“To throw off suspicion of those that might otherwise call attention to paranormal creatures.”
Fury took hold of me. “But I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
A slight smirk appeared. “You’ll be able to say goodbye. Once Lorraine slips beyond the veil, witches and demons are the only supernatural beings that can still communicate with the living.”
“So vampires, werewolves, and all that… they just vanish? Why don’t demons turn to dust?” Then I recalled that Lucifer created demons, so they weren’t bound by The Rule of Three.
Darius inferred that I’d answered my own question. “Demons often inhabit those without any abilities. It’s easier to wrestle control from those without supernatural powers.”
“But Zephora entered Grams’s body. And she’s not a demon. So how did that happen?”
Darius shook his head, appearing troubled by his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Only Zephora knows.”
“How well do you know Delphine?”
“Not well. But from what I’ve seen, I agree with your grandmother: Delphine isn’t trustworthy. She’s too selfish, too self-serving. She cares for her family but amassing power comes first.”
“Why did you say there will be challenges ahead?”
“Only after you struck down your grandmother did I realize what comes next.”
That didn’t sound good. I steadied myself for what he had to say.
“You have to understand: it would have happened even if you hadn’t… ” His eyes went to the spot Grams’s body had inhabited only moments ago. “Maybe not now, but whenever she would have passed away, it would have taken place. No one could have stopped it. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
“It? What do you mean?”
“You know Zephora created a succession plan consisting of three generations of firstborn daughters. When the first daughter of each successive generation links with those before her, the family line maintains balance to ensure that no single witch obtains too much power. More than that, they create a powerful line of defense against others from entering our world.”
“Okay, let’s assume I’m a first grader in witch-ology. What others?”
“Other creatures.” His gaze veered to Brandon. “Others may soon rise because the balance of power has been upset.”
“But you said three firstborn witches needed to be in place. We have that: Delphine, Alexis, and Celestina.”
“Indeed. The strength of your line depends on how well a firstborn witch is versed in witchcraft. Or to put it another way, it depends on your level of power. If the line isn’t strong enough to prevent the barrier from splitting, you’ll all pay the price. But I’m certain Delphine indoctrinated Celestina into your line’s history and practices, so I don’t worry about a fissure.”
“You said something about a barrier.”
“The firstborn witch in your line is usually taught at a very young age how to access and control her powers. That way, once the transition takes place, balance is maintained. The elders in your line needed to spend time and patience to make sure their young ones harnessed the power granted to them. If they didn’t, their children would suffer the consequences.”
That last comment reminded me of Delphine’s statement. “What consequences?”
The consequences of Zephora’s failure. She proved to be a wise teacher, but her daughter became so fearful that others in her line would become as power-hungry as Zephora that she failed to teach her own daughter all of the knowledge that had been handed down to her. It created a power vacuum, one that made it difficult for all succeeding witches to control their powers.
“Zephora’s granddaughter didn’t place her utmost attention on learning her craft. She sought the easy way out: black magic, which Zephora dabbled in so her line would maintain its power and control. Eventually both Zephora and her granddaughter had fallen prey to black magic.”
“And then?” asked Brandon, stepping beside me. He looked more composed now that his body more or less had returned to its natural state. He looked at me with an irritated expression. “Hey, it seems I’m in this now, so I want to know what comes next.”
Kendall appeared at his side, but she folded her arms inward, still battling the chill that hadn’t yet left her bones. She opened her mouth, but a second later, her teeth chattered, preventing her from saying a word.
Upon learning the history of my heritage, I had all but forgotten that Brandon and Kendall stood behind me. Their presence and eagerness to learn more filled me with gratitude that my friends hadn’t abandoned me.
“I regarded it as the first wave,” said Darius. “Zephora’s granddaughter didn’t want to learn the fundamentals of witchcraft. She side-stepped the basics in order to discover her abilities and all that came with it.”
I didn’t know how that worked. “Is there a Cliff’s Notes version you can give me?”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m unfamiliar with a man named Cliff.” His expression grew darker, more intense. “Is he a sorcerer? A warlock?”
“Neither.” Kendall laughed, still trembling. “She was just joking. Keep going.”
Brandon went over to her, pulled an arm around her shoulder and slid a hand up and down her arm, attempting to warm her.
Kendall curled toward him, melting in his embrace.
“Because she didn’t learn the basics,” Darius said, “she took shortcuts. Lorraine and I suspect that Zephora somehow managed to manipulate her. It didn’t end well.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Zephora’s granddaughter distorted the human form. She created many life-forms that most humans regard as folklore.”
“Like Bigfoot?” Brandon asked. “Is he real? And don’t say he’s Chewbacca from Star Wars.”
Darius examined him for a long moment. “You are a strange man.”
A smile broke across Brandon’s face. “Thanks.”
Darius looked at me. “As I’ve said, unless a complete power structure is in control, the powers your line has created in the past will come to pass. It must have cracked open already due to Lorraine’s illness. Otherwise, that demon wouldn’t have been able to cross into this dimension.”
“Are we talking zombies or something?” Kendall asked.
“No,” he said, looking at her with a curious look. “This situation has occurred three times in the past: during the American Revolution, during the Civil War, and during the Great Depression. After restoring order at the conclusion of those eras, those with supernatural abilities ceased to retain those qualities.”
I tried to grasp the weight of the situation, but I didn’t quite understand how it would shake out. “So after my line regained control, vampires lost their supernatural powers: they weren’t strong or fast and didn’t crave blood?”
“Precisely. But they continued to walk the earth unless they were killed. Otherwise, they would wander the Earth as humans. When the line breaks, those who were vampires will once again become vampires.”
“Right now, you walk around in the sunlight?” Brandon said.
“Correct. And if the line breaks, I’ll be unable to walk by daylight.”
“All because of a curse?”
“Not just any curse…a blood curse. Once cursed blood enters the blood stream, it attacks the chemical structure of a person’s original life source. The cursed blood kills every last drop of human blood inside that individual, and the human body can’t process the power of the cursed blood, resulting in death.”
“Wait,” Kendall said. “Are you saying—”
“It’s similar to an electrical short circuit,” Darius said. “There is too much energy going into one outlet to process, so it blows a fuse, or in this case, the victim dies. However, the Blood Curse specifies that vampires can only die by a wooden stake to the heart, decapitation, or by incineration via direct sunlight. In effect, the Blood Curse both kills and revives. The entire process lasts perhaps five minutes, if not sooner, so most bodily functions are unaf
fected by the trauma any given victim experienced. Thereafter, the heart continues to beat.”
“You keep saying victim,” I said. “Do you consider yourself a victim?”
“Most definitely. It’s called a Blood Curse for a reason. I did not choose this fate. It was forced it upon me.”
“Why?” I asked. “What did you do?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brandon said. “So you’re saying that vampires have beating hearts, and they’re not really dead?”
“Yes. Since those afflicted with cursed blood die, many often assume that they’re…undead. But nothing could be further from the truth. Once an infected person’s heart stops beating, they die. But they were revived. It is no different from a human who suffers a heart attack and dies, only to be resuscitated.”
“Then why call a human…a human?” I asked.
Kendall analyzed Darius. “You don’t look evil. You’re not hiding a pentagram necklace around your neck, are you?”
Brandon pulled a black pentagram necklace out from under his own t-shirt. “You mean like this one?” He turned an eye on Darius and smiled. “Don’t worry, dude: I won’t hurt you.”
Darius almost cracked a smile at that.
If I hadn’t been studying Darius’s expression, I wouldn’t have noticed him wince ever so subtly, as though he detested Brandon’s comment. When he turned his gaze onto mine, I tried to interpret what he felt, but I failed to do so. Still, neither he nor I looked away until Kendall’s voice broke the silence.
“If those outbreaks occurred three times during the last few hundred years, how come no one knows about vampires or werewolves today?”
“Because it was my duty to end their existence before that came to pass.” He looked neither pleased nor disappointed in the role he’d played.
“So you went around the country killing supernatural creatures? Not once or twice but three times in your life?”
“Yes. Month after month, year after year, until they were all dead. ”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t belong on Earth.”
“But what about you?” I asked. “You’re a vampire. Are you saying you don’t belong on Earth?”
Without hesitation, he said, “Of course. I should have died long ago.”
“Then where do you belong?”
A pained expression made it obvious that he’d done things that still haunted him. “That depends on whether God or Lucifer will call upon me.”
“Call you?” Brandon asked. “You’re saying, Satan has a telephone?”
“Yeah,” Kendall responded. “Check your front pocket. It’s the only large object in that area.” When Brandon burst out laughing, she permitted a slight grin before looking at Darius with a serious expression. “At some point, someone must have seen a werewolf tearing up a human body. Someone must have found a couple puncture holes in a person’s neck.”
“You forget: news traveled much slower back then. Also, I have the ability to compel people to forget certain things.”
I shook my head. “So you must know when someone’s a…creature?”
Darius’s gaze skimmed from me to Brandon and back to me. “In most cases: yes.”
“So why not kill them when they’re in human form?”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“They were created by magic. You were recreated by magic. And you even admitted that you don’t belong here. So why is it ‘not as simple as that’?”
“Every individual has free will. Each person or creature has a right to determine which direction to choose.”
“Gimme a break,” said Brandon. “Freud would have a field day with this one.”
“You also knew Sigmund?” Darius released a laugh without the least bit of humor. “Doubtful!”
“Huh?” Brandon asked, confused. “I’m just saying, you’re either evil or you’re not. There’s no in between.”
This time, Darius chuckled with more than a bit of agitation in his voice. “This from a man whose only career aspiration is to pound two sticks on a set of drums?”
“Okay,” I said, interrupting to move the conversation forward. “Some creatures aren’t bad. Like you, for instance.” Seeing a disturbed expression on his face, I said, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—”
“I was human once, but I’m not a monster. I’m just different. And as I’ve stated, I was turned against my will. Yet, since then, I’ve protected every generation of your family for over three hundred years.” He paused for a long moment, a hard stare glinting in his eyes. “For those reasons, I demand more respect.”
I hadn’t expected such a cold outburst. “You’re right.” His determined expression frightened me. He looked inhuman, unpredictable. “I apologize.”
He stared me down for a while before accepting my apology with a nod of his head.
“Now that we’ve got that straight,” I said, doing my best not to let on that he’d unhinged me, “how do we go about preventing these creatures from walking the earth?”
“Ensure that there are three properly trained firstborn witches in your line until the end of time…or until one of them can end the spell Zephora created.”
“Then we’ll do that,” I said. “We’ll break the spell that ends our line.”
Darius sneered. “If it was that easy, don’t you think one of your ancestors would have achieved that by now? You must understand: no witch in your family has come close to obtaining the power Zephora once controlled…or still controls. After all, she took over Lorraine’s body. No other witch has been able to wield that kind of power.”
“Why?”
He looked mystified by that question. “I don’t know.”
A streak of fright whipped through me. “But there has to be a way to prevent it.”
“Celestina is special,” Darius said. “I feel her power. She has as much power as her mother and grandmother combined. That has never happened before. I can only imagine it must be a consequence of having been born of a mother who is a twin.”
Darius stared at me with an aggravated expression for what felt like forever. “If anyone can stop Zephora, it would be Celestina. If not, creatures will be able to leave the city.”
That last bit intrigued me. “Why Chicago? Why not the rest of the world?”
“Zephora specified that any individual with supernatural powers must remain in the same town as those in your line.”
“So these monsters can’t go to New York or London or Shanghai. They have to stay in Chicago?”
“I take exception to the term ‘monster’, but yes, that’s correct.”
“But what purpose does that serve?”
“To ensure that your line maintains control over them, and that is exactly what Zephora seems intent on disrupting, so she can command supernatural creatures across the globe.
“You’re kidding,” I said, only half-believing Darius. “That’s preposterous.”
“It is. But not to Zephora, who must have contacted your mother about entering your grandmother’s body in hopes of putting her plan in effect. But now that she’s gone—”
“My mother wants to finish her work.”
“Not just that, but your mother wants what Zephora wanted: for supernatural beings to be as commonplace as humans. She wants them to do her bidding, to be her private army, to help her rule the world.”
“My mother wants all that?” I didn’t know Delphine, so I couldn’t sum up her character or her ambition. Furthermore, I had a difficult time believing anyone who Grams had nurtured would become so power-hungry.
“Set aside your doubt. Lorraine knew exactly what your mother sought. That’s why she lost all faith in her.”
I couldn’t deny the logic in that argument. It all seemed too hypothetical, too illogical. “How do I stop her?”
“I don’t know. You’re part of their line. Your kind has always restored balance in one way or another over the past few hundred years. I suggest you consult your ancestors.
”
“But they’re dead.”
“In bodily form? Yes. In spirit? No. As I said, when they pass to the other side, one-third of their energy remains behind, allowing them to guide those in their line who arrived after them. You just have to learn how to contact them.”
“So you’re saying I can communicate with ghosts? Like I did with Grams a little while ago?”
“Yesterday? Yes.”
“No, five minutes ago. Right here. In the shop.” Seeing incomprehension on his face, I said, “You didn’t see her? How is that possible? You saw her last night.”
He gave that some thought. “When one passes to the other side, that person has the power and authority to determine who she shows herself to. That explains why your grandmother bypassed me in order to speak with you.” He glanced off to the side, unable to hide his disappointment. “It seems one hundred years of service doesn’t entitle me to her circle of trust.” He didn’t budge a muscle, didn’t look the least bit perturbed by this fact. Sort of as though he’d expected such treatment.
Nevertheless, I had no trouble picking up the discontent from the inflection of his tone. “I’m sure she had a very good reason to appear to me.”
Darius didn’t look convinced.
“Maybe she already has the utmost faith in you. After all, she knows I need your help in learning about my heritage.”
“That makes sense.”
“So you’ll help me stop them?”
He nodded. “We must begin as soon as possible.”
“The only problem is…I’m new to all this. How do we begin? How do we stop a woman bent on world domination?”
“Your mother wants The Book of Souls.” A smirk lined his face. “I say we give it to them.”
Behind him, the mysterious chamber that I’d walked into yesterday shimmered brighter than before. This time, I saw what stood in the middle of the room. Inside the glass case stood a tall wooden podium. A reddish glow emanated from within.
When I looked at Darius, I suspected that he had only guessed that The Book of Souls was somewhere in the building. It meant that even Grams, who’d trusted Darius with most everything, hadn’t entrusted him with the location of the grimoire. It brought up numerous questions, but the most pressing was: if she’d trusted him for a century, why hadn’t she trusted him with the location of The Book of Souls?
Nightwish (An Echoes of Eternity Novel Book 1) Page 13