Death's Primordial Kiss (The Silvered Moon Diaries Book 1)

by Romarin Demetri

  “What?” She asked.

  “That’s kind of your thing.”

  “Helaine, I do not have a type.”

  “I’ve known you your whole life,” I said, and her mouth straightened into a line and her face was pink again. “So, I’m not supposed to say anything until dinner tonight, but O’Callaghan submitted another report of Moon appearing. It’s a murder mystery dinner tonight.”

  And sure enough, Gregory dove into the case the second we sat down to dinner that night.

  “Eat, sleep, breathe the Coven, and sometimes that includes discussing the murders of fellow witches.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Stan and I together. I stopped eating my garden veggies and looked over at him.

  “We might be more alike than you think,” he warned.

  “There’s a girl who is stealing things on the outskirts of London. She’s stealing to live, not profit, and no one gets hurt because businesses are closed when she goes. Who thinks this is actually Moon?” Gregory asked.

  Rose, Stan and I raised our hands.

  “Majority rules,” Gregory said. “We will pursue this further and visit all known locations of her crimes.”

  Eeeeeek! My thoughts squealed like turning gears, and unfortunately, Stan heard me and flashed me one of those smoldering pensive looks he was so capable of. I sipped on my beer after sending him a sarcastic smile.

  “How is your integration?” Maddi asked me.

  “Well, Gregory’s beer tastes like nothing… I mean, everything tastes like nothing with my drops… but at least it doesn’t affect the alcohol content.”

  “I’m sorry, love,” Maddi said. “You’ll be able to sort things out eventually. I know it’s a lot. I’d be sad if I couldn’t taste red wine or my grandma’s scones.”

  “Pumpkin pie…” I lamented.

  My attainment was more like a trial.

  “That was just one elixir. There are others they might work better,” Gregory said.

  I didn’t know why I was feeling so disheartened when I had a magic room at my disposal. I was bordering on betraying water, forsaking my integration after wanting it for weeks. Magic had a mind of its own, and wouldn’t always do what we wanted. What I needed to remember now was that I was only one of five in the Coven, and had a chance that others would kill for. They already had.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Spring Equinox

  Rose

  I was still in a burning heap of trouble from my dreams, but the more vivid they were, the more I remembered them, and I could pull the feelings they gave me out to help my fire. Even with my best efforts, the dreams were widely unpredictable.

  I finally got around to reading the books Stan had cleared for me, and those seemed to help too.

  I had read through three and saved the last one that had no cover text for last. I expected it to be full of advanced dark, diabolical magic.

  I skipped the intro of A Fire Witch’s Repertoire and leafed through to find the diagrams of energy pathways and illustrations to break up the text. I wanted to know what I was in for.

  What I saw were diagrams of people. Two people. It didn’t make sense. It seemed to be a book on various body positions, and then, I understood.

  I held in my hands a book on ritualistic sex. Are you kidding me?

  I closed it, betraying my curiosity. I had no need for it at the moment, and our ritual was about to start anyway. I dressed in a coral-colored sundress that clung tightly to my body. It felt more like a nightgown, but to me, it was appropriate for spring.

  I met the Coven outside this time, to perform our second ritual for the change of seasons. Spring lit a spark in me. My morning rituals—from opening my eyes to looking forward to my morning coffee—had a certain vividness to them, and the best way to explain it was that I was more awake than I had been in the past few months. Humidity held to the air, and while our inset compass rose was dry, you could still tell that earlier today, rain had washed away the reminders of winter.

  “Merry Ostara!” Maddi greeted.

  Instead of using the ritual cloth, we set candles on our compass rose that was inlaid to the garden.

  “I call upon earth to bless our circle as we celebrate the elements of wood and earth.” He lit his candle.

  “I invite the eastern element of air to protect our circle,” Maddi said in lighting her candle.

  “May fire make way for the spring, as the hardships of winter end new life springs forth.” I looked at my candle to set it alight and could feel how impressed everyone was. Just then, a surge of energy pulsed from the ground to surround me. “Fire has chosen me…” I was compelled to speak. The energy settled within me.

  “Blessed be,” Maddi, Gregory, and Stan said.

  “West invites the gentle and forceful element of water to our circle,” Helaine said, and as she did so, I could tell she felt the energy from the earth envelope her. “Water has chosen me,” she said with swelling pride.

  “It is the season of earth. Allow our harvest to take root within your plentiful soil,” Gregory said. We all lit white candles to place at our feet, and Stan placed his in the middle of the circle.

  We brought our new seeds and foliage from last year outside and planted them in the ground, keeping our circle open. Gregory played harpsichord music from his watch.

  We wrote our wishes for the rebirth of the seasons on slips of paper and burned them within the flames of our candles. To close the circle, we passed a silver candle snuffer clockwise.

  At dinner that night, I snuck another glass of wine to prepare myself to confront my mentor about the book that I had nicknamed in my head, The Boudoir Repertoire. I seriously should have been the one naming these things.

  When Stan was about to leave for the night, I cornered him at the foot of the stairs.

  “Stan, real quick before you go… why did you give me that book?” I asked.

  “What book?”

  “A Fire Witches Repertoire.”

  “I haven’t read that one yet. Show me.”

  We walked to my room, the scene of my brand new nightmares. I handed the book to him, averting my eyes. Why hadn’t he read it before he cleared it for me?

  “Oh, yeah.” He flipped to the next page. “I think this was an accident. These are pretty powerful spells, and advanced in every way.”

  “Is this some kind of hazing?”

  “No, we save that for when we teleport for the first time.”

  “In that case, maybe you should put in back in your library,” I said, pursing my lips into a smile and feeling pinker than I’d like to.

  “I apologize. It was with the rest of the fire texts and it’s not like I imagined you doing those spells when I accidentally added it to the reading list. I suppose you’d actually be that flexible—”

  “Stan!” I yelled. It wouldn’t have been that bad if I wasn’t flexible. I could totally do all of it. Oh, goddess, who was I?

  “I’m sorry again?” He looked up at me with the book still open, and clearly thought he was being perfectly innocent about the whole thing.

  “Not if you don’t mean it,” I warned.

  Out of nowhere, the velvety brown throw pillow on my chaise caught fire, and the smoke detector in the hallway went off.

  Without thinking I threw my right hand up and iced it over, coating the burnt fabric in a sheet of snow. I flew over to inspect the damage in the corner of my room, and the entire chaise was a wet mess of azure and midnight.

  I looked over to my mentor, who slid the red book onto my bed.

  “You should hold onto it, really, but if I need it back I know where to look.”

  He smirked, leaving me gapping in front of my wet chaise as he left the room.

  I had seen that look on his face, weeks ago, when he talked about stealing the hot water. I was pretty sure that I was the only one he ever gave it to. I’d have to watch him closely to be sure.

  Was he testing me? Could I trust him?

  I resolve
d to sit on my bed and frown as the deafening noise from the smoke detector quit.

  I opened the book, knowing I should at least read the intro.

  There were some helpful passages in the front of the book about channeling power, basics I should know. All I knew at this point was that Rose Avereis would never dream peacefully again.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Dark Witch

  Helaine

  I went with Gregory to meet with O’Callaghan and discuss the Moon sightings, and my first visit to the human police station was not exactly going well. Being designated as supernatural investigators was practically forced upon us when the underground decided the witches were the most qualified and shouldn’t hide anymore. I could thank my family for that. What I could thank myself for, was the heated row I got into with “Kenny” about Moon being a good witch.

  “So this girl is one of the good guys when she’s showing up in human crimes?” O’Callaghan had a stern, yet controlled voice, that nearly reminded me of Rose’s dad. If Kenny actually talked to his kids, that voice would come in handy.

  “She’s trying to live and stay off of the grid,” I defended her. “She’s not hurting anyone. Anyone who is insured.”

  “My point exactly.” I hated when people said that. It was a total manipulation move. “A crime is a crime. Laurence, you might be too invested in this case.”

  If O’Callaghan knew I felt guilty about the Halloran murders, all of London probably did as well. Rose had warned me he was incredibly in tune with reading people.

  “As witches, we are all invested when a family is massacred like that.”

  “Just don’t do anything stupid,” Kenny said. “I did when I was younger and trying to prove myself as a police officer. It’s easy to get carried away.”

  “Onyx and Gregory won’t let that happen,” I vouched.

  “True,” Gregory agreed. “Earth witches are nurtures, and we need people around to nurture.”

  “There might be a target on your back,” Kenny warned me.

  “I was practically brought home from the hospital in a bulls-eye onesie,” I retorted.

  “I think you had something to do with the Halloran’s murder,” Kenny fired back.

  “Excuse me, O’Callaghan.”

  Gregory shot me a look to back down. I had to listen, and I wanted to listen to him.

  “I said, I think you getting in instead of Moon caused this.”

  It was okay for me to think it, but for anyone else to? No. No fucking way.

  “Enlighten me then. I’m here to listen.”

  My pride tasted acidic and sour, even though I had taken drops this morning.

  “I think Moon was a pawn in someone else’s game. I think someone meant to get her into the Coven and manipulate her. I think that when the Coven chose you instead, that she was marked for death.”

  “There was a period of time in between me winning and her death. Explain that.”

  Kenny O’Callaghan’s lips flattened into a straight line. Gregory was silent too.

  “Fair point,” Gregory spoke for both of them. “That’s a link we should look into.”

  “There might not be a link though,” I reminded them. “Look, I’ll watch my back. You know I can hold my own. If anything strange happens or someone is following me, you’ll be the first to know,” I said to Kenny.

  “Just be careful, Laurence.”

  I nodded as if I planned on it, but Kenny had no idea who he was talking to.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Social Rules

  Rose

  The next afternoon I was in my room re-reading a book on different fire techniques. My ring was far too advanced for the level I was at. Maybe it was good that my power was greater than my prowess, as long as I refrained from setting anyone else on fire.

  I had managed to calm myself down and actually got some sleep that night, unable to remember any of my dreams when I woke the next morning. It was a new week full of independent study, but we hadn’t had a lesson yet. I hoped Stan wasn’t still angry about the ring of fire, and I certainly hoped that he wouldn’t bring up the book.

  A knock followed by “Avereis” sounded outside my bedroom door, and I grumbled.

  “Yes, Stan?” I yelled through the closed door, far too comfortable in my chair to get up.

  “I just knocked at your door.”

  Classic Stan.

  I’m obeying a social rule I have observed before. It means that you should open the door.

  I stood and flung open my unlocked door.

  “Sometimes people just want to be by themselves,” I explained kindly, unblinking, try my best not to be annoyed.

  “I’m not angry at you for the ring of fire,” he told me.

  “Did… did you get burnt? Tell me the truth.”

  Stan rolled up his sleeve to show me his right arm. I felt both aroused and relieved when I saw that his tight and toned forearm hadn’t been burned through the sweatshirt. He seemed alright after the fire happened, but it hadn’t come up again until now.

  “I think I need to understand you more.”

  “You consulted Onyx about me, didn’t you?” I asked with a half-smile, finally realizing that even Stan needed help sometimes.

  “Yes, of course.” I saw a genuine smile befall his lips at the mention of his mentor. Onyx might have been Stan and his older brother’s primary caretaker, but he was definitely more like a cool uncle than a nanny. There were only a few occasions I saw joy on Stan’s face, and the mention of his family seemed to make it appear. The other times were in my dreams, which I was trying not to focus on. “I wanted to see your room.”

  “My room?” I asked, glancing around, remembering the dream I had the night before. “Why my room?”

  “It should say a lot about you, and I don’t suppose I know enough.”

  “I think I’m pretty transparent,” I said, as he walked in my room.

  “Not to me,” he said, earnestly looking me in the eye. I wished he wouldn’t.

  I glanced at the floor remembering the feeling of his lips on mine in the dream, wondering if that’s what they really felt like. I could do without my heartbeat in my throat, or his dark eyelashes that brought out the obsidian parts of his otherwise sage-colored eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” they asked—he asked, green irises narrowing. “You look like you’re trying not to think.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “No harm was done. So what is a typical day like for you?”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re half of my day, Stan.” And night?

  “What?”

  Shit.

  “Speak out loud.”

  “Never mind.” I shook my head knowing I had to be more careful. “Well, I wake up, drink water, take a shower, and head downstairs. Sometimes I read in that chaise or at my desk, but mostly, I’m with you. All day.”

  “Perhaps the problem is that we don’t go places or do things as peers,” Stan said. Even though he was studying my room, Stan didn’t touch anything. Helaine, Maddi, and I had painted the walls a calming suede-textured brown. My bedding and furniture were a mix of blues, including the tulle canopy above my bed that trapped soft twinkle lights in its netting.

  “That’s fair to say. You seem to be friends with Maddi and Gregory.”

  “As I’ve said, they know me. We know each other and we understand each other. We’re friends. I don’t know you or Helaine as well. Let’s go do something. I need to go shopping, care to go with?”

  “If this is an exercise I don’t have a choice. And what does Stan buy?” I asked.

  “I need shampoo. Your Aunt Jen’s shop?”

  “I forgot you go there.”

  “It’s the best place—and the only place. No one else would dare open up the same kind of shop in Block Thirteen. Plus I choose what I get because no one sends me free things. I’m like a ghost.”

  I never thought about it that way, but his gift power was all ab
out freedom.

  “How do you know that I call her Aunt Jen?”

  “I listen. That’s why I don’t talk much. You have a complicated family.”

  “That is fair. My parents are loyal to their friends, especially after all they went through together. I know it seems hard to follow, but I’ve had nineteen years to practice.”

  “My family is small,” Stan shared. “I know it seems big and overbearing, but it’s really just me and Eddy.”

  “Why doesn’t he come over?” I asked.

  “Oh, I do see him, but he doesn’t come here much. You ready to go?”

  “Let me grab my coat,” I said back.

  We embarked to Block Thirteen, and I wondered what people would say about me hanging out with Stan alone. I then remembered that the media didn’t care much about him, and any headline would be my own.

  The block always got busier when the evening neared.

  We wandered into Aunt Jen’s shop and the scents of everything hit me all at once. It smelled like oatmeal, soap, and spices. Today, blueberry and cinnamon held to the air extra strong. She had two other locations outside of Block Thirteen, but they were in London and didn’t carry such a huge variety of products.

  As soon as the bell on the door chimed, I peered through the wooden palette shelves to see if I could find her face. She wasn’t at this location much.

  “Rose,” she called melodically, and Stan didn’t correct her for using the wrong name for me. We walked over to the shelf she was rearranging. “And who is this?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “Stan,” I said firmly.

  “Wonderful to meet you,” Jen said. To his contentment, her hands were stacked with bar soap as he greeted her back. “He’s in the Coven?”

  “Yes. It’s a magical thing that doesn’t let you remember,” I said. “He’s secretive.”

  “Cute too,” she said, worrying me, but he didn’t notice, having disappeared somewhere into the store.

  “Aunt Jen, he’s my mentor,” I made clear.

  “Oh, sorry Audin,” she teased.