The Vampire Touch 3: A New Dawn

by Sarah J. Stone

  The captain steps out of the lower deck and looks on at all of this.

  “The Redcoats?” he asks, more to himself than anyone else.

  “Looks like it,” I reply.

  “Did we go back in time?” We hop off the boat, walking among the crowd. Everyone’s looking at us, shocked and confused. To them, we don’t fit. To us, they don’t.

  “What year is it?” the captains asks.

  “The year of our Lord nineteen hundred and ninety-five,” the man in his red coat answers.

  This is going to be fun.

  ***

  It’s been five years since the captain, his crew, and I came to this world. In that time, I have done my research. Wherever we ended up on our journeys, it seems that the British won the war here in America. In taking the victory here, the superpower that was the United Kingdom took over the world in the two hundred and nineteen-year separation between our two worlds, this one seems to have had the queen conquer. Though it seems supernatural communities do exist among the normal people, they are far laxer about it. In our world, I would have never known about it had they not come for me. Here, they co-exist. I can tell the difference between them all. Man, vampire, witch, werewolf, and whatever else comes onto my path.

  The interesting side effect of the British empire taking the win over America meant that they dominated the world. Bringing all races, creeds, and religions into a kind of stasis. An unchanging, balanced shift where if you are against the queen then you are instantly sentenced to death.

  This stasis brought about no new technological discovery. The world continued spinning on its axis without change. Without a need to fight or the need to bring the latest, greatest warring tool out to win the next big battle. They stayed in the eighteen hundreds…or well, our eighteen hundred.

  I find this unique. Interesting. A perplexing state to be in.

  With the orange sun, I find my own powers have magnified greatly. Wherein the yellow sun that my old world revolves around brings death to my kind, here it strengthens us. The captain and his crew seem unchanged. The vampires here cower to their sun. All kinds of rumblings and rumors circulate about gods in the skies. The true threats against the normal human kind. There is no fun for a god in a world that is perfectly peaceful.

  Introduce a little chaos into the mix, and everybody loses their minds, though.

  This is what I see myself as. The chaos this society needed. And not even quite as vigorous as that. As I learned my abilities here, I learned that I had become rather great. With all the benefits of a vampire, each one only becoming enhanced by the sun, not even their own strongest forces could stand against me.

  Manipulating matter and minds. Forcing my way into every seat of power, I sit at the head of power in this world. Technology quickly becomes something that this world had to come to grips with when our boat came into port, and the world has evolved from our entrance.

  I am their queen. I am their goddess. I will protect them from the strike of whichever god comes after them, and I have, as their tales will recall for eons to come.

  It’s been five years. In those five years, I have become so attune with my powers and abilities that I believe I have far exceeded where I would have been had I remained on Earth, a lost, scared girl, shifted by a cowardly vampire that forced his will onto me. Giving the say so, where I had no part in the answer.

  “Your majesty.” A soldier walks into the room, bowing down as he would to the old queen, who quickly relinquished power after I set my sights on her seat.

  “Yes?” I reply. I have set my throne up in America. Bellcall, in fact. The University of Bellcall having never been created. Bellcall in general, never coming to light. This world is missing out on a lot, it seems. But how great for me that I have multiplied from a young girl, into a great being, basically overnight due to the effects of something that should have killed me the moment I stepped out into it.

  “You have a visitor. She tells me her name is Meghan.” I open my mouth to speak but say nothing. Could it be? Could she have somehow survived? No. She was buried shortly after we docked. Does that mean I possibly created a sireling? A vampire child and only now figured out about her? The struggles she went through in order to get here. I could have nurtured her.

  A hand rips through the man that announced her, one last beat from his heart even once it’s been removed from his chest.

  “Olivia Lockhart.” Meghan walks into the room. Her black, curly locks unchanged. A stern, cold look in her eye.

  “M…Meghan?” I ask.

  “Not quite.” She walks up to me. I’ve already gotten out of my seat and walked toward her. I did this without even realizing.

  “What do you mean not quite?” I ask, stopping dead in my tracks as she gets closer to me, standing not three feet away before she speaks again.

  “I am not your friend. I merely took her form, as to see my own you would not be able to comprehend me. Your mind would shatter,” she says. “You have committed great crimes here. You’ve stepped from the reality and destiny set for you, replacing it with taking control of a world that does not belong to you. Abusing a temporal loop in the multiverse, you traveled here, took control, and obliterated the very fabric this dimension was created on. You must be punished for your crimes.” I laugh, rising into the air by lifting my hands up before launching forward with a fist ready to strike.

  A flat palm stops me in my tracks, the hand closing around my fist.

  “I am not one of them, nor am I one of the Forsaken…” She contemplates something for a moment. “Wrong timeline,” she adds before getting back to what she was saying. “I am an Ethereal. You do not know of us, and you’ll never encounter another again. I am order and to restore it…” a blink of an eye, and we are back in Bellcall. I collapse in pain as the light of the sun strikes me. “You must suffer.”

  I scream out as the sun begins burning my flesh away. We’ve returned back to my old world, it seems. Left in the sun to suffer in agony.

  Is this where I die?

  Is this how I die?

  Alone?

  Witch Academy Box Set (1-5)

  Sarah J. Stone

  Book 1: The Missing Queen

  Chapter 1

  Desmond awoke with a start, his body tensing up. It took him a moment to figure out exactly what the problem was, his magic finding its way up to his brain.

  He realized after a moment that it was a crash from his kitchen that had woken him. However, the presence that he sensed was not anything that would cause him harm. His dishes and food supply might be in danger, but he was not.

  Running a hand over his face, he tried to pull the sleep from his eyes, glancing at the time piece. He was planning to get up now anyway; the alarm would beep after a moment or two. It was later than he normally got up, but he didn't have anywhere to be for another hour.

  “Nathaniel,” he said as the door to his chambers whooshed open at his touch. “What are you doing?”

  His former Tiro looked up at him, a piece of toast in his mouth.

  “You're awake.”

  Desmond raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe.

  “You think I can't still sense when you are causing chaos? Eleven years of training you, Nathaniel. I promise that the bond is not broken yet.”

  Nathaniel smirked as he searched for more bread, and Desmond decided it was a losing battle. Besides, he was meeting Mariah for breakfast anyway, so he didn't need food here.

  He had trained Nathaniel for eleven years as his third Tiro, readying him as a full-fledged witch; the guardians of the galaxy. Magic was dangerous and destructive if not controlled and well trained, and those born with it often didn't survive it unless they were taken from their families and devoted their life to its control. Witches, who were taken to the academies around the galaxy and trained by Maestros, became warriors, guardians, peacemakers, and healers. They were well respected, strong, and completely devoted to keeping the galaxy safe.

  It
came at a price, of course. They rarely, if ever, saw their families again. They were not supposed to form attachments or have families of their own. They were completely devoted to their craft and their quests. When they were young, they were usually devoted to their Maestros. When they came of age, they were put through a series of rigorous tests that determined whether they could go off on their own and become a new generation of Maestros.

  There were exceptions to every rule, of course. Tiros were supposed to be in the academy from the time they started walking, and they needed to be with a Maestro by the time they were thirteen if they wanted to be able to take the tests. Otherwise, they remained at school until eighteen and could work in a minor role. Any time after eighteen, they could take the tests and become a full-fledged witch.

  Desmond knew that he and Nathaniel had broken almost every single one of those rules in their years together. It wasn't necessarily on purpose, because he didn't always believe in everything the Jurors dictated. But Nathaniel had been almost fourteen when Desmond finally took him on after a disastrous last Tiro. Nathaniel was stubborn, mouthy, and more interested in fun half the time. Desmond knew Nathaniel would never be the serious, quiet, thoughtful Witch that was expected. Nathaniel was twenty-four when he finally took the tests, passing with flying colors in everything except his attitude.

  Now, nearly two years later, they remained at the academy. Nathaniel was teaching some of the classes, and Desmond sat on the Jurors part time, dealing with the intergalactic issues that came their way. Both of them were expected at some point soon to take on a Tiro. But after a bumpy eleven years, Nathaniel didn't seem quite ready to be self-sufficient

  Desmond, despite being technically free of a Tiro, found it hard to find time for himself and Mariah – not that he publicly wished for it.

  The first day Desmond saw Mariah was nearly thirty years ago. They had both been young witches on their first Tiros. They had locked eyes across the room, and Desmond knew that he was in trouble.

  Neither of them had broken any rules, at least in public. But as they started to age toward retirement with a quiet life of advising only in their near future, he found it harder to make sure they were in line and not just existing in a grey area that the Jurors raised their eyebrows at.

  He knew Nathaniel was aware of the fine line he walked and took it as challenge. No matter how much Desmond tried and scolded, Nathaniel had always had eyes for women. He wasn't discreet either, and more than once, he had been called in front of the Jurors for disobedience.

  Desmond's only solace was that, as Nathaniel got older, he seemed to be settling down and focusing his attention on the one woman he came back to again, and again. A quest on Jeffro – a border planet – had introduced the fifteen-year-old Nathaniel to the seventeen-year-old orphaned ruler, Queen Eliza. She was just as head strong, stubborn, and in control of her emotions as he was. Desmond pretended to not hear the late-night hologram fights they had over the years, and pretended not to hear Nathaniel's thoughts when they were doing well. As long as he was focused on his duties, Desmond could turn a blind eye. And, he noticed, no matter how hard they fought, they always returned to each other. They fought in a way that acknowledged that ending their relationship was never an option.

  It was admirable, in a way, except neither of them were supposed to be even thinking of romantic love.

  This life was not an easy one, but it was worth it for the greater good. Despite being two of the most powerful warrior witches in the galaxy, they were still only human.

  “Are you going to the showcase today?” Nathaniel asked. “I saw them setting up this morning.”

  “I might,” Desmond answered, watching Nathaniel eat his way through half a loaf of bread. The showcases were bi-annual and meant to show off the skills of young witches who were hoping to find Maestros. They came from the various academies to go the headquarters, and it was usually impressive. Desmond wasn't quite sure he was interested in taking another one, though. If he was truthful, Nathaniel had been difficult at best. Desmond would technically age out before another Tiro came of age. He and Mariah had loose plans to not take another one, retiring together. Not that he could tell anyone of that, he knew.

  Right now, his biggest concern was getting Nathaniel out of his kitchen. “Is there something wrong with the cafeteria? Or your own kitchen, perhaps? Your room is down the hall, Nathaniel. Surely your own kitchen is closer.”

  “I have to teach in ten minutes,” Nathaniel protested. “There's no time to wait in the cafeteria or make my own food. You always have something ready.”

  “In case I need to grab something swiftly,” Desmond replied. “I don't usually keep you in mind.”

  “I love how prepared you are, Maestro,” Nathaniel grinned. “I didn't have time last night.”

  “Why? You finished class at seven p.m.” Desmond raised an eyebrow. “What did you do with your evening?”

  “Eliza called,” Nathaniel admitted. “It was a long call.”

  “I'm sure it was,” Desmond said. “Go to class. If the professor is late, it says something.”

  “See you.” Nathaniel finally finished chewing and took off, leaving Desmond to shake his head. Nathaniel's appetite had not changed since he was fifteen, nor had his energy or his attitude. It was amazing how different they were. Nathaniel's dream was to be on the Jurors, where Desmond couldn't think of a more boring way to live life. Although Nathaniel was successful and well respected, Desmond sometimes wondered where he went wrong as a Maestro.

  He tied up the bread bag, putting the dishes in the sink before going to get dressed. He always got Mariah from her room if they were having a meal together, as the hallways were crowded. Mariah had been blinded nearly ten years ago, and although she was very proficient with her magic, using it to see rather than her eyes, he still worried about her. Her last Tiro, Nathaniel's childhood best friend, had graduated early, and Mariah had been working within the safety of the academy ever since. Desmond worried every day she took a minor quest, even though he knew she was just as strong as the first day.

  His com-link buzzed as he was finishing getting dressed, and he saw it was Thomas, one of the permanent members.

  “I'm not expected for another two hours,” he answered, finishing the buttons on his old shirt.

  “I know,” Thomas replied. “I'm not calling because I don't know how to tell time.”

  “Good to know,” Desmond answered. “What can I do for you?”

  “There was a ship coming from a border planet that had some terrible turbulence. It was full of showcases attendees, and some were injured. Can you stop by the med bay to sign off on their participation? The professor is insistent that they participate, and I'm not sure he's taking their physical state into account.”

  “These off-world professors,” Desmond said, shaking his head. “They count their success on the amount of Tiros that get trained, regardless of consequence.”

  “I'm aware,” Thomas said. “Will you do it?”

  “In an hour,” Desmond replied. “I have plans currently.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I have plans,” Desmond repeated. “But I will be there.”

  Thomas sighed. “Fine,” he answered, not willing to fight. “I'll see you later.”

  “You will,” Desmond said, and hung up. He knew that walking the grey areas of magic often landed him with tasks like this, but it was a small price to pay to mostly do as he pleased.

  Mariah was ready when he came to the door, looking beautiful despite a plain outfit. Her hair was pulled back, and he was used to the scarring around her eyes that had caused the blindness. Once bright red, the scars were now pure white, crisscrossing her eyes and causing his heart to ache whenever he saw her. She was still beautiful, but he hated that he had not been there to help her.

  “Good morning,” Mariah said, knowing exactly where to look. “You're troubled today.”

  He smiled, always impressed by how sensitive her magic was.


  “It could have been Thomas calling to ask me something ridiculous,” he replied. “Or it could be that Nathaniel showed up and ate half of my fridge before dawn.”

  “So, a normal day, then?” She smiled at him, closing the door behind them. He took her arm, the shivers going down her spine. The only good thing about her blindness was that they could now touch in public under the guise that he was guiding her.

  “A normal day, lately,” he said, shaking his head. “Nathaniel has such pent-up energy since we've returned. When we were working, he could exhaust himself by the end of the day. We worked from dawn to dusk, and I usually didn't hear a peep from him after ten p.m. But here, just teaching during the day and having nothing to do in the evenings doesn't suit him. And yet he does nothing about it.”

  “Desmond,” Mariah said softly with the patience of a mother. Their Tiros were the closest thing to children they would have in a life they could only dream of having. “He's not ready to leave you.”

  “He's taken the tests,” Desmond replied, “and he was physically ready to take them years ago. I know his self-sufficiency is still an area he struggles with, but he will not last long here before he gets into trouble. There's already a pretty blond Maestro that I see him eyeing.”

  “Are we ones to talk?” Mariah asked, and he sighed.

  “He's not discreet, Mariah.”

  “At that age,” she said softly, “I'm not sure we had learned how to be, either.”

  Chapter 2

  “Mariah.” Her former Tiro and Nathaniel's childhood best friend, Sybil, touched her arm gently as they were finishing their breakfast in the cafeteria. Humanoid with green skin and a need for a watery environment more often than not, it had been Sybil that they thought would be more difficult to train than Nathaniel. But Sybil had proved a quick study and quick to adapt, and had taken the tests at nineteen, several years before Nathaniel. Today, she had her own Tiro and was rising fast. “How are you?

  “I am well,” Mariah said, still feeling a bond with her former Tiro. “I thought you were back last night. Was it successful?”