by Ashley McLeo
Roman is an incubus. He betrayed me. And I slept with him!
Evelyn’s face grew hot as she turned to look at the man she’d thought of nearly every waking minute for the last three weeks. She wanted to cry and have him tell her it wasn’t true, to throw herself in his arms.
Instead, her blue eyes narrowed into a ferocious glare.
“When I get out of here, you better believe I’ll come for you.” Evelyn’s hands grew warm as her power, neglected and rusty, rose to the surface. She concentrated hard, hoping to conjure up the fireballs her family had used in Alexandria. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and she grunted weakly as she glanced at her hands.
Amon laughed at her efforts. “You think we wouldn’t seal the manor from your magic before letting you in? This house is under our control and recognizes other, far greater powers.” Amon’s hand gripped Evelyn’s bicep tightly, and he pulled her down the hallway after Empusa.
She glanced back at Roman as if he would tell her what these “greater powers” were when he’d betrayed her. He followed behind the vampires, head hanging low and tears streaming down his face. She softened for the space of a heartbeat before coming to her senses. Dammit! No! He sold me out! I probably wouldn’t even like him if he didn’t use his incubus woo-woo on me. Evelyn scowled and turned around, determined not to look at Roman again. But I’m one of “the three,” supposedly the three strongest witches on Earth for millennia, what could another witch do that I can’t break? It may take a few tries but I’ll get out of here . . . sooner or later.
She shifted her attention to Amon. The guy was tall and cut, but not in a too-muscly sort of way, and handsome. Maybe one of the most handsome men Evelyn had ever seen. She had to admit Lily and Amon would have made a striking couple if he hadn’t turned out to be a psychopath vampire. Despite having just failed at performing magic, Evelyn called forth her inner siren, the goddess that made all men fall at her feet.
“Didn’t I say your powers won’t work?” Amon scowled at her. Up close his gray eyes were even more stunning, flecked with violet. “Not only is the house in the grips of magical wards, we've tailored the wards to your particular strengths. Any magic you attempt will simmer in your blood. If you continue, it may even drive you insane.” He looked intrigued by the idea.
Evelyn stopped trying to call forth her magic. If I go crazy, I’m never getting out of here.
They were almost at the end of the hall when Empusa took a hard right down a staircase and Amon followed. Evelyn’s senses tickled as they descended the stairs. What is that? Her hands itched to run along the wall to uncover the magic within them. But it was too risky with the twins watching, so she settled for sniffing the air softly as she'd seen Aoife and Brigit do before.
“Are you crying little siren,” Empusa taunted, her voice high, like the clicking of her stilettos on marble.
Evelyn ignored her, focusing instead on the air she inhaled and the static-filled memories that pushed against the recesses of her mind before falling into oblivion. Something about this magic just feels so familiar. . .
They reached the end of the stairway and Empusa extracted a set of keys from a hidden pocket in her skirt. How did she even wiggle into that thing? Evelyn wondered staring at the provocative, skin-tight outfit.
The door opened and a stale breeze flew at them. Empusa stepped down and the tonality of her heels deepened and echoed as the marble roughened to stone. They had reached the basement.
Evelyn shivered.
“Is this necessary?” Roman asked, his voice small as he followed the group into a dark, damp hallway.
“No one asked your opinion, incubus,” Empusa snarled, her lips curling up and giving Evelyn a view of her canines.
Not super long but they look sharp as hell. The thought did not comfort her.
“Would it be so hard for the witch to put her spells over a room that’s nicer? Or at least not as cold? It’s freezing down here.”
“The siren has gotten to you, incubus. A few days apart and you will be back to your senses and invading the dreams of your little southern belles back home.”
Empusa continued down the hall, not caring to hear Roman’s response.
Well, that blows. Evelyn had half hoped the vampire would listen to Roman, though she would not give him the honor of knowing that.
They’d gone forty feet down the dark hall when Empusa came to an abrupt stop.
Evelyn jumped as a large figure appeared from a recessed doorway to Empusa’s right. What the hell?
“This is Felix, your guard,” Amon grinned wickedly.
Tall and muscular, the man, Felix, had an extraordinary amount of body hair. He was filthy and his clothes carried weeks worth of dirt.
Evelyn sniffed and the rank odor of sweat, unwashed body parts, and metal made her woozy.
“I wouldn’t get too close if I were you,” Amon whispered in her ear. “Felix only bathes once a month, after the full moon. If you saw him after he spends the night howling at the moon, you’d understand why. So much blood and mud. Werewolves are disgusting creatures—useful, but disgusting. We’ll have someone else guard you that night.”
An incubus and now a werewolf? What else am I going to see that I don’t understand?
“Stand aside,” Empusa ordered Felix.
Felix grunted and shifted to reveal a door behind him. It was of the design of an old German castle, older than Evelyn could date, with intricate wood work and long metal slats running the length, width, and edges. Evelyn judged it would be impossible to beat down or penetrate without magic. Even for someone like Felix.
Empusa selected an ancient looking key off the key ring, iron with three notches and a large loop at the end. It slid into the door and clicked loudly. The door opened and a stench like old socks worn for a marathon and rolled in urine crawled toward them.
Evelyn gagged.
“Does the room we chose offend you, princess?” Empusa mocked.
She wasn’t sure what it was about the remark that hit her so hard, but fury flooded Evelyn as it never had before. She lifted her gaze to stare into Empusa’s amused eyes and her own eyes narrowed. And then, Evelyn did something she’d never imagined she would do.
She spit on Empusa’s stilettos.
The repercussion was instantaneous. A hiss and a hard slap across the face. Stars shown in Evelyn’s vision and she blinked rapidly. Her hand lifted to cradle her cheek.
“Mind your place, witch. That may be all the discipline I’m permitted to impress upon you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t slip one day.” And with that, Empusa began walking the perimeter of the room, heels clicking on stone, checking that all was secure.
Amon shoved Evelyn into the room with a chuckle.
The room was a large rectangle, with damp stone walls and a rough stone floor. A pile of hay lie at one end topped with a thin blanket. The end closest to Evelyn contained a variety of instruments she had little knowledge of. A metal piece with two opposed, bi-pronged forks attached to a small belt, two slats of wood as tall as the cross she imagined Jesus was hung on but in the shape of an “X”, dozens of disposable scalpels, and a small saw stood out to her.
She cringed.
"We know it’s not much, but this environment will be most conducive to your training. If you show promise you’ll move into the rooms above, where the other Acolytes of Hecate stay. For now though, this is how you will show your penance."
Training? Acolytes of Hecate? Despite her ignorance Evelyn stared Empusa down unwilling to show how little she understood.
“This one is strong sister. The defiance radiates from her,” Amon said, pushing Evelyn toward the hay.
“We’ll see how strong she is. Tomorrow we begin conversion therapy,” Empusa sneered, as they backed out of the room.
Evelyn walked to the hay, knowing it would be fruitless to attempt escape right then, with no access to magic, two vampires, a very scary werewolf, and a traitorous incubus on her heels. The sharp bri
stles of hay poked her skin as she laid down. Evelyn considered laying the blanket on top of the hay, but had a feeling she wouldn’t last without it covering her, protecting her from what was sure to be a frigid night. Evelyn was about to turn her back to the door and release the tears that had been building behind her hard exterior since she’d realized Roman’s betrayal when she heard a chuckle. The twins were still there, watching her, smiling at her pain and humiliation. She lifted her chin and stared back through the dark, defiant, unwilling to show weakness while they watched.
“This one will be fun to play with,” Amon said.
Evelyn caught one last glimmer of Empusa’s brilliant smile as the door shut behind them, trapping her in darkness.
A screech shot through Evelyn’s nightmare. She jumped and an uncomfortable prickling punctured her side. What the hell? The stiffness of hay in her hand brought her back to her terrifying reality. A voice she did not recognize echoed through a slit at the bottom of the heavy wood door, followed by the sound of metal skidding on stone.
“Breakfast.”
Breakfast? At least I won’t starve to death before I figure out how to get out of here.
She looked up. A metal box lay on the ground five feet from her bed, filled with two pieces of toast, an orange, and a bottle of water. Maybe I spoke too soon . . .
Evelyn picked up the box and brought it to her bed of hay, the only semi-comfortable spot in the room. She bit into the toast. It was dry and burnt but dammit she would eat it. Evelyn knew she would need every ounce of energy she could muster to plan her escape. Also, she was ravenous. Dinner last night had not gone as planned. No candlelight, no wine, and no romantic dancing in the snow followed by a dip in the hot tub after dinner. Roman, that bastard! I can’t believe I was so stupid. It’s the worst time in my life to fall in love and I fucking went and did it.
Evelyn cringed, but couldn’t take the words back.
Yes. She’d been in love with him, even if he hadn’t known it. Hell, I barely knew it. Even now, the memory of him kissing her neck sent chills up her spine. She supposed it was the incubus in him, a creature she took to have powers similar to a siren over the opposite sex. I didn’t use my powers on him, but he used his on me. She slammed her fist into the hay as she recalled the initial spark of their touch and how she’d been drawn to him, despite many good reasons not to be. Evelyn suspected even her father’s quick agreement to their relationship had been fabricated by Roman’s powers. I can’t trust any of my feelings from the last few weeks. The uncertainty of it all was terrifying.
She took another bite of toast. Is this how people feel around me? Is this how Lily felt around me? Uncertain of how they feel, like I’d mess with their mind whenever I want? No wonder we never clicked . . .
Without warning, the door swung open and Evelyn jumped.
Felix, brawny and intimidating as ever, stepped aside to reveal the curvy, lovely figure of Empusa.
The vampire sauntered into the room and Evelyn’s shoulders lowered an inch into relaxation. At least this time Empusa was wearing wedges. The sound of stilettos on stone had plagued her nightmares.
Evelyn sniffed. Empusa smelled of espresso. I wonder if vampires only drink blood or if they eat other things, too?
“Ah! Someone fed you. Roman’s idea, I’m sure. Neither Amon nor I would even consider doing such a thing, not having eaten food in years ourselves.”
Well, there’s one question answered.
Evelyn shoved the last bite of toast into her mouth and downed her water in two consecutive moves, in case Empusa decided to deny her the rest of her meager meal.
“I suppose you’ll be needing a chamber pot, too,” Empusa wrinkled her perfect nose. “I would hate for it to stink in here while your lessons are occurring. Your teacher would certainly take offense.”
“And who would that be? I assume two vampires would have little to teach a witch,” Evelyn said, her curiosity and ego getting the best of her.
“Ahh, well, you are right in thinking my brother and I will not be teaching you magic. Although you are wrong in thinking we have nothing to teach you. For one, we could teach you not to lie to our faces as your mother did in Alexandria. It’s clear you do not have it with you, but be sure we will procure it from your family soon enough.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “You’d think after thousands of years of being alive you’d be less cryptic. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Seraphina’s book, you imbecile! The same thing we’ve been seeking for centuries. Our spy informed us you found it.”
Evelyn twitched, taken aback. Their spy knew Lily had found the book? How could that be? No one except the McKays knew . . . And why the hell do the vampires even want the book so badly?
“I see our spy was not lying. Well, well. This is good news. It will only be a matter of time before my brother and I have it, then.” Empusa smiled a malicious smile and Evelyn shuddered. “I must go. Until next time, witch. Felix!”
Felix lumbered in with a gait that reeked of wildness. He leered at Evelyn and she realized that he must have heard her crying last night, heard all the pain, fear, and sorrow she was trying to hide now.
“Position the witch on St. Andrew’s Cross. Make sure she’s bound well but not too tight—wouldn’t want discomfort to hinder her lessons today.” With that Empusa turned on her heels and strode out of the room.
Evelyn’s eyes swung to the “X” shaped cross on the other side of the room. She rose, hoping to avoid Felix’s hands on her and retain whatever dignity she could as she made her way to the cross.
Felix growled behind her, but he kept his distance, apparently content to bask in the fear radiating off of her.
As Evelyn drew closer to the cross and the instruments around it her eyes bulged. A side table adorned with a feather duster, a rod with leather tassels, and a sharpened stick tinged an ominous shade of rust sat beside the cross. The cross itself had patches of lighter wood the same shade of rust-red as the sharpened stick. And old, dried blood wasn’t even the worst of it. The leather straps where Evelyn deduced her hands were to go had indentions in the wood attached to them, small cuts the exact size of a person’s finger nail. While she wasn’t sure torture was the cross’s intended purpose, that was certainly what this one was used for. Evelyn gulped as she stepped up to the cross and turned to face Felix.
His smile had grown impossibly more lascivious. And as his feral eyes raked over her, Evelyn knew, even without her mind magic, what he was thinking.
“I swear if you touch me,” Evelyn started, her voice sounding stronger than she felt.
“You’ll do what?” Felix cut her off. “You’re as powerless as a human down here.” He shoved Evelyn into the cross and bound her hands first, then her feet. On his way back up, Felix’s face paused inches from Evelyn’s groin, and the werewolf inhaled deeply.
She made to kick Felix in the face but her feet jerked to a stop inches from the cross and Felix laughed a low, rumbling laugh.
Evelyn clenched her hands and jaw in rage as Felix took the liberty of sniffing her in all the parts of her body she never wished anyone to smell. He stopped the longest at her armpits, which Evelyn was aware had soaked through the thin shirt she wore.
“Adrenaline,” Felix said, as one would say “delicious” when enjoying a decadent dessert.
Evelyn closed her eyes, not wanting to see what Felix planned to do next, and was astonished to hear the soft sound of predatory footsteps withdrawing from the room. Only when the door creaked closed was she sure she was safe, at least for the time being. She exhaled, trying to regain control of her heart rate. Minutes passed like years as she ran through the possibilities of what could happen. Being in a basement with no exterior light, even for a night, had given her a profound sense of disorientation. Is it really morning, or did they feed me breakfast because I woke up? Or is bread, a bit of fruit, and water all I’ll ever get?
More questions spiraled through her mind, exhausting h
er with all the uncertainties and fear that came with them. Her head had just started to droop—sleeping in a bed of hay was more romantic than it was practical—when the door flew open once more.
Her eyes narrowed and her hands burned, begging to release a flame, the tiniest spell, with which to punish the man she saw. But her magic would not come. “Get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you,” Evelyn growled.
Roman dropped his chiseled face to the floor and it became further illuminated by the flashlight he carried.
Evelyn squinted. Her eyes, now accustomed to darkness, were having a hard time adjusting to the sudden influx of light. Why does he look so dark and fuzzy?
It was only when Roman shifted to the side that Evelyn saw the ghostlike figure floating before Roman’s solid body, obscuring it. The figure was opaque navy except for the eyes which were two solid spots of black above the mouth, another black spot in what Evelyn assumed to be the ghost’s face. The ghost had limbs, though they looked amorphous, like the amoebas she’d seen under a microscope in high school, growing and shrinking at the creature’s will as it moved. What the hell is that thing?