Covenkeepers

by Denise Gwen

  “Papa,” Maddie cried. “Do something! She can’t die! She’s my friend.”

  Papa flashed Maddie an agonized look. “Darling, I am so terribly, terribly sorry, but I didn’t know you had a friend here at the castle.”

  “Then you mean—”

  “That’s right, my dear,” Ezekiel interjected. “Once a promise is made, it cannot be broken. And your father and I made a binding promise to release one another from our respective obligations to our families.” His gaze turned cold. “But your little friend is not part of that bargain.”

  “Can’t you adopt her or something?” Maddie asked in desperation. She turned to Drakkur. “Please, Drakkur! Save my friend.”

  Drakkur flashed her with a look of cold contempt. “Get lost! I’m just as glad to be rid of you as my father is. And that little friend of yours will meet the fate I should have given you for disobeying me.”

  “Please, Drakkur.” she pleaded. “Please.”

  Victoria screamed in terror as the executioner forced her to her knees and then pushed her head down upon the chopping block.

  He bared her neck in such a manner her pale white throat gleamed in the dusky light of the cavernous hall.

  Vomit rose up in Maddie’s throat. This couldn’t be happening. This was too awful.

  Ezekiel gestured for Drakkur to bow down before him. Drakkur might not be taking a bride today—too bad, so sad—but he’d still be installed as the king of Salem Castle. At the moment that Victoria’s blood spilled from her neck, Drakkur would drink the blood and accept the control and the power over all the witches and vampires of the castle.

  “Maddie!” Victoria screamed in a wretched voice. “Maddie, help me!”

  Her cries, agonizing. Even as she bucked and kicked, the executioner strapped her arms down on either side of the block; her frail little neck remained fully exposed and ready for his axe.

  “Maddie!” Victoria screamed.

  Ezekiel laid his left hand, palm-down, on Drakkur’s head. “By the spirit of Satan, the underworld, and through my power as supreme Warlock over Salem Castle, I hereby endow thee with all that I have. You shall possess my power over Salem Castle, my exalted standing in the Great Hall of Vampires, and my position at the table in the great realm of Warlocks. I bequeath thee to rule above all witches and warlocks, and I make this promise to you with my blood vow, done with the sacrificial offering of a human virgin. And now—” He gestured for the executioner. “—you shall make the blood sacrifice.”

  “Very well, my lord.” The executioner raised his axe.

  Ezekiel bent his head down over his son, his eyes closed.

  Maddie fell to her knees and pressed her face into the red carpet, waves of sickness and revulsion washing over her.

  Oh, that I’d agreed to marry Drakkur, perhaps Ezekiel would have spared poor Victoria’s life.

  She couldn’t bear to look; she couldn’t bear to see. She simply wanted to die. And so, she did not watch, but she could not stop her ears; she could not stop her ears from hearing the swing of the axe as it brushed through the air, the grunt of the executioner, and the sickening chunk sound the axe blade made as it cut through Victoria’s slim white neck. She heard bone and gristle and the softly sinuous sound of tendons ripping free, as the sheer metal blade cleaved straight through to the fine-grain wood chopping block.

  Awash in waves of disgust, Maddie berated herself.

  I’m no good, I’m no good!

  If she’d been a better witch, she would’ve found some way to save Victoria. Poor, innocent Victoria didn’t deserve to die; Maddie should have figured out some way to save her dear friend’s life.

  A dreadful silence filled the cavernous hall.

  “Bring me the virgin’s head,” Ezekiel intoned, “and place it on the palm of my left hand.”

  “It’s hardly a virgin’s head,” a silky voice sang, “but I’m sure it’ll do.”

  Maddie lifted her face from the carpet and gazed in amazement at the scene.

  Esmeralda, her fangs bared, plopped the bloody head of the executioner onto her husband’s outstretched palm. She cackled with delight. “And how do you like your meat, dear? Light or dark?”

  ****

  “Ezekiel, dear,” Esmeralda purred, her fangs bared. “Say something.” She cracked an ironic smile. “What’s the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue?”

  “What happened?” Ezekiel thundered, staring at his coterie of attractive female vampires. The vampires huddled against their Wiccan sisters as Ezekiel thrust his wand at them in a threatening manner. “What did you do?”

  “Stop that!” Esmeralda raised her hand, a whisper of wind floated from her fingers, and in the next moment, Ezekiel’s wand flew from his hand. It shattered in two and clattered to the stone floor.

  “What the—”

  “Father,” Drakkur said in an urgent voice. “Father!”

  “Ezekiel,” Esmeralda seethed. “I’ve endured quite enough of your nonsense.” She flung both arms at him, her fingers outstretched. An electric current flashed from her fingers. Ezekiel flew backwards across the throne room, crashed into the stone wall and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  Drakkur ran to his father’s side, fighting back a sob of despair. “Father!” he cried. “You forget yourself!”

  “That witch!” Ezekiel muttered darkly. He gingerly patted the back of his head and gazed at his fingers in horror; they dripped with blood. He looked as if he could not quite believe his eyes: it was his head bleeding and not somebody else’s.

  “Father!” Drakkur cried. Hot tears crept down his porcelain cheeks, singeing the skin as they fell. He brushed them aside and struggled to help his father reach a standing position. Hanging heavily on his son’s arm, Ezekiel stared at Esmeralda with a look of deep and abiding hatred. Then his gaze shifted to the female vampires who cowered behind Esmeralda. “Which one of you duplicitous cows turned my dead wife into a vampire?”

  The female vampires whimpered. Esmeralda cocked an eyebrow. “What difference does it make, dear husband, who performed the service?”

  “I want to know,” he said.

  Esmeralda held up a warning hand to the vampires and shook her head; after a moment, a petite, blonde vampire stepped forward, her head bowed. Ezekiel gazed at her long and hard, then let out a heavy sigh.

  “Of all my devoted vampires, to find out it was you who performed this hateful office, Xandra. It’s almost more than my heart can bear.”

  Xandra bowed her head submissively. “I am so sorry, Master, but I could not bear to see the regal queen die.”

  “Traitorous little witch,” Ezekiel muttered.

  Um, no, Ezekiel. She’s a vampire.

  Esmeralda snapped her fingers. “Very well, Ezekiel. I granted you your last wish.”

  Ezekiel’s eyes widened in surprise. “My last—?”

  Esmeralda flashed him a cold, contemptuous look. “As I seem to recall, Husband, before you banished me, you didn’t even grant me my last wish.” Her lips trembled. “To say goodbye to my children before you sent me packing. No, you didn’t let me do that, did you, dear?”

  “Oh, I get it,” he said, his voice laced with acid, “you think you’re in charge now, don’t you?”

  Esmeralda thrust her hands on her hips. “Darling, I don’t think you realize it yet, but I am in charge.” She bared her fangs at him and with the flick of her wrist she sent another jolting current of electricity through his body. It ripped him out of Drakkur’s arms, flinging him like a rag doll up against the ceiling of the throne room. Ezekiel’s head made a hideous cracking sound, and then he began an equally fast decline. Drakkur looked wildly over at Esmeralda, then leaped for his wand. He pointed the wand up at his father’s body and cried, “Levitation!”

  Ezekiel, who would’ve fallen to the stone floor and crashed into bits and pieces of blood and gore, and surely died, was caught mid-air and floated down to the floor—but the damage was done. Clutching his head in agony, Ezekiel co
llapsed, face-first, onto the red carpet.

  “He’ll be suffering a fine headache today,” Esmeralda said with withering disdain.

  Drakkur bent down over his father’s broken form. An awful silence penetrated the throne room.

  For perhaps the first time in all her thirteen years, Maddie felt sorry for Drakkur. And yes, despite what Ezekiel did to her father, to her family, she felt a tiny bit sorry for Ezekiel, too.

  “Milady,” Drakkur said in a wretched voice. “My own dear mother is no more. My father shall die if I do not seek care for him now.” He lifted his head and gazed at Esmeralda with a look of raw pain. “Please, dear lady, I never did you any harm. Even as a child, on the rare occasions when my father brought me into your presence at your court in Europe, I knew to show you the proper respect. My mother taught me that.”

  “Your mother,” Esmeralda spat, “was a wh—”

  “She loved me,” Drakkur said simply. “In the same way that you loved—and continue to love—your own children, good lady.”

  Esmeralda hesitated. For the first time, she looked unsure of herself.

  Maddie and Victoria huddled together on the floor at Esmeralda’s feet, clutching one another for dear life. Papa stood to one side, watching the entire proceeding with a grave expression on his face. Bettina, shimmered back into her human form, stood to one side beside Roby and Malamar. Maddie glanced over her shoulder. Nana still appeared to be unconscious, but Mama, returned to her human form, now tended to Nana’s head wound. Poor Nana looked bad, but Mama worked her magic. Mama looked up and gazed at Esmeralda. A look of quiet understanding appeared to pass between the two women.

  Esmeralda dropped her hands from her hips and gazed at Ezekiel. “I ought in all right to kill you both. In that way, I shall preserve the succession for Hector, my eldest born son.”

  Blinking through the rivulets of blood dribbling down his face, Ezekiel gazed blearily at his wife. He looked a ghastly mess.

  “But,” Esmeralda continued, “your son here speaks good sense, and what’s more, he speaks from the heart. He loves you, my lord. That much is certain. And what’s more, he loves you in a way that I once loved you, with my whole heart.” Her eyes filled with tears, but she quickly regained her composure. “You hurt me, you wounded me, you banished me, and you were only too happy to kill me. You are greedy and manipulative, Ezekiel, and you’ve broken my heart for the last time.”

  She snapped her fingers and two groomsmen appeared at her side. “Prepare the carriage,” she ordered. “My husband is too ill to fly a broom.” She turned to Drakkur. “First light shall arrive within the hour. Even though you are a Day-Walker, your powers are vastly diminished during daylight. As it stands, then, there isn’t time to fly to Europe this evening, but you can travel west, stopping the night in San Francisco. There, you will employ the best surgeons to repair my husband’s head.” Her eyes hardened. “Too bad there’s no hope for his heart.”

  “My ladyship—” Drakkur began.

  She gestured for him to remain silent. “But know this, Drakkur. I expect to receive word that you are returned to your ancestral home in Transylvania before the fortnight is up.”

  “Yes, your grace,” Drakkur said, in a voice of wonder.

  “I keep the vampires who saved me, and any others who wish to remain here in Salem and be loyal to my court,” Esmeralda continued, as if ticking off a list of laundry items, “as I’m sure they’d sustain accidental terminations if they were to stay in my husband’s care.” She flashed a dry smile at Ezekiel, but he looked too weak to respond. In the few moments that’d passed, his condition deteriorated; his saturnine expression was replaced by a deathly pallor.

  Esmeralda addressed the assembled vampires hovering near Drakkur. “For those of you who still remain loyal to this clown of a husband of mine, you may accompany him on his journey.”

  The vampires hissed.

  “So go,” she said, with a dismissive gesture. “Go, go, go. Be gone. There’s more than enough room in the carriage.”

  The groomsmen went to Drakkur’s side as attendants hurried forward with a litter. They gently placed Ezekiel’s body onto it, and he and Drakkur, together with their loyal vampires—including Lord Bartholomew—were escorted from the throne room.

  “Fare thee well, my husband,” Esmeralda said with cold asperity. “And don’t go getting delusions of grandeur ever again.”

  On that affectionate final note, Esmeralda watched as the entire retinue silently filed out of the room.

  Not until the last member of Ezekiel’s entourage left the room did Esmeralda betray the deep hurt she so evidently felt. Bright tears sprang to her eyes, but she quickly recollected herself. “Enough of that,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  Gazing out at the brightening streaks of dawn creasing the morning sky, she snapped her fingers again. “It appears,” she said dryly, “that I am reborn, and in more ways than one. I am now a vampire, and as a vampire, I needs must find a dark place to sleep.” She chuckled to herself. “How does that poem go? ‘And I have much to do before I sleep’?”

  Her gaze fell upon Maddie and Victoria, huddled together before her. “And now,” she said, hands on hips. “What do we do with you?”

  “Your Majesty,” Maddie said in a quavering voice. “My friend here, Victoria, got bitten by a vampire.”

  A look of concern flashed across the queen’s features. “Dear me. When?”

  “Earlier this evening, your majesty.”

  Victoria gazed, frightened, out through the casement window. “I suppose that explains why I feel so suddenly faint.”

  “You do look pale, child.” Esmeralda drew near and stroked Victoria’s chin.

  Xandra, the pretty blonde vampire, stepped forward. “Your Majesty? It would give me the greatest pleasure to reverse the bite.”

  Esmeralda looked questioningly at Papa. “What think you, Daniel?”

  “I think that would be best,” Papa said. “And quickly, before the sun rises.”

  “Very well,” Esmeralda said.

  The pretty blonde vampire approached Victoria and bared her fangs.

  As those gleaming white teeth pierced the same point where Lord Bartholomew bit Victoria earlier that evening, Maddie felt a moment’s apprehension. Yes, Xandra saved Esmeralda’s life, but turning someone into a vampire was a lot easier than reversing the process. Would Xandra know when to stop? Or would her vampire thirst take over as she lost control over herself, draining Victoria dry?

  Vampires are our friends. Vampires are our friends. Well, some vampires are our friends. It just depends on the vampire.

  “Unnnngh!” Victoria groaned, as Xandra exerted her power, drawing the poisoned blood from Victoria’s body.

  Maddie clutched her friend’s hand. She started at the sensation of a hand on her shoulder. Papa. “All will be well,” he assured her, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

  Victoria’s eyes turned blood red, a sure sign she was transforming into a vampire.

  “Save her!” Maddie cried.

  Xandra closed her eyes, concentrating.

  “Save her!” Maddie repeated.

  Please, oh please, oh please, save her!

  15

  “Whew,” Papa said with a shaky laugh. “What a night.”

  Mama smiled grimly. “Imagine how I felt, less than a week ago, making this very same journey, but with you back at the castle, trapped in a carbonite coffin.” Her smile faded as tears sprang up into her eyes. “I didn’t laugh then, let me tell you.”

  “No, Papa,” Maddie assured him, “that’s very true. Mama so did not laugh.”

  “That I can believe,” Papa said, gazing sadly at his wife’s tears. He reached over, tracing his fingers along her chin. “Claudia, don’t fret, my sweet. All is well.”

  “A strange ending to a bizarre beginning, that’s all I can say,” Maddie reflected.

  “Yes, indeed,” Malamar agreed.

  On an evening similar to this one, Maddi
e had flown through the starry night to her new home in a small village in Ohio, taking up residence in an abandoned nursing home on a lonely, tree-lined hill. And now, three days later, here she found herself again, flying through the night to return to her haunted home. Only this time, Papa accompanied them. A huge difference, and a profound one.

  And, instead of fleeing for their lives, they were simply skimming alongside the morning-dawn sky, hoping to return to the house before any humans sighted them. No worries about vampires. Not this time, thank goodness.

  And Victoria looked so happy and well. Her spirits were certainly far lighter than earlier that evening. She perched behind Bettina on her broomstick, as Bettina was stronger than Maddie, and Roby sat behind Victoria. Malamar perched on the back of Maddie’s broomstick.

  And it appeared that Nana really would recover, but she’d need a long convalescence. She’d been patched up by the cleverest of Esmeralda’s surgeons, and gently placed on a litter borne along between Papa and Mama on their respective broomsticks.

  And Danube and Zippy were safely ensconced at home—they’d hidden during the fracas—and were waiting patiently for the family to return to them. Before the vampires had descended on the house and kidnapped Mama and Nana, the familiars had sensed the vampires’ presence; in an abundance of caution, Nana sent both Danube and Zippy to the cellar to wait. This did not go over very well; the familiars felt they needed to remain by their mistresses’ sides, but they were grateful to learn that their mistresses were alive and returning to them.

  They would all be reunited and form a tight-knit family unit again.

  Papa behaved as if he were on no more serious an errand than returning home from a picnic on the beach. He laughed and told jokes and made the girls laugh until their hands trembled and they were in serious danger of falling off their broomsticks. But not Mama. Mama looked as grim as death.

  Mama ducked her head, fighting back the tears. “It’s all very well and good that we’ve escaped with our lives this time, but what of the future?” She glared at Papa, as if this entire debacle were somehow his doing. “What if that idiot Ezekiel recovers and decides he’d like to stage a comeback with that malevolent son of his? What then? I hate to say this, and I know it’s wrong, but Esmeralda ought to have set aside her reservations and done the proper Wiccan thing.”