Claimed By Magic

by Claire Marta

  The throb of his fangs in his gums was distracting and they itched to lengthen. The girl’s blood he knew was a heady intoxication. It had a more addictive taste than he had ever encountered before. He yearned to feel the heat of her small body against his. Hear her breathy moans as he pleasured her beyond the heights of delight.

  Eric wanted to touch her but knew that would not be wise. He had a mission to fulfil. Work called and he could no longer waste time. Dragging himself away, he continued to re-familiarise himself with a place he thought he’d never step foot in again.

  Vampires and Vampiria were forbidden here. The council had seen to that. They did not look favourable on those who broke their laws. Eric knew he had to be careful. Being caught was not an option. If the old man’s prediction was right, he would need his freedom to avert an impending disaster.

  Twitch’s mother’s house was on the outskirts of the city in a more run-down area. The buildings were smaller and in disrepair; many with missing glass in the windows or holes in the high roofs. The brick work was grey and worn with time. Cables sagged precariously from slanting tin rooftops. Some were frayed and not in the best condition. This was a far cry from his Grandfather’s neighbourhood.

  Twitch picked his way over the crumbling pathway and Jasmine squelched after him. Her feet hurt. Her wet socks were rubbing in places and she was sure she had blisters forming.

  Children would sometimes pass them by. Giggling and chasing after each other in a game of tag. They had no problem manoeuvring in the shrouding mist.

  “Are you all part bat or something? How the fuck do you see in this?” Jasmine grumbled, watching them go.

  The mage gave a raspy giggle. “You get used to it Jazzy, and besides, it doesn’t last all the time, just a few hours every few days.”

  Before she could ask why they halted outside a little wooden house. The place was less run down than the others, but still rough and lacking the cables most had. Many holes had been boarded over with wooden planks which did not match the rest of the home. The windows had woven baskets brimming with thriving herbs hanging from them, and multi-coloured wind chimes danced in the breeze.

  It seemed at odds with the rest of the place. There was something welcoming about it. It was the opposite of Carbrey’s intimating abode. Here it felt peaceful. Twitch visibly relaxed. The tension he had been carrying all day finally ebbed from his frame as his shoulders eased. Jasmine felt herself relax too. Twitch was home.

  Hurrying up the uneven step, he pushed open the wooden front door without knocking. This led straight into a narrow kitchen. A large glass window opposite them provided a view of a thinly fogged garden. Jasmine could see wild flowers were growing in abundance below a large apple tree.

  Curious, she glanced around the room. The space was the opposite to Carbrey’s home. The surfaces were cluttered with bottles and vials of different shapes and sizes. Clumps of drying herbs hung like decorations from high wooden beams. Crystals were crammed clumsily on wooden shelves, their different colours reflected in the light.

  The smell of baking thickened the air. It was mixed with the smell of lavender, basil, thyme and a whole host of other flowers and herbs. A woman was kneading dough on the grey granite kitchen counter humming softly to herself. Back turned to them, she was wearing the medieval garb Jasmine had seen earlier. The gown was loosely flowing and looked like cotton in a faded eggshell blue. A tunic over this was the same blue, but had lost its colour. The material looked like wool. This puddled on the floor around her, hiding her feet. Hair the same shade of reddish brown as Twitch’s, hung long and sleek, down the woman’s back to her narrow hips.

  “Hello Mother,” Twitch spoke quietly.

  The woman paused in her work, her head rising slightly. “Your Grandfather said you were back.” Her voice was melodious when she spoke. Turning with a smile, surprise lit her face when she saw Jasmine beside her son. She studied them both for a moment with a look of puzzlement. Then she frowned.

  Twitch had the same shape eyes as his mother. Hers, though, were a dazzling hazel. Even the mischievous curve of his mouth was the same. He lacked her freckles though. Slim face pointed in an almost pixie-ish way, they covered her nose and cheeks. Flour was smeared across her chin and a light covering also coated her hair at the front.

  She looked like she was not a day over thirty. It made Jasmine wonder how young she had been when she’d had her twins. Twitch was in his early twenties at least. Slowly, the woman cleaned the flour from her hands on her apron. She was staring at Jasmine now, a strange expression on her face. Blinking suddenly, she came to her senses. The smile returned.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare….you just look familiar. Where are my manners, I’m Glenna.” Jasmine accepted the offered hand. Soft, delicate, yet still lightly yeasty from the dough.

  “Jasmine,” she replied, returning the smile. “I’m a friend of Twitch’s…I mean Morgan’s.”

  Glenna’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah yes, he’s mentioned you in his letters. He described you perfectly.”

  “We saw Melinda on the way here,” Twitch interrupted, his tone laced with irritation. “I see she’s still a spoilt little brat.”

  Astonishment washed over Glenna’s features. “You did? I barely see her. We haven’t spoken since you left.”

  Frowning, the mage dumped his backpack on a small picnic table in one corner of the room. It seemed to be the only clear surface. With nimble fingers, he unbuttoned his long velvety coat and draped it on top. “What? Why didn’t you say anything in your letters?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to feel guilty, Morgan. You already send me more money than you should,” Glenna responded softly in her melodic voice. Propping her hip against the counter, she crossed her arms. “It was your sister’s choice to shun me like the rest of them...everyone but Carbrey.”

  “It wasn’t enough for the little bitch to drive me away and make everyone view me as a freak. She had to turn on you too?” The mage snapped bitterly. Anger, like Jasmine had never seen before, shadowed her friend’s face. Just under the surface she could feel his magic seething. The brush of it prickled her senses.

  “That’s enough, Morgan. I know you two have never been close, but she is still your sister.” Glenna must have felt it to from her sharp tone. Her expression had turned serious.

  “We just shared a fucking egg and a womb.” Twitch continued, his anger growing. “Melinda has made it more than clear that doesn’t mean a fucking thing.”

  Viciously, he jabbed his fingers into his hair stabbing the disarray of untidy curls out of his eyes. They became entangled. Swearing savagely, he yanked them free, ripping out a few stray strands. Breathing hard, he stared down at them.

  “Hey.” Jasmine gently touched his hand. “Forget your sister. Don’t let her spoil this for you. Enjoy your visit with your Mum.”

  Shooting her a sideways glance, he smiled sheepishly. “You’re right...sorry.” Shaking the strands loose from his fingers, he strode forwards. Arms opening wide, his mother accepted the hug.

  “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, squeezing him tight.

  “Missed you too,” Twitch replied with a hitch in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner.”

  “It’s all right, son. You’re here now.”

  Jasmine suddenly felt awkward. Averting her gaze, she took a moment to once more inspect the disorder of the room. Twitch’s mother definitely liked to hoard things. She had never seen so much stuff crammed into one room before. It was a wonder she had any room.

  “Jazzy’s not been feeling well lately,” Twitch shared. “I wondered if you would take a look at her?”

  Glenna released her son from their embrace. “Of course I can. Sit here, Jasmine.”

  Somehow, Twitch had managed to get flour all down his black, high-necked shirt. Absently, he brushed at it but the white powder remained. Feeling self-conscious Jasmine shuffled forwards toward the picnic table. She had forgotten Twitch ha
d said his mother was a healer. Biting on her lower lip, she sank onto the bench. Fuck, she was nervous. Her stomach now tied in knots.

  “Is it ok if I take my trainers off?” she asked distractedly. “They got wet and I swear I have blisters on blisters.”

  Glenna gave her a sympathetic look. “Of course you can and I have some ointment you can use on them for the pain. Now do you have any symptoms I should know about?”

  Jasmine pushed her sodden shoes off her feet. A moment later her damp pink socks followed. With a sigh of relief, she left them in a pile on the mismatched wooden floor. She did indeed have blisters. Grimacing, she wriggled her moist wrinkled toes.

  “Fatigue, I have been feeling like shit for a few days. Aches on and off…” she admitted quietly. “I’ve been throwing up a lot lately too.”

  Glenna collected a handful of crystals from the overstuffed shelf. Arranging them to her liking on the surface of the table, she took Jasmine’s hand. The fingertips of her free hand touched the tops of the gemstones. Magic tickled Jasmine’s skin. Rippling along her nerve endings, it seemed to bathe her in a warm glow, calming and serene. Jasmine sat nervously, jiggling her knee up and down.

  What would she do if Twitch was right? What if she was pregnant with a Vampiria child? Fuck, she was too young to have a kid. This was something she had not started to vaguely think about. What if it was something worse? She paled at the thought.

  “Tell me, have you been bitten by a vampire?”

  Jasmine startled at Glenna’s softly spoken question. “I-I...yes.”

  “More than once?” The woman’s tone turned more brisk and professional. “And have you ingested its blood?”

  “Yes,” Jasmine admitted, chewing on her thumb nail.

  Sighing, Glenna released her other hand. “You are unfortunate then.”

  “What do you mean?” Twitch asked. He was sitting beside Jasmine on the bench. Worry was heavy in his gaze.

  The woman gathered the crystals back up. “You are one of the few who’ve become addicted to a vampires bite. Perhaps if you had not taken its blood I may have been able to stop it, but now….”

  “Addiction?” Jasmine squeaked. Her heart pounded crazily in her chest as she felt momentarily dizzy. Eric had never mentioned this. Why had he bitten her if he knew this could happen? He had said there were consequences for drinking his blood. Yet Glenna said addiction was rare. Wasn’t it just like fate to fuck up her life just a little bit more? Wasn’t she already at rock bottom? How much lower could she go?

  “You will crave it as they crave blood.” Glenna continued, placing the stones back on their shelf. “Not receiving the bite will become unbearable. Your body will go into withdrawal. The pain I have heard is excruciating.”

  “Can’t we just wean her off it?” Twitch questioned. Leaning closer, he wrapped his arm around Jasmine’s shoulder reassuringly.

  “No Morgan, there is nothing to be done. If she does not seek a vampire’s bite, the agony without it will kill her.”

  “Fuck.” The mage’s anxious gaze met Jasmine’s dazed expression. “There are no vampires on the island. They aren’t allowed to live here.”

  “Why?” Jasmine asked faintly. She was still trying to come to terms with what she had just been told. What the fuck was she going to do? There was no way she wanted to go to Eric. He had already tried to control her life. This would just be offering herself up on a silver platter. No fucking way.

  Jasmine had also been having nightmares. The vamp that had left the burn fang marks on her left arm had also left mental scars. Just imagining another vampire sinking their teeth into her flesh now had her on the verge of a panic attack. She couldn’t do it. All that it bought was the memory of the agonizing pain she had suffered. A shudder rolled through her. Misery was quick to follow. She was so screwed.

  “Many vampires like a position of power. The council would see them as a threat.” Glenna explained absently. “Perhaps…”

  “What?” Twitch’s head jerked up and he pinned his mother with a hopeful look.

  The woman pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I might know of a potion to slow the effects. It will only work once…it would give you a few weeks at most to find a willing vampire to share their bite. You would need to take it when the pain sets in.”

  “Please, I’ll take anything that helps,” Jasmine pleaded. This would give her breathing space to decide what the fuck she should do.

  “Well, at least you’re not pregnant.” Twitch murmured in a positive tone against her ear. He had snuggled up beside her. The warmth of his body was comforting and familiar which Jasmine needed right at that moment.

  “No, I’m just fucking addicted to vampire bites. That’s a million times better.” She grumped back in rising irritation. Anger was burning away the misery. Why her? It was a question that kept repeating itself silently in her head. What had she done to piss off the powers at be? Because she must have done something to be this knee deep in so much crap.

  Twitch hummed in his throat. “Calm your tits, Jazzy. We will figure something out.”

  “Jasmine can use your sister’s old room.” Glenna said as. she was hunting through some vials on another table. “Why not show her where it is?”

  Twitch nodded in agreement. “All right. I’ll be down in a while to talk.”

  Glenna waved her hand at them distractedly without looking up. “It’s ok Morgan, take your time…I’m just happy to have you home.”

  Jasmine slid off the bench. Pain radiated up from her poor abused feet. The floor was slightly rough under her bare soles. With a hand on her elbow, Twitch helped her hobble to the end of the room. Pushing open a door, they found themselves in a tiny cramped hallway. Letting go of her arm, the mage stomped up several steep, curving, wooden steps. Jasmine followed more slowly. Now that her feet were free of her trainers, the blisters were hurting like hell.

  “You send your mother money?” Jasmine asked. It was grunted through gritted teeth.

  Twitch spared her a fleeting glance. “Yes. Her healing potions and powders don’t make enough to keep this place running.”

  “What about your Grandfather? He’s got money, right?”

  Her friend paused for a moment on a step, but didn’t look back down at her this time. “He’s the head of the three houses of Le Fey. He has to act indifferent because mother is considered an outcast…he helps quietly when he can.”

  The words were spoken in a whisper. Jasmine did catch a hint of bitterness. He continued up the stairs once again. They passed several open doors. The rest of the house seemed to be in just as much disorder as the kitchen. Furniture was well-worn and mismatching. What looked like a sitting room had bean bags on the floor and tie-dyed carpets. The walls were painted with forest scene murals. Small, but it was welcoming.

  The spiralling staircase continued upwards. Muffling a groan of pain with her lips, Jasmine limped onwards. Eventually Twitch came to a stop. Finally, it looked like they had reached the very top of the house. Three closed doors greeted them.

  Twitch pointed at the door in the middle. “There’s one little bathroom there, so we have to share.”

  “That’s ok. I don’t mind.” Jasmine told him tiredly. All she wanted to do was sit down. She wanted to stop thinking about all she had just learnt. Stomach tied in stress filled knots, she wasn’t sure she could cope with much more.

  Pushing open a door, he ushered her inside. The room was shabby and sparse. A lumpy mattress lay in a corner on the dusty wooden floor and the flowery blankets that covered it were almost threadbare.

  “I’ll get you some more blankets and a pillow from my room.” Twitch informed her with a hint of awkwardness. He looked embarrassed. This made her wonder if he was ashamed of his mother’s home.

  “Hey.” Jasmine smiled up at him. “I love your Mum’s place, it’s a hell of a lot more welcoming than your Granddad’s. I was fucking terrified of touching anything in there.”

  Twitched laughed, relaxing. “Ye
ah me too, he has so much junk.” Shoving some hair out of his face, he went to open the other door. Jasmine watched him disappear within, then turned back to her room and shuffled inside. The air was musty. The place looked like it hadn’t been used for quite a while. Scratches on the floor showed where other furniture had once sat. Things Melinda must have taken with her, Jasmine guessed.

  She didn’t want to stay alone for long. The quiet times were when the heartache for Eric would creep in like the fog in the city outside. At other times it would burst from her chest in anguish. It was always there like a dark cloud which had amassed inside her skull. She would also start to obsess. Over thinking things until they were roaring in her head. That’s when the tears came.

  Unzipping her yellow rain jacket, she dropped it onto the mattress. There were random cracks in the tiled ceiling. Cheerful, pretty, faded pink wall paper was peeling at the edges on the walls. Feeling curious, she trod on the bed to get a better look from one narrow window. The glass was dirty in places and did not give much of a view. Using the sleeve of her baggy, black jumper, she cleaned a spot in the stained glass.

  The mist had shifted again and for a moment she got a clear view of what lay beyond. A green, thick, vibrant forest stretched as far as the eye could see. Excitement gripped her. Would Twitch take her to explore? She had always loved woodlands. As a child, her parents had been keen amblers. This was something she missed. She still didn’t know how long he planned to stay. Exploring would get her mind off all the shit which seemed to be piling up in her life. It would be a moment to breathe. Maybe feel a little carefree again.

  Stepping off the mattress, she limped to the door. The other bedroom door was half open. Eagerly, she pushed her way inside.

  “Twitch, there’s a forest...” Jasmine’s words trailed off as she caught sight of her half naked friend. Silvery pink scars were scattered across his muscled arms. They were deeper and longer on his biceps. The mage’s pale back was covered with old burns. They ranged from silver to a rougher, brighter pink. The damage ran in jagged strips down to the waist band of his black, tight trousers.