by F. E. Heaton
* * * *
Venturi leapt backwards when Prophecy shot into a sitting position, the needle still protruding from her neck. He went to remove it but she backed away from him, her eyes wide and full of fear. Holding his hands up, he waited for her to realise it was him and calm down, and then reached out towards her.
He carefully pulled the needle from her neck and placed it back in the box. He hadn't needed to watch her closely for a sign of panic. It hadn't been small or fleeting when it had come. She'd cried out in pain as though someone had run her through with a sword and had convulsed off the bed, throwing the covers aside and struggling against something. It had taken all of his strength to contain her enough to get the syringe into her neck and revive her.
He watched her breathing heavily and holding her neck. Her eyes were closed and she was trembling. Taking hold of the blanket, he wrapped it around her shoulders and covered her. She grabbed the edges of the blanket and huddled into it.
"Are you cold?” he asked and she looked at him with eyes that still betrayed how scared she had been.
Her pupils were dilated, making her dark brown irises even blacker, and her eyes were wide, showing white all around them. He sat down on the bed beside her and toyed with the corner of the blanket, giving his hands something to do so he didn't reach out to comfort her. He would only frighten her more and she didn't look as though she could take it.
"What did you see?” he said, trying to get her to speak. She just stared at him.
He wanted her to speak and allay his fears.
"Prophecy?” he whispered her name and her eyes grew wider.
"Valentine,” she said and he leaned back, placing distance between them.
His brows met, his eyes growing dark as he glared at her. He couldn't believe that she'd uttered the Aurorea's name in response to him. Could she even see it was him and not her precious hunter that was with her?
He went to move but she caught hold of his arm, her grip so tight that he couldn't have left her even if he'd really wanted to. He looked down at her hand and then up into her eyes. She'd come out of the blanket and was kneeling on the bed, leaning towards him. One hand held half of the covers over her while her other held his arm. He stared at her, resisting the temptation to drop his gaze to her nightdress. She was leaning over so much that he knew he'd be able to see straight down the black satin dress.
"Venturi?” she said and released his hand. He watched her look at herself as though she had only just come back to the world from her sleep and was surprised to find herself kneeling on the bed clutching his arm.
He didn't know what to say to her. She smiled the slightest amount, the corners of her mouth twitching almost imperceptibly, and gave him a coy look while she pulled the blanket closed around her. He noticed that the fear in her eyes had been replaced with a hint of awkwardness.
Leaving the bed, he returned to the chair he'd occupied while watching her for the eight hours she'd been sleeping.
"Are you all right?” he said and didn't wait for her to answer him. “I woke you the moment you seemed distressed. What did you see to make you react so violently?"
"Violently?” she asked, confusion evident in her expression and her voice.
"You literally leapt off the bed. I had to fight to pin you down so I could inject you with the antidote."
"Oh.” She blinked and lowered her gaze to the bed, staring distantly at the sheets. She was quiet for a few seconds and then frowned. “It wasn't what I saw ... I think it was what I felt."
"You were shivering. Were you cold?” He wondered if she remembered him asking her that when he'd given her the antidote. The way she nodded in a slow, calculated manner said that she didn't. She hadn't answered him last time.
"It was dark and there was so much pain. It felt as though someone or something was restraining me. I couldn't get free and it scared me. It was so cold, Venturi, and I felt so tired."
"It was probably just the drain of recent events and the drug that was making you feel tired and trapped."
"No.” She dismissed what he'd said with a shake of her head. “It was real. I know it was. Before my vision, I was in the same dark room and I felt numb, sleepy. After my vision, I returned to that dark place and I swear I felt something familiar, like a presence I should have known or a scent. There was something in it. It wasn't a part of my vision, but it was something that my heart wanted me to see."
He eyed her closely and thought about what she'd said. She was clutching her hand to her chest and through her fingers, he could see the glowing stone in her amulet. It was red now. When he'd seen it during the journey it had been purple, sometimes pale and other times dark, but he'd never seen it red. Her eyes dropped to it and she smiled. It had to mean something. The mark over her chest seemed to respond to it. Streaks of red pulsed around the black lines that made up the star and the symbols around it glowed faintly.
"What does it mean?"
"Valentine,” she whispered and held her hand up.
He was lost for words this time. All he could do was watch the red ribbons that were emanating from the stone. They intertwined with each other, looping together and forming the shape of something flat over her palm. It began to get clearer as more threads joined it and he at last realised that it was forming the shape of the symbol over her chest.
Moving over to the bed, he craned his neck to see it and then found he didn't have to. With a simple twitch of her fingers, she made the symbol move so it was standing on its end. It grew, doubling in size, and shining more brightly.
"I don't...” he started but trailed off when she held her hand up to silence him.
Looking at her face, he saw how hard she was concentrating. He hadn't realised that it took her so much effort to conjure up the magic, especially when it was something as simple as making it take on a shape. Was there something special that she was trying to do? Was she attempting to contact Valentine somehow? He wanted to ask her, but knew his question would be met with another gesture to silence him. He decided to risk it.
"What—"
"Silence!” She waved her hand and his eyes widened when his mouth continued to move but no sound came out.
He tried to speak and panicked when he found that he had no voice. Grasping his throat, he blinked in disbelief.
All he could do was watch her while she closed her eyes and made the symbol grow again. It was almost five times the size of the one over her chest now and he still couldn't see what she was trying to do.
He was stunned when she moved her hand and the magic symbol flattened against her palm.
"Speak to me,” she whispered and her breath seemed to make the magic shift, blowing it slightly and causing it to alter its shape. It flickered and danced, showing no sign of doing what she'd asked and then it moulded itself into a new shape. “Show me he's all right like you were trying to in my vision."
It took on the form of a man but remained red. Venturi recognised him as the one he'd met. His arms were strung out at his sides and he could see they were bound, but it was hard to make out any detail when the form remained nothing more than a glowing red shape.
"Valentine,” she breathed his name.
He was stunned when the form raised its head as though it had heard her.
"Stay strong.” She reached her hand out and ghosted it over the shape. He looked up at her when the magic flickered and faded for a brief moment. She swayed, her eyes closing for a split second. When they opened again, he could see the tiredness in them. Whatever she had done to conjure the image of the Aurorea, it was draining her of energy. She smiled when the figure above her palm struggled against its bonds. “I will find you. I promise I'll save you just as you saved me. My love..."
Venturi caught her when she collapsed and cradled her in his arms. Her head slumped against his chest and her right hand rested in his lap with her palm still facing upwards. The stone was dark purple again now and all sign of the magic was gone.
He brushed th
e hair from her face and held her, not surrendering his chance to finally have her in his arms.
When he'd been told that she was a powerful woman, he hadn't expected her to command the magic that he'd seen her use tonight. It had taken her so much effort, but she had managed to materialise a vision of the Aurorea just so she could reassure herself that he was safe and she had silenced himself with a single word. He moved his mouth, frowning when no words came out and wondering when he was going to regain his voice. He hoped that she knew how to remove the spell she'd placed on him.
Right now though, he didn't care.
He just wanted to make the most of having her so close to him.
Chapter 6
"I'm going to Paris.” Prophecy didn't let Mathias’ pointed look sway her decision. She had seen the witches and she knew where she had to go. Turning away so she wouldn't see his disapproval, she ended up face to face with Venturi. She added, “Alone."
Walking past them, she moved to the fireplace and stared into the unlit grate, letting the two men take in what she'd said.
She glanced at her amulet and sighed. What she had done had stolen every last drop of her energy, but it had been worth it. Now she knew that Valentine was still alive, and that the magic had been trying to show him to her, only it hadn't been a physical manifestation. She realised now that she'd been inside of him. She'd been feeling what he felt and seeing what he saw. It left no doubt in her mind that he was being tortured. The intense pain and fatigue had been his.
She still didn't know how she'd called up the image of him with her magic. She had wanted to see him so badly and had focused on that feeling of desperate need. The magic had understood her command and shown her what she'd asked.
One thing was obvious to her now. Valentine and the mark over her heart were linked. The witches had told her that the magic was strongest when her heart feared. It was strong when she was in danger, but when she feared for Valentine's safety, it was almost beyond her control. Now the mark over her chest had responded to her desire to see him again and had done its best to show him to her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Venturi was watching her. She'd scared herself when she'd commanded him to be silent and had stolen his voice. Her gaze moved back to the unlit fire but her thoughts remained with the Tenebrae. She had slept straight through to nightfall without any dream or vision after using her magic to see Valentine. When she had awoken, she'd found herself in Venturi's arms. At first, in her sleep fogged mind, she'd thought it was Valentine who was holding her. She hadn't known how to react on realising that the strong arms around her were actually Venturi's. It had felt comforting but she'd pushed him away, her heart aching at the thought of betraying Valentine in any way. She knew that Venturi didn't want to offer her comfort for nothing in return but comfort was the most she wanted from him.
It had taken her a few minutes to realise that he couldn't speak. She'd thrown wild accusations at him and had wondered why he didn't have the courage to respond to them. It was only when he'd curled his fist up and she'd seen the frustration in his eyes that she'd recalled what she'd done.
Curing him had taken her twenty minutes of solid concentration. She'd tried every command she could think of to get him to speak again; even Venturi had scribbled down suggestions on a piece of paper. The moment she'd wanted to give up, he'd found his voice. She couldn't even remember what she'd said. She wished that the magic had a guidebook or something she could read in order to learn how to use it. Stumbling across spells and commands wasn't the quickest method of learning and she couldn't recall now what she'd done to make him silent in the first place.
"Prophecy?"
She turned and looked at Venturi who was now standing only a few feet from her. In his eyes, she could see the reason he'd come over and what he wanted to say.
"My mind's made up. I'll follow my vision and go to Paris to see the Three.” She walked away from the fireplace and came to stand in front of him. “The other part of my vision, the main part, I've thought about it so much and I think I know where I need to go and what I'll find there."
"Where is it you saw?” His voice was dangerously low, making her feel as though their conversation was intimate when it wasn't. Mathias was a part of what she had to say and she needed him to know where she was going in case someone needed to contact her.
"It was a church on a hill. There were Nocens. I think I fought them."
"The stronghold of the Nocens bloodline is—"
"Budapest,” she said, cutting Venturi off and showing him that although she was young, she'd spent her years well. “I know all about the seven pure bloodlines, or at least I thought I did."
The flicker of a frown that crossed his face said he knew what she'd meant by her words. She had thought she knew all about the Tenebrae, but Mathias had proven her different by mentioning that Venturi's bloodline had a tendency to torment their victims. She'd never heard of such a thing, but it didn't mean that it wasn't possible. She had seen vampires take pleasure in inflicting pain and she herself had got immense satisfaction from feeling the heightened fear in her prey before she'd killed them. It was what drove her on, making her want to kill and feed. It wasn't all about blood and her need for it in order to survive. It was about the way it made her feel when she felt that fear, when she tasted it in their scent and their blood.
"You will go to Budapest then?” Mathias asked.
She nodded, leaving her dark thoughts behind. Moving across the room to him, she looked down at the half of the prophecy that they had recovered. Beside it was a pad, the visible page of which was covered in scrawled notes.
"I'll need a passport. Is it too short notice?” She remembered that Valentine had told her he'd been working on short notice when he'd got her passport and he'd only managed to get one that vaguely looked like her. Mathias had said he could get her a passport with her own picture in it. She wondered how long that would take. It sounded as though it might take days or weeks, and she didn't have that much time.
She smiled to herself when she thought about how different her life used to be. She had spent hours watching television or reading in the library, trapped inside the mansion with nothing to do but while away the hours. Now she was in a constant hurry and it seemed the clock never stopped ticking. Every time she thought she'd have a reprieve, something else came up to make her busy and stole away any relaxation time.
"I shall do my best. I have contacted the man who will be able to assist you and he was due to come here tonight. I am sure he will be by soon,” Mathias said.
Her eyes widened. “He isn't...?"
"He will not report your whereabouts. He is very much like myself. He has no interest in the matters of his bloodline."
"Just out of curiosity, what bloodline is he?"
When Mathias had first mentioned his contact, she'd presumed he would be an Aurorea, but something about the way Mathias had spoken just now made her wonder if he was.
"He is not of a pure bloodline."
"A weakling?” Venturi said exactly what she had been thinking.
"The lower bloodline has no interest in what is happening within the seven pure bloodlines.” Mathias removed his glasses, folded them neatly and placed them down on the table. “It isn't a problem is it?"
"No, not at all.” She smiled in an attempt to reassure him. “I've just never met one before."
Venturi didn't look as pleased. She could see in his heavy brow and dark eyes that he would rather not be present when Mathias’ contact showed up. Walking across to him, she placed her hand on his arm and looked up into his eyes. His frown melted away, his blue eyes lightened and his lips twitched into a half-smile.
"Will you do something for me?” she said and tried to stop her voice from trembling. There was a chance he could take her request the wrong way, but there was an equal chance that he would appreciate her giving him a reason to be out when the man arrived.
He nodded and placed his hand over hers.
She swallowed.
"Anything,” he whispered. “I am yours to command."
She kept the frown from her face on hearing those words and the way he'd spoken them with so much emotion. A thrill had run up her spine, making her regret touching his arm because it had clearly brought her request onto an intimate level.
"You haven't fed in a few days and I'll be leaving soon for Paris. I won't have time to feed. Could you...?"
"As you wish.” He released her hand only to capture it again and bring it to his lips. Staring into her eyes, he pressed a kiss to it.
Watching him leave, she realised that her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were wide with shock over how he'd acted. She really had to start thinking about what she was doing before acting. She had grown sorely used to being with Valentine and had forgotten how easily people could mistake kindness for something else. Her and Valentine had been on such close terms that she'd never stood on ceremony around him and her attraction to him had meant she'd always been subconsciously trying to find a way to drop their conversations and touches to an intimate level.
She had to remember that she couldn't act like that with Venturi. He was already getting the wrong idea about her feelings. If she continued this way, he was going to prove a problem when Valentine came back, and she needed all the warriors she could get.
Especially now that Dmitri had withdrawn his army.
When she rescued Valentine, they were going to need to find a new army.
One they could command together.
* * * *
Prophecy stared at the little picture of herself. She really looked like that? She ran her fingers through her hair, watching the dark locks shimmering in the low light and remembering how hard it had been for her to keep still while Mathias’ contact had been taking her picture. The flash had been so bright that the first few times she'd instinctively switched into vampire guise, her eyes protecting themselves by changing into their opaque state. The man had laughed each time, making her feel incredibly self-conscious. She'd done her best to not react and after thirty minutes of attempting to get a picture good enough for the passport, they had succeeded.