“I visited Ms. Willow yesterday,” Dorian started, keeping his voice low. A sheen of bacon grease coated his upper lip, tempting me. “She finally gave me a name.”
That was enough to shake me out of my lusty thoughts. “She confessed to who hired her?”
“She gave me a name,” Dorian said. “As to whether it’s who hired her—” He shrugged. “It’s more likely the person is using this name as an alias.”
“Why? What’s the name?”
“Hecate.”
I pursed my lips in thought. “Sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“In Greek mythology, Hecate is referred to as the goddess of spirits and night apparitions. She personified an aspect of the moon and is said to be the mother of witchcraft. Oftentimes, witches reference her name in their chants. You may have heard Fiona say something like ‘thank the goddess’” He waited for me to acknowledge this. “Hecate is the goddess she’s referring to. All witches hold her in high regard, thanking her for positivity in their lives and praying to her when in need of guidance.”
I thought about the woman in my mirror, wondering if just maybe it had been her—Hecate. But Dorian didn’t believe the real Hecate was behind any of this.
“So, because she’s a goddess, you don’t believe it’s actually her who hired Ms. Willow?” I asked, voicing my thoughts.
“Seems unlikely,” Dorian said, “but, I suppose anything is possible.”
My vision blurred as I retreated to my thoughts. Things were getting pretty serious if Hecate was actually taking the time to bother with me. A mythological goddess. I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or scared shitless by that. It also reminded me of the significance of the situation. The woman in the mirror explained that by taking my memories dying would be easier. Maybe she assumed that I wouldn’t connect to the people in my life this quickly and therefore it would be easier to surrender my life. However, I had connected with Fiona and Dorian. I liked what was between Dorian and me, loved figuring out who he was and learning about myself through his eyes. Though there’d been no declaration of love, I could feel how much he cared for me through his relentless actions to try to save me.
“What are you thinking about?”
I blinked out of my thoughts, refocusing on the present and looking up at Dorian’s handsome face. And he was breathtakingly handsome in an eerie way. Those eyes, the churning gray clouds rolling across his sockets, could suck you in and make you feel like you were floating through an abyss of endlessness. The curve of his mouth was another one of his seductive tools, wielding it and causing me to surrender to him effortlessly.
“Tell me how we met,” I heard myself saying as I stared up at him.
His mouth curled up on one side. “It was a dark and stormy night…” At my look of incredulity, he added, “It was. We were between Seattle and Moon and a thunderstorm had rolled in. You had jumped out of your cab after seeing a bad car accident. The police hadn’t shown up yet, and you worried about the passengers. After checking on them, you saw me approaching.” Dorian’s grin turned into a small smile while he recollected that night. “I still remember your face after seeing me approach.” A huff of amusement fell from his nose. “And I still remember how I felt when I first saw you.” Dorian leaned toward me, bringing his mouth toward my neck. He placed a small kiss below my ear before continuing to speak.
“I was momentarily stunned by you,” he said. “The rain soaked you from head to toe, capturing on your skin and your blue eyes blazed through the darkness as you tried to make sense of me. I knew who you were, sensed your power, but your beauty and bravery took me by surprise.” My eyelids grew heavy with each brush of his lips, relishing the soft caress of his breath as he spoke. “From that moment on, I knew I wanted to possess you.” He brought his face in front of mine while his hand crawled up my arm and settled on the back of my neck.
“And no one is going to take you away from me,” he promised. We stared into each other’s eyes, Dorian’s expression intense while I tried to keep my breathing even.
“Oh!” Fiona said from behind Dorian’s back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
With one last look, Dorian helped me off the counter, and we turned toward my best friend. Her timing sucked.
“IF YOU EVEN bring up killing Gwen…” Dorian warned. The four of us made our way into the living room to discuss things. As I gauged the hatred between Ethan and Dorian, I wasn’t sure there would be much of a discussion. I had a feeling I’d have to play referee.
“What? You’ll kill me?” Ethan’s tone implied he didn’t fear taunting Dorian. “You haven’t learned your lesson yet?”
Dorian’s right eye crinkled while his lips thinned. I gripped his arm, my fingers squeezing their own warning. Dorian spared me a look, his body relaxing just enough that I’m comforted that a fight won’t break out in the middle of my living room.
“You should be so lucky,” Dorian said. “What I had planned was far worse than death.”
An involuntary shiver made its way up my spine at his menacing tone. It’s in times like these that I wondered how I fell for someone as dangerous as Dorian. He’s nice to me, but that didn’t mean the monster hiding within wouldn’t rear its ugly head. My instincts told me that, while I had reservations towards Dorian’s shift in moods, there was no doubt that he wouldn’t hurt me.
“I think it’s best that you guys ignore your hatred for each other and we discuss what we’re going to do,” I said, eyeing the three other people in the room. Fiona and Ethan sat on the sofa while I sat in the overstuffed chair and Dorian stood with crossed arms beside me, his feet spread shoulder width apart—his threatening posture.
After a few more tense moments of silence, Ethan recited the story about the witch. Dorian stood beside me, never shifting or giving away any emotion. I kept peeking up at him to see if his thoughts would reveal themselves through his expression, but he remained stony. It wasn’t until Ethan got to the part about the archer shooting the witch that his jaw ticked.
“What are the NAWC’s plans?” Dorian asked after Ethan finished.
Ethan shrugged. “They wouldn’t tell me.”
“Bullshit,” Dorian growled. “You run to them with this news, and they don’t reveal what their plans are?”
“He didn’t run to tell them about Gwen,” Fiona said in defense. “He did it because I asked him to, okay? The last time we were in Moon I heard Charles and Kye talking. They suspected something was wrong with Gwen. I never said anything because I thought they were crazy.” Fiona sent me an apologetic smile. “But when Ethan and I started sensing the imbalance, I started to wonder if they’d been right. I wanted Ethan to go to Moon to see if they were planning anything. The council members are stronger than us, would have sensed the imbalance long before we did. I’m thinking that’s why they asked Gwen to become a council member, so they could keep a closer eye on her.” Fiona paused, taking a ragged breath. “I did it to help out.”
I heard the unspoken but after her sentence, and my gut tightened. I envisioned myself as the witch from 1822. While she’d purposefully cast a spell to keep from dying, we were the same; two beings living on borrowed time. I imagined those seven extra days she got were lived blissfully happy, ignorantly thinking she still had a long life ahead of her. Was that what I was doing, living in ignorance as the NAWC members strategized how to kill me?
“Instead you put Gwen on their radar, right?” Dorian asked, his voice accusing and hard.
Fiona looked up at Ethan before her eyes found mine. “They asked why he wanted to know, and then remembered that he was staying with me in Flora. They know you and I live together. They just…put two and two together.”
“Son of a bitch,” Dorian snarled. Looking down at me, he said, “Gwen, pack a bag; we’re leaving before the NAWC even sets foot in Flora.”
Ethan snorted. “Running won’t do any good; they’re the best of the best. One tracking spell and Gwen is as good as theirs. Not to m
ention her bond with the vampire. If they have to, they’ll track him down to find her.”
The bit about being bonded to a vampire caught me off guard for a second. I had forgotten Dorian told me about him—Aiden. With everything going on, being bonded to a vampire who had yet to reveal himself was the least of my worries. The only picture I could form of him was from the racy dream I’d had, and that only made me uncomfortable.
“You have to understand that it’s their job to take care of things like this,” Fiona said. “They must govern their people or it’ll cause friction among the other governments.”
“You’re defending them?” I asked with incredulity. To her credit, she looked rueful about what she said.
“She’s not defending them,” Ethan replied, “she’s simply stating that had Dorian not broken the rules, they wouldn’t be forced to act. It’s their job to extinguish threats and, like it or not, you’re a threat, Gwen.”
I chewed on my tongue rather than spilling the many thoughts racing through my head. I understood what Fiona was saying, and even Ethan, but that didn’t mean I was on board to help the NAWC kill me. I wanted so badly to say how this wasn’t my fault, that I wasn’t like the witch from 1822. This had been done to me; I hadn’t willingly trapped my soul to keep from dying. But I didn’t say any of those things because,for one, they already knew all this, and secondly, it didn’t change anything. We needed to spend our time figuring out a way around this, if there even was a way around this. The thing was, I wasn’t completely sure Ethan and Fiona wanted to find a solution. Ethan’s disinterest didn’t surprise me; it was Fiona’s wavering that caused a pang of betrayal to seep through my chest. Maybe she’d lost the hope I so desperately clung to, and I couldn’t fault her for that. This was a very serious matter, one where seeing a silver lining was difficult to do.
I looked up at Dorian and he arched a sharp brow as though to say ‘told you so.’ I didn’t want to believe that Fiona—my supposed best friend—wanted to turn me into the NAWC. I lowered my eyes to my lap, concentrating on the chipping nail polish on my thumb.
“I want to try the time traveling spell,” Fiona said. “Ethan and I have been discussing it and it’s the only thing we can think of. Maybe if we can go back to that day, stop the rogue from killing you…”
“Travelling through time is dangerous,” Dorian said, shifting beside my chair. “If you change too much of the past, it could make the future worse, and Gwen’s future is already sensitive.”
“If we don’t do this Gwen won’t have a future,” Fiona responded. “It’s your fault she’s even in this position.”
I shook my head as the frustration set in. The constant blame game was getting old, and on my nerves. “Actually, had Dorian not restored my soul, I would already be dead. He gave me extra time and if this time spell works, he will have saved my life. We need to stop blaming each other for things out of our control. It’s done. All I can do now is deal with it.”
Ethan’s eyes shifted to the floor while Fiona nodded in agreement. Dorian currently had his head turned so that it looked like he was staring at the wall. Maybe he was; it was hard to tell with the sunglasses obscuring his eyes.
“What do we need to travel back in time?” I asked when it seemed no one else was going to speak. At this point, I was willing to try anything. “And how long before someone from the NAWC shows up?”
“The ingredients for the spell will be difficult to get,” Ethan replied. “As for the NAWC—” He shrugged. “—Could be today or a week from now. As your government, they have a responsibility to take care of this and the longer it goes undealt with, the worse things are going to get.”
I remembered how Micah explained that each magical species has their own governments, how the vampire council was responsible for dealing with the man with the hole in his chest. The thing was, all of it circled back around to me. Did that mean that multiple councils would soon seek me out, seek to destroy me? In theory, having multiple governing houses was smart, but when those multiple houses would soon target me, it didn’t seem like such a good thing.
“Why will the ingredients be difficult to get?” I asked, my fingers fidgeting in my lap. We had to do something before one of the governments stepped in, and I didn’t think time was on our side.
“Because they’re not typical potion ingredients,” Ethan answered, his voice thick with condemnation as though he found fault in my lack of knowledge pertaining to potions and spells. “We cannot just go down to your store and pick up supplies,” he continued. “These specific materials will have to be hunted down.”
“How long will it take?” I asked.
“Best case scenario, three days,” Ethan said. “Worst case, two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Even three days made me antsy, but two flippin’ weeks? There was no way the council would leave me alone for that long. I felt the bubble of hope floating in my chest dwindling by the second.
“We’ll start searching for the items right now,” Fiona assured.
“Can I help?”
“I think it’s best you lay low,” Dorian suggested.
“He’s probably right,” Fiona said. “The less you’re in public, the better. We don’t want to draw unwanted attention.”
I gaped at them. “So I’m under house arrest?” I looked up at Dorian, my eyes pleading.
“Sorry, cupcake,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry, “if you’re in one place, I won’t have to worry about your safety. Besides, the last thing we need is some patron noticing the oddities surrounding you and taking matters into his own hands. If it’s at all possible, I’d like to keep my torturing to a minium.” He finished the statement with a wink. Ethan snorted while he and Fiona got to their feet.
“That’s it then?” I asked in disbelief. “You three decide my fate and expect me to wait around here twiddling my thumbs?”
“Of course not,” Dorian said, leaning down and kissing the top of my head. He reached for the remote and placed it in my lap. “You can watch television.” The amused smirk lifting one side of his mouth up made me want to smack him. Fiona and Ethan already exited the room and were shuffling into their jackets on their way to search for the rare materials. Dorian started toward the doorway, too.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To check in with the other spirit walkers,” he replied. “If you need anything, my number is in your cell. If anything happens, call me first. Got it?” He paused in the doorway leading to the kitchen, waiting for my answer.
“The only thing that’s going to happen is me dying of boredom.” I was unusually antsy, already climbing the walls and they hadn’t even left yet. I blamed it on the seriousness of the situation and the fact that everyone else was doing something to fix it while I sat in my pajamas. I felt completely useless.
“Lets not joke about you dying, okay?”
I nodded and watched Dorian head toward the door. When it closed behind him, the silence of my apartment intensified. It’s strange how eerily loud silence becomes when you’re alone.
Deciding not to listen to Dorian, at least about vegging out and watching television, I stood up and headed toward my bedroom. There had to be clues within its barriers that would give me an inkling as to whom I was. As I opened the door, my gaze wandered around the space. Clue number one, I am not wealthy. The room is barely big enough to contain the queen-sized bed and two dressers. When my eyes landed on the mirror, I quickly shifted to something else. I was not in the mood to see that woman pop up in the glass again. I was pretty sure she only cared about me surrendering my life and, call me crazy, but I was going to hold off doing that for now.
I moved into the room, going to the dresser. Pulling open drawers, I found stacks of neatly folded clothes. However, when I reached the bottom drawer, it held odds and ends instead of garments. The title on a large, leather bound book caught my eye. Magick Encyclopedia. Retrieving the book, I sat cross-legged on my bed and opened the cover. My eyes sca
nned down the table of contents ranging from spells to trolls and everything in between. A surprised huff left my lips when my eyes landed on the topic of vampires. Interest peaked, I flipped toward the page and began reading.
THE CREATION AND EVOLUTION OF VAMPIRES:
The vampire virus derives from Satan himself. Lucifer was once the most beautiful angel and worked right alongside God. But Lucifer’s vanity and jealousy tainted his mind and soon he was gathering angels to overthrow his ruler. When God could not get him to repent for his sins, he was then cast out of heaven, along with the angels who chose to follow Lucifer over God.
After his fall, Lucifer was then referred to as Satan and said to rule over the firey pits of hell. It is said that after losing their angel statuses, Satan and his fallen angels transformed into demons. They loathed the love God showed his children, the humans whom Satan detested. Bitter from failing, Satan ordered his fallen angels to infect as many humans as possible with their virus, which resulted in vampirism. Satan found satisfaction in his children infecting and feeing off God’s children.
The first vampires were horrid creatures with bat-like wings and talons on their feet and hands. Every night after the sun set, the vampires would haunt the skies in search of more humans to infect. The allergy to the sun comes from the virus being of the netherworld—dark; whereas God’s children stem from the light.
Over time, the humans began conquering the evilness of the virus with the power of their humanity and free will God instilled in them. This evolution spanned over several millenniums and produced the tamer, less evil vampires we have today.
I sat back and let out an awed snort. Vampires derived from Satan himself, and I was bonded to one. Not just that, I had once been in love with one, and now I was in some sort of relationship with the angel of Death. One had bonded me to him while the other screwed up the balance of the world. I definitely had a type when it came to men.
Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) Page 12
