Sacred Spite

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Sacred Spite Page 7

by Nadia Heaton


  Mirabelle seemed floored by that. “A vampire willingly submitted to your magic?”

  “He could see it was the only way we’d believe him. I really don’t think he meant us any harm.”

  “But why would he even come to you about this? He knows that witches wouldn’t welcome him or any of his kind. Wherever his brother is, it’s likely to be as far away from us as he can possibly get.”

  Savion watched with bated breath, worried that Fleur would slip up. His original estimation had obviously been wrong. She wasn’t telling the coven the whole story; she was still protecting him. The talk she’d had with her sisters came back to mind. They discussed how to protect Bethany and Jermaine. Perhaps they didn’t care about Savion, but Bethany’s fate was tied to Jermaine’s, and her sisters wouldn’t put her in danger.

  His worries were for nothing. Fleur lied smoothly, with no trace of it on her face. “He said he’d last seen his brother in the area, and figured that if anyone would be aware of the comings and goings of vampires around their home, it would be a coven of witches. And to be honest, if we did know where his brother was, we probably would have just given him the location so that he’d take the guy and leave.”

  Mirabelle nodded, though her lips were pursed. “Did you find out where they’re staying?”

  Lisette spoke up. “They didn’t give us their location, but I believe they would most likely be with Rashid up the coast.”

  So, the witches did know about Rashid’s vampire parties. That they hadn’t interfered was a good sign. Maybe Rashid was far enough from town that Mirabelle thought it would be less trouble to leave him to his own devices.

  “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” Mirabelle paused to be sure everyone was listening to her. “I want everyone to put protection spells over their houses tonight, and keep them up until we’re sure the vampires have left. From tomorrow, we’ll start going out in groups looking for this lost vampire. Fleur is right – the sooner we return him to his coven, the sooner they will leave us alone.”

  That surprised Savion, though it shouldn’t have. He knew that witches would sooner see vampires dead than reunited, but he also knew that they both had a lot riding on peace between their two species. There was a reason they weren’t involved in an all-out war – it would be too costly on both sides. No matter how they may wish otherwise, both vampires and witches usually tried to stay out of each other’s way.

  Savion didn’t know how that fit in with the recent attack on the volcano, but perhaps this coven hadn’t been involved in that at all. He didn’t think that was the case, though. He had no proof, but he suspected everything was connected.

  A witch coven had attacked the volcano shortly after Bethany returned home to her three witch sisters. If he had to guess, Savion would say they tracked her back to Jermaine, finally learning the location of the volcano.

  Surprisingly, the thought that it might be this very coven who had attacked his didn’t make Savion very angry. Somehow, he couldn’t be angry with Fleur. He decided to keep his suspicions to himself, though. If Vince and Zan thought these were the people who had attacked their home, they likely wouldn’t be as forgiving as Savion was.

  His attention was brought back to the meeting as Mirabelle continued questioning Fleur. “What else did they say?”

  “There was nothing else.”

  Mirabelle narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “There has to be something else. What the vampire said about his brother may be true, but there would still have to be a powerful reason for him to come to witches. He’s probably right that we would be the most likely to know of any vampire activity in the area, but what made him think we wouldn’t vaporize him on the spot the moment he stepped into our territory?”

  Fleur just shrugged, her eyes to the ground. No, don’t do that! Savion wished he could talk to her. She was just making herself look guilty by not coming up with an answer. It was essential that the coven believed her. If they found out that the LeBlanc sisters knew where Jermaine was… Jermaine would be dead, and Savion didn’t think things would go too well for Fleur, either.

  Lisette broke in. “That’s all, Mirabelle. Maybe there’s more going on here than we can see, but what we’ve told you is all we were able to glean from that one meeting. If they come again, we can ask more questions, but I suspect they’ll stay away. We told Savion we don’t know where his brother is; I doubt he’d be foolish enough to come back for nothing.”

  This seemed to appease Mirabelle, but Savion thought that she still wasn’t convinced she was being told everything.

  “Alright. We need to figure out how many vampires there are in the area, and if they’re all staying with Rashid. If they stay with him, that’s fine, but if they’re going to go poking their noses around here, we’ll have a problem. A simple reminder of whose territory they’re in should suffice. Feel free to hurt them, but don’t kill if you have a choice, or the whole vampire coven will come after us in a blood fued.”

  “I can check out Rashid’s place.” The witch Savion thought he remembered being referred to Amanda looked to Mirabelle for confirmation. “I can use stealth spells to get close and observe. If there’s anything to be found out, I’ll find it.”

  “Good idea. Lisette, go with her as backup. Fleur, you keep manning the shop; the vampires might figure out that’s a likely place to find you, given the kinds of things you sell. If he comes back, send out a call for backup at once, but don’t attack until help has arrived.”

  “We don’t need to attack,” Fleur said firmly. “They’re not looking for a fight, and we’d be stupid to start one.”

  “We need to make sure that they know to finish their business and get out of the area quickly. Vampires respond to force.”

  Savion ground his teeth. Mirabelle really knew nothing about his kind. They were more likely to respond in a favorable fashion to negotiations than threats. Attack a vampire, and he would go on the defensive, destroying anyone he saw as a threat. The best way to keep things calm was to get out of the situation rationally without initiating a fight.

  Mirabelle kept talking over Fleur’s continued arguments. “Remember, above all, we can’t let them find the eternal flame.”

  Savion frowned at her. They knew exactly where the eternal flame was, they just couldn’t get to it because of the temperatures.

  “Do we need to move it again?” one of the other witches asked.

  “No, I think it’s safe for now. The vampires don’t even know we moved it from its original location. Above all, we can’t let them get hold of it. Our species are too evenly matched. If they get it, we lose our leverage over them, and it will be war… a war we might not win.”

  A slight rustle to his left had Savion shooting a warning look at Zan, but in truth, he was barely restraining himself. Those conniving bitches! They’d moved the eternal flame? Savion wanted to rip their throats out. Not Fleurs, but Mirabelle for sure. He held still with great difficulty. Attacking now would be a suicide mission, and Fleur might get hurt.

  There were a few tense seconds, but Zan managed to get control of himself. Vince was glaring daggers at Mirabelle, but at least he was doing so silently. Savion’s mind was spinning. This couldn’t be happening. The only thing that kept them on somewhat equal footing with the witches was their mutual reliance on each other.

  The eternal flame might be moveable, with magic, but the volcano certainly wasn’t. If the witches could move the vampire source around, knowing all the while where their own source of power was, that would create an imbalance between them.

  Savion knew they’d have to report back to the coven as soon as they could, but it was too dangerous to move right now. They were close enough that the witches’ spells would probably pick up any sign of life.

  “We should cast a protection spell over the town,” Mirabelle continued. “It won’t keep the vampires out, but it will stop them from using their magic here. They’ll still have their bodily abilities, but at least we can curtail
some of the potential chaos they could cause.”

  Not great, but Savion didn’t see what he could do about it.

  The other witches were all nodding, but Fleur spoke up to the contrary. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. They may not be intent on violence now, but a spell like that could be seen as an aggressive move, and vampires don’t react well to aggression. I don’t think it’s necessary, anyway, and we don’t want to use such a big drain on our power unless we’re certain. We may need everything we have if this does turn to a fight.”

  “Noted, Fleur, but I don’t want to take any chances. We’re going ahead with the spell.”

  Fleur looked like she was going to protest, but Lisette put a hand on her arm, and Fleur seemed to reconsider. She nodded at Mirabelle. “You want to lead?”

  “Yes. Everyone get ready.”

  Savion knew such spells existed, but he’d never seen one. He prepared to commit it to memory. The knowledge could prove useful for his people. He pushed aside the lingering worry that he was betraying Fleur in some way, and fixed his eyes on the witches.

  13

  The witches started dancing again. This dance wasn’t like the other one. It was still beautiful, but not in the same way. The other dance had been graceful and elegant. This one was primal, raw and terrifying.

  Savion clutched his branch, his eyes fixed on Fleur. Mirabelle was leading the dance, and Fleur mirrored her movements. It was almost exactly the same, but Fleur added something of her own to it. She was a picture of beauty and power. She was a force of nature.

  Mirabelle spoke again, but it was more of a shriek. The words dissipated into the night, having a physical effect. Savion felt a concussion in the air, and the leaves all around rustled as though in a wind.

  The coven seemed to know this dance perfectly, and they all moved in synchronization, making up different parts of one whole. Fleur spun around, her arms spread wide and her hair flowing out behind her. She had him spellbound. Savion didn’t think he could have looked away if he tried.

  Others started adding their voices. Their eyes were all far away; Savion could see that they were completely immersed in the spell. This was their chance.

  “Vince, Zan.” His whisper was so quiet, human ears wouldn’t pick it up. He could only hope the witches were too distracted to be magically eavesdropping at present. “Go, now, while they’re distracted. Take shelter with Rashid for the next few days, and tell him to do the same. Warn him that the witches are onto us.”

  “What about you?” Vince hissed. “You’d better be coming with us, we’re not leaving you here alone, Sav.”

  “There might be more to discover. We don’t know that the meeting is over yet. I’ll be fine, I’ll wait until they’ve all left. Now hurry, while they’re distracted. Go!”

  Thankfully, neither Vince nor Zan argued any further. They leapt lightly down from their trees, keeping the trunks between themselves and the witches. Savion watched anxiously as they started running, swifter than the human eye could follow.

  Within moments, they had disappeared into the night. He breathed a small sigh of relief. He’d be able to breathe easier when he knew that his friends weren’t in danger alongside him.

  Was he just imagining things, or were Fleur’s movements becoming more and more suggestive? Savion shifted uncomfortable, readjusting his pants. Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Fleur was just doing a spell.

  It happened so quickly. Fleur was spinning around, and for just a moment, her eyes met his. Savion was hidden behind branches, peeking out through the smallest gap between leaves. There was no way she should be able to see him, but somehow, he was entirely certain that she was looking right at him.

  In that moment, Savion resigned himself to never seeing his brother again. He just hoped the witches would make his death quick.

  Don’t move.

  It was Fleur’s voice, but it didn’t come from her lips. It echoed from inside his head. Savion nearly fell out of the tree in shock. He clutched his branch tighter, staring at her. Fleur never stopped dancing, and she didn’t meet his eyes, but he was certain that he hadn’t imagined what had just happened.

  She’d seen him, and she’d spoken to him. Even more shocking, she hadn’t stopped the spell to notify her coven. It could be that she simply didn’t want to ruin the spell and would tell Mirabelle the moment they were done, but Savion didn’t think so.

  Years of experience warred with his instincts. All of his experience with witches told him to run. Fleur knew he was there. The witches would be on him in a second if he made a break for it, but at least he’d have a head start. Sitting here and waiting for them to turn on him the moment it was convenient for them was a mistake he’d reprimand any of his coven harshly for making.

  Yet, he still didn’t move. Even though she was a witch, even though he barely knew her, Savion found he trusted Fleur. Her tone when she’d spoken to him hadn’t been murderous. It had been protective. She wanted to keep him safe. If he was wrong, it would be the last mistake he ever made, but Savion couldn’t bring himself to move. His instincts had never led him astray before, and he was inclined to trust them now.

  As the spell continued, Savion felt the urge to run grow, but it wasn't an urge to run away. No, he felt himself resisting the temptation to run toward Fleur, to take her in his arms.

  Of course, instinct or not, he knew that was a terrible idea. He may trust Fleur, but her coven wouldn’t react well to an intrusion into their sacred space, even if it was only because he wanted to kiss her rather than do anything hostile. They would likely vaporize him first and ask questions later.

  Savion resigned himself to watching from afar. Maybe he’d get a chance to see Fleur again sometime, in a situation where he could talk to her.

  The spell came to an end with one wild shriek from all of the witches. A couple of them staggered, and one or two fell to the ground. Fleur was one of the ones who stayed on her feet. She looked drained, but determined. Savion felt something tighten inside him, a feeling of things not being as they should be.

  He knew that if he was to try to use magic here, or anywhere else in the town, it wouldn’t work. Good thing he didn’t rely on magic much, but he still felt vulnerable with this new restriction.

  Mirabelle went from witch to witch, speaking quietly to them, checking they were alright. She dismissed the coven meeting quietly, and they all started wandering off one by one.

  Fleur stayed where she was, her eyes closed, swaying slightly as though to an invisible tune.

  “Fleur?” Lisette was waiting for her.

  “You go ahead, Lis. I want to see to the forest. It’s been a while since we blessed the growth here.”

  “You should rest.”

  Fleur just shook her head, and Lisette shrugged. One by one, the witches started leaving, until it was just Fleur in the grove, alone. She started dancing again, slowly and seductively. She didn’t look at Savion again, but she didn’t have to. His eyes were glued to her as she moved.

  Savion wondered if he dared hope that she would want to speak with him. The other witches were all gone. There was nothing stopping him from going to her now, but he didn’t want to interrupt her concentration.

  This new dance wasn’t as intimidating as the other one. It spoke of growth and life. Fleur danced around the clearing, touching everything – a tree here, a bush or stone there. He could almost see the forest glowing in appreciation of her blessings. Even the moss on a rock she touched seemed to shine with an unearthly light.

  Watching her like this was entrancing, and Savion felt like he had fallen straight into a fantasy. Everything was perfect.

  That is, everything was perfect, until Fleur started walking away, heading in the same direction the other witches had. His perfect fantasy came crashing down around his ears, and Savion started to panic. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet. He needed to speak with her, to watch the amusement in her eyes as he tried to woo her. He needed to be close enough to feel her br
eath and bask in the warmth of her body.

  Before common sense could catch up with him, Savion was moving. He crept from tree to tree, trying to be as quiet as possible. Fleur already knew he had been watching in the clearing, but he didn’t plan to let her know he was following.

  It was difficult to concentrate on not disturbing the branches, with how her hips swayed as she walked. Savion blinked rapidly, forcing himself to watch his own hands and feet, glancing up at Fleur only enough to ensure he was still close.

  At first, it had looked like she was headed home, but now she was following a slightly different path, one that led deeper into the forest. Savion wondered what she was up to. He hoped she didn’t try to do any more magic. He had seen how the spell drained her, and he wouldn’t want her all alone out here, without her coven, should something happen that required a magical defense.

  It was a good thing he was here, then. Fleur had stopped blessing the forest, but her movements were so fluid it looked like she was still dancing. As he watched, Savion saw something he didn’t expect. With every step, Fleur’s stride gained surety. It was like she was drawing energy from the forest itself. The plants she nourished with her own magic were giving back to her, replenishing her strength.

  Perhaps Savion was just seeing things, but he didn’t think so. Fleur moved like she belonged here, and he wondered for a moment if she had forest nymphs somewhere in her ancestry. Or maybe he was just a besotted fool.

  Fleur slipped between two trees, and vines hanging from upper branches moved slightly to accommodate her, folding closed like a curtain once she was through. Savion hurried forward. He knew that if he lost her, he likely wouldn’t find her again, not unless she wanted to be found.

  He crossed past the vines, but still saw no sign of her. Throwing caution to the wind, he leapt down from the tree, searching the ground for her tracks. Savion breathed in deeply, catching her scent. She wasn’t far. Her tracks led along the same path she’d been following. Savion hadn’t lost her yet.

 

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