Tiffany stood up from the back of the room. “I’m sure my brother has verified this information as well.”

  “A hunter and his sister’s word is hardly something we easily believe.” Eric snapped coldly. It was shocking to Sophie to see her good-natured friend act so angry. It was a testament to how much pressure everyone in this town was under. Something had to be done to put things back to normal.

  “And what about mine?” Giovanni asked. “Have my years on this council not proven I’m honest and trustworthy?”

  “It has, up until your recent relationship with the witch doctor. Lately your judgment has been clouded by emotions, and frankly, we aren’t sure if you’re thinking straight.” Mariah stated with obvious distrust.

  “Excuse me?” Sophie felt affronted and needed to make sure she knew it.

  “Let’s not pull punches, Mariah. You’ve never particularly trusted me because I’m a vampire not because I’m untrustworthy, and the fact that my true-mate happens to be a witch doesn’t help matters either.”

  “Gio, I don’t think…” Sophie began.

  “I won’t deny the idea of a witch and a vampire together makes my skin crawl.” Mariah interrupted Sophie. “However, I have respected you despite your existence, Giovanni, and I have always respected the family lines Sophie hails from. So I give you both the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, your stories are hard to believe.”

  “Would you believe Death?” Giovanni asked and the room went silent.

  Thanatos stood up and smiled. “Thanks for the wonderful introduction, Giovanni. For those of you that are not familiar with me, I am Thanatos. Some call me death, others call me the deliverer of souls. Most of you are familiar with my reapers.”

  “We are pleased to have you visit our town.” Eric smiled a greeting that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “What brings death to our door?” Harmony asked.

  “You fine warriors have been tasked by the gods to guard a very special portal. A portal that not only provides power to your races, but also offers a gateway for us to return home. A home your elders know we’d been exiled from. If we were to return without permission hell would reign on this earth far worse than anyone could ever imagine.”

  “A story we’ve passed down over the generations.” Mariah responded.

  “What you don’t understand is that Giovanni, Tiffany, Sophie, and Christopher are correct. The gods that are laying siege to your people are angry, powerful gods, and are very dangerous. They will stop at nothing to gain access to your portal.”

  “Then we will band together to stop them. After all, we have the blood of the gods running through our veins, and we are greater in numbers together.” Harmony tossed a glance toward Brick.

  “I have no doubt you have the strength to defend your community and the portal. I’d like to place your town under my protection. That will keep the gods from your doors as treaties are in place to keep the gods from fighting each other.”

  “And what of the dream weavers and nephilim hunters?” Harmony asked.

  “I’ll happily loan my reapers to aid in any battles that come about with the weavers and the hunters.”

  “Your offer is very generous, Thanatos. We must discuss it.” Mariah advised.

  “Of course. But know the longer you wait the more attacks will happen.” Thanatos offered an understanding smile. “I know this group, and they’ll stop at nothing to get what they want.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brick never announced his plan to go to war. Perhaps he was waiting to see how the situation with Death’s offer panned out first, but Marissa left with the Fae and Sophie felt a slight uneasiness about her decision to go. Sophie was about to leave with Giovanni when her father approached her with Chelsea and Mariah in tow. Gio tightened his grip on her hip and pulled her closer causing a fire to bloom from her midsection and spread throughout her body.

  “Sophie, may we speak to you for a moment?”

  “Sure, father.” Sophie smiled, but didn’t move from Gio’s possessive embrace. She liked the way it felt having him at her side.

  “Alone?” Mariah narrowed her eyes on Gio.

  “Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Gio.” Sophie replied simply. “I know a match between our races is not ideal, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about him.”

  “How do you know he hasn’t compelled you?” Chelsea asked, always straight to the point.

  “What would he get out of compelling me?” Sophie couldn’t believe they were being so blatantly rude in front of Gio.

  “Power over the witch doctor.” Mariah’s lips curled under in disgust. “Whoever controls the healer carries a heavy burden with bountiful rewards.”

  “So now I’m unable to think for myself?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “You might not if he compelled you.” Chelsea answered simply.

  “You’re new to this world, Sophie and with that newness comes a touch of naivety. We just want to make sure you’re in this relationship of your own will.”

  Sophie shook her head. But their questioning made her think. What if he had? “Gio is sacrificing just as much to be with me as I am to be with him.” I hope.

  “And how does your father feel about this match, Giovanni?” Mariah asked with a knowing, wicked smile. Sophie was really beginning to dislike the elder.

  “I wouldn’t know since he is missing.” Giovanni was ramrod straight. His character was coming under question and he didn’t appreciate the insinuations.

  “Convenient.”

  “But it wouldn’t change how I feel about Sophie. Our love is a gift from the gods, one I intend to cherish for as long as I’m allowed to hold her. And as for the compelling question, you can easily see she is under no spell, being witches you have that ability, you’re just trying to raise doubt in her mind. But Sophie and I have agreed, no games, and that is how we will build this relationship.”

  “Some suspect you had something to do with that escape at the jail.” Rafe altered the direction of the conversation.

  “You can suspect all you want, but if it’s not proven that is all it is, suspicion.” Sophie defended her man even though she knew he was responsible, he did it for a good reason.

  “I understand the nephilim is cooperating. Perhaps he will tell you who released him?” Gio knew that was a gamble, but he’d let it play out.

  “Christopher says he doesn’t know who broke him out. He says the person who freed him was wearing a mask and silent.” Rafe added.

  “So I guess you have your answer then. Perhaps discussing the offer Thanatos made is a better use of the council’s time rather than speculating who broke out the prisoners.”

  “Perhaps.” Mariah agreed.

  They all stood there in an uncomfortable silence. “Sophie, I’ll leave you to discuss whatever is so important I’m not allowed to hear. Will I see you at my place later?”

  “Yes.” Sophie smiled.

  Gio turned to leave, but Sophie stopped him and kissed him. It wasn’t a soft, see-you-soon kiss, but a deep hungry kiss that made it clear to all that were watching where her heart lay. “I’ll see you soon.” She grinned when she broke the kiss.

  He brushed back a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and smiled, “I can’t wait.” And with that he left.

  Sophie watched him leave. She was certain she’d never get tired of watching him walk away. It was about equal to watching him saunter up to her and taking her in his arms. When he was gone, she turned back to the witches’ angry glares. The only one that wore a smile was her father. “Alright, what was so imp
ortant that I had to talk to you alone?”

  Mariah smiled and blew some dust into Sophie’s face. One minute she was coughing and the next the world went black. She was vaguely aware of her father and Chelsea placing her arms over their shoulders and supporting her weight as her consciousness began to sink into a slumber. A call to Giovanni for help was the last thought on her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sophie found herself in the dream realm again. Mariah must have blown a sleep potion into her face which meant she was in danger. Stupid witch! How dare she meddle in things she knew nothing about? Her first thought was to get out before the weavers found her. She knew how to do it now. All she had to do was scare herself silly. But how does one go about scaring themselves? She could throw herself off a cliff, but she wasn’t sure she had the courage to do something like that. Not to mention, looking around she realized she was in a desert, not Colorado anymore. How did that happen?

  She took a deep breath. She was letting herself get carried away with the surroundings, getting sucked up into the sandman’s spell. She needed to remember this was a dream. Then a thought occurred to her. “Mother?”

  If she was stuck here maybe she could search for and rescue her mother. A guilty feeling crossed her mind. She promised Gio she’d wait for him before she tried to find her, but if fate offers you a cookie you take it, right? He couldn’t blame her for taking advantage of the situation.

  Only how did she find her? And what would she use to protect herself when she did? Manifestation. The word echoed in her mind. She remembered what Thanatos told today. ‘In the dream realm you can manifest anything you need. All you have to do is close your eyes and visualize what you want and it should appear, unless you’ve been spelled by a weaver to keep you from using that power.’

  “Okay, Thanatos,” Sophie said out loud, “let’s see how well this manifestation thing works.” She closed her eyes and wished for a sword. She felt the weight of a hilt and metal in her hands. It was heavier than she expected. “One strong enough to defend against the weavers and the gods.” She whispered and kept her eyes closed as she felt the sword change, the smell of sulfur and heat forced her to open her eyes. Her mouth flew open as she took in the sight of the silver sword on fire in her hand. It was strikingly similar to the one Christopher held her captive with. The grip wasn’t hot, but she felt the heat singe the hairs on her arm.

  “Hello, Sophie.” The ninja dressed in black, the same one that saved her days ago, was standing in front of her unarmed.

  “Stay back, I’m not afraid to use this.” Sophie lied. She didn’t even know how to use it let alone want to hurt someone with it. All she wanted to do was protect herself and free her mother.

  “Nike sent me to help you.” The woman who looked of oriental decent smiled softly. “I am Layla. Please put out the sword before you hurt yourself.” She placed her right fist over her heart and nodded her head stiffly.

  “I’d very much like to do that, but I have no idea how I lit it in the first place.” Sophie admitted.

  “Use your mind. The power in the dream realm is in your mind.” Layla circled around Sophie slowly. Her logic was sound. Her subconscious was connected to the dream realm some way. She narrowed her eyes on Layla, nothing about her actions or tone of voice scared her, but she was technically the enemy which made her feel uneasy.

  “How do I know if I can trust you?”

  “You don’t, but sometimes you must take a leap of faith.” Layla placed her hand on Sophie’s and helped her calm her mind enough to put out the fire on the blade. “Close your eyes and tell the sword to return to normal.”

  At least she was honest and she did save her once. She said Nike sent her, and Nike seemed to be the only one of the Gods that defended her. Sophie did as Layla instructed and the heat reduced. She opened one eye and saw the last of the fire extinguish itself. “Wow.”

  “You do know that you don’t need weapons here. You have the power of life and death in your hands.” Layla pointed out as she admired Sophie’s free hand. “So much power in such tiny, innocuous weapons.”

  “Power I’m not comfortable with. I think I’ll hold onto this weapon just in case.”

  Layla shrugged, “as you wish.”

  Sophie wished for a sheath and one appeared strapped to her back. She put the sword away and turned to Layla. “Are you going to help me release my mother?”

  “Your mother has already passed on.”

  “She wouldn’t have gone without saying goodbye.” Sophie couldn’t believe it.

  “She had no choice. After you left the gods were angry and her soul was in danger so she chose to pass through her door. Even the gods can’t interfere with death.”

  “But Thanatos would have told us.” Sophie didn’t understand. Surely he would’ve let her know her mother had passed.

  Layla shrugged, “perhaps he doesn’t know yet. Thanatos’ reapers usually collect the souls, and he delivers them to the afterlife. If a soul has been collected, but not delivered, it remains in purgatory or limbo. Only the reapers and death can enter purgatory without an escort.”

  Sophie knew what Layla was saying was true, Thanatos told her as much earlier that day. But she couldn’t believe her mother would’ve left without saying goodbye. “And you’re sure?”

  “Yes. I saw her pass through the veil.”

  “So she is safe?”

  Layla shrugged again. “I’ve never been to purgatory. I cannot say if she is safe or not at this point, only that she is no longer in danger in the dream realm.”

  “Okay, so now what? Are you going to scare me again?”

  Layla shook her head, her luxurious black hair fell loose around her face. “You’ve been spelled. I can’t wake you from a dream because you’re asleep by unnatural means. Sleep dust from the smell of it, which concerns me. How did a weaver get access to you on the human plane?”

  “You don’t live in my realm?”

  “Of course, only we are weaker there. Our element is this plane of existence. I can’t see how a weaver would have the strength to get near you.”

  “Mariah, the witch elder, was the one that used the dust on me.”

  “I don’t know any weavers named Mariah.” Layla pursed her lips as she tried to think of the weavers she did know.

  “Of course you wouldn’t recognize me. I’m a hybrid witch-weaver. My father fell in love with my mother, Celeste, who was a dream weaver.” Mariah appeared out of thin air.

  “Ah, Celeste. I remember a Celeste who died giving birth, but I didn’t know you were named Mariah.” Layla smiled a greeting to her fellow weaver.

  “That’s because weavers are a particularly snobby group I’ve discovered. Any imperfections and you turn your back on each other.” Mariah snapped.

  “We are warriors, imperfections are weaknesses we can’t afford.” Layla tried to explain as only a warrior could. Void of any emotion. She envied warriors for that ability to shut off feelings. She couldn’t do it, and she hoped that was what would make her a good healer.

  “My father’s family accepted me for what I was and mother left me details to train in the art of weaving. When I finished those lessons my grandfather sought out an exiled weaver for more information.” Mariah raised her hands in the air and a whirlwind circled around her. When the wind was gone a younger version of Mariah stood in front of them. She had long, red flowing hair and green eyes. Her face held only a few wrinkles which was far different from the folded skin her human image now wore.

  Layla was armed and ready to fight.

  “I’m not here to fight. I came to discuss Sophie’s future, and the mistake she is making choosing to mate with a vampire.”

  “It may be a mistake, but it is hers to make, don’t you think?” Layla asked, refusing to put away her weapon.

  “Excuse me, still in the room.” Everyone had a bad habit of talking about her while she was right there and it irritated her.

  Mariah manifested a sword of h
er own from the cane she carried. “I only want her to know all the facts before she makes that commitment. I thought this would be a good place to do that. Giovanni has a long, sordid past full of death and destruction.”

  Sophie assumed that was true. He eluded to as much before. The man was a vampire who’d lived centuries on this earth. But just like all souls need to learn so do vampires. “We all have pasts.”

  “Yes but few have had pasts like, Giovanni’s.” Mariah waved her hand to the sky and a large picture screen appeared overhead. “Here are some highlights.” Mariah’s wicked glare sparkled from her green eyes.

  Pictures of death flashed across the screen. Gio killing people through the ages; some by hand, some by fangs, others even more brutally. Sophie recognized his father right before Giovanni snapped his neck. His head fell as he sobbed. Then she saw him in military uniform. She didn’t know if blue meant Confederate or Yankee and it didn’t matter. He killed countless men on the battle field, defending himself and his men as he forged them onward.