by Shyla Colt
“If you take the time to look, I think you may see signs of magic use in this instance. Marcellus is above reproach. He and the rest of Cristobal’s court have a reputation for fairness, control, and loyalty. Throwing that all away over a snack would be foolish. I’m pretty sure we’ll all agree that’s one thing they’re not. Now, if you tried to argue that feeding is in their nature, and everyone loses control at some point, I’d counter that baseless accusation with the fact that if he did slip up, he’d never be so sloppy about it.”
Everard and his father peer at one another. I sense they’re weakening. I walk over to stand between Luz and Cristobal. There’s strength in numbers, and beneath the calm façade, Cristobal is livid. Between the treatment of his third in command, to the blatant disrespect he threw my way, my dark prince has had enough. I stand closer to him than I normally would, brushing my side against his. “So, like I said, release him.”
“To who?” Mr. Dupuex asks.
“Me. I’ll be responsible for him.”
Everard smirks. “You’d put your fate in their hands so easily?”
“Yes, because I know who’s trustworthy or not.” He sneers. “Release him, and allow me to do a spell to prove his innocence,” I insist.
“You can try. Boys, release the vampire, but be ready to defend yourself.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics and tap my foot. Marcellus is stock still as they work together, unwinding him from the steel boa constrictors wrapped around him. They drop the chains with a heavy clank. Just and Everard step back as if he’s a wild animal.
“Marcellus, come to me.” I reach for his hand, holding his gaze with my own. The manic stage is just below the surface, a threat from being unleashed. I will him to obey, and calm down. I draw on my bond with Cristobal. He speeds over to me and takes my hand. Releasing a shaky breath, I guide Marcellus out of the offices. “Show me where you last interacted with the woman that was murdered.” He guides me to a dark corner. “Did you take her blood?”
“Yes. But, only a few sips.”
My stomach sinks. “And it was consensual?”
“Yes, she sought me out.”
Thank, God. “Did you know her before tonight?”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“Okay, I want you to open your mind, and remember her.”
I reach inside his head and see her. Curvy with honey-brown skin, big brown eyes, and dark brown curls framing her face, she’s a temptress with full lips painted deep red. I hold her image in the forefront of my mind. Gathering my power, I began to chant.
In the dark secrets lie
Buried some place inside
You think they’re hidden very well
But I know you have cast a spell
Now in this place
For all to see
The truth will play
So mote it be
Images flicker and fade beside us. I pour more power into the spell, stabilizing them before they blink out once more. I battle the dark powers, desperate to get a clear image of what occurred. Light and dark do battle. It’s a game of tug war. The power the witch wields is immensely fueled by anger, rage, and greed. Our powers lock antlers like two bucks fighting over territory.
I feel the witch panic. They hadn’t anticipated a challenge. They begin to recede, and I latch on, trying to trace them. Like a wild animal caught by prey, they put everything they have into detaching me. The spell self-destructs with a snap that sends me tumbling back, only to be caught by strong arms. I peer into Cristobal’s worried gaze.
“I’m okay.” He steadies me on my feet. “I think it’s clear magic has been used. I’m shocked that you were so negligent in your search.”
“That doesn’t mean that one wasn’t in league with another witch to cover his tracks.”
“We both know that’s not the case.”
“You bring me the real killer, or we’ll punish him just the same. People witnessed this. There’s no covering it up, and we can’t have panic in either world.”
“I want to see the body.”
His eye bulge. “What?”
“Let’s measure the bite. I guarantee the teeth won’t be the same distance apart. The bite will be different. Scent is a small thing to change … creating an identical copy would take time the witch didn’t have.”
I see Marcellus smirk in the background. “Trust me, I would’ve known if anyone had come close enough to steal something as essential as hair or bodily fluid.” Vamps were weird about those things. They were precious and personal.
“The morgue has it,” he says glumly. “We compelled it so they’d believe it was a drug overdose.”
“Guess we’ll all be taking a ride.” I’m not about to let any of them out of my sight until we exonerate Marcellus.
An hour later we’re leaving the meat locker in the basement of the local police department with a reluctant agreement that Marcellus didn’t commit the crime.
“We got lucky this time,” Cristobal states. “This cannot continue. We’re going to run out of ways to exonerate ourselves.”
“I know.” I rub my eyes. They feel like they’re full of coffee grounds. The witch is still at large, more powerful than ever, and we’ve just acquired ourselves an enemy.
Worst. Saturday. Ever.
***
I work the curl enhancing serum into my hair, dragging out the time. I arrived here sticky with sweat, frustrated by the witch eluding us, and exhausted from the wringer the girls put me though. They aren’t fans of my secrecy.
Peering in the mirror, I realize I’ve lost weight since coming home. My collarbone is protruding, and dark circles are forming under my eyes. I’m feeling the pressure. I’m like a wishbone being pulled at from both sides. I have to be there to whip my family into shape with Tante Odette fighting me every step of the way. Meanwhile, I’m trying to bond with the Court, earn respect, and hunt down a homicidal Youngling and the witch controlling them. A person can only stretch so far.
I shove the thoughts away. I’m running on fumes. We stumbled into the house around three o’clock, and I’m already back up after six hours of sleep. Now I have to go play nice and present my findings.
“You’re tired.”
I glance over at Cristobal and smile. “Yeah, it happens to us humans. Remember?”
“Let me help you.”
“If by help you mean give me some of your blood, no thanks. It’s not like an energy drink.”
He holds out his wrist. “It could be.”
“It’ll strengthen the bond we’ve yet to fully deal with, and I’m not into casual blood exchange.”
He growls. “You’re always so stubborn. How can I take care of you when you fight me at every turn?”
“You want to take care of me your way. You have to do it my way.”
“I thought relationships were about compromise.”
“There are always nonnegotiables.” I fluff my hair and roll my shoulders. I’m dressed in a pair of black pajama pants and a matching tank top with a black cat with green eyes. This is as good as its going to get at ten in the morning on my day off. “Did you get everyone together?”
“They’re waiting for you.”
“Joy of joys.”
His lips twitch upward.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I turn my body to face him.
He places his hands on my hips. “Your discomfort? No. But your integration into the core group of people I hold dear, yes.”
“Silver-tongued devil.” It’s impossible to stay angry with a man who wields words like a poet from days long gone.
“Perhaps. Are you ready?” He offers his hand.
Taking it, I allow him to guide me out of my room into the living room. I smirk at the scene in front of me. Sprawled across couches, chairs, and the floor they
look like any old group of friends having wine. I know their particular red is more blood than alcohol, and that the brownies are sweet because they were made with O positive. The things that are becoming normal are frightening if I look at them too closely. We’re all in need of some comfort after last night. I’m not judging them.
Luz offers me a smile. “Don’t worry. We made you a regular batch.”
“And by we, she means me,” Ruby says.
“What? You want me in the kitchen?” Luz asks snarkily.
“No,” Ruby and Ada all but yell.
I laugh. They’re growing on me, like mold. But tasty things come from mold, like cheese.
“Yum. Sounds like a balanced breakfast.”
“Shut up, girls like chocolate,” Gil says.
I roll my eyes. “Not all.”
“No, but you do, Lou Lou,” Gil says cheerfully.
“Don’t call me that,” I mumble.”
“Someone get her coffee, so she can become human again,” Marcellus says. It’s the kindest he’s been to me … ever.
And all I had to do was save his life.
“Not possible, witch,” I tease.
“Oh she’s cheeky today,” says Rene.
Rene flashes over with my Jack Skellington mug, and I smile. I don’t mind their speed when it’s used to accomplish my bidding.
“Thank you.”
“Him she smiles at,” Miles mumbles.
“Everyone smiles at Rene, Miles. Don’t take it personally.” I wink and bring the elixir of the gods to my lips. The coffee and chocolate mixture goes down hot and just the right amount of sweet and strong. The caffeine hits me, chasing away the fatigue, and jump-starting my brain.
“Better?” Cristobal asks.
“Tolerable.” I inhale the rich aroma. “I went to Witching yesterday, and I saw Sabine. She’s dealt with the witch we’re after.” Marcellus and Percival sit up straighter in their seats. I retell my strange visit, and they listen quietly until I’m finished.
“Do you have thoughts about what you think is meant?” Percival asks.
“I’m not sure. I wanted to bring it to you first for a fresh perspective.”
They exchange glances, and I sense a conversation occurring around me.
“At the heart of darkness. It could be the delta of a rive,” Miles suggests.
“Or the heart of a forest. It can be quite dark there,” Ada says softly.
“It could also be a cave for all we know. Plenty of places are dark and connected to a circular entrance. Let’s look at the rest. She said to offer a boon.”
“That can be summoning,” I say quietly.
“A demon?” Ruby asks.
“Anything willing to deal,” I reply with a shrug.
“What could offer enough power to do what the witch is doing?” Percival asks.
“A dark entity, a fairy—”
“The place could be in or around a fairy ring. It fits because it would require a gift to summon and control a fairy,” Miles remarks.
“But where? There are plenty of places to summon a Fae.”
“That’s where the heart of darkness must come in,” Rene says.
I take a seat on the end of the couch, and Cristobal sinks down beside me. I lean into him. Luz hands me a brownie, and I smile my thanks. It’s been slow going, but we’re mending the broken bridge between us. I nibble at the decadent baked good and let my mind wander. It can’t be just any forest. The phrase is too specific. The heart of darkness was often thought to mean the evil instincts of man we all have.
“The dark forest seems too easy, doesn’t it?” Miles asks.
“It does. But many deals have been made there. My gut tells me we’re wrong. If we aren’t literal, perhaps it’s an allegory that alludes to the evil we’re all capable of.”
“How would that be represented in real life, though?” Luz asks.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Where’s a place you’re forced to look at yourself?”
“In a mirror,” Percival says.
The words make something click. “Water casts a reflection.”
“The Black Well,” Cristobal says.
Once used by pilgrims who believed it could wash away their sins, the Black Well is full of negative entities. The broken-down structure has crumbled and sunk into the ground. The thought of what would slither up to it to make a deal is terrifying. I sigh. “We have to go there. Sabine said we’d find answers there.”
“You put so much stock in the old witch?” Marcellus asks.
“We made a witch’s promise. Magic doesn’t lie. The words she spoke were the truth.”
***
In the middle of a dense forest, the well is all but invisible to the layperson. I can feel the energy it emits from the road. The bumps that cover my arms and neck are at odds with the muggy atmosphere. The Puritan well is a craggy hole in the ground. From a distance I can’t see it, but I can feel it. The pulsing magic sends out a call in an attempt to snare those willing to pay the price. The air is electric with possibility. I glance at my companions.
“Can you feel it?”
“Not in the way you do,” Cristobal replies.
“It’s a vortex. A portal that allows things to travel between realms,” Miles explains.
“No wonder it feels so icky.” We pause inches away from the circular structure, and all I want to do is get as far away from it as possible.
I crouch down to examine the crumbling stone, feeling out the aura. “I know how they got their power. Blood magic.”
“Can you track it?”
“In a way.” My skin crawls at the thought of doing a summoning here, but I’m left with no choice. “I can summon and ask questions.” Shrugging the backpack off, I set it on the ground.
“You don’t know what the witch struck a bargain with.”
“No, but I’m looking for information, not power. I’ve come prepared to trade. All eyes are watching here. I don’t have to be specific.”
Summonings are always dangerous. It doesn’t mean I can’t take calculated risks to minimize the danger. I line up everything I’ll need within the space, pop the cap on my bottle water, and fill the bronze bowl.
I envision clean white light as I draw the circle large enough to encompass us all with chalk, and follow the lines with salt to reinforce it. I set each item in a corner before I stand, anthame in hand, and make a clockwise circle, closing it magically before I begin to call down protection.
Ancestors be with me as I cast this circle
Grant me protection and power
Lend me your blessing
Guardians of the North, Element of Earth, I call upon thee I light the green candle with a thought and turn.
Guardians of the East, Element of Air
I light the essence. The sweet smell of sandalwood begins to fill the air.
Guardians of the South, Element of Fire
I light a red candle.
Guardians of the West, Element of Water
I warm the bottle in the bowl, feeling the connection to the four elements flowing through me. I slowly spin three times.
Bless this circle and keep me protected
No unwanted entities are allowed here
No harm can come to me
The circle is cast, so mote it be
A hum sounds as the protection locks into place, a barrier between me and the unknown.
I kneel and draw a smaller circle. Stepping out, I write lesser entity in the grass with the tip of my anthame and stand.
“Now it will be confined here, and we’ll benefit from the protective circle I originally created,” I explain, answering their inquisitive looks. I raise my hand in the air and picture a shadowy figure.
“Come … Come …” I push
out pulses of power with my words. Just like with fishing, I feel a jerk as I get a bite. “Come,” I command, and something obeys. A swirling black mass appears in the circle.
“I offer you blood in exchange for information. Do you accept?”
“Yes.” The disembodies voice is masculine and growly.
“Someone came to you seeking power recently. What can you tell me about them?”
“A lot of people come here for that.”
“I know you remember this one. They would’ve had a specific request, the ability to have power over vampires.”
The mass appears to grow more agitated. “Oh yes, that one had ambition.”
“What can you tell me about him or her?”
“She. Aren’t females always the deadliest of the species? It’s their ambitions. It makes their souls taste so sweet when devoured.” The pleasure in the voice is enough to turn a stomach.
“What did she look like?”
“Humans, so vain.” The censure is almost amusing. If I was incorporeal, I wouldn’t get the hype about a body either. “Too much and I ruin the game. Older. Hungry, so hungry. We liked that.” My stomach rolls. It wants the damage to be done. Even now it’s fighting to stay vague because it craves carnage.
“Malnourished?” I ask, trying to think like a being who may have never been human. It’s like figuring out a puzzle.
“Neh, starved for power. Bargained it all for a taste of greatness. Greedy, greedy, greedy.” If it had hands, it’d be rubbing them together while it salivated.
“Can you tell us anything more?”
“Hates everyone. Wants to see all of you broken and bleeding.”
I shake my head. I’m missing a connection. “Why?”
“You’ll see. Soon enough. You’ll see.”
“How can we track them?”
“They left something behind here. Find the trace and follow the thread. If you can. Payment now.” It shoots to the left and the right as if seeking an exit.
Kneeling, I grab the knife, eager to end this. I slice my palm and hold out my hand. Blood drips down into the darkness, and the mass seems to grow. I let it flow until it clots.
“That’s all you get. I release you from the circle.” I toe the line of salt and chalk with my boots, and set a silent binding spell to keep it from harming us.