SEVEN
RYDER WATCHED as Vivien walked up the steps to McKinley’s Bed and Breakfast. He was shocked that they had found such a charming little town. He also had no illusions about their safety and knew they couldn’t get too comfortable. Ryder decided now would be a good time to call Tristan and ask for his support. He only hoped that his old friend would make it in time.
He pulled his phone from his pants pocket and placed the call. After the second ring, Tristan answered.
“Hey, Ryder. Is everything all right?”
“Not exactly. It seems I will be taking you up on your offer. We need your help and I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it to New Orleans. Is it possible to gather a few vampires and meet us in Oklahoma?”
Tristan took a deep breath. “What kind of trouble are you in, man? Has Damien caught up with you?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“No. As a matter of fact, I haven’t heard from him,” Ryder answered. “It’s Vivien—there’s a coven of witches trying to kill her—the same coven she’s been hiding from all of her life. We’ve escaped them twice now, but without backup, I doubt we will a third time.”
“Witches?” Tristan exclaimed. “Why is she running from witches? What has she done?”
“She was born. That is all, and they want to kill her for being what they consider an abomination.
“I can explain more later, but I need to know if we can count on you and the others to help us.” Ryder was beginning to get irritated. He didn’t have time for questions, yet he understood Tristan’s reluctance.
“All right. You have my word. Send me your location and I’ll gather the hybrids and a couple of witches. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
“Thank you, Tristan. I’ll send it over right away.”
“Don’t thank me yet. It seems we may be fighting witches and your coven if you’re not careful. When this is all over, you and Vivien should stay in New Orleans where it’s safe.”
“We’ll see what happens. I’m sending the information over now. See you soon, and Tristan, tell your friends I said thank you.”
“Will do,” Tristan replied, ending the call.
Ryder sent the information and took a deep breath. He hadn’t planned on such a long conversation. And where the hell was Vivien? What was taking her so long?
When Vivien walked through the quaint front entrance, she had no idea how beautiful the place would be inside. Polished cherry hardwood floors beneath her feet, fifteen-foot ceilings, and an antique desk situated near the far wall. On either side of it was a gleaming wooden staircase, she assumed led to the guests’ rooms. To her left was an open dining area housing at least eight round tables covered with red tablecloths and crystal centerpieces that had small candles floating in the middle. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the decorative tray ceiling above. There was even a bar located on the other side. She was in awe of the place.
Once Vivien was done gaping at her surroundings, she walked toward the front desk where an older woman was sitting looking over what seemed to be ledgers of some sort. She had graying hair tied up in a neat bun with reading glasses perched on her nose. When Vivien cleared her throat, a pair of violet-looking eyes rose to meet her stare. She opened her mouth to speak, but the older woman stood, then took Vivien’s hand.
“Welcome. Will there be two of you staying, dear?” the woman asked.
Vivien was taken aback by the woman’s eyes and her all-knowing inquisition. There was something strange about her, but calming as well. She didn’t get a bad vibe from the woman, but her aura—it was definitely different. She realized the older woman wasn’t exactly human. What was she?
Vivien smiled back nervously. “Yes, two, please.” She nearly stuttered, but the woman acted like she didn’t notice.
“My husband and I have been expecting you, Vivien.” And Vivien’s mouth dropped. She took a startled step back, removing her hand from the woman’s grasp.
“Who are you and how do you know my name?” she asked wide-eyed and breathing hard. She was about to make a run for it. This was twice now a stranger knew who she was.
“Do not be frightened, child.” The woman stepped out from behind the desk, wearing a long lavender dress, a white sweater draped around her shoulders. “I am like you, only a little different. I’ve known for years that you and a friend would be stopping by on this very day. My husband, Richard, and I, we can help you—protect you and cloak your magic while you’re here.”
Vivien didn’t know what to say. Who was this woman, and how? Her life was turning into a freak show. “What are you?”
“I’m an old witch, my dear, and I knew your mother, Gretchen. I have psychic abilities as well,” she said, reaching out to take Vivien’s hand again. “Please, come have a seat. Your mother was a dear friend and asked that when the time came, for me to protect you.”
Vivien’s eyes welled with tears. This woman knew her mother? Gretchen—she hadn’t heard her name in so many years. “How do I know what you say is true?” Vivien asked, walking toward the dining room.
The woman pulled a letter from her sweater pocket and handed it to Vivien. When she looked down, she recognized her mother’s handwriting immediately and broke down in tears. “Now, now. Don’t cry.” The woman soothed, rubbing circles along Vivien’s back. “My name is Emmaline, but you may call me Emma if you like.”
“Thank you, Emma,” Vivien said swiping her tears, then taking a seat at the table closest to the entryway. She opened the letter and began to read its contents.
Ryder was past the point of worry. It had been twenty-five minutes and Vivien still hadn’t returned. What could possibly be keeping her? So many scenarios were running through his mind. Suddenly, a sharp pain sliced though his chest and Ryder knew something was wrong. It was Vivien—he could feel her emotions. He wondered if it was because he had fed from her, but that had never happened to him before—he had only heard her thoughts. Ryder didn’t have time to ponder it—she was frightened. He had to go to her, protect her. Now.
He peered outside the black-tinted window; there was just enough shade until he made it to the sidewalk. He decided to throw his leather jacket over his head and run for the front door.
Using his inhuman speed, Ryder barely felt the sun touch what little flesh was exposed. He rushed through the front door. “Vivien!” he cried out, looking around frantically. Then he saw her sitting with an old woman in a dining area. She was crying.
Keeping to the shadows, he went to her.
“It’s okay, Ryder. I’m fine. This is Emma.” She pointed to the now-smiling woman. Why was she smiling?
“You are not all right,” Ryder said. “You’re crying, Vivien. I felt your pain all the way outside. That’s why I rushed in here. I thought you were in trouble.” He knew he might be overreacting, but what he felt was real.
“No, you’re right. I am or was upset, but it’s not what you think.” Vivien stood and went to him.
“Oh dear, let me close some of these curtains. I do apologize,” Emma said, standing, then drawing the heavy shades to darken the room. “How rude of me.”
“No. Don’t apologize,” Ryder said, pulling Vivien close. “Thank you.” He knew she was a good soul, and a witch. He sensed it the moment she spoke.
“Ryder, Emma and her husband can help us until your friends arrive,” Vivien said looking up at him. “She knows how to keep my magic cloaked from the coven warriors.”
Ryder should have been shocked, but he wasn’t. Something inside told him that they were meant to find this place, he just wasn’t aware of its significance yet.
“She knew my mother, Ryder. They were friends and my mom left a letter for me. Emma knew we were coming. I know it sounds crazy, but I read it and it’s written in her handwriting. She knew about you too. Please, don’t ask me how. I’m still trying to process it.” Vivien laid her head on his shoulder and he pulled her to his side.
“Why don’t we all have a seat in the parlor just
off the dining room,” Emma suggested. “I’ll pull the curtains closed in there as well. Just give me a minute, then we can sit and chat for a bit.
“Oh, and Vivien, you were led here by a higher being greater than you or me. This is your destiny. When the others arrive, you will see.” Then she walked out of the room leaving Ryder stunned.
“What does she mean?” He looked down into Vivien’s azure eyes, wondering if he’d stepped into an alternate universe.
“I guess we’re about to find out.”
A few moments later, Emma called for them to follow her into the parlor. Ryder’s mind was in turmoil. He realized that Vivien trusted the woman, and he could feel that no lie had escaped her. What the hell was going on? They were in the Twilight Zone—he decided to just go with it. There wasn’t another soul on the premises and he was grateful.
When they entered the darkened parlor, Emma offered them a cup of hot tea and Vivien accepted. Emma then looked to Ryder. “I knew you were coming, and I have bottled blood that I can warm for you, if you prefer,” she offered sweetly.
“I’m fine. Thank you, Emma.” She knew he was coming? Okay, someone had better start explaining.
They each took a seat on a plush suede sofa with Ryder next to Vivien and Emma sitting opposite them. She set the tea tray on the wooden coffee table between them.
“I realize this is a lot to take in,” Emma began, pouring two cups of tea, “but my husband and I carry a lot of power between the two of us. We, too, were once part of the same coven your mother fled, but Vivien, they are not what they seem.” She took a breath, then sipped her tea. “Garginton does not exist—it was a fabrication to keep you alive—Gretchen didn’t want to run the risk of you searching him out. Your father, Machin, he is the head of what he now calls, Brighton Coven, and he’s the one who has a price on your head.”
Vivien gasped, then put her hands over her mouth. Before she could reply, Ryder stepped in. “Why was she lied to and why does her own father want her dead?” he asked, anger rising within him.
“Because Vivien is more powerful than she knows, carrying her mother’s powers, along with Machin’s shapeshifting abilities,” Emma replied. “He’s a witch as well—a power-hungry, evil man who believes she will destroy all that he has built. That’s why he began the rumors of Vivien being an abomination. Gretchen had no choice but to leave everything behind and hide them away. She could never reveal Vivien’s true identity until now.”
Just then, Ryder’s phone rang, and it was Damien. He looked at his cell, then sent it to voicemail. He didn’t have time for that little twit’s bullshit. He’d deal with him later and find out where he fit into this complicated puzzle.
Vivien was near sobbing and something inside Ryder broke just a little. Was it his heart? He couldn’t remember heartbreak, but he was certain he was feeling it now. He pulled her into a hug, smoothing her long black hair.
Vivien pulled away and looked toward Emma. “So, my entire life has been a lie? I understand it was for my protection, but why didn’t Mom tell me before she died?”
“In a way, I suppose you’re right,” Emma said. “Your mother had to do everything within her power to protect you. Because you carry your father’s blood, he’s able to track your magical signature each time you use it, except when you’re here. Harlington is warded against anyone who wishes to do us or any of its inhabitants harm.”
Vivien breathed a sigh of relief. Real relief this time. She finally felt safe and, after reading her mother’s letter, everything that Emma said made perfect sense. “May I ask a question?” Vivien set her cup of tea on the coffee table. “A couple of questions actually.”
“Yes, dear,” Emma answered, then sipped her tea.
“Where’s everyone else? And where’s your husband?” she asked.
“At the moment, the two of you will be our only guests until your friends arrive,” she responded. “As for Richard, he’s out preparing for what’s to come.”
Vivien didn’t need to ask what was to come. She knew a battle would soon rage between the Harlington witches, Brighton coven warriors—her father in particular—along with Ryder’s trusted friends. Her heart thundered in her chest. She’d been on the run for so long, and now, she was finally going to face her fears whether she liked it or not.
“Do we have anyone on the lookout for these witches?” Ryder asked, seeming concerned.
“Of course,” Emma answered. “We’re never unprotected here.
“Let me show you to your room where you can clean up and make yourselves more comfortable.” Emma stood, motioning for them to follow. “We can chat more after you’ve rested, then I’ll prepare a nice meal.”
“Thank you. That would be lovely,” Vivien said, standing to follow behind her. She wanted a long soak in a bubble bath. “Oh, wait. We don’t have any clean clothes. We’ve been on the run since daybreak.”
“Why, use your magic, dear. You’re safe and cannot be detected within the city of Harlington,” Emma said with a grandmotherly smile.
Vivien smiled back. Clothes, she could conjure clothes! She wanted to dance with excitement, but thought better of it and only nodded politely in response.
They followed Emma to the second floor—it was just as stunning as the main entrance. There were hardwood floors throughout, with half the walls painted a dark shade of red below the chair rail, and above was painted a tasteful cream color where pictures of magical scenes were displayed every few feet. Golden wall sconces lit up the long hallway. When they stopped in front of Room 27, Emma asked them to remain in the hallway until she could shade the room for Ryder.
Emma walked out, handing each of them a key. There were two queen-sized sleigh beds with white down comforters and fluffy pillows stacked six high. An elegant wooden desk was situated across from the bed with a cherry wood entertainment center a few feet away. Off to the right was a huge en suite bathroom with a claw-foot tub and glass shower; it had two sinks as well with plenty of towels and toiletries to fit their needs.
They walked further into the room and noticed another doorway leading to a sitting room with a small kitchenette. This place had everything. Vivien wanted to roll around on the bed, after she had a bath.
“I call first dibs on the bathroom,” Vivien exclaimed, stripping on the way there. She didn’t care if Ryder saw her naked at this point. She only cared about being clean, and that tub had her name written all over it.
The stark white tile felt cool on her bare feet. The first thing she did after locating lavender-scented bubble bath, along with shampoo and conditioner, was reach over and turn the brass knobs to get the steaming water flowing in the white porcelain claw-foot tub. The bathroom had everything she needed to be comfortable: fluffy white robe, huge towels, and even lavender essential oils. It was perfect and just what she needed right then to relax.
Vivien wondered what Ryder was doing in the other room, but she didn’t have to think about it for too long. She heard noise from the television and smiled. She guessed vampires were like everyone else; they watched TV too. He was as normal as just about anyone. Hell, what did she really know about “normal” anyway? Ryder had saved her ass, even if he was originally supposed to kill her. He had put his life on the line for her more than once and she was grateful—she trusted him.
With all of the new information about her father being the one who had been chasing her all of these years, Vivien could feel the knots of tension forming in her shoulders. Everything that she’d ever known had ultimately been a lie. This man, Machin, wanted her dead because of power? None of it was adding up in Vivien’s mind. Why kill his own daughter? There had to be something else. It saddened her that the first time she would ever meet her father would be in battle, not that she ever thought about meeting him before. The man was supposed to be dead.
Once the tub was nearly full, Vivien shut the water off and stepped in. The temperature was just right, and she could feel her muscles relaxing almost immediately. She leaned her h
ead back, placing her hands along the edges, and closed her eyes.
EIGHT
RYDER SAT ON THE BED, then fluffed the pillows and leaned back, putting his left hand behind his head. He could hear Vivien’s thoughts as she waited for her bath and decided to turn on the television. He could feel the confusion raging within her after the events of the day, and he understood. It had already been a long day and it was only after noon. Learning that her father was still alive and hunting her had to be a huge blow. The very thought of it made Ryder’s blood boil. No one would touch her—he would protect her with his life, that he knew.
He switched through channels, finding nothing but the same old political bullshit on the news and decided to watch X-Men on HBO. He set the remote down on the bedside table, attempting to relax when his cell phone rang again. He pulled it from his pocket—it was Damien. Again. Dammit.
Looking at the flashing screen, he decided to answer.
“What’s up?”
“What’s up? Is that any way to greet your coven leader?”
Ryder cringed and wanted to throat punch him through the phone.
“What is it, Damien? I’m busy,” Ryder said, irritated.
“Busy?” Damien huffed. “No one has seen or heard from you in quite some time. Is the girl dead? You have yet to bring me proof of her assassination. I do not like to be kept waiting.”
Ryder sat up and ran his hand through his dark brown hair. “My whereabouts is of no one’s concern as long as I do my job, correct? And as for the girl, she left town. I’m tracking her now,” he lied.
“You’ve lost her! I have a lot of money riding on this and you had better not screw it up or I will have your head.”
“Why is the girl so important to you? I’ve never seen you get this worked up over a mark. What’s so special about this job?” Ryder was seething, wanting nothing more than to tell Damien to go to hell.
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