by Eva Alton
“I told you we were hard to kill.” He shrugged. “He just poked my shoulder and I passed out.”
“Is it serious?” My voice trembled slightly. “Your shoulder.”
“It can be fixed.” He tilted his head and glanced at me warmly.
I rested my head on the pillow, relieved.
“What happened to Mark?” I asked, as the memories started to seep back into reality.
“Mark is alright.” His eyes flared. “You cushioned his fall nicely, so he came out of the whole thing mostly unharmed. He was dismissed yesterday.”
“It’s really strange that I survived, don’t you think? Did it have anything to do with you?”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.”
“I thought you might have performed that little vampire healing trick of yours.”
“Sorry...” He grinned apologetically. “I can heal open wounds―like a bite―but not broken bones. Not what is inside.”
I stared at the white square panels of the ceiling. “It would have been too good to be true, I suppose.”
“But if you are interested in exchanging blood, we can always arrange it.” His tone cheered up and he flashed his fangs at me so quickly that I might have imagined it.
“Hmm, thanks for now. I’m good.” I tried to prop myself up on the bed, because talking to Clarence from a horizontal position was starting to feel awkward. He fluffed the pillow for me and helped me sit up.
“There’s good news, too. I’ve been talking to Elizabeth. I told her everything that happened, and she has reconsidered her banishment order. She offered you a second chance.” He twisted his hands, expectant. “Would you accept it?”
“I’d need to think that through.”
“I’d really like you to.”
“What made her change her mind?”
“She’s intrigued about that erratic magic of yours.” He winked, then straightened his expression once again. “You know, she’s usually opposed to second chances. This was a first for her.”
“I can imagine.” I really could. “But there is something I need to figure out first.”
Something related to him.
Clarence flipped the pages of Julia’s diary, then opened it and put it on my lap, pointing at a passage.
“I think I found out what it is,” he whispered. “January 1st, 1962,” he started to read. His voice became rough, and his eyes sailed hesitantly from the paper to mine before he continued. “I wish I could leave this place...”
“Did you talk to Francesca?” I interrupted him, and he nodded. “So you didn’t know Julia wrote about that night? About whatever happened between the two of you.”
“Technically, there was nothing between us to write about,” he said, tilting his head.
I avoided his gaze. I could have recited that text by heart, as it had been haunting me for days. He kept reading aloud.
“I woke up naked under the sheets, and Clarence was next to me. He was sitting in my bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed and his back against the headboard, and as soon as I opened my eyes, he left the room without saying a word.
All I know is that the pillow was covered in blood...”
I flinched and lifted a hand to make him stop. “I already know what it says. What I’d like to know is your side of the story.”
“Lillian and Alonso overstepped the mark that night,” he said wearily. “I found out too late to avoid it, and I’ll always be sorry about that. When I entered her room, alerted by the screams, they had already left. She was unconscious, so I stayed until morning to make sure they didn’t come back.”
I studied him thoroughly: he seemed sincere.
“I guess I’ll have to believe you.” I shrugged weakly.
“Tell me, Alba,” he said with half-closed eyes, “did I ever do anything to make you doubt me?”
“No...” My voice wavered. “But everyone keeps warning me against you: Francesca, Jean-Pierre, even people I don’t even know. And then, there were those paintings of yours... I don’t know. I just... panicked.”
He exhaled as he closed the diary and tapped nervously on the ornate cover. “I don’t blame you.”
“You must agree that those paintings are the creepiest thing ever.”
“There’s darkness inside all of us. We just deal with it differently,” he said, drawing shapes with his fingers on the back of my hand.
“I can assure you I have no dark side. I’m just what you see,” I answered meekly. Then I remembered about the rage which had almost consumed me when facing Mark, a rage fueled by my innermost fears of never being enough and losing what I loved most. It had nearly led me to kill the father of my daughters.
He smiled and nodded. “As you say.”
I grunted, feeling exposed.
“Please, come back to The Cloister,” he whispered, leaning toward me and taking my hands in his, “I would miss you terribly if you didn’t. And there’s the night at the opera―I wouldn’t like to remain in debt for eternity.”
“It’d be nice to finally find out what that Isolde thing is about,” I conceded, returning his smile.
Steps approached from the hospital corridor, and Clarence stood up so fast that my eyes weren’t able to follow him. He brushed his lips against my forehead and rushed toward the open window.
“You already know what it’s about,” he said in a low voice. “It’s about two people who fell in love, although they shouldn’t have.”
“Happens too often,” I murmured, but he was already gone, and only the dancing curtains remained.
The nurse entered my room carrying painkillers and a thermometer.
“Feeling better tonight, aren’t you?” he chirped, handing me a glass of water to swallow the pills.
“Much better,” I said, closing my eyes and slowly drifting back into the world of dreams.
Epilogue
Alba
“Congratulations, Ms. Lumin.”
Clarence raised his champagne flute in the air and pretended to take a sip. I snatched it from his hands, sparing him the show, and drank it myself in one go.
Under the skylight, I listened to the summer rain play an out of tune symphony on the glass. I was back at The Cloister, relishing my first evening of freedom after reaching a prodigious agreement with Mark.
“I can’t believe Elizabeth managed to refute Mark’s accusations and get me such a great deal,” I said with appreciation.
The vampire queen had gone to all lengths to help me win the case, using her centuries’ worth of knowledge of the law and writing to several business partners to assist with cleaning my name and proving that Mark’s allegations and demands were a complete fabrication―and virtually ridiculous.
She had also managed to find a copious amount of evidence about Minnie, who had been with Mark for at least one year before he had filed for divorce, and spiced everything up with the mention of Mark’s violent tendencies.
Katie and Iris would remain with me from Monday to Friday and visit him during the weekends and some holidays. They would phone me every day when in his custody, so I could make sure everything was fine. And if he ever dared to do something stupid again, he might also lose those rights.
I was ecstatic and single again.
And I had my old job back.
It was evening, and my daughters, together with the rest of the clan, had disappeared into the music room to listen to Francesca play Bach at the piano. They had had dinner and a warm bath, thanks to our new electric boiler, hidden beneath a tombstone and sponsored by Madame Elizabeth Swamp’s enterprises.
Julia’s diary lay untouched on my antique mahogany bureau. I opened it carefully, grieving the irreparable water damage, which had made the content of some pages fade forever into oblivion. If it were my life described in there, I wouldn’t have minded for a few chapters to vanish forevermore. But it was Julia’s, and that made the loss more unfortunate.
I tapped on the bed, and Clarence sat next to m
e, expectant. Taking a finger to my lips, I asked him to remain silent as I read aloud:
“...I have been sourcing my energy from hatred and wrath, and I achieved small results, but never the big accomplishments I always dreamed of.
Life has a cruel sense of humor, though: now that I finally found out where I went wrong, I’m about to be engulfed by darkness.”
“She was an inspiring little creature,” Clarence said, and his eyes got lost in memories I’d never be a part of. “Just like you.”
“I was too drowsy to tell you at the hospital,” I said, feeling suddenly chilly and throwing a cardigan over my shoulders, “but I saw her. After I fell off that balcony.”
Clarence cocked his eyebrows, clearly stunned.
“That can’t be. She died. Francesca was with her that night.”
“She came to me as a cat. That black cat with purple eyes. My kids’ cat, actually.”
“You hit your head really hard,” he said, taking my arm and kissing the back of my hand.
“No. It wasn’t my imagination. I swear, she was real. Real like you and me here.”
“I am real indeed,” he said, with a mischievous smile, and set the diary safely on the nightstand. “And if you don’t believe it, I can prove it to you.”
The night creature leapt on my chest, making me fall backwards on the pillows, and I let out a giggle. A mysterious draft blew out all the candles, and we were finally blessed with a moment alone, under the shelter of nightfall and the light of the stars.
WHEN FRANCESCA BROUGHT Katie and Iris back to the room, Clarence was playing chess with himself and I was having a shower. The girls were so excited that their happiness was tangible.
“Francesca is going to teach us to play the piano like her,” Katie exclaimed, tugging at the blond vampire’s tulle sleeve. “Won’t you, Francesca?”
“If I have the time,” Francesca answered, with an almost inaudible chuckle.
I needed to ask her something urgently, so I wrapped a towel around my damp body and ran out of the shower. When I caught her, she was already strolling down the corridor.
“Francesca,” I said, “do you know where Julia is?”
She stopped in her tracks, stunned. “You saw her grave. I don’t understand your question.”
“She came to me like a black cat,” I whispered. “She assured me I was in danger, and said I must find her.”
Francesca looked uncomfortable. I could sense she knew more, but something was holding her back.
“When I went to Saint Emery, some women followed me again. They were carrying tall staffs with golden snakes coiled around them. The police thought I was making it up, but I promise you, I saw them. I think they were witches. But different ones. Not the ones I met in that store.”
“Coiled snakes, you say...” Francesca seemed absorbed in her own thoughts. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She looked at the flame of a candle, mesmerized. “I might know something,” she declared tersely.
“Will you tell me?”
“Maybe.”
I felt awkward hugging her, but I was so relieved that I couldn’t help it. I put my arms around her minute, cool body, marveling at the softness of her skin and hair.
“Thank you, Francesca,” I said, while she remained uncomfortably stiff under my touch.
“I hope you are ready to open Pandora’s Box,” she said, and her light steps faded into the dark, damp corridor.
Thank you for reading this book ♥
If you want to leave a review of this book, I will be immensely thankful! You can use this link.
I’d also like to invite you to read Julia’s story for free in the novella The Vampire’s Assistant. Get it here.
And, if you liked Stray Witch and want to find out what happens next, don’t miss Book 2 in the series, Witch’s Mirror! Turn the page to see the cover and find out more about the continuation of Alba and Clarence’s story.
WITCH’S MIRROR:
Alba is about to undertake a journey to Italy in search of her witch roots.
But her quest is bound to go awry and put at risk the lives of those she loves the most...
About the author
My name is Eva and I have always lived in a world of magic. Tales of fantasy and sorcery have haunted me since I was a child, which has caused much tripping on my own feet while walking around absorbed in yet another story. If I’m not talking to my characters in my head, you might find me tending to my beautiful children and hiding from the Mediterranean sun.
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Acknowledgments
My heartfelt thanks go to everyone who helped me throughout the process of writing and editing this book, and particularly to my beta readers, who came to know Alba and Clarence so well that they kept surprising me with their deep insight.
A really warm hug goes to Margot, for her honesty and the long conversations on the phone which left me sleepless and standing up at 3:00AM to write down the words the characters were whispering in my ear before I forgot them.
Thanks go also to Nikole, Toni and Ksenija, who took the time to give detailed feedback during the first phases of this story. And thanks to Anja and Nina for reading the first manuscript and encouraging me to go on.
Also to Elizabeth, for editing the final version and giving her valuable opinion.
And of course, thanks to you, who are reading this book, for helping me bring Alba and Clarence’s story to light.