Lesson learned. Leave stain removal to washing machines, not magic. As Callum said, use spells only for stuff she couldn’t do otherwise. Making Sierra stronger and faster—to a point she could survive vampires trying to kill her—couldn’t be done without magic… or whatever Cold War Russia did to its female athletes, but she had neither the time nor the steroids. Sierra needed to feel safe right away, not after years of intense training.
“Sweetie?” asked Mom.
“Huh?” Sophia blinked and looked over at her.
“Did you not hear me ask if you wanted to stop by Starbucks?”
“Oh. It’s a little late for coffee, isn’t it?”
“I’m going to be up late working.”
Sophia cringed. “Sure. I’ll get cocoa or something.” I’m gonna be up late studying.
A cup of vanilla chai sat on the rug beside Sophia.
She lay on her stomach, rereading all the notes and ideas she’d jotted down over the past week. Practical testing earlier in the day took the form of attempting to speed up the local squirrels. Initial tests showed promise, despite one momentarily hairless—and highly surprised—test subject. Squirrel four ended up so fast he appeared to teleport around for a few minutes until the magic wore off. Another shot off like a bullet and crashed through Mr. Niedermeyer’s window. She’d hastily thrown a spell to repair the broken glass, fast enough the old man couldn’t tell which window he heard break. Poor guy spent hours walking around the outside of his house, then nearly fainted from shock when a squirrel darted out the door as he went back inside.
Sophia rolled over and sat up, cradling the mostly empty Starbucks cup to her face, inhaling the yummy smell. Before I do anything to Sierra, I have to make sure it’s safe. Asking the mystics for advice wouldn’t help. They’d totally try to convince her not to do it and never even try to think it over. Expecting them to advise her against continuing should have been enough to put an end to the project. However, they admittedly did not understand everything about her magic, being mostly ritualists. She also didn’t want to tell them about it due to secrecy. Any explanation for why she wanted to do it would lead back to vampires. Sure, they already knew about Sarah, but no need to keep talking about it all the time.
Sarah made it quite clear the security of their whole family depended on keeping stuff secret.
I don’t have to keep vampires secret from vampires.
“Pff.” She sputtered at the cup of vanilla chai. “I don’t really know any. And they don’t understand magic. Sarah found one vampire mystic, but they had to blow him up.”
Of course, the man had been the one responsible for sending ‘zombies’ after the family, so he probably deserved to be blown up. Maybe Dalton knew someone who understood mystics and wouldn’t break the secrets.
Sophia blinked, felt stupid for a second, then bonked her head into the chai cup a few times. She already knew a mystic who—while not a vampire—she could talk to about anything and not break secrecy: Coralie. Even better, the ghostly oracle would know if doing something to Sierra would go wrong in a severe way.
She hasn’t shown up to warn me yet, so maybe it won’t be dangerous.
“Miss Coralie? Can I talk to you, please?”
Sophia sat cross-legged in the middle of her room, sipping the last of her chai and gazing around for any sign of an answer. She’d spoken to Coralie a few times before, but hadn’t yet called for her when she hadn’t already been in the room. The ghost probably wouldn’t show up at all if she didn’t feel like talking. Then again, she might not be able to listen everywhere for anyone trying to get her attention.
Once she ran out of chai perhaps ten minutes later, Sophia fidgeted at the cup. She didn’t want to be rude or bother the spirit, but if anyone could give her solid advice as to whether or not her plan should be abandoned, it would be Coralie Hall. The woman had been a mystic in life, now an oracle. The Universe sometimes had a wicked sense of irony. It gave her the gift of seeing the future, but took away her ability to share anything she learned with pretty much everyone—by killing her.
The temperature in Sophia’s bedroom dropped about ten degrees.
A year ago, such an event would’ve made her scream and run. Now, she smiled.
“Thank you!” said Sophia in a half whisper.
Coralie manifested a step inside the door, still wearing the same old timey dress. She looked like some antique photograph from the early 1800s brought to life. “Hello, dear. Good of you to call. I’d been feeling a little lonely tonight anyway and wanted someone to converse with.”
“Sure.” Sophia stood, not wanting to be rude. “You’re welcome to stay all night, at least until I have to go to bed.”
The spirit smiled, glided across the room and sat in her desk chair. “What is it you wanted to ask about? We may as well handle the important things first, then see where our words decide to roam.”
Sophia hopped on her bed and explained the situation regarding Sierra.
“Hmm.” Coralie’s body flickered. She stared off into space, flickered again, then shifted her gaze back to Sophia. “I do not see anything dreadful occurring, certainly not as much as will occur if your sister continues to consume vampiric blood.”
“Eep!” Sophia clutched a fat plush unicorn to her chest, half hiding her face behind its rainbow mane. “It’s going to hurt her?”
“Indirectly.”
She squeezed the unicorn even tighter. “How?”
“You must understand what I sometimes see is similar to a pattern of light cast by a complex chandelier in the sun. It is as true as anything may be in a moment, but a slight breeze unmakes it. In a state of stillness, events will come to pass as they have played out in my vision. Even in the time it takes me to explain, something small may occur and rearrange everything.”
“Okay.”
“If she continues down the path she is on with nothing changing, the combination of her craving and her fear will overwhelm her reason. Sarah will become concerned, try to refuse her. Sierra seeks out another who makes her a thrall, and likely a vampire before another three years pass.”
Sophia squirmed. Bad, but not as bad as getting killed. “What is she afraid of?”
“That, you will need to ask her. I see potential events, not into the hearts of the living.”
“Okay. One more question. Can I do what I’m hoping to do so she doesn’t have to go nuts?”
Coralie regarded her for a moment before dusting at her left sleeve. “Your magic is unusually strong for someone so young. Wild, though. Once you learn to control it, there is much within your grasp.”
Sophia nodded once. “Hope I can figure it out before Sierra does something stupid.”
“Let me give you one more piece of advice.” Coralie floated up out of the chair and settled on the bed next to her. “Magic is like a serpent we are forced to seize by the tail. Sometimes, it tolerates us. Sometimes, it whips around and bites. There is never a time when a person does not risk the forces they attempt to control lashing out at them. Magic also feeds on our emotion, desire, and essence.”
Sophia swallowed. “Essence? Like it eats our souls?”
“No, child.” Coralie gave a soft chuckle. “The essence of who a person is affects how they interact with magic. The advice I want to give you is this: act in a pure manner. My husband and I sought power and… look what became of me.”
“Oh.” Sophia bowed her head against the plush unicorn. “I want to protect Sierra.”
“As you should. That is a pure motive. If you can resist the temptation to use your ability for greed, pride, vengeance, or other ignoble endeavors, it shall serve you well. You are so innocent now, but young. This world is an unkind place to those who fail to shroud their hearts in steel.”
“That’s just as bad, though. It’s like hurting yourself before the world can do it. I don’t wanna give up and stop feeling. Better to cry it out and keep trying.”
“Spoken like one who has never truly cried
.”
Sophia lifted her face out of the rainbow mane. “I thought Sarah died for a couple days. I’ve never been so sad. If you stop yourself from feeling so you never get hurt, you also never have happy stuff.”
“Oh, you sweet dear.” Coralie attempted to kiss her atop the head, making a cold spot. “I fear you will cry far more than you expect, but the tears will be pure.”
Umm… “Is that a prediction or pessimism?”
Coralie chuckled. “The difference between pessimism and realism is shaped by one’s experience. A pessimist expects the worst will happen because they believe themselves unlucky. A realist expects the worst will happen because they have lived it.”
Sophia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Talking with Coralie for a couple hours about ordinary nonsense had been fun, if mildly frustrating. While it made her feel like a character in some kind of Jane Austen book—mostly due to Coralie’s attire and habit of talking about things she experienced while alive—she couldn’t work on helping Sierra and chat at the same time. She didn’t mind, though. The spirit had already helped a great deal. She now knew what she hoped to do could work… she only needed to figure out how to control the spell properly.
She also required a teacher she could talk to and not break secrecy. A teacher capable of understanding magic. Someone who could answer any question she had. Or perhaps something capable of answering her questions.
The Tome of F.
Wide eyed, Sophia lurched to sit up, displacing a few plush animals.
Klepto, curled up on top of her chest, slipped down into her lap. “Mew?”
She picked the kitten up, raised her to eye level, and touched noses. “Can you borrow the book?”
“Mew,” chirped Klepto before vanishing into a brief flicker of purple light.
This is either going to be amazing or horrible.
Thirty-ish seconds later, the kitten reappeared, her teeth clamped onto the giant book, which plopped onto the bed beside Sophia. Seeing such a small kitten ‘carry’ such a huge book made her giggle.
Coralie reappeared.
“Uh oh,” whispered Sophia. “Is someone going to die if I open this book?”
“No, dear. I’m merely curious. The Aurora Aurea have not been able to get anything out of it thus far.”
“How come?”
The spirit nonchalantly paced about. “A combination of their lacking sufficient power as well as skepticism. You have two advantages they do not. Power, and you are a child.”
Sophia blinked, then cringed. “Is my magic going to get weaker when I grow up?”
“Only if you allow it to.”
“Why would I do something silly like that?”
Coralie laughed. “All children believe in magic. Few adults do. By skepticism, I meant you have nothing holding you back from believing magic works. You trust, wholly and completely, in a wondrous world most adults are no longer capable of believing can exist. Darren, Callum, and Landon grew up before they ever saw proof magic exists. They see and act in small ways. Their doubt anything larger is even possible limits them to small things. You, on the other hand, believe in unicorns.”
Sophia grinned. “I’m not as bad as Sarah’s friend Ashley. The girl has a serious unicorn addiction. It might be time for an intervention. And yes, I am well aware I’m presently surrounded by a stuffed animal army, including six unicorns.”
Coralie covered her mouth to mute another laugh.
“Besides,” whispered Sophia, “Brownies are real. So are leprechauns. Unicorns have to be. Just because we haven’t seen something doesn’t prove it’s not out there.”
“I am going to make another prediction.” Coralie raised an eyebrow, her expression one of complete seriousness.
Sophia bit her lip.
“You are not planning to go to sleep right away.”
“Guilty,” muttered Sophia. “It’s summer, and it’s not even ten yet. Also, I have to return this book before they notice it’s gone.”
Coralie nodded. “A good plan.”
She hopped out of bed lugging the ponderous book. It practically dragged her to the floor. Hmm. Let’s not be dumb this time. Even if it turned out not to be needed, Sophia created a protection circle from crayons, paintbrushes, glitter, and two sheets’ worth of star stickers. The mystics would laugh at her, but she already suspected ritual materials didn’t truly matter in most cases as much as the intention behind them. Sure, some herbs, minerals, and crystals had genuine properties, but a girl didn’t need $250 worth of mandrake root or moonsilver to do what a handful of strategically arranged crayons could handle. The preparations had power because she gave them power, not because they grew on the underside of a rock somewhere in Ireland being nibbled at by goats in the light of the full moon.
Once satisfied she’d properly shielded herself from any potential entities bursting out of the giant book, she moved it to the center of the circle and put her hand on the cover. Still, the tome gave off a noticeable air of indifference, seemingly unconcerned whether or not she bothered it or went away.
Sophia concentrated on her question. How can I protect Sierra from becoming dependent on vampire blood, and maybe enchant her so she doesn’t need it? After fixing the idea in mind, she pulled the cover open.
Blank pages.
She looked at the old, yellowed paper. Oddly, it didn’t surprise her to find the book blank.
“You’re not really empty. You’ve got too much information even for this many pages, so you can’t show it all at once.” She traced her fingers down one page. “How can I help Sierra? How can I control my magic?”
Dark brown lettering faded into view. Fancy illustrated capitals festooned in faeries and flowers started each paragraph, no two written in the same size lettering. The text had a handwritten quality to it and even gave off the scent of fresh ink.
“Whoa.” Sierra stared in awe.
“See?” Coralie stood tall, proud. “Do what you need to. I shall go distract the mystics so they do not notice the book missing. Be sure and return it when you are done.”
“Yes. I was going to.” Sophia nodded. “Absolutely.”
Coralie vanished.
Sophia knelt on the carpet in front of the book, extending one hand to summon a small magical light in her palm. Enough to read by, but not so bright Mom or Dad would see it leaking out under her bedroom door and come check on her.
The fancy writing described the process of creating a manner of potion, infused by magic and her intention. Several paragraphs detailed the exact ways in which she needed to envision the effect of the spell operating. The remainder described how to prepare the concoction as well as the most important, and some not so important but still necessary, ingredients. It also went on to describe the safest way to deliver the enchantment to Sierra, which surprisingly involved not drinking the potion but soaking in it.
“A grey acanthia mushroom nourished in spirit water, a silver ring saturated in mystical energy, and dirt trodden upon by fey.” Sophia cringed. “Oh, wow. I don’t think Safeway’s gonna have this stuff.”
A page turned. More text appeared. Sophia read as fast as the letters faded into view. All three items could be found in the same place. She drew in a surprised, happy breath. Alas, the place was Salem, specifically an old, abandoned house formerly occupied by a coven of mystics, now abandoned and rotting. Her happiness crashed to the floor.
Ugh! Salem? That’s on the other side of the country. Mom’s not going to want to drive me there.
The facing page explained she could find the mushroom growing in the basement, adequately nourished by water dripping from the ceiling. Such an amount of paranormal energy suffused the structure, the rain became spirit water by the time the leak reached the basement. A focusing ring adequate for her purposes could be found in a bureau on the second floor, and fey had once danced upon the dirt in the garden beneath the rose bushes.
She sighed silently out her nostrils. So close, but so im
possibly far away. No way would her parents take her across the country to Massachusetts so she could do some ‘magic stuff’ on Sierra. Well, Dad probably would… but Mom would freak and tell him no. Sarah might be willing to help if properly warned what would happen to Sierra if she kept drinking vampire blood for power. But, Sarah might also simply command Sierra to stop wanting it and go back to being an ordinary kid sister. She’d totally use mind control on them, too, if she thought it necessary to keep the Littles safe. While it would stop Sierra from doing stupid things, it would not keep her safe if bad guys showed up on their own.
“Salem isn’t as far away as London.” Sophia closed her eyes. I need to protect my sister. She isn’t supposed to turn into a vampire or get hurt. I have to help her. “How can I open gates like the London mystics did and not have a giant void octopus smack me in the face?”
The pages fluttered up as if in a breeze, rapidly turning from right to left before settling. More text wrote itself in.
“Ooh!” She leaned close to the book.
Time to read.
15
Stranded on a Wooden Boat
Reality has several immutable constants: death, taxes, and whenever something unpleasant occurs, the aristocracy tends to gather in secret and figure out how to save themselves at the expense of everyone else.
While not every vampire is financially wealthy, we’re basically sectioned off from mortals in an aristocracy of sorts. It’s not quite the same as the French elite gathering in fancy manors to gripe about peasants. However, if mortals found out about us, I’m sure metaphorical guillotines would follow soon.
Vampire Innocent | Book 12 | Ancient Vampire Death Cults & Other Annoyances Page 12
