by Tara Brown
I watched the six balls of light. “What are you?”
We are the remaining magic. Each of Lillith’s children has magic in their soul as do their offspring. We are witches, like Lillith. It’s why Father fears us. When one of Lillith’s children is killed, the magic remains.
“How long have you been dead?” The question frightened me but I had to know. How long had they waited for me to be born, and was I next on the chopping block?
I am the eldest. I am over one thousand years old.
I am the youngest and only forty-seven years old.
I blinked at their answers. None of it was fathomable, but then nothing about my week had been. “Where’s our brother then?”
He’s with our father.
I frowned. “Our evil, fallen-angel father? So is he bad?”
The balls of light floated toward me and took shape, each looking more and more similar to me. No. We have been with him since his infancy. He is not evil or anything like our father.
I frowned at the ghost. “Why didn’t you come to me before this? Why have you waited until now?”
We couldn’t find you. We feared you were lost or held captive somewhere. If you had died, you would have joined us as a ghost, but you never did. We never gave up hope that you were still alive. We feared you were held by magic so your soul could not be free as ours are.
“How did you die?” I finally asked the question picking at me.
Our father had us murdered at birth to stop us from ever helping Mother.
“How have you not aged?”
When we die, we instantly become the age of magic, eighteen. Our spirits become the eternal age to accept the magic we are given.
Nothing surprised me anymore, but that did make me sick. It felt icky to be born of a man so evil as to have my siblings, his own kids, murdered. And Lydia wanted me to meet him?
“This is so crazy. I’m in the haunted house talking to ghosts.” I lay back down on the bed. “I just don’t understand how you never knew where I was.”
“You had a guard around your house. The witch who your father forced to kill your sisters put you somewhere safe. She died to save you.” Annabelle appeared out of nowhere.
“The witch died making my guard?”
“’Tis a permanent stain on the Earth. It takes a soul to make it.”
“Annabelle, why are you a maid here?”
“I want to. I got nothing better to do, and Miss Lydia kept me alive and safe for a long time. I don’t sleep and I don’t eat and I never need to rest or be quiet. Eternity is a long time to be bored.”
“Why don’t you go to Heaven?”
She laughed. “Oh, I will. When Miss Lydia is ready to move on, we’ll move on together. We was born together and we’ll die together.”
“What’s the guard for?”
Annabelle’s face grew serious. “All the dark evil magic hunts us. It wants to corrupt us.”
“Are we that weak?”
Annabelle shook her head. “No, but a witch has gotta rest, and ain’t no witch restin’ when them dark thangs is after ya. The shadows creep along trying to tie themselves to you. They the dark stain your momma put on this Earth. Her anger.”
“I saw them. The shadows that moved.”
The maid held a ghostly finger up at me. “You stay away from them shadows. They be coming for you. If the darkness wins, everything good on the Earth is gonna die. All the hate, and pain, and suffering your momma cast on man is in those shadows. It be the original dark magic. Full of hate and pain.”
“Am I bad?”
“Up to you.” Annabelle shrugged. “The prophecy says you gonna choose the light and save man, but ‘tis only a prophecy. ‘Tis possible you could choose the wrong side and your brother could save man.”
The balls of light hovered in the corner again. “I hope that doesn’t happen.”
We all do, Ophelia.
Annabelle and the creepy sisters all nodded, floating and being eerie in general.
“I swear, I’m going to wake up and this will all be a dream,” I muttered as I closed my eyes, letting them watch me sleep.
Chapter 9
The Roses of Castle Freak
Sam
Lucas made a wolf snicker sound as they stared out at the horde.
I rolled my eyes. “Come on. We’ve got to help Giselle. This is nuts. You should change first though. No one wants you eating any of her loyal subjects.”
I strolled out into the crowd to Giselle and tried not to notice the blood on my pants or the way the vampires stared at me. I’d pushed my sirens’ call as hard as I ever had. It still lingered in the air.
Giselle shook her head in what appeared to be disbelief.
I knelt beside her and whispered, “We need to take you to Marcus’ castle. You’ll be safest there.”
“I guess I always wanted to live in a castle,” Giselle spoke weakly, defeated or damaged by the life she had taken.
Aimee pressed her lips together, her eyes lighting up with a lot of bad things, the kind of bad things that usually ended with her killing stuff. I could see the anger welling inside her. Aimee was already unstable and a blow like Giselle being forced into anything could trigger Aimee’s rage.
I put a hand on them both and flashed quickly.
When we arrived in front of the massive castle, I smiled grimly. “Home sweet home.”
“Home?” Giselle gulped.
I knew it was too much to take but I tried to be cheery. “I hear it’s in a really good location.”
Giselle’s dark eyes filled with tears, making her face devastatingly beautiful. “Will you stay with me?”
I nodded as did Aimee.
An English accent broke the silence, “Mistress, my name is Hamish. Welcome to your new home.”
I spun to see an odd-looking older man standing at the huge entrance. I’d never seen him before. “Hamish? You weren’t here when Marcus lived here.”
Hamish shook his head. “I stayed at the English castle until Master Henry was permitted to leave.”
Aimee put a hand out to him. “I’m Aimee.”
He cringed as he took her hand. Aimee pulled him close to her and whispered something. The man’s eyes grew as he drew back. “Madam, I would never. I serve the mistress of the house. My bloodline has always served the house of Dracula loyally. She is the mistress; her blood is his blood.” He was genuinely offended.
I scowled disapprovingly at Aimee who mumbled, “He must be like the house elves in Harry Potter. No one give him any clothing or socks.”
The older man gasped, horrified, but stepped to the side to make way for us to enter.
I honestly never wanted to come back to this rotten place, and I felt a wave of nausea even seeing it again. It had never appealed to me, and remembering Hanna here made my skin crawl. Giselle gripped my bicep tightly as we passed the threshold. Maybe she felt the same way.
“It’s creepy. It’s too big. Hamish, is there a smaller house we could maybe hang at?”
“Smaller?” Hamish glanced at Giselle as if she had three heads. “But, mistress, does the manor truly displease you? You haven’t even seen it yet. We have five others. The one in Romania is quite pleasant in the summer. Not too hot and there is a nice lake out back.”
“Five? All like this?”
“Oh no.” He laughed. “No, no, much larger. This is the smallest.”
“Five more?” Giselle’s eyes widened, full of fear. Her lips trembled slightly.
I leaned in and whispered, “You have this, Giselle. You defeated that other vampire. We won’t leave you here alone. Me and Aimes will move in with you, okay?”
She pressed her skin against my face. “I like the house, Hamish.” She forced it.
“Would you care for a snack perhaps?”
My eyes shot up at Hamish who pointed down the hall.
“Sure,” Giselle replied. “I am hungry.”
Aimee gave me a menacing stare but spoke to Hamish, “What kind of snack?�
��
Hamish seemed confused. “Well, she only really eats one thing. Obviously, a bloody one.”
“Where does she get her snacks from?” Aimee swallowed hard.
Giselle put a perfectly manicured hand up. “Hamish, I like my blood by the bag.”
Hamish choked. “What?”
“Do you keep people here?” Aimee twitched.
Hamish reddened slightly, “We keep all blood types on tap. It’s how master preferred it in all his homes.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Where do you keep them?”
Giselle arched a brow. “On tap?”
Aimee shook her head. “Nothing. I will take care of it. Hamish and I will go together to get you a snack.”
I stepped away from Giselle and grabbed Aimee’s hand quickly. “Maybe I should go with Hamish to get the snacks, Aimes.” Relief was evident on the poor old man’s face.
Aimee looked wickedly evil as she spoke through pressed lips like a ventriloquist. “Fine.”
I took the older man’s arm and rushed away quickly.
“By the gods, what is she?”
I smirked. “Death, Hamish. She is death.”
When we got to the dungeon, I realized Marcus hadn’t mistreated his sources. They were all living in beautiful accommodations, much more like an inn than a dungeon, where they could come and go as they pleased and most likely enjoyed feeding vampires.
While I didn’t like it, I couldn’t fault it. It wasn’t like a blood club or a harem or brothel.
“Hamish, where is she? You said she would feed from us.” One of the girls pouted.
“The new mistress prefers it in a cup. I’m sorry.” Hamish used an IV to grab a cup of blood from another girl.
“That sucks. I thought we’d get to feed. If the arrangement changes, let us know. We’re leaving.”
“As you are permitted to do. Should she change her mind, we will be in contact.” He lifted the cup. “Thank you.” He turned, wincing at me. “I assume you were imagining all sorts of filth, but Marcus maintained a very healthy feeding regime. He didn’t eat often and when he did, he liked clean blood from healthy humans.”
The way he said “humans” made me think he might not be one.
“Creepy.” I turned and followed him out.
“She has to read the book. Once we are upstairs, you must insist she understands her role as queen,” Hamish spoke softly.
“There’s a book?”
“Of course. Master Marcus wrote it in his second age as a vampire. It’s called The Book of Vampires.”
“Of course he did.” I scoffed. “Okay. I’ll make sure she reads it.”
When we were back upstairs, Giselle ate and Aimee and I spent the night pouring over the old texts Hamish brought us. The Book of Vampires was much more informative and unbiased then I expected. Marcus hadn’t poured any of his narcissism into it. In fact, reading it made me a tiny bit sad for him. His inability to feel had been a struggle.
My eyes burned from reading the newer texts, but I knew it wouldn’t get done if one of us didn’t do it. Giselle napped most of the night while we continued the research.
When we had finished the first book, Hamish gave us an old ring, one I’d seen on Marcus many times.
When the sun started to rise, I woke Giselle and gave her the old ring, explaining its powers and how we needed to test it.
Aimee paced back and forth as the sun came in the window. “I think this is a mistake. She’s going to burn to death.”
“No.” I rubbed my eyes and yawned, pointing at the dusty old book. “No, it says right here. She just has to wear that disgusting old ring of his and she can walk in the sun. Marcus was stronger than her and he walked in the sun without the ring all the time, but he couldn’t fight without it. The ring gave him his normal strength in the sun. With the ring, it had no effect on him at all. She’s weaker than he was, she’ll need the ring.”
Giselle sat in the window, just awake enough for us to explain the point of the old ring, the one that would replace her Roses Academy ring.
“It feels old and gross. I hate this ring. Look how fat it makes my finger look.”
“I don’t care.” I closed the book with a snap. “You need the ring. Being the sun walker makes you different than the others—more royal. It’s a sign they need in order to see you as queen. And if they attack for whatever reason, the ring will make you stronger in the sun.”
Aimee never spoke.
“Aimee, I just want to go back to sleep. Can we try tomorrow?”
“What?” Aimee spun, seeming disconcerted. “Uhm sure—whatever you want.”
Giselle left the window and waved backward. “I’m going to bed. Jeeves, come tuck me in.”
I covered my eyes. “Hamish. It’s Hamish.”
Giselle’s voice echoed throughout the halls, “Why are you so old? Why don’t I have young hot guys as my slaves?”
“Well, mistress, I am your butler, not your slave,” Hamish replied.
“Whatever. I need like, warm blood before I go to sleep, and don’t microwave it.”
Aimee barely cracked a smile but I laughed loudly. She glanced over, still visibly troubled. “What do you make of that witch?”
“Ophelia? She’s cool. I don’t know what the hell they want with her.” I yawned again. “She’s crazy powerful for just awakening the witchy shit inside her now.”
“What do you mean?” Aimee’s troubled stare didn’t change.
“Well, when we were at her house in Wolfville she was in the living room, dancing with that guy she made love her. And then bam, they’re gone. Lorri starts freaking out, telling me I need to find them. But I don’t know where the hell they are. Luckily, Luke was with us, he sniffed her out. She’d gone and made it prom night. Casting a spell over the whole town.”
“What?”
“She legit went from dancing in her living room to the entire high school being in their prom dresses, dancing, with even a DJ. There were decorations. Lydia said it was glamour but it was something else. Something stronger. The girl’s a beast.”
“That’s crazy.” Aimee narrowed her gaze. “And they cleaned it up, made everyone better?”
“Yeah. Lydia came and poofed it all back to normal. I bet it took a ton of magic.”
“How did you find her?”
“Jon. Aleks’ dad. Luke and me were hunting him. We stopped in to see Luke’s family, to tell them about Ben and see if they knew anything about Jon. Sometimes they smell rogue wolves in their lands. And they had. They had his scent. We followed him to town. He’d been there earlier and gone for her, Ophelia. By the time we got there he’d sensed us and vanished. I think he did something to her sister. I suspect he thought she was a witch too and lured her outside.”
“Why'd Jon go there? Seems too weird to be random.” Aimee thought exactly the way I did.
“Apparently, he has a thing for witches.”
“And he got away?” Her face always showed some degree of devastation whenever we spoke of Aleks in any way.
“Yeah. The whole thing seemed like a trap to me. There was a Dark One pretending to be the sheriff. And the house has guards like I’ve never seen before. Someone snatched the sister, Ophelia’s sister. She got taken. It was weird.”
“Her sister as well as mine?” Aimee flinched.
“Yup. Her sister and yours. Both gone.” I felt bad bringing it up but it was one of the facts of the case. “But I think her sister got taken by Jon. I haven’t told Ophelia. I don't have the heart. She loves her sister so much and all this information is hitting her all at once. She’s going to blow at some point and the rest of us are going to die from it.”
“Die? How powerful do you think this witch is?” Aimee asked, obviously thinking about something else.
“Lorri said she’s stronger than Annabelle.”
“Ever hear the stories of Annabelle as a girl?” Aimee’s eyes got wide.
“No.”
“If she’s stronger, t
hat’s scary.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. We had both seen Annabelle go poltergeist. Her magic was terrible and amazing.
“Shit.” Aimee slumped into a chair. “I hope Jon”—she shuddered as she said his name—“didn't take her sister. That's not a fate anyone deserves.”
I’d forgotten about Aimee’s mom. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she answered but her eyes were pained. “How’s Hanna?” She changed the subject with a gulp.
“I don't know. I messaged her a million times while she was with you guys. She never responded until I was about to lose it and come look for her.”
“Yeah, we had a pretty tight radio silence,” Aimee tried to defend her. That was a first. It made me nervous.
“When she finally did get ahold of me, she told me she was going to Greece to see the other sirens,” I snarled. I hated the sirens.
“She loves you, Sam. It’ll be fine.” Her eyes darted to mine and I realized the pain in them was about love.
“We’ll see.” I tucked her sadness in my back pocket for a conversation later and pointed at the doorway. “I’m gonna go find a bed and sleep.”
“Sounds good. Me too.”
“Night.” I waved and stalked off, worried about her and Hanna and Ophelia and Giselle.
Things were unraveling faster than we could catch them.
Chapter 10
Sucker for a siren
Sam
I tossed and turned for as long as I could before I ended up outside staring at the night’s sky.
The moonlit night was peaceful and cool on the silent castle grounds. I couldn’t believe the size of the moon. I could still feel the pull of the ocean as I stood under it. My siren appeal was always stronger under the full moon.
I hated being a siren.
I hated the sirens who lived on the island in Greece. With no actual skills beyond their sex magic, they stayed where they were their strongest.
My mother had been one, living in Greece, stealing from unsuspecting men. But then she met an angel and gave him her heart. After that, the other sirens had shunned her. I’d grown up with a group of Wiccans, men and women who allowed my mother to be part of their commune. She had always told everyone my father was dead. Not that I cared. I knew what sirens were like. I knew how they lived. It was disgusting. I could have been anyone’s son.