by H G Lynch
“What is it?” Reid asked, gritting his teeth to keep focus, his head starting to pound from the effort of holding compulsion over two people.
“I’m not sure what the herbs are. I think one of them is Mugwort though. And there’s this.” Ricky held up a tiny square of fabric, about a centimetre on each side, between two fingers. It looked like carpeting, but there was a dark circle staining the middle of it. Blood. The smell of it, even dried and mixed with powdered herbs, struck him like a train. It was his blood. He must’ve bled onto the carpet at the old woman’s house when she slashed him with that stake. Using someone’s blood in a mixture like that was as good as a hex. It ensured the most effect on the person whose blood you were using. No wonder he could barely think straight.
“Burn it,” he grunted, but it was too late.
His compulsion on the female snapped, and she darted down the hall —toward where Ember was sleeping. Shit! Ricky was staring at him, unsure what to do. Reid could see the dilemma on his face; go burn the potion, or go protect Ember.
“Go!” Reid snarled, and Ricky took off down the hall, knowing what it was Reid wanted him to do.
But before Ricky had even reached the end of the hall, there was a scream. That pierced through the fog in Reid’s mind and he stumbled quickly down the hall, banging into the corner as he swung around it. He barged into Ember’s room, and froze.
Ricky was standing just inside the doorway, looking on with his eyes wide. Reid’s vision was starting to blur, but he could see the scene before him clearly enough.
Ember was crouched on the end of the bed, her eyes glinting and her fangs out, mouth open in a silent hiss. There was an orange fox on the floor at the foot of the bed, puffed up and snarling viciously at the intruder. But the female intruder, who was obviously the one who had screamed, didn’t look like she was going to be able to do much harm. Her hair was a corona of bright flame, her face contorted in pain. But she wasn’t screaming, wasn’t moving to put the fire out, wasn’t running for the hills. She was standing perfectly still while her hair burned.
Dimly, with a last flash of clarity, Reid realised Ember was compelling the female not to move, not to scream, and was using her fire at the same time. She’d never done that before, as far as he knew. He could see a fine sweat breaking out along Ember’s forehead, and gooseflesh was rising on her arms. He guessed it was hard work doing those two things at once, even for a strong Elemental.
Slowly, the flames died out, and the female was crying silently, tears of agony running down her face. Her hair was gone, singed away until all that was left was an ugly mess of burns on her scalp. It was gruesome. And Ember didn’t look proud of herself. She looked like she might cry herself, or throw up. Hiro stopped growling and his fur settled, but he didn’t Change back. He stayed as a fox.
Ember looked pleadingly at Ricky and Reid. “Can you heal her? I didn’t mean to…” Her mouth twisted and she choked.
The stench of burned flesh and hair was disgusting, and Reid almost wanted to gag. He tumbled to his knees, grabbing clumsily for the door and missing. He was sure he was going to pass out any moment now. “Reid!” Ember shrieked. He tried to look up, but all he saw was a pattern of dancing grey dots.
“Shit! Ember, burn this!” Ricky yelled. The sound of a flame sparking, then the scent of burning herbs.
For a second, Reid thought his head was clearing. He tried to sit up, but a sudden buzzing filled his ears, and the dancing dots washed black. He passed out.
When he came around, he had one hell of a headache. He groaned as he blinked, and then hissed as bright light stung his eyes.
“Oh, he’s awake!” a soft voice whispered.
The light pounding on his closed eyelids dimmed, and he opened them again cautiously. The first thing he saw was Ember, perched carefully on the edge of the bed. She was staring at him with relief clear in her bright eyes, her pyjama top twisted to show a line of skin, and a little too much cleavage.
Slowly sitting up, he looked around. Ricky and Sherry were standing by the end of the bed, and the bedside lamp was on the floor next to Ember’s feet. She’d obviously moved it to keep the light from blinding him. She leaned forward, put a hand lightly to his forehead.
“God, you gave me a heart attack,” she murmured, her eyes very wide and very blue in the dimness. The upward cast of the light made strange shadows across her face. He blinked, and she leaned back, concern lining her mouth.
He tried to speak, found his throat was rough and dry, swallowed, and tried again. “What happened?” Such a cliché, but he honestly couldn’t remember anything after Ember pleading for someone to heal the female intruder. Everything else was a little blurry, but he remembered it well enough.
“You passed out after Ember burned the potion sack. Nearly hit your head on the door handle.” Ricky said, crossing his arms.
Oh damn. That sucked. He’d only passed out twice in his life —make that three times now. The first time, he’d been repeatedly whacked on the head with extremely heavy objects; He’d pissed off the wrong Troll that day. And the second time, he’d drunk enough alcohol to drown a horse in.
“The female? The intruders?” he didn’t really care about her, beyond whether or not she’d escaped.
“I gave her some of my blood. The burns are healed, but her hair won’t grow back for a while. She’s asleep in the living room with the two guys —don’t worry, they’re all tied up. Hiro’s watching them. They aren’t going anywhere.” Ricky sighed, rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Ugh. We’re going to have to find out how to make those herbs we got today into protection wards. This was a stupid attempt at an attack, but it was gutsy. These people aren’t afraid to dive right in and get themselves killed. We got lucky this time. Next time might be different.” And with that depressing thought, Ricky turned and went out of the room, presumably going to check on the captives —possibly to ensure Hiro didn’t decide to snack on their spirits while they were unconscious. Nobody deserved that, not even idiot supernatural nuts.
Ember turned to him and smiled lightly. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
He nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just that the last time I passed out, I woke up on a park bench, half-naked, with some rather crude things painted on my chest in neon pink.” He flashed a grin, sliding off the bed. His headache was receding, thank God.
Ember snorted delicately, and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’re fine,” she muttered.
Sherry giggled, and Ember turned to her, linked arms with her in that way girls do for no apparent reason, and stalked out of the room with Sherry in tow. Reid took a few cautious steps, and when the world didn’t spin under him or rise up to smack him in the face, he followed after the girls.
Once again, the furniture in the living room was pushed to the walls, but instead of one chair-bound prisoner occupying the space by the fire, there were three. Hiro was perched on the arm of the sofa, in human form again, muttering something to himself. Ricky was examining the captives warily, lines marking the corners of his mouth. On top of the dining table, Ember was sitting cross-legged, looking like she might fall asleep again in a minute. Sherry lingered near Ember, clearly unhappy to have been woken at such an early hour. It was a strange gathering really, everyone up in the middle of the night, hovering around in pyjamas while looking on at three intruders tied to chairs.
“What are we going to do with them?” Ember asked, sliding off the table and stretching. She wandered over to the captives and tipped back the head of the female. The hairless girl’s head was as smooth as a marble, though she might’ve almost been pretty if she still had hair. Her skin was a dark olive colour, and she had a wide nose and sharp cheekbones. The males were both dark-haired, but the burly one had a buzz cut and a scar along the left side of his jaw, while the scrawnier one had hair that flopped limply into his eyes, and a shadow of stubble across his chin.
“We put them in separate rooms, and find out what they know. Odds are, th
ese guys are a little further up the food chain than the last guy. They might know something more.”
Reid insisted on interrogating the female first. The bitch was probably the leader of the little excursion group, seeing as she’d been the one clearly in charge of the potion bag; She’d be most likely to know something they didn’t.
Once the captives had been split up, one put in the study, another in the kitchen, Ember grabbed a hair bobble and tied her hair up, getting ready for the unpleasantness of interrogating the intruders. While the males were still unconscious, everyone gathered back in the living room where the female remained.
After expressing concerns about the males escaping, Sherry used a little ice magic to root the chairs to the floor —which had surprised everyone, including Sherry herself. She said she hadn’t meant to do it, but somehow, the chair legs had grown roots of ice that crawled up over the guys’ legs, locking them firmly in place.
That had reminded Ember that she hadn’t finished her conversation with Sherry from this morning, about her new power, and a pang of guilt gnawed at her; she’d completely forgotten about Sherry’s issues with her powers, and it seemed the green-eyed girl’s abilities were fast increasing. Mentally, she added ‘Help Sherry’ to her list of things to do tomorrow.
Then she was pulled out of her thoughts by a stream of gibberish pouring forth from the mouth of the female in the chair. Everyone’s attention immediately shifted, and whatever conversation they’d been having was instantly forgotten.
The woman had woken up and was glowering at them all, speaking rapidly in a language Ember didn’t know. The woman’s eyes shone with hatred and fear. Hiro abruptly snorted, and rolled his strange eyes. The woman turned her head to glare at him directly, and very quickly stopped speaking, her babble ending in a choke. Her mouth popped open, her eyes went wide, and she shrank back against her chair.
Then, she spat something accusing-sounding at Hiro, who sighed and muttered, “Oh my God, please shut up.” Apparently, he spoke whatever language the woman was using, and understood what she’d said.
The female looked surprisingly horrified by his offhand comment.
That was when Ember noticed the glint of metal at the woman’s throat. Looking closer, she saw it was a crucifix pendant on a gold chain.
Ah. Well, that explained her appalled expression in response to Hiro’s blasphemy. With a dark smile, Hiro uttered something in the language the woman had used, and Reid made a quiet sound like a stifled chuckle, covered by a cough.
Ember stared at him. “You understand what they’re saying? What language is that?”
Reid shrugged. “It’s Greek. I understand a little. Some of the texts in the meeting den are written in ancient Greek,” he said casually.
Ember was starting to wonder just how many languages he spoke. “So, what are they saying?” she asked, making a mental note to ask him about the languages thing later.
He grinned. “Well, she was praying to start with, in between cursing us all, and then Hiro said something demeaning about her mother, and in return she called him devil spawn, saying he has the mark of a monster —by which, I’m guessing she means his eyes,” Reid relayed the conversation in English with relish, clearly amused.
“He’s the devil spawn? She’s the one who came here to kidnap me and probably kill all of you!” Ember scoffed.
The woman, wide-eyed, shook her head vehemently, saying something quickly in Greek. Growing irritated, Ember shot a look at Reid expectantly.
He just shrugged. “All I caught was something about banana fudge sundaes, though I could be mistaken. Like I said, I only know a little Greek.”
Ember tried not to laugh, and Hiro sighed. “She said she didn’t come here to kill anyone. The potion bag was merely to disable the vampire responsible for Rachel’s death —who I’m guessing was the old woman? That was her name, right? Rachel? Doesn’t matter now anyway.” Casting one scornful look at the woman in the chair, the fox-boy suddenly vanished.
Ember gaped. “Where the hell did he go?” she spluttered. Nobody answered, and she sighed. “Well, we can’t very well interrogate someone we can’t even understand,” she stated tiredly, dropping miserably into an armchair.
Reid looked at the woman and tilted his head. “Oh, I think we can. Obviously, she won’t talk without compulsion, but if I compel her, she’ll be required to answer in her native tongue —don’t ask why. It’s something we vampires are trying to find a way around. But she obviously understands English, probably speaks it too…so maybe she thinks in English.”
He stalked forward and reached out a hand toward the woman, who started spitting insults, squirming away. Even in another language, you could tell they were insults by the venom and viciousness of her tone. She even tried to bite Reid’s fingers, and he pulled his hand back swiftly.
“Jesus! Bitch!” he hissed, then leaned down to speak, in a low voice, to the woman. “Now, I know you understand me, so either cooperate with me, or maybe I’ll take a bite out of you.”
She couldn’t know for sure because his back was to her, but Ember had the feeling he was showing his fangs, judging by the strangled noise the woman made, and the way she paled markedly under her olive tan. She opened her mouth, probably to scream, when Reid’s touched her forehead lightly, but her face suddenly went slack, and her mouth closed again.
The room was filled with a tense silence as seconds, and then minutes ticked by, while Reid probed inside the woman’s mind.
It felt like an hour before Reid finally groaned and stepped back, shaking his head.
“What is it? What does she know?” Ricky asked anxiously.
Reid slumped onto the sofa and leaned back, one hand at his head.
Ember frowned, concerned. He was looking a little pale, the purple smudges under his eyes oddly dark.
“I couldn’t get much. Half her thoughts are in Greek, and my mind reading is weak right now. I think I need an aspirin,” he grumbled, then sighed. “But I did find out what was up with the old lady’s reflection turning into something from Predator. She was an experiment. They gave her some combination of supernatural venoms and blood types —a basic whack-job steroid cocktail.” Reid made a disgusted noise.
Ember scrunched her nose. What kind of sick and twisted people fed supernatural venom to an old woman?
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about the mirror. Do we know anything about it yet?” Ricky glanced toward the study across the hall, and grimaced, as if he’d just realised leaving the mirror in the same room as a captive was a bad idea. Then he was looking at Ember; she’d emailed Cris with the day’s news when she and Reid had gotten back from Red’s, and asked him to dig up what he could about the mirror.
She’d felt bad for piling all the research on Cris. But Brandon and Perry were looking too — Reid had called them, after Ricky had argued with him that they needed all the help they could get. Reid had given in, but not gracefully.
Ember just didn’t think they’d come up with much. Maybe it was just that she disliked them, so it was easy for her think of them as useless. You could hardly blame her. After all, she was still sure they disapproved of Reid exposing vampire secrets to her —even if she had the right to know, and it would’ve been impossible not to tell her eventually. And not just because she was Reid’s girlfriend. She was technically one of the supernatural, and even without the vampires as close friends drawing the supernatural to her, someone would’ve found her. Owen had known what she was probably before she knew herself, and just hadn’t let on to his witch groupies —not that it mattered, since they worked it out on their own anyway. And if he’d known, others probably knew. So, really, it would’ve been inevitable that some supernatural creature would’ve come after her eventually, and she was just lucky she’d met Reid before it happened.
“Hello, Ember?” Ricky waved a hand in front of her face.
She blinked. “Huh? What did you say?”
Ricky rolled his eyes, and Sherry giggled. “Jeez, pay
attention, Emz.”
Ember threw a wry glance at her. “It’s the middle of the night. Give me a break,” she grumbled.
Sherry just snorted.
“I asked if we knew anything about the mirror yet?” Ricky sighed.
Ember shook her head. “I could go check the emails and see if Cris’ found anything yet, but I doubt it. And I’m sure it could wait until morning.” Really, she just wanted to go back to bed. This stress was bad enough during the day when she was wide-awake; when she was half-asleep, it just made a jumbled mess in her head.
“Reid, are you sure you can’t get anything else out of the woman?” Ricky sounded very much like he didn’t care either way. It seemed Ember wasn’t the only one desperately wanting to go get some more sleep.
“Yes, mh sure,” Reid mumbled. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back against the sofa cushions.
He looked exhausted, which, as far as she could remember, was a first. As a vampire, he didn’t really get worn out. But after the day they’d had, and what with having been drugged and then passing out, it was no wonder he was so tired.
“In that case, considering the other two probably don’t know anything else, if they even understand English, we should get rid of these guys.” Ricky ran a hand through his hair, clearly having no idea how they were going to do that. Like a good little soldier, though, he compelled them all to forget everything first.
And then Hiro showed back up. He popped out of nowhere, perching on the edge of the dining table.
“Where the hell did you go!” Ember threw her hands up.
Hiro shrugged. “For a snack,” he said lightly.
Ember opened her mouth to yell at him, then closed it again, too tired to waste her breath.
“Oh, whatever. Just help us get these guys out of here,” she muttered.
At that, Hiro grinned. “No problem,” he snapped his fingers, and the woman in the chair disappeared in a cloud of purple mist. Glancing across the hall, Ember saw a similar puff of smoke in the study.