Mages used rooms spelled to prevent sound from carrying, but an entire castle of no noise? Maybe this mage was more powerful than the others. Maybe he was finally getting to the one in charge.
Jael crept down the stairs to the next floor and peered into the first room he came to. It was some sort of study. He stepped into the room, but spun back around as the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard rose in song somewhere further down the hall. He reached over his shoulders for his swords.
A witch had spelled the medallions in the hilts of his swords with protections as thanks for his rescue of her, but in spite of that he was drawn towards the voice. This was no mage magic, then. Another witch who needed help?
He followed the voice. He didn’t understand the words. They were in a language he’d never heard before, but the melody called to him, luring him closer.
Jael walked down the corridor in a trance and turned into a bedroom. Here, heavy curtains covered the windows, and a beautiful woman wearing a long-sleeved, low-cut, simple gown stood in the center of the room, swaying to her song. Her waist-length bronze colored hair whirled around her when she turned to face him. Tall and slender —
One second she was across the room, the next right in front of him. He hadn’t seen her move.
“Are you a Djinn?” Zax warned him about Djinn who could sing.
She stopped singing and hummed instead as she looped her arms about his neck. His hands itched to drop his swords, but he held on to them as he closed his arms around her smaller frame.
“Who are you?”
She spoke words in his head as her Orphic melody guided his feet, and they spun together around the room in a dance.
Do you want to protect me?
Confusion swamped his mind, but in that moment one need overrode everything else. “More than anything.”
Do you want to stay with me forever?
Jael did. “Yes.”
Will you love me, always?
The question jarred him out of his trance. He shook his head to try and clear it. His daughter. He loved her. He had to avenge her and Faba. “I... I can’t.”
The woman’s purple eyes turned black and her face morphed into that of a monster before she buried her fangs in his throat.
Not a Djinn, then.
Time passed, but he wasn’t sure how long it had been. Jael was tired, his body drained of all energy. He fought to open his eyes, but couldn’t.
“You can’t just keep eating them when they don’t fall in love with you!” a man yelled.
“Why not?” a female voice retorted. Her voice, abrasive now, scraped his mind. “He was coming to kill us. You saw his swords. I was protecting us!”
“Peace between us,” a second male voice said. “He wakes.”
The first man scoffed. “For all the good it will do him.”
“We will speak with him. The choice will be his. It’s all we can offer him now,” the second man replied.
Jael closed his fists, wanting to feel the comfort of his swords, but they were no longer in his hands. Panic opened his eyes. He was still in the bedroom, but on his back in the bed.
The singing woman was diminutive in between two men. They all had similar faces. One man had silver hair and green eyes, the other gold hair and blue eyes. The purple-eyed woman growing fangs and her eyes turning black was the last thing he remembered.
Since he’d started his battle with mages, he’d encountered people who shifted into animals, djinn, and all sorts of witches. He hadn’t come across these before, but he’d heard of them. “Vampires.”
“Close enough. You’re going to feel weak. I’m Riordan,” the gold-haired man said. “This is my brother Tazraus, and you’ve met our sister Requiescere. Why have you invaded our home?”
“Came to... kill mages...” Jael rasped. He was so thirsty. He felt withered.
“Did you?” Tazraus arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, you won’t find any mages here.”
“Want to kill... all... the mages...” Jael’s heart faltered, and he gasped.
“Time is short,” Riordan said. “You won’t live through this either way, but you can die and go to your afterlife, or you can turn and rise again. If you become like us, you will never again look on the sun and you will have to feed on blood to sustain yourself. But mages are no friends of ours. You could kill them until you lose your head or your heart. Death or turning are your choices.”
In the end, it wasn’t a hard decision. He’d become an assassin and sworn to kill mages. He would gladly trade the sun for more time to wipe them from the face of the earth.
“Turn me,” Jael said, “and I will vow to protect you. Your enemies become mine.”
Requiescere seemed to float across the floor. “I want to do it! Tazraus stole my turn last time!”
“Don’t be mad, Req.” Tazraus smiled. “If I hadn’t acted, Ciaran would be dead. You like him.”
Requiescere whirled on her brother. “But he doesn’t love me! No one has loved me in almost four thousand years.”
Tazraus put a hand on his sister’s shoulder and softened his tone from teasing to empathetic. “You can’t make them love you, Req. None of us can.”
She shrugged his hand off. “What do you care, Taz? You have your nzumbi and your dragon and your nymph!”
“Peace.” Riordan stepped between his siblings. “The mortal doesn’t have much time. If you want to turn him, do it now, Requiescere.”
Requiescere beamed and climbed onto the bed with Jael. Straddling him, she fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him to a sitting position. She used a sharp fingernail to slice a line into the skin of her throat. Rich, deep red blood welled up from the cut.
He licked his lips, thirst overwhelming all else. As Jael lowered his head to drink her blood, he had a fleeting thought about what story the Old Man of the Mountain would tell about becoming a monster to fight monsters.
JAEL WAITED IN THE shadows. So much easier to hunt as a vampire. Body stronger, reflexes faster, hearing, eyesight and sense of smell sharper. Emotions off. He’d had to give up ingesting anything other than blood, including apple tea, but it turned out revenge tasted just as sweet. His heart no longer beat, but anticipation pounded through him.
Bashaa entered the room, turned the key in the lock, and set a candle on a wooden table.
The small circle of light illuminated enough for his prey to see Jael when he leaned forward. “Dacia is nice this time of year. The atmosphere has a nice... bite to it.”
The man jerked back. “Wait! I can tell you whatever you want to know!”
Jael laughed and unsheathed his swords. “This time I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You can deliver a message for me, though, and you don’t need to say a single word.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
VIKTORIA
VIKTORIA PARKED ON the principal shopping street and pushed the button to raise the top of her convertible as she willed the annoying buzzing in her head to go away. There were big malls in the city, but for some things, she preferred the smaller, more old-fashioned stores.
Memory remained quiet about what she’d done, and it wasn’t worth the argument. The more attention Viktoria gave the memory itching at her consciousness, the faster it would emerge. If she ignored the magic, it would fade — always present but buried, maybe never to be remembered. Let Memory squirm. It drove her crazy when people ignored her magic.
Her sister could force the issue and make Viktoria remember, but that required a lot of magic and might leave both of them incapacitated. Memory wouldn’t risk that.
“Why are we at this place?” Dream leaned forward to squint into the display window full of touristy swag.
“It’s a gift shop. I need to drop off some things. If you want to look at cell phones and gadgets, you can go there.” Viktoria pointed at the electronics store two doors down. “Pick out whatever you like, and I’ll meet you in a few minutes to pay.”
“Be
st, best day ever!” Dream kissed Viktoria’s cheek, slid out of the car, and tugged her skirt down.
“Thank you, Shadow. I won’t forget this!” Memory hugged Viktoria from the backseat and joined Dream to enter the shop.
Viktoria opened the trunk, retrieved two shopping totes, and pushed into Enchanted Gifts. A bell tinkled cheerily as the door opened, causing a matronly woman wearing a hideous Christmas red and green sweater to look up from the counter. She offered a grin as she bustled past the t-shirts, mugs, magnets, spoons, and caps arrayed on racks and shelves to lock up, flip the sign to closed, and tilt her head to a different door.
The kitschy tourist shop served as a front for the true store, run by a coven of witches.
“Hello Martelle. You look well.” Viktoria carried her bags toward the back of the store.
The woman shook her head vigorously, sending her neat, grey pageboy haircut into disarray. “I am not Martelle anymore. I am free of that nonsense and politicking after half a century. You call me Razi, like you did when I was a girl and you were the older woman. Tabitha leads the coven now.” Razi jerked a thumb at the back wall. “She’s meeting with some of the others.”
Viktoria halted. “Should I come back? I don’t want to intrude.”
“Absolutely not. She’ll be glad for the break. I can’t wait to see what you brought us this time. And just in time for Christmas.”
Witches could do a lot of things with their magic, but they were not goddesses, after all. On the other hand, goddesses usually specialized, where witches were more versatile. The coven loved getting their hands on whatever Viktoria brought them and paid well.
“I’m preparing refreshments. Coffee, tea, or juice for you?”
“Nothing for me, thank you. It’s just a quick visit today.” Who knew what her sisters would get up to if left unsupervised for too long. Viktoria opened the Staff Only door, pausing as Tabitha’s voice carried in frustration.
“I’m over the damn vampire and his stupid club. I thought an alliance would work. They don’t want one. We can find other allies, and have bigger problems. Witches are missing.”
Had everyone known vampires lived in Port Storm except for Viktoria? What else went on beneath her nose? And witches missing? Because of mages? Should she say something? Witches tended not to advertise their problems. No Other Worlders did, really. No one wanted to be seen as weak or at a disadvantage.
“Our coven is the biggest in half the country. Members come and go.”
“Not this many in so short a time. We need —”
“Hold that door, please, Viktoria!” Razi called.
The argument cut off as Viktoria stood aside to let Tabitha’s mother carry a tray of cookies and a pitcher of cider. She led the way through the much larger shop. Rows of shelves held books and tools of the magic trade — cauldrons, dolls, amulets, crystals and pre-made elixirs. Behind a long counter, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling shelves contained jars of spices, leaves, powders, and liquids. The shop always smelled of herbs and incense, the scents carried on remnants of magic that tingled on Viktoria’s skin.
They entered the room usually used for client consultations. What seemed like an entire coven of witches crowded around a circular table, some haggard, others immaculate.
Tabitha, definitely one of the haggard witches, jumped to her feet and zipped around the table. Her white blouse and grey skirt were wrinkled, like she’d slept in them. Or tried to. Lines of strain marred her golden-toned skin, and dark circles smudged under her chestnut-colored eyes gave her an exhausted demeanor. “Viktoria!” She gave Viktoria a hug and whispered, “Save me.” Taking Viktoria’s hand, Tabitha led the way to the long counter. “Be right back!”
“I don’t know how my mom led the coven all those years. I’m tempted to give the job back to her.”
“I don’t think she wants it, darling. She seems happy to me.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Tabitha braced her hands on the counter. “Anyway, show me what you’ve got.”
Viktoria unpacked her loot. “Something for everyone. Spells, potions, and amulets for light, dark, luck, weather, dreams, remembering, healing, tides, flowers, animals, clothes, snow, and shadow.” All things her sisters had washed up on the beach or sent on rainbows that ended in the forest around her house, except for her shadow magic.
“We’ll take it all. The usual prices?” At Viktoria’s nod, Tabitha swept the stash away, replacing it with a pile of cash, gems, and gold. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
“Likewise, darling.”
“I really should have taken longer to do this,” Tabitha murmured. “Now I’ve got to go argue with them again, and I’d much rather negotiate with you.”
“I’m sure you can get everything sorted out.”
Only in her twenties, Tabitha was young to be leading a coven, but the magic she wielded crackled around her. As Viktoria packed the payment in her shopping bags, Tabitha tugged her brown hair behind one ear, and raised tired eyes. She put a hand over Viktoria’s “You always bring the strongest magic we’ve ever felt, and we can’t duplicate it exactly, no matter how we try. Do you have anything for tracking?”
One witch in the other room gasped.
“What do you need to track?”
“People.”
“Tabitha!”
“What?” Tabitha whirled toward the consultation room. “It’s not like Viktoria doesn’t know we’re witches, is it? We can trust her. Witches. Are. Missing. This isn’t a matter of them leaving to go to other covens. In fact, other covens are missing members too! This isn’t a localized problem. We need help.”
“We take steps so we can’t be tracked or watched, anyway.”
“If something happened to them, we could save their lives!” Tabitha’s tone suggested she had reached the end of her patience.
“We don’t want to be spied on! I know you’re new to leading a coven, but you need to respect the privacy of other witches.”
“It has nothing to do with being new to leading. The whole point of the meeting today was to talk about missing witches! Why do you insist on this pretense that there’s not a problem?”
Viktoria cut through the argument. With twelve sisters, that was a survival skill. “Ladies!” She waited until they quieted. “I’ll just say I do know something about tracking and leave it at that. If you want my help, I’m available. Otherwise, I never heard anything today.”
Although, she mentally added the question of other missing witches to the list of things to interrogate Thomax about as she headed to the front of the store.
“Thanks, Viktoria.” Tabitha sighed and trudged back into the consultation room.
Razi hurried after Viktoria and unlocked the front door. “I’m sure Tabitha will be calling you. Witches are just nervous about someone being able to find them.”
“I can’t find random people when I want to. I’d need to go somewhere whoever you’re looking for is familiar with to get a feel for the people you need to find.”
“I’ll tell them. That will make them feel better about things.”
“Be careful.” Viktoria had to say something in case what she knew saved someone. “Coven witches aren’t the only ones I’ve heard about going missing. A few precautions couldn’t hurt.”
“Thanks, Viktoria.”
On the sidewalk, she peered in the window of the electronics store. Dream wore virtual reality goggles and waved her hands in front of her while Memory paid rapt attention to the saleswoman demonstrating something on a tablet. With a couple of minutes to spare, Viktoria went a few stores down and opened the door to Leaf It With Me.
Cash went into the bank or a safe in her home, but the rest of her earnings came here. The store ostensibly sold seeds and potted plants, but for a few Other Worlders, it was a place to grow their fortunes.
The earthy smell of soil and green things greeted her. Soft piano music played from overhead speakers, accompanied by burbling water. Warm light illuminated the sh
op, showing spinning racks displaying packets of seeds lining the wall to left. Low tables displayed potted plants interspersed with fountains. The white sand floor, dotted with stepping stones, was raked in neat lines and curves.
A painting of an enormous cherry tree, black branches covered in glorious pink blossom spanned the rear wall, twenty feet high, the branches spreading twenty-five feet wide. At least, it looked like a painting.
“Hi, Viktoria!” A teenage boy tossed his black braid over one shoulder and glanced up from where he was caring for some bonsai trees.
“Hi, Shozo. Your parents finally conscripted you into the family business, have they?”
“It’s not so bad. Except for when I get too close to him.” He jerked his chin toward the cherry tree painting.
“I can imagine.” Viktoria laughed.
“Good luck,” Shozo called. “He’s in a mood today.”
“When is he not?” Viktoria muttered as she moved to the back of the store. “You’d think after I went to all the trouble of painting him in shadows, he’d give me a break. I suppose he’s just doing his job, though. No better security than him.”
Shozo chuckled. “I’ll just be here with the bonsai where its safe.”
Viktoria sighed and stood in front of the trunk, one arm extended. “You know me. Don’t be difficult about it.”
A black branch lifted from the camouflage of the painting and formed a small, sharp tube. The jubokku jabbed its needle-like appendage into her arm and sampled her blood. Recognizing her, the door opened in his trunk and Viktoria walked through. “Thank you, darling.”
The blood-sucking tree closed that door and opened one on the opposite side.
Viktoria stepped out into a grove of tall trees — ash, cedar, oak, apple, walnut, and a few special ones — each placed under the care of a personal tree spirit or dryad.
Viktoria's Shadow: Jael Page 13