Of the Blood

by Cameo Renae

  In the center of the circle, facing the green candle, she set a book down on the ground, then spread the black material over the top. “This will be my altar,” she said.

  On top of the altar, she placed the bowl she filled with water. To the side of the bowl, she set a sharp knife, a small empty bowl, a piece of parchment, a white feather quill, and a white tapered candle. Before she started, she made it clear that everyone needed to remain silent—her gaze narrowing on Brone. Brone growled at the witch, but she ignored him and carried on.

  Melaina motioned to me. “Calla, I want you inside the circle with me.”

  “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I remained in place, not sure I was the best person for this. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

  She gave an assuring smile that made her face appear softer. “You won’t. All I need you to do is focus on Nicolae.”

  I nodded. “I can do that.”

  Focusing on Nicolae was simple. He hadn’t left my mind since I was told he existed and that my family was being hunted because of him. I needed to find him. I needed answers. And then I wanted him dead.

  Chapter Eight

  Melaina led me inside the circle to my spot next to the altar. I sat still and silent while she moved around the outer perimeter, lighting each of the candles. Returning to the center, Melaina raised her arms in the air and called upon the energies of each element, shifting to each direction as she did.

  She was cleansing the circle, keeping evil spirits out, while evoking each of the elements, guardians, and deities to aid her in her cause. I concentrated on her voice, let her words sink down inside of me.

  As she completed the circle, I witnessed a bluish-white light emanating from her fingertips, like sparks of electricity. There was a tingling energy buzzing in the air. The stones around the circle began glowing, finishing the ritual, enclosing us in.

  Melaina spoke again, her words directed to her goddess, seeking for guidance. When she finished, she sat next to me and grabbed hold of my hand. With her empty hand, she picked up the blade and slipped the sharp tip across my palm, creating a narrow incision. I flinched but refused to make a noise, per her orders. Melaina then guided my hand, twisting it over the bowl and collecting the blood.

  When the blood stopped dripping, she let go. Looking at my palm, I saw the incision was almost completely healed. Melaina took the feather quill, dipped the tip into the bowl of blood, and on the piece of parchment wrote out the name Nicolae Corvus. It was strange to see his name. To think this man, who I thought was dead since before I was born, could be alive and we were now in search of him.

  When she was finished, she folded the parchment in half, and half again, while speaking another prayer. A prayer invoking the deities to help her locate the individual whose name she’d written in blood. Then she held a corner of the folded parchment over the flame.

  As it burned, the surrounding air thickened. Melaina leaned forward, gazing into the bowl of water, and I found myself leaning closer.

  Inside the bowl, images flickered. A face, fuzzy at first, gradually became clearer. I wanted to cry out, to say something, but I remained silent and still as Melaina had warned.

  The image was of my father. He was alive, curled on the ground in a fetal position, darkness enveloping him. There was nothing I could see around him but grass, twigs, and leaves. His head suddenly popped up, face dirty, hair matted. His golden eyes, just like mine, held an expression I’d never seen on my father before. It was the expression of fear.

  His head jerked to the left, then to the right. His body stilled before he bound up and ran away. He was running for his life.

  I tensed and felt Melaina squeeze my hand.

  The image of my father dissipated, and another flickered to life. It was the face of a girl who looked around my age, with golden hair. But her eyes. Her eyes were different colors. One was emerald and the other sapphire. I’d never seen this girl before. I was sure of it. But as I tried to examine her features, her image faded and another emerged.

  Familiar golden irises with flecks of auburn came into view. Eyes so identical to my father’s . . . to my own.

  Was this Nicolae?

  He looked young. Maybe in his early thirties, with shoulder-length hair. He was handsome, though. I could see the resemblance between him and my father.

  The man was on his knees, on a well-maintained grassy area hemmed in by large beautiful trees laden with lavender blossoms. He leaned forward, scooping water into cupped hands, drawing it to his lips and drinking.

  He strode back toward a tent, not far away, where a campfire was burning. As he reached his encampment, he waved his hand in the air and it all vanished. Instantly. It was as if he wasn’t there.

  Melaina’s bowl of water became black, with nothing further to reveal. I remained quiet as she whispered another prayer, drawing the energy of the elements back into her, offering thanks to those who had aided her to complete the ritual.

  When she was done, we rose and kicked the stones away from the circle. I presumed it was so that no one would realize a witch performed a séance. Kylan and the others had moved out of sight, but I could hear their hushed voices.

  “Did you see?” Melaina asked, discarding the water from the dish and putting it back into her sack, along with the candles and the blade.

  I’d been waiting for her to give me a signal that it was okay to speak.

  “Yes,” I responded softly. “The first man was my father.” My eyes heated with tears again. “He’s alive, and I’ve never seen him so frightened.” My words broke out in a sob.

  “Hey,” Melaina said, taking a step toward me. “I’m sure your father can handle himself. Right now, the attention has shifted toward you. They are sending warriors here because Roehl knows you’re getting support from Trystan, and his over-inflated ego won’t allow him to lose.” I nodded, hoping she was correct. “Do you know who the girl with the colorful eyes was?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “That was the first time I’ve ever seen her.”

  “To appear like she did, she has to be closely related to you.”

  “I honestly don’t know her. I’ve never seen her before. My parents had no siblings, so I don’t have any relatives. But who knows? It seems my life isn’t as simple as I expected.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t know Nicolae was alive until a few days ago. Maybe he had other relationships.”

  I nodded, struggling to steady my nerves and settle my emotions. “That third face, it was Nicolae.” I spoke softly. I knew it was him. Everything inside me confirmed it.

  “I presume so.” She flung her satchel over her shoulder. “He’s a handsome witch.”

  “A witch?” I choked, and she nodded. “I thought only females were witches.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Male or female, they are both referred to as witches. It’s obvious Nicolae is powerful and well-experienced,” she added. “To make an entire camp disappear with a flick of his hand shows maturity—years of training.” Her eyes narrowed on mine. “He’s clearly the link to your power.”

  “But I don’t have any power.”

  Her brows crumpled. “You’ve never had strange things happen that you can’t explain?”

  I thought about it. “Besides Trystan biting me, making me change into a vampire? No.”

  “Well, I felt it. Maybe your magic has been dormant and for some reason will be released at a specific time.” She shrugged. “You definitely have something, especially if your grandfather is that powerful.”

  “You must be just as capable,” I uttered. “You glamoured this cave, like he did his camp.”

  “Not with such ease. Even as powerful as I am, I cannot cast a glamour so quickly. Not with a flip of my wrist.”

  Footsteps crunched in our area. “Did it work? Did you see anything?” Kylan asked, moving around the corner. He’d probably overheard us with his keen vampire hearing, but he acted as if he didn’t know anything.

  “My
father is still alive. He’s running, but they’re after him.” I replied. “I think he might be somewhere in Whisper Woods.”

  Melaina responded. “If his ship ran aground near Hale, he is surely in Whisper Woods. But he could be anywhere, maybe even heading in the opposite direction.”

  “We have to find him,” I pleaded, shifting to Kylan. “He’s the only family I have left. He’s out there alone, and I’ve never seen him so frightened.”

  Kylan paused, his worried brow turning back to Brone and Feng, who were standing behind him.

  “It’s your call,” Andrés said.

  Kylan turned to Melaina. “Did you see a landmark?”

  She shook her head. “It was too dark. The only thing we could see were trees. He’s definitely in the woods.”

  I wanted, more than anything, to leave and look for him, but without a landmark or something we could use to identify his location, it would be like searching for a shadow in the pitch black.

  “If he’s smart,” Brone spoke, “he’d head north. There are safe places inside the town of Havendale. The Lord of Baelfast is generous when it comes to his people. It possesses many places to hide or even disappear if you wanted to.”

  “I also agree we should head north,” Kylan said. “Trystan will be in Baelfast, and we’ll have a better chance of locating your father with his help. To survive, we must stay ahead of the enemy.”

  As much as I wanted to go looking for my father, I knew the likelihoods of finding him was virtually impossible, given how incredibly large the Whisper Woods were. Hopefully, he could stay hidden. I had to believe that. Maybe he could make it to Baelfast. Or even head in the opposite direction toward Aquaris, or even to Northfall. My father had many friends and business acquaintances in those territories. And as much as I didn’t want to leave him, Kylan was right. We needed to move north, immediately. I needed to get out of these woods. They were claustrophobic.

  “We also saw Nicolae,” I added.

  Kylan quickly glanced to Melaina, and she nodded in confirmation.

  “Do you have a location on him?”

  “He could be anywhere,” Melaina sighed, shaking her head. “But one thing vexes me. You said he was a Dhampyr, right?”

  “That’s what the decree said,” Kylan answered. “Why?”

  Her eyes went distant, arms crossed over her breast. “I’m not entirely sure that’s correct.”

  “Explain,” Kylan said. All the cadre’s eyes were pinned on her.

  “He has powerful magic. He glamoured his entire camp with a wave of his hand, which tells me he’s not simply a vampire, but something else. Something magical. And he knows how to wield it.”

  “Witch?” Brone asked.

  “Likely,” she replied. “But there could be one more explanation.”

  “What?” Kylan and I asked at the same time.

  “He’s a pureblood and magic is his gift.”

  “Pureblood? It can’t be,” Andrés exclaimed from behind us while Melaina shrugged. “How?”

  “When two purebloods come together—” Brone began.

  Andrés cut him off. “I know how they’re conceived,” he growled, “but no one has ever heard of Nicolae Corvus. Every pureblooded vampire ever born is recorded in the royal registry. Nicolae’s name is not there.”

  “How would you know?” Melaina challenged.

  “Because it was one of the tasks Trystan assigned to me before we left Carpathia to travel here,” Andrés stated.

  My head became a whirlwind. “Does Trystan think Nicolae is a pureblood?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. But he likes to be thorough.”

  “Well, we can’t confirm anything about Nicolae until we find him,” Melaina cut in. “And that’ll be the tricky part. Scrying can only show us fragments of the puzzle. With his magic, Nicolae can disappear, and it shows he’s incredibly experienced at. It’s possibly the reason no one knows or has any record of him.”

  “I don’t know if it’ll help, but I did recognize something,” I replied. All eyes moved to me. “Nicolae was surrounded by a grove of jacaranda trees in rich bloom. He had a small encampment, set up on a clearing of grass that was groomed. There was a water source nearby, possibly a river or lake.”

  “Jacaranda trees flourish in the north,” Feng noted. “On Talbrinth, most groves are in Northfall, but they are also on private land.”

  “I spent my childhood in Northfall,” Brone spoke. “My parents would take me to the Enchanted Lake which was surrounded by beautiful jacaranda trees. My father would set up camp on a grassy area while he hunted. The lake there is filled with fish, and the wood beyond has lots of wild game. It’s the perfect place for someone to hide out and survive.”

  “Do you know how to get to this area?” Kylan asked Brone.

  “Yes, but the land is owned by the Kingdom of Northfall and run by the mortal, Lord Grayson. Only those of noble blood or those granted special permission can set foot there. Trespassers are severely punished.”

  “How did your family acquire those kinds of privileges?” Melaina puffed, her brow rising.

  Giving her a narrowed, sidelong glance, Brone replied, “My father was commander of the King of Northfall’s guard.”

  Melaina shrugged, but her expression revealed she was impressed. “Well if it’s off-limits and he’s using an invisibility spell, my assumption is he’s there.”

  Feng took a few strides forward with a question in his eyes. “What I don’t understand is why he would come out of hiding, after all this time, to execute a prince? Everyone knows that killing a royal means a direct execution, especially when that royal comes from the Kingdom of Morbeth—the one kingdom who takes pleasure in war and executions. I would like to know what his motivation was?”

  Andrés said, “I’ve heard rumors the King of Morbeth is dying. But no one can confirm if it’s accurate or not because their kingdom is so heavily guarded.”

  “Yes, especially behind their insufferable Red Wall,” Brone muttered, shaking his head. “One has to wonder how news can travel past such a monstrosity.”

  “The same way it gets past you.” Andreas laughed, whacking a palm on Brone’s broad back. “It’s highly unlikely . . . but possible.”

  Brone growled at him, exposing lengthened incisors. But Kylan chuckled again, affixing a black leather vambrace to his forearm. “Morbeth’s walls were erected to keep their people in and all others out.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Melaina declared. “Morbeth terrifies me. There is immense dark magic lingering behind that wicked Red Wall. And I, for one, will never set foot in that territory.”

  “What if you were awarded ample gold skrag to last a lifetime?” Brone questioned.

  Melaina shrugged, her face an expression of boredom. “Maybe.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kylan and Brone left the cave early to scout the surrounding area and make sure it was safe for us to leave. As soon as they returned and announced all clear, we departed the cave in single file, hastily retreating into the dark Whisper Woods. Melaina and I were instructed to remain in the middle of the group on our course through the tangle of dense woods.

  My eyes adapted to the darkness rather quickly. My limbs were strong and agile, even at the fast pace we were moving. I inhaled the odors of the forest . . . the morning dew on the blades of grass and fallen leaves, the scent of moss, oak, and pine as we zigzagged our way through the labyrinth of thick trees. But there was a sound that troubled me. The sound of Melaina’s ragged breathing. I could tell she was fatigued and winded, her heart thumping strong and fast against her ribcage, and I was amazed she’d held pace for this long.

  Her face and cheeks were flustered, beads of perspiration dripped down her brow and dotted on her freckled cheeks.

  “Do you need to rest?” I whispered.

  “No,” she puffed. “I may be mortal, but I’m strong enough to bear my own load.”

  I realized it was her pride speaking, so I didn
’t push any further.

  As we made our way further into the forest, I addressed Kylan. “Could we pause for just a few moments?”

  “We shouldn’t stop,” he declared. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just . . .” I discretely tipped my head toward Melaina, hoping not to annoy her. “Not all of us are immortal.”

  Kylan held up a hand, and we all stopped.

  Melaina pressed her back up against a tree, then sifted through her satchel, withdrawing a canteen. Her face was red and splotchy, dripping with sweat.

  Brone stepped next to her. “If you’re tired, I can carry you.”

  Melaina’s eyes expanded, and she practically choked on her water. “Goddess, never! Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m an invalid. I just need a few seconds to catch my breath.”

  “I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Brone said, tipping his head. “I was merely offering my help.”

  Her glaring eyes considered him for a few moments, then softened as she drew in another sharp breath and exhaled. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help.” She screwed the lid back on her canteen and stuck it back in her satchel before pushing off the tree. “Let’s go.”

  I peered at Brone and shrugged. At least he offered. No one else did, and probably wouldn’t have.

  “She’s a feisty one,” he murmured, gently nudging my arm.

  I snickered, glancing at the scarred but handsome brute at my side. “Too much for you to handle?”

  He nodded. “I think I might have met my match.”

  We’d trekked through the woods, making our way north, toward Baelfast, pausing a few times for Melaina to rest and rehydrate. Kylan had a few extra canteens filled with blood, one of which he demanded me to consume.

  This time I was determined to control the thirst. It was a tremendous challenge when I placed the container to my lips, and the scent of blood hit my nose. The thirst monster inside tried to burst free, but I somehow managed to contain it and consume the entire contents without spilling a drop.