by Aneesa Price
Sophie placated her, “It’s okay. He knows.” Anais’ brows hadn’t quite lowered so she carried on with her explanation, “When he gave you his blood, it linked with you – not the way vampires link with prey,” she spelled out, “you linked magickally – the way only witches can.”
Sophie sent Conall a mental message to tread carefully, her face stoic so Anais could not pick up on the interaction in her agitated state. “Anais doesn’t trust being different and others knowing of it. She’s learnt the hard way, not to stick out – but that’s her story to tell you. Trust me when I say that it wasn’t pretty.”
Disgust made his lips tighten and his blood churn. The Vampire Council and its power-hungry leader, Yves, had a lot to answer for. He believed that being magickal, embracing that gift, should be liberating. He couldn’t understand the pain that someone would have to be subjected to so that you felt you had to hide it. He re-established the mental connection with Sophie and conveyed his strategy, “She doesn’t trust me, so there’s no point addressing those fears now. For now, I’m sticking to the facts. You know her, will that do?” When Sophie nodded her ascent, he faced Anais and said out loud, “I tried to detect the source of the magick, to read the spell that I thought had been cast against you.”
Crossing the room, Conall sat on the side of the bed next to Sophie, Anais’ legs brushing against his. Dragging his hand through his hair in remembered frustration, he further explained, “I should’ve been able to detect not only the spell but the caster too. As Prince I have that in my power. But I couldn’t pick up a thing. Because of the link created between you and I with the blood transfusion, Niul suggested that maybe it wasn’t a magickal attack but something happening inside you, something magickal. You had to – have to,” he corrected, “be a witch.”
Bells clanged in alarm in Anais’ mind. Still linked to her, Sophie picked up on that and hurried to continue the re-telling of the previous night’s events. “You were so close to death, cher.” Sophie took Anais’ limp hand in hers, gently squeezing it in reassurance. “We couldn’t risk losing you. You’re more than our maker; you’re our friend, our sister and though your humility does not acknowledge it, you’re the glue that binds us as a family. Our secret means nothing without all of us present and without you, we’d all be at odds with nothing to hold us together. The others all agreed and we divulged our secrets to them. We had to choose - do that or watch you die.”
Anais had a million questions running through her mind but her blasted mouth was staying fucking shut! She let herself mentally scream in frustration and drank the blood Sophie continued to feed her, resolve that her energy and strength would return soon enough for her to have her answers.
“It was the right thing to do, Anais.” Conall came closer to her and looked at her squarely, openly, guessing at the frustration she must be feeling. “The information that Sophie related cleared the confusion we had from observing you. We debated and the theory that became more plausible was that you were being over-taken by your powers.”
Still drinking, Anais had no choice but to let him continue drone on about what happened. He did seem to be sincerely worried about her. Odd, she thought, that the arrogant witch was now a caring and peculiarly protective one. Gulping down the last of the blood in the third glass offered by Sophie, she felt less feeble.
Pain still gnawed incessantly at her but her confusion compelled her to speak, “But my vampire powers have been with me for nearly two hundred years. What could possibly be over-taking me in that?” Pondering the conundrum, she looked at Sophie for confirmation of the insensibility of the situation and found none. Sophie was looking at Conall to rescue her from the clarification Anais sought from her, so Anais did the same and cast her gaze at the handsome witch.
Anais forced herself to speak through the pain. “My second century anniversary is pending and I know that vampire powers increase every century, a magickal birthday gift of sorts but I’ve never heard of anything like this happening to an older vampire before. So, I don’t understand.”
Conall winced at the rawness in her voice – it was devoid of the husky sexiness that characterized her natural tone of voice. She was in a lot of pain and far from strong enough for this. Being a leader though, she’d want answers and he could respect that. He could also understand her incredulity. Goddess knew he was stumped by it too!
“In all history,” he began, “there is nothing to indicate that what happened to you is the result of your pending birthday. If you look at the picture, it seems that he witch’s magick that you’d been banished from France for is still evident. Unlike the others, whose powers were released when they turned, yours is still bound. Bound magick has to find a way out or eat at the person it is locked inside of. Yours has been locked inside you for two centuries, so it’s killing you from inside.”
“Why would such powers try to break free now?”
“We’re unsure why. It’s perplexing for me too. As prince, I should know all there is to witch magick.” Anais and Sophie sent him eye-rolls. He waved the assumption of arrogance that they made away with a shake of his head and offered, “When a royal witch becomes of age, the witch not only matures in their powers but matures in their knowledge of the witching community. Witches serve humanity through healing, knowledge and serving the Goddess to maintain the balance of the elements. Above all we live by the tenant, ‘First Harm None’. When royal witches form links to other witches we come in contact with or know of, we automatically gain the knowledge of their history and magickal abilities. We develop the ability to use our powers for other witches to protect and guide them and against rouge witches so that we may correct them and persecute them if required. It is our Goddess-given gift and responsibility to ensure that the witch community remains vital and adheres to our code of ethics.”
“But you can’t link with us?” Anais sat up a bit more, fortified by further blood. “And in your believe that not only they, but I, have witch magick confounds you?”
“Well, yes, but only because this situation is unique. But we’ll figure it out.”
“But you had your suspicions?” Anais probed.
“We noticed that you were all different. We are trained to identify vampires so that we can be on guard in case we need to protect ourselves. We sensed the vampire in you but there was something different that we couldn’t detect. We considered that it was perhaps linked to Miss Suzette with her voodoo magick and that you all could be slightly altered by her integration into your household. You do eat her food, live with her and from the voodoo charms we’ve sensed around the property, you accept her craft.”
“I’m impressed by your deductive skills, Conall. We’ve lived amongst many creatures, human and other, over the decades that had no idea what secrets we held.” Anais commented. She was also chagrined that they’d picked up so much even with all the precautions she’d taken.
“Now we know that there is witch magick in your sisters, we need to explore the magick in you to seek answers to what is troubling you. With the permission of your sisters, I’ve asked for assistance from my sisters who’ve agreed to make the trip here from our home in Ireland. They’re very powerful witches and have added to our Goddess-given knowledge through dedicated and continuous study of our magick. If anyone can help then it is them.”
Anais’ lips twisted wryly in grudged appreciation – she still didn’t know how she felt about them knowing their secrets. “What does your knowledge of us mean for your alliance with Yves?”
“It’s quite ironic. You are the alliance. You and your sisters are physical manifestations of the alliance – proof that witch and vampire can get along and co-exist. Because of your witch half and because I am Prince of Witches, I’m at least half responsible for all of you. So, to answer your unasked question… No, I won’t divulge your secret to Yves. We’ve already made an agreement to keep each other informed of the situation with Yves and the alliance so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that I don’t t
rust him. Divulging your secrets wouldn’t benefit you or I.”
Conall got up from the bed and moved towards the door. He noticed that Anais’ curiosity was over-riding her apprehension - he could all but see her mental synapses working furiously as they formed new speculations – and it wasn’t going to heal her any quicker.
Time for her to rest, he mentally agreed with Sophie and stated, “That’s enough of the vampire witch alliance and theories on your witch abilities for now. We have a more urgent need to get you to full strength so that you can explore your magickal ability. As I said, my sisters will be arriving shortly. They’re being inconspicuous, so they’re teleporting in to a location close-by. Sylvain and I will go and meet them and bring them here. Rose has kindly offered to prepare rooms for them.”
He smiled grimly, and even in his tired state and her weakened one, it did things to her insides. “Speaking of sisters, yours are anxious to see you. Sophie also needs to give you more blood so you can build your strength. When my sisters arrive, you’ll need it.”
His expression was serious and made Anais wary, “Anais, my sisters will be able to help but the work will be yours to do. It will be one of the hardest things you’ll need to do in your lifetime. Don’t underestimate the strength you’ll need to do this.”
The myriad of questions she was about to bombard them with was effectively dismissed when her sisters entered the room. Faces anxious, they cautiously approach the bed, Miss Suzette carrying a groaning tray laden with both nasty-smelling remedies and irresistible, her version of curative Cajun food.
Chapter 12
Anais lay on her back with closed eyes and tried to focus on the spell being cast by Conall’s sisters. They’d said it so often, it was starting to become like one of those catchy songs you disliked but that got stuck in your head the more you heard it.
We call on the gate of the East,
With your Air comes release
We call on the gate of the West,
With your Fire burn what is bound with zest
We call on the gate of the South,
Let Water wash away what is loath
We call on the gate of the North,
With Earth bury the bindings so she may go forth
Goddess we ask of thee,
Help us set her magick free,
What was sealed is now released
What was bound now is freed
As we will, so mote it be
“Enough!” Anais dragged in long breaths of air, daring her heart to stop pounding. She felt as though she’d literally been put through the wringer – it was becoming an unwelcome theme in her life lately. She took in her sweat-drenched loose summer dress. For once, the Louisiana heat wasn’t responsible for the perspiration, hours of working at unbinding her magick were. She’d been at it nearly non-stop for the past two days and even her vampire stamina was being tested by the endurance the witch magick required. Drat Conall for being right when he warned her!
As soon as the three sisters had arrived, they’d begun working at unbinding the magick. After today, she was beginning to doubt that there was any magick to unlock, except that the three sisters had confirmed what Conall had said and then there was the lack of explanation as to why she did not follow the usual vampire’s nocturnal pattern of living and instead followed that of a human, etc. etc., she thought churlishly.
Eyes challenging, she looked at her three tormentors when she came around the screen into the main part of the small room. “I need a break, a human one. I need to catch my breath, freshen up, have a glass of iced tea and sleep!” She realised that she was shouting and lowered her voice, willing herself to ignore the knowing smirk coming from Cruella, the name she’d secretly given to Conall’s one sister. She was a beautiful red-haired witch with blue eyes like her brothers and strong, bold features that told of past times as a warrior. The witch was also a slave-driver.
It dawned on Anais that it made their practice ground all the more appropriate. They were in one of the slave quarters that had not yet been converted into accommodation. The dwelling had been ear-marked for the second phase of the restoration of the slave homes and dwellings that littered the far right side of the plantation estate. As the wedding and event business grew, they were steadily converting building on the plantation to accommodation to serve the needs of their growing customer base. The dwelling was a relic from Anais’ early days in New Orleans when she had arrived as an anxious bride all the way from Rouen in France. Anais shrugged away the memories of her shock at how her late husband had abused the slaves – especially the women and young girls.
The slave quarters, a rickety wooden structure on stilts with a simple, small porch, had instead been transformed into a witches lair. Or her torture chamber, reflected Anais. It was now a warm room, filled with magickal energy, furnished with a magickal relics and tomes brought over from Ireland by the witch sisters. Miss Suzette had insisted on cleansing the dwelling alongside the sisters before Anais could set a foot inside it. The result was that voodoo gris-gris merrily mingled with witch tools of the trade in fascinating harmony.
Enormous wax candles, conjured by magic, flickered pure and bright in between the sisters, illuminating their surreal beauty in the bayou night. They were beautiful, Anais acknowledged and they had admirable hearts - they had come from their home, half way across the globe so that they could assist her.
“Ah, so I’m not Cruella so much then.” Fianna looked squarely at Anais her blue eyes, a replica of her brothers, sparkling like moonlight on the Mediterranean at night, her rosy lips pulled tight as she fought the laughter knocking at her it.
Sheepishly, Anais guiltily inclined her head in apology at the red-headed witch. “I’m sorry. I know you’re only helping me but it is frustrating to not have achieved anything yet” Drat! She’d forgotten that these were powerful witches who could read minds and were probably reading her mind now too!
At that thought, Fianna burst out laughing, unable to contain it a moment longer. “I push hard. I know this, so don’t be worrying about taking it out on me. I want you to.” At Anais’ bewildered look, Fianna continued, “Any witch facing the unbinding of her magick needs courage and you have a more binding spell than any we’ve ever seen. You will need that fire that you throw at me but you need to throw it at the binding, not me.”
“Thanks,” Anais responded sarcastically.
“I can see why my brother’s carrying a torch for you,” laughed Ida, flipping her golden locks over her shoulder so they cascaded down her flowing yellow and gold dress, melting into it. Their laughter rolled out at Anais’ blush.
“And there’s our answer. Our newest member has feelings for our Conall too.” Ida observed.
“Aye, that she does. And I think she’d be feeling tired too!” Brigid cut her a break. She tipped her head in Anais’ direction, her riot of glossy brown curls swaying in sync to the movement of her head, an enchanting contrast to the cerulean blue dress that she wore. “She’s had all that she can take today. And so have we. We should go rest and start afresh at dawn.”
“I agree,” quipped Ida. “We all need to rest. Not just Anais. I feel like we’re going around in circles here. I will seek guidance in sleep. Perhaps a visit to the Goddess will shed some light.”
“You visited the Goddess in your dreams last night, Ida and she was as cryptic as ever.” Fianna reminded her sister gently. “Do you think she’ll be more forthcoming tonight?”
“Maybe,” shrugged Ida in response, “maybe not… but a try is worth it.”
Anais observed the triplets. They were a strange unit of differing looks and personalities that melded together naturally; like her and her vampire sisters. Anais knew that vampire magick enhanced their human born looks and rendered them beautiful. Witch magick must have the same effect because the sisters were breath-taking. Fianna was all fire and courage, a woman as bold and fiery as the deep, red of her hair. Conall had told her that Fianna had the power to influence all liv
ing and dead creatures, though not undead. She had a warrior’s strength and vigor, a testament to her lineage. Brigid was warm, compassionate and invitingly maternal. She could control all four of the elements strongly and equally well. This in itself, she’d learnt, was a rarity and a gift Brigid had inherited from the line of royal witch sisters that had been part of the triplets they descended from. In contrast (and much like her Sophie, Anais mused) Ida embodied etherealness. She possessed the ability to travel in other planes, other supernatural worlds and could perform a long list of mind-witch magick that made Anais gape in awe.
Their conversation about contacting the Goddess was drawing to a close. Anais inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, happily anticipating the crisp, cool sheets that lined her bed. “Merci, see you at dawn.”
“Not so fast, Anais,” Brigid halted her before she could step out of the circle. “We need to open the circle.”
“Sorry, forgot.” Anais slumped back down in the middle of the circle. God, will this day ever end? She was so tired that she’d completely forgotten about the knife, or athame, as they referred to the blunt, antique knife with its black handle carved with ancient Celtic writings. Though she tried to, she could barely concentrate as the sisters, in chorus, thanked the God and Goddess and elements and used the athame to cut the circle open. As soon as it was done, she mumbled her thanks and she hurried out the door before they changed their mind.
Conall was sitting on the steps of the slave cabin, waiting for her as he’d been the previous night. He said that he was lingering nearby just in case he was needed to help his sisters. Anais did not believe his white lie. She smelled the desire coming off him in waves whenever she neared him, felt his blood quicken and with vampire senses could feel the blood rush to concentrate in the vicinity of his crotch. The mental images that bit of knowledge conjured were tantalizing.
