Stolen Secret

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Stolen Secret Page 12

by Emily Kimelman Gilvey


  “The Sword of Ultimate Power,” Tyronios whispered. He gripped the hilt with both hands, his eyes wide and glowing, as if a new light burned in him.

  “Be careful with that,” I warned him.

  He flicked his gaze to me and nodded. I watched him for a moment longer before turning my focus to Ophelia. She stepped back, her jaw set. “You’re gonna fight me, even with those chains on?”

  “Ironic that Mother should choose to punish me and therefore make it easier for you to get what you need.”

  “Maybe she is secretly on my side. She was once fond of humans.”

  “She liked the idea of them. She never enjoyed the reality.”

  “Even before they started destroying the earth?” I asked, approaching her slowly.

  Ophelia didn’t answer. The magic protecting the compound shuddered, and I glanced at Tyronios. His eyes were closed, the sword tip resting on the floor now. “Her shifter bird is trying to break through.”

  “He can feel my distress,” Ophelia said.

  She didn’t look distressed. “If you give me your blood, you can go on your way. Return to your snowy mountain.”

  Ophelia sneered—gosh she was good at that. “I will never be free again.” She held up her arms. “These are permanent.”

  The cuffs hung loose on her wrists. I could feel that they were depleting her chi—almost like they got their power from her. I ran my energy over the intricate carvings.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Hold on.”

  Ophelia’s power created the grooves—as a river carves stone to form a canyon. Magic in the shackles forced the wearer’s energy to sculpt the pathways. The longer they were worn, the stronger they would become.

  “Interesting,” I said.

  “What?” Ophelia took another step back.

  “The chains, the way the magic works. It’s brilliant. Who made them?”

  “I don’t know,” Ophelia sounded exasperated. “Who cares?”

  I met her gaze. “I guess you’re right. It doesn’t matter. But I bet I could figure out how to break them. First, give me your blood.”

  She shook her head. I sighed. I needed a shower and a comfortable bed. Maybe a down comforter to climb under.

  “Look, you want me to end you. That’s what you said. I will. Okay, I’ll do it.”

  She straightened and nodded.

  I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. WTF? “You’ll let me kill you but won’t give me your blood.”

  “She must be alive when you take the blood,” Tyronios warned.

  “I know that.”

  Ophelia smirked.

  “I’m going to take your blood, and then I’ll let you rot in those damn chains.”

  I started toward her, and she stumbled back, turning on her heel and running across the room. Seriously. Fine.

  Reaching out my chi, I wrapped her up. She struggled, thrashing against the cords of power that dragged her toward me. “Stay still,” I commanded as I brought her within reach.

  Her eyes burned with menace. I sliced her forearm, catching the blood with my chi. “Where should I put this?” I asked Tyronios.

  He didn’t answer. I glanced back at him. The old man stared at the sword like it was a beautiful naked woman, and he a twelve-year-old boy. Great.

  “Tyronios!” I yelled. He didn’t flinch.

  “It has bespelled him,” Ophelia said with a laugh. Awesomesauce, another spell to break. Just what I needed.

  I went to turn back to Ophelia, and she lashed out, the chains catching me in the chin and throwing me backward. I landed on my ass, my jaw snapping shut so that I bit my tongue. “Ow!”

  Ophelia leapt onto me, wrapping the chains around my neck, her face inches from mine. I found her light and grabbed it with my chi as she cut off my air supply.

  I could sit at the bottom of the ocean and be fine. Sounded more fun than getting strangled.

  Meeting Ophelia’s gaze, I held her light, prepared to yank it free and end her as she asked. “Do it,” she panted. “Kill me.”

  No. What if I needed more blood? What if we were wrong about the spell and needed more information from her? I released her light, and she screamed, tightening her grip on the chains.

  Using my power, I took control of her body and released her hands. The chains fell around my shoulders. I unraveled them from myself and stood, turning to Tyronios. He still stood staring at the sword.

  Crossing to him, I took it from his hands. He looked up at me, his eyes cloudy with confusion. “Tyronios?”

  He wasn’t there anymore. The sword stole his mind.

  Footsteps coming down the stairs drew my attention to the doorway. Balthazar, a young, powerful warlock I’d met several times, entered the room. His gaze took in Tyronios, swaying, a blank expression on his face, and Ophelia held in my power, her blood cocooned in midair.

  “I could use a little help.” I smiled at him.

  His eyes dropped to the sword in my hand. “The Sword of Ultimate Power,” he said.

  I put it behind my back to shield him from it. “Don’t look at it,” I said. “It seems to have sucked Tyronios’s mind away.”

  Balthazar focused on his elder, his eyes narrowing. “This is not good.” He crossed toward one of the hutches that lined the wall and started gathering supplies. “I must move quickly to recreate a counterspell.”

  “Good, you do that. You wouldn’t happen to have a…” I cleared my throat. “Prison cell of some kind, would you?”

  “Down the hall to the right.” He gestured toward the door. “It’s rated for werewolves.”

  I glanced at my sister, she hung limp in my chi, the chains leaching her power away.

  “Great, I’ll just lock her in there, and then I’m going to catch some sleep.”

  Balthazar turned to me. “Sleep?”

  “Yes, I’m exhausted. I don’t actually know when I last slept. Time is… not what it seems sometimes, ya know?”

  He cocked his head. I guess not.

  I started walking toward the door, trailing Ophelia after me. “Wait,” Balthazar called after me. “What about the blood?”

  “Right.” I snapped my finger. “I knew there was something I was forgetting. Do you have a jar or bottle I could use for that.”

  Balthazar moved to a different hutch and pulled out a clean vial. I moved the blood through the air and poured it into the glass. He corked it.

  “You work on…” I jerked my chin to Tyronios. “I’ll get this one locked up, and then I’m going to grab a nap.”

  “A nap?”

  “Yeah, man, even immortal, soul-stealing succubi need to sleep.”

  He didn’t respond. Shocker.

  I stood under the pounding water until it ran cold. Then I climbed into the comfortable bed and pulled the covers over my head, falling into a deep sleep.

  The man from my dreams waited for me… shirtless on a fur rug in front of a fire. “This is a bit much, don’t you think?” I asked, gesturing to the scene.

  He grinned, dimples popping. He had on worn denim jeans, and the tattoo on his belly seemed to move on its own as he sat up, holding his hand out toward me. “Come,” he said, “join me.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me.”

  I’m not admitting that out loud. “No, I’m engaged.” I held up my hand, showing off the ring.

  His eyes darkened, and the fire in the hearth sputtered. “You don’t know Emmanuel well enough to promise to be his bride for eternity.”

  “I don’t even know your name, so I don’t think you can tell me what I do and do not know.” I put my hands on my hips, meeting soft silk. I glanced down at myself. I wore a green silk camisole that hit midthigh.

  “Whose dream is this?” I asked. “I did not pick this outfit. I am not a silk kind of girl.” My life is way too messy for silk. Even in my dreams.

>   Dream Guy stood up in one fluid motion. I swallowed, forcing my eyes to stay on his face. He moved slowly toward me, stalking me.

  “It’s just a dream, Darling. You can’t betray your boyfriend in a dream.”

  “Fiancé.”

  He stopped in front of me and ran a finger along my shoulder, knocking off one of the straps of the camisole. His touch raised goose bumps, and I struggled not to lean into him.

  “This is my dream, right?”

  He nodded, his eyes on my shoulder, watching his fingers as they slid down my arm, chasing the strap.

  I backed up a step. “Then I want you to explain who you are and what you’re doing here.”

  He shook his head. “No can do, babe. I can’t give you any information you don’t already have.”

  “Wake up!” Megan’s voice reached into my dream and dragged me out.

  I blinked my eyes open and found her sitting on the side of the bed, shaking me. “What?” I grumbled, turning over and pulling the covers over my head.

  “You need to get up!” She yanked the covers off. “Ophelia escaped, and there is an ancient vampire named Senil who blasted through the dimensional portal and says if you don’t come talk to her she is going to kill Balthazar.”

  “Senil is here?” I sat up, my heart racing.

  “Yes! And she is about to go on a killing spree. Move your butt!”

  No rest for the weary, I guess.

  Chapter Eleven

  I pulled on clean clothing from my pack and followed Megan downstairs, carrying the Sword of Ultimate Power—because how could that not come in handy, right? “Senil has locked herself in the ritual room with Balthazar,” Megan explained.

  Tyronios waited at the bottom of the steps with several other warlocks, Dimitri, and Issa. “Hey.” I touched Dimitri’s arm with my free hand, giving him a small squeeze.

  “You hunger,” he said, bringing my hand to his mouth and brushing a kiss across my knuckles. Energy flowed to me.

  “There is no time,” Tyronios said.

  I turned to him. “Good to see you back among the functioning.”

  His cheeks brightened. The old man was ashamed he’d lost his cool, and his mind, over my sword. “Yes, I am well, thanks to Balthazar. But he is in grave danger now.”

  “Got it. You’ll have to tell me what’s so special about this thing later.” I knocked on the closed door. “It’s me,” I called.

  “Thing?” Tyronios shook his head in wonder at my referring to the Sword of Ultimate Power as a thing.

  The door swung open. I stepped into velvety darkness scented of incense and inter-dimensional travel—a tang on the air like touching my tongue to a battery. The door shut behind me. “Evening,” I called, forming my chi into a ball of light.

  Senil stood at the center of the inter-dimensional portal, Balthazar at her feet. His chi glowed weakly while hers burned bright. Senil grinned at me, her lips bloodstained. Short and petite with golden blonde hair, the ancient vampire must have been a teenager when turned.

  She had mismatched eyes like Megan. The cool blue of a vampire and the milk chocolate brown of her humanity. Having a long relationship with my mother apparently brought the life back into her. Hard to tell as she licked the blood off her lips.

  The long, dark cape draping off Senil’s shoulders and ending just above the floor looked like it was made for her. Very vampire.

  “Nice to see you,” she said.

  “Wish I could say the same.” I shrugged. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came for you.”

  I smiled. “I’m not the same naive girl you met before, Senil. I’ve learned some tricks.” Spanning my chi out, I played against hers, not attacking, just letting her get a taste of my power. Even this depleted, I could still defeat her.

  She smiled. “You are hungry.”

  “Starving.” I might get myself a little ancient vampire right here, right now. I started to cross the room toward her, and Senil’s smile widened. That isn’t suspicious at all, right?

  I stopped before stepping onto the grooves in the floor marking the inter-dimensional portal. “Come to me,” I said, drawing her forward with my chi.

  She did not struggle, but neither did her eyes haze. “You look like her,” Senil said.

  “Who, my mom?” Wow, was I sick of that observation.

  “No,” she said, just inches from me. “Your sister.”

  Oh crap.

  The tinkle of chains, and I turned too late. The dark metal bonds of eternity looped over my shoulders, locking my arms at my sides and latching onto my power, directing it into the bonds. “Hey, sis,” Ophelia said in my ear, her body pressed close to my back.

  I still gripped the feather sword, but my fingers were going numb. Don’t drop it!

  I lunged forward, dragging Ophelia with me. Crashing my lips into Senil, I inhaled a deep breath of power before the portal opened, and we spiraled into the void….

  When I reformed, I still held the sword but the chains were now locked around my wrists. How did Ophelia do that? Was her captivity and requests for death all an act to get me into this trap?

  I stood on a mountaintop, the moon low… daytime approached.

  A breeze carrying the sticky sweet scent of wood sap picked up my hair and twirled it around me. I gripped the sword with both hands, scanning the sandy plateau. The distant hillsides were covered in trees but not here.

  Did zombies lurk beneath my feet? Kicking at the sand, I uncovered a groove. I stood on an inter-dimensional portal.

  A tugging sensation at my back made me turn. Senil materialized close. She launched herself at me. I threw up an arm and her teeth ripped into my flesh.

  That hurt!

  I stumbled backward, blood seeping down my arm and dripping into the sand. Senil spit a chunk of my flesh onto the ground at her feet. Gross.

  The chain’s weight grew, trying to drag me to the ground. I struggled to lift the sword in front of me. Come at me again, bitch. I will cut you.

  “Did you ever wonder about the wolves that killed your father—that tried to kill you?” I didn’t respond. Thigh-high leather boots slipped past the folds of Senil’s cape as she circled me. I held the sword with both hands, my arms shaking. “You’ve never seen any other animals affected by the zombies.”

  “I’ve seen the green in animal’s eyes before,” I countered.

  “Yes, but not the rotting, living dead.”

  Senil stalked, and I shuffled in a circle, the chains on my wrists jangling, as we followed the path of the portal, spiraling toward its center.

  She bent down where my blood wet the earth and touched the droplets, bringing red-stained fingers to her mouth. She maintained eye contact as her tongue came out and lapped at the blood. “Still warm.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “Delicious.”

  Yuck.

  When Senil’s gaze met mine again, her icy blue iris was ringed with brown. “Your mother shared her blood with me. Her power.”

  “Well, I’m not my mother.”

  Senil frowned. “Aren’t you?”

  “Nope.”

  “So…” She grinned, showing fang. “You cannot access the memories of your ancestors.”

  I didn’t answer, struggling to keep my breath even. If that was possible, then the answers were all inside me. Wouldn’t that just take the cake? If I could remember my ancestors lives, I’d know for sure if we were involved and how to break the zombie spell.

  “You are young still,” Senil said, standing again. “Practically a child.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from responding. No words could help me now. Either Senil would drain me, leaving me here to atrophy for eternity under the weight of these chains, or I was going to use this feather sword to defend myself.

  The chains on my wrist and ankles stayed my power. I could not undo the shackles, but the diamond red center of me still throbbed. Even without the ability to expand it, I had power—nothing could truly end me but new li
fe.

  The moon dipped behind the distant mountains, and Senil blinked. The sun might save me.

  “No more time for games,” she said.

  “What about the wolves?” I asked, now playing for time.

  She focused on me again. “I had Charity send them.” Charity? My friend. Senil laughed. “She is a very powerful witch. And a shifter. She twisted the spell. We had to force your father to release you.”

  “How did she do it?” I asked, my voice even—impressive considering I was facing my father’s killer.

  “You’ll have to ask her. Oh, wait.” She frowned dramatically. “You’ll never make it off this mountaintop. And besides, Charity will die soon. She betrayed me. No one betrays me and survives.” Dramatic much?

  “You killed my father to get to me, and now you’re just going to drain me and leave me here?” I made it sound like she was wasting an opportunity. “Why not keep me as your prisoner? Enjoy me slowly. Why rush this thing? You’ve got me chained.”

  Senil shook her head. “I’ve learned my lesson. You are too powerful to have running around. Besides, Ophelia needs your essence to become you and convince Emmanuel to destroy humanity.”

  “Maybe if I access my mother’s memories, I’ll see why she loved you. Maybe I’ll love you too.”

  Senil stopped pacing, her body growing very still—that other worldly statue effect coming over her.

  “What a wonderful idea,” she finally said. “Go to Charity. She can help you.”

  “I can’t do much with these chains on.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “There is no witch strong enough to help you here.”

  “What a conundrum.”

  “Will you be able to find Charity?”

  “Depends on if you give me her address.” I gave her a toothy smile.

  Senil shook her head, sneering in disgust. “You have not even learned to travel to those you want to see?”

  I didn’t answer right away. I had found my way back to the Warlock Society, but I’d assumed that was because I’d wanted it so badly and had such strong connections with the beings there. But could I do it with anyone?

  “Can you travel to those you want to see?” I asked.

 

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