Witchling Wars

by Shawn Knightley

  He said the last line with such remorse. Such sadness. I don’t think he even caught the level of tension in his own voice when the words came tumbling out.

  “But why keep such close track of her bloodline?” I asked with the large book still sitting on my lap.

  His eyes were focused on me in the way that sent chills down my spine. Even in the heat of my sister’s attic in the summertime of Dilton, Georgia.

  “Eli told me you two met,” he said.

  I nodded.

  He gave a knowing grin. “Eli confided in me long ago that Georgeanna’s bloodline would prove…” he waited to find the right word. “Significant.”

  “Significant? Significant how?”

  “He spoke of trying times coming for witchlings in the future. This dimension has never treated witchlings with kindness and it will only get worse. Humans don’t believe in witchlings or vampires now, but it’s only the calm before a storm.”

  “My gran used to say the same thing,” I blurted out. “That humans would prove more hostile toward witchlings in the future than they were in the past. And that I needed to be prepared.”

  “Yes, Eli’s family believes the same. They also believe that Georgeanna’s line would produce a young woman who will be influential in the future.”

  “Influential to what?”

  “Our survival.”

  ‘Our survival? He can’t mean witchlings and vampires?’

  He saw my face contort and kept talking. I decided to just listen for once since he usually kept me in the dark.

  “Eli’s family believes that there’s a very fragile balance that must be maintained between the witchlings and humans. That balance was broken down when so many witchlings started mating with humans. Even more so when vampires were created. The balance is getting more and more unsteady. Eli spoke of a young woman who was prophesied to appear centuries after Georgeanna was born. But that when she appeared, she would hold the likeness of Georgeanna in her appearance. That was how we were to know that those trying times were going to happen within the span of one human lifetime.”

  A prophecy? Was he actually giving me some garbage about me being a ‘chosen one?’

  I shook my head, not willing and not wanting to believe such a thing. “Next you’ll be telling me that I’ll bring balance to the force.”

  He smirked. Almost like he found his own words as ridiculous as I did. “You’re not going to bring about balance, Harper. If anything your existence frightens other witchlings. You’re a warning. A warning that the worst of times for other witchlings will happen within the span of one human lifetime. If the vixra outside of Eli knew of your existence, you would be taken by them and locked away to prevent others from panicking. And there would be nothing I could do to stop them.”

  “Then why didn’t Eli take me?” I asked.

  Nathaniel’s shoulders fell a bit and he walked closer to me by the large wooden chest, taking a second to peer down inside to see if there was anything interesting. He made a face that said something like ‘typical kruxa garbage,’ then looked back to me.

  “Eli is a pragmatist. He wouldn’t see the need for keeping you away from a normal life so long as you don’t cause trouble. The fact that he knows of your existence is enough for him. But his family will eventually find out. Probably due to all the coverage the media is giving to the Samantha Larsen case. Especially after the stunt Officer Parker’s sister just pulled. Which is why you and I need to leave as soon as possible.”

  “You mean I’ll have to live in hiding?”

  “No different from how you have your whole life, Harper. You’ll still have a sense of normality. Perhaps not in Dilton, but I’ll make sure that you have it.”

  His eyes told me he meant it. That he wanted that for me. That he would go out of his way to make it happen even if it was an inconvenience to him. To all of the Catach-Brayin. I don’t know what passed between him and me at that moment. I don’t know the exact moment when Nathaniel started seeing me as something more than a ‘little kruxa.’ Was it all just an act? This veneer of hardness he displayed around him? An impenetrable shield that made sure he could never be ensnared by another kruxa ever again?

  “But why?” I asked. “Why would you do that. Some vixra prophecy? Or because of a woman I never even knew?”

  He knelt down, meeting me at eye level. He extended his arm out, taking my cheek into his hand. Still cold like ice. Still a touch unsettling. But there was warmth before where it didn’t exist only a couple weeks ago. It certainly wasn’t in his veins or his skin, but it was very present. His eyes bore into mine like he was contemplating whether or not he should say something.

  “I gave Georgeanna my word that I would be different,” he said. “That I would make myself into a different man from other vampires. I would find a way to keep my humanity without being scarred by a kruxa. I would live for something other than the selfish pursuit of blood like all the others. Your family line has given me that small piece of humanity. I’ve cared for various members of your line when they needed a push or a helping hand. Whether that was money or being lured away from a bad situation. I haven’t always been watching, but I’ve always been around.”

  The way he touched my face was intimate. And his eyes, a girl could get lost in them and never find her way back. I had little doubt that he hadn’t avoided taking advantage of that feature over the centuries if he met a girl who interested him.

  Right there, in the hot attic of my sister’s house, I thought for a single moment that Nathaniel might kiss me. That he might find himself drawn once more to a kruxa. One that looked like the woman he once loved. I moved away from him a few inches, peering down at my palms. My magic didn’t appear. He wasn’t at risk of being marked by me. For whatever reason, my magic didn’t see him as a man that needed to be made mortal. He wasn’t a lock for whatever key my magic wanted to open for the prospect of leaving immortality behind.

  He didn’t let me get too far away. He took my face back into his hands but I couldn’t look at him. He was inches away from me now. Mere inches. If he were human I knew I would be able to feel his breath drift over my skin. And even though his hands were so cold, I hardly noticed in the harsh heat of the attic.

  “You know, for someone who was scared I would mark him a couple weeks ago, you seem quite curious at the prospect now,” I said. The way he touched me with hints of affection made it appear as though he was testing me. Searching for an answer to a question. Seeing if he really was in danger of my blood marking him.

  He grinned. A grin that was a bit domineering and crafty. A grin that showed me Nathaniel’s true intense nature was back and his shield was right where he wanted it. “I’m not about to bring you home with me without knowing for sure that your magic doesn’t have something devious in mind.”

  And just like that, I was back to my true nature as well. Thinking of him as nothing more than an asshole.

  ‘There isn’t a chance that I’ll mark you, prick. I won’t let it happen. Wait a minute. Did he say home? What home? Not his home!’

  Nathaniel got up and walked over to the ladder, climbed down the steps and motioned for me to come along. A heavy knock came at the door, startling me so much that I stood right up from where I was sitting. If it was the media, I was going to be furious. The nosy pieces of trash came all the way to my sister’s house to invade my privacy.

  With one arm, I had gran’s grimoire, the family ancestry book, Eli’s notebook, and a few items of my grandpa’s wrapped in the velvet fabric it once lay inside, carrying it down the ladder as Nathaniel touched my sides to make sure I got down safely before raising the wooden ladder and closing it. I didn’t protest when he touched me. I wasn’t sure why.

  The knocking only increased. A bright flash interrupted my vision causing me to see spots. The flash of what I prayed was lightning but I knew was the flash of cameras.

  Nathaniel walked down the staircase, poised and ready to face whoever it was and presumably te
ll them to back the hell off.

  “They’ll just camp outside,” I said from upstairs, holding my grandparent’s possessions in a bundle inside my arms.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We’re not staying long.”

  He opened the door and low and behold, Officer Rosenberg was there with another police officer. She held up a piece of paper which I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was a warrant for my arrest. But my arrest for what? Having a brand that I never wanted? Or as far as they knew, having a tattoo in common with the victims?

  “Officer,” said Nathaniel.

  “We have a warrant for the arrest of Harper Ashwood,” she stated.

  ‘That was fast. I bet you were just itching for a reason.’

  “We know she’s here,” she said. “Please step out of the way.”

  ‘You’re telling a vampire to get out of your way? Woman, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.’

  “No, you don’t,” said Nathaniel as he glared at Officer Rosenberg straight in the eyes.

  Officer Rosenberg’s veneer of toughness started to fade before my eyes as I watched from upstairs.

  “You’re going to question Officer Parker’s sister for having possession of emails sent on a private police server. That’s more suspicious to you than some silly tattoo on Harper Ashwood’s side.”

  Nathaniel looked at her partner and made sure the message sank in. They both backed down and took generous steps away from the door.

  The press were snapping shots of Nathaniel. Tobias said he did everything he could to avoid cameras. Nathaniel was practically taking bullets for me by letting them snap shots of him.

  Officer Rosenberg’s shoulders slumped. She was looking forward to placing cuffs around my hands. I could sense her disappointment. She had the warrant ready for a while and was only waiting to give a judge good reason to sign it. The display at the funeral must have excited her beyond imagining.

  Nathaniel’s powers for luring people was obviously well-honed. Like a weapon aimed directly for those he saw as useful or downright annoying.

  Officer Rosenberg and her partner turned around and walked back toward their police vehicle with the media continuing to snap pictures until they were out of sight.

  Nathaniel shut the door and I came down the stairs. He placed a hand on my back and led me down the hall and toward the backyard. I knew what was coming next.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. “Your house?”

  “I have to get you out of here. I can’t lure half the county into believing you weren’t involved with the victim’s deaths.”

  “But what about Emily? If she’s on vixra blood her heart could explode just like Andrew’s did.”

  “I have to put you first, Harper. I gave Eli and Tobias my word.”

  He led me outside to Madison’s backyard and opened a vixra tunnel with a wave of his arm, as though he was opening a sliver of space in the air that only he could see. Then he took my hand and beckoned me toward it. It was becoming a habit that whenever I stepped into a vixra tunnel I didn’t know where I was going. This time was no different.

  Chapter 9

  I guess having been forced through vixra tunnels on four occasions in the past enabled my body to finally adjust a little because I went through this time without coming out of the other end feeling the least bit nauseous. Which was a great relief given that Nathaniel had made me feel completely vulnerable. One minute he was stone cold and threatening, the next he was tender and dare I say damn near affectionate.

  Gran taught me throughout my childhood that vampires don’t care about anyone. They only hunt for blood. Maybe that was true back during medieval times. But something had changed. Nathaniel was capable of empathy. That much I knew. The story behind him and Georgeanna was proof of it. And yet, at the same time Nathaniel worked so hard to make sure he didn’t come across as weak. A lesson taught to him by Tobias perhaps, or just a veneer he used to get what he wanted without argument or complaint.

  As we stepped out of the vixra tunnel and it slowly closed behind us, I got my first peek into Nathaniel’s home. The outside looked like a log cabin with a large wooden entry door. He unlocked the front door and we stepped inside. It was so different from Tobias’s home. Tobias’s had a mixture of modern and classic. Enough of both worlds to make it appear comfortable but not outside of the times. Nathaniel clearly had a different version of comfort.

  The house was cozy but old. Rustic. Fit for a mountain man made with exquisite taste for nature’s scenic views without the sacrifice of modern comfort. Made mostly of wood and stone. I walked over to the window to see forest surrounding us with mountains appearing in the distance through a pathway of trees. The air had a touch of crispness to it. A crispness that I so longed for during the long and hot Georgia summers.

  “Where are we?” I asked as Nathaniel closed the heavy door behind us.

  “Somewhere safe. You won’t be disturbed here.”

  “Yes, but where on the map are we? Are you seriously not going to tell me?”

  “No, I’m not. No one knows where this house is and I want to keep it that way. That’s the whole reason why it’s safe.”

  I gave a huff of frustration and went over to his couch in the middle of the large living room. Above us were wooden beams scaling the entire ceiling. To my left was a fireplace big enough to stand in with logs that looked like Nathaniel had chopped them himself. He didn’t need the warmth. He wasn’t even technically alive with a human heartbeat. Which led me to believe that I wasn’t the first human he had brought here. He had others to keep warm. Others to care for. More proof that he wasn’t as cold as he wanted me to believe.

  ‘You reveal yourself in the smallest of ways, Nathaniel.’

  He took off his tailored jacket and hung it up in the corner on a metal hook by a large wooden door with steel locks. For someone with such impeccable taste in clothes, he had a taste for mountaineer type of decor. Almost like the taste I imagined a pioneer or explorer might have had centuries ago. Even so, it was sturdy. Like a fortress. And yet, it had all the modern appliances one could ask for.

  “The way I see things,” he said as he went over to the bar in the corner and poured from two separate bottles. “Your face is all over the news. I need to meet with Eli and see how much time we have to work with before the vixra know you’re alive. They keep tabs on things going on with humans, but not to the degree that they once did. They’ve separated themselves from most modern society and don’t tend to care too much about the everyday happenings humans trouble themselves with.”

  He finished pouring the liquids into glasses of crystal and brought them over to the table between the dark brown leather couches, placing one before me. His was full of thick red liquid. Liquid I was certain was blood. Mine was full of something else. Something more maple colored. I took it into my hands and immediately recognized the taste. Whiskey. A sweet one. Something a vampire would have no use for other than giving it to humans to make them feel comfortable and relaxed.

  ‘Yep. You’ve definitely had company here. Human company.’

  It didn’t take me long to recognize the taste of this particular brand either. It was Southern Comfort. One of my mother’s favorites to sip on special occasions and holidays. A lady’s whiskey from New Orleans. If he did have company here before, there was a chance it was female.

  “Why do the vixra separate themselves?” I asked, trying to sound as he often did. Slightly disinterested and irritated.

  “They’ve tried integrating with humans over the centuries. They even tried helping them in ways that could have benefited human existence. But they found that they often did more harm than good. The way vixra see it, their altruism to help mankind played a part in the downfall of the witchlings on a much larger scale. And many humans started dying as a result during the purges against witches. Humans have a tendency to panic and go on ‘witch hunts’ as they are still called to this day when they feel threatened. So the vixra prefer
lives away from modernity and humanity altogether.”

  Gran had said something similar. That the witchlings had tried to live among humans but it proved unproductive. And downright dangerous for our kind. But I didn’t know it had led to entire ranks of witchlings to completely disassociate from society. I thought that was a privilege left to lowly kruxa like myself. I always thought of the vixra as private, but not intentionally seclusive due to the history of witchlings.

  “And what if they’ve already seen my face? What if the police department in Dilton decides to pursue me further and they’ve seen I’ve skipped town? I don’t see any way out of this.”

  ‘Thanks again Madison for digging me into this hole I can’t seem to get out of.’

  He sat back into the leather couch with one arm outstretched over the back end and another holding the glass of blood in his hand.

  “If the vixra know of your existence then you’ll be safe here in my home. Where no one knows I even own property. They would need a sort of location spell to know more and that requires an item that the person possesses or a few drops of your blood. They will need to go to your house to find that. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. As for the police department, I will go back to Dilton and see what can be done.”

  “Meaning what? You can’t lure half the town.”

  He glared at me as though the suggestion that I was underestimating his skills was a bit of an insult. “I will do what I can. Which might not be much for the time being but you’re better off with my help than without it.”

  I took a generous sip of the whiskey and veered my eyes over to the window. I could hear the wind howling. A storm was brewing outside. Gran seemed to think that a tempest would be over Dilton. It looked more like I caused one wherever I went.