by Lana Melyan
THE SACRIFICE
THE WEIGHT OF MAGIC BOOK 7
Lana Melyan
Copyright © 2019 by Lana Melyan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, events, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Lana Melyan
Cover Design by Cover Reveal Designs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Also by Lana Melyan
1
After less than a two-hour drive, the road sign welcomed us to Lynchburg.
It was nearly ten p.m., and we were planning to go to the cemetery to get the first piece of the map around midnight, so we had time to eat and rest.
First, we drove to a diner. The place was warm and quiet. Most of the tables were vacant. As soon as we picked one, I sank into the red leather couch and pushed myself to the window.
“How are you doing?” Nate dropped down next to me.
“I’m fine, really. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you.” I took his hand and held it with both of mine in my lap. I was doing that a lot lately, like I was afraid if I let go of him, I would lose him, too.
The waitress came and we ordered. While waiting, I looked out the window. In the yellow light of the post lamp, I saw snowflakes drifting down on the pavement.
“Pretty.”
“Yeah, it is,” said Connie, following my gaze. “We need to change, though. Put some warm clothes on.”
“Let’s hope the ground isn’t too frozen, or digging might take a while,” said Logan.
“The capsule isn’t in the casket,” I said. “So I don’t think we’ll have to dig the whole the way down.”
“Where are the other two capsules?” asked Connie.
“In two other graves in Pittsburgh. Allegheny Cemetery,” Nate replied.
“You’re joking.” Connie’s eyes widened. “That place is huge. How’re we gonna find them there?”
“That’s why you’re lucky you have me.”
“Say we got the map. What then?” asked Logan. “I mean, there’s no point to go to the tomb yet. The sword isn’t ready.”
“Let’s get the map first. Then we’ll think about where to get four more Order witches to improve the sword. If they don’t find us before that, we’ll go looking for them ourselves.”
“Looking where?” I asked. “Do they have headquarters or something?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. Once it was Kenneth’s mansion, but there’s not much left from that place. Then they had one in Chicago, but it was long ago, and the last time we checked, it was empty.”
The waitress came with our order, and we changed the subject.
There was a motel nearby, and after dinner, we got ourselves two rooms, changed, and headed to the cemetery.
We drove to the Old City Cemetery down the narrow 4th Street, and when we reached the gate, Nate stopped the car on the small shoulder. I got out and followed him and Logan to the trunk. Connie pushed her door open, turned on her seat, and dangled her feet out of the Jeep.
“It’s dark out there,” she said, staring at the cemetery.
Nate and Logan grabbed the shovels, and I pulled out of the trunk two flashlight lamps.
“Here,” I said, handing one to Connie.
“What if someone sees us?”
“Poor someone,” I smirked. “Imagine that, to meet three witches and a vampire with shovels in a dark cemetery.”
“Right,” chuckled Connie.
“Come on.” Logan took her hand.
She grabbed a folded blanket from the seat and jumped out of the car.
We passed through the stone passage next to the gate and walked between the trees, away from the main road. It wasn’t snowing anymore, but the air was cold. I forgot to take gloves and kept changing the lamp from hand to hand, pushing the free one into my pocket to warm it up.
“It has to be deeper, on the left side, but I haven’t been here for a long while.” Nate scanned the area. “It might take some time to find it.”
We turned on the flashlights and peered at the names on the headstones as we moved forward.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Nate stopped and pointed his finger to the left. “It’s there.” He quickly moved in the direction, and the three of us followed him.
We stopped in front of a three-foot-tall old headstone with a wide base. Worn by rains and snow, the engraving on the gray granite said, Henry Callahan. 1756-1813.
“Where do you think we should start?” asked Logan, looking up and down the grave.
“It’s not just a piece of parchment.” Nate knelt and pressed his palms to the ground. “It has magic. Callahan used it to hide its content, and we should be able to feel the energy.”
Connie and I knelt too. Me next to the headstone and Connie a foot away from me, across from Nate. We closed our eyes and pressed our hands to the earth along the grave.
“Yeah, I can feel it.” I opened my eyes. “I can feel something in there. It hums.”
Connie glanced at me, then at Nate, and shook her head.
“I don’t feel it either,” said Nate, getting up. “Must be Callahan thing.”
“Or maybe I’m just on the right spot.” I changed places with Connie, and we pressed our hands to the ground again. “Nothing here.”
“Yep, it’s the spot,” said Connie. “Now I can feel it too.”
I grabbed the lamp and went behind the headstone.
“Then it’s probably under the stone itself,” said Nate.
“Yeah, I think it is,” I said, staring at the wide base of the headstone.
“Do you see something?” Nate drew closer and looked down, following my gaze.
“It’s the family crest. Like the one on dad’s safe.”
Nate dropped to his knees again and touched the earth. “I don’t think we need to move the headstone if we dig from this side.”
Logan grabbed the shovel and drove it into the ground.
“As I said, it’s frozen. But probably not too deep.”
He drove the shovel again, but I stopped him.
“We can help with that. It’s just like boiling water in a glass.” I pressed my hands to the cold surface. “We can warm it up.”
Nate and Connie joined me, and after a moment steam rose into the air from under our palms. When we got up, Logan tried again, and this time the shovel slid deep into the soil at once.
While Nate and Logan got to work, Connie laid the blanket under a nearby tree, and we sat down. Then she pulled out of her bag a thermos, which she had filled with coffee in the diner, and a few paper cups.
“How’s Nate?” she asked. “He seems . . .” She paused, then filled a cup for me and handed it over. “Forget it. He’s probably just worried about you.”
“Yeah. That too. But I know what you mean.” I heaved a breath. “He feels responsible for everything that happened.”
“No way. He can’t blame himself for everything
that goes wrong.”
“I keep telling him that. But he’s still . . . he barely sleeps. Maybe this time I’m the one who has to be stronger. If I get better, he’ll get better too. We have things to do, we can’t let our feelings get in the way.”
“Nicky, those other two graves in Pittsburgh, whose are they?” asked Connie. “Are they also Callahan?”
“Only one. The second one is Nate’s mother.”
“Oh my God.” She turned her astonished gaze on me. “He has to dig up his mother’s coffin? That’s . . . holy crap.”
Logan threw a glance at us.
“I don’t think we’re sitting far enough away for this conversation,” I sighed.
“Logan’s hearing is too good. Far enough would be back in the car. You think Nate can hear us too?”
“Nope.” Nate shook his head.
“So, as I was saying.” Connie cleared her throat. “I like road trips. Haven’t done one for a while.”
Logan chortled.
Nate and Logan kept digging, and when the pit was nearly three feet deep, we heard a clank. Connie and I rushed toward them and stared down.
“This must be it.” Nate tapped the tip of the shovel against the bottom, and we heard another clank. He tossed the shovel aside, squatted, and raked the rest of the soil with his hands. After a moment he pulled out a rectangular, book-size metal box. He brushed the dirt from it and handed the box to me.
There was no lock on it, but when I tried to take off the lid, it didn’t budge.
“Maybe it’s just rusty?” suggested Connie.
Logan and Nate got out of the pit, and when I gave Nate the box, he tried to open it, then examined it and shook his head.
“It’s not that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a jackknife. “It’s locked with Callahan blood.” He opened the knife and with a sigh handed it to me. “Don’t cut too deep. A few drops would be enough.”
I made a shallow cut on my palm, and as the blood surfaced, Nate returned me the box, and I held my palm above the lid. When I tried to remove it, it came off at once, and we all stared at the metal capsule with a golden carving on its bottom. Nate reached for my hand and held his palm over the cut.
“Let’s see.” I put the box down, picked up the capsule, and unscrewed the top. Holding it above Nate’s hand, I tipped it over. The piece of parchment fell into his palm.
Connie held the lamp next to it, and when Nate unrolled the scroll, she gasped.
“Oh my God, there’s nothing there. Does it mean it’s fake?”
“Calm down.” I smiled. We forgot to warn her and Logan that the parchments were blank. “It’s not fake. It’s just that we can’t see the map yet.”
“Why? What do you mean, yet?”
“We won’t see anything until we put all four pieces together.”
“Really?” Her eyes darted from me to Nate, and when Nate nodded, she released a disappointed, “Hm.”
Nate grabbed the shovel again.
“Now, let’s fill this hole and get the hell out of here.”
2
We returned to the motel at nearly three a.m. It had been a long day, I was pretty tired and cold, and all I wanted was to get into bed.
“You need a hot shower first,” said Nate, feeling my icy hands.
After the shower, when both of us were finally in bed, I leaned over him and ran my hand through his still-wet hair.
“I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Yeah.” Nate pulled himself up and leaned against the headboard. “Because I’m doing such a good job.”
“You are.” I sat straight, facing him.
“The people closest to us are dead.” He was getting angry. I didn’t try to calm him. Those thoughts were swirling in his head all the time, and I wanted him to let his pain out. “Alan was the only person like family for me. The mansion was the place where I knew someone waited for me, someone I could come back to. I knew him his whole life. And Bree . . .” Clenching his teeth, he shook his head. “You have no one, and it’s all my fault.”
I can’t break now. I swallowed. It’s my turn to be strong.
“I have you. You’re doing everything you can. You can’t save everyone. I know how hard it must be for you. Just like me, you lost everyone. But I need you, and I need you safe and strong.” I took both of his hands in mine. “Nate, we’re almost there, and we’ll destroy them. We’ll make them pay for everything.”
He gazed at me. “Nicky, I’ll die before I let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”
“I know. Nate, I know you love me. And I know you’re afraid you might lose me.”
“It scares the hell out of me,” he whispered, squeezing my hands.
“It shouldn’t. Because I’m as powerful as you, and I can take care of myself.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
He pulled me in, and my hands slid up his chest.
“You’re all I got, and you’re all I need.” He lay me down on my back and covered with kisses.
We woke up late the next morning. Our bags packed and ready to take off, we first stopped by the same diner we’d been to the night before to have brunch.
We were all pretty hungry. Luckily, this diner had more than waffles and muffins to offer, and we ordered four burgers with French fries.
“I slept like a log.” Connie yawned behind her hand.
“Logs don’t snore,” said Logan, squeezing ketchup over his fries.
Nate and I both chuckled.
“Hey.” Connie rolled her eyes at Logan. “If you don’t like your log, you can—”
Logan sent a fry into her mouth. “I love my log, and I don’t know how I managed to sleep without it my whole life.”
Connie beamed at him. She chewed the fry, then glanced at Nate. "How long will it take to get to Pittsburgh?”
“Six hours, give or take.”
“I’ve never been to Pittsburgh.” She took a sip from her grapefruit juice.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to give you a tour. We can’t stay in one place for too long. We’ll just grab what we’re there for and leave.”
“Where will we go?” I realized we had never talked about it before.
“To New Orleans.” Nate put down his burger. “Whatever we do next, we might need Brian’s and Sam’s help, so we better stay close to each other. The town is full of tourists. The Order doesn’t know about you, and it should be easy to blend in. Of course, we will have to take precautions, but we’ll think about them later.”
“What about Kate?” asked Connie.
“We’ll call her if it’s necessary.”
We hit the road half an hour later. As soon as we got out of the town, Connie dropped her head into Logan’s lap and fell asleep. I, however, kept staring at the road, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t block the thoughts about Gran.
Neither her nor my parents ever had a day off from this mission, from the constant worry, from the fear of losing someone they loved. And I had been so happy knowing she was about to do something for herself for a change, something that would take her mind away from the heavy thoughts.
For Gran, it was like taking a vacation after years and years of working, and when she finally convinced herself to get on the plane, it crashed as soon as it got up in the air.
Nate’s warm hand slid into mine. When he squeezed it, pulling me out of my thoughts, I realized tears were rolling down my face.
Great. You call that being strong?
“Sorry.” I wiped my face. “I’m fine, really, I just spaced out for a moment.” I hurried to reassure Nate the moment I saw the anguish in his eyes.
“You don’t have to hide your feelings. It’ll take time to—”
“No.” I cut him off. “I’m fine. It was just a moment of . . . forget about it, okay?”
Logan’s deep sigh came from the back seat.
A few hours later, we stopped at a gas station.
While Nate and Logan filled the tank, Connie and I went inside. We browsed the shelves, and I found myself a pair of gloves.
“This time we’ll have to dig two graves, so we should get two more shovels for me and Connie,” I said when Nate and Logan joined us.
“Not two. My mother’s is . . . . we have a family crypt. So, no, there’s no need for more shovels.”
“Then maybe we could—”
“Relax.” Connie tapped me on the back. “They have superpowers. They can manage.”
“Nate doesn’t have su—” I frowned at him. “Do you?”
“I don’t have superpowers.” Nate narrowed his eyes at Connie in annoyance. “I’m just a bit stronger than mortals.”
“See?” Connie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head as she looked at me. “Now that, thanks to me, you got to know him better,” she headed to the counter, “who wants coffee?”
3
Pittsburgh was covered in snow, and I wished I could take a power nap before spending the whole night at a cold cemetery.
“Guys, we’re tired. Maybe we should stay inside and order Chinese,” I offered as we arrived at the motel.
“Sure,” said Nate. “It was a long ride. We could all use some rest.”
Connie gave a thumbs up. “I’ll do the ordering,” she said before following Logan into their room.
“I’ll take a quick shower.” Nate dropped the bag with some of the essentials and the sword next to the nightstand and headed to the bathroom.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. There was a message from Sam.
How are you holding on? I’m so worried about you.
With a deep sigh, I sank on the bed and typed the reply.
Don’t be. I’m doing okay. We’ve just arrived at Pittsburgh.