by Grosso, Kym
“Ilsbeth and I have known each other throughout centuries. She’s a difficult woman, but trust her? Oui, I do,” he affirmed.
Léopold’s touch warmed her leg, and Laryssa continued to have difficulty separating herself from her feelings toward the debonair vampire. One minute he was cruel, agreeing that she was nothing more than someone he’d met. The next, he possessively kissed her. His caring words, the caress to her leg gave her reason to suspect that he couldn’t live within his own rules. She sought to squelch the optimistic thought, that he wanted more than just one night, but his actions spoke louder than his words. Unable to withstand the temptation, she placed her hand on his, completing their connection.
After driving through an ornate wrought iron gate, their car circled in front of Ilsbeth’s home. As it came to a stop, Léopold exited first, then rounded the vehicle to open the door for Laryssa. Along with Dimitri and Jake, they made their way up a wide slate staircase that led toward the spectacular home. Its second and third floor windows, adorned in rock, stood watch over the meticulously manicured gardens. A pentagram, nearly eight feet in diameter, garnished the apex of a magnificent dormer that sat perched above the main entrance. As they passed through one of the seven enormous stone arches that led onto the porch, Léopold took Laryssa’s hand into his.
Dimitri forged ahead of the group so he could announce their arrival. As he went to ring the bell, the door opened before he had a chance to press the button. Laryssa’s friend Avery stood in the archway, smiling.
“You’re here,” she called. With a gleam in her eye, she spied Laryssa and pulled her into the foyer.
“Avery, I hoped you’d be here but I wasn’t sure. This place is so…” Laryssa hugged her friend but quickly released her, taking in her surroundings.
“I know, right? It’s amazing. Ilsbeth has a place in the Quarter, but this is where we come for special events. It’s her home. No one else lives here,” she whispered.
Rose-colored plastered walls with ornate crown molding gave way to a cathedral ceiling. Flecks of speckled light danced on the stone floors. Illuminated by daylight streaming through stained glass skylights, the foyer felt spacious yet it had been closed off from all other rooms and hallways. A corner staircase led to a balcony above, where a grand piano sat untouched. As the wooden front door closed, creaking alerted them of side doors being opened and an ethereal presence called Léopold’s name.
Laryssa tightened her grip on Avery’s hand as the panels disappeared into the walls and a beautiful woman with long platinum blonde hair glided into the room. Petite, dressed in a purple, crushed velvet jacket with matching pants, she exuded a preternatural aura. But as she began to speak, it was clear that she was very much of this world.
“Léopold, so very good to see you again.” Ilsbeth gave him a smile, and waited patiently as he kissed the back of her hand.
“Ilsbeth, you’re lovely as usual,” he complimented, releasing her wrist.
“This is Laryssa,” he told her. Laryssa let go of Avery’s hand and reached for Léopold’s. “Laryssa. This is Ilsbeth. Maîtresse des sorcières.”
“Hello,” Laryssa said softly, unsure if there was some kind of special witch protocol she should be following.
“The nymph?” Ilsbeth looked to Léopold for confirmation but Laryssa took the lead.
“A naiad. How’d you know? Did Léopold tell you?”
“No need to fret, my dear. Léopold has kept your secret. But as you will soon find out, I know lots of things.” Ilsbeth sharply turned her head toward Dimitri and Jake. An imperceptible flash of fury glinted in her eyes. “Dimitri? What are you doing here? Léopold, you didn’t mention that you’ve been keeping company with wolves.”
“Hey, cher. I told Léopold you’d be happy to see me. Good to see you again, too.” Dimitri grinned and gave her a small wave from a safe distance. He supposed that he should have told Léopold that he’d slept with the witch. Some things were better left as surprises. The witch was as gorgeous as he’d remembered. Their affair had burned hot, but fizzled out just as quickly. In truth, it had been more of an explosive ending. Quite the argument, as he recalled. His eyes darted over to Léopold, who glared at him. Offering a compliment, he sought to smooth over the awkwardness of the situation. “Ilsbeth, you’re lookin’ beautiful as always.”
“I see you haven’t lost your silver tongue,” she remarked, turning away from him.
“Missed it, did you?”
“Hardly.”
“As I recall, you seemed to enjoy my tongue.” Dimitri regretted his words as soon as he said them, catching Léopold’s look of disgust.
“Tais toi,” Léopold chided. Damn wolf. Léopold made a gesture as if he was zipping his lips and nodded angrily toward the entrance, urging Dimitri to shut up and follow her.
“Come, we shall chat,” she told them. Ilsbeth continued to ignore Dimitri, walking into the other room.
Dimitri shrugged at Léopold, giving him a devious smile. Léopold shook his head, trying to stifle a smile. The wolf didn’t need encouragement to get in any more trouble, he thought.
Laryssa followed into the dimly lit room. Candles in assorted sizes and colors flickered atop the fireplace mantle while streams of light poured through thin rectangular floor to ceiling windows. Léopold took her hand in his, and they sat down in a chenille-covered love seat directly across from Ilsbeth, who reclined in a single high-backed chair. Dimitri and Jake made their way to an adjacent sofa. When they were all seated, Ilsbeth nodded over to Avery, who left them in the room, closing the doors behind her.
“What brings you to me today?” Ilsbeth began. “I’m delighted to meet a naiad. Very rare, indeed.”
“There’s a child, too,” Laryssa told her. “I’ve only met one other like me.”
“A child? Interesting.” Ilsbeth raised an eyebrow at Léopold.
“Un bébé. I found her in the snow. In Wyoming. Yellowstone,” he disclosed. His eyes met Dimitri’s before returning to Ilsbeth’s. “She’d been stolen from the Alpha’s den. Someone tried to murder her.”
“Hunter Livingston’s pack?”
“Oui.”
“Did you find her before or after she died?”
“Quoi? She’s alive. Logan Reynaud is providing refuge. Kade and Luca are helping as well. We’re the only ones who know of her existence.”
“I asked, ‘did you find her before or after she died’?” Ilsbeth repeated her question.
“I died,” Laryssa told her, realizing that Ilsbeth had confirmed what she’d suspected to be true. “Why do you think Ava died?”
“Because, my dear nymph, this is how you’re made. Naiads are not born. They are created, granted the gift of life through the water.”
“The baby was alive when I found her,” Léopold claimed.
“Touched by the lady, she awakens new. But as a child, she’s not fully grasped her powers nor does she need water to survive. When she turns of age, she will blossom like a flower. Her price is water. But this cannot be why you’ve sought my assistance.”
“We appreciate you sharing your vast knowledge, but we have a bigger problem. A demon. It seeks something from Laryssa,” Léopold divulged.
“A knife,” Laryssa added.
“A sacrificial knife. Tlalco Tecpatl,” Léopold told her.
“Ah, I see. It seeks a relic. The Aztec civilization worshipped many different gods, you know. Throughout any given year, sacrifice came in many forms, but human blood was, indeed, spilled. No class of their society was spared in the rituals. Men, women, children, even infants, all died for the greater good,” Ilsbeth lectured.
“Or so they believed. Mesoamerican history. It’s a hobby,” Jake made invisible quote marks with his fingers, “Let’s just say not all the ‘sacrifices’ went willingly on the way up to get their beating heart cut out.”
“They tore out their hearts? I thought that stuff was just in the movies.” Laryssa cringed.
“‘Fraid not. It was
done at different times of the year, with specific kinds of victims as a way to give an offering so to speak, sometimes to help the gods do their job. They needed help with survival, their land, growing crops and such.”
“What kind of gods would want death?” Laryssa challenged.
“There were many times during the year that human sacrifice was required. It was pretty much a monthly event. As for which gods? You know…the usual suspects. Rain. Sun. Wind.”
“And water. Let’s not forget the goddess responsible for water.” Ilsbeth’s mouth drew tight as the others anticipated her next words. “Chalchiuhtlicue. Some say she was married to the rain god. Some say she was the sister. Counterparts perhaps?”
“So with all this sacrifice going on, I imagine that brings about some bad juju,” Dimitri surmised.
“Whether these ancient gods and goddesses exist or existed, is of little consequence. What is of importance is that there are beings who revel in death. Torture. Murder. Evil thrives on it. Like spores in a petri dish, the heat of evil cultivates the seed, it grows,” Ilsbeth told them.
“Grows into what?” Laryssa asked her. A pregnant pause filled the room. “What does it grow into?”
“Demons,” Ilsbeth responded.
“But I thought demons were kind of like fallen angels.” Laryssa pensively pressed her lips together. She hated even saying the word.
“Indeed, they are lost to the underworld. But demons can be called to the surface by the nefarious intentions of the flesh, by man,” Ilsbeth explained. “It is why we do not speak of the one they serve. The heinous act of the taking of innocent lives, through means such as human sacrifice, can summon forth a demon into our world, albeit temporarily. Even while in their netherworld, they seek to steal souls…often during death. More often than not, the soul does not belong to them.”
“Death?” Laryssa asked.
“Indeed. Tell me, Laryssa,” Ilsbeth stood from her chair. She walked over to an antique oak apothecary cabinet, which spanned an entire wall of the room. Its bottom half housed hundreds of square drawers, neatly labeled and organized, each with its own brass label finger pull handle. Bottles and containers of various sizes lined the five rows of wooden shelves. “What did you see when you died? A light?”
“No, nothing like that. It was peaceful but all I really saw was this lady. She was glowing and then she touched me, sending me back. But…” Laryssa tried to recall the experience. It sounded crazy, she knew. “I didn’t see it. I just felt it. Something dark. Like when I see the hollow-eyed people that come after me…the dark ones. I don’t just see them. I can feel them, the evil, down to my bones. I guess Avery told you about them. She’s been helping me hide for so many years.”
“The Lady stole you from the demon. Or at least this is what it perceives. It was there, trying to take you. You did not have a clear death. No, for naiads, they see the Lady.”
“But who is she?”
“Some think she is Chalchiuhtlicue herself…giving life or taking it away as she sees fit. A deity of water, she rules the lakes, the rivers. Even childbirth. Or rebirth, perhaps? Others disagree with this hypothesis entirely, calling naiads daughters of Zeus or Poseidon. Whoever the Lady is, she grants life to young women who die within her arms. But there’s a price that comes with the breath of life she breathes into her chosen ones.”
“The water,” Laryssa whispered.
“You can’t live without it. Stray too far from her home and you will die.”
“Why does a demon want an ancient Aztec knife? And why does it need her to get it?” Léopold inquired, reaching for Laryssa’s hand. “It’s given us a week to find it. It’s threatening to kill the infant.”
“All very good questions.” Ilsbeth slid open a drawer and pulled out a clothed item. Setting it on the counter, she reached for a small clear glass bottle and uncorked it. “I’m very happy to help you, provide answers to what you seek, but as Léopold knows, I do not assist without remuneration. You see, as a witch, I cast many spells. Spells which require ingredients. Some are quite common. Like castor oil, for example. Or yarrow root. There’re things more difficult to acquire, such as, shifter hair. You know, like wolf hair, perhaps freshly ripped from its root.” she gave Dimitri a cold smile and continued. “But it is the very rare ingredients that I treasure. Like a scale of a virgin dragon, perhaps. Or the fang of a vampire.”
Dimitri’s eyes darted to Léopold. He wished like hell his friend could read minds because he knew as sure as he was sitting in the room what Ilsbeth was going to ask…demand. He’d given her his own hair as a peace offering. He offered. She took. He was still waiting on the peace.
“You can see that when I’m presented with such a prize, I must have it. The blood of a naiad. Now that is very rare, indeed.”
“No fucking way,” Léopold told her, jumping to his feet.
Placing himself between Laryssa and Ilsbeth, he protectively guarded her. The wolves followed his lead, readying for attack. Shocked at the suggestion that Ilsbeth would ask for her blood, Laryssa clasped at Léopold’s shoulders, hoisting herself to her feet.
“Tsk, Tsk, Léopold. You were always such an alarmist. Really, it’s just a tiny bit of blood I need.” She held up the bottle to the light and then set it down again. Methodically, she unfolded the cloth, revealing a simple brass athame. “But it must come willingly or else it shall be tainted. It must be a gift. A gift in exchange for my knowledge and advice. I believe it’s a fair arrangement.”
“No. There must be another way,” Léopold stormed. No way in hell was he letting that devious witch cut open Laryssa, slitting her like a chicken’s throat.
“I’ll do it,” Laryssa volunteered. Her voice was soft but strong as she pushed past Léopold.
Dimitri fell back into the sofa, aware that Léopold was about to go ballistic. He nodded to Jake who followed his actions.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Laryssa? No way. As in, no way in hell am I letting you do this,” Léopold raged, blocking her way.
“I’ve got to do this,” she told him firmly.
“No, you don’t. We’ll find another way.”
“We can’t afford to waste time. Ilsbeth can help us. You saw what happened to me last night.” Laryssa’s eyes brimmed in moisture as she raised her hand to him, gently caressing his cheek. “You must trust me. Please, Leo. I need answers.”
Her pleading tore at his heart. Goddammit. He knew she needed answers, but why the hell did it need to involve knives and blood? Her blood? It was true; they had little time to find what the demon sought. Perhaps even less time to find a way to kill it. With his eyes on hers, he solemnly nodded in agreement.
“I’ll be okay,” she told Léopold as he kissed her palm. He held her wrist but she pulled away, walking toward Ilsbeth. “Let’s do this thing.”
“Naiads are known for their bravery. That is also why some see them as dangerous. Come give me your wrist,” Ilsbeth instructed.
Laryssa pushed up her sleeve, allowing Ilsbeth to take her arm. Léopold came up behind her, surrounding her with his strength. She felt him support her forearm, his warm breath on her ear.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, ma chérie,” he whispered, with a kiss to her neck. His eyes caught Ilsbeth who was watching him like a hawk. “Be gentle with her.”
“Léopold, darling. You act as if I’m a novice witch wielding a kitchen cleaver. Would you like a demonstration of my power?” She smiled while busily preparing the bottle with a glass funnel. Ilsbeth found Léopold’s fascination with Laryssa interesting. Well aware of Léopold’s limited capacity for expressing his emotions, she grew concerned.
“No, I don’t. But heed my words. Be careful,” he grumbled.
“Can we just get this over with? How bad can it be? Now that we’re on the topic, why can’t we just do it like they do at the doctor’s office? Haven’t witches heard of hypodermic needles? They hurt, too, but very efficient. Safe.” Laryssa’s eyes wide
ned as Ilsbeth held the shiny athame up to the sky as if she were worshipping the sun. Why the hell did I volunteer to do this again? Oh yeah, scaly demon from hell. Wants to make me his bitch. Nervously, she bit her lip as the witch began to chant. “Hey, don’t you think that you should use alcohol? I don’t want to get some kind of an infection.”
Laryssa tried to control her racing pulse, but lost her concentration. Her eyes widened as Ilsbeth seized her wrist. If it weren’t for Léopold’s calming presence behind her, she would have bolted out the door.
“Seriously, I think I might have an alcohol pad in my purse somewhere. Ahhhhh,” she screamed as the blade sliced through her skin. Her natural instinct was to pull her arm away, but the damn witch was strong, holding the dripping wound over the funnel. “Shit, that hurts. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Okay, I think that is enough. You said you only needed a few drops.”
“You’re okay, mon amour,” Léopold whispered.
Mon amour. Did that arrogant vampire just call me his love in front of all these people?
“Mon amour? Seriously? I thought we just agreed that I wasn’t your girlfriend, mister ‘I don’t do relationships’?” she jibed. Laryssa tried to turn her head to yell at him but he easily held her in place. His laughter filled her ears. “Okay, look, the bottle is halfway full already. I hope someone brought orange juice. Or cookies. Sweet baby Jesus, that hurts.”
“I must say, Léopold, this naiad is a live one. Spirited. She’d make a good match for you,” Ilsbeth surmised
“Strong-willed. I think that is the term she prefers.” The sweet scent of Laryssa’s blood filled his nostrils, and Léopold struggled to ignore her bleeding incision.
“All done, now. See how easy that was?” Ilsbeth sang, delighted with her prize.
“Easy? Easy?” Laryssa’s voice began to get louder. “What the hell? Alcohol, people. Band-Aids. Anyone here ever heard of first aid?” She looked over to Dimitri and Jake, who were snickering on the sofa.
“Yeah, laugh it up, wolf boys. It’s not your blood.”
“This,” Ilsbeth held up a clear plastic bottle, “is river water. Why give you a Band-Aid when you can easily heal yourself?”