Marked Descendant (Descendants Book 2)

by L. D. Goffigan

  A rush of relief and joy swept over her; she felt guilty for assuming Kat would be anything but happy for her. Naomi had been isolated for most of her life when she thought her locked magic was a troubled psyche; there was a time not too long ago when she thought she’d be alone forever. Now she’d found her soulmate, who came in the form of a devastatingly gorgeous four-hundred-year-old vampire.

  “I am happy,” Naomi said, beaming. “Very.”

  “Wait . . . why are you getting married so soon?” Kat asked, her tone sharpening. Naomi expelled a sigh. Maybe her original assumption hadn’t been wrong after all. “I thought you were searching for another Stone. Is there some sort of emergency? Are you pregnant?”

  “Kat. I am not pregnant. What is this—the Fifties? We’re not old fashioned humans. Vampire and a witch, remember? Alaric just thinks we shouldn’t put our life on hold. And I agree.”

  She decided to omit the part about the witch’s threat; it would only make her aunt worry more.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Kat said, after a brief pause. The excitement returned to her voice. “I can’t wait to see everyone again. And I’ll definitely take Alaric up on his offer to fly out first class.”

  Naomi called Emma next; she jumped as Emma screamed with delight when she told her the news. She shouldn’t have been surprised by her reaction. Emma had known Naomi as a secretive curator obsessed with her job and a nonexistent dating life. How things had changed.

  “I was only around you two briefly but I can tell you’re soulmates,” Emma gushed. “And I get to see that hunky vampire and witch. They’re going to be at the ceremony, I assume?”

  “Yes,” Naomi said, grinning at her description of Casimir and Elias as ‘hunky’. Their good looks hadn’t escaped her notice when she first met them, but Alaric’s beauty made every other creature pale in comparison.

  When she hung up with Emma, a slight pang pierced her. She was glad that she had Kat and Emma, yet she couldn’t help but wonder how it would’ve been if her parents were alive. They would have been the first call she made. Would they approve of her marrying a vampire? Or would they be cautious? Naomi could only imagine them being happy for her. Hadn’t they sacrificed their lives so she could live a full, happy life?

  She went downstairs to find the others; they were all gathered in the study.

  “I still didn’t find much about Raphael’s former lovers,” Casimir said. “Publicly, he only dated wealthy human heiresses. No witches. If the witch we’re looking for is a former lover, he kept her hidden well. And your description of her isn’t coming up in any of the Alliance databases, Naomi. It’s like she’s a ghost.”

  “We’ll just have to keep searching,” Madalena said. “No one is a ghost. We will find her.”

  A wave of frustration filled Naomi. If she was strong enough to prevent the witch from entering her mind and manipulating her, she’d have located her by now.

  “Why don’t you take a break from all this, Naomi?” Madalena asked. “We’ll come get you if we find anything.”

  Naomi hesitated. She wanted to try another Locator spell for the Stone, though she suspected searching for the witch was a better plan; her multiple attempts to locate the Stone had come up empty.

  But maybe a break was in order. Madalena and the others were searching, and Naomi did have something else to concentrate on—planning an impromptu witch bonding ceremony.

  Madalena loaned her a grimoire that detailed the intricacies of witch weddings; Naomi found a quiet room and sat down to read. She focused on one passage in particular:

  During a witch bonding ceremony, the coven typically stands around the marrying couple in a circle lined by enchanted stones. The couple then recites their vows in the ancient language before performing a hand fasting ceremony to seal their bond.

  As a historian, Naomi was well aware of hand fasting ceremonies; a practice common among the ancient Celts, a joining of hands along with a prayer. But a magical hand fasting was more intricate. It involved a spell that joined the couple’s hands with visible magical bonds, wrapping around their bodies and sealing the couple together for several minutes while the coven performed a group Bonding spell.

  She was practicing the words of the spell when she heard Alaric return. She put down her grimoire and found him in their guest bedroom. She got right to the point.

  “What were you doing in London?”

  He froze, avoiding her gaze, and Naomi’s stomach tightened. He was still keeping secrets from her.

  “I’ll tell you during dinner,” he said. “I promise. I asked the others to give us some alone time. I want to cook something for us.”

  Naomi relaxed, though her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Vampires . . . cook?”

  “You still have a lot to learn about my kind,” Alaric said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yes, we do. I regret that we never had a proper courtship. I’d like for us to have an official betrothal dinner, just the two of us.”

  “And then you’ll tell me what you were in London for?” she pressed. She wasn’t going to let him get off easy.

  There was a trace of hesitancy in his expression, but he nodded. “And then I’ll tell you what I was in London for.”

  “You have a date,” Naomi said, smiling.

  That evening, the others left them the dining room. True to his word, Alaric prepared a meal of roasted chicken with pomegranate citrus glaze along with generous sides of vegetables. He even set up candles in the center of the table.

  Naomi took it in, moved. This was one of her favorite meals; her mother often cooked these same dishes for her and her father.

  “How did you know?” Naomi asked.

  “Your aunt told me. We had many conversations about you back at the estate,” Alaric said, pushing back her chair so she could sit.

  “Oh no,” Naomi said, with mock horror. “What else did she tell you?”

  “Mostly good things. She did tell me about an unfortunate haircut you sported when you were seventeen. Showed me photos and everything.”

  Naomi groaned, and Alaric laughed.

  For the next half hour, Naomi pretended they were a regular couple enjoying a romantic meal together, and Alaric played along. They discussed everything but the Order, the witch and the Stone. She told him the details of what she’d learned about witch bonding ceremonies. Alaric told her he he had been to one witch bonding ceremony, fifty years ago, during which the two witches getting bonded had accidentally set the surrounding grounds on fire, which both horrified and amused Naomi. He then told her about Fiona and how he could tell that she missed Casimir, but he was determined not to meddle, which relieved Naomi.

  They spoke of how much they both missed Alaric’s estate, nestled in the northern English countryside, and how they’d settle in there once they had a break from all this.

  Naomi allowed herself to briefly fantasize about this; no threat from the Order or another Incantation Stone, just spending idyllic moments at the estate, reading the dozens of books in the library, enjoying moonlit dinners in the courtyard, long nights of making love . . .

  Intuiting her thoughts, Alaric reached out to cover her hand with his.

  “We will have a life together, Naomi,” he murmured.

  Keeping his hand over hers, Alaric knelt down next to her chair, taking out a velvet box from his pocket.

  She stilled, studying the ring he took out. It was a gimmel ring, a common wedding ring popular during the seventeenth century . . . the century when Alaric was human.

  “I was in London fetching this ring from one of my old homes,” he said, taking her hand and sliding it on to her finger. “It belonged to my mother. I want you to wear it as my bride, my mate,” he said, his blue eyes settling on hers, filling with quiet emotion. “I’ll wear the other half. When we wed, they—“

  “Link,” Naomi murmured, a rush of warmth sweeping over her as she looked down at the ring. It had only been on her finger for seconds, but it felt like i
t had always been there. Like it belonged. “Alaric, this is beautiful. Thank you.” A sudden thought occurred to her, temporarily dimming her joy. “Has—has anyone else worn this?”

  She lowered her eyes, thinking of Ileana. Alaric reached out to cup her chin with his hand, making her look at him.

  “I’ve never given this ring to anyone before you. I’ve never wanted to give this ring to anyone but you.”

  Naomi smiled, and her heart soared. A part of her selfishly hated that Alaric had loved another woman before her, while she had only ever loved him. The fact that no one else had worn his ring filled her with relief.

  “I love you,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her. She returned it, desire and love flowing through her, until Alaric released her.

  Over the meal, Naomi told him about her conversations with Kat and Emma, and what she’d learned about witch wedding ceremonies. She avoided discussing the witch and the Order, though they were both in the back of her mind. Tonight, she just wanted to enjoy his company.

  Yet even after they finished their meal, retreating to their room to make love, their bodies entwined in heated passion, echoes of the witch’s threat reverberated in her mind. You will never wed your Blood Beast.

  Chapter 10

  Kat, Fiona and Emma arrived throughout the next day; their arrivals were enough to temporarily distract Naomi from the witch’s threat.

  Fiona was the first to arrive. She embraced each of them, including Casimir, and Naomi could detect the heat between them as their eyes locked, and held. For a moment, they seemed unaware of everyone else in the room. Naomi exchanged a glance with Alaric, who looked back and forth between his daughter and Casimir with concern. Naomi had advised Alaric to stay out of their tenuous and unresolved relationship; she hoped he would still heed her advice.

  Casimir finally released Fiona, but his eyes remained trained on her. Flushing, Fiona approached Naomi to embrace her.

  “Thanks for making my stubborn father so happy,” Fiona said, when she pulled back.

  “Stubborn?” Alaric asked, innocently raising his eyebrows, before leaning down to peck his daughter on both cheeks.

  Alaric took her bag, and they walked her to her guest room. Fiona told them about her travels. After leaving Alaric’s estate, she’d spent some time in rural Japan before heading to Tokyo. She’d been on her way to Seoul when Alaric had called. Naomi could see the relief on Alaric’s face at the news that his daughter was traveling in Asia; the Order’s activities were limited there.

  “So,” Fiona said, her eyes darting back and forth between Naomi and Alaric. “I know it’s probably secret Alliance business, but I take it there’s a reason you’re holed up in a farmhouse outside of London. And why you’re getting married so soon.”

  “The Order doesn’t rest,” Alaric said simply, “we’re here for Naomi’s safety.”

  A rush of irritation went through Naomi at his words; she was tired of him thinking of her as the person the group constantly had to protect rather than an active member.

  “We’re here as a precaution,” she said, giving Alaric a sharp look. “As for why we’re getting married now . . . Alaric doesn’t believe we should put our life on hold, and I agree. And we already share a Blood Bond.”

  Fiona nodded, but a look of unease flickered across her face.

  “Is there another Incantation Stone out there?” she asked.

  “There is. We’re doing everything we can to find and destroy it,” Naomi said, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt.

  “It never ends, does it?” Fiona breathed, shaking her head.

  “It will, one day,” Alaric said. “As long as we keep fighting.”

  Emma was the next to arrive. Joy flowed through her at the sight of her friend; she’d missed her almost as much as she missed Kat. Emma represented normalcy, something other than the supernatural battle she was now a part of. She grinned as Emma greeted Casimir, Elias and Alaric with a furious blush. Casimir didn’t seem to notice, Alaric was polite, while Elias flirted shamelessly with a wink. Of the three of them, Elias seemed to be the most aware of his good looks, and reveled in female attention.

  As Naomi led Emma to her guest room, she warned her about Elias’s indiscriminate flirtations, but Emma just shrugged.

  “I can tell he’s a flirt,” Emma said. “Most good looking men are. I suppose it’s more intense when you’re a vampire.” She set down her suitcase, taking in the spacious guest room. “What is it with vampires and their amazing homes? When you said it was a farmhouse, I expected something more ramshackle. This place looks like it belongs in Architectural Digest. How many homes does Elias have?”

  “A lot,” Naomi said dryly.

  “Makes sense. First thing I’d do if I were a vampire—buy stocks and become filthy rich. Then I’d use a thrall on my evil new boss, convince him to retire,” Emma said, her brown eyes dancing with mischief.

  Naomi grinned.

  “Is he worse than our boss in Athens?” she asked.

  “Worse. My life could really use a pick me up right now; I have to say I’m a tad jealous of you. You’re marrying a hot vampire. And you’re a witch. Have you gotten used to it yet? How often do you need to pinch yourself?”

  “Not as often anymore,” Naomi said. “I think I’ve gotten used to all this, believe it or not.”

  As an outsider, Emma only saw the perks of being a part of the supernatural world. Naomi thought of the second Stone and the witch, and her smile faded.

  “What’s going on?” Emma asked, noticing the change in her expression. “That’s not the look of a blushing bride on the eve of her wedding day.”

  Naomi bit her lip. How many times had she kept things from Emma when they worked together in Athens? Her days of secrecy were over.

  She sat Emma down and told her everything that had happened since they left the estate. When she finished, Emma had paled, but she looked at Naomi with resolve.

  “Alaric’s right. You still need to live your lives. Prove that psycho witch wrong. You can’t let fear hold you back.”

  “I won’t,” Naomi said. “But . . . I was nervous about having you and Kat come out here. If there’s any hint of danger, you need to—“

  “I know the drill. Get out of dodge and stay off the radar,” Emma said, waving her concerns aside. “Now. Back to the important stuff. What are you going to wear?”

  Naomi smiled, grateful that she was here. She needed some levity in her life. Emma was the closest friend she’d ever had. During the time Naomi spent in Athens, Emma had been her confidant. They’d spent countless hours working late at the museum while mutually griping about their boss, enjoying the various taverns and restaurants Athens had to offer, spending time at each other’s apartments watching movies and trying out various Greek recipes. She’d thought Emma would abandon her when she told her the truth about who she was. But Emma had believed her, and stuck by her.

  “Madalena’s going into the city to grab a simple dress for me,” Naomi said, with a casual shrug. She’d given her dress little thought. The intricate Bonding spell she needed to perform for the hand fasting had concerned her more.

  “Actually . . . I think I can help with the dress.”

  Naomi turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Kat stood by the doorway, smiling.

  Naomi stood and rushed into her aunt’s arms. She didn’t realize how much she missed Kat until seeing her in the flesh.

  “I missed you too, honey,” Kat murmured, when Naomi pulled back.

  “When did you get here?”

  “Just now. Madalena already helped me to my guest room,” Kat replied. She turned to Emma with a warm smile. “Hi, Emma. Good to see you again. Come with me, both of you. I want to show you something.”

  In Kat’s guest room, she opened her suitcase, taking out a beautiful red silk dress with long flowing skirts and a finely laced bodice.

  “Your parents had a human ceremony but that was mostly for show, “ Kat said, hand
ing Naomi the dress. “This is the dress your mother wore for their witch bonding ceremony.”

  “I thought my mother didn’t participate in the witch world,” Naomi said, surprised.

  “She spent ninety percent of her time in the human world, yes. But she did sometimes take part in local coven events. And it was important to her to have a witch bonding ceremony with your father,” Kat said. “I know it’s cliché to wear your mother’s wedding dress. If you want to wear something else, I’d under—“

  “No,” Naomi whispered, shaking her head, her eyes filling with tears as she held up the dress. This would be the one tangible connection she had to her mother during her ceremony. “I want to wear this. I’d be honored to.”

  Kat beamed at her before reaching down to unearth something else from her suitcase. It was a thin, ancient looking grimoire. Kat handed it to Naomi.

  “And there’s this. I found it with your mother’s things in my attic; I forgot it was even there.”

  Naomi studied the grimoire, intrigued. Her historian’s eye told her it was old; maybe even centuries old. She carefully flipped it open. The spells inside were all written in the ancient language, and Naomi recognized only a few phrases.

  She froze as she flipped to one page in particular. It was labeled with the words: Freeil greadem lengi. She didn’t know what the other two words meant, but she knew that Freeil meant ‘Destruction’. She made a mental note to ask Madalena about it later.

  “Thank you,” Naomi murmured, touching the delicate binding of the book. This grimoire had belonged to her mother; another connection to the side of her that had been a witch. Had the grimoire been passed down to her mother? By her biological family? Naomi couldn’t wait to delve into it.

  “I’m not done,” Kat said, her eyes twinkling. “I also brought photos of your parents’ witch bonding ceremony. I thought it was fitting.”

  She handed Naomi a small photo album. Naomi looked down at it with anticipation. She’d only seen photos of their traditional human wedding. This would be a glimpse into the world her parents had kept hidden from her.