Witchfire

by Cyrese Covelli

  Daray dropped his arms and cleared his throat Tears stinging my cheeks, I pulled away from him, feeling about as welcome as the plague.

  "It's no imposition, I assure you and I appreciate the sentiment," he said. I blinked at him and swallowed, my face beginning to burn for showing so much emotion in front of someone with the emotional capacity of a mechanical pencil. I started to walk away, but before I'd taken two steps, Daray caught my left hand and squeezed it.

  The heat from his skin warmed my hand and sent shivers throughout my body. A vein of blue electricity sparked from his palm and I gasped as my fire flared up to meet it, turning my flame from ruby red to amethyst as my magic mixed with his own. He bent over my hand and brushed his lips over my skin.

  As he rose, I was surprised that I wanted to kiss him back. He watched me, his silver-blue eyes seeming to search mine. His face lowered over mine and I leaned forward to kiss him, the second boy I'd ever kissed in as many days. I guess finding out I'm a warlock with superpowers was making me kiss-crazy. Just as his lips touched mine, someone coughed.

  "Forgive me, my Lady. I seem to have arrived at a bad time." My eyes sought the owner of the voice who'd interrupted us and remained hidden in the darkness of the woods. Cherry Cough Syrup a.k.a. Emily the uber-bitch was kneeling in the dirt, her eyes flicking from Daray back to me.

  "You!" I said. Cherry Cough Syrup looked up at me, her face pale in the moonlight.

  "Yes, my Lady?" Cherry said. Daray gripped my wrist roughly.

  "Hey! That girl, she's…" I began.

  "…late. I know, but perhaps you'll pardon her just this once, Dionysia. After all, she's just a silly little girl. Is it the child's fault her master sent her to meet us?" Daray said. I snapped my mouth shut and glared at Cherry who fell into an exaggerated bow.

  "She's the contact?" I said.

  "Something like that," Daray said. I felt Fawne and P.J. at my back and sighed, my thoughts turning wicked. I had to make nice with Cherry long enough to get to Gemma, but that didn't mean I couldn't have fun doing it.

  "I understand." I said to Cherry. "You're just a baby, really. You're forgiven for your lateness." When Cherry didn't get up from her bow, it occurred to me that she was waiting for my permission. "Um. You may…get up." I said, stifling a laugh.

  This was just too much fun.

  "How old are you, anyway? Eighteen? Nineteen?" I asked.

  "Seventeen," Cherry said.

  "Oh, how adorable!" I said, imitating the same tone she'd used to belittle me.

  "May I escort you to my Master?" Cherry asked. I smiled at her, knowing she could see the fatal points of my glamour-spelled teeth.

  "Lead the way," I said.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Demented Dress-Up

  After a brief hike through the woods, and more than one muttered curse to the inventor of the stiletto, we arrived at The Crimson. Cherry led us through a spelled third entrance that appeared only after she placed the flat of her palm against the brick side of the building.

  "Reveal their true selves," I whispered as we stepped into the inky dark of the hallway. P.J. had told me to recite the words when stepping over the threshold of the doorway. The spell was short-term, but would allow me to see the auras of those around me, letting me know who was a vampire and who wasn't. Most vampires had this ability to some degree, but Dionysia was an expert at identifying those of her kind.

  P.J. told me vampires have violet auras, witches have yellow, warlocks red and werewolves black. Shifters glow blue and humans’ auras are usually a cloudy silver.

  As I looked back at Fawne, Rigel and Daray, I found this to be true, but P.J.'s aura glowed orange. That's weird I thought. I told myself I'd ask her about it later. Right now, there were more important things to worry about.

  The magic around us felt heavy and liquid. I guessed it was from so many spells working all at once. I stumbled against the magic and felt the invisible hands of one of my bodyguards on my back. Daray offered me his arm and I took it as I struggled to keep from falling Daray had warned me that I might be more affected by the magic because my own powers had been awakened only days before.

  Except for Fawne, the others had been around magic all their lives. Overtime I began to lose consciousness; Daray would steady me against the solid brace of his arm, keeping me from sliding to the floor.

  Only minutes had passed, but my body felt sore and stiff. Each of my movements was slowed like I was struggling to run while submerged in water. I glanced at Daray whose face appeared sculpted; the flames from candles ensconced in the walls making him look even more handsome and unnatural. We came to a steep staircase and he whispered to the others to go on ahead of us.

  "What is it?" I said.

  "We haven't even entered the club yet and you're already weak. I'm going to shift some of my energy to you so that you'll be able to face Savian." Daray's long ash-blonde bangs fell across his eyes and he pushed me backwards, pinning me against the wall.

  "What are...?" Daray smashed his mouth against mine and I felt a warm pressure enter my lungs and surge throughout my body. He stepped back, gasping for air.

  "I'm sorry." He said. It was so not what I expected to hear after being kissed. "There are less…physical ways to shift energy, but I thought this would be the least time consuming." Great.

  "Well, I'm glad to help keep us on schedule." I said. I shoved him away from me, feeling insulted and embarrassed. Heaven forbid he kiss me because he wanted to.

  "That's not what I…"

  "We don't have time for this." I hurried after the others, not knowing if Daray was behind us and not really caring. Cherry grabbed at a pair of doorknobs and pushed, her entire body working to open the heavy doors. I noticed her aura was a dingy gray. After all her posturing, she was just human.

  I winced as light poured into the hallway and just managed to keep myself from shielding my eyes. Taking the lead, I stepped through the entryway and cast my gaze over the half-empty booth in front of me. We were upstairs, in the balcony of The Crimson where Gemma and I had sat.

  Gemma.

  My eyes continued to search for her among those seated at the table. She wasn't there. Savian locked eyes with me and smiled, flashing his pointed fangs. He was dressed in a red dress-coat like they wore in the Revolutionary War. Black pants tucked into tall, black boots and a puffy pirate shirt completed his look. Cliché-much?

  Cadence wore a black, velvet cat-suit and a vaguely familiar man at the edge of the table whose back was facing me was clothed only in fitted black jeans and a black leather jacket. Super. I was wearing a corseted, black ball gown and standing next to a boy wearing a black tuxedo with a cranberry-colored shirt. If I were an outsider looking in, I would think we were all in the middle of a game of demented dress-up.

  "Lady Dionysia, you've chosen to grace us with your presence weeks earlier than expected," Savian said.

  "Yes, well. My beloved heard of your new pet and wanted to see what all the fuss was about." Daray said. I was just about to elbow him for calling Gemma a pet and for the cutesy names when I remembered he was pretending to be Clive.

  "Ah, yes. The feline-shifter. She'll be with us shortly. Won't you have a seat?" Savian snapped his fingers and the man at the end of the table turned to look at us.

  "I trust you remember Fiske."

  That's where I knew him from!

  Fiske was the grabby werewolf. He smiled at me, rose to his feet and bowed. Savian gave me a similar greeting as he stepped out from behind the table, giving me the perfect angle to kick his face in, should the opportunity arise. Cadence curtsied and Savian kissed the back of my hand, his lips cold as death against my skin.

  "I'm sorry about the décor. I would have liked to greet you with a far more extravagant reception, but I do have your favorite on tap," Savian said.

  On tap?

  "A-positive, is her favorite, but she does so hate the tranquilizer- aftertaste," Daray said. It took me a moment to realize they were t
alking about blood and when I did, I felt the blueberry scone from earlier begin to churn in my stomach. "Or, perhaps you would like a cranberry juice?" Daray said. I swallowed.

  "And a large, pitcher of ice," I said.

  "Emily, fetch what Lady Dionysia has requested along with several glasses of A- positive for the rest of us." Emily scurried away and I slipped into the booth, Savian slid next to me, followed by Cadence and Fiske. Daray sat to my right. The glamours cast by P.J. continued to keep her, Fawne and Rigel from being noticed. "Cadence- will you be a dear and go get the feline-shifter for me?" I gritted my teeth and dug my nails into the leather of the booth to keep from screaming "her name is Gemma!"

  Emily returned with a cranberry juice for me and a few glasses of what I prayed was V-8 juice for the others. She placed a silver ice bucket in front of me and curtsied before walking, backwards, out through the double doors we'd entered through. When I turned back to Savian, he was tilting the remainder of the red liquid into his mouth. He let out a refreshed sound like a thirsty person after a tall glass of water and smiled, his teeth tinged pink.

  "It's not the best stuff, but it keeps the hunger at bay," Savian said. "Ah, there she is." Cadence ushered Gemma towards the table and my eyes filled with tears at the sight of her. She was dressed in a sleeveless scarlet dress, her hair twisted up to reveal twin sets of purple bruises on her throat that were scabbed over at the center. As I looked at her, I realized she'd been bitten multiple times.

  My stomach twisted and I struggled to keep from vomiting. Her green eyes held the familiar spark of anger that had sent me fleeing to my room at age eight when I'd given all of her Barbie dolls a crew-cut. Fiske stood to let Gemma sit next to Savian who draped his arm around her shoulders like a happy kid with a stuffed animal won at a carnival.

  "Look at me, girl,” Savian said. He caught Gemma's gaze and she blinked, her eyes suddenly blank. Savian met my eyes, his own heavy-lidded with a hunger in them that made my heart beat savagely against my chest. He extended her arm to me and smiled. "Care for a drink?"

  Chapter Twenty

  Fanged Femme Fatale

  I stared at him and fought my power back as it flared against my palms, nearly singing the material of my dress.

  "I really don't have much of an appetite," I said. Savian shrugged and lifted Gemma's wrist to his mouth. I was on my feet, lunging across the table and angling to tear her away from him when Savian stopped and sniffed at the air.

  "Is something burning?" He asked. I slumped back into the seat, tucking my hands behind my back. I balled them into fists, waiting for the icy feeling of my power to go away. Daray reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a silky handkerchief, pressing it into my hands. His fingers flexed and the ice bucket slid in front of me, pouring melting ice into my lap. I placed my hands on the ice, and Daray fanned me with the handkerchief to hide the rising steam.

  "Please allow me to help you freshen up a bit," Fawne said. She started to steer me away from the table, but I wasn't letting Gemma out of my sight.

  "I'm fine," I said. Fawne pointed at my skirt which was covered in blistered lace.

  "I won't leave her," I said in a voice so low I wasn't sure if Fawne could hear me.

  "Fine, then. I'll show you the bathroom and come right back, okay?" Fawne said. I rolled my eyes and let her lead me back towards the entryway and behind the red curtains of the balcony. Absently, I realized P.J. and Rigel were just behind us. Fawne knocked on a huge, black door before shooing me inside. "You have to pull yourself together, girl."

  "I know. I know," I said.

  "I'll have Rigel stay with you, okay?" I closed the door and rolled my eyes. It was nice that Fawne was so concerned for me, but it felt like I was being babysat. I twisted the knob for the cold water and stuck my hands against the cool marble of the sink.

  I stared at a reflection that wasn't mine and lifted my upper lip so I could see the points of my canines. With the raven hair, black dress and translucent skin, I looked like some kind of fanged femme-fatale.

  Taking deep breaths, I closed my eyes and concentrated on reigning in my power. Steam rose to my face as my hands reacted to the water. I breathed in the damp air and sighed.

  Ascher.

  Someone was whispering my name.

  Ascher.

  I glanced up at the mirror and saw Elliot's reflection. I spun around to face him and felt two hands grab me under the arms and lift me off my feet, towards the sink. I gritted my teeth, expecting to be slammed against the sink mirror, but I found myself being pulled into a world of swirling mists of fog and dark shadows.

  The only light came from the mirror opening that led to the bathroom. It emitted just enough light for me to see Elliot staring back at me.

  "Geez, Elliot! Why can't you just say hi like a normal person?" I said. Elliot cocked his head to the right and smiled wryly.

  "I needed to see you," he said.

  "Well, fine, but can't you just knock or clear your throat or…"

  "It's a trap," Elliot interrupted.

  "What's a trap?"

  "This supposed rescue mission Prince Daray has arranged," he said.

  "Why would you say that?"

  "Your sister's power makes her too valuable to Savian. If Daray were to steal a possession of such worth, it would be considered an act of war. There's no way he'd risk war just to save some random girl," Elliot said. I narrowed my eyes.

  "She's not…"

  "…a random girl to you, I know, but Prince Daray isn't known to get involved in acts of charity. He hopes to gain something from his kindness or he would never chance angering the Master Vampire of Chicago."

  "But, we're covered in glamour spells. Savian will think she was taken by another vampire. He won't even know that Daray helped us," I said.

  "You're covered in Glamours?" Elliot said. I nodded. "He's lying to you.. The only warlock capable of that type of magic is his own cousin who he had exiled three years ago."

  "Whatever. I just want to get my sister, get the hell out of here and get on with my life."

  "There's no way Daray will allow it," Elliot said.

  "Then I guess it's a good thing that he has no say in what I do."

  "I suppose you think he's helping you in kindness? The only reason he's helping you is because he thinks he'll gain something in return."

  "And what exactly do you hope to gain by telling me all this?" I asked. Elliot gave me a wicked smile.

  "A moment alone with you."

  "Yeah, right." I started towards the mirror portal, my feet making suctioning sounds against the smoke-hidden ground. Elliot materialized in front of me, his expression one of anger. He spun me in a circle into his arms and bent me back like he was dipping me in dance. His lips on mine were harsh, a desperation making his kiss almost painful.

  "I could keep you here with me if I wanted to, trap you in the shadows of Time for an eternity," he said. I had nothing to say to that, so I called my power into my hands and watched the scarlet sparks encircle his arms. I shoved away from him and ran to the portal. I could hear him behind me, close enough that his breath tickled the back of my neck. He was too close. I only had one choice.

  I leapt up and threw myself through the portal, landing hard on my chin and the black marble of the bathroom floor. The door to the bathroom crashed open and I saw the ghostly images of Rigel and P.J. enter the room.

  "What happened?" I couldn't tell who had spoken, the words a mere tickle across my mind. As I looked behind me, I saw that the mirror was intact and Elliot was nowhere in sight.

  I started to tell them about Elliot, but remembered his warning about Daray. Some part of me trusted Elliot and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was some truth to his words. I had to find a way to get Gemma out of here and, unless I wanted to become a vampire-appetizer, I had to do it soon.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Liar, Liar

  Fawne stood outside the doors leading to the balcony, chipping at her of na
il polish with her teeth.

  "Who's with Gemma?" I asked.

  "She's fine," Fawne said. When I tried to move closer to the door, Fawne put out her hand to block me and used the spiked heel of her black stiletto boot to knock. She was stalling. Not caring whether she was offended or not, I shoved Fawne away from the door and pushed into the VIP section of the balcony. My eyes darted around, searching for Gemma.

  She was still in the booth with Cadence who patted her on the shoulder as though comforting her. Fiske was slumped backwards, his arms behind his head and his legs resting on the table. Savian had his back to me and was laughing at something Fiske was saying. Daray's attention turned to me and he smiled.

  "Ah, Dionysia, after you," Daray said, standing. I heard the sharp click of Fawne's heels behind me and felt her hands on my back. I reached out to my sister, but she shrank back, terrified. Mentally scolding myself for forgetting the glamour, I moved a few inches away from Gemma to make her more comfortable.

  I noticed Savian staring at me and frowned before I could stop myself. He smiled, flicking the tips of his fangs with his tongue.

  "Verywell. Now we can deal with some business matters. If we can all please…" Savian said.

  "I think it's best if we just get this over with as soon as possible," Daray said.

  "As you wish," Savian said. My frown deepened.

  "Get what over with?" I asked, my patience bordering on non-existent.

  "The exchange," Daray said.

  "Will someone just tell me what's happening?" I said.

  "Hey!" P.J. materialized, her glamour gone and her voice tight with anger. Rigel was behind her, his hands covering the top of her forehead. "Rigel, get off of me! Ray, what the hell are you doing?" She shrieked.