Heart Seeker (The Fire Heart Chronicles Book 1)

by Juliana Haygert

  I let out a long, relieved breath.

  I could go back to school and the dance studio and reconnect with Ellie now. I knew the enclaves would still ask me to join them or keep a low profile, which I didn’t mind. If it meant I had my life back, if I made my own rules, I didn’t mind.

  Finally, I was free.

  My mother drove us to Lovell. It was odd, seeing her drive there without the use of a gps or help of a map. She hadn’t set foot in this place for over twenty years, and yet, the serene smile on her lips told me she was content. To her, it was like coming home.

  Even if after the warriors opened the stone gates for us, one of them told her she had to wait by the main house until someone came to pick her up for the ritual. Since it was a historical day for the tziganes, she would be allowed to witness it.

  My mother sat on a deep-cushioned chair and offered me an encouraging smile. I didn’t feel too good about leaving her alone here.

  “Go on,” she said, beckoning toward the door.

  I showed her my cell phone was in the back pocket of my jeans. “Call me if you need me.”

  “Will do,” she promised.

  I walked out the main house as Ryane was coming up the stairs. Like before, she was pure tzigane with a long skirt, a blouse with lace details, and lots of jewelry. A brown bandana was tied around her head, keeping her hair back, and emphasizing her pretty face.

  She smiled at me. “There you are. Feeling better?”

  I pressed a hand to my back, where the bandage was. “A little.” As for the black mark on my cheek, it was still sore, but at least I could hide it with makeup.

  She linked her arm through mine. “Then let’s go.”

  The square looked as alive and decorated as the other time I had been here, if not more. It pulsated with energy, power, and tension. Everyone here was expectant. Anxious. Hopeful.

  Ryane pulled me to a group of women who talked animatedly about their lives and hobbies. Their eyes fell on me. Instantly, they bombarded me with questions: how it was to live outside, how it was to live not knowing what I was until now, where had I lived, had I gone to many parties, how strong were my powers, how were the attacks against me, and finally, what had happened at the alchemists’ mansion.

  My voice kept breaking down while I tried to tell them a little about it all.

  Beside us, Ryane had gone silent and still. I followed her gaze and saw Artan and Oscar crossing an arch into the square. A long, polished wooden box rested in Oscar’s hands.

  More people arrived in the square, and everyone formed a circle around the open back vurdon that had been parked in the middle of the square.

  Finally, the Bellville enclave arrived. Neil, Sheila, Dolan, Theron, Ramon, Jaime, Shay, Nico, Cora, and Rye stood in the back, their backs straight, their chins high.

  Annie, in Maire’s arms, looked like a mini Greek goddess, with a simple but elegant white dress and white flowers in her hair. Her eyes were huge, a little scared and expectant.

  As Oscar deposited the wooden box over the vurdon, which now I understood was supposed to act as a stage or dais, Darcy and my mother came into the square. They stood in the back, as if my mother was still not welcomed here.

  My attention—along with everyone else’s—shifted to the center of the circle, where Maire put Annie on the ground and took her to the vurdon.

  “Go now,” Maire said, pushing her gently.

  One awkward step after another, Annie went up the front of the vurdon, her huge eyes on the box. She reached to the box, her hands shaking, and opened it. A flower lay alone on the velvet interior of the box. The heart-shaped, red flower.

  The Heart Flower.

  Annie froze.

  “Go on, child,” Oscar said from behind her.

  But Annie didn’t move. With unsure eyes, she glanced around, seeming lost and scared. Her eyes fixed on mine.

  “What does she have to do?” I asked in a low whisper to Ryane.

  “She has to pick up the flower,” Ryane answered, equally low.

  That was it? And why didn’t anyone help?

  I walked to her, up in the vurdon.

  “Hey, sweet bun.” I crouched beside her. “Do you know what you have to do?” Annie nodded. “Then why don’t you just pick the flower up?” She stared at the shiny flower, her eyes bigger and bigger. “All right.” I stood and grabbed the flower, extending it toward Annie.

  The whole square gasped at the same time, sounding like a humongous animal.

  “By Saint Sara-la-Kali,” Oscar whispered, his hands pressed together.

  “What?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious for being under everyone’s huge eyes. “What is it?”

  “My dear.” Her face blanched, Sheila made her way to the front and stepped closer to the vurdon. “Give the flower to Annie.”

  As if that wasn’t my intention. I jerked my already extended arm to Annie, but she shook her head. “It’s okay, sweet bun. You can take it now.” Trying to help her, I grabbed her arm, pulled it to me, and placed the flower on her open palm. Instantly, the flower melted into a red liquid that vaporized before reaching the ground. “What the hell?”

  “You are the Heart Maiden,” Sheila said, her words breaking as her eyes filled with tears.

  I gasped, sure I hadn’t heard her right. “What?”

  “Only the Heart Maiden can touch the flower,” Oscar explained, his face alight. “It melts whenever it’s touched by others.”

  My heart thundered in my chest. “You’re kidding.”

  “We don’t kid about these matters,” Darcy said, stepping out of the crowd.

  “But ...” My mind was spinning. How could I be the Heart Maiden? “But my powers aren’t strong. You can ask Sheila.” I gestured toward her, who was smiling at me. “And the fire thing. It was Annie.”

  “True,” Oscar said, probably remembering he was there and saw it all. “Annie.” He turned to the girl. “How did you control all those alchemists and conjure the fire?”

  Annie, with a relieved expression, shrugged. “I can sense and channel the power of others. I just channeled Ms. Reyes’s power.”

  My stomach dropped.

  It made sense. During the fight, whenever she had casted a spell, I felt weaker and weaker.

  I was still in shock when Sheila stepped up on the vurdon and reached under the neck of my blouse.

  “Hey,” I complained before she could expose my bra to the public.

  She unhooked the safety pin from my bra, grabbed the pendant, and then looked to my mother on the edge of the square. “What spells did you put in here?”

  My mother pressed her lips tight before answering, “Protection and anti-tracking spells.” She shifted her weight and looked at her feet. “And an inhibitor.”

  Another general gasp, and another revealed lie from my dear mother.

  That was why the alchemists hadn’t been able to track me. Because I had been protected by the pendant. However, my things—my bracelets, my sweatshirt, my book, my scarf—none of that was protected and that was what the alchemists tracked. That one time they got me outside the club had been a sad coincidence.

  Without ceremony, Sheila opened the pendant, took the small receptacle with red liquid, and squashed it under her foot.

  I fell on my knees as an intense wave hit me, shaking my body, making me breathless and momentarily blind. A tingling sensation crawled from my chest down to all parts of my body, setting every one of my cells alive, charging it with pure, intense, alive power.

  Not much registered after that.

  I saw my mother, Artan, and Theron approaching. I saw the crowd closing in. I heard cheering shouts, I heard some people asking me if I was all right, I heard others talking about arrangements for my future, including where I should move to, choosing my protectors, and a no-wedding rule.

  My will was to argue, to tell them to go to hell for making decisions about me without even asking me, but the hundreds of explosions inside my body won over
, and my mind slipped into darkness.

  27

  “What do you want for dinner?” my mother asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. With the remote control, I changed the channel on the TV again. Since the ritual the previous day, nothing looked good.

  When I woke up from my dizzy spell, I was in Ryane’s room. Oscar and Darcy talked to me about my duties as Heart Maiden. I should be able to find the flowers whenever they appeared. Apparently, they could sprout anywhere in the globe and we had to get to them quick, before they faded or before alchemists did. Because of these dangerous missions, I should practice with my magic so I could protect myself.

  Also, because I was too valuable, I would be protected every second of every day—that earned me another lecture about ditching Artan and leaving with Ellie the night of the fight. Okay, I hated the idea of having eyes on me all the time, but now I understood how badly it could end. As they explained, more alchemists would come for me now.

  Of course, they insisted I should live in the Lovell enclave. For a moment, I thought they would lock me in there. Only after promising I would think about it, they let me go back to my house—with a dozen warriors.

  What pushed my buttons though was the no-wedding rule. Not that I wanted to get married. Actually, I couldn’t see myself married, but I didn’t want others deciding my future for me. However, they emphasized this was an important rule, to preserve my purity and my powers. Ha! I almost laughed in their faces. They really thought I was still pure? Nevertheless, I let them think whatever they wanted. I wouldn’t be the one to spoil the party.

  As a reminder of the imposed deal, Artan walked past the living room door, patrolling the inside of the house, as he did every thirty minutes. Somewhere outside, Sloan prowled around, on lookout, along with Tomas and Leander and others I didn’t know yet.

  “Aren’t you hungry for something?” my mother asked. “How about homemade goulash?”

  She wouldn’t leave me alone if I didn’t agree to something. “Okay.”

  “Good.” She slipped off the couch and scurried to the kitchen.

  Relieved at being left alone, even if for a few seconds, I sprawled on the couch and closed my eyes. If only my powers could erase everything, go back in time, to the day I was oblivious to all of this, back to my old life. I preferred when I didn’t know anything about my origin and my destiny.

  After Sheila had broken the spells from the pendant, my powers had increased tenfold. But it was unstable. It was too much for me, too fast. So, once we were back home, my mother gave me a little of the inhibitor elixir—just enough to quiet down my powers until I learned how to control them.

  “How are you?” Artan asked. I glanced at him. He was stationed at the doorway, his hand around the hilt of his sword, confidence and braveness spilling in gallons all around him.

  I flipped the channel again, ignoring his question since the answer should be stamped on my face.

  He took a step closer. Then another. “Mirella …”

  The urgency in his tone grabbed my attention and I sat up on the couch, looking at him again. “What?”

  He stared at me with those depthless eyes, so hard and so serious, for a long moment. I probably imagined the tone of his voice before. He cleared his throat. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Tell me about Bellville and Lovell’s separation.”

  With a frown, Artan took the armchair beside the couch. “How much do you know?”

  “I just know Damara was the last Heart Maiden and that her death, over two hundred years ago, was what caused the separation.”

  He nodded. “You know about the no-wedding rule, right?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

  “Damara was proclaimed Heart Maiden when she was still a child. She grew up to be a beautiful woman, one who caused all the men of the enclave to turn their heads and stare at her. She knew about the no-wedding rule, and in the beginning, she was okay with that. She didn’t want to be tied down to any male.” He looked out the window, to the sun setting. “But then she fell in love with a fellow tzigane from the enclave, and despite being promised to another girl, he fell in love with her. Damara tried to convince the elders that she should be able to marry, that she could, but they wouldn’t allow it. And Emilian’s wedding day was fast approaching. So, desperate, Damara and Emilian decided to run away. But they were found out. For his punishment, the elders decided Emilian should be executed.”

  I gasped. “What? They can do that?”

  He nodded. “They can. I haven’t heard of another situation since then, but yes, they can. And they did. To serve as an example, Emilian was killed. And Damara lost it. She went crazy and killed herself.”

  “Oh my …”

  “Revolted, Emilian’s family left the enclave, thus later creating Bellville.”

  “Wow …” So, the elders had the power to sentence a tzigane to death because they fell in love with the “wrong” person. That was crazy. Falling in love wasn’t like picking one’s outfit for the day. It wasn’t a conscious choice. One that I didn’t have anymore. “I’m … I have no words.”

  “I know, it’s not a pretty story.” He paused. “And I’m sure the elders of that time regretted their decision.”

  Of course they did. They lost their beloved Heart Maiden because of it. If only they knew the tziganes would spend two hundred years without one.

  And here a new one was.

  Ready to be leashed and commanded by the elders.

  I stared at my hands, realizing they would soon claim my body and soul too, and not even my hands would be mine anymore.

  Something cracked in my chest. Just a couple of days ago, I thought I was free.

  A tear ran down my cheek.

  “You’ll be alright,” Artan said, his voice less harsh than usual. “You know that, right? You’re our esteemed Heart Maiden. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Of course. They didn’t care about Mirella. It was all about the Heart Maiden now. “Sure,” I muttered, wiping at the tears that sprung to my eyes. I raised my chin, defying whoever was in charge of writing our fates. Mine looked gloomy so far, but I would handle it. Somehow, I would handle it. “I will be fine.”

  Thank you

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  Flame Caster

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  About the Author

  While USA Today Bestselling Author Juliana Haygert dreams of being Wonder Woman, Buffy, or a blood elf shadow priest, she settles for the less exciting—but equally gratifying—life as a wife, a mother, and an author. Thousands of miles away from her former home in Brazil, she now resides in North Carolina and spends her days writing about kick-ass heroines and the heroes who drive them crazy.

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  www.julianahaygert.com

  Also by Juliana Haygert

  www.julianahaygert.com/books/

  Free

  Into the Darkest Fire

  Tested

  Secret Santa

  Rite of the Vampire Saga

  The Vampire Heir (Book 1)

  The Witch Queen (Book 2)

  The Immortal Vow (Book 3)

  The Everlast Series

  Destiny Gift (Book 1)

  Soul Oath (Book 2)

  Cup of Life (Book 3)

  The Everlasting Circle (Book 4)

  The Fire Heart Chronicles


  Heart Seeker (Book 1)

  Flame Caster (Book 2)

  Sorrow Bringer (Book 3)

  Willow Harbor Series

  Hunter’s Revenge (Book 3)

  Siren’s Song (Book 5)

  The Breaking Series

  Breaking Free (Book 1)

  Breaking Away (Book 2)

  Breaking Through (Book 3)

  Standalones

  Playing Pretend

  Captured Love

  Dazzle Me