by Basia Pike
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“I want to know why your coven murdered my wife and unborn child.”
She looked at me blankly. “Who are you?” she asked.
“You know who I am!” My voice raised.
She quivered. “I don’t know who you are.”
“Do you know Alexandra Tully?” I asked.
A torn look flashed into her eyes. “Of course, she’s the leader of our coven.”
“So, you must know about the murder your coven orchestrated six months ago.” Her face dropped.
I got the feeling she knew what I was talking about. “Who ordered it?” I asked.
She was silent in what I felt was defiance.
“Dolore,” I said, and she began to writhe in agony, as much as she could with the metal chains holding her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. My silencing spell was working.
I pulled the hip flask in my pocket out and took a long swig of bourbon. I staggered a little to one side. I stopped the spell and walked towards her.
“Did you have a hand in my wife’s death?” I asked.
She stared at me again defiantly.
“Dolore.” She writhed again in agony. I tortured her for longer this time. When I stopped her whole body went limp. Her eyes lolled in the back of her head as she passed out.
I rolled my eyes. For God’s sake!
I checked her pulse and my eyes widened. There was no pulse. What have I done?
“Nolite restringere,” I chanted, and the lady’s chains were released. I crouched over her on the floor and uttered the healing spell “Sana.” I pumped my hands over her heart, and her color returned instantly. I let go of the breath I’d been holding in.
I stood up my face in my hands. What is happening to me? She was still lying unconscious on the floor. I paced the small alleyway waiting for her to wake.
She regained consciousness, bolting upright and staring at me with wide eyes.
I gulped. “I asked you a question,” I said.
“I don’t know who ordered the murder,” she said. I didn’t buy it. Her dark brown eyes revealed her lie.
I took another swig of bourbon. “Don’t lie to me!” I shouted. She started and jumped to her feet. Before I could react, she’d taken off back towards the main street.
Damn it! I sprinted after her, but the effects of the alcohol in my system slowed me down. By the time I made it to the main street she was nowhere to be seen.
I crumpled to the floor in a heap. I’d been searching for someone from the infamous Tenebras coven for months, and finally I’d found one of them, only for them to slip through my fingers.
With a heavy heart, I headed for my regular bar, Joe’s Tap, only a five-minute walk away. Alexa stood behind the bar, wiping it down. She looked like she was getting ready to call it a night.
“Are you closing?” I asked.
She looked up and gave me a brilliant smile. “Hey, Jason! I wondered where you were. I’ll stay open for you,” she said. Jason Williams was the name I’d adopted ever since leaving Minnesota. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t miss my old life. “What would you like?”
“Usual,” I said.
“Coming up.”
Despite my increasingly haggard appearance, it seemed Alexa had a soft spot for me. Perhaps she was intrigued by my story. She was twenty-two years old, the same age as me, and had dark brown wavy hair.
I knew I wasn’t an ugly man, but I hadn’t exactly been taking care of myself over the past six months, so I couldn’t understand why she flirted with me. To be honest, I didn’t really care.
She set down a glass of bourbon, and I handed her some cash. I wasn’t in the mood for chatting and silence fell between us. I could feel Alexa watching me with pity as I drowned my sorrows. It was quiet with no other patrons. I glanced at my watch and it was only ten o’clock.
I’d been drinking a lot over the past six months. But, without alcohol to numb the pain I couldn’t stand it. Today I’d drunk more than I should. I could feel myself swaying slightly on my stool.
“Another, please,” I said, and Alexa’s eyes narrowed in reluctance. However, she did as I said and poured me another large bourbon. I knocked it back at speed.
The door to the bar swung open, but I was too engrossed in my drink to notice.
“I’m sorry sir, we are about to close,” Alexa said, in her friendly, carefree tone. It wasn’t until Alexa’s smile faltered and she took a step backward that I glanced behind me.
The man was wearing an unusual-looking brown cloak over a fancy suit.
I swayed a little on my stool, almost losing my balance. If this guy was going to be trouble, I wasn’t sure I would be much help.
“Sir, can I help you?” she asked, her tone shaky. We weren’t in the best part of town. She began to back away from the bar, reaching down behind it for her shotgun, so I knew it was bad.
“Sir, did you hear me? The bar is closing.” That was the last straw. I knew I had to do something, so I stood up and turned around to face him.
“Are you deaf?” I asked the man, my words slurring a little, my vision blurred.
“No, I’m not here for a drink. I’m here to speak with you, Elijah,” he said in a calm tone, his accent was European.
My entire body tensed. No one knew me as Elijah since I left my life behind in Minnesota. I tried to squint to focus on his face. Did I know this guy? His voice wasn’t familiar. I glanced back at Alexa, who relaxed but gave me a puzzled look.
“I’m Jason not Elijah. Who are you?” I asked.
He continued to advance toward me. I backed away toward the bar. Alexa came out to join me, the shotgun in her hands.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”
“Help me? Who said I needed help?”
“Please put the shotgun down, Miss,” the stranger said. “I just wish to speak with your patron.” She lowered the weapon.
I eyed the man. He had to be in his early forties, had light brown short hair parted on one side, a trimmed beard and mustache, and wore glasses. I didn’t recognize him. I’d definitely never seen him before, or at least not while I was sober. Alexa eyed the two of us and then went into the back of the bar.
“Why are you looking for me?” I asked.
“You’re Elijah Abbott, are you not?” he asked.
My heart skipped a beat. I was ready to hit this guy with a curse and make a run for it. No one knew my real name down in New Orleans, so he had to be law enforcement. I remained silent.
The best option was to use my magic to incapacitate him momentarily. “Restringere,” I muttered under my breath, but nothing happened.
“Magic is no use to you against me.” He walked towards the bar and sat on the stool next to me.
I scowled at him. “Are you an Immunis?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not exactly, I have an important task for you.”
I frowned. “A task?”
“Yes, one I want you to complete for me.” he said.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” I said, feeling relieved he wasn’t law enforcement.
“I need Elijah Abbott for this task, and that’s you.”
How does this guy know who I am?
“Do I know you?”
“Not yet, but I know you.”
“What do you want?”
“You’re very important to the survival of humanity. Once you hear me out then I’m sure you will agree to join.”
How could this guy be immune to my powers?
“I can help you seek the revenge you crave,” Andre said.
My hand tightened on my glass at the mention of revenge. I was starting to get irritated at how much he knew about my life. “What do you know about that?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“I know that you’re at a loss, struggling to locate the witches that took everything from you. And, I’m telling you that I have the key to locating them. If
you help me first.” This guy had my interest, but putting my pursuit for revenge on hold wasn’t something I was willing to do.
“I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” I necked the rest of my bourbon and rapped my fingers on the bar.
Where the hell has Alexa gone?
“Don’t make the decision tonight. Sleep on it.” He stood and left me sitting in the bar wondering what exactly had happened. I focused on a bottle of bourbon behind the bar and chanted ‘trahere’. The bottle didn’t move.
This guy has taken my damn powers! I bolted to my feet and rushed out into the street which was deserted. There was no sign of the stranger whose name I didn’t even know.
It didn’t seem right. It would take an entire coven to bind the powers of even a juvenile witch.
8
I woke the next morning to the sound of someone knocking my door. I groaned as the light streamed into my bedroom through the tattered old curtains. Whoever was at the door was persistent as the knocking continued. I rolled over and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to Twelve.
With a sigh, I pulled myself out of bed and dodged around the litter on my floor to the chair in the corner. I grabbed my jumper from the day before off the chair and pulled it on.
“Hold on!” I shouted. The knocking was giving me a headache. My shouts didn’t seem to help as whoever it was continued. I opened the door grinding my teeth together. The stranger from the night before was standing there.
What the hell is up with this guy?
My heart thudded in my chest and my hands shook. This man had essentially stolen my magic and had the audacity to come knocking on my door.
My eyes narrowed. “Are you here to return my magic?” I asked.
“No, but I must speak with you.”
I folded my arms across my chest. There was no way I was letting this guy in my apartment.“What have you done to my powers?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I bound them, and until you hear me out you won’t get them back.” The man held an odd-looking device in his hands and threw it from one hand to the other. “May I come in?” Andre asked. I glared at him and shook my head. “No?”
What is this guy, an Idiot? “No,” I reiterated.
With a wave of his hand the door slipped out of my grip and he walked in. He hadn’t chanted any incantations. I stared at him in wander. His nosed turned up and he looked around in disgust.
No one ever came into my apartment. I must admit it was disgusting, but revenge was a full-time job for me these past six months. It’s not like I took a break to clean. There was unwashed laundry piled high, dirty plates and old takeaway containers littered all over the floor. I would imagine it stank, but I was used to it by now.
I hung my head. “Who are you?”
He tore his eyes away from my apartment and glanced at me. “My name is Andre.”
I stared at him expecting him to elaborate who exactly he was. “Are you a witch?”
“Not as such, but I have magical powers.”
“What do you want?” I asked.
He looked around as if trying to find somewhere he could sit down. “How about I take you to my favorite restaurant and we can talk about it?” He asked. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
Can I trust this guy to go anywhere with him? The truth was he didn’t leave me with much choice considering he had bound my powers. I felt odd. Be it only for an evening, having no powers felt like I was missing a limb.
“Fine, I’ll hear you out. I need to get some pants on though.”
Andre nodded, and watched me closely as I headed for the bedroom, which was just as disgusting. A pair of old black trousers lay strewn on the same chair. I wasn’t sure when they were last washed, and I didn’t care.
I returned to the man standing in my living room.
“Let get going,” he said. With a heavy sigh, I followed Andre out into Bourbon Street. Andre lead the way down the avenue. The French Quarter was always busy, populated with many people of all walks of life. He stopped outside a small pizza restaurant and entered.
There was only one other occupied table, a family sitting and eating together. It was quiet considering how many people were outside. We were seated by the hostess.
“Can I take your drinks order?” she asked, looking at me first.
“A bourbon, please…”
“No, two glasses of water, please.”
“But—”
“Water please,” Andre said, smiling at the waitress. She nodded and walked away with haste.
“I wish to discuss the matter with a clear head,” Andre said.
I folded my arms across my chest. I wasn’t sure what to make of this man, but denying me my bourbon didn’t make me like him any more.
“I need you sober, and on the straight and narrow if you’re going to carry out the task.”
The lady came back with two glasses and a jug of water on a tray. She placed them down on the table and took our food order.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked, gripping my glass of water begrudgingly and glancing towards the bar, where a bottle of bourbon was calling my name.
“Yes, where to start? Ah, I know. You asked if I am a witch, and I told you not as such. I do hold magical abilities, but I’m not of the same descent as you.”
Andre looked at me almost expectantly. I wondered if I was supposed to know what he was then, but I remained quiet. When he didn’t elaborate, I questioned him.
“Am I supposed to know what you are?”
“Clearly you don’t. You have been chosen by a high power to help protect humankind.”
I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
“No, Elijah Abbott, you are the only one who can take on this task.”
“Why me?”
“You’re a powerful witch who has been through a fair share of pain and suffering. It’s time for you to find your calling and be part of something bigger than yourself.” I was already part of something. How could I just leave my quest for revenge and put it on hold?
“What’s it you want me to do?” I asked. I decided the only way to get my powers back was to hear him out, even if I had no intention of accepting his deal.
“Where to start … you must be aware of the history of vampires, witches, and werewolves, and how each species came to be?”
“Of course.” It had been drilled into me at a young age, particularly as my father was a vampire.
“The Creaturae, a large gemstone, was used by the Cureliva to create humans thousands of years ago. Unfortunately, an evil, power-hungry group of people have been recently searching for it. They believe they can use the gemstone to end humans for good.”
I knew there were some evil vampires about, but I didn’t know they were that evil.
“Where is the Creaturae?”
“If I knew that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It’s been lost for thousands of years.”
“This group you talk about, are they vampires?” I asked, and he shook his head.
“The leaders are but most of the army are human.”
I scowled. That made no sense.
“I know what you’re thinking. Why would humans help destroy their own kind? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself.
The only reason I can think is that vampires have kept them in the dark on the true reason they are searching for the Creaturae.” Vampires were deceitful and dishonest. “Some may even by hoping that the vampires will turn them,” Andre added.
“Is that even possible?” I asked. There was folklore on humans being turned to vampires, but from what I’d read it wasn’t like the stories. You couldn’t be bitten by one and turn into a vampire.
“I believe so but it requires dark magic.” The waitress came back with our food and flashed me a smile as she set down my pepperoni pizza in front of me.
The decadent smell assaulted my nostrils. “So, what exactly is it you want me to do?” I pick
ed up a slice and bit into the delicious thin Italian style pizza.
“There’s a place we can travel to which exists outside of time using magic. It’s an alternate dimension which we use as a base to travel into the past. Unfortunately, the Kugarar, which means oppressors in my native language, Icelandic, also have access to the same magic. They’re trying to use it to find the Creaturae.”
My entire body froze, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. This man was talking about time-travel, something no witch was capable of. The first thing that crossed my mind was the possibility of going back in time and saving Jo.
“I know what you’re thinking, and no you can’t save Jo.”
How the hell does he know what I’m thinking?
“The truth is there are rules to time travel. Your role will only be to research and find the whereabouts of the Creaturae. Under no circumstances can you change any aspect of the past, as it will have catastrophic repercussions.” My shoulder dropped. I had hope, be it only for a moment.
“If the Creaturae will obliterate humans, then what will happen to witches and werewolves?” I asked.
“All beings of magic will be immune to the effects. However, billions of people will die if you can’t stop them.” I scowled at him unsure what to make of this story.
“Do we have any idea where this gemstone is?”
“No, the last known whereabouts have been searched. There were a group of people dedicated to protecting it. However, they were all killed by the Kugarar a hundred years ago.”
He seemed to be skating around the issue. “You still haven’t explained what I would need to do,” I said.
“I want you to lead a team I’ve put together. A team that will dedicate themselves to preventing the Kugarar from succeeding. It will be called the Verndarar, which means protectors in my native language. But first, you will need to visit your potential second-in-command.”
It was all too much to take in. “My what?” I asked.
“Your second-in-command. It’s the only position we’ve yet to fill.”
I took a bite of my pizza. “Who is this person?” I asked.