by Sarra Cannon
“I'm here,” a sing-songy voice called from the stairs. “And for the record, I wasn't wrapped up in something frivolous. I remembered a trick my mother taught me about fighting vampires.”
Zara, a fairy-like young girl I'd met once or twice before, descended the last of the steps and held up a small blue bag.
“What's that?” I took a quick step back from her, repelled by the power of whatever she held concealed in her tiny hands.
She smiled. “My secret weapon,” she said. “Mother called them black pearls, but really they are just very small, very concentrated soul stones with a special enchantment on them.”
Black pearls. Dear Lord, this girl was waving them around like they were marbles.
“Get them away from me.” The order came out darker than I intended, but what she held in her hand was extremely dangerous for any vampire. Especially one who had just fed on a witch's blood.
Zara's innocent smile faded from her pale face. She pulled the blue bag tightly against her body. “I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking,” she said. “I've never actually worked on the same side as a vampire. I was just thinking about how useful they might be for tonight.”
I softened. “I didn't mean to scare you,” I said. “They will definitely come in handy tonight. I just don't want them anywhere near me or the others who will soon join us.”
She nodded, her blue eyes wide. “Where should I put them?”
I looked around the room. We needed a more protective box for the black pearls. I'd only had them used on me once, many years ago, but it was an experience I was not keen to repeat any time soon. Or ever.
The black pearls were, as she'd said, small, concentrated soul stones enchanted in such a way that when thrown at the feet of a vampire, they were able to pull the lifeblood's power from their body, leaving them weak and defenseless, completely unable to cast or use magic. The effects of the pearls could last years if powerful enough.
And since Zara was the daughter of one of the original five priestesses of the Order of Shadows, I felt certain the black pearls in her bag were the real deal.
“I think, perhaps, I can be helping with this,” Essex said in his strange accent. “If you have any spare materials around that I might use in weaving, I can make for this, special bags, enchanted, so that the power of these pearls does not escape. I can make one for each of the witches who are needing one.”
I nodded, relaxing. I hadn't realized he was a weaver. “Thank you,” I said. I disappeared upstairs for a moment and returned with straps of extra leather I'd used to make my own potion bags.
Essex took them from me and bowed. “I will get to working on this.”
I thanked him and turned to the rest of the group.
“It's important to anyone here who plans to use them, that you memorize the faces of the vampires on our side. Several members of the Brotherhood of Darkness will be joining us soon. They are taking a great risk fighting one of our own, and I don't want any harm to come to them because one of these pearls was used on them accidentally.”
Zara nodded and wisely went to sit near Essex on the other side of the room, far away from the group gathered near me.
A door opened upstairs and I raised my eyes to see Marco and most of the Venom staff descending toward us.
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked. “I don't want to put any more of my staff at risk. You guys have been through enough.”
Marco lifted his hands. “Do you really expect us to miss out on the greatest battle this world has seen in a while?” His eyes dipped toward Harper. “Well, since Peachville, anyway.”
Harper smiled. “I like this guy.”
Marco reached out to clasp my hand. “We all want to help however we can,” he said sincerely. “You've done so much for us. We're a family, remember? We're all in this together.”
Minutes later, I felt the presence of power enter the room.
My brothers flew down the stairs, streaks of black and white smoke trailing behind them.
Silas was the first to regain his human form. He reached for my hand.
“Brother.”
“Thank you for being here,” I said. “All of you.”
I looked at the group of vampires who had come to fight at my side. Ten demons I had known for more than a century. After tonight, I would forever be in their debt.
Everyone gathered around me, and I knew the time for action had finally come.
“Never before in the history of this world or the next has such a group come together to fight against evil,” I said. “When Solomon was bound to a stone, we mourned his passing, but those of us who knew the great evils he had performed since coming to this world, also knew that his passing was for the best. He and his brother had become addicted to power, not caring who they killed in their quest to obtain it. If Solomon had not been stopped, who knows what might have become of the human world.”
Many of the Brotherhood nodded in agreement. Most of Harper's crew knew nothing of the great evils Solomon and the Devil had done, but they were no strangers to evil and senseless killing.
“Tonight, the Devil has plans to sacrifice a young witch in order to free Solomon's power from the soul stone where he's been trapped for more than twenty years,” I said. Franki's face passed before my eyes and I took a deep breath, praying we were not too late. “This young witch is Solomon's daughter. A woman named Mary Francis. Half crow. Half demon. The power that runs through her veins is dark and powerful, but she is nothing like her father. She does not deserve to die. And we must do everything in our power to make sure the Devil does not follow through with this ritual.”
“What's our plan?” Silas asked.
I pulled a map from one of the leather satchels I'd carried up from the basement laboratory. “While I was working downstairs, I drew up a crude blueprint of the Devil's castle. I know many of the Brotherhood have been there, but this will be the first time for most of the rest of you.”
I spread the map out on the large table in front of the couch and everyone gathered around it in a circle.
“The Devil will likely have guards stationed at every entrance.” I pointed out the four entrances I was aware of—the front door, an old servant's entrance at the back, an underground tunnel through the hills and a hidden half-door on the side. “I think our best bet is to send a pair to each entrance and hit all four at the same time. We'll confuse them and split their defenses. Zara here brought black pearls that used to belong to Priestess Winter of the blue demon gates. If we use the element of surprise to hit the guards at each entrance with these pearls, we can take their power and defeat them very quickly.”
I sensed the fear and discomfort of the other vampires at the mention of the black pearls. Several threw odd glances at Zara.
“An attack like this will mean the witches of the group will have to go in first,” I said. “We'll split you into groups of two. Harper and Mary Anne at the main entrance. Zara and Courtney here at the servant's entrance. Peri, you and Cherish go to the underground tunnel here. Brandy and Kianna, you'll take this half-door.”
The witches all studied the map as I spoke.
“As soon as the attack begins, we'll concentrate the rest of our force here at the back entrance,” I said, pointing to the old servant's entrance. “It's the closest both to the dungeons where Franki is likely being held and to the ritual room where the Devil will be preparing.”
“He'll probably have Solomon's stone there as well,” Silas said.
“Yes,” I said. I looked into his eyes, knowing how difficult this must be for him. “Your primary focus tonight needs to be retrieving that stone, Silas. Do whatever you have to do to get the stone and take it far away from the Devil's castle.”
“If I do manage to get it, what do I do with it?” he asked.
“Destroy it,” I said.
Silas swallowed and his eyes grew dark.
“I know it's difficult, but you're the only one who can do it,” I said. “Destroying the s
tone is the only way to make sure his spirit can never be used for harm.”
Silas nodded slowly. I could see the struggle going on inside him. He'd loved his father. Worshipped him. But that was before he saw what his father was capable of doing I knew destroying the stone would be difficult for him, but I also trusted him to do the right thing.
I went over the rest of the plan as quickly as I could. I had no idea how long Franki had left, but I knew we didn't have a minute to lose.
“There's one more thing,” I said. I walked to the satchel of potions I'd set by the fireplace. I hadn't made enough for everyone, but what we had would have to do.
I handed the red ones to the demons, deep cobalt blue potions to the witches and the purple potions to the vampires, saving one for myself.
“I spent the better part of the day crafting these special potions to give us all heightened senses and clarity,” I said. “Their magic is strong, but the effects won't last long. Two hours at most. Let's pray to the gods we don't need more time than that to put an end to the Devil's plans. Some of you will have to share yours, which will give you even less time. I wasn't expecting such an amazing turnout, but I am grateful to each of you for being here.”
“Cheers,” Mordecai said, lifting his red vial into the air.
“Here's to conquering evil,” Mary Anne said. “One devil at a time.”
Everyone raised their vials to their lips and drank of the potions I'd prepared.
I passed out the rest of the vials from the second satchel. These were mostly bombs and weapons, illusions and tricks. I'd grabbed anything that might be useful in a fight, knowing that even with the thirty of us gathered here, we would still be massively outnumbered.
When everyone was ready, I opened the front door and stared out at the rocky cliffs.
Here's to first love, I thought as I downed my own potion and flew into the darkness.
Never in all my centuries of life had I ever thought of myself as a demon who deserved love. And never had I wanted so badly to have the chance to tell her how desperately I loved her back.
FRANKI
Annabelle
I struggled against sleep, my head pounding. I forced my eyes open. Every inch of my body ached, and darkness threatened to pull me under once more.
I pushed back, refusing to become its slave. I was lucky to have regained consciousness. If I let sleep claim me again, would I ever wake up?
I couldn’t risk the answer being no.
I took several pained breaths, my ribs sore and my lips so dry they cracked when I opened them. I swallowed, but my mouth was a desert.
My head rested against my arm. My numb hands were bound above me, and my weight hung limply from the cold metal clamped around my wrists.
I lifted my head, fighting against the pain. My vision blurred for a moment and my stomach lurched.
The smell of blood and piss invaded my nostrils.
I adjusted my weight, forming my hands into fists to wake them up. My legs ached from being in the same position for a long time. I stretched them out across the stone floor, sucking in a breath as the feeling rushed back into them.
Whatever the Devil had cast on me had left me only half of myself. My awareness was fuzzy, as if I couldn’t quite access all of my brain. How long had I been asleep?
I couldn't tell if it had been hours or days.
Even in my haze, I knew I needed to act quickly.
First, that meant trying to stand up and figure out how the hell I was going to escape. I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths in and out. I calmed the panic that lived just under the surface of my skin and focused instead on finding that spark of power deep inside.
If I had any chance of surviving this night, tapping into that well of energy was my greatest hope.
On the third breath in, I felt a twinge of it, there on the edge of my awareness. Power that sent chills up my arms.
I grabbed hold of it, pulling it up from the depths of darkness and forcing it into the light. I pushed that power through my veins, feeding off it until my skin buzzed with it.
My eyes snapped open, my vision no longer fuzzy and blurred.
For the first time, I got a good look at the room where I was confined. Cell would have been a better name for it. It looked like something out of an old Dracula film. The floor and walls were made of huge gray stones of various sizes. Decades worth of dirt lined the floors. Streaks of blood ran down the walls as if someone had literally tried to claw their way through the stones.
Iron bars locked me inside.
I almost smiled. Was I really so dangerous that one of the most powerful vampires in existence felt the need to knock me out and chain me up inside a cell with iron bars?
Maybe I really was capable of so much more than I realized.
If that was true, I’d better wake up my inner bad-ass before the Devil came back.
Across from me, I could see an identical cell. At first, it looked empty, but when I looked away, movement caught the corner of my eye.
I turned back and squinted. There, in the shadows, stood a young girl. She couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old. My lips parted. What kind of monster would imprison a child?
I pulled my feet under me and pushed my back against the stone wall. My muscles were weakened and quivering, but with the support of the wall, I was finally on my feet.
I lowered my arms, my hands pulsing as the blood rushed back into them. My head spun and I had to close my eyes again and take several deep breaths. I waited, letting my blood redistribute itself through my body, concentrating on that tiny spark of power still lit inside my core. That spark was all that mattered right now. Not the pain or the discomfort. Not the hunger that gnarled at my stomach. Nothing else mattered but the power.
When I felt better, I rolled my shoulders out, my joints cracking.
Okay, I was up. Now what?
I turned my attention to the chains and shackles that held me to the wall. There had to be a way out.
There was just enough give in the chains when I was standing to allow me to move a few steps forward and to each side. I moved carefully, testing my boundaries without making much sound.
The chains rattled slightly, and I slowed, making very deliberate movements.
I had enough space to turn around and study the way the chains were embedded into the wall. I reached up and pulled on them, knowing it would be way too easy if I could just pull them off.
The thick links of chain were hooked to a metal plate bolted into the stone. The metal looked old and rusted in some places, covered with dirt and blood in others, but it was sturdy and strong, showing no signs of give or damage.
I looked over and saw the child in the opposite cell staring at me. She had moved closer to the front now, her small hands grasping the iron as her head rested against the bars.
She didn't seem to have any chains around her arms or legs, like I did.
Of course, her wrists were so skinny, she could have just slipped out of any chains.
I twisted my wrists around inside the shackles to see if I could possibly wiggle my hands through, but it was no use. The metal shackles were way too freaking tight. Even if I dislocated my thumb, I’d never be able to pull free.
Maybe I could use magic to get them off.
I didn't know much about how to control my magical powers, but what I'd done so far had mostly come instinctively. So, what did I know about magic? I knew how to do glamours, but a glamour would only hide or cover things, it couldn’t actually change the substance of them.
When I got angry or emotional, I could control or manipulate the wind, but even a tornado wouldn’t get me out of these chains unless I managed to bring the whole damn building down. Which would kill me and everyone down here. That might be a good option if I was totally out of others, but I wasn’t ready to choose suicide over impending ritual sacrifice just yet.
Wind wasn’t the answer.
Women in my family were all supp
osed to be able to shift into the form of a crow. I’d seen both Mary Anne and my mother do it, but I had no idea how to make myself shift.
Still, it was worth a shot. If I became a crow, the chains would slide right off. I might even be able to fly through the iron bars of my cell and find a window.
Hope lifted my heart.
I could do this.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I concentrated on the warm spark of energy inside me. Like when I'd used a glamour to change my eye color, I used the power of my imagination. I imagined myself turning into a crow. I pictured sleek, black wings spreading from my back as my body grew smaller. I pictured a beak and dark feathers. I imagined myself slipping from the chains and flying free.
But nothing happened.
Frustrated, I opened my eyes and balled my hands into fists. How hard could this be, really? If everyone—even a teenage girl like Mary Anne—could do this, surely I could do it, too. It was part of my heritage. I was a crow witch.
There had to be some trick to it that I wasn’t getting.
I turned and leaned my back against the stone wall for support. I raised my arms to the side as if they were wings and closed my eyes. I calmed the panic and fear in my chest as best I could and tried again.
The spark of power in my core spread outward like fingers of energy, reaching toward my arms and legs. I imagined that energy blossoming, changing me from the inside out.
But something held me back.
I couldn’t explain it or put my finger on it exactly, but I knew something was wrong. It was as if my magic had been muzzled.
“You can't cast magic in here, if that's what you're trying to do,” a small voice said in a slight British accent.
I opened one eye and peered over at the child in the opposite cell. “Why not?”
She shrugged. “Don't know. You just can't,” she said. “No one can but them.”
“Them who?”
She looked to her left, as if making sure no one was listening. “The vampires,” she said in a whisper.
I bit the inside of my lip. No magic. That was definitely not good news.
