Witchfire

by Cyrese Covelli

  "What makes you think he's doing any of this for you?” His words were hot against my face. "You have a powerful magic inside of you and Warlocks are known to be collectors of such magic.” He shook me a little with each word he spoke. "You think this is an act of kindness…of charity? Warlocks know nothing of kindness. They know only power. Power of magic. Power over those who possess it. Daray will try to rip your magic from you and if he cannot then he will try to conquer you, to possess you and he'll control your power that way."

  Elliot tore his hands away from me and paced around me in a mad march. I gaped at him, not knowing what to say. I couldn't help but feel there was truth to his words.

  "What am I supposed to do?” My eyes were blurry with unshed tears. "They say they can help me get Gemma. For God's sake! What- am I supposed to sit on my butt until the vampires decide to hand her over? And it's not like you're offering to help me get her back. What makes you talk so badly of them when you won't do a damned thing to help my sister? To help me?"

  "I am the vampires' prisoner! As I have been for centuries. Do you have any idea how much of my power was drained when I fought my way you in your dream? To come to you now, I have depleted my power to the point where I can be destroyed. I've shifted time itself to give you this warning. Don't you understand why I've done this? Why I've come?"

  Elliot caught me in his arms and pressed his lips against mine. I surprised myself by kissing him back, soft movements at first. Then, my lips moved against his with a fervent hunger I hadn't known I possessed. I pulled away, our breath puffing against our faces in ragged gasps.

  "I have lived for centuries and no woman has ever touched me as you have. No other face has ever caused my very soul to alight. You, Ascher, are my destiny.” I didn't know what to say to that.

  "I like you, too.” His head snapped back and he laughed like I'd just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He tilted my chin up until I met his chocolate brown eyes and kissed my forehead. "Be careful, tonight. I will do what I can to help you, but if I'm too weak from Time-shifting use this.” Elliot slipped the bloodstone ring he'd given me in my dream over the ring finger of my left hand and brushed his lips against my palm. His body disappeared into shadow and the room shifted back into action like someone had pressed un-pause.

  "…should know about vampires is how to kill them,” Daray continued speaking, his hands digging through the contents of the leather bag. "Now…” He narrowed his eyes at me and my heart flip-flopped. "Why are you all the way over there?” He asked.

  "I was, uh…” Think, Ascher, Think! "Going to pet Cadmus,” I said, my hand pointing stupidly at the fluffy white cat.

  "Later. I need you to focus right now," he said. I sat down next to Fawne who was crossing her eyes at me.

  "All work and no play make Prince Daray a dull boy.” I smiled at her Stephen King reference.

  "Now, Ascher. Tell me what can kill a vampire,” Daray said. I bit my lip. What could kill a vampire depended on what movie, book or TV show you consulted.

  "Well, it varies. Sunlight, fire, beheading and the removal and destruction of the heart always seem to work,” I said. Well, well Princey looked impressed.

  "You've hunted vampires before…?” Daray asked.

  "No, I've watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer before."

  "You've trained with a slayer, then?” My mouth dropped open and he actually laughed. "I caught the King reference as well.” Fawne's face was a mask of fright.

  Heaven help me, but I was beginning to warm-up to the Warlock-Schmuck.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Rogue Witch

  An hour later, I was back in the poofy black dress and the limousine. Daray was busy going over some last minute "rescue details" with Rigel. I knew we were making a stop to pick someone else, but nothing about who they were. I guess Daray felt like I'd been asking too many questions because he'd threatened to bind me, which had, of course, just pissed me off. I "accidentally" singed his shirtsleeve and he hadn't said a word to me since.

  Just as I started to coax some details out of Fawne, the car stopped and Rigel climbed out of the car. I now knew we were meeting a rogue-witch who had not yet agreed to help rescue Gemma. She'd refused to agree to help over the phone and had insisted Daray make an appearance. The witch was wary of warlocks. I wondered what type of power she had that allowed her to order the Warlock Prince around without fear of getting zapped.

  Daray followed Rigel outside and I heard Daray's curse. He climbed back into the car and crossed his arms across his chest. He had the look of a little boy who just been grounded.

  "Is there a problem, Sir?” Fawne asked.

  "The meeting place is supposed to be somewhere hidden, secured and private,” Daray said.

  "And?” Fawne had a knack for getting right to the point.

  "Take a look for yourself.” Fawne made her way to the door and pushed the button to lower the window. Rigel popped his head through the opening.

  "I'm sorry, Prince Daray. I asked for the meeting to be at the warehouse or The Equinox, but was told she wanted a public place. Because, well – you know,” Rigel said.

  "In case the big, scary warlocks try anything,” I said. I was getting used to the fact that the Warlocks seemed to be the supernatural scapegoat.

  "A public place was agreed upon, but this…this is…” Daray was at a loss for words. Yep. The obnoxious, know-it-all Prince of the Warlocks was speechless.

  "It's a coffee shop, your Grace,” Fawne said. She opened the door and held her hand out to help me out of the car. I smiled at the huge green sign bearing the name of the well-known coffee chain. It was the most normal thing I'd seen in two days and I was glad for the sense of familiarity it gave me. I had a crazy impulse to kiss the front door.

  Prince Daray climbed out of the car, sneering. He seemed jumpy and the look of suspicious alertness on his face made my stomach roll.

  "Is this, um, rogue-witch or whatever dangerous?”

  "Hardly,” Daray said, but I could tell he was uneasy. Fawne squeezed my hand, which made me raise my eyebrows in question.

  "They have a history,” Fawne said. A history- like a romantic one? I felt a twinge of jealousy, which both surprised and irritated me.

  "Muffin?” Daray asked. My heart leaped.

  "What?”

  "Do you want a muffin, something to eat or drink?” Daray asked. I nodded and turned to look at a display of travel mugs and coffee-makers to hide the fact that my face was turning red. When he returned with a tall latte and a blueberry muffin I thanked him and frowned at the pastry that had caused my embarrassment.

  Little, delicious traitor!

  Daray gave Fawne some sort of signal and she went to stand beside the entryway. I plopped onto an overstuffed velvet chair. After looking at his seating options with what can only be described as muted horror, Daray sat next to me.

  We sat there, silent, for at least five minutes before Daray heaved a sigh of impatience.

  "Unbelievable disrespect! She picks the location, the meeting time and she still can't arrive on…"

  "Hey Ray!” A beautiful blonde girl with saucer-sized blue eyes hurried over to us. After wiping her hands on the green apron she wore, she rushed over to Daray and wrapped him in a hug before he could even leave his chair. "I was so excited to hear that you called that I just had Iridian tell you to meet me at the end of my shift."

  "Your shift? Still insisting on this ridiculous masquerade I see,” Daray said. The blonde girl ignored his comment and turned her toothpaste-ad smile my way.

  "My cousin seems to have lost his manners. I'm P.J.” I put my hand out and shook hers.

  "Ascher,” I said. P.J. beamed a smile at Daray.

  "The Prince and I haven't seen each other…"

  "Since you left with that Witch boyfriend of yours. How is Irrational, anyway, Persephone Jasmine?” Daray's words sliced like a knife through the conversation making P.J.'s smile falter.

  "It's Iridian –
and you know it. Besides, by the looks of things. We seem to be the pot calling the cauldron black," P.J. said. I didn't get the reference, but Daray clasped his hands together and took a deep breath.

  "Careful, cousin. Remember your place.” P.J.'s face whitened.

  "Since you exiled me, I no longer have one. Why have you come?” P.J. said.

  "I need you're assistance in casting a short-term, multiple illusion glamour over a group of vampires including Savian Radbourne."

  "Uh, uh. Not gonna happen,” P.J. said. "I told you I'd never use my magic like that again. Goddess, Daray. We have enough to deal with without starting a war with the vampires.

  "We? Don't you mean I have enough to deal with? You're no longer a Warlock. Royal or otherwise, Persephone Jasmine,” the Prince said. P.J.'s narrowed her eyes.

  "No. No, I'm not. Not since you betrayed me by telling my parents about Iridian When I confided in you, it was as my cousin and friend, not as my liege. Because of you, I lost my family, my friends, my title. Why on Mother Earth would you think I'd use my magic to help further your political agenda?"

  "This isn't about politics. It's a rescue mission,” Daray said.

  "You're rescuing a vampire?” P.J. asked incredulously.

  "We're rescuing a girl who was taken by vampires,” Daray said.

  "She's already been turned, drained or killed.” P.J. said. I clenched my jaw.

  "She's still alive,” I said. P.J. coughed back a laugh.

  "Vampires don't exactly keep humans around for company,” P.J. said. My hearing disappeared and I lost my sight as feverish warmth spread throughout my body.

  "The girl that was taken isn't human,” Daray said.

  "Blood is blood. I'm telling you, it's pointless. She's six-feet under or on a strictly liquid diet by now.” P.J. stopped talking and starred at the table. Looking down, I saw that the remainder of my coffee was boiling rapidly, sending froth over the rim and piddling onto the table.

  P.J. pulled a stained washcloth from the pocket of her apron and sopped up the mess. My nostrils flared. The Styrofoam cup was burning. My eyes lifted to P.J.'s face and I felt a wave of heat wash over me.

  Daray was already in front of me. His bare palm caught the fireball before it hit his cousin. Her wispy blonde bangs smoked, singed at the very ends. She blinked, her astonished eyes watching me through her soot-smeared face. Daray held his hands in front of him and winced. They were covered in blisters and raw wounds.

  "I suppose I should mention that the girl we're rescuing is Ascher's sister,” Daray said. I reached towards him, but he flinched. P.J. handed me her apron and I gently wrapped his hands in the stiff cloth.

  "Oh, Daray. I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to, it's just, the way she was talking about Gemma. I guess I, sort of, freaked.” Our eyes met and I shuddered. He'd been staring at me with something like hunger in his eyes. I noticed how close together our faces were. I could feel his breath on my lips.

  "A fireshifter, Goddess,” P.J. said. We both jumped. P.J. reached out to me like she wanted to make sure I was real.

  "When was your first Shifting?” P.J. asked.

  "My what?"

  “Your first shifting.” I looked at Daray and shrugged. P.J. puffed her breath out and frowned. "The first time you shifted fire. When was it?” She spoke the words slowly like she thought I was stupid.

  "Today,” Daray and I said together. P.J. kneeled at my side, her breath rushing out and her hands clasping mine.

  "Good Mother! I can see why Daray…"

  "Bite your tongue, cousin.” P.J. flicked her fingers at him.

  "And your sister, what can she do?” P.J. asked. She started to poke at me with searching fingers, her face folded in concentration. I pushed her hands away.

  "Keep her hands to herself. Will you help us or not?” P.J. gave me a long look and I regretted my temper. I'd really blown it.

  "When do we leave?” she said.

  PART FOUR

  SHIFTED

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kiss Crazy

  Rigel met up with us a couple of blocks from The Crimson on Bryn Mawr Avenue

  . He took one look at Daray's blistered hands and glared at me.

  "I didn't mean to.” I mumbled, returning his glare.

  "You're one hot chick, Ascher,” Rigel said. I frowned at his lame joke.

  "If you're quite done flirting with Miss Rafferty, I would appreciate your Cure crafting expertise,” Daray said. Rigel's face turned white and he swallowed.

  "Yes, Sire.” He gingerly touched Daray's palms, whispering strange words under his breath. Fawne steered me away from them and back to P.J.

  "She's done with mine, but she needs to finish yours up,” Fawne said. P.J. smiled and brushed her thumbs over my cheeks. Fawne had the most basic glamour which made her look the same, but appear as a vamp instead of a werewolf.

  "Since when does Ray Ray care who Rigel flirts with?” P.J. said. She was putting the final changes on the glamour that made me look like Dionysia. It felt like she was smoothing cool clay over my face. She had already cast a glamour over Daray to make him look like Dionysia's boyfriend, Clive- a human Dionysia vamped in the late 1800s.

  Daray thought it would be a good idea for us to walk the rest of the way to the club to give the appearance that the two of us had Shadowshifted, a power all vampires have to turn into shadow and materialize anywhere at will. P.J. gave my face one last poke with her finger and stood back to admire her handiwork before moving on to Rigel. With the limo gone, I had nowhere to sit, so I leaned against the sharp bark of a nearby tree to rest.

  After a few minutes of face pinching, P.J. ran her fingers through her hair and frowned. "Sorry, Rigel. This isn't going to work,” P.J. said. "I haven't cast a glamour in a long time and it's just too hard to hold all four of you. I'll have to cast an immersion glamours over you."

  "What'll that do? “ I asked.

  "If anyone looks at Rigel, he'll just blend in with his surroundings like a chameleon; it's a sort of camouflage. I was going to just spell myself with the immersion glamour, but it should work for the two of us,” P.J. explained.

  "Why can't we all just go in like that?” I said. Everyone turned to look at me.

  "Among other reasons. We'd never get passed the guards,” Daray said.

  Oh.

  "It's no big,” Fawne said. "Anything that'll help us get the drop on the vamps. I'm all about the offense anyway."

  "Not tonight, Fawne. You are going in there as a servant to Dionysia and you are to act like one. Tonight you are only to defend yourself, Gemma and Ascher. You're to keep the damages done to the vampires to a minimum,” Daray said. Fawne smiled as he had just made a joke, but Daray looked serious. "I'm not kidding around, Fawne. I am giving you a direct order to only strike if your life is in imminent danger. You're to use your weapons to repel the vampires, not hurt them."

  "Not hurt them? Not hurt them!” I said. "These…things kidnapped my sister. In addition, that vampire Savian bit her! They'll be lucky if I leave most of them intact."

  "And what if Gemma is caught in the middle? What then?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and rubbed my palms up and down the scratchy material of my dress.

  "This is a rescue mission, Ascher, not a siege. I am taking a huge risk tonight meddling with the affairs of a Master Vampire to save your sister. Taking Gemma from him will be considered a huge insult and I won't risk adding injury to it!” Daray said. I mumbled my agreement, but knew I could not keep my promise.

  If the Master Vampire wanted Gemma, enough to take her in the first place, what would stop him from coming after us again? No, this would not be just a rescue mission. I had to make sure that Savian Radbourne would not come after us and the only way I could be positive he would not is if he were dead. Daray gave me a hard look, an eyebrow raised in question.

  "Alright, fine. I get it!” I said. Fawne came over to me and patted me on the shoulder.

  "To make cer
tain this rescue will run as smoothly as possible I want everyone to be sure of the plan. Now, Persephone Jasmine…"

  "P.J.,” P.J. said. Daray swept his fingers at P.J. in a dismissive gesture and continued.

  "…will continue casting the glamours over Ascher and myself until we have Gemma safely back in the limo. The driver is meeting us at the rear entrance of the club which can be reached through the emergency exit located just behind the bar. Rigel, Fawne and- P.J., two of you are to remain with Ascher at all times no matter what happens. Is that understood?" Rigel bobbed his head in agreement and Fawne rolled her shoulders like she was stretching her muscles.

  "Got it," Fawne said.

  "Ascher, all you have to remember is to carry yourself with authority and act as though you are used to giving orders and having them obeyed. If, for any reason, you feel like you're about to lose control over your powers or give yourself away, you're to excuse yourself and go somewhere private until you calm yourself."

  "Okay," I said.

  "Fine then. My contact at The Crimson will be meeting us in…" Daray checked his watch, "About ten minutes. You may do as you wish until then, but we're all to stay within six-feet of each other."

  P.J. sat on a flattened patch of grass, her fingers playing with the sparse grass. Rigel rifled through his messenger bag as though he was making sure he had everything he needed. I said a silent prayer that he did. Fawne crouched next to P.J. and patted the grass beside her, but I shook my head no. There was something I'd been avoiding doing. Now that we were so close to ending this nightmare, I wanted to thank the person, warlock or not, responsible for helping me save Gemma.

  "Um, Daray. Can I talk to you for a second?" I asked.

  "Of course. What can I do for you?" He said. Feeling like crap for being so snippy with him, I let out a sharp laugh.

  "What can you…that's just it. You've done so much already. I mean, with training me and getting P.J. and everything. I, I…" I sniffled back a hysterical sob that threatened to escape. "I just really, really appreciate it and I can't thank you enough." I lunged forward and wrapped him in a huge bear hug. His body went rigid for a long moment before he relaxed into it, patting my back like he wasn't used to shows of affection and didn't know quite how to react.