by Brea Viragh
There was something about her—beyond being a witch. He crossed to her and cupped her chin in his palm as if he could breathe her into him. When his lips dropped on her forehead, he felt it sear through him like lightning. He couldn’t resist her. Couldn’t if he tried. An unbidden thought entered his head: How would he tell his parents he’d fallen in love with a witch?
Tenderness crept into her chest and took up residence. When Elon cradled her close, draping the blanket around them both like a warm cocoon, she let her head rest on his shoulder and felt—for a brief moment—safe.
Finally.
“Hey.” Elon ran his hands along her arms to dispel the chill bumps there. “Are you still cold?”
She ducked her head and used her hair to hide her expression. “I’m fine.”
Holy hell, what am I doing? she thought. Yeah, okay, she’d never experienced desire like she felt for Elon, the kind rising from the depths like a shark to swallow her whole. What was she thinking?
Had coming here been a mistake?
Why not go back to old faithful? Israel was ready and willing. No emotion, no commitment. Easy. Instead, she stood in front of Elon with the awkwardness of the first time, words drying in her mouth and heat still pooling between her legs.
The tenderness of the situation took her by surprise, as did the insatiable thirst to have him a second time. To have everything again, not just the sex but the breathless touches, the sighs in the dark.
All of it.
“If this is a one-time deal, please tell me now.” His statement came on a whisper. He didn’t want to hear the answer. Still, he had to ask.
“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to hurt him. The fierce need to protect rose up inside of her.
Elon gathered her to him and maneuvered her out of the kitchen. “Come on. We’ll sit, have a little bite to eat. I probably have leftover chicken tikka in the fridge.”
They walked into the living room. A large couch in odd shades of burgundy and tan plaid dominated the space. The television played softly in the background, men in vibrant colors chasing after a bright orange ball.
Aisanna took it in. She allowed Elon to sit and pull her down on his lap. His lips brushed at her neck and before she knew it she had leaned into the contact. He continued his exploration of her skin, a trace of emotion in the warmth of his caresses. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She hated herself in that moment, putting him at risk for her own selfish reasons. It felt good, deliciously good. Her every nerve was alive and on point, aching for more when she knew it to be a deplorable idea.
“I really should go. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” she murmured.
“You don’t have to leave. Stay with me for a while. I promised to feed you, didn’t I? Stay.”
She hesitated to tell him it was a mistake. Did she regret it?
No, not yet.
Leaning away, she prepared to tell him she had places to be and people to see. Then his hand found hers, and somewhere in the depths of her mind, a bell clanged for round two.
**
Aisanna snuck out of Elon’s bed before sunrise.
The moon rode high in the sky when she extricated herself from his embrace, gingerly lifting his arm and slipping beneath it. Leaving him was harder than she was ready to admit. His embrace was so comforting and familiar.
She gathered the rest of her borrowed clothing and kept her footfalls soft as she wound down the hallway. The front door opened with a sigh, letting in a gust of frigid air, and she let herself out. It swung shut behind her with a thud of finality. The end of…something.
She shivered and rubbed at her arms. Never before had she been in the habit of sneaking out of someone’s house with guilt heavy in her heart. Those kinds of things were reserved for teenagers. The boy who knew he had overstayed his welcome. The college girl who remembered her early final and still hadn’t studied.
Certainly not suitable behavior for a respectable thirty-year-old woman. Aisanna wanted to kick herself.
Lights were on in the restaurant next door, the food already frying in preparation for the day. With her appetite sated, she no longer felt hunger.
“Get your head on straight,” she admonished. “There are more important issues to think about here, like stopping Darkness from taking over.”
Speaking it aloud, in the stilled hush of night, had her hurrying along outside with borrowed cash in hand and checking over her shoulder. She’d call a cab from the restaurant, get home hopefully before frostbite threatened her feet, still clad in Elon’s soft cotton booties. Better than being barefoot.
Dangerous things hid in the night. She knew now, better than anyone else. Had experienced firsthand the horrible things awaiting her if Darkness caught the advantage.
Why had she gone so far with Elon? It didn’t make sense. Something had moved in her, an emotion scarily close to desire but keener, sharper. A horse of a different color.
She ached for him. Her breasts tightened at the thought of their time together. Each step was a restless reminder that she dared not repeat the moment. No, no, no, went the beat of her heart.
The restaurant staff was friendly and accommodating, and soon she was on her way home. Remorse warred with contentment as she remembered the look on his face, the look when he finally realized that it was no dream. The way his body felt when it thrust into hers. Happiness rose up and she forced it down. It was a blunder, a one-time thing. It was too dangerous to continue.
For Elon, she clarified. He was already halfway in love with her. What would happen to him if Darkness decided to exploit her weaknesses? She tried to harden her heart.
**
She walked through the front door and was immediately accosted.
“Where the hell have you been?” Karsia demanded. “I’ve sent message after message but I couldn’t find your energy signature. We’ve all been going out of our minds!”
“What, have you been up waiting for me this whole time?” Aisanna shuffled down the marble foyer and contemplated her sister and the stairs for a moment. Her thighs ached. “It’s gotta be five in the morning. What are you doing up? Go to bed.”
Karsia was not deterred. She rose from the last step, hands on her hips. “Do you have any idea how many times we’ve tried calling you? Your phone just rings! And our magic couldn’t find you. You can’t just run off. Not now. Not when—”
“I’m sorry.” Aisanna didn’t have the energy to make it upstairs. Instead, she crossed through to the living room and sank down into a chair, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.
She was weak and tired. Feeling like she’d been drugged and desperate to rest. To sleep and wake up when this was all over. It was embarrassing, she thought, watching Karsia pace around the room before stopping by the fireplace with her arms crossed over her chest.
Was it obvious what Aisanna had been doing? “I know I was gone for a long time,” she began. “You wouldn’t believe what’s been going on.”
“Everyone else assumed you left with Elon, but I know you, you fucker!” Karsia pointed her index finger at her sister’s face. “Something happened. You’ve been gone for over twenty-four hours.”
“Yeah, I love you too.” Aisanna draped her arm over her eyes and tried to relax. It was good to be home. “I’m not telling you about my extracurricular activities. Sorry. You’ll have to use your imagination.”
“Then just tell me why you left. It must have been something terrible.” Karsia crossed the room and flung herself down in Aisanna’s lap. “I wasn’t sure you would come home. I was worried.”
Aisanna ground her teeth and shifted. “We need to call Astix once the sun rises.” Then she sighed and let her arms come around her younger sister. “I’m happy to see you. We have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it in.” An ache began low, a hollow pit in her stomach. “She’s getting stronger.”
Karsia refused to loosen her grip. “And so are we. Did she have something to do with your extracurricular a
ctivities?”
“No, and those are off the table. Please call Astix. Do it without any more questions and I’ll give you candy.” That bribe had always worked on her little sister in the past. Aisanna hoped it still did.
Two hours later, the three sisters sat in the living room, gathered around a small fire lit the old-fashioned way, while their parents went out for an early breakfast. Logs cheerfully blazed and crackled within the marble fireplace to fill the room with warmth and light, an antique grate protecting the room from stray sparks. It helped to dispel the gloom, slightly, of a weak morning sun peeking through the parted curtains.
Astix sat on an ottoman near the door. She kept her worn boots on and her coat on her lap. “No more stalling and no trying to blow smoke up my ass. You’re a target, Aisanna, and as much as you want to keep this to yourself—to handle it yourself—you know I’m not leaving here without you telling me everything. Everything.”
“I understand.” Aisanna took a deep breath and began. “I was taken the night before last. Right after Elon came in and found out about us.”
Karsia grinned and scooted closer until their legs touched. “Taken by a handsome man? We should all be so lucky.”
“Shut up, K. This is serious. She took me.”
“Excuse me?” Astix asked.
“Darkness took my body out for a joy ride like she was testing a damn car off the lot. I woke up half-naked in a dumpster.” The sensory memory still lingered and she once more felt the assault of hot decomposing trash. She heard the honking, the nasty whispers. The icy fingers of malevolence skittering across her chest toward her heart. Suddenly, her night with Elon felt years away.
“She came for me again this afternoon, and poor Elon found me on the street screaming. I was there, watching from inside, but powerless to stop her. I don’t remember the first night, but the second time,” Aisanna swallowed, “the second time I knew what was happening, realized what I was doing. And I…kind of liked it. Almost wanted to do whatever it was when she finally let me go.”
“She’s never come after us before. Not physically, anyway. She sent her minion to do her dirty work last time. If she’s this strong and we still have over a month until the eclipse…” Astix let her voice trail off, her mind racing.
“It means we’re on different playing fields and we need to catch up. I don’t know how she got to me the way she did. I remember fragments sometimes. I remember a man, but I don’t know who he was or why he was there,” Aisanna said. “Oh, and I’m not sure I told you about this.” She tugged her shirt down to show Astix the script that had returned to her skin once she walked through the front doors of the house.
Astix stared at the flowing lines. Swallowed. Forced her gaze back up to her sister’s face. “You have some explaining to do,” she demanded. “These…these aren’t there all the time?”
Aisanna shook her head. “Apparently not. I didn’t give it a thought while I was…um…never mind. But now they’re back. Is it always going to be like this? I thought we were done.” She scratched her skin. Grateful she’d had the opportunity to be comfortably naked around Elon. “Dammit.”
“Maybe they’re a message,” Karsia supplied.
“Whatever it is, it’s annoying and inconvenient. Anyway…” Aisanna dove into the retelling, explaining what she recalled and emphasizing the sizeable void in her memory. Staring around at their stunned faces, alike in shape and emotion, she worried for them. Feared what would happen if she didn’t fix this problem. If her head was on the chopping block, then she couldn’t count on anyone else to free her. It was time to man up.
Karsia wrapped her arms around her torso and hunched in on herself. “I know you said we’re on different playing fields.” She addressed Astix. “Which means we need to get to her level. And fast. How do we do it?”
“I just don’t know. She wants one of us,” Aisanna continued. “Me, this time. She took me out for a test drive and liked the way my engine purred.”
Astix rose, walking to their father’s liquor cabinet. She grabbed the nearest bottle and popped the top, taking a swig. “Where’s the amulet I gave you? Maybe if you’d been wearing it, then she wouldn’t have been able to get a hold on you.”
Aisanna turned away, a flush beginning at her collar and rising to her neck. “I did have it with me. But it was in my pocket.” She’d managed to get it out before Israel disposed of her clothing, and hadn’t thought about it since. Stupid.
“So you’re saying you weren’t wearing the amulet,” Astix clarified.
“Yeah. I forgot. Okay?”
Glass clinked when Astix replaced the bottle with trembling hands. “Wear it against your skin. I mean it.”
“An amulet might slow her down, but it’s probably not enough to stop her. We need more. Does anyone have any ideas?” Karsia asked.
Astix chewed on her thumbnail, then removed her thumb from her mouth and gestured. “I’ve been trying to do some research on my own. Needless to say, the clues we’ve been given are kind of vague, and the oldest books I have date back to the sixteenth century. Way after magic entered our world for the first time. I need to go back farther and I can’t do it without a massive spell. I’ve never been good enough at casting. No practice.”
“What are you hoping to find?”
“A way to detect the Harbinger witch,” Astix stated definitively. “I think finding him or her will be our best bet to stopping whatever is going to happen.”
Aisanna shook her head. “We’re wasting our time. The Harbinger will come when the time is right.” If she hasn’t already. Here’s looking at you, sis. “We need to concentrate our efforts on keeping Darkness at bay until then.”
“Are you crazy? We don’t have the juice to take her on. No,” Astix interrupted before Karsia could say anything. “No matter how many times we say it, it’s not true. We’re blips on her radar. We’re talking about a person—at least, she was once—who has been sandwiched between two planes of existence for thousands of years, give or take. We might be witches from a long lineage, but that’s it! Don’t you get it? If we can’t stop her, then it only makes sense to find the one person who can.”
“The one person who is destined to stop her,” Karsia said, and added on a breath: “The Harbinger.”
Aisanna balled her hands into fists. “I hate the idea of sitting around waiting for someone else to swoop in and save the day.”
“Actually, I might have an idea.” Karsia paused, nibbling the inside of her cheek.
“Are you kidding?”
“I’ve been working on the script, the symbols branded on your chest and arm.”
Aisanna’s arms flew into the air. “I feel like an asshole. Has everyone been doing research but me?”
Astix shrugged. “You were never one for the books. We have our strengths and weaknesses. Accept yours and move on.”
“Anyway, there aren’t a lot of old texts available about Cyrillic, but I managed to find a few websites that looked promising.” Karsia took her cell phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, flipping through her screens until she found the right one. “There’s this academic website. Carthage College in Wisconsin.”
Astix crossed and uncrossed her legs and tried to get settled. “A college?”
“There’s a professor of medieval culture and mythology,” Karsia said as she scrolled down to find the name. “He seems to have some interesting theories linking Cyrillic script with lore from the Dark Ages.”
Aisanna was skeptical. “It seems a bit of a stretch. Isn’t Cyrillic script Eurasian? I know that much. What makes you think this dude’s theories pertain to this situation?”
“This professor has done a lot of research on medieval languages. I could only make out a few words of your brand before I got pulled into some of his other articles. I think it’s related somehow.”
Instead of telling Karsia she was way off base, Astix hesitated. Her brows drew together. “Go on.”
“I guess he was first o
n site for some kind of archeological dig. There was a stone tablet uncovered, written in multiple languages, Cyrillic among them. He translated it, and apparently the tablet documented a war. Pure chaos coming into the High Middle Ages. Dark shit,” she clarified. “The Byzantine Empire under the Macedonian dynasty was engaged in a long war with the First Bulgarian Empire. By all accounts, it was a time of unrestrained power. Not just battles but intrigue. Torture. Murder.” She paused for effect. “Sound familiar?”
“The veil,” Aisanna put in.
“Maybe. Maybe not. His translation goes into detail about this apocalyptic event that seemed to put an end to the chaos. He seems to be some kind of genius. Philology,” she burst out, snapping her fingers. “That’s what it was. Philology is the study of written and oral historical languages.”
“I don’t see how this is going to help us.” Aisanna was intrigued by the idea though she didn’t see its merit. Beyond that, she wanted to be the one to find the answers. She needed to be, for her own sanity. “Or how to banish this bitch. Her being sadistic and ancient only means we need to work faster.”
“Look, I found some of the script and this man’s name came up. Which speaks volumes, if you ask me,” Karsia said, frustrated. “Do you want to hear about it or not?”
Astix and Aisanna looked at each other, then back to Karsia. “Keep talking.”
“Okay, let me see if I can put this in a way you’ll understand.” Karsia set down her phone and used her hands to make a picture for them, as if putting the pieces together in midair. “There’s this medieval leader and his wife. They tried to find a way to stem the tide of raw energy. To find a way to stop what they thought was causing chaos among their people. Got it? They mysteriously disappeared, and people could only speculate what happened. They said the man and the woman became gods. Good and evil, light and dark, perpetual balance. Always at war with each other. Then the Middle Ages came to an end and the tale was forgotten.”
Her soft voice wove a melody as she told her story. In Karsia’s mind, she saw everything, the raw magic, the chaos, the people standing in the presence of something with the power to change fate.