by Lauryn Evans
The dark-haired witch released Renata’s shoulders, her hands falling to her sides. “That is all I can do for you, Renata Courtenay.”
How did the witch know her name?
Renata said, “Thank you—”
“Rowena.” The dark-haired Nightblood witch dipped her head.
Renata smiled. “Thank you, Rowena.”
“You have little time left before you must return,” Rowena said. “Know this, Renata Courtenay. I know who and what you truly are. Only you have the power to face Azazel and stop him before it’s too late.” She paused, her eyes glazed over. “But this is just the beginning. Something much bigger than Azazel is coming. You must be ready for it.” Rowena turned and walked away from her, following in her sisters’ footsteps.
No, there had to be more. What did she mean by that? Renata had to know before she ran out of time.
Something bigger than Azazel?
“Wait!” Renata called, running after her. “Please, wait!”
Rowena continued to walk, taking slow steps, and faded away into the mist as if she’d never been there.
Renata rubbed her eyes, making sure she’d really seen Rowena disappear. Her legs grew heavier and heavier, and she felt herself being dragged down through the mist. She stopped fighting, allowing herself to return to the realm she belonged in.
Renata opened her eyes. Jackson, Adela, and Heather loomed over her, the sunlight stinging her eyes. She hoisted herself up onto her elbows, rubbing the back of her head.
“She’s awake!” Heather yelled, beckoning to the other House members.
Adelaide, Mariel, Wyatt, and Veronica shot out of the house into the yard.
Jackson glanced at the symbols drawn into the dirt by her feet. “You tried to talk to the witch ancestors, didn’t you?” He didn’t seem angry, but relieved she was still in one piece.
“I tried, yes,” Renata admitted.
“It didn’t work?” Adelaide asked, kneeling at her side.
“Sort of.” Renata stood, using Jackson’s outstretched arm to pull herself up. Once she was up on her feet, he cradled his arm around her waist, steadying her.
“How did it sort of work?” Veronica asked suspiciously, arms crossed flat against her chest.
“I didn’t establish a connection with the ancestors.” Renata scratched her head, not sure how to phrase what she was trying to say. “Instead, I somehow traveled to the spirit realm accidentally.”
“How did you do that?” Heather asked, her arms falling to her sides.
“I don’t know,” Renata said, before quickly changing the subject. “But, I do know Azazel is the reason Evander founded the Order of the Seven Blades.”
“What?” Jackson turned to her. “What are you saying?”
“One of the Nightblood witches showed me visions of the past. I saw Azazel and Evander,” Renata breathed. “Azazel did something to him. He made him hate vampires, taught him how to kill them, and urged him to form the Order.” Renata exhaled, the implication of her words sinking in. “It was all him.”
It was all Azazel’s doing. But Renata was still missing the why. She struggled to believe his sly demeanor was the sole reason. Azazel had to have some kind of motive. What drove him? What was he trying to gain?
If she could figure that out, maybe she could find out his endgame.
“So, we have another piece of the puzzle.” Adela slipped her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “The news report was one, and now we have another. We’re one step closer to figuring him out.”
“Adela’s right. Learning more about him and his past only helps us.” Heather decisively crossed her arms. “We need to fill in Clarissa. This is a possible lead.”
“You’re right,” Renata agreed, reaching for her cellphone in her back pocket.
“But first,” Jackson interjected, with a cheeky grin, “I’m taking you out, remember? You deserve a break.”
She guessed Clarissa could stay in the dark for a little longer.
Renata smiled, blushing. “I’ll go get ready then.”
7
“Jackson is going to be stunned when he sees you,” Adela said, staring in awe at her masterpiece.
Veronica stood by her, fussing over Renata’s hair as she examined her handiwork.
“You think so?” Renata was suddenly anxious to see herself.
Adela and Heather raided her closet and their own, dressing her up like a doll, while Veronica did her hair, Alice her nails, and Adelaide her makeup.
Turning towards the mirror, Renata looked at herself. “Wow.”
She had to admit that the girls had outdone themselves. Not that Renata could have done any of this herself—she wasn’t particularly talented in the beauty department. A practical outfit, she could do, but all of this… There was no way.
She wore a beautiful, curve-hugging, deep red cocktail dress she forgot she had, a pair of Heather’s nude pumps, and was adorned with Adela’s delicate silver drop necklace and matching earrings. Her chocolate-brown waves had been tamed, curled, and pulled up into a half up half down style, framing her porcelain face. Her makeup was simple yet elegant, embellishing her facial features. Subtle contour highlighted her regal cheekbones, while her filled in eyebrows drew attention to her amber eyes and the soft gloss on her lips. The whole look was topped off by a sophisticated nude polish on her fingernails and toes.
Renata almost didn’t recognize herself.
Excitement muddled her stomach, butterflies flurrying. She assured Jackson she could still eat, which meant there had to be food involved. But he hadn’t told her anything about what he’d planned for them, aside from how to dress. Good lord, it had been so long since she had been on a real date.
“Ladies,” Heather gushed. “Mission accomplished.”
Adelaide giggled with excitement. “I’d say so!”
Renata couldn’t contain her smile. Her cheeks would probably hurt by the end of the night, but she didn’t care.
“You’re glowing, Renata,” Alice grinned.
“When was the last time you went on a date?” Veronica asked as she sat on the edge of Renata’s bed.
“I don’t remember,” Renata said, only half lying. It had been years since she’d been in any type of relationship, not since she’d been turned, at least. Being a vampire made it hard to find guys.
“So, this will be your first official date with Jackson?” Adelaide girlishly twirled her hair around her finger.
“Yes,” Renata replied. While they had spent so much time together, they’d gone through so much and dealt with so much. They never had time for romantic candle-lit dinners. But, now, that wasn’t the case. She would make time for him, no matter how busy they were saving the House or the world. He was important to her, and she wanted him to know that.
“You both deserve it,” Alice gently squeezed Renata’s arm.
“Thank you,” Renata beamed. “Thank you all for everything.”
“No need to thank us,” Heather chimed in. “You’ve already done so much for all of us.”
Veronica lightly squeezed Renata’s hand. “It’s the least we could do.”
“Now, get out there,” Adela opened Renata’s bedroom door, pushing her out. “Have a good time.”
Veronica winked. “No need to hurry back.”
Renata grasped her beige clutch. “All right,” she laughed.
She descended the staircase into the kitchen where Jackson was waiting for her.
Good lord.
He cleaned up well.
Very well.
He wore a light blue fitted button-down shirt, tucked into navy dress pants, a silver tie, and black shoes. His hair was combed back, but some of it still fell over his face. Renata couldn’t help but smile, despite the soreness she already felt building up in her cheeks.
Jackson turned around, his eyes sizing up the length of her body. With his index finger, he tilted her chin upwards. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,�
� Renata blushed, heat rushing to her cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Jackson let out a carefree laugh—a sound that rustled the butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
“Shall we?” Like a gentleman, he put out his arm for her.
Renata took his arm, and they walked to the car.
Her chest tightened. She wished Jackson could have met Alexander. He would have loved Jack.
Despite her questions throughout the drive, Jackson revealed nothing of what he had planned for them. Finally, he pulled into the parking lot at a beachside restaurant where they sat outside, the sweet smell of the sea breeze filling her nose.
Renata was speechless. Tonight couldn’t be any better.
“Jackson,” she murmured. “This is…”
“You don’t have to say it,” he beamed. “Your face says it all.”
“It’s perfect,” she smiled.
He reached over to her, taking her hand. “I’m so glad you like it.” He picked up his menu. “I’m told the food here is amazing.”
Renata’s attention went directly towards the pasta dishes. When she was human, pasta and cheese were two of her favorite things.
“How does eating work as a vampire?” Jackson asked. “I’m curious to know.”
“That’s easy,” she told him. “It just passes through us. Our bodies can no longer break it down, so eating is pointless and purely for taste. Even then,” Renata clarified, “it’s not as satisfying.”
“What do you mean?”
“We experience tastes differently,” Renata explained. “The flavors are duller.”
“But we’re still getting desert,” Jackson said, rubbing his palms together.
Renata threw him a mischievous grin. “Of course we are.”
He shifted in his seat, eyeing the other tables. “This is weird. No one’s stopped by to get us drinks.”
“Maybe they’re busy tonight.”
“Maybe,” Jackson conceded. “But, all the reviews said the service here was phenomenal.”
Renata had no idea what to say to that, but she wouldn’t let anything stop them from enjoying themselves. Nothing would ruin tonight for them.
“So, Renata,” Jackson said, taking her hand. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about us and our future. Things are getting serious, and I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about—”
“Can I get you something to drink?” The waiter plopped down two sets of silverware with a loud clunk. His voice was curt, like he had something better to do.
Startled by the waiter’s abruptness, Jackson pulled his hand from Renata’s. “Uh, yes,” he said, gesturing to her.
“I’ll have water, please,” she said.
Annoyed, the waiter turned his head, waiting on Jackson’s answer.
“I’ll do the same.” Jackson threw a confused look at Renata.
“Are you ready to order?” The waiter asked, pulling out a notepad with disdain.
“Yes,” Jackson told him before he and Renata placed their orders. The waiter left, returning their peace and quiet.
The gears in Renata’s head whirred.
The waiter is uncharacteristically rude. Something wasn’t right. But, she wasn’t about to jump to any conclusions. Not tonight.
Tonight was about her and Jackson.
“You were saying?” She prompted. He had been in the middle of saying something when the waiter interrupted him.
Jackson ran a hand through his hair, something he only did when he was nervous. “Renata, I love you, and I think we should take the next step—”
“Ugh!”
The loud display caught Renata’s attention. A middle-aged couple seated not too far from them was arguing loudly.
The woman, short with brown hair, stood from the table, clutching her purse. “Even after twenty-five years of marriage, you still don’t listen to me!”
“Carol, please,” the man hissed through clenched teeth, clearly embarrassed.
“No,” the woman exclaimed, pointing a nagging finger at the man. “I’m done, and this time, I’m calling a lawyer.” She stormed out of the restaurant, her husband trailing after her, his angry face red.
The tension left in the air was so thick, Renata felt like she could cut it with her dinner knife.
“I’m so sorry, Renata,” Jackson apologized. “Tonight was supposed to be relaxing. I wanted,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I wanted to take you away from all of this.”
Renata reached over, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know.”
Using her acute hearing, Renata swept the restaurant. All over, employees and guests bickered. The restaurant was doused in irritation and tension. A fistfight was simply waiting to break out. No, something was most definitely not right.
There was only one person Renata could think to blame for this little scene.
Azazel.
She knew he was responsible. Seeing this for herself only confirmed everything she’d learned. The only thing she couldn’t figure out was what Azazel got out of all this.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked her, seeing her expression.
“Nothing,” Renata lied with a sweet smile.
“Renata,” Jackson pressed.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Taking his hand, Renata said, “Tonight’s about you and me, remember?”
He nodded, looking stressed.
Once their dishes came out, they finished their meal with uncomfortable conversation. Jackson’s black brows knitted together, his jaw tense, but he carried on like there was nothing wrong, even though she could tell their experience there bothered him.
She wished she could fix it and make it all go away.
In the car, on the way back to the house, Renata pulled out her cellphone and held it to her ear. “Clarissa, it’s me. Can you meet me at the house?”
“Uh, sure,” Clarissa said with confusion in her voice. “Why?”
“We’ll talk about it when you get there.” Renata hung up the phone, clutching it tightly.
Something was coming. Whatever Azazel’s plan was, it was progressing quickly. Worry gathered in the pit of Renata’s stomach. She feared that if Azazel succeeded, there would be cataclysmic consequences that would forever alter their world.
Once Renata and Jackson got back to the house, she’d called the House members into the common room for an urgent meeting.
“So, you think Azazel’s behind it? The humans turning on each other?” Veronica crossed her arms flat against her chest.
“Yes,” Renata said. “First, the witches lose their magic and turn on each other, and now the humans?” She shook her head. “This is all too much to be a coincidence.”
“I agree,” Alice chimed in, her deep red eyes looking around the room at the others. The House members, joined by Clarissa, stood or sat somewhere in the common room, arranged in a circular formation.
“Remember the news report?” Adela tucked her hair behind her ear. “What Renata and Jackson saw in the restaurant only confirms it. The humans are turning on each other, and it’s not something they’re doing on their own.”
“What does this all mean, then?” Heather asked, deep in thought. “What is he getting at?”
“Well, if he wants us to be weak, what better way to do that than divide us?” Clarissa’s arms fell to her sides. “He’s targeting witches and humans.” She sighed. “And it’s getting worse. I can barely keep the coven witches in line. Soon, it’s going to get physical. It’s almost a good thing we don’t have much magic left.”
Edwin’s gaze fell to the floor, the implication of Clarissa’s words sinking in.
Clarissa rubbed her eyes. “I get these sudden urges to lash out for the littlest things when I’m around them. I’ve been trying to fight it, but it’s overpowering.”
“From what I saw while I was in the spirit realm,” Renata said, “it seems he can influence the humans’ emotions and actions.”
Adelaide’s face fell. “He c
an probably do that to witches too.”
“Which is dangerous,” Renata said.
“The spirit realm?” Clarissa asked, her tone sassy, putting her hands on her hips.
“I’ll explain it later,” Renata promised.
“I still don’t understand what he has to gain,” Mariel huffed, narrowing her crimson eyes. “But I know that whatever it is, it’s been thousands of years in the making.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Renata said, looking to Jackson, who stood beside her.
He rubbed her lower back, comforting her. “We’ll make it through whatever he’s got planned.”
Renata didn’t know how he could be so sure. Still, she appreciated his attempts to make her feel better.
Wyatt, who had been silent, finally cleared his throat. “Do you really think Azazel’s doing this?”
“Yes,” Renata nodded. “I’m sure of it.” Some part of her deep down knew. She didn’t know how or why, but something in her recognized his methods. Like she’d seen them before, in another life.
Wyatt pulled Mariel closer to him.
Renata didn’t know how yet, but she was going to do whatever it took to stop Azazel.
She had to.
8
“Goodnight, everyone,” Renata said, her fatigue bleeding through her voice. Jackson trailed close behind her, and the two disappeared at the top of the staircase.
“Goodnight,” Adela murmured, her mind buzzing. In the past, they’d tackled issues and dealt with people who wanted to hurt them. The Order of the Seven Blades, the Nightblood witch coven, but never anything like this. Azazel was a threat like nothing they’d ever faced before. The kind of threat six years ago, she would have never believed existed.
Hell, six years ago, she would have laughed in someone’s face if they said vampires existed. A lot had changed since then.
Azazel was a demon—which scared her. Terrified her, actually.
The other House members trickled out of the open kitchen and common room area, doing normal things. Heather turned on the TV, and Veronica sat on the couch, watching it with her. Wyatt and Mariel said their goodnights and trudged upstairs. Adela lingered, lost in her thoughts for once. Man, she wished it was easier for her to be normal.
