Witch Road to Take

by April M. Reign

  “What do you mean?”

  “I heard that Father was going to leave you here, in your room, until your twenty-first birthday in two weeks.”

  “Why?”

  “That was my question as well, so I poked around, pulling in favors to get information about Father’s plans.”

  “And?”

  “And for the most part, no one is talking.”

  My shoulders dropped.

  “But I found a warlock who said he knows a powerful yet young wizard who could help us.”

  “Help us? Damien, please get to the point.”

  “This warlock said that we can trust this wizard as much as we can trust each other.”

  “Warlocks aren’t a reliable source. Do you believe him?”

  “He’s a reliable source. Trust me. If he betrayed us, he’d have to answer to me. And he knows what his fate would be.”

  “I’ve always found warlocks to be masters of lies.”

  “Dhellia, he wasn’t lying to me.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “The second thing he told me was that your fate is sealed on your twenty-first birthday.”

  “My fate is sealed? What in Father’s home does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me more than that. He’s powerful and he’s agreed to help me get you out of here.”

  “No matter where I run, Father will find me.” My words were almost a surrender of sorts.

  “Not with the help of that powerful wizard. No one in Father’s kingdom will know where you are. I can promise you that.”

  “So, what are we waiting for? I’m ready to go.”

  I decided that I’d trust my brother and his questionable contact. The last thing I wanted was to hide from my father, but I’d be damned—ha!—if I would let him trap me down in the dungeon cell that he called my bedroom for two weeks until my fate would apparently be sealed on my birthday. He had control over many lives, but he didn’t need control over mine, too.

  “It’s not time. I’ll come back for you when it’s time to move you, but right now, you have to wait.”

  “What if Father comes back?”

  “He won’t. He’s busy with a serial killer’s soul who accidently gassed himself when he was trying to kill his victim. Father’s seeing to his trial by fire and then he’ll personally usher him to the acid pit.”

  I cringed and cocked my head, waiting for him to tell me how long that might actually take. My patience was surely running out and my brother seemed to be stalling on the information. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

  “You’ve got a day or so. I’ll be back and you’ll be gone before he even notices that you’re no longer here.”

  “If he finds out that you helped me…”

  “Don’t worry.” Damien came to my side and placed the back of his hand against the side of my cheek.

  With me, Damien was always gentle, but evil dwelled inside my brother and his human love interests were not always so lucky. Many of the women he’d bedded had seen his pure evil thrust to the surface and dominate him. Anyone who encountered that side of him was a mental wreck afterward. I was happy to be his sister. I pitied the ones who fell for him. Literally.

  When my brother disappeared from my bedroom, I sat down at my desk and turned on my laptop. My desktop wallpaper was of a happier time. Two years ago when Damien and I had spent the day at Disneyland, we had taken a picture together. Damien rarely stood in front of a camera willingly, but this had been one of those rare times.

  My cursor rested on the Internet Explorer logo while I waited for my computer to boot up. It didn’t take me long to discover that the service had been disconnected when I pressed the link. Ugh.

  “Father!” I cried out loud and then threw my mouse at my closed bedroom door and screamed out in frustration. Nothing was going right for me. How could my father put me in solitary confinement like this? The only company I’d had for two days was a cook who Father had hired to feed me after he’d managed to reel me in from my adventures upstairs.

  I flopped, stomach first, on my bed and after a few curse words and some informal mental plotting of my revenge against my father, I allowed myself to drift off to sleep.

  Chapter Four

  I pulled up my blanket over my head and tried to continue my vivid dream. Birds were chirping, kids were playing outside and the warmth of the sun was lapping at my face—that dream environment made me want to stay right where I was. After all, my room down here didn’t provide such comforts, or pleasures.

  This dream sent wonderful goose bumps all over my body. Why wouldn’t it? I was upstairs on Earth, and I was able to bask in all that was good, rather than the dungeon of the underground.

  The minute I allowed my eyes to flutter open, I knew I’d come face to face with the rancid smell of rotted flesh and the darkness of my bedroom cell, with the echoes of screams from the tormented occasionally wafting into my sharp hearing. Father thrived in the bowels of disparity and loved to keep others there with him. That didn’t mean I wanted that same existence.

  How badly I wanted Damien to get me out of the nightmare that my father kept insisting to put me back into. Be strong, Dhellia. Face your day and your life head on.

  The chant of my positive affirmation gave me the strength to wake from my dream and try to summon my brother to get me out of Father’s home.

  My eyes fluttered open. I tried to adjust but something was weird…off even.

  I froze.

  On my side, under my covers, my eyes adjusted to a window with the blinds open and the sun peeking through the slits. Outside, children were playing hiding-go-seek and harmonious birds chirped. One in particular perched on my windowsill, and repeated the same lovely sound.

  I was astonished and uncertain. Was I still asleep? Was this some sort of nested dream where you think you wake up but you are still dreaming?

  What jolted me out of bed was the smell of bacon. Of all cooked meat, bacon had the most mouthwatering smell known to humankind. I literally sniffed my surroundings like an animal that could smell its prey from a mile away.

  Bacon? I must still be dreaming!

  The room was bright, the paint on the walls a cheery mix of off-white paint and patterned wallpaper. A plush bed? A dresser with a mirror? A flat-screen television? Am I on the third floor because this must be what Heaven feels like?

  I threw the mound of covers off my body, jumped out of bed and sucked sweet upstairs air into my lungs as I stretched. The mirror on my dresser allowed me to catch a glimpse of my attire: cool leopard-print pajama bottoms and blouse. “Not bad. My brother has good fashion sense.” I smiled inwardly.

  Things like this didn’t happen to me. I was usually running from one big city to the next, hanging out long enough to take in the ambience of Earth but never able to stay long enough to stop and smell the roses. The hypnotic visual of this world made my senses clash. I was now in my very own dream come true.

  I pinched myself.

  “Ow!” Apparently, this was real.

  I peered through the blinds and feasted my eyes on a neighborhood of families and children. The ice cream truck had its horrible repetitious music blaring from the old-style white van as it trudged its way along the curb, enticing youngsters to buy the frozen treats.

  “This is insane,” I whispered to myself. “We finally made it to Kansas, Toto.” I laughed at the reference.

  Although this was the first time I had ever set foot in this room, everything about it was me. A poster of La Sera, and Celldweller, two of my favorite bands, hung on the wall. A small serving table used as a magazine tray had the latest issues of Vogue and Cosmopolitan. My eyes were big, my heart pounded fast. “How did this stuff get here? Better yet, where is here?”

  The closet would be the tell-all. Before I left the room to find out exactly where I was, I had to see if there was anything in my closet—anything that would please my female need for fashion. With one hand on the doorknob, I
threw it open and gazed inside a walk-in closet full of fashionable clothes and heels. I dropped to my knees and screamed, “Yes, yes, yes!”

  After my moment of glory inside my closet, it was time for me to venture outside my room and get a good feel for where I was. I cracked open the door to the bedroom and poked my head out. Two people were talking—two male voices, both of which I had never heard before. I wasn’t sure what to do. Do they know I’m here? Do they care?

  In my leopard print PJ’s, I carefully and quietly walked down the short hallway and out into a retro-decorated living room. A black and white sofa hugged the living room window with a glass coffee table adjacent. To the right of the couch was a matching black and white chair and between the two arms of both was an arc floor lamp.

  To the left was a kitchen with a low countertop and a kitchen table. One guy had his back toward me at the kitchen table while the other was cooking over the stove. A part of me wanted to slip out and back into the sanctuary of my new room but the other—the very curious part of me—needed to know what in the name of downstairs was going on. I stood perfectly quiet, trying to decide which I wanted to do more…leave or stay.

  Without turning around, the guy at the stove said, “We won’t bite.”

  My eyebrows came together. How did he know I was standing here?

  He turned around and winked at me. “Well, I won’t, but I can’t speak for Jonas.” He pointed the spatula toward the other dark-haired person hunched over the kitchen table.

  I half smiled. Who in the hell are these bozos?

  The blonde guy put down the spatula, wiped his hands on a dishtowel and reached out to shake mine. “I’m Gavin and you must be Dhellia.”

  I nodded, slightly shocked that this was real and that I was no longer in my tiny dungeon-like bedroom in the downstairs world.

  The dark-haired guy, sitting at the kitchen table, finally turned around. Blood dripped from his fangs and more had dried and left a circle of red around his mouth.

  Naturally, I took a step back.

  Gavin chuckled. “Jonas is a vampire; I thought your brother told you that.”

  “My brother hasn’t told me anything. Last night, I fell asleep on my bed at home and this morning, I’m here.”

  “Oh, that’s not good. Okay then, proper introductions are in store.” He took my hand and escorted me to the kitchen table.

  I gasped when I saw a huge dead pig sprawled out on the table with two teeth marks in its neck and part of its side cut away.

  “What are you two doing?” I asked in disgust.

  Jonas took a cloth napkin and wiped his mouth. “Breakfast,” he mumbled.

  I pointed at Jonas. “You drain a pig of its blood,” then I glared at Gavin, “And then you carve pieces from it and cook it in the frying pan?”

  Gavin nodded with a grin on his face.

  “No, thanks. Remind me that I’m a vegetarian now.” I put my hand on my hip and narrowed my eyes at the vampire. “Doesn’t your kind suck blood from humans?”

  Jonas glanced from the pig to me and actually pouted.

  Gavin responded, “That’s a sensitive subject, Dhell. I can call you Dhell, right?”

  The blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby-faced guy didn’t wait for me to respond.

  “You see, Jonas is allergic to human blood.”

  “Allergic?”

  Gavin shrugged his shoulders and scrunched his face. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. He breaks out in blistered hives and his tongue swells up to the size of a large fruit. I had to whip up a potion to fix the tongue issue so that he could at least swallow.”

  My eyebrows narrowed. “This is weird. A potion?”

  “I’m a wizard.”

  “You’re a little young to be a wizard, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” he grinned.

  “Is this a joke? Am I on that Candid Camera type of thing that you humans like to do? I’m being punked right?” I glanced around the living room and searched for the hidden camera. “You two are a pair of wannabe demons who—”

  “Hang on,” Gavin interrupted. “I’m no demon. I’m a wizard. There is a difference.” He glanced at his friend, “Jonas didn’t have much of a choice. He was down on skid row, minding his own business when he was attacked by a blood sucker.”

  “Skid row? Why would someone your age be on skid row?”

  Gavin leaned in. “He had a little—”

  “Do you mind?” I interrupted Gavin. “It’s his turn to talk.” I mumbled, “I’m going to make this a Lord of the Flies’ situation and break out the conch shell.” I waited for Jonas to say anything.

  There was no doubt that Jonas was not a typical vampire. No way…No how. He was a timid mouse in a world of alley cats. I couldn’t believe how human-like he seemed, yet he had lost his soul when he was turned.

  His dark brown hair was a messy mop. Strands of his bangs covered his red eyes. His skin was flawless and pale from the lack of UV rays from the sun, which was such a contrast to his dark hair.

  I narrowed my eyes and waited, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared down at the table in front of him.

  “Are you kidding me?” Frustration was only one strong emotion I was feeling in this room of mishaps.

  Gavin crossed his arms over his chest. “You see, that’s why I always talk. If I don’t talk for him, he’ll sit there like a scared puppy.”

  “Do you wipe his ass, too?” Why was I in this house with these guys? Could my brother have been that mad at me that he would stick me with these two goofballs?

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at Gavin. He had no swag. He slicked down his sandy blonde hair and parted it on the side. He wore a pair of thick-lensed glasses and his blue eyes had gold flecks that were almost frightening in the magnifying lens of his spectacles.

  His t-shirt was yellow and his pants were mint green. His clothes horrified me—he was a fashion nightmare. Then there was that damn tongue of his that kept slipping out like an iguana to lick that already chapped area above his top lip.

  “How old are you two?” I was trapped in a teenage nightmare.

  “Jonas was seventeen when they turned him, which would make him eighteen and half. Actually, it would make him eighteen years, seven months and twenty-two days old to be exact.”

  I sighed, blowing my bangs off my face.

  “And I’m twenty-one. I had my birthday four months ago, which would make me—”

  “I got it, window-licker.”

  Jonas looked up at me. “What’s he like?”

  Gavin and I both glanced at Jonas. The boy finally said something.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Your father.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You know who my father is?” I put my finger in Gavin’s face because I sensed he was going to talk and I wanted to hear from the vampire.

  “Your brother told us everything. He asked Gavin to put the cloaking spell on you.”

  “Cloaking spell?” It only took a second, but when it dawned on me what he had just said, I was horrified. “You mean to tell me that I’m being shielded from my father, the king of the underworld—the all-powerful Satan—by a cloaking spell cast around me by this shmuck?”

  Gavin shrugged apologetically. “I’m quite good at my spells, Red.”

  I had offended him. “It’s Dhellia to you. Not Red. Not Dhell, and not any other name you can conjure up in your pea-brain head. I’m Dhellia, the princess of the underworld, and you’ll respect my title.”

  I gasped at my claim to an underworld title. What was wrong with me? I despised the underworld. Words like that had never slipped from my mouth in the past.

  Maybe I felt vulnerable around two roommates who I knew couldn’t protect me. Besides, they were a distant part of my father’s world, yet they were a walking contradiction like me—no a walking, no-swag contradiction, unlike me.

  They were the most down-to-earth humans I had ever met. I put my hand on my head and glanced at both their astonished f
aces. “What? I went to bed in my room in Hell and then wake up here to this. I must be going through some form of separation anxiety.”

  Neither of them said anything. And that was my cue to leave them to their breakfast. I backed up and quickly ran back into the semi-safe haven of my new bedroom.

  Chapter Five

  I paced aggressively in my bedroom, calling out to my brother, “Damien, I’m not playing with you. Get your butt here right now. I need to have a word with you.”

  My mind was coiling around different reasons why he’d hide me out in a place like this: with a vampire, who was a timid mouse, and destined to drink the blood of an animal because he was allergic to human blood and then, there was his mentor, a statistical maniac who practiced witchcraft and called himself a wizard.

  What vampire is allergic to human blood? That’s a curse from both the Halo Man upstairs and Father.

  Then it crossed my mind. “Why doesn’t Gavin cast a spell that would cure Jonas of his vampire woes?” With that thought, I raced to my door, so I could give them this brilliant idea.

  But when I flung the door open, Damien walked through my doorway, pushing me back inside my room. My brother stood in front of me, slammed the door without touching it and waited for me to say something.

  “Damien? It took you a while to get here.” I was slow to speak because he seemed at odds with something.

  He didn’t say anything. His eyes were darker than usual and I sensed an inner conflict. His body language was aloof and he stood rigid. My brother wasn’t happy about something.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He walked to the window and stood with his back toward me. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his legs slightly apart, yet firmly planted. He wore a pair of black jeans, a dark green t-shirt and his favorite boots. He was handsome as usual, but his energy was wrong. I could see the flow of energy around him being stifled.