by Ashley McLeo
“It’s empty,” Brigit declared, throwing the door wide.
The room was spartan with a lumpy pillow and single blanket tossed over a twin bed, a rickety night stand, and a huge chamber pot. The decoration was minimal, but garish, with dark red velvet curtains over the windows and elaborate fleur-de-lis wallpaper patterning each wall. Meant to be grand, the overall effect was an eyesore, and Lily’s attention shifted to the room’s simpler aspects. She eyed the thin fleece blanket with concern. Whoever slept there must have been freezing during the cool desert nights. Anger bubbled inside her at the thought of Em huddled in this very room, shivering and frightened.
“Where do you think they took her?” Lily asked.
Brigit didn’t answer right away.
Lily watched as Brigit ran her hands along the walls, before walking to the bed and examining the pillow.
“I’m not sure it was Emily who was kept here. This certainly doesn’t belong to her,” she said finally holding up a dark strand of hair. “We should move on.”
Lily sighed, though from relief or frustration she wasn’t sure. Was Em kept in worse conditions? she wondered.
Entering the hallway once more, Lily noted that no one, for better or worse, had managed to break through Brigit’s sealing charm.
“The faster we find Em, the faster we can help,” Brigit said, reading Lily’s thoughts as she swung open the second door without hesitation. The aroma of rotting flesh stampeded into the hallway, and Lily’s hands flew to her mouth in horror.
Corpses filled the room. Piled one on top of the other, they towered in columns above Lily’s head. Her eyes latched onto a small body nearest the door. A girl no more than eight lay left to rot in a small pool of dark, congealed blood.
Brigit slammed the door shut. “Those bastards,” she said, making her way toward the third door, jaw clenched and eyes hard.
“What if—?” Lily asked, her voice shaking.
“If there’s more? While we’ll never forget such a sight, corpses cannot hurt us. We have nothing to fear from them,” Brigit answered, flinging open the door.
Three women stared down at them from the opposite wall. Unthinkingly, Lily pushed past Brigit, drawn to them. The painting was in the style of the old Italian masters, though the subjects were far more ancient.
“They’re like us, but . . . different,” she whispered, unable to tear her gaze from the life-like oils.
Her hair was longer in the painting, and she was pregnant, but there was no mistaking those penny-colored eyes: Seraphina, Sara’s twin, sat smiling upon the grass, enjoying the sun’s rays on her face as she watched children play. Eve stood to Seraphina’s right, her long blonde hair flying in the wind. She alone was aware of the viewer, and her piercing blue eyes stared back at the whoever deigned to look upon her, challenging and seductive. Lily’s gaze shifted last to the woman, who made her the most uncomfortable. Dark haired, green eyed and athletic looking, Lilith was leaning against a willow tree playing with branches that, even considering the painting’s two dimensional limitations, seemed to dance. Each sister radiated an alien power and joy—even Eve, who alone of the three did not smile.
“The original three of Hecate,” Brigit said, sidling up to her. “One look at them and you’d know. They’re not of this world.”
Lily nodded, shifting her attention to a candlelit altar where two other paintings hung. They were modern, monochromatic, and inexplicably mesmerizing. Only when Lily moved closer to inspect the deep navy canvas, then the pearl gold one, did she see the artist had painted a face on each. Or at least some semblance of a face, with huge round eyes, and a gaping circular mouth. Lily shivered. Beautiful as the paintings were, something about them creeped her out.
“We should go. Emily is waiting,” Brigit said.
In the hallway, Brigit’s sealing charm remained intact, though Lily thought she could distinguish the faint sounds of fighting on the other side, a sign the charm had withstood attacks and was weakening.
“Let me go first. We don’t know how they’ve been keeping Emily. If I were her . . .” Brigit trailed off, but Lily understood. Any sort of mother would want someone else to take the brunt of their child’s pain.
Lily nodded and Brigit stood before the door as if facing off with a foe.
“Arma,” the shield charm whipped off her tongue to surround them in a bubble, and Brigit threw open the door.
Lily caught herself on Brigit’s shoulder as her knees buckled. Red covered every surface. Childlike images rendered in blood were drawn upon the wall. Though it smelled better than the first two rooms, the metallic scent of blood mixed with the faint stench of excrement was still revolting. Across the room, Emily lay motionless on a filthy twin bed stripped bare of sheets and blankets. Two heads—one dark, one light—were bent over her on the other side of the bed.
Brigit lobbed a fireball high over the bed and Georgina and Amon jumped back, their faces red and glistening.
“Lily love, we were wondering when you’d show up. You’re a bit late, we’re about done here,” Amon said, grinning wickedly.
Georgina smirked and sauntered over to press her body against Amon’s chest. She nipped his ear, leaving a smudge of red on the lobe that she proceeded to lick away with tremendous care.
“Get away from her,” Lily screamed, stepping up against the boundary of Brigit’s shield.
Amon’s laugh was cold. “You are such an attractive creature, Lily. Shame you’re so very dull witted. I heard Lilith was the same.” His face tightened into a scowl. “Power from the weakest of the three flows in your veins. I should have guessed. How could you not have known what I am? Seen through the act I put on? Were you that desperate for someone to pay attention to you? I’m mistaken if you’re not still seeing me as your little boyfriend. So tolerant of your quirks. Your prudish nature. You never could give me what I wanted. What a real woman would give.” He squeezed Georgina’s rear and she moaned with arousal. “Well, now you’ll have to pay for that. Georgina, darling, why don’t you show Lily here how a real woman acts?”
Georgina lunged, and Lily felt her first fireball materialize in her hand as rage burned through her to fuel the flame.
“Down!” Lily screamed, and Brigit’s shield evaporated, leaving her exposed.
Georgina grinned, dodging the fireball Lily shot at her with ease.
“Flamarba,” Lily said, throwing her arms wide with only seconds to spare.
Georgina jerked to a stop inches away from the chest-high line of fire that encircled Lily and Brigit. Her face contorted in anger at having been thwarted.
“Yes . . . hide behind your little flames,” Georgina taunted, prowling the circle’s edge. “You’ll have to come out sooner or later. Unless, of course, you’re hoping to witness the old one’s draining.” A weak groan carried across the room and Georgina’s smile broadened.
Lily chanced a glance at Brigit, who twitched her head. For the first time she found herself grateful that others could read her thoughts. Wordlessly, Lily allowed her shaky hold on the flamabra spell to fall. In the same instant, Brigit’s flame gate rose seamlessly from the ground to cover the retracted spell. Then, Lily sprinted toward the fire.
Georgina jumped back. Her eyes widened as Lily cleared the flames, each hand poised to launch a fireball, and hit the ground running.
Without missing a beat, Brigit lifted her flame gate high over Georgina’s head, trapping the two of them inside together.
Lily crossed the room in seconds and hurled herself through the air to collide with Amon, knocking him off Em’s body and to the floor.
“That,” Amon hissed, his quick reflexes and superior strength apparent as he forced Lily beneath him and straddled her, “was a very stupid thing to do.”
His hands shot toward her throat and he began moving on top of her. “Remember how you liked this? Let’s see if you wouldn’t like what came next.” Removing his hands from her neck he fingered her shirt buttons, his eyes locked on hers
.
“GET OFF ME!” Lily screamed, trying with all her might to buck him off.
“Shhh. You’re getting me excited. I don’t like to rush through foreplay if I don’t have to,” Amon whispered.
Through Lily’s terror, a flash of an idea. She knew it could backfire, as much as she knew it was her only chance to survive unharmed. Please, please, please, let this work, she thought laying her palms flat on the ground and closing her eyes.
“That’s better. Nice and quiet, the way you should be,” Amon growled.
Through her eyelids Lily could feel his eyes hovering over her, captivated by her, in a way he had never been before. He began to shift up and down her body. Lily sensed he was sniffing her, searching perhaps for the sweetest piece of skin to puncture.
Well, he won’t get that far, she thought concentrating hard on the ground beneath her palms, the dark wells of the earth and pools of water held within them. Water she could use if she bought enough time.
“Liam . . . I mean Amon?” she said keeping her voice small. He had always liked it when she was shy.
He raised an intrigued eyebrow.
“I always wanted this, you know. Well, not exactly like this, but I hoped . . . could you be gentle? For my first time—please?” Jesus, she thought, hating herself as she bit her lower lip and blinked.
Amon cocked his head, his mouth breaking into a hungry smirk. “I’ll try, but I make no promises, Lily love. We have so many secrets to discover, you and I, and I’ve waited an awfully long time to find out yours.”
Lily waited until his body eased over hers, his warm breath swirled above her lips, and scent of sandalwood and warmed coins filled her nose. She ripped her hands from the ground. A geyser of water did what her arms were too weak to do, and Amon soared across the room to hit the far wall. She scrambled to her knees and threw a pitifully small fireball in his direction.
Amon rolled to one side, dodging it, and rose into a predatory hunch.
Oh shit! Lily thought, her hands trembling as she tried to generate another fireball.
“You little slut! Wait until I get my hands—”
A massive inferno flew past Lily’s shoulder, missing its mark by inches. She turned to see Brigit flinging fireball after fireball at Amon as if she were a human machine gun.
“You’ll never lay your hands on any of my daughters again!” Brigit roared, stepping through a pile of ash on the ground, her hands overflowing with hot, blue flames and a mother’s fury.
Amon’s face contorted in fear and in four smooth steps he leapt out the window, a thin figure retreating into the night.
“The coward,” Brigit huffed. Her eyes narrowed as she assisted Lily to her feet and over to the bed where Emily lay motionless.
Em was pale as snow, save for the handful of scarlet divots that lined her neck, arms, and legs.
Lily placed her hand on Emily’s cold chest. One second. Two. Three. There it was! The faintest thump of Em’s heart against her hand. There was still hope, no matter how small.
“We have to get her out of here, but how are we going to move her without hurting her?” Lily asked.
Emily rose an inch above the bed.
“Levitation charm,” Brigit said, directing Emily out the door. “She’s very weak. I doubt she’d survive if we carried her, no matter how gentle we were. This way I can float her above any fighting that may still be happening. No more harm will come to her.”
Lily froze, her face pale. She’d been so preoccupied with finding Em and then defeating Georgina and Amon that she’d completely forgotten about the rest of her family fighting. What if Em isn’t the only person we float out tonight? she wondered.
“My sisters are quite powerful witches, Lil—Bahiti, Fiona, and Morgane as well. I’m confident they will survive this night. Remember when we’re out there, if you’re unsure of what to do, cast a shield. No one can leave here until you do.”
A list of defensive spells ran through Lily’s mind as they strode down the corridor with Emily floating between her and Brigit. They were feet from the enchanted crimson door when Brigit stopped. A faint creaking of wood was coming from the first room. Bringing her fingers to her lips, Brigit tiptoed over and eased the door open.
Aoife and Mary whirled to face them, arms at the ready to duel, as Brigit entered the room.
“Brig! There you are! Will you take a look at this?” Aoife said, dropping her combat stance and pointing at the wall.
“Aoife! Where is everyone else? Are they alright?” Brigit asked, her features torn between curiosity and worry.
“Aye they’re fine, I wouldn’t leave them out there in need. The vamps all ran for the hills. Even Empusa once we got serious with the roasting and toasting. Haven't a clue where Amon went off to, but I know he’s nowhere in the grand hall or any of the rooms we passed on our way in. The rest of their fighters were a laugh, weak daemons, fae, and witches, none with any remarkable power. A few even threw up a white flag. Said they’d been coerced. Morgane and Bahiti are passing judgment on them now. Fiona and Gwenn are patching up the humans and modifying any memories that they can. Unfortunately, most have been through too much to alter it all without erasing days of their life.”
Brigit’s face relaxed and she stepped closer to the wall. “How’d you find it?”
“The doorway was concealed with strong magic. It wouldn’t have been noticeable to the eye or touch. The caster left only a faint trace behind. If you were in a hurry you would have missed it. I asked the room to reveal its secrets and a door opened.”
A door? Lily crept closer to the wall and saw it was jutting out and taller than her by a few inches. She gasped as the wall flew in at Aoife’s slight push to reveal a long, dark tunnel. Her confusion grew as Brigit began to feel the wall as she had the first time they entered the room, eyes closed and lips moving soundlessly.
Her eyes popped open. “Can you and Mary investigate this? I’ll gather the others and meet you back at Bahiti’s,” Brigit asked, her tone urgent.
Aoife, who seemed to gather a deeper subtext, nodded. “I thought you’d say that. The witch who was kept here—”
“Or stayed here,” Brigit added, eyebrows raised.
“The witch may be able to tell us something. Mary’s been collecting hairs off the pillow for identification just in case,” Aoife finished.
“Let’s go find Fiona,” Brigit said, grabbing Lily by the wrist before she could ask what was going on.
The grand hall was a far cry from the glittering, elegant room Lily had walked through an hour before. Scorch marks the size of tires peppered the walls as liberally as chandelier crystals covered the floor. Black piles of vampire ash dotted the ground. Five captives sat on the floor before Empusa’s red throne, now occupied by Morgane. Amon’s throne lay in blackened ruins next to its twin. A scrap of scorched blue velvet and an arm of polished wood was all that remained of its former grandeur. It was, Lily thought, as if an earthquake and a fire had occurred simultaneously.
Bahiti appeared at Brigit’s side, her eyes alive with excitement beneath a head of wild, warrior hair. “I’ve called my sisters. They should be here any minute. What do you think we should do with the group who surrendered?”
“If they are innocent, they will need sanctuary, at least while Empusa still walks Alexandrian streets. Your coven has a protocol for such things, I assume?”
Bahiti nodded.
“Good. Set them up in a safe house so we can question them later. Lock the ones deemed guilty in one of the rooms through there. There’s one I’m sure you’ll agree they’re well suited for,” Brigit said, pointing to the crimson door. “Em won’t last much longer without help. We’ll meet you back at your place.”
“Goddess be!” Fiona cried when they found her. Rising to her feet she rushed over to Emily, abandoning a woman in the midst of emerging from a drug-induced stupor. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, but barely. The spark of life could leave her at any moment. They were try
ing to their damnedest to drain her when we found them,” Brigit said.
Fiona assessed Em’s bite marks, cuts, and bruises. “We’ll need more of everything I brought, but I have to triage a bit right now if she’s to survive long enough to find supplies. She’s too weak to move farther. Put her over here, Brig,” Fiona instructed, throwing together a pile of dingy blankets and smoothing them.
“She’ll need blood soon, won’t she?” Lily asked. She watched as Fiona pulled a tonic of butcher’s broom and garlic from her bag and began applying it to the bite marks.
“You’ve been studying,” Fiona said, approval in her voice. “First we must stop the damage from spreading. Butcher’s broom is the best thing we’ve found to prevent vampire venom from propagating in a contaminated system or feeding on any new blood that may enter it. Garlic makes it impossible for venom to further transmute the cells it may have already reached. Once that’s done I’ll administer this.” Fiona pulled a tiny golden vial from her bag. “Hawthorn, acacia, and blood of a person descended from the fae. There are few substances more magically or medicinally potent than fairy blood. I don’t usually carry it, but I had a feeling I might need it today. Hawthorn and acacia accelerate fae blood’s healing properties. Vampire bites are cursed bites, so there’s no guarantee, but it’s the best chance Emily’s got,” she trailed off, looking down at the elderly woman.
Fiona worked in silence and finally, after the application of the fae blood blend, sat back on her heels.
They waited.
Lily had never seen Em look so terrible. The gray tinge of her skin made Lily want to recoil, but she stayed, unable to betray the woman who had always been there for her. An image of Florence’s opaque gray body popped into Lily’s mind unbidden, and Lily sighed. Even Florence looked better off than Em, Lily thought. Dead hundreds of years and yet there she was spry as can be. If Florence hadn’t been misty I would have thought she was alive. As Lily stared down at Em, the images of Florence and Em began to blur in her mind, pulsing back and forth between life and death, family of blood and family of heart.