Of Witches and Warlocks: The Trouble with Spells

by Lacey Weatherford

Chapter 24

  Everyone had gone home except Dad and Grandma, and they were asleep in the upstairs bedrooms. I’d been lying for hours on a cot pushed up against the glass wall, needing to be close to Vance.

  He hadn’t awakened since he’d passed out in front of me at the bar, still slumped over on his side in the exact position they’d put him. I would’ve worried he was dead, except I could see his deep even breaths. Though I still couldn’t hear anything from his mind, I kept trying to reach him mentally, but so far I’d had no luck.

  Reaching out, I traced a finger over the divider, making tiny sparks in the magical current running through it. It didn’t bother me at all, but then again, the magic wasn’t meant to keep me out, but him in. The need for sleep began to threaten, and I yawned, watching him as long as I could before my eyes grew too heavy to fight it any longer.

  I found myself standing in the beautiful field of flowers again, and I turned around, expecting to see him standing there—the field was empty, however. I sighed and sat down in the tall waving foliage, staring off into the serene space for a long while.

  “Portia,” I heard him whisper my name on the breeze.

  I jumped to my feet, spinning around as I tried to spot him.

  “Vance?” I called, my heart racing. “Where are you?”

  “Portia. I need you!” he replied again. This time it sounded like he was right next to me, and I turned quickly to face him, but he wasn’t there.

  “Portia!” he growled. “Wake up!”

  Instantly, my eyes popped open, and I was face to face with the demon-red eyes that had been haunting me.

  “Help me!” he said, placing his hand on the glass. I saw the current was shocking him, but he didn’t move away.

  “You’re awake! That’s wonderful!” I said, a sigh of relief coursing through me.

  “Please, Portia. You have to help me,” he pleaded again.

  “What do you need me to do?” I wished I could just take down this barrier and hold him in my arms.

  “I’m thirsty. I need a drink.”

  “We left water for you on the stand beside your bed.” I pointed to it. “There’s food too if you’re hungry. I’m sure you’re feeling very weak now.”

  “No!” he rasped again. “I’m thirsty!”

  “So go get a drink!” I replied, becoming frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me.

  He stood and angrily went to the tray, flicking it across the room with his hand, flinging the contents everywhere.

  I stood, resting both my hands on the glass. “What’re you doing?” I asked in irritation.

  He strode back to the partition and placed his hands against mine, leaning heavily on it. I could see he was trembling.

  “I need a drink, Portia. Please! Just come in here with me. I promise I won’t take too much.”

  Suddenly his meaning became clear. He was thirsty and needed a drink of blood. He was asking to feed on me.

  “I’m sorry, Vance. You know that’s impossible.”

  “Bull!” he yelled, clenching his hands together and pounding his fists against the glass.

  I gasped and took a few steps backward.

  “Let me out of here, Portia!” He continued to beat on the barrier, the heat in his eyes flaring. When I didn’t move or say anything, he pushed away and began pacing around the small space like a feral cat.

  I watched him as he moved, wringing his hands, rubbing his arms, running his fingers through his hair. He continued that way for several minutes before returning to the divider.

  “I’m sorry.” He stared at me with pleading eyes. “Please come here.”

  I walked over next to the pane.

  “Portia, I need to have some blood. I’m getting sick.”

  I shook my head. “No, Vance. It’s the blood that’s making you sick.”

  “You don’t understand.” He turned his back to me and slid down the wall to the floor. He grabbed his hair in his hands. “If I don’t get any, I’ll die.”

  This pierced straight to the center of my heart, and I couldn’t bear it. The thought of losing him again was more than I could stand.

  “Portia! Don’t even consider it!” my dad’s voice came strongly from behind me. “He’s trying to trick you.”

  Instantly Vance was on his feet, pounding at the barrier with all his might.

  “Let me out!” he screamed, exposing his teeth in a snarl.

  My dad pulled me away from the wall.

  Vance stepped backward and starting throwing fireballs at the partition with both hands—one after another. The magic field easily absorbed the shock, but he didn’t stop.

  “Let him get it all out,” my dad said.

  I cried as I watched, hating not being able to help.

  Vance finally stopped and slumped onto the floor against the bed.

  “I thought you loved me,” he said weakly, hanging his head, refusing to make eye contact with me.

  “I do love you, more than you can comprehend right now,” I tried to explain. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

  He rolled over with a huff, his back to me, not saying anything else. After a while, I could tell he was sleeping again.

  “Let him rest,” Dad said. “That’s the best thing for him.”

  I nodded, my guilt over not being able to help him threatened to overwhelm me.

  “Why don’t you come upstairs and get something to eat now?” he suggested. “You need to keep your strength up too.”

  “I can’t leave him,” I replied with a sigh.

  “All right,” he said, choosing not to argue with me. “I’ll find something for you to eat and bring it down here.”

  He left the room, and I sat on my cot. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to eat again—my stomach was too tied up in knots.

  Lying down, I continued to watch Vance until I fell asleep.

  Sometime later, I was awakened by a soft nudge on my shoulder, and I opened one sleepy eye to see my mother standing over me with a plate of food. She gave a nod, gesturing for me to follow her. I did, finding she had the table set up in the supply room.

  “I thought you could use some real food.” She set a plate of her steaming enchiladas in front of me and another on the table for herself.

  The food actually smelled wonderful, and I realized, with surprise, I was starving. I picked up a utensil, digging right in, and we silently ate together for several moments before she spoke up.

  “I’ve been really worried about you.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “Things have been crazy—too crazy for a young girl.” She studied me carefully.

  “I’m stronger than you think,” I replied and placed another forkful of enchiladas into my mouth.

  “I know you are. I’ve never doubted that. I just hoped you would have the opportunity to enjoy being a kid for a while.”

  “Life has a funny way of messing things up.” I shrugged. “I’ve learned to deal with it and do my best to move on.”

  We ate a few more bites before she continued. “What if he dies?”

  “I can’t think about that,” I said, dropping my fork to my plate, my appetite vanishing immediately.

  “You need to be prepared, Portia. I know it’s awful, but there are only two ways this thing can go. Either he dies from not feeding, or you’ll feed him and he makes the change. Either way you’ll lose him!”

  “I don’t know what to do!” I shouted, standing and pushing away from the table. Placing my hands on both sides of my head, I squeezed hard, wishing the incessant pounding would stop. My brain felt like it was about to explode!

  My mom stood and came over to wrap her arms around me. “I’m sorry, precious. I don’t mean to be harsh. I just want you to be prepared, that’s all.”

  “Dad said you prayed for me at the church,” I said, pushing away from her.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied, searching my eyes.

  “Keep praying, Mom. I’m hoping for a miracle.”

/>   I left her there and headed back to the glass divider in the ritual room.

  He was still sleeping.

  Watching him was all I could do. No, that wasn’t true. Kneeling next to my cot, I took my own advice.

  “Please, God,” I prayed with all my heart. “Help us.” I stayed there for a long time, wishing for some sort of divine answer—something, anything, that would tell me what to do. But there was nothing. I heaved my tired body off the floor and crawled back onto the cot, quietly letting the tears fall as I cried myself to sleep once again.

  When I finally woke up, a quick glance at the clock led me to realize I’d slept through the entire night. Rolling over to check on Vance, I found him awake, huddled in the corner with his legs pulled up to his chest. His head was resting on his arms, which were propped on top of his knees, and he was shaking violently. I hurried to his corner, sliding down the wall until I was settled next to him.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, placing my hand on the glass.

  He didn’t acknowledge me at all.

  I stayed there quietly for several minutes, not knowing what to say.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked, instantly regretting it, because I knew what he wanted me to do.

  He raised his face to me this time, and I was surprised to see tears streaming down his face, his red eyes glowing with a cynical look.

  “Vance. Please try to understand,” I begged him.

  He let his head drop back down.

  “I love you more than anything. If giving you my blood would cure you, I would happily do it. It’ll only make things worse, though.”

  He didn’t answer.

  We stayed like this for hours without speaking while he shook uncontrollably. I was beginning to think we were going to sit this way forever, neither of us willing to bend to what the other needed.

  When he finally moved, it was to crawl slowly to the bed. I watched him in horror. I hadn’t realized how weak he’d actually become. As it was, he didn’t even get into the bed, instead reaching up to grab the thin blanket there and pull it over himself.

  “Vance. Talk to me please,” I begged. “Don’t shut me out. I don’t know what to do.”

  “There’s only one thing you can do, Portia, and you aren’t willing to do it,” he said, not making eye contact, his voice shaking. “It doesn’t matter anymore anyway.”

  “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” I said, slapping the glass hard to get his attention.

  He slowly turned his gaze toward me, staring with half-lidded red eyes as if he were too tired to keep them open. Huge gray circles gave them a sunken look.

  “I wasn’t lying to you. I’m dying.” His voice was a whisper, and I strained to hear.

  I believed him. Even though my head told me not to, my heart knew he wouldn’t lie about this, and the pain was excruciating.

  “I’m sorry. I want to help. I just don’t know how.” Tears began slipping over the rims of my eyes.

  “It’s too late for apologies,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

  “What do you mean, it’s too late?” I shouted, slapping the glass again to get his attention. “Answer me, dang it!”

  “I mean my time is running out. I won’t be able to hang on much longer.”

  I felt like I was going to vomit and scrambled to my feet, turning and running out of the room and up the stairs.

  “He says he’s dying!” I blurted out, huffing into the kitchen, where my dad and grandma were sitting at the table. “Help him, please!” I pleaded.

  The two of them exchanged a knowing glance, before my dad stood.

  “Portia, sweetheart,” he said, coming to wrap his arms around me. “We’ve been researching everything we can get our hands on. There’s just nothing else we can find to do.”

  “So, you’re just going to let him die?” I yelled, shoving my dad away and staring at both of them.

  “We expected it would happen,” Grandma explained, with pity in her eyes. “We just hoped for some sort of a miracle.”

  “No!” I shouted at both of them.

  “Portia, honey, let’s try to let him go as peacefully as possible, okay? He doesn’t need any more heartache than he’s already having,” my dad said softly. “Give him some dignity.”

  “You want me to sit here and let him die? Let him die while he thinks we’re the ones doing this to him? I can’t let that happen.” I ran back downstairs.

  “Portia! Come back here!” my dad called after me.

  I didn’t stop until I was standing outside the glass looking at Vance. I watched for only a brief second before I knew what I had to do. Placing my hands firmly on the force field, I pressed as hard as I could, letting my magic flow into it.

  A hole began to melt in the partition, widening until it was large enough to step through. I entered the chamber and quickly reinforced the field from the inside, sealing myself into the small cell.

  Kneeling over Vance, I shook him brusquely. “Vance! Wake up, please!” I called out, just as Grandma and Dad entered the room.

  “Portia! What’re you doing?” Grandma cried in alarm as my dad raced to the glass.

  “Don’t try to stop me!” I shook Vance again.

  “Take the barrier down now!” my dad yelled to Grandma, and they both leaned against it, pushing with their magic.

  I knew I didn’t have much time.

  “Vance! Wake up!” I shouted, slapping him hard across the face.

  He groaned and opened his demon-colored eyes, and I glanced up to see a significant-sized hole melted in the glass.

  “Hurry!” I pleaded. “We don’t have much time!”

  Lifting him into a sitting position, I moved my hair out of the way and cradled him against me, pushing him toward my neck.

  “Portia! Stop!” my dad yelled, his face a mask of despair.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” I apologized, right as Vance bit hard into my neck.

  I stiffened, crying out in pain as my blood began to flow freely into him. At first he just swallowed what poured into his mouth, but I could tell when he suddenly became stronger, because he started sucking harder against me. I shook and slowly began sinking as my strength depleting. He moved then, grappling to change positions without removing his mouth, so he was now holding me in his arms.

  My eyes watched the horrified looks that passed over my dad and Grandma’s faces. They finally breached the barrier and came rushing inside, but Vance raised a hand, and a force field shot out around us. He continued to feed, drinking heavily, not letting them get any closer.

  “It’s too late, Sean,” I heard Grandma say, and she grabbed my dad, pulling him back toward the opening. “We need to seal them both in and see what happens. We can’t let them out.”

  She had to drag him out as he kept hollering toward us, calling Vance all sorts of vile names and cursing the day he’d allowed him anywhere near his daughter. He helped Grandma repair the cell wall, and when they were done, Vance dropped the shield around the two of us.

  He ravaged me now with a hunger I didn’t think he would ever be able to stop, gulping my blood down with relish. I felt so weak and tired. My mind started to feel hazy, and I knew I needed to speak to him before it was too late.

  “I love you,” I said, with great effort. “More than anything, please remember that.”

  He released my neck suddenly and stared at me. His eyes were flaming now, his blood raced through his veins filled with the strength of my powers. He was strong again, I could feel it.

  “Don’t leave me,” he said, holding me tenderly as he shifted me in his grasp, and I flopped like a rag doll.

  “I’m too weak.” I tried to keep my eyes open, so I could look at him as long as possible.

  “It’ll get better, I promise. Your blood will regenerate, and you’ll feel better.”

  “And then what? You and I will feed off each other until we’re both demons?”

  “As long as we’re together, that’s all tha
t matters,” he said, his view distorted once again.

  “I won’t live like that, Vance. I let you drink from me, but I won’t drink from you. I won’t make the change,” I said sadly.

  “You’d rather me make the change while you die and leave me here alone, after all you just did to save my life?” Confusion flickered in his eyes.

  My heart hurt, and I felt like I was on the brink of falling into an abyss. “I’m sorry. It was the only thing I could do to save you. I needed to give them more time to find a cure for you.”

  “I won’t let you leave me,” he said forcefully, the alpha male in him demanding my compliance. “I’ll force you to drink if I have to.”

  I didn’t answer, instead closing my eyes in exhaustion.

  “Portia! Don’t you dare sleep now!” he yelled, shaking me roughly.

  I opened my eyes and looked into his.

  “Listen to me, baby.” He stroked his hand through my hair, rocking me in his arms. “It won’t be that bad. We can both make the change. We’ll be together, in every way. We can make love, just as we always wanted to. We’ll be strong and powerful. You’ll see. Please, baby, see what I’m saying.”

  He dropped his mouth to my lips, kissing me hard and desperately, trying to stimulate a response, but I was too tired.

  “I want to be with you, Portia. I want to make you mine in every sense of the word,” he whispered into my hair. “Come on, baby, today could be our day.”

  He shook me hard again when I didn’t respond.

  “Do you hear me, Portia?” he yelled. “Do you hear what I’m asking you to do?”

  His stare bore into mine, and I knew what my answer had to be.

  Lethargically, I lifted both my hands, placing them gently on either side of the face I loved so much and slowly began to speak.

  “Vance Mangum, Blessed Be.

  I give now, my heart to thee.

  My soul is yours to bind and take,

  My love for you will never shake.

  As the words to our binding ritual filled the air, a white light began to emanate from my hands.

  I promise to always keep you pure,

  And never into evil lure.

  The light grew until it completely encased Vance and then spread over me. I could feel him shaking violently.

  Let Heaven be our destiny,

  I love you Vance, So Mote It Be.”

  When I was done reciting the words, I let my hands fall away and finally slipped into unconsciousness.