by F. E. Heaton
"Prophecy—” he started.
"I have to go and check on Valentine,” she said, cutting him off and heading directly for the door.
He watched her go, flinched when she slammed the door behind her, and then collapsed back onto the bed.
He sucked in a breath and sighed it out. Some things deserved a sigh.
He stroked his neck, closing his eyes and replaying the feeling of her moist tongue against his flesh.
A smile crept onto his lips.
That was definitely one of them.
* * * *
Prophecy turned another page, read the words written on it, and then moved onto the next. Nothing she'd read so far looked as though it was the kind of spell that would help Valentine. She cocked her head to one side and looked at the spine of the book. She was a third of the way through it now and the night had become day, and was again turning to night. She tapped her fingers impatiently on her desk and looked at Valentine.
He was getting worse. Her magic was only holding him for three hours at most now, and it was taking more of her power to make him sleep in the first place. She was losing him.
Rubbing her face and her sore eyes, she tried to push the tiredness out of her body. She closed the book and leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on Valentine. He was lying on his back on the bed, his hands folded across his stomach. She'd put his black jacket back on him. She didn't know why. It made him look like a prince charming, sent to sleep for a thousand years and waiting for his princess to wake him with a kiss. Only it was a kiss that had sent him to sleep. Something as simple as one wasn't going to cure him.
Standing, she walked across the room, opening the curtains and the window so the night air came in and soothed her. She sat next to Valentine, her eyes roaming his face. He looked so peaceful and calm. His expression was soft with sleep. It made him even more handsome. Lying down beside him, she curled one arm under her head and rolled onto her side so she was facing him. She brought her knees up and blinked slowly.
It was so easy for her to forget how much danger he was in when he looked as though he was just sleeping deeply. It made her feel as though she had all the time in the world to find a way to stop the spell Elena had cast on him. She reminded herself that she didn't.
Once the spell was complete, he'd leave her, just like Caden had said.
A tiny voice at the back of her mind suggested that she should kill Valentine. If the only alternative was to have him fighting against her, she was better off killing him.
She frowned and stared at the corner of Valentine's mouth as it twitched.
She couldn't do that. Even the thought of killing him made her die a little inside. It made all of her marks hurt, setting them off in a dull ache that throbbed into the very depths of her bones.
She'd never kill him.
She'd let him kill her first.
After all, she'd promised him that she'd never let it get that far. Her vision about him dying wouldn't come true, and neither would the vision she'd had of him running her through with a sword. She wasn't going to let anything happen to him. Even if Elena's spell did take him away from her, she knew in her heart that he would continue to fight it.
And she'd continue to find a way to counter it.
There was no way on Earth that Elena was taking him away from her for good.
She placed her hand over his where they were resting on his stomach and curled her fingers around so she was holding them.
Sighing out her breath, she let sleep take her.
She opened her eyes and frowned when she saw the darkness surrounding her. She was standing in the middle of nothing under what seemed to be a distant spotlight. Wherever she walked, the dim light followed her, making everything around her black.
She turned on the spot and slid into her vampire guise, hoping it would help her see into the darkness. Nothing stood out in it. It was as though she was surrounded by infinite inky blackness. She could walk for miles and not find a thing, not even the wall.
A chill breeze crept around her ankles, and she shook her leg when it felt as though it was swirling about it, crawling up the length of her body. She rubbed her arms when the cold air reached them, sucking what tiny trace of heat there was from her body.
Shivering on the spot, she looked at her amulet and saw the stone was darkest blood red.
"Valentine,” she breathed his name and wondered just where she was.
The temperature was still falling and it was beginning to make her sleepy. It was as cold as the home of the Three now.
She squinted when a little green light danced in the distance. It was tiny, flitting about like a glow worm. As it got closer, it started to take on a shape. She rushed towards it when she recognised her.
"Shh, child,” the soft feminine voice said and it brought tears to her eyes to hear it.
Her mother stopped a few feet from her and gave her a look that made her heart ache.
"I know the pain you feel as though it was my own. To lose the man you love ... it is something I never wanted you to experience,” her mother said.
Prophecy dropped her gaze to her feet and sighed. “I won't lose him. Tell me there's a counter spell."
Her mother moved closer. Prophecy shuddered when her mother's fingers touched under her chin, raising her head so she was looking at her again.
"Do not be scared, my child. There is always a counter spell. You will find it, in time."
"In time?” Prophecy said and her heart sank. “So I won't find it before Elena's command of him is complete."
"I did not say that.” Her mother smiled.
"No, you didn't, but that's what's going to happen. He's slipping away and I can't work fast enough to find the right spell. My Latin isn't that good and I have to use dictionaries to translate the other languages. It's taking me too long to read through the book."
"You have opened it then. I knew that you would.” Her mother drifted away, spinning in slow motion as though she was dancing.
"I didn't do it,” Prophecy said.
Her mother stopped and looked at her. It was the first time that Prophecy had seen her frown. She was looking at Prophecy's chest.
"But the star is gone."
"Why didn't you tell me where to find the key? Why? I could have found the spell by now. I wasted so much time because of you!"
Prophecy started to walk away but her mother shimmered into life in front of her, blocking her path. She didn't know where she was going to go anyway. The only way out of here was waking up, and she felt so tired that she knew that wouldn't happen any time soon.
"I am not allowed to tell you such things."
"Like you can't tell me what spell will save Valentine? I know that you know which one to use. He told me as much.” She held her mother's gaze, taking in how confused she looked.
"Valentine?"
Prophecy stepped towards her, unsure of whether she should tell her mother what had been happening. Her mother seemed so happy sometimes—dancing and smiling. Would she ruin that if she told her?
"Not Valentine. It was someone else."
"The young Italian?” Her mother smiled brightly and Prophecy got the feeling that she was being teased about her feelings for the two men.
"He's not young. He's a thousand years old, mother. And no, not him either.” Prophecy looked away from her, unwilling to see the pain she was going to cause by saying what she had to. She had to know if it was true. “My father."
There was silence and when she risked a look at her mother, she was staring blankly into the distance, her face pale and lifeless.
"Caden?” her mother whispered.
Prophecy nodded but her mother continued to stare into the nothingness so she spoke. “Yes. He's almost killed me twice now, and Valentine has almost killed him countless times. If it wasn't for the fact that Valentine saw their fights as nothing more than a game, Caden would be dead and I would still be trying to find a way into the book. He recognised the star I
wear. It's yours apparently. I never knew."
"Iona would have told you, I am sure, but Arkalus didn't give her the chance.” Her mother hesitated and then looked at her. “Is Caden with you?"
"He came with me to see if he could help Valentine. He is still at the mansion, though he will have to leave soon or I won't be able to protect him. My family will only tolerate him for so long. Why didn't you tell him about me?"
Her mother looked away again.
"Is it because he would have stopped you?” Prophecy said and moved around her mother until she was standing in front of her.
Her mother nodded and sighed. “I did what I had to. It was my destiny. It does not mean it didn't hurt me to do it."
"I know what you mean.” Prophecy looked at the amulet and saw it was glowing brighter now. Fiery red danced in the depths of the stone. “I don't care what my destiny says, I'm not killing Valentine. I've seen him with me at the final battle."
"Then it is not your destiny to kill him. You will save him."
The vision of her mother started to fade.
"Don't go yet. I've still got so many questions."
Her mother smiled. “Remember ... I'm just a memory ... I tell you only what your heart already knows."
Prophecy frowned when she was left alone in the darkness. She looked up at the dim light above her. It was about time she woke up. Sitting here being frightened of her future was going to get her nowhere.
Fluttering her eyes open, she smiled at Valentine. He was looking at her. His green eyes were heavy and full of sleep, and it brought tears into hers to see them back to their normal state. She shifted closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and running her fingers through the shorter hair at the back of his head. She sighed into his eyes and stroked his cheek. His eyelids slowly closed, as though they were too heavy for him to keep open any longer.
Sitting up a little, she brought her right hand over his heart and sent him back to sleep.
"I'm sorry,” she whispered as the tears slipped down onto her cheeks. “I wish I could find a way to help you."
She pressed a kiss to his forehead and then padded quietly across the room to the book. Opening it, she flicked through until she reached the last spell she'd read and then moved onto the next.
Her eyes scanned the pages with renewed hope. Her mother had said the cure was in the book and she was going to find it. Nothing was going to stop her. She wasn't going to let Elena take Valentine and she wasn't going to let Elena hurt anyone else she cared about it.
The door flew open and her head shot up to see who it was.
Serenity's eyes were wide with panic. She looked pale and there was blood on her hands.
"What's wrong?” Prophecy said, her gut twisting and fear clenching her heart.
"There's werewolves in the lobby and a woman ... she's ... I've never seen anyone so badly hurt."
Her stomach dropped and ice entered her veins.
"Mia."
Chapter 15
Prophecy ran down the hall, leaving Serenity lagging behind. She grabbed the banister as she reached the top of the stairs and vaulted over it. Dropping to the ground, she sprung to her feet and bolted towards the lobby. When she got there, a young female Caelestis was cleaning the blood off the floor.
"Where?” Prophecy shouted at her. The girl pointed shakily towards the study.
Prophecy turned and sprinted towards the door. She pushed it open so hard that it slammed against the wall and her eyes darted about the room, searching for Mia. Two wall lamps behind her and the fire in the grate lit the room just enough for her not to have to use her heightened senses in order to see. In the shadows at the back of the room were shifting shapes. Their scent told her that they were werewolves. She could make out eleven signatures.
Her eyes stopped when they found the broad back of Dmitri. He was kneeling beside one of the chairs near the fireplace. Venturi was standing next to him.
"Mia!” she said and hurried across the room. The smell of blood hung heavily in the air, and specks of the crimson liquid marked a path from the door to the chair.
Dmitri moved to one side as she approached. Her eyes widened when she saw Mia. Her face was bloodied and cut, deep ragged gashes lining her left cheek. She was holding her arm tightly and Prophecy could see the sleeve of her top was torn and soaked with blood.
"Prophecy ... I—"
"Not now, Dmitri.” She cut him off, knowing what he was going to say. She'd forgiven him long ago for what he'd done. Besides, this wasn't about him. She was here because of Mia.
She knelt down in front of Mia and gave her a sorry smile.
Checking her over, she could see that her left arm was severely injured. There was blood all over it, seeping from wounds that looked as though she'd been bitten, but not by a vampire. These wounds were ragged, as though whatever had done it had torn chunks out of her flesh.
They were deep too.
Deep enough that Mia was losing too much blood to heal herself. If she didn't heal soon, she would die.
"Mia?” She looked up into the Venia's face. Behind the layer of blood and dirt, she could make out black bruises. Mia's mouth opened, drawing Prophecy's attention to the fact that her lip was split and swollen, but she didn't say anything. Prophecy looked at Venturi and Dmitri. Both men were pale, as though they were staring at the very presence of death rather than a woman who just needed to heal.
Taking hold of Mia's hand, she held it tightly and smiled when Mia looked at her.
"This is going to hurt. I'm sorry, but there's no other way,” she said and Mia nodded weakly. Prophecy turned to Venturi. “Get him and his men out of here and keep him out until I come for him."
Venturi immediately turned to Dmitri and took hold of his arm. Dmitri tried to pull it free of the Tenebrae's grasp, but stopped when Venturi growled at him. She gave Dmitri a look that she hoped was reassuring and then returned her attention to Mia.
When she heard the door close and sensed they were alone, she held Mia's hand a little tighter, pressing the stone of the amulet into it. She could feel the blood on her skin. The smell of it was driving her insane with hunger.
Taking a deep breath, she looked straight into Mia's eyes and held her gaze.
"Ready?” she said and before Mia could respond, she called the magic. It was going to take a lot to heal Mia, possibly more than she had left after having to repeatedly cast a sleeping spell on Valentine.
She clenched her jaw, steeling herself against the pain that tore through her until she felt as though the magic was transferring all of Mia's wounds to herself. Her hands shook where they clasped Mia's, and she struggled to keep her focus as her head began to throb, making her skull feel as though it was too small for her brain. Mia screamed when Prophecy held her hand tighter, willing the magic to work quicker. She didn't let go when Mia tried to take her hand away. Instead she moved the grip of her left hand up to Mia's forearm, effectively putting an end to any chance of escape that Mia had had. She watched Mia's flesh knitting beneath her fingers, the deep tears gradually closing as the magic worked to speed the healing process.
Mia roared at her and went to hit her with her free hand. Prophecy grabbed it before it reached her and forced it against Mia's chest, pinning her against the back of the chair. She growled at Mia, telling her not to move, and raised her eyes to her face again. The cut on Mia's lip disappeared and the dark bruise under her eye faded as the deep gashes on her cheek closed.
When Mia's skin was smooth again, all of the wounds gone and only the blood left behind, Prophecy let go of her hand.
She sat back on her heels and waited.
Mia's eyes slowly opened and she looked at her arm with an air of disbelief.
Prophecy smiled at her and stood up, giving Mia a moment to gather herself and recover from the pain of being healed so quickly. Prophecy stood still for a few seconds, her knees trembling and her whole body shaking with fatigue. It had taken almost every last ounce of her strengt
h to heal Mia. She needed blood to heal her body and a long, peaceful sleep to bring back her strength, but she knew that although she could easily get the former, the latter wouldn't be coming anytime soon.
She went to the door and opened it. Dmitri pushed past her and she watched him rush to Mia's side. She smiled at the way his hands fluttered about her, his expression full of worry and relief at the same time. Her smile faded when she remembered that not everyone could be healed so easily and she looked up at the ceiling, her thoughts with Valentine. She wished she could heal him like she'd healed Mia. Lowering her gaze, she looked straight into the rich blue eyes of Venturi.
"You look tired,” he said, his voice gruff and quiet.
"That's because I am.” She leaned heavily against the doorframe for support and sighed. “The magic is draining me. I need blood to heal, but have no time to get it ... I need to keep searching."
"Still no luck?"
She stared at his boots and cursed them for reminding her of Valentine. Sometimes Valentine and Venturi were so alike that it scared her, other times they were so different. Her eyes roamed up Venturi's dark trousers and shifted across to his hand when it came into view. He had his fist clenched, a sure sign that he didn't really want to ask about Valentine. He wanted to comfort her, to reach out and touch her, and the only way he could stop himself was to ball his hands into fists and keep them fixed at his sides.
She wanted to reach out and touch one, wanted to see what he'd do if she did. Would he give up the fight and surrender to his desire to comfort her, or would he step away and place more distance between them? It was hard to tell sometimes how he'd react.
