by Lisa De Palo
“Keep this close, Layla,” Sophie said. “This blade was forged in Vervain. It won’t kill a vampire, but will definitely stop it in its tracks for a while.”
“It’s beautiful, how old is this thing?” Layla asked, twisting the dagger around. “And why is it having no effect on me?”
“This has been in the family for generations, and was forged with witchcraft, it will only damage a vampire if it comes in contact with their life force. Make sure the blade doesn’t touch your blood, Layla, or it will burn and cripple you.”
* * *
Sophie and her niece dressed in black, hoping to blend in with the night’s surroundings. They made it to the coven undetected and slowly crept toward the back of the building where they peered through one of the dusty old windows. There was not a single vampire in sight, but Layla felt hesitant to move forward.
She was feeling the pressure to keep her aunt safe, she didn’t need to worry about herself because she knew that the vampires wanted to keep her alive, but Sophie… they would tear her apart. Layla leaned back onto the aluminum frame of the building and looked up at the stars. She exhaled and closed her eyes tight for a moment. Sophie arched her neck around to catch Layla’s gaze and shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t know how to get in unnoticed,” Layla whispered.
She watched Sophie nod with lips tightened and Layla was hushed as her aunt raised her hand up toward her face. Sophie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply Time was against them and Layla bit her lip as she swung her head around keeping an eye out for anyone lingering. She jumped as Sophie’s hands hovered over her body, her aunt was whispering ancient Latin words, and then it dawned on her, she was performing a spell for her safety. She stood silent and still while Sophie finished her magical incantations.
“It’s okay, Layla, this should keep you safe for a while. It’s a cloaking spell to keep you hidden, but it won’t last long.”
With an upturned face, Layla felt the relief of having a witch by her side.
“If you come,” Layla whispered. “They will smell your blood.”
Sophie cast a wavering smile toward her niece.
“I’ll keep watch,” she replied.
Layla flickered her eyes around. All the trees were stripped from the cold winter winds, and icy white snow covered the bare boughs. It was dark and ominous under the starlight. She squinted her eyes and tried to see through the darkness, and pointed toward an old barn about fifty meters back from the coven.
“I’ll meet you there with Marco,” she said pointing to the barn. “But if I’m longer than fifteen minutes, go back. Don’t risk it.”
With a nod from Sophie, Layla let at a loud breath and tried to summon all the courage she could. Then she quietly pulled open the creaky door and was inside.
It was dark and quiet. A few old chains that held the industrial lights were swaying and clinking from a slight icy breeze that had entered through the smashed windows high above her head. She moved weightlessly on the balls of her feet and bolted over toward some shelving that housed old boxes and drawers on the far right of the complex. Standing silently, hidden by the isles, she concentrated her hearing toward the corridors beyond the warehouse’s walls. The slight sound of metal clanging and a crackling fire were all her ears could reach and she crept over to the door that led down one of the corridors. She placed her ear on the door. The coast was clear. She made a swift entrance and ran as fast as her vampire legs would take her. There were at least three corridors to run without being detected. Layla slipped out her thin knife and gripped the handle tight, she was willing to take on anyone standing in her way.
She made it into Marco’s room. It was unlocked, which was weird. She opened the door just enough to pop her head in and look around. His chamber was immaculate, it seemed like no one had been in there for quite a while. She slipped inside and quietly latched the door behind her. Layla couldn’t catch his scent and something told her that his presence had not been here for some time.
She couldn’t hear him calling for her anymore and began to stand silent staring into nothingness. She had feared the worst. Layla sat on his silky black comforter, hunching her shoulders over and dropped her eyes to the floor. Am I too late? Her lips fell slightly apart and her breathing quickened. Her eyes danced in unison as thoughts of the worst came crashing down on her.
Bang.
The door flew open, and Anastasia marched in with aggression and purpose.
“Here,” she pointed at the bottom corners of the door frame. “Fix the lasers over his doorway, boys, if anyone comes looking for him, we will know.”
She headed over toward Marco’s bed and suddenly stopped only a couple of feet away from Layla. Anastasia’s body stiffened up, and she placed her hand to her waist on the handle of her dagger. With creased eyebrows, she jolted her head around looking over her shoulder as if she was being watched.
Layla pressed her elbows tightly into her sides making her body as small as possible fearing Anastasia could sense her. She remembered she had the cloaking spell, making her invisible, yet wasn’t sure that was enough to remain anonymous from a vampire. Anastasia turned her body toward Layla and began to near closer and closer until she was almost right in front of her. Layla covered her mouth and scrunched her eyes together, Anastasia was only inches away from stepping on her toes and Layla almost gave in to her. Anastasia stood there for a moment that stretched into an eternity.
“This alright?” One of the boys said and Anastasia turned back to them.
They left and Layla sighed.
That was too close.
She gave it a couple of minutes before she stuck her head out the doorway making sure it was safe and made her dash out into the corridor. She passed Dimitry’s room when she overheard him talking to Anastasia.
“I am counting on you to find her, Anastasia. She is with child.”
Anastasia touched her throat as she turned her head away.
“With child? How is this… is it possible, Sire?” she asked.
Dimitry walked away facing the fire.
“No, it isn’t, but in this case, a demon had planted his seed,” he said.
Anastasia snapped her neck back to him as her mouth fell wide apart, suddenly speechless.
“We cannot have the demons get their hands on Layla, it will be to our own end,” Dimitry said.
Anastasia lifted her hands in front of her mouth.
“A demon-vampire hybrid…” she gasped.
Dimitry nodded and let his head drop as he walked over to his desk rubbing his hands together.
Layla looked down at her unborn child and caressed her stomach in her hands.
I’m not letting anyone get their hands on you, little one.
The door began to creak open, Layla’s heart skipped a beat and she quickly shuffled forward toward the end of the corridor. There was a T-junction and something told Layla to turn left. She headed up toward the end and oddly there were only a few doors. They were all solid steel besides the last one that had a few bars with a peep window. She quickly looked through but it was pitch black. Layla let out a sigh and began to turn her head away when she heard the moaning of a man in pain. Her brow wrinkled as she again moved up toward the peephole.
“Hello?” she whispered.
A muffling sound came out of the room.
“Hello? Who are you?” she asked.
“Lay- Layla is that you?”
“Marco! It’s me, I’m getting you out of here.”
“No, please, the- they will catch you.”
Layla snuck a peek over her shoulder and there wasn’t a soul around. She clenched her jaw and launched her boot into the door as hard as she could. She had no idea what strength was now running through her, but the steel door crunched under her weight and the hinges sheared clean off sending the thing in with a deafening clang. She grimaced at the sound and felt as if a cloak had been stripped off her back. She shrugged it off and rushed inside, it was pitch black, she
squinted her eyes and saw a shadowy shape at the back of the room.
“Oh my God, Marco, what have they done to you?”
She ran over to the back corner which housed a brass, gothic candelabra. Melted wax had dripped a small mound on the brick floor. A freshly burnt wick aroma wafted through the cell, entwined with the pungent odor of death, she found a box of half-lit matches on a small table to the side. It led her to question just how many torturous visits he had to endure. She lit a single candle and the soft flame chased the darkness away and Layla wrenched her hands up in front of her lips.
It was horrific, she could barely recognize Marco. He had been left hanging by chains, almost mimicking Jesus’ crucifixion with his arms outstretched and held in place by thick metal hooks that had been violently skewered through him. Her eyes worked him over and she almost dry reached at the sight of the lacerations across his chest. The cuts had severed the flesh down to the muscle so they looked like quivering ribbons. Starved, tortured and throttled, Marco had no hope in his eyes. He had been broken, this was evil at its innovative best.
Layla didn’t have time to be gentle. She lifted the weight of his body off the hooks and forced them back out of his flesh. He moaned in agony and Layla’s stomach dropped, but the sound of the door would have caught the attention of the vampires. She got him to his feet but he was too weak to stand.
In a half limp, half drag, they raced out of there as quick as they could. Layla could hear the echo of footsteps behind them. She had to move but Marco was too weak. She kept pulling and forcing him on and she could hear the vampires getting closer and closer. One of them shouted out just as they found the exit. Layla begged Marco forward, but it was useless, a shriek echoed down the corridor and Layla turned just in time to see Anastasia’s furious face.
“Let him go!” Layla screamed and she suddenly realized the vampires could see her again.
Anastasia ripped Marco away from Layla’s grasp and threw him to the ground like an infected animal. He fell to the sodden earth with a heavy thud. The silver clouds suddenly gave way to the waning gibbous moon, it shone in all its splendor, revealing their breath as it froze in the chilling night air. Anastasia’s lips curled back exposing her knife-edged teeth.
“You made a mistake coming back here, Layla,” she snarled.
Layla gasped and wrenched her hands up to protect her face as she watched Anastasia act with carnivorous malice. She launched her body flying into the air with claws outstretched set to slash Layla open. A sudden force threw Anastasia back and she smashed into the shed panel. A deafening bang and dented aluminum revealed the force of the blow and Anastasia slumped unconsciously to the floor.
Layla dropped her arms an turned her body to find out what had happened. Sophie sprinted toward her from the old barn.
“Layla, we’ve got to go! Now!”
With no time for questions, she nodded and ran to retrieve Marco’s limp body. Anastasia moaned as she began to come to- they were out of time.
“Layla, take Marco and go, I’ll take care of this one.”
“What? No, let’s go! She will kill you,” Layla yelled.
“You don’t have time, Layla, I’ll be fine just go, now.”
Layla scraped her hand through her hair, nervous as hell to leave Sophie there alone, but there was no time for debating. She took up Marco’s arm and dragged him back down to the docks.
25
ACCESSION
Over time, some vampires learned to endure their endless pain and suffering, for if they were able to do that, they could survive and overcome anything. Others learned to embrace it, perhaps even love it, drown it in sorrow, or switch off their humanity altogether. Then there were those that turned it into anger… Anastasia’s was worse than any of them.
She took all her pain and suffering and let it fester to hate and then she sanctioned it to consume her until she had become a different vampire altogether. That was the reflection of herself that even she couldn’t even bear to face.
The clouds shifted and a roaring thunder began to roll in. Anastasia shook in ungodly rage and forced her double row of fangs to snap while her eyes glowed red with hellfire. Layla and Marco had barely escaped her, but still, she had been defeated once again. She wouldn’t just simply forget this. No, now it was personal.
The vampire’s eyes met the witch’s, and she was able to read some of Sophie’s lingering emotion. Her inhumanity had seemed to both enrapture and repel her. With sanguine eyes set to kill, Anastasia cracked her neck to each side and felt fury overcome her. She gritted her teeth and lifted herself from the ground, as Sophie slowly walked up toward her.
“You should know better than to try that with my niece,” Sophie said.
Anastasia’s nose crinkled. She watched as Sophie raised her chin, she was preparing herself to become the prey. Anastasia flew on top of Sophie, engulfing her legs around her waist. She sank her teeth deep down into Sophie’s neck until she could taste the surge of warm blood flowing up out of the wound.
A sudden pulse vibrated through Sophie’s vein and she moaned out loud. Sophie pushed back and slammed an elbow into Anastasia’s chest. Anastasia choked as the wind got knocked from her lungs and she fell heavily to the ground before gasping for air.
“You stupid bitch,” Anastasia hissed. “I will skin you alive!”
Anastasia’s lip curled as Sophie clasped at her neck to slow the bleeding. Slowly, the vampire got back to her feet.
“Wait!” Sophie cried. “You need me…”
Anastasia stopped in her tracks, shocked by her response before believing it was just a ruse.
“Need you?” Anastasia chuckled.
“I see it, Anastasia. Your gloomy eyes betray a sadness, an inward languishing…”
“What?” Anastasia said, raised her chin as her fingers flexed. “Do you think you can psychoanalyze me, Sophie?”
Anastasia grabbed at her throat and hauled her high off of the ground.
“Wai-it,” Sophie choked. “I’m- a- witch, I can- help- you-”
She met the witches gaze and slowly put her back down on her feet. Anastasia smirked at Sophie, and pat her head like a dog.
“Dear, dear, Sophie. You may just be right.”
26
CONVERSANCE
Jeremiah looked out O’Leary’s window toward the clouds and he sighed. He was alone, cast out by his own family for his thoughts and beliefs. His shoulders felt heavy as he remembered a brother that had once shared the same fate, banished from the heavens because he stood up for what he believed in. Jeremiah, himself, was amongst the ones that turned their back but now he couldn’t help but feel empathetic.
He began to reassess his loyalty and wondered which steps to take next. Making one wrong move could ultimately be the difference between war and peace. It was a sensitive time they lived in, the demons were gearing up for the fight ahead while the angels were being fractured from within.
Jeremiah believed he was a patient being, stubborn and sometimes even aggressive, but still patient. He took orders and saw them through, loyal until the very end. He was one of Rafael’s best soldiers, but none of that mattered in the end, he had made one choice that Rafael didn’t approve of and was cast out like a traitor, leaving him to feel as if he had never even mattered.
He picked up a shot glass and threw his fourth whiskey back into his throat, grimacing as his eyes involuntarily shut. He looked down at the bar-top trying to overcome the burning in his throat. He was lost with no vision in sight. How could he, a lone angel, help the masses when he had gone rogue. Jeremiah pulled out his phone and called Eshreal in hope that she might still see him as an old friend.
“This is Eshreal, leave a message.”
Jeremiah chuckled to himself.
Angel voicemail, this is new.
“It’s Jeremiah. I need to talk to you, can you come to O’Leary’s… alone?”
He nodded his head to Shannon ordering another shot of whiskey.
; Shannon smirked at Jeremiah.
“Any more an’ you’ll be topplin’ off yer chair, lovey.”
Jeremiah’s eyes glanced down as he took hold of the glass.
“Doesn’t sound so bad right now,” he said.
She reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“You haven’t lost everyone, darlin’, just believe in yourself. You’ll find a way.”
His lips pressed together in a slight frown and he felt a vibration strike him from behind. He swiveled around on his bar stool as Eshreal walked through the door. He watched her face for a reaction toward him, yet she revealed nothing. His fingers instantaneously began twitching. Eshreal neared the bar as her eyes searched the room. She sat down next to him and smiled at Shannon.
“Gin and tonic, Shannon, thanks,” she said.
She turned her glance over at her brother.
“You have been a topic for conversation at the Sanctuary, dear brother.”
He placed his hand on hers as his eyes widened.
“I can explain,” he said
Slowly, yet purposely, she slipped her hand out from beneath his and took hold of her drink.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Jeremiah huffed. “Rafael was going to kill her, and perhaps even myself for that matter.”
She snapped her head toward him and squinted her eyes.
“You should have let him kill her, Jeremiah. She’s of demon blood, and it’s starting a war. What’s wrong with you?”
Jeremiah moved his body away from her and snickered in disbelief.
“I can’t believe this. You of all people should understand, Esh,” he said.
She broke his gaze and sipped on her drink.
“That was a long time ago, Jere, and I only saved that half breed because he was an innocent child.”
“And that’s different how? Layla had no idea she had demon blood until a month ago. She’s lost friends and family and has been hunted down by demons to be used for breeding,” he said. “She’s gone through hell and no one cares.”