by Alex Owens
On the way down the stairs, I had to fight to keep myself from taking them two at a time because I didn’t want to show my fear. But that big bastard lumbering down the steps right behind me, in the dark, had me thinking of every haunted house I’d ever been through. I just knew that I’d feel a hand on my arm or something at any moment. By the time I reached the bottom of the decent, my ticker was kicking it up like it had back in the good old days.
I shook off the heebie-jeebies like a wet dog when I reached the well-lit cavern in front of the cells. God, I felt like I’d just walked through a huge spider’s web or something. I turned to piecemeal Lurch and he bent at the waist like Prince Charming, righted himself and disappeared back into the dark stairwell. Curiouser and curiouser it got, the longer I was down this rabbit hole. Under different circumstances, I might have been intrigued.
A cell door behind me swung open and I heard Cass’s tell-tale squeal before I caught sight of her rushing out of the door in my direction. At the precise moment she crossed the threshold of the doorway, she seemed to hit an invisible wall and bounced back into the cell, landing hard on her ass.
I tried not to laugh, honest. “Are you okay?”
She frowned briefly before standing and wiping the dirt from the seat of her pink capris. Coupled with her thin peasant blouse, I wonder how she wasn’t freezing her ass off down there, where the warmth of the sun never reached. Maybe she was using fairy juice to warm herself? I shuddered at the thought; that sounded dirtier than I meant it.
“Come on, hurry up before the door shuts with you on the wrong side of it,” she said.
I stepped into the cell and stood before her, my face as blank as I could make it. She had betrayed me after all. And while I supposed that we were even, seeing as how I’d had her imprisoned and all, I didn’t quite feel like forgiving her that quickly.
Without warning, Cass dropped to her knees, drew a blade from behind her back and sliced through one of her wrists. She held it up to me in a bloody offering.
My fangs popped out as I scrambled backwards, tripping over a small crate on the ground and landing flat on my back. My head snapped back and cracked the stone floor.
“Ff-th-uck” I yelled, catching my fangs on the tip of my tongue. My own blood welled in my mouth, somewhat quenching my desire to suck Cass dry. What the hell was it with fairy blood?
I sat and looked at Cass. She still held her arm up and her eyes cast down to the floor.
“What the hell? What in god’s name are you doing?”
“It’s customary among the Fae, when one wrongs a Vampire, to make amends. I offer you my blood willingly.” She gulped, but did not look up.
Crawling over to where she knelt, I couldn’t help but to notice that she flinched when I reached for her hand. I looked down at her arm, blood leaking in little rivers over her pale skin. It smelled amazing and I longed for just one taste.
I licked my lips, took a deep breath and gingerly placed her own hand back in her lap. I tore a strip of fabric from my own skirt and tossed to Cass as well.
“I don’t want your blood.” I said. “Why don’t you just try explaining yourself, and maybe thrown in a quick ‘sorry’ at the end and we’ll see how that goes?”
“Okay,” she sighed and quickly wrapped her own wrist. The bleeding seemed to have slowed significantly, but it was better for both of us if I didn’t have to stare at her wound for any longer than necessary.
She seemed at a loss as to where to start, so I coaxed her along. “Your father is the Fae King? That’s... interesting.”
Cass made a sound that I’m pretty sure accompanied some serious eye-rolling on her part.
“If you say so,” she said. “If you knew my father... well, just be glad that you don’t.”
“But he knows me, correct?” I asked, prodding further.
She nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, but Venna must have asked him to have someone spy on you. I only knew that there was a particular human that had just popped up on the supernatural radar in Orlando. My father knew that I was there on business and he asked me to look into it. It was just dumb luck that I worked at the same company you were schmoozing.”
So this went all the way back to the beginning, did it? That knowledge made me feel... fucking terrible. I didn’t have a response that she’d want to hear, so I clenched my mouth shut and waited for Cass to continue.
“I told my father what I knew at the time, which wasn’t much, and I thought that was the end of it. But then later he started asking questions and making veiled demands. Had I spoken to you lately? Why didn’t I take a few days to visit you? What sort of powers had emerged?”
“So you were only in my life because your Daddy made you do it?” My voice held a sharp edge to it, which made Cass look at me, finally.
“No!” She cried, her eyes welling up with tears. “It was never a job for me... you’ve always been my friend. But no one disobeys my father. You don’t disobey the King and live to tell about it—just ask my brother, Finn.”
Her voice trembled at that last bit. I had to assume her brother was dead by the grave way she’d said it. Well, the Fae King sounded like a royal douche-canoe. I did keep myself from saying that out loud. Who knew was sort of ears the stupid castle had?
“Look, I get it. I know you didn’t want to spy on me. But did you have to tell him everything?” I frowned. It was clear that Venna knew of my little fireball trick, since she’d set up that fiasco in the entry hall when we’d arrived.
“I didn’t. I only answered specific questions when he’d ask them. Unfortunately, my father asks a lot of questions. That’s probably because he knows that while I can’t lie to him outright, I can withhold information if the topic is not brought up.”
A tear spilled down her cheek and I felt myself thaw. Hell, I couldn’t be mad at Cass any more than I could be pissed at Bette for her role in all of this. I smiled and leaned forward, extending my arms.
“Well, damn. Let’s just say I forgive you and you forgive me, and call it a night?” I leaned in to hug her.
She fell into my arms and squealed, before pulling back and asking, “Forgive you? For what?”
I shrugged my shoulders and chuckled, “I don’t know. I do dumb things all the time, I’m sure you’ll think of it eventually. In the meantime, we’re even, okay?”
Cass nodded vigorously, her red ringlets bouncing around her face.
“Now, are you going to help me figure out a way for all of us to get out of this mess, or not?” I teased.
“I can try. Let’s start with what we know, what we have in our arsenal,” she said.
I filled her in on everything I’d learned from Bette, about Venna’s long history of hunting down witches of her bloodline to fuel her existence for centuries. I also explained my theory about Venna’s thirteenth child, who I believed was a vampire-witch hybrid. And that Venna had sacrificed that child, and it’s likely where she learned to do her own brand of magical recharging.
We went over everything we’d learned from the journal one more time, and I promised to delve back into the wretched thing in the morning. Maybe I’d get lucky and it would yield something useful at the eleventh hour.
Lastly, even though I protested, Cass made me go through the pros and cons of each of my possible choices. She wouldn’t even let me omit her from the lists, damn her just and fair soul. Bette had betrayed me, but I loved her. Cass had betrayed me, but was my best friend. Clive was Clive and I loved him anyway. Quinn wasn’t on the table at all. And Pete... as much as it should be him on the chopping block, I couldn’t in a million years do that to Quinn. He was her father, no matter how stupid and selfish he behaved.
“This is insane. I can’t possibly decide between the people I love (and Pete, of course) and chose one of you to die. Not in a million years...there has to be another way.” I flopped back on the cold floor in exasperation.
Cass took one of my hands into hers and we lapsed into a prolonged silence
.
I felt like a hamster running on a wheel, constantly moving, yet never getting anywhere. At times, I felt like I was missing something obvious, but the minute I tried to access those thoughts, they flitted away like butterflies.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next night I was ushered into the large banquet hall by one of the hooded guards. Judging by the general feeling of disdain emitting from under his cloak, I assumed it was probably the same demon-thingy that I’d ticked off the night I’d met with Bette in the cellars. I only found the contempt funny, especially given the circumstances. A demon hated me, go figure. On a side note, it’s a sad state of affairs when a demon is the least of my worries.
It was dark as the starless night sky when I stepped into the hall; only a few candelabra’s sat positioned around the perimeter, so I assumed they were more for effect and less for lighting the room. Even so, with my enhanced vision I could make out a small group of people standing off to the right. And there was no mistaking Venna, motionless just short of the center of the room.
The guard shoved me forward and I hissed back at him. It did give me satisfaction when he flinched, I’ll admit. I’d take a tiny victory when and where I could get it, since it may very well be my last. That thought made my stomach roll.
I came to a stop beside Venna and the binding circle she’d prepared for the ceremony. Behind us stood a tiny table, a podium really, housing the contract, a quill and an ink well.
“Have you made your decision?” she said, her tone mocking me with every syllable.
I hesitated, looking out to the others in the room. Cass stood with her hands on Quinn’s shoulder. Pete held Quinn’s hand. Clive had his arm around Bette. Onlookers all of them, powerless to help me, while terrified that I would name one of them despite knowing that I could not, would not, do that to any of them.
I turned to face Venna, my resolve strong and composed. “I have to choose someone in this room, correct?”
She nodded slowly, fervent anticipation written all over her face. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her own lips, and it reminded me of a lizard’s quick flick. Gross.
“Fine. I’ve made my decision.” I backed up to the table, not taking my eyes off of Venna, while lifting the stainless quill in my hand and stabbing it into my other arm. Blood magic is the strongest, or so I’ve been told, so I knew that for my plan to have any chance of working I had to pull out all of the stops. Even if I wouldn’t be around to see it come to fruition, at least I could die in the knowledge that Quinn would be safe. Other witches might thank me, but they were of no concern to me. Only Quinn.
I scrutinized the empty section at the bottom of the contract, where I was supposed to insert the name of who was to be my sacrifice, and was pleased to say the space left blank was fairly large considering it was only supposed to hold a name. Before I could change my mind, or Venna suspected that I was up to something, I quickly filled in the blank space.
I, Claire Ciapanna name myself as the selected sacrifice, in exchange for the knowledge that the witch Venna de Medici, from this day forward, can no longer harm another living soul, or witch, without it returning three-fold upon herself.
I set down the quill and stepped away from the podium in one fluid motion. I turned to place myself between Venna and the rest of my people, protecting them in case she realized just what I’d done.
I decided to give the cliff notes version of what I’d written. It wasn’t my fault if she was too stupid to read the contract first. It’s not like she could get out of it anyway, she’d already signed it. That was the first in a line of many mistakes that I hoped would be Venna’s downfall. Not today, but someday.
“I choose myself. So mote it be.” I said.
I heard gasps from the side of the room and did my best to shut it out. I could not think of my daughter, standing there waiting to watch her mother die. That would make me crack and I had to remain strong above all else.
The witch’s face twisted in anger, but I detected a subtle flair of happiness from beneath that façade. I’d was willing to bet that she’d been hoping I’d sacrifice myself to save the others. An ancient witch can only go so long without recharging her batteries with the sacrifice of another powerful witch. She’d been using Bette and her violin for centuries to track down those with the gift for that very same purpose.
Given that I suspected she’d killed her thirteenth child, which was possibly a vampire-witch hybrid like me, I also suspected that she was itching to get her magical-hands on another one. I was quite the prize these days. Yay, me.
The only thing different this time was the contract and that told me one of two things: either Venna was not as strong as she pretended and needed the contract to assure her victory, or she was afraid that I might figure out the true nature of my powers just in time to defeat her. With the contract, the possibility of a battle had been removed. She’s assured herself that I could not win this battle. But in doing so, she’d neglected to protect herself from the war ahead, so to speak.
“So mote it be,” Venna echoed, pointing to the center of an elaborate circle she’d drawn on the slate floor.
I was nervous as hell, but I obliged. I couldn’t refrain from taunting her though. “Nice doodles. Can I borrow the chalk later for a game of hopscotch?”
“Not chalk, but bone ash of the witches before you. And for you, there will be no later.” She notched the creep factor up by about a thousand.
Eww, gross. I made sure that I stepped over each symbol and line. Something about getting another witches’ ashes on my ballet flats sent chills up my back.
Venna assumed her position inside of the circle with me, sealing the perimeter with what I assumed was salt, carefully poured out of an old leather pouch.
“Wait! Can I say a few things?” I blurted, not ready for whatever was to come.
She nodded, but reminded me that my magic could not save me.
“Understood.” I looked to the others standing outside of the circle. I had so much yet to say, but nothing seemed appropriate. Still, I tried.
“Quinn, baby. Whatever happens, know that I love you and I’ll always be proud of you. You’re my angel, my gift. I know this is all scary to you, but Aunt Cass will help you.” I looked over to Cass for confirmation. She was crying buckets, but nodded.
I continued, “Your daddy loves you very much too, and he will do anything to protect you. And if he doesn’t then one of mommy’s friends will take care of it.”
It was a thinly-veiled threat and I looked to Pete to be sure that he got my drift. My friends would be watching over Quinn and lord help him if he failed her too. Pete gulped hard, but forced himself to look me straight in the eye. Well, good for him. Maybe he’d finally picked up a pair of stones somewhere.
Back to Quinn, I knelt down and blew her a kiss. “Don’t be scared, baby. It’s fine. I’m fine and you will be too. I promise.”
My child shivered like she’d been touched by a ghost and my heart pitched forward in my chest. I felt the tears running down my face, but I ignored them. I stood and looked to Bette and then Clive, saying, “I love you both and I’m glad that we...” I faltered; it was too much. “Take care of my girl for me, will ya?”
Bette nodded, her lower lip trembling. Clive placed his hand over his heart and tried his hardest to smile for me. “Of course... Always,” he said.
“Okay then, let’s do this.” I forced myself to muster up the tiniest bit of courage. If need be, I would go gentle into that long night. It was the least I could do for the sake of the onlookers.
I took my place back in the center of the circle. I knocked down my mental barriers completely, hoping that without them I would go quicker and save myself at least a little pain by not fighting against her magic. I smashed the little bottle that I’d created so long ago in my head and watched the magic run around like spilled wine. I was as open as I could be, every cell in my body ready to accept my fate.
My body tingled, whether in
expectation of what was to come, or from all the loosed magic I’d set upon myself, I’ll never know. It wasn’t altogether a pleasant sensation, but analyzing that was low on my priority list at the moment.
Venna began to chant in an unfamiliar tongue as she circled around me, first one way and then the other. It was all very rhythmic and hypnotic, and a bit tribal. Not what I’d expect from an ancient Italian witch raised in the noble courts.
The salt ring flared up in a wall of white-orange flames and I lost sight of everyone outside of the circle. I hoped that it meant that they couldn’t see me either. I didn’t know what this was all going to look like, so the idea of Quinn not having to have the vision of my death burned into her memory gave me comfort.
I struggled to relax my body. I wanted to offer no resistance whatsoever to Venna and her magic. With the contract signed, it was a done deal. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I tried to fight against it.
With my mental barriers torn apart and laying in rubble and my magic decanted out of its holding vessel, I let my body go limp. I looked up at Venna, supplicant to her as I knelt to the floor. Through the threadbare black velvet dress she’d made me wear, I could feel the cold floor tiles on my knees. I placed my hands in my lap, palms up, and waited. But I couldn’t resist being a smart ass just one more flipping time. If I was going to die, I might as well go out with a bang.
“What are you waiting for?” I hissed at her. “Go ahead, witch me, bitch.”
Venna strode nearer to me, the power radiating out of her in waves, but she didn’t take the bait. She ignored me completely as she made symbols in the air that glowed briefly, like the trails of a sparkler, then chanted in a strange tongue.
Her form began to glow, slightly at first. Then the chanting became louder and the luminosity morphed into a blinding white light. Looking at Venna was like trying to stare directly at the sun—if it was mere inches away from your face. Seriously, I felt my retina’s pop, I swear.