The Sacrifice

by Evangeline Anderson

  I also try to make peace with the past. I go to visit my mom’s grave and tell her how sorry I am. Sometimes I can almost feel her presence and when I look in the mirror, I see her staring back at me. I know what Lexy says is right—she loved me and forgave me. The question is, will I ever be able to forgive myself?

  But the thing that hurts me the most, even more than learning the traumatic truth about my mom, is Aiden’s abandonment. I thought he cared for me, that he wanted to keep me by his side. I guess I was wrong. But then…what about the way he claimed me? The way he insisted I was his and only his? Did he only say those things in the heat of the moment, because we were having such passionate, intense sex? Lexy assures me that’s what guys do—they make all kinds of promises, swear eternal love and devotion, say whatever it is they think you want to hear—but none of it means anything.

  It’s hard for me to believe that about Aiden—I thought he was different. But as Lexy points out, even if he’s a centuries old vampire, he’s still a guy. And guys are fundamentally untrustworthy—at least according to her.

  I keep waiting for him to call, hoping he’ll prove her wrong. Even if he’d just pick up the phone for a minute to make sure I’m okay, I’d be so happy…but he doesn’t. He doesn’t call and he doesn’t come into the shop on the days that I work. For all intents and purposes, he seems to have completely disappeared.

  Sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t like my new look. After all, he always claimed to like me just the way I was and my magic did a complete makeover when it finally manifested. I think it’s a big improvement—aside from the fact that I’m still plus sized—but maybe he doesn’t see it that way. I hate to think that Aiden would be that shallow, but maybe now that I look so different, he’s lost interest.

  I think about going to his house and talking to him but that reeks too much of desperation. After all, he released me from my service to him, what excuse could I give for showing up? I can’t even say I left my things at his place. The day after the incident with the Vampire Council, a big cardboard box arrived for me with all my clothing folded neatly inside. He’d even sent my cell phone and charger—everything was accounted for. I must have hunted through the box for an hour, turning every damn piece of clothing inside out but there wasn’t so much as a note. It hurt so much I sat down and cried afterward. And then I nearly set fire to the shower curtain when I tried to take a hot shower and relax.

  All in all, not a good day.

  Things are looking up a little now, though. I have my powers mostly under control and I’m finally moving back to my own place. Lexy wanted me to stay with her longer but I decided it was time to get back to my normal routine—whatever that is. I’ve been living such a strange, surreal existence for so long now, I don’t know if I’d recognize normal if it bit me on the ass.

  When I finally step in the door of my little second story loft in Ybor City, my first thought is that it’s good to be home. My second is that everything is dusty with disuse—it’s been months since I lived here.

  I don’t love to clean house but I get to work anyway, trying to put my place back in order…trying to put my life back in order. To go back to the way things were before Aiden picked me out of the crowd and claimed me…then tossed me aside like a broken toy he didn’t want anymore.

  Thinking of my vampire master makes me sad and blue. After my cleaning spree, I decide to take a hot bath, drink a glass of wine, and go to bed early. I have to be to the shop tomorrow at seven, anyway. We’re training a new person to run it since my aunt declared that letting power like mine go to waste behind a counter is a crime against the Goddess. So I’d better get an early night.

  As I snuggle into bed between fresh sheets, I close my eyes and send a silent prayer to the Goddess for deep sleep with no dreams. I’ve been having nightmares lately, dreams of blue witch-fire turning into hungry, golden flames that leap from my fingertips and consume everything in their path. I always wake up panting and covered in sweat but they seem to be your garden variety nightmares.

  I’ve only had The Dream once since I went home with Lexy. It presaged my period, as usual, only this time I had a normal cycle. Meaning the cramps were bearable and my period lasted about a week instead of one hideous day from hell. It seems that my blocked magic was also to blame for the terrible stabbing agony I used to get. Now that it’s unblocked, it can flow freely, normalizing my menstrual cycle, which is inextricably tied to it.

  Tired of thinking about The Dream and my other nightmares, I close my eyes and count sheep. Around sheep number two hundred, I finally drift off…only to find myself looking right at my mother.

  “Emma?” She steps toward me, her arms held out.

  My heart jumps. If this is a dream, I don’t want it to end. “Mom!” I rush to her arms and she holds me, our ebony hair mingling around our shoulders. To my surprise I realize that I’m taller than she is now. Well, of course I am. The last time I saw her I was only eight and…and…

  “Mom,” I say in a rush. “Mom, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I never meant to start that fire. I thought I was helping you. I didn’t know…”

  “Hush, sweetheart.” She puts a finger to my lips and then hugs me again. “I know all that. I’m not angry—I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

  “Oh, Mom…” Tears sting my eyes. “Then you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” she says firmly. “It was an accident. Any child can burn down a house if you leave the matches lying around where they can get them. It just so happens your matches were inside you, if that makes any sense.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” I take a deep, trembling breath.

  “I’m just glad you’re safe,” she says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Thank the Goddess the vampire came when I called him. No one else could have gotten to us in time, no one else could have saved you from the house and protected you from the satyr.” She pats my cheek. “He loves you, you know. Very much.”

  “I don’t think so,” I whisper. I feel tears rising to my eyes and try to wipe them away. “He hasn’t called or come to see me since he released me from his service. I think he’s completely forgotten about me.”

  “Of course he hasn’t.” My mother sounds indignant. “He—” Suddenly her face changes. Her eyes grow large and her cheeks grow pale. “Emma, darling, I love you and I forgive you but now you have to wake up.”

  “What?” I look around and see that the edges of this little reality we’re in are melting away. “No, please,” I beg. “I don’t want to wake up, Mom. I want to stay here with you.”

  “You can’t.” She gives me a grim look. “You’re in danger. Wake up, Emma! Wake—”

  "—up, you little bitch. Wake up.”

  I gasp as my mother’s frightened face fades completely away. My eyes fly open to see the dark face of Emilio Sanchez leaning over me. His thick, goaty smell is suffocating in the small space of my bedroom. I open my mouth to scream but he grabs me by the throat, choking off the sound before it can even start.

  “Told you I’d make you pay,” he growls, grinning fiercely at me, his slotted yellow eyes burning in the darkness. “I’ve waiting to get to you for fourteen years, girlie, but now your number’s up. I’m gonna kill you nice and slow but first I’m gonna fuck you, just like I promised.”

  “No!” I try to shout but he’s choking off my air and it comes out as a desperate whisper instead. I think of kicking the walls to wake up my neighbors, but the condos on either side of me are empty. In fact, there’s only one other person in the whole building, an eccentric musician named Seth, and I’m pretty sure he’s on tour with his band right now. I’m literally all alone with no hope of escaping from the murderous satyr.

  No, can’t think like that! I’m not helpless—I have power now. Except I need my voice to cast a spell. A fact that Sanchez doubtless knows or he wouldn’t be choking off my air until I see black spots dancing in my vision. I realize I have to hurry—
if I let him make me unconscious, I’ll never wake up.

  Burn him, Emma, a voice whispers fiercely in my ear. Burn him like you meant to all those years ago.

  And just like that, the solution comes to me. I may not be able to say a spell, but I don’t need the power of my voice to call a witch-fire. The last time I tried to use it to drive Sanchez away, it went horribly wrong. But I’m an adult now and a powerful witch. I’m determined to make up for the past and get it right this time.

  Lifting my hand, I point my first two fingers at him and call for the flames. Immediately, blue sparks spit from my fingertips and directly into his face. One lands directly in his yellow eye and Sanchez gives a cry of horror and lets me go. He knuckles his wounded eye with one hand and slaps at his clothing and hair with the other. But the witch-flames are hungry. They grow and spread, licking over his clothing and his dark, greasy hair.

  The satyr howls and stumbles backward. He falls to the floor as the flames consume him and he becomes a living torch. I stare at him in horror, frozen to the spot. There is a horrible smell like cooking meat as he writhes in agony and now the witch-flames are spreading, jumping away, searching for more fuel.

  No! My paralysis breaks and I call to the flames. “Come back, turn back! Stop!” But already the fire is beyond me, out of my limited control. They have been paid their due—the satyr’s writhing form is proof of that. But the witch-flames are horribly fast and voracious. They tear down the hallway and through my front door, spreading to the lofts on either side and the building beyond. Goddess, what have I done?

  I watch numbly as the fire ignores my commands and then turns toward me. It rushes across the carpet and climbs the curtains, framing one of my two windows in flames. A feeling of deja vu fills me. This is exactly how it happened when I was a little girl. I called the fire and then I couldn’t control it. It’s going to eat me now, like it ate the still twitching Sanchez. Like it ate my mother. I’m going to die in agony, alone…

  “Emma! Emma!”

  A deep, familiar voice is calling my name. I jerk my head around, wondering where it’s coming from.

  “The window,” he shouts. “Come to the window!”

  I run to the one window not engulfed in flames, just as I did as a child. But this time instead of seeing the face of a monster waiting to hurt me outside, I see Aiden. Fear is etched on his white features as he shouts for me to open the window.

  I wrestle with the heavy sash and finally wedge it open. The room behind me is filled with smoke and it billows out, making me cough and choke. “Aiden?” I gasp, looking down at him.

  “Emma!” There is unmistakable relief in his eyes. “The whole building’s on fire,” he shouts up at me. “I can’t get to you. You’ll have to jump.”

  “Jump?” I feel the pit of my stomach freeze in fear. The loft I live in may only be two stories but they are very tall stories. The ground is more than twenty five feet straight down and I’ve always had a fear of heights.

  “Jump!” he shouts again, holding out his arms. “Come on—I’ll catch you.”

  No way, uh-uh, whispers the voice of fear in my head. I don’t think so. “I’ll come the other way,” I tell him. “Maybe I can get through.”

  “No! You’ll never make it!” His roar is loud enough to be heard over the hungry flames. I can feel their heat on my back and I’m afraid that any moment my hair will go up in a gold and orange and red corona just like my mother’s did so many years ago. Still, I’m afraid. Afraid to climb out onto the ledge and let go.

  “But—”

  “Emma.” His voice is stern and low and it sends a strange tremble though my body. With a start, I realize he is using his Master voice on me. “Emma,” he repeats in that same tone. “Come out of the window. Right now, do you understand?”

  The many nights of erotic play rise up in my mind and I feel my body reacting, obeying, even though my brain wants to refuse. My head is dizzy and my hands are shaking as I climb out the window and stand swaying on the ledge, looking down at my master standing so far below.

  “Master,” I whisper but somehow Aiden hears me.

  “Now jump,” he commands, holding out his arms. “Trust me, Emma, I’ll catch you. I’ll always catch you.”

  I don’t jump so much as fall. My fingers somehow peel themselves from the window pane and then, with a low cry, I’m flying free in the night with the ground rushing up to meet me. I close my eyes tight, not wanting to see, not wanting to know when I’m about to make impact…

  Then two strong arms catch me and pull me close.

  I put my arms around his neck and hold on tight. I’m crying and shaking and I feel him shaking too. Then, suddenly, he’s running. Running so fast the wind stings my eyes and I have to shelter my face in the crook of his neck. I have a confused impression of the raging fire receding in the distance and streets and houses streaming by at the speed of light. Then dark branches are whipping all around us. Up ahead, I see a house with glass walls, lit from within by a golden radiance. Unable to help myself, I think home.

  Aiden doesn’t stop until he has me in the living room of his house and is sitting on a couch, still holding me. Only then does he speak.

  “Darling.” He crushes me to him, burying his face in my hair. “Oh Emma, I thought I’d lost you.”

  I’m tempted to melt at his words but then I remember he said the exact same thing after we healed the binding spell and I fainted in front of the Vampire Council. And then he left me and never called once. I struggle against him, trying to sit up.

  “Why are we here? Why did you bring me to your house?”

  “I…” Aiden looks stricken. “Instinct, I suppose,” he says at last. “You were in danger. My first impulse was to bring you where I knew I could keep you safe. To bring you home.”

  “Your home,” I whisper. “Not mine.”

  “No.” He clears his throat. “Of course not.” Abruptly, he puts me down on the couch and moves back, putting some room between us. “Forgive me,” he says formally. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t. I…I just…” Miserably I twist my fingers into knots, trying to think of what to say. How many times have I imagined this moment in my mind, since the last time I saw him? How many things have I planned to ask, to beg, to demand, to plead? And yet now they’re all gone and my head is empty. “How…how did you know I was in danger?” I ask at last.

  Aiden looks at the carpet. “I felt it,” he says in a low voice. “I don’t have much of your blood left—I bled most of it out onto the Council Room floor. But there was just enough left to let me know you…you needed me.”

  “Thank you for coming,” I say softly. “It was Sanchez. I set fire to him because he…he was going to…” My throat locks up and I can’t get the words out, can’t stop seeing those slotted yellow eyes as the satyr hissed his final threat.

  “I know what he was going to do.” A muscle in the side of Aiden’s jaw clenches. “I should have killed him years ago.”

  “Well, he’s dead now,” I say with a shiver, remembering the screaming, clawing lump of burning flesh the satyr became when the witch-flames engulfed him.

  “I’m glad he won’t be bothering you anymore.” Aiden clears his throat. “As it happens, I won’t either.”

  “What? What do you mean?” My heart is suddenly thumping so loudly I’m afraid Aiden might hear it. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to ground again,” he says quietly, still looking away. “I’ve tried living in the human world and it doesn’t suit me. Not without…someone to share it with. And I’ve never liked the company of my own kind.” He clears his throat. “I was actually just about to enter my coffin for the final time tonight when I felt your distress. Now that I know you’re safe, I can go ahead with my plans.”

  I feel numb all over. “So…I guess this is goodbye.”

  “I guess so.” Aiden’s face is calm but his deep voice is hoarse. “I’m sorry for any pain I m
ay have caused you, Emma,” he says formally. “I hope…hope in time you may find it in your heart to forgive me. If I ever come out into the light again, I promise to look after your descendants and make sure they’re happy and safe.”

  “My descendants,” I whisper and I know he’s talking about sons and daughters I’ll have with some other man. The children that have nothing to do with him—with a vampire who’s nothing more than a footnote in my past. A distant memory of a love that never was.

  Suddenly there’s a lump in my throat that I can’t swallow and my eyes are stinging. “Excuse me,” I whisper brokenly. “I…the restroom. I need to—”

  “Of course,” Aiden says. “Help yourself.”

  But I’m already rushing past him, the tears stinging my eyes and my heart caught in a vise. He’s going. He’s leaving me. Leaving forever and if it hadn’t been for Sanchez coming around to murder me in my bed tonight, he never would have even come to say goodbye. I’ve done the stupidest thing a girl can do—I’ve allowed myself to fall for a man who cares nothing for me. I’ve given my heart away and now I can’t get it back.

  I run blindly through the mirrored maze of the house. Somehow I find myself not in the bathroom but in the study, surrounded by the rows of leather-bound books and facing the huge, mahogany desk that dominates half the room. I sink down and lean my cheek against its cool surface for a moment, my shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Whatever I do, I can’t let him hear me. I don’t want him to know that he’s hurt me this badly, don’t want him to guess how desperately I love him…

  “If you love him, go and claim him!”

  The witch-whisper in my head startles me so much I nearly scream. I jerk my head up off the desk and look from side to side, trying to see who’s talking to me. There’s no one there, though. Just the ancient copy of Farrow’s Handbook of Spells and Summonings, lying open on the desk blotter.