Curse of Night

by Emily Goodwin

  “Callie,” Ruby snaps, and I blink, tearing my eyes away from hallway leading to the dorms.

  “Sorry,” I rush out, trying to shove my emotions away. I hug Binx a little tighter and walk briskly the rest of the way to Tabatha’s study. The fireplace is lit and the smell of lavender and sage hits me before Ruby even opens the door.

  “Grand Master,” Ruby says, bowing her head out of respect to Albert. He led my trial; I suppose it’s only fitting he question me as well. He’s sitting at Tabatha’s desk and is wearing a dark gray dressing robe with the planetary symbols embroidered along the breast.

  The study has been rearranged a bit, and Tabatha and Sister Selena—the Academy’s counselor— are seated to the left of the desk. There’s one other chair to the right, for Ruby, and one across from the others for me.

  I take in another breath and take my seat, keeping Binx on my lap. Tabatha is tense, and I can sense it even from where I’m sitting. Leaving the coven hurts me, and I know it hurts her, too.

  She was like a mother to me.

  She saved me. Brought me here. Taught me how to be the witch I am today.

  I don’t want to lose her.

  Grand Master Albert clears his throat and opens a file. “I was most disappointed when this came across my desk,” he starts, pulling out my petition. “You are a witch of high talents, Miss Martin,” he says, refusing to acknowledge my married name. “High talents that are a shame to waste.”

  I open my mouth to say I’m not wasting my talents, but Tabatha flashes me a keep your mouth shut look. I snap my teeth together and lean back, waiting for him to go on.

  “I had thought I’d made myself clear before when I spoke on behalf of the Grand Coven. You were forbidden to associate with vampires.”

  “I’m aware,” I say, feeling his gaze seer into me. “And I knew that was something I didn’t want to do, which is why I left the coven. I didn’t want to break rules or put anyone in a precarious situation.”

  “And what about yourself? Aren’t you in a precarious situation living with a vampire?”

  “I do not believe I am,” I say slowly. “Nor do I think being with a vampire puts anyone else in our coven in one.”

  “You trust this vampire?” Albert asks, and Ruby and Sister Selena both stiffen. Never trust a vampire is Witch 101. Vampires hate witches. Witches hate vampires.

  But things can change.

  “I do.” Binx jumps off my lap, trotting across the room to greet Tabatha’s familiar, a snowy white fox named Artemis.

  “And you filed this petition out of your own free will?”

  “I did.”

  “If you are being threatened, know we are more than capable of dealing with vampires.”

  “I’m aware.” I cross my legs. “I am, too.”

  Albert pulls another paper out of the file. “According to your records, you’ve escaped a traumatic past that could influence your judgement.”

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “I am in love with the vampire,” I say, careful not to mention Lucas’s name, though I’m sure he’s already been identified to the Grand Coven. “And that has nothing to do with my past.”

  Albert looks at Selena. “You treated the girl in her youth. What are your thoughts on her mental state?”

  I shoot Tabatha a look, and she responds with a slight shake of her head. There’s nothing she can do.

  “Callie is a unique case,” Sister Selena starts. “She struggled with nightmares and flashbacks regularly, as expected, but within just a year’s time, she improved tremendously.”

  “Look,” I interrupt. “If I had daddy issues, I would have gone for someone tall, dark, and balding who has an interest in politics and a pedigree in racism. Not a vampire who treats me better than any human boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

  Albert looks at me, almost as if he’s considering my words, but goes back to questioning Sister Selena over my mental state. After fifteen long minutes, with Ruby looking way too interested in my jaded past, it’s determined that I’m not a basket case anymore, and I’ve shown no recent signs of PTSD or impaired thinking—other than marrying a vampire, of course.

  “Do you understand the implications of leaving the coven?” Albert asks, folding his hands together.

  “Yes.” I part my lips and take in a shaky breath. “I understand completely, and I hope someday we can get rid of these stupid rules. Don’t you think maybe vampires and witches keep on hating each other because we’re taught to hate each other? I’m not saying we need to all become BFFs, but we can coexist without the constant threats of killing each other. We are always at risk of persecution, but isn’t it time to move forward and stop spreading hate?”

  Tabatha leans back in her chair, looking at Albert with a smug smile.

  “Did you forget the vampires once tried to wipe us out of existence?”

  “Germany and the U.S. weren’t on good terms for a while either, and now they’re allies.” I think. Maybe? I’m not that good on U.S. history. No one corrects me, so I assume I’m right.

  “The vampires coming out put all supernaturals at risk.”

  “They didn’t do it to spite us,” I counter, unable to help myself. “They just wanted to be able to own property and get jobs. Things we can do. They fought us out of jealousy before. Now that they’ve mainstreamed, that’s one less thing we have that they don’t.”

  Albert looks at me curiously. “It’s a shame you’re leaving the coven, Miss Martin. You seem to have a knack for politics. A witch of your talent could do wonders on the Grand Council.”

  I physically recoil. Anything associated with politics has been tainted, instantly reminding me of my asshole “father.” Albert spends a minute or two writing something down, and silence falls over the room.

  “Am I, uh, free to go?” I ask.

  “You are once you sign here.” Albert opens a wooden box and takes out a silver quill. I know how this pen works, and the moment I put it to paper, it will prick my finger and I’ll sign my name in blood. He taps a yellowed page in an old leather book. The book keeps records of every witch and warlock in—or out—of the covens the Grand Coven oversees. I signed this book when I was eleven, officially joining Grim Gate Coven. And now I’m signing that I am no longer a part of the same coven.

  “I assume you’ll want to say your goodbyes before you’re escorted out of the Covenstead.”

  “Yes,” I say, hit with emotion again. I’m holding onto the hope this won’t keep me away from my friends. Being on probation didn’t before, and it’s not going to stop us now. Though if I have time to walk the halls once more, I’m doing it.

  Binx winds around my feet as I cross the room, going to the desk. I take the quill and put it to the book, feeling the prick immediately. I sign my name and put the quill back in the box, bringing my bleeding finger to my mouth.

  “Very curious,” Albert mutters, leaning down toward the paper. Callie sunk into the paper like it was supposed to, but King isn’t, and my blood is pooling into a little puddle on the page.

  Fuck.

  The last time I signed this book, none of my angel power had been unlocked. I was more witch than Nephilim in a sense, and I didn’t even think about it this time around.

  My heart skips a beat, and I flick my eyes to Tabatha out of panic—a bad move on my part. Ruby notices and stands, pulling the book to her.

  “What kind of trick is this?” she demands.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I say and see Tabatha turn to Artemis out of the corner of my eye. The white fox gets up and shadows out of the room.

  “Then how do you explain this?” She motions to the book. Albert puts on his glasses, studying my blood on the page. My heart is pounding now and nerves are prickling along my spine.

  What if he’s able to figure out what I am? He has my blood.

  “I couldn’t even step foot inside the Covenstead,” I remind her. “And I assume the book has been in the Grand Master’s possession this whole time
.”

  “It has,” Albert says distantly. He picks up the quill, turning it over in his hands. “There are spells put in place—complicated spells—that prevent this book from being tampered with.” He dips the tip of the quill into a little pool of my blood. “But this…this has only happened a few times before.” He looks up at me. “And it was because the witch trying to sign wasn’t a witch at all.”

  Chapter 18

  “That’s ridiculous,” Tabatha says with a laugh. “Of course Callie is a witch. She’s already signed the book once.”

  “I have,” I rush out. “Like twenty years ago, and there weren’t any issues then.”

  Albert looks back at the book. “Then there must be…be something wrong with the enchantment,” he mumbles as he runs his finger along the page, slowly shaking his head. “Or perhaps the book doesn’t want you leaving.” He turns his head back up to mine. “You’re meant to remain in the coven.”

  “She’s the one who wants to leave. Don’t forget she’s the one who turned her back on us and married a vampire!” Ruby storms over and takes my hand. “She did something, I know. Got nonmagical blood to sign in or…or…” She holds my finger up, looking at the little pinprick. Still not satisfied, she squeezes my finger and makes another bead of blood pool on my skin.

  “Ouch,” I say and snatch my hand back.

  “That’s enough.” Tabatha’s voice echoes through the study. She stands and strides over. “Clearly there is something wrong with the enchantments on the book, and they will be looked into at once. I’ll do it myself just to be sure.” Tabatha picks up the book, staring at my blood on the page.

  My heart is hammering away in my chest, and the fire in the fireplace is suddenly too hot. Sweat breaks out between my breasts and along my brow.

  “Miss Martin’s petition has been filed and reviewed according to Witch Law,” Tabatha goes on, remaining calm. “She is no longer part of this coven and needs to be escorted out.”

  “But the blood,” Ruby presses, looking at Albert, whose eyes are darting back and forth between me and the book. I want to know what he’s thinking as much as I don’t. I can live in ignorant bliss…until it gets me killed.

  Tabatha is doing her best to try and dismiss this, but it’s obvious something is going on. The book absorbs witch blood. As far as anyone knows, I’m a witch. It should absorb my blood without any issue.

  “Miss Martin,” Albert begins, extending the quill. He’s going to ask me to try again, and the same thing will happen, making it all the more apparent something is wrong.

  With me.

  My fingers tremble as I reach for the quill, but suddenly heavy footfalls echo down the hallway. We all look at the door, and a second later, Evander bursts in.

  “Thank goodness you’re all here,” he pants.

  “What is it?” Tabatha turns, face tight with worry. “Did something happen at the Academy?”

  “Yes, but the students are all right.” Evander lets out a breath and comes into the study, closing the door behind him.

  “We’re in a meeting,” Ruby rushes out, but Albert holds out his hand.

  “Tell me, Brother Greystone,” he begins. “What happened?”

  “I was preparing a lesson for my next class,” Evander says, going to the desk. “Just an introduction to how to stay vigilant against dark magic. I set up a map with a crystal and, well…I found something. Something dark.” Evander’s brows furrow, and it’s really too bad he went into teaching and not acting. “And from what I’ve gathered, it seems someone has been practicing necromancy on our lands.”

  “Are you sure?” Tabatha asks.

  “I fear I am, Mother. I sent Nerissa to investigate,” he goes on, speaking about his familiar. “And she brought back this.” He pulls a bundle of burned herbs from his robe pocket.

  Tabatha gasps, and Albert leans away in shock. Damn, Evander is good.

  “We need to look into this straight away,” Tabatha rushes out. “Professor Darrows, please see Miss Martin out.”

  So much for saying goodbye to this place.

  “But she didn’t sign,” Ruby argues. “She has to sign.”

  “She will,” Albert presses. “As it’s Witch Law. There are more pressing matters at hand here. Something is going on with the book, and if necromancers are afoot…they need to be dealt with at once.”

  “Of course.” Tabatha flicks her eyes to Artemis, and Binx goes over, rubbing his head against the fox’s, purring. Tabatha is telepathically telling something to her familiar, and he’s telling it to Binx, who’ll be able to relay the message to me.

  Fucking genius.

  “Miss Martin,” Tabatha starts, and we’re all able to hear the emotion in her voice. “You are no longer part of this coven. You are no longer welcome in our Covenstead. Please leave at once.”

  It’s just formalities. She has to say it. But it hurts. I nod, and tears roll down my cheeks.

  “Come on,” Ruby says, a little softer this time.

  Afraid my voice will come out too thin, too shaky, I just nod again and follow Ruby out of the study. I wipe my eyes and pull my hood back up.

  It’s just formalities.

  Why did I think I’d come back sometime? It’s not like the laws are going to change within my lifetime. This place was my home…though I suppose I never really belonged here.

  I’m only half witch.

  Half angel.

  If I don’t belong at Grim Gate, then where do I belong?

  The glow of my back porch lights comes into view, and I pick up the pace. I’ve had a chill since walking through the door, and I know it’s not just from the chilly night air. I did what I had to do, and I know I’ll still see my friends.

  Besides Kristy, I didn’t see the others on a daily basis before, yet the option was always there. If I wanted to go the Academy library, I could. If I wanted to go hang out in the Gathering Hall and chat with the other witches, all I had to do was walk through the door. And now that’s been taken away from me, and it’s more painful than I anticipated.

  The back door opens and shuts, and Lucas appears before me in the blink of an eye.

  “How did everything go?” he asks, taking my hands in his. I swallow the lump in my throat and look up, wanting to tell him it’s fine, but I don’t have the strength to put up a front. The tears I’ve been holding back fall like rain, and Lucas cradles me to his chest. “I’m sorry, Callie. It’s not right that you had to choose.”

  “I’d choose you a hundred times over,” I whisper, resting my head against his chest. “I’ll always choose you.”

  Lucas takes my face in his large hands and gently tips my chin up to his. “And I would choose you over anything and everything. You are everything to me, my love.”

  I close my eyes, jaw quivering, and let more tears fall. Lucas was the one who told me not to be ashamed of my emotions. Don’t bottle them up. Don’t let them embarrass me. Feeling pain keeps us annoyingly human.

  “The book wouldn’t absorb my blood.” I take in a shaky breath and wrap my arms around Lucas’s waist. He folds his muscular arms around me, and everything feels better.

  “What book?”

  “It’s like a witch census. You sign when you join a coven and you sign if you leave the coven willingly. I signed when I was a kid before…”

  “Before your father unlocked some of your angelic powers.”

  “Right. When I signed just now, my blood pooled together.”

  Lucas’s brows furrow. “They will question you about it.”

  I nod. “Tabatha must have had her reservations about it. She and Evander staged this whole big thing.” I shake my head. “I hate that she’s getting more and more involved in my lies. It’s not right to put them at risk.”

  “They put themselves at risk,” Lucas says, trying to comfort me. “They care for you.”

  “I know.” My breath hitches in my chest. “But that doesn’t make it right. They covered for me—for us—before, and now the
y’re covering for me again.”

  “What would the Grand Coven do if they found out you were a Nephilim?” Lucas asks carefully.

  I slowly shake my head. “I honestly don’t even know. They wouldn’t persecute me, I’m sure of that.” I let my eyes fall shut. “They could offer protection, but the more people who know who I am, the more at risk I am for my lovely relatives finding out about me, which would then lead them on a murder spree. This is so fucked up.”

  “Breathe,” Lucas tells me as he gently runs his fingers through my hair. “Let’s go inside and get back to our evening of doing nothing until your friends arrive for dinner.” He runs his hands down my arms. “Or we could talk a walk. It’s a nice night.”

  I nod and look up at the sky. A few wispy clouds stretch across the star-studded sky. “It is nice. And I’m not sure Evander and Felix will make it.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Pouting, I look up at Lucas. “If it weren’t for Felix, you might be…be…”

  “Dead,” he says harshly. “I’m aware. But I’m also aware your ex-lover is still in love with you.”

  “Not everyone who dated me is still in love with me, you know.”

  “How could they not be?”

  I roll my eyes, feeling a slight blush come to my cheeks. “I’m a bit of a basket case, you know.”

  “You’re my basket case,” he growls, lowering his head to mine.

  “Remember how my hot-mess, psychotic side turns you on now, because in a few years you’ll be ready to put up the padded walls so you can lock me away.”

  “Never.” Lucas draws his fangs and tightens his hold on me, pressing my body against his. The wind blows, and suddenly, I’m aware of everything.

  My heart pounds silently in the night, beating along his still body.

  Pounds of muscle and flesh press against me.

  “I love you,” I whisper. “And I only care about you loving me.”

  “Good,” he grunts, tipping my face up to his. He kisses me softly and then pushes my hair back. “You did mention the house has at least one place clean enough for me to strip you down and fuck you senseless.”