Covenkeepers

by Denise Gwen

  A lightning flash of electricity filled the room. The vampires screamed as the bolt burst into a ball of fire and shot through the vampire’s belly. He instantly split in two and his halved body cracked against the wall. The vampires wailed in rage as he erupted into flames and dissipated into a cloud of dust.

  Victoria herked back and vomited all over the floor.

  Still suffused with her surprise victory, Maddie pointed her wand indiscriminately at the remaining vampires. Their eyes turned leaden and they hissed malevolently at her, but they made no move toward her and not one vampire renewed his addresses to Victoria.

  “Just try it!” she snarled. “Just try it!”

  The remaining vampires slumped back against the walls, snarling with a barely suppressed rage.

  “That’s enough.” Bartholomew’s voice cut through the cacophony of noise. “Silence!”

  An ominous stillness greeted this remark.

  His eyes glittering, Bartholomew lifted his left hand a few inches above the armrest; a sudden pressure bore down upon Maddie, on the hand clutching the wand. Maddie resisted the pressure at first, but, finally, with tremendous resistance on her part, the invisible presence finally pushed the wand, clutched in her resisting hand, back into her pocket. At last, with a heavy sigh, Maddie finally stopped fighting it. Lord Bartholomew was too strong, too powerful for her.

  Victoria sidled up beside her, unconsciously digging her short purple nails into Maddie’s skin. With every exhalation of breath, Malamar let off little tendrils of fur as he dug his sharp claws into her shoulder. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve hurt like Hades, but Maddie knew he was as frightened as Victoria.

  Maddie needed to be strong for all three of them.

  And then, just like that, Maddie’s fear flew from her body.

  Frightened no more. No, she was mad. Good and mad. A sudden impulse rose up in her heart, an impulse to pull her wand out of her pocket, point it at Bartholomew, and annihilate him and his entire crew of vampires. She didn’t know if she possessed the power to destroy a powerful vampire like Bartholomew, but she’d sure like to try. But then her better sense prevailed; if she tried anything, the entire body of vampires, Bartholomew included, would descend upon her and her companions, and they’d all die within a matter of seconds.

  No, better to wait. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out slowly. She knew how to control her anger. Much wiser to remain calm. Bartholomew was too strong for her; no doubt, he’d sensed her impulse, was ready for it. No, better to wait. Be patient and wait.

  So this is what Nana meant, how, in the heat of battle, a witch can feel cool and collected, even though she’s in great danger.

  Maddie’s heart swelled with an innate pride. Despite the terror of this moment, she possessed the power—even in a fraught moment like this one—to recall Nana’s teachings. It amazed her, and, as she forced herself to remain calm, she took in the measure of the situation and regained her composure.

  Focus on your breathing.

  In the uneasy silence, she sensed, not only her own breath, but the cadaverous breath of the enraged vampires. Their hatred for her washed over her like a soothing balm; it filled her senses, it suffused her, it filled her up. It surprised her, seriously, their animosity toward her. And it gave her a sense of satisfaction, this knowledge, that she, a mere thirteen-year-old apprentice witch, possessed the power to bring a roomful of vampires to a spitting frenzy.

  Bartholomew steepled his elegantly tapered fingers together again, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Well,” he said slowly, his deep, sonorous voice filling the air. “We’ve got a feisty little witch here, don’t we?”

  Maddie zipped her lips shut. She raised herself up tall, at her full height of four feet and eight inches. Not much, she knew, but Nana always told her to make the most of what she had.

  A bold stroke on her part, wasn’t it, annihilating a greedy vampire in the presence of his flock? But now, at least, she’d shown them her own particular strength. The vampires feared her as much as they hated her; that much appeared apparent, for, under the waves of hatred, she sensed another emotion, one she hadn’t expected to notice in a colony of vampires—an undercurrent of fear. Fear was good, and she felt grateful for all the good she’d wrested from this situation. They were trapped in a bad spot; she, her friend, and her entire family.

  She’d impressed Bartholomew with the ferocity of her wand-work, but he still maintained control, and her family remained in mortal danger. She needed to remember this last part in particular.

  “My dear,” Bartholomew said in his softly insinuating voice, “my dear, you possess much warmth of spirit.”

  Maddie remained silent, still. She focused her entire energy on repelling the power of Bartholomew’s seductive voice. Something else Nana had drilled into her head: the sensuous powers of vampires. A vampire could seduce a victim solely through the power of his voice. Maddie knew this in her heart; but it was one thing to be told of the powers of vampires, and another thing entirely to listen to the softly lilting tone of this masterful vampire’s voice and resist the urge to do anything he asked of her, including the forfeit of her own life.

  “My dear,” Bartholomew continued, “my Master desires a wife for his bastard son, Drakkur. Ezekiel and I believe you shall make a simply transcendent wife for Ezekiel’s beloved son.”

  Maddie set her jaw squarely. “I do not desire it, my lord.”

  The vampires hissed softly in response.

  “You may not desire it, my dear,” Bartholomew said coolly, “but preparations are already set in motion. And,” he added, his voice growing husky, “I’ve ensured you shall have no other recourse but to accept my Master’s proposal.”

  “I do not desire it, my lord.”

  Bartholomew sneered.

  “Nay, not only do I not desire it, but I am asking you to return my family to me. My entire family—my father, my grandmother, my mother and my sister.”

  The vampires stirred restlessly.

  A faint smile flitted across Bartholomew’s features. “My dear, you are a strong, independent thinking young woman. You shall make a splendid wife for my Master’s son. My only regret is I myself do not have a son to whom I could present to you as a worthy bridegroom.”

  “I’m grateful, my lord, for the fact of you not having a son.”

  Bartholomew ignored her. “As the wife of Drakkur, you will gain powers seven-fold. You will rise to prominence in the Wiccan and in the vampire world. You will rise to sit on the left side of Ezekiel at his table. After your first male child is born, you shall be turned into a vampire, and you will become a mistress vampire, and a leader among witches.”

  A lump filled her throat. “I only want my family back.”

  Then Bartholomew threw down the gauntlet. “I shall not release your family until you agree to my master’s terms.”

  “You shall restore my family to me,” Maddie repeated, her eyes filling with tears, “before I agree to anything.”

  Bartholomew half-rose, half-levitated, gazing darkly into her eyes. “My dear, you will not dictate terms to me.”

  “I shall not obey you.”

  Even as she spat these words out, tiny tendrils of fear laced in her heart. She’d gone too far. Bartholomew sat back down, a terrible smile pulling at the corners of his thin lips. “That,” he said gravely, “is your first mistake.”

  ****

  An ominous silence.

  With every force of her spirit, Maddie stood before Bartholomew, trembling yet defiant. Bartholomew steepled his fingers together again; judging from the admiring look on his face, he appeared to enjoy this quality in her, this measure of obstinacy. She’d use his admiration to her advantage, because the bitter fact remained: she was in a pickle.

  She hazarded a sidelong glance out of the corner of her eye, and noticed the vampires lining the walls remained still, silent. None of that sibilant hissing she’d heard when she first walked into this trap.
This secretly pleased her; she’d caught them by surprise when she vaporized the greedy fang-biter who’d tried to snack on Victoria. But she also knew it’d take only one word from Bartholomew, and all semblance of order would fly out the window on stealthy bat wings.

  Speaking of windows . . . Maddie blinked. Something moved, something dark, just outside her bedroom window. She flinched.

  Victoria pressed against her, trembling. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Maddie whispered. “But I think I saw something.”

  “You what?”

  “Hush.”

  Maddie’s senses shifted into high alert.

  Am I seeing things that aren’t really there?

  Her rational mind doubted it, but she knew in her heart she saw something darting past the back window, the one overlooking the woods.

  Bartholomew stirred, glanced out the window, then gazed back at Maddie.

  He senses it, too.

  She inhaled deeply and forced herself to keep her expression neutral. She did not want to betray any more of her thoughts or feelings to this masterful vampire.

  “If I agree to marry your master’s son,” she said slowly, measuring out the taste of her words, “will you release my family?”

  Bartholomew glanced out the back window once more, then focused his steely gaze on Maddie’s features. “Yes, as to the women only.”

  “But what of my father?”

  “There are other concerns with your father.”

  “You must release him. I demand it of you.”

  “My dear,” Bartholomew sneered. “You are in no position to demand anything of me.”

  True, true.

  Another shadow darted past the window. No mistaking it this time. Maddie’s eyes did not play tricks on her; someone—or something—outside her bedroom window hovered to one side, but kept flying past the window periodically, obviously checking on the progress inside the room. And Maddie didn’t know if this person or thing was a friend or a foe. That made her even more nervous.

  The other vampires, apparently sensing a change in the dynamic of the room, stirred. They looked at one another with uneasy expressions on their pallid, dead faces. One or two glanced out the window, baring their fangs as they did so.

  A vampire with bits of dust still clinging to his hair—he’d been standing right next to the one Maddie vaporized—turned and gazed out the window. He whirled around and said, “Master, I see—”

  He never finished his statement. In the next instant, the window shattered and shards of razor-sharp points of glass shot across the room. The vampires, startled from their half-awakened reveries, jumped and cowered as Bettina, crouched on her broomstick, and with Roby tucked behind her, shattered the windowpane and tore into the room.

  The vampires screamed in rage and consternation as bits and pieces of glass shards bit into their pale, translucent skin. They ignored their pain and attacked. They clawed at Bettina, they hissed, they scratched; some tried to disable her broomstick, but she, clever witch, possessed the advantage of surprise. She jumped nimbly off her broom and flung strands of garlic-filled pendants at the vampires. The pendants, charmed with an incantation, wrapped their black silk cords tightly around the vampires’ necks. They could not pull the pendants off. As each pendant landed on a vampire’s skin, the vampire screeched in agony, doubling over, his or her skin sizzling with a sickening stench. The room filled with the acrid odor of burning, rotted flesh.

  Bettina yanked her wand from her cloak, nodded at Maddie, and together the two sisters shrieked, “Exporeateus!”

  With the exception of Bartholomew, who’d contained himself in a translucent, bubble-like enclosure, the remaining vampires were eviscerated on the spot; they split in two, dissipating into clouds of ancient dust and smoke.

  Ezekiel taught Bartholomew how to create a protective shield. That was mighty nice of him, but he sure didn’t care for the fate of the other vampires, did he?

  With an insouciant smile, Bartholomew watched as piles of silt and decay, the last remaining vestiges of his vampire entourage, piled up at his feet, spilling dust all over his shiny black shoes. Bettina dispatched the last standing vampire, then whirled around, clutching her wand, to gaze at Bartholomew. She panted, beads of sweat dotting her brow. “Come on, you coward.”

  “A coward, am I?”

  “Yes, a coward!”

  She raised her wand, but Bartholomew, with his lightning-quick vampire reflexes, leaped to the ceiling. “You wretch!” he screamed, thrusting his hand at her. Bettina cried out as if she’d been sucker-punched. She flew backwards across the room, crashing against the far wall with a sickening thud.

  Maddie cried out and ran to her sister, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  “My dear,” Bartholomew hissed.

  Maddie looked over at Bartholomew, hatred flooding her heart. “What is it now, Bar—”

  Her voice died in her throat. In the moment that she laid eyes on him, Maddie realized her mistake.

  Oh, how could I be so stupid?

  Limp in Bartholomew’s arms, in a dead faint, lay Victoria. He’d bitten her, the evidence of which appeared all too clearly on her pale white skin. Tiny rivulets of blood crept down her neck. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a doll.

  “Victoria!” Maddie cried.

  “If you want to see your dear little friend alive,” Bartholomew said, “then you will join me at Salem Castle.”

  And with that, he took two brusque steps and, with Victoria in his arms, shot through the broken window and flew away into the darkening night sky.

  8

  “Maddie!” Bettina cried out.

  Maddie ran to her sister’s side and gasped. Bettina lay crumpled on the floor, writhing in pain. Maddie pressed a cool hand against her sister’s cheek. “Oh, my dear, sweet Bettina. You’re running a fever.”

  “We must fly to Salem,” Bettina gasped. “Tonight.”

  “But I need to take care of you, you’re hurt.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Bettina said. She grabbed ahold of Maddie’s arm and struggled to reach a standing position. She wobbled for a few moments, then took a few halting steps. “I’m sore,” she admitted, “but otherwise I’m fine. We’ve got to leave for Salem. Tonight.”

  As Maddie gazed at her sister, swirls of memory circled in her head. Something didn’t seem quite right, she couldn’t quite place it, until, suddenly—

  “Hey, why are you here? I saw you in the crystal ball. You were trapped in the dungeon at Salem Castle, with Mama and Nana. I saw rats attacking you.”

  Bettina shook her head. “That’s the image I projected. But don’t you remember? You couldn’t really see my face.”

  Maddie stopped and considered. She recalled the cloudy, murky images of the crystal ball; she recalled the dungeon scene with the enormous rats; she remembered Mama’s face, then Nana’s, and she strained to recall the image of Bettina’s face, but she realized, with a sudden thunderbolt of surprise, she hadn’t really seen her sister’s face in the crystal ball. “I saw your blonde hair hanging low over your face, but I didn’t actually see your face.”

  “That’s right,” Bettina said.

  Maddie started. “That’s right. I saw what I thought was you, lying on the ground, and I just assumed it was you, but it wasn’t. Oh, Bettina, you’re so clever.”

  Bettina nodded. “I wanted to make sure, in case a vampire took a look at the crystal ball. He’d think we’d all been abducted.” She smiled wryly. “That’s one of the simplest incantations, you know, the warding. And it’s one you really need to master.”

  “I know,” Maddie said dejectedly. Another thought darted into her head. “How did you avoid getting captured? Weren’t you at home when Bartholomew abducted Mama and Nana?”

  Bettina ducked her head, looking curiously embarrassed.

  “Bettina,” Maddie chided her. “Where were you when the vampires broke into the house?”

  Bettin
a looked away, her cheeks scarlet. “I was with Rick.”

  “Rick? Rick who?”

  “The police officer? Remember him? Officer Colton. That day you saw me down at the UDF.”

  “Oh, Bettina.” Maddie shook her head. “What in the world?”

  Bettina jabbed a long finger into Maddie’s sternum. “Hey, just lay off me, all right? He’s a really nice man, even if he is one hundred percent human.”

  A sly, slow smile spread across Maddie’s features.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Maddie replied with an innocent grin.

  “What?”

  “Now I’ve got something to hang over your head, big sissy.”

  “You’re a little snot.”

  “Takes one to know one.” She grabbed Bettina’s arm. “Come on, we can discuss your love life later. Let’s save our family.”

  “Good plan. But first,” Bettina said, “let’s grab some candles to take with us. You never know when we may find ourselves in a dark room.”

  “Excellent notion.”

  They ran through the house, collecting tapers and other supplies. Then Bettina scooped up Roby and plopped him onto the back of her broomstick, and Maddie put Malamar on the back of hers. Each sister draped a warm woolen cape over her shoulders. Maddie chuckled.

  “What’s funny?” Bettina asked.

  “I gotta admit, I’m kind of glad you’ve got a boyfriend.”

  “He isn’t—”

  “Your infatuation saved me from getting abducted.”

  “Listen to me—”

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done back there with the vampires if you didn’t show up when you did.”

  “Humph,” Bettina said, her cheeks scarlet. She got on her broomstick, took two hopping steps, and flew out through the broken bedroom window. Maddie followed suit.

  No matter what, she thought as she gazed at her sister’s back as they sliced through the cool night sky on their broomsticks, she felt mighty glad for the company.

  At least I’m not in this thing alone.

  ****