Blood Rite

by Sarah Black

  Not the concept of ones I didn’t even know existed.

  She squeezes my hand once. “I get it, and it’s okay. I know they are still alive. I can feel them, and I know you can as well.”

  “How do you know they tried to protect us?”

  “Joe, he pointed it out to me. We are lucky to have him.” She pauses, gripping my other hand and creating an electrical link between us that zings up and down my arms. “He sleeps in a small chair beside you. He growled at Valentino for a long time, as well as Alaric, over the blood oath. It was a battle you would have loved to watch.”

  I choke up as tears threaten to spill over my eyes. “He didn’t leave?” As a detective, his job always pulled him away, yet he always came back. Somedays with Pop-Tarts. Chocolate for me and strawberry for Pop. Candy and tampons during those horrid teen years. “Shit.”

  “Yeah. He hasn’t left, and he won’t until you wake.” She lets go of one hand, choosing to walk again. No pews line the church, just wide open space that goes on and on. “Mom and Dad, the ones who raised us, they never should have died. But we need to live to avenge them.”

  “At least we agree on that.”

  “Was there any question?” She shakes her head. “We’ve lost more than others, Penny, and I’m tired of losing. Within hours, both you and I faced attempted assassinations. Don’t mistake it for anything other than what it is. We shouldn’t exist, and someone else knows that. We are infants stepping into an ancient prophesy.”

  I dig my heels in. “Pardon?”

  “Not about us, about them. Do you know the ancient stories?”

  “Which ones?”

  “Look around you, Penny. What stories do you think?”

  “Impossible.” I shake my head vehemently. “I don’t believe—”

  “Yet they believe in you, Penny. You can’t stand in ignorance anymore. You are a blood witch who can destroy monsters and nightmares and their houses with but one thought.”

  “What of you?” Spirit is tricky, or so she always told me.

  “Souls, Penny. You see an empty room, and I see a full one.”

  I pause, glancing around. “There is nothing but an empty room.”

  “Exactly.” She lets go of my hand. “I brought you here for a reason, of blood and spirit. Together, we make up a whole. A whole that can destroy the reigning powers that be. In a world you didn’t know existed.”

  I run a hand down my face. “How do we fix this? How do I get back to curling up with my cat and watching reruns of Golden Girls?”

  “That damn cat.” She rolls her eyes. “We need to talk about Valentino.”

  “And Alaric.”

  “And Alaric.” Her smile is subtle as she begins to walk again. Her leathers making no sound. “Once upon a time, long, long ago, two brothers existed. One gained the blessings of his father. The other didn’t. Yet, as blood shed, they were both cursed. Victim and murderer. Two houses birthed. One of light and one of dark, yet held the same fate. Do you know who I’m talking about, Penny?”

  Behind my eyes, school uniforms of black and red and shoes of black and white flash in a haunting memory. Of walking in and kneeling, of atoning for our sins then listening to stories that were nothing more than untruths. “Cain and Abel.” My breath rushes out in whispered silence.

  “With the rising sun their power fades, yet in the moonlight they dominate the night.”

  “Oh, fucking hell.”

  “Watch it now, you don’t what him to hear you.” Her chuckle is disturbing on so many levels.

  “Demons?” I swallow.

  “Don’t be racist. They are delicious in their own right.” She licks her lips like a damn porn star.

  “Oh, Poppy, why would you even tell me that? Gah!” I need bleach for my eyeballs.

  Her giggle doesn’t last long, fading in the echoing cathedral. “You needed to know his origin story. He will try like hell to lie and manipulate you, it’s in his nature. You will see many of his faces and will struggle to find his true self. I know I do.”

  “Which brother?” I want to know which house he belongs to, light or dark.

  She hesitates for a brief moment. “Abel.”

  I release a rush of breath, not that it’s any better when it comes to vampires, but it’s something.

  “What of our ancestry? Where do we fit in this world? Besides tearing all of them apart.” For some reason that feels right. I don’t know what happened, but I know I doubt they have been treating humans well.

  “I have theories. All witches stem from Elenore. The witch of Endor.”

  “I didn’t think they knew her name.”

  “They don’t. I do.” She sounds far too smug about that tidbit. “Even so, there is little about her in the Bible. Which brings me to my next point.”

  She doesn’t have to say it. I can feel it with every single fiber of my being. Just as the cross finally gets closer, she slips away. Here but not. Drifting from my physical person, creating a gap that very well may leave a hole in my heart. “You’re leaving.”

  “I’m leaving.” She squeezes my hand once more. My palms grow sweaty as I feel my veins surge with fear and adrenaline.

  “Why?” My voice squeaks, even in this ethereal world she’s constructed.

  “I need to find her, Penny, she is the key to all of this. To us.”

  “What if she no longer exists? What if you are doing nothing but chasing ghosts while I stay and fight for us?”

  “That’s the thing, Penny. Even if I do nothing but chase ghosts, who best to chase them than the one who can see them?”

  I pause, realizing just what this place is. I glance at the floor below. At the vast space that I believe to be empty, but she insinuated wasn’t. “You can see the dead.” I knew it, and as the words leave my mouth, a rush of foolishness washes over me.

  “I can. I don’t have the strength in my magic like you yet.” A soft pang of envy laces her tone. “But, Penny, I’ve been fighting since Joe allowed it.”

  “Oh, he allowed you to fight?” I bump her shoulder, knowing good and well that he definitely allowed it. And that’s the only reason she fought. With Joe having her six, hell, both of us, we always felt invincible.

  Isn’t that what a real father does? Watches his kids grow, watches their backs. Always standing behind them as he sends them off into the world. And when we fell, there he was.

  “You need to train, you need to fight. You have no idea what crawls over this city at night. I’m passing the reins to you while I seek out our secrets.”

  Secrets I’d rather leave buried. “And Aja?”

  “Oh shit, we were supposed to go to Christian’s party.”

  “Mama will never forgive us.”

  “If you told Aja what you are, she’ll cover for you. Don’t worry about that. Alaric knows.” He scuffs her foot on the marble, her black boot drawing a long mark. “I didn’t want him to know.”

  “He’s following you, isn’t he?”

  “He isn’t house head. Valentino is. The only tie he has here is looking after what Val tells him to. He’s bored.”

  “So, you two are off to chase a ghost,” I scoff, already feeling broken by her distance.

  “It isn’t safe for both of us to stay in the same place. Apart, they will have a harder time finding us.”

  “And who is trying to find us, Pop? Because I’d like to know who has a hit out on my head.”

  “Hmm.” She taps her chin with a hot pink fingernail. “I never thought of that. It does feel like a hit, doesn’t it?”

  “Dammit, Poppy, tell me who it is.”

  “I suspect Cain’s clan.” Sorrow fills her voice. “I can’t take them on. I’m far too weak. But I have faith that you just might be able to.”

  “I’m not strong, Poppy.” I pull my hand away from her, the distance cracking me wide open. The scars begin to bleed and ooze. But only in my mind. Nothing gushes from flesh that exists in the mind. It’s just a thought. A feeling.


  “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Her hands grip my face, her eyes boring into mine with the power of a goddess. “You, my darling sister, hold all the power of a thousand souls that shine through you so damn brightly it hurts to look at you.” Her palm rests over my heart. “In here. I see you. I see the woman you are meant to be, and that woman needs her moment to shine. Not a little sister watching her every step.”

  Tears blur my vision. One of my hands clasps her head while the other falls to her heart. I draw her forehead down to mine, my eyes closing as the tears spill over in fat drops.

  “You will always be my guiding light. Without you, I’d stumble, I’d fall, and yet I know I will find my stride in the darkness. You are my light.”

  “You are my dark.” Tears fall onto my arm in burning, acidic drops. “Remember, there is nothing in the dark that doesn’t exist in the light, because you, my dear sister, dominate in the shadows.” Her words create a chasm in my chest of a love too great for this world.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I very much doubt that.”

  “You are stronger than you will ever know. Confident.”

  Her breath hiccups. “Like a unicorn?”

  “Like a freaking alicorn.”

  “That is the stupidest name for a mythical creature.” She sniffles.

  “A freaking alicorn with big, buttery wings.”

  Beneath my fingertips, she feels so real in this place. Where nothing but us and every ghost that haunts the cathedral stand. She anchors me, even in reality. We braved so much in our short lives, and together we will have to brave even more. Even apart.

  Her voice turns serious once more. “Trust Valentino to at least keep you alive. I’ve known him for a while and he’s a decent supernatural to have on your side.”

  “He had no idea what you are, did he?”

  “Not a clue. But Alaric knew.” Her thumb rubs a circle over my hand. “We will always have this place to come to when we need each other.”

  “What now?”

  “Now you wake up, dear sister. Now you fight and find out who is after us. Find out just how deep this goes. Then you destroy them. Make them bleed, Penny.”

  I hiccup on a sob. “I’ll miss you.”

  “And I you.” Her small hands, identical to mine, grip my shirt in tight fists. “Of blood and spirit.”

  “Of blood and spirit.”

  “I see you, dear sister.”

  I need her to know that I will always see the perfect soul that lives inside her. “And I see you.”

  Just like that she fades away. My sobs echo across the cavernous room. Sinking to my knees, I slam onto the marble floor. Her spirit is gone from this sacred place, leaving nothing but the scent of incense and lilac. I reach for her and find nothing but air as I curl into myself. My heart torn in half.

  I allow myself a few moments to mourn her loss. Though not dead, the separation from her tears at my soul, the unknowns haunting my every breath.

  My eyes shut and my breath turns to a gasp until they flicker open to a dim lantern hanging above me, dirt browning the once white edges. Beneath me, the thin mattress allows springs to dig into my hip.

  With a searing breath, the pain begins, pulsing to a low, dull ache where it spirals out to every nerve in my torso. Groaning, I poke at the gauze where Pete dug out the sword tip.

  “Hey, don’t move.” Fingertips graze mine, pulling my hand into a hold. The scent of tobacco drifts over me. The sense of home coats my aura as I feel Joe. His closeness. His safety.

  “You’ve been smoking.” I don’t mind the scent of the pipe, not at all.

  “Yeah, well, Pete is a convincing man.” He brushes my damp, sweaty hair away from my forehead.

  “Poppy—” I choke on the words.

  “Gone, I know, peanut.” His palm tightens just a tad on mine. “Her heart will always be anchored to truth. The need to know drives her. You cannot cage a creature such as she, Penny. They will grow restless. Tired. Then angry. It was her time to wander.”

  “Why is it when you speak it’s like life lessons?” I briskly brush away my tears. It’s all I’ve done in the past week. Cry and cry some more.

  “Sometimes I say smart things,” he teases.

  “I have to figure out how to not get hurt.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, peanut.” He leans back, pulling the pipe from a rickety old table in a room just as old. Fraying floorboards peek up to trip anyone not watching close enough. Yellowed walls peel while water drips from the corner in the ceiling. Paneling hangs down as towels dry over their hardened wood.

  “How is this place sanitary?” I don’t dare look at the sheets. I’m sure they are yellowed as well, even if the scent of bleach drifts up to me.

  “Pete’s a special guy.”

  “When I first met him, he kept yelling about warlords.” Which still unsettles me knowing what I know now.

  “Well, yeah, he is Irish.”

  “That explains nothing.” I cough, holding my side, though it feels like my guts may spill out. I wave Joe away. “Know what? I don’t want to know.”

  “Water?” Joe leans forward, ready to run off to do my bidding.

  But my parched mouth can wait. He’s all I have left. “I don’t want to cry anymore.”

  “Know what, kiddo?” He clasps his hands, leaning forward, and his lips press out and his gruff wrinkles expose themselves. He doesn’t wait for me to reply, that was never the intent. “Sometimes when we want to cry, that’s what the spirit demands. Who are we to suppress the demands of the spirit? But once those tears dry up it will be time to fight. You two were made to do incredible things, and incredible things come with a price. We all have to pay a price, kiddo. Let yours fall.”

  His bones creak as he stands, brushing a kiss over my forehead. Grabbing his hat and sliding it on his head, he gives me a wink in his old-world charm way before walking to the door and opening it only to leave me. Without looking back, he shuts the hollow wood.

  I let myself grieve. I let the tears fall, and I allow my spirit to shed its weakness.

  Because when my eyes open to the morning light, I will have one hell of a fight before me.

  19

  Overhead, the rickety old lamp swings from when I smacked my head into it earlier. Shadows dance and twirl around the musty room. My fist tightens on the black bootlace, cinching it as tight as it will go. When I awoke not too long ago, it was to silence and an eerie calm that sunk into my soul. I made a vow in that moment.

  I shall not cry.

  I shall not fear.

  I shall kill my enemies.

  As my body moved slowly with the pain of a thousand stitches pinching my side, I swung my legs over the lumpy bed. My bare feet hit the wooden floor, but it might as well have been ice for as much as it sent shock waves through my toes. I gazed around the room. From the blacked-out window to the dirtied mirror hanging by a rusty nail.

  Everything about this room screamed at me that it wasn’t clean, it was dirty and full of infection just waiting to fester in my skin. But I sat for a moment with a sore body and a heavy heart, made my promises, then promptly wacked my head on the lamp.

  A small chest of drawers sat under the mirror with a pile of clothing and a duffle bag on top. Not my own, but with it a note written with Catholic school cursive.

  Penny,

  Give ‘em hell.

  Poppy

  P.S. Aja took Prince to her place.

  I tucked the simple words away deep inside me where I could forever return to them, then I took the note and a lighter and burned the paper. My eyes grew heavy watching the bits of ash flutter to the ground in sparkling embers.

  Leather pants, a black top, and boots sat folded on the pile along with two small knives that felt heavy in my hands. I let it clatter to the wood, not sure I was ready to play with pointy knives. At the bottom of the pile, wrapped in bulky tissue paper, was a leather jacket. Black, just my color. Giving in, I tucked the dagger
s into the holsters sewed inside the jacket.

  Dressing quickly, or as quick as I dared to go, I threaded my armed into the sleeves allowing the leather to waft to my nostrils and sink into my senses. My hand slipped inside the pockets until my fingers wrapped around a single vial. Much like the one Poppy gave me only days ago. Popping off the cap, I swallowed the vile green sludge down.

  Clenching my fists my body sank to the bed as the herbal mixture spread throughout my body knitting me back together. I made a mental note to ask Poppy about that the next time we have a rendezvous. And now, here I sit.

  All that’s left to put on are those boots. None of the clothing was actually Poppy’s, but rather copies of hers. Though I wear the leather and look the part, I feel like an imposter. But the only thing left to do is to become the witch, to leave and to thrive and to take back what someone or something is hellbent on taking from me.

  My freedom.

  The last boot tied, I stand, swinging open the creaky door. Before me, a dim and dirty hall stretches to the left and to the right. But voices only drift to me from one side. Veering left, I quiet my steps as the voices grow louder and louder.

  No sun pierces the dim space, and if it wasn’t for the painted windows, I would think I was tucked away deep underground somewhere.

  Once upon a time, Poppy and I begged Joseph to take us to one of those haunted houses with an accompanying hayride. Finally giving in, Joe drove us out and stood with us in the long line. He never complained, even as a light drizzle sprinkled our teenaged selves.

  Yet as we walked through that haunted house, we clung to him like the lifeline he is. The walls were dirty, and blood dripped down them. It was too much for me to handle and Joe ended up carrying me out. However, Poppy tried to sucker punch the workers. It was my first and last haunted house.

  Until now. The walls don’t drip with blood and no one pops out to yell “Boo!” while holding a chainsaw. Yet the ominous feeling in the air has me glaring at each painting and wondering if anyone peers out from those eyes as they watch me walk down the hallway.

  Thankfully the hallway doesn’t go on and on, but ends at a staircase going down. The voices become louder and my booted feet clunk down the steps and into a full kitchen. Smoky light casts a dim ambiance as Valentino, Pete, Joe, and Sean sit around the card table. Their eyes focused on me.