Blood Spelled

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Blood Spelled Page 5

by Gayle Parness

I managed to walk, more of a hobble really, but I followed Freddy down the stairs and to the cell without another incident. The cell was what you might expect—three walls of metal bars, probably an iron and silver mix to cover all the bases. The floor and far wall were poured cement—cold and rough. A barred window, high on the wall and open to the elements, was allowing in snowflakes, the fat kind that usually didn’t stick. Unfortunately, tonight they’d managed to produce several puddles around my feet. A wooden bench was positioned in the center of the cell, so I wouldn’t be forced to sleep on a wet floor, thanks the gods, but the snow traveled into the chamber on an icy breeze, and I was only in a tee shirt.

  I moaned on the inside. It was going to be a very uncomfortable seven or eight hours. As promised, Freddy left me with the two buckets, then settled himself in a chair around twenty feet from the cell. He was wearing a warm coat and had a blanket folded by his chair.

  I was dying to ask him what kind of creature he was and how he could change into my father so convincingly, but first things first. “Fredrick, do you think I could borrow that blanket?”

  “You heard her. No blanket. I’ve gotta follow her orders.”

  “She wouldn’t know.”

  “She knows everything that’s going on around here. Go to sleep.”

  “Not much chance of that. Everything hurts.”

  “At least clean the scrape on your face. It was bleeding before.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a towel and some antiseptic cream. When he saw my curious expression, he said, “If you die from an infection she’ll blame me. If you die from anything, she’ll blame me.”

  “People die from exposure you know.” I drank some water first, then dipped the corner of the towel into the bucket and cleaned my cheek. It didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore, but I wiped a generous amount of cream on the shallow wound, just in case. I did a cursory check of the rest of me without revealing too much skin, but didn’t find any other bleeding wounds. Dying from an infection was a tough way to go.

  “Freddy—”

  “Frederick.”

  “Sorry. I just wanted to say thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now give me the towel and the cream.”

  I slid the tube of cream through the bars but there was no way I was gonna return the towel. “She didn’t say you couldn’t give me a towel.” It wasn’t one of those tiny hand towels either. It was a standard size towel, large enough to wrap around my back and shoulders and offer up a tiny bit of warmth.

  “Hey. If you don’t do what I say, I’m gonna pull out the hose. Then you’ll spend the night soaking wet.”

  “It won’t matter because I won’t make it through the night dry or wet. Shifters are warmer blooded than most supes. My body temp’s already dangerously low.” I held up the towel. “You said she wants me alive.”

  “Fine.” He walked over to the cabinet again, pulling out a few more towels and tossing them to me. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

  “Thank you, Frederick.” I pushed the bench to the side of the cell where it was as far from getting hit with snow as I could manage.

  He grunted and sat again. “I never did anything. Remember that.”

  “You did nothing to help me,” I repeated for his benefit.

  “True that.”

  I turned my back and rolled my eyes, crawling gingerly onto the hard bench without causing myself any more pain than was absolutely necessary. I used one towel as a pillow, mummy wrapped two others around my body and used the last one as a hood that also covered my shoulders. I was still cold, and my knee was throbbing badly, but I was finally able to get some much needed rest.

  Chapter Eight

  My next meeting with Mother went a little more smoothly. “Mother.” I curtsied as instructed and kept my eyes on the floor, the way Elle had described doing with the fae lords she’d been forced to serve. I wanted this creep to think me cooperative. My knee was still swollen, but I’d done my best to make my curtsy graceful, mostly motivated by the sublime odor of food in the air. I was ravenous.

  “You were most resourceful and convincing last night. Of course, Frederick is not a hard sell for a pretty girl, as they say in this century.”

  “He didn’t break any of your rules. He gave me a towel to clean my wounds.”

  “And several more, I hear. But as you’ve pointed out, he did not break my specific instructions, which is why he has not replaced you in the same cell.” She walked to the window, not worried in the least to be turning her back on an enemy. Joel was probably nearby. “I expect you will be more open to my discourse this morning?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “You may look at me.”

  Her eyes were a frozen azure, but her hair was thick and dark, except for the wide streaks of silver at her temples. She was attractive, but the dark and light coloring made me think of the villainess in the Dalmatian movie. I tried really hard not to laugh, but a stray snicker made its way through my gritted teeth.

  “Do you find my appearance humorous?” She didn’t appear angry, just curious.

  “No, Mother.”

  “I am pleased to hear it, because there is nothing lighthearted about the work I do in my home.” She waved her hand and indicated I should follow her.

  She led me to a dining room, most of the space taken up with a long table surrounded by at least twelve chairs. Places were set for eight people, with fancy china and cloth napkins. The flatware shined like real silver, although I suspected it was made of a less expensive—and less lethal—metal. Servants dressed in livery stood around the edges of the large room, keeping their expressions neutral just like they did in period movies. They all wore torcs like mine.

  Six other guests were seated at the table and I took them in one at a time. The two closest to me were familiar: Frederick and Bitchy Witch. Another male and female sat next to Frederick, and a mousy-looking teenager was at the end of the table, busily scrolling through info on her phone. I made a note to myself that this petite teen had access to a phone and that I should keep an eye out for a chance to borrow it.

  To her right…

  My father, Simon, jumped to his feet and ran to me. Remembering how I’d been kidnapped, I backed away, bumping into a servant who immediately apologized for his clumsiness, touching his torc in fear. But Simon wasn’t to be denied, he swept me up in his arms, kissing my forehead and whispering over and over, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is my fault. My fault.”

  “Do not be afraid, child. This is truly your father,” Mother said, weaving her way past Joel, who’d entered first to make sure the room was secure. Oh yeah, we torc wearers were a dangerous bunch all right.

  Simon had seen my limp. “You’re hurt.” He turned to Mother. “You said she wouldn’t be hurt! She’s so pale.” I’d never seen my father this anxious. He was always calm and relaxed, except when we’d parted on bad terms.

  “I need food.” I couldn’t think—couldn’t focus—until my belly was happy again.

  “Sit.” He urged me into a fancy dining room chair and turned toward Mother, pleading. “Please. She’s going to be ill.”

  The witch nodded at the servants and breakfast was served in the elegant way of times past. A serving platter was brought to each of us and we helped ourselves to as much or as little as we liked. Simon did most of the dishing out for me, but didn’t neglect his own plate. As soon as the first mouthful passed my lips, my body came alive with an intense need to replenish its energy. I ate as quickly as I could without appearing like some kind of vagrant, Simon serving seconds of each dish as soon as the food had disappeared from my plate. At the same time, he was feeding himself with a similar intensity, as if he was also a prisoner who didn’t know when the next meal would be arriving. He was wearing a torc like I was, so it seemed that was the case. I glanced at the rest of my dining companions.

  My two kidnappers were now wearing torcs. Apparently, Mother hadn’t been pleased with my treatment. The male and female across from me
also wore torcs, and like us, were tearing into their food voraciously. But the mousy girl with the bored expression was torcless. She still seemed occupied with whatever was happening on social media, and took only tiny bites of her food, probably because she didn’t have to worry about being strangled at any second.

  Simon placed a hand on my arm and squeezed it. “You’re looking better already.”

  “Were you kidnapped too?” I asked him.

  Mother had seated herself at the end of the table, opposite cell phone girl. Joel sat to her left and Freddy was to her right, trying very hard not to draw her attention. Joel had also been spared the indignity of wearing a torc. I’d pinned him out as being Mother’s personal security guard, so he must be an employee.

  She cleared her throat, having overheard my question to Simon. “We do not refer to your visit in that way. You are one of my students and are being trained to serve the Goddess, a gift all should cherish. In return for the training you receive while you are here, you will agree to repay my generosity in various ways, some more agreeable than others.” Everyone at the table had stopped eating and was staring at their plates. Everyone but phone girl, that is.

  I wanted to get more information, but Simon shook his head quickly and gave me a look I couldn’t misread. It was dangerous to ask too many questions. I kept my mouth shut. When the nutcase who called herself Mother went back to her meal, the male across from me tucked a couple of rolls into his pants. I did the same.

  “You are finished,” Mother announced.

  Everyone rose, except for mousy, the female prisoner across from me eyeing the food left on her plate with longing. “Yes, Mother,” They’d actually said it in unison, as if they were children in some Dickensian boarding school. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

  She scanned her prisoners with a pleased expression, her gaze finally alighting on me. I’d stood with the others but had remained quiet.. “Yes, Mother.” I said quickly, all the while trying to figure out how I might snatch up the two slices of bacon I left behind without being caught.

  “Excellent. Simon, show your daughter to the room that adjoins yours. Have her bathe and put on the gown she will find in the closet. Make sure the servants receive the clothing she arrived in and that they wash the items and return them.” She switched her attention back to me. “You will dress properly while you are here in this house. This is not a request.”

  “Yes, Mother.” This kowtowing was getting old fast. Calling the blood witch Mother was grating against my nerves, but the idea of a real bed in a warm room sure beat spending another night in an icy cold cell.

  “Work begins at ten as usual. Jacqueline will be assisting you, Simon. It is your responsibility to ensure that her work is satisfactory.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Simon replied softly.

  As soon as the blood witch with the badly chosen name left the dining room, and the two across from me scooted out, Bitchy and Freddy began talking. Both of them were tugging on their neckwear. “This is your fault. I told you we should have waited for Joel to help me.” Freddy said.

  “You’re the one who dropped her on her face!”

  “Exactly my point. And you slapped her so hard her lip was bleeding.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  “I saw blood.”

  “You’re hallucinating.”

  In unison they looked in my direction, then decided it would be a good idea to take a closer look at my swollen lip. I balled up my fists and scowled. They stopped in their tracks. “Keep the fuck away from me,” I snarled.

  “Whoa did you see that? Her eyes went orange for a sec.” Freddy seemed fascinated, but Bitchy Witch had taken a step back.

  “Told ya she was demon. That’s why Mother wants her. New orders from the Goddess.”

  Suddenly Mousy spoke, still obsessed with her phone. Her voice was richer and louder than I’d imagined. “I suggest you keep your mouths shut about Mother. She can hear your conversations if she chooses to and she won’t be happy. That was not information that should have been shared with the new girl or her father.”

  BW laughed. “Zora, you’re just a lab rat. You have no right to tell us what to do.”

  “You truly are an idiot, Crystal. I administer the doses. All the doses.” The witch and Freddy paled. They’d taken that statement as a major threat. The air thickened with tension between the three.

  Doses of what? This unexpected news made my gut clench. More drugs.

  “Don’t fuck with me, you two.” Zora hissed, all mousiness having left the petite female’s demeanor. “Have you checked on your patient this morning?” she snapped.

  “Yes, no change,” Crystal grumbled. Crystal was a typical witch name. Appropriate too, since she was a multi-faceted bitch.

  Zora turned to Fred, “You?”

  “The same. But Mother says it will happen soon.”

  “Simon?”

  “Yes, Zora. The patient’s condition has not changed.”

  “I’m also optimistic about our future results, especially, now that Jacqueline is here.” Although she’d mentioned my name, Zora didn’t glance my way, instead picking up her phone and going back to her game, or email, or whatever.

  Simon had nudged me away as soon as Zora had become involved with the other two. “Are you still in pain?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

  Suddenly my patience snapped. “What do you think, Simon? Yes, I’m in pain and I want to go home.” My louder tone managed to silence the other conversation. “I need answers. How is it you’re here? And how did that twerp impersonate you?”

  “I beg your pardon!” Freddy wasn’t happy. Too bad. Now that I was fed and feeling better I wanted to ring his neck. Him and the bitchy Crystal.

  My gaze shifted from one to the other. “You two are going away for a very long time. Your national Covens and Conclaves are going to execute you for kidnapping me.” I wasn’t about to go into a whole tirade about who my allies were or what said allies might do to Freddy and Crystal when they got their claws and fangs on them. My mouth turned up at the corners as I imagined Sash ripping out Freddy’s heart while Garrett took care of Mother, probably draining her dry when he finished. A most satisfying vision if I do say so myself.

  They were staring at me strangely again. My eyes did feel particularly itchy, so they might have gone orangey while I was fantasizing about their deaths. Guess my small amount of demon magic had decided it was time to remind everyone I wasn’t completely without power. I still had my hidden core magic. And it was good they thought of me as dangerous. The little witches and sorcerers might keep their distance and I’d have time to plan an escape. ’Cause I sure as heck wasn’t going to wait around to be rescued if there was something I could do to get out of here.

  Crystal laughed at me. “Mother already doesn’t like your attitude. Keep this up and you’ll be the next patient.”

  “Shut up!” Freddy barked out between gritted teeth. “You talk too much.”

  “Crystal. Your mouth is larger than your brain. That’s a dangerous state.” Zora’s threat silenced Crystal a lot faster than anything Freddy said.

  “Are you one of the…um…organizers?” I asked Zora.

  “I’ll be with you in five minutes.” She hadn’t lifted her head.

  Crystal whispered her words, but they were still too loud to go unheard. “She thinks she’s some big deal, but she’s not all that powerful. I’d do a better job than Zora if Mother would just give me the chance.” Freddy elbowed Crystal and she shoved him hard enough to make him stumble. What a pair of dopes.

  “She’s one of them,” Simon said quietly, attempting to shuffle me out of the line of fire. His expression told me that now wasn’t the time to discuss it, so I put my questions on hold.

  I glanced at the petite female who’d pulled out her notebook computer and was typing furiously. It appeared that not everything in this house was low tech. That meant they probably had other computers and maybe another phone I could g
et my hands on. I sure didn’t need magic to work those.

  Unfortunately, Freddy followed us. “Zora reports back to Mother, who reports to the Crone. We never see the Crone.” He had this annoying whine that seemed to come out when he wanted attention.

  “Three primary witches.” This was starting to make some sense. They’d formed their own coven.

  “Their magic is a gift from The Goddess.” Crystal had this spacey look on her face when she’d spoken.

  “Are you speaking of the benevolent goddess the hedge witches pay homage to? That goddess?”

  Freddy grabbed Crystal’s collar and yanked her toward the stairs. “It’s almost nine. We should check on them again before we begin work.”

  “Get your hands off me!” She broke away. “I checked her once already. I don’t need you telling me what to do!”

  Zora’s voice was so quiet I barely heard her, but her tone was as full of authority as Mother’s. “You should listen to your partner, as he is correct. The patients must be attended to every two hours. You are walking a fine line, Crystal, and things can get hard in a hurry if you don’t snap into shape. You were the one assigned the mission to acquire the demon and bring her to Mother unharmed—yet, she is limping badly and her face has sustained lacerations. I intend to examine her before she bathes. If I find further abuse has occurred, you may find yourself strapped to a gurney.”

  Crystal’s face had lost its color. “I have always been loyal to the Goddess, to Mother, and to—”

  “Loyalty without competence is useless. Leave. Your next mistake will be your last.”

  Freddy led a pale-faced Crystal from the room. When the door closed behind them, I looked at Not So Mousy with a new perspective. I wouldn’t make the same mistake with this one I’d made with the other. “How do I address you?”

  “I’m Zora.” She extended her hand and I shook it. Her grip was firm and her hand was smooth and dry. “Have you finished eating?”

  I glanced longingly at the bacon. “Yes.”

  She smiled, but it wasn’t a warm one. “Take it. Your metabolism is quick. I’ll recommend to the cook that you receive four small meals per day.”

 

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