Falling From Grace

by L. T. Kelly

  For fuck’s sake. If I had the foresight that Freya’s reaction would be this good, I’d have initiated this meeting before leaving the house last time I came here.

  The two women ambled toward the house at the end of the square, their fingers entwined, their faces toward each other, indulging in quiet conversation. I didn’t even bother to ask either if I should follow them or not. They were too lost in each other.

  “What do we do now?” Rose shifted from one foot to the other as the remainder of the clan offered her stony expressions. I forgot Rose wiped two of them out.

  “We wait.” I told her, blocking her from the clan, who all scrambled to a standing position.

  “You killed my Peter.” A woman stepped forward, glowering at Rose.

  Fuck, how are we going to manage all this without killing them in self-defence?

  “I didn’t mean to. I swear,” she said, taking the bold move of stepping around me to face them. “They both tried to kill me. I had no choice.”

  My jaw slackened as I watched Rose, her head bowed and her hands in front of her. Her shoulders trembled.

  “I cannot tell you how sorry I am, but I swear to you, they were acting behind all your backs. They agreed to meet with me to discuss how I may come by the amulet in exchange for ten thousand pounds each.”

  The woman who initially challenged Rose gasped and stepped back. “My son wouldn’t do that. We don’t need no money here.”

  “They both planned to leave the clan after they met with me.” Rose stared at the woman square in the eye.

  The woman rushed forward to attack her, but Rose held up a palm, and the woman rebounded off it, landing on her ass on the cobbles. A man, most likely her husband, sped toward her and helped her up, his shifty expression speaking volumes. He knew.

  I walked forward and stood next to Rose, my feet planted apart. “Tell her,” I barked at the man. The couple exchanged a glance. The woman’s expression morphed into one of understanding that Rose told the truth. She snatched her body away from her husband.

  “That didn’t mean it was okay to kill him.” She bounded toward Rose again. This time, I grabbed her, moved her away and set her down.

  “Hear her out,” I demanded, not that I had any idea how Rose planned to justify her actions.

  “They took the money, then laughed at me. The stench of absinthe on their breaths was evident. I desperately sought the amulet, so much so I believe I was half-delirious.” She cast her gaze downward, clearly ashamed. “They taunted me, telling me I wouldn’t be able to drink from them or I would die. I lost my temper. I’m sorry.”

  The woman didn’t look any more okay with it. After all, it was her son who died because he fucked with the wrong person. Wasn’t that what happened in life? The young men wanted out of the clan, but they made a fatal mistake in trying to do so.

  The boy’s mother stared at Rose, as though trying to summon a response, eventually turning and storming off inside her house, her husband hurrying along after her.

  Rose would have no judgment from me. I recalled with ease how enraged I became whilst looking for Marc and the many who lost their lives because of it. Two may be considered a drop in the ocean in comparison to the havoc my grief caused.

  We all took a seat beside the fire slightly back from the witches, who didn’t bother trying to conceal the fact we weren’t welcome. I gazed skyward, the stars clear and bright surrounded the pearly half-moon. Bizarre, because on the way to camp, rain spattered the windows of the SUV relentlessly.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” a young, blonde witch said, shuffling up next to me.

  I glanced over, surprised she wanted to talk to me. She was the young witch Grace argued with. The one I later discovered in Freya’s bed. The girl had been terrified when we tore her out of bed and threatened the three of them.

  “Quite,” I replied.

  “How’s Grace?” she whispered, her gaze flitting around.

  “She’s all right now, I think.”

  “She made up with her mom, huh?”

  “Yeah, thankfully. Grace needs to be with her own kind to make sure she stays safe.” I said it gently in case the girl had any idea that Grace may return here. I would make damn sure Grace would never be put in danger again.

  “I never drank her blood. It made me uneasy watching her give it to everyone.”

  “Smart girl.” I looked away from her face and back up to the stunning display in the sky.

  “It’s enchanted inside camp.”

  “What is?” I asked, flitting my glance back to her to see she admired the constellations, too. “The sky?”

  “Yes. Each night, we’re treated to the star show, and during the day, bright, beautiful sunshine with sprinkles of rain. That’s how we manage to grow so much. The lady whose son was murdered by your friend, controls the weather.”

  “Oh, okay. Does each witch have a speciality or something?” I asked, cocking my head. This had been possibly the most practical conversation I encountered with a witch thus far.

  She huffed out laughter. “I guess you could say that.” She paused, as if considering how best to explain. “I suppose it’s like academia. You’re accomplished at some subjects and shit at others.”

  Now I laughed. Her explanation had been perfect.

  “I miss her.” The girl put her hand over her mouth, tears trickling down her cheeks.

  “Hey. Don’t cry. I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I’m certain she misses you, too,” I lied, hoping the girl would spill her guts, figuratively speaking.

  “I thought the best way to get over her was to go to bed with Freya and Tommy, but to be honest, it didn’t help at all.” Her voice broke as she spoke, and a sob escaped at the end of her sentence.

  I patted the girl’s arm. “Been there, done that. You’re right. It doesn’t help.” I was wrong about the argument being about a plan to sleep with Freya or a demand on the head witch’s part.

  “I just didn’t want her giving away her blood anymore. I witnessed how high and messed up they were all getting over it, and I was scared for her. I told her to go with you and never come back.”

  Good girl. I kicked myself for how I previously judged her. “You totally did the right thing.” I squeezed the girl’s arm.

  “I’m regretting it now though, aren’t I?” Tears wet her face so it gleamed in the firelight.

  I stilled, my spine straightening as I looked across at the others. Charmion summoned me from inside Freya’s house.

  “Go on then. Get the show on the road,” Alex encouraged me. I stood gingerly and stepped over the cobbles.

  Both women lounged in Freya’s office as I entered. Freya beamed at me, as though I were a long-lost friend. Proof she’d changed her tune about me now that I brought along Charmion. The woman must have been like a goddess to this clan, and I planned on discovering why that was eventually, but for now, I had my own shit to sort out.

  Freya rose and sauntered toward me. I flinched before swishing at speed toward the door. The last time a witch touched me had been fucking disastrous.

  “Don’t be afraid, Teagan. She wants to show you something,” Charmion hastily informed me before I had chance to snatch the door open and retreat.

  She raised her fingers to my temple, her smile never faltering, unlike the blood in my stomach.

  Flashes of colour illuminated my mind. I walked along the backstreets of Dublin. Lights laced with noise spilled from the public houses as I passed. My son, Charles, ran along ahead of me, whilst my daughter, Lileth, toddled beside me, her tiny hand resting in mine. I looked down at her, swallowing through my thick throat. My eyes swam with tears, so pleased to see my little girl again.

  I snatched my gaze from her brilliant, big blue eyes and called out. “Charlie, get your behind back here.” My voice lilted with my Dublin accent returned.

  The boy turned, his rosy red cheeks balled and his eyes danced. “Catch me if you can!”

  I scooped Lily
up, laughing as I made after Charlie, who turned into a gate I recognised to be my own. I paused, my breath catching in my throat at the sight of James swaying by the back door. My body tensed with crippling fear. I went out, locking the door, and he hadn’t been able to get in.

  “I’ve been standing here waitin’ on ya, bitch.”

  I scurried past him, taking the key swiftly from my skirt pocket and ordering the children inside, telling them to change and get ready for bed.

  They heard the beatings in the past. My stomach flipped when their sad eyes brimmed with tears as they inspected the latest scratch or bruise marring my skin. I refused to allow them to bear witness to the attacks, too. I closed the door once they got inside. My head jolted at the dull thud as his fist slammed into my cheekbone. My hand flew to cover the searing white-hot pain exploding through my face.

  “Where the feck have you been?” His eyes flashed as I cowered against the door, determined not to allow him entry to the house until he completed his interrogation and issued the necessary beating.

  “We’ve been to me mother’s.”

  He probably saw us coming from the wrong direction for that to be true, but I figured it was worth a shot. He pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes wide so I saw the whites the entire way around his pupils.

  “Feckin’ liar,” he spat, his breath drenched with the heady scent of whiskey.

  I hid some money from the weekly shopping and finally managed to stash enough to treat Charlie and Lily to some sweets. James spent most of our money in Finn’s Bar, just around the corner from his workplace. He usually returned much later than this, both children asleep and I in bed myself, keeping my eyes tightly shut when he stumbled around our bedroom. He must have run out of money and exhausted his usual lines of credit to have come home this early.

  He pressed my body hard against the door, dipping momentarily to rip up the hem of my skirts.

  “Please, James. Please, no,” I quietly begged, fearing my neighbours would listen to what he was doing to me in the yard. Or worse still, the children arriving at the door for any reason.

  He ignored me, his face lined by the way his lips were pulled back over his teeth. He worked his zipper down with one hand as he snatched at my panties with the other. My chest heaved and bile burned the back of my throat. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, readying myself for his rough entrance, but all I felt was a rush of air brushing over my hot cheeks.

  I flinched, easing my eyes open enough to see James lying in the muddy yard, his eyes searching the tiny space for an answer. I turned and ran inside before he could accuse me of pushing him.

  I blinked again, finding myself back in Ancrum, Freya and Charmion staring hard at my trembling body.

  Charmion sauntered over to me and stood next to Freya. “Do you recall that happening?”

  I did. It had been three nights before my death and subsequent turning. When I was turned, I spent time exacting my revenge and ensuring James wouldn’t be left in charge of our children by taking him from this world. The memory had escaped me. I put it down to luck at the time, but the way Charmion and Freya studied my face told me something entirely different occurred in my yard that night.

  “Was someone else there?”

  Eighteen

  Secret Love Song

  “It was Bartholomew.” Her soft smile only enraged me.

  “That proves nothing,” I spat. “You dragged me all the way out here for nothing. So what?” I shrugged dramatically and held my raised shoulders in place. “Perhaps he wanted me alive so he could continually threaten my mother. How did you summon the memory? I don’t understand.”

  Freya huffed and rolled her eyes. She turned to Charmion, as though awaiting her permission to continue. I caught half a nod before Freya pressed her fingers to my temple once more.

  Red velvet seared through my vision. My skin tingled from cool air, forcing a shiver over my goose pimpled skin. Strange, because vampires didn’t respond to temperature. My hips moved against my will. I glanced down. I wanted to jerk backward when I saw the top of Bartholomew’s head, his lips on my thigh, his teeth sinking in and drinking from me. My sex lurched, and a moan escaped my lips. I ran my fingers over my body, my pads of my thumbs finding my erect nipples and kneading the rump of my breasts, coated with baby oil, making my skin sheen in the dim light. He gazed up at me, my body still gravitating toward him, my hips seeking out his mouth, my core dripping at the thought of his hot tongue lapping at my apex.

  “Come for me,” he demanded throatily.

  I willed my head to turn, wondering if I would see my crestfallen face peeking through the curtain. This seemed to be the vision I replayed over and over in my mind since I witnessed it for the first time in Dublin, only from a different viewpoint. I couldn’t move. I existed in another’s body and couldn’t control it. My head lolled back as the wetness of his tongue spread divinely over my engorged clitoris, my hands fisting in his hair as I moaned, pulling him closer to me and moving in rhythm with the assault on my flesh. My core built in a sweet sting as I attempted to hold on, but my body jolted as I let go, releasing a strangled moan.

  Again, I was catapulted back to the room with Freya and Charmion. “How did you do that?” I breathed. “You put me in that woman’s body.”

  “You only think that, because you were there and witnessed it,” Freya told me, smiling sweetly. “I hate to admit it, but if mind control was my speciality, as it is Catherine’s, I could concoct anything to show you, either true or imagined.”

  “Then how the fuck am I meant to know what’s real and what’s not? And how can you show me something so accurately when you didn’t witness it?” I whined, helping myself to the nearest vacant seat, slumping and banging my fist to my head. This entire thing was so frustrating. I rubbed my eyes, not caring about the possible streaks of mascara it would leave in its wake.

  “I merely invoke the memory in your mind of certain events. Sort of bring it to the surface. You can do all sorts of funky stuff on top of that, once you learn how.” She paused and glanced about the room, as though searching for her next words. “I understand we haven’t exactly gotten off to the best of starts.” Freya perched on the chair beside me and took my hands away from my eyes. “But I know one truth in all this, and you’ll have to trust me on it. Bartholomew adores you with every fibre of his being. Since you got together, he hasn’t once taken any of the witches here to his bed, no matter how they’ve attempted to seduce him. They can be rather persistent.” She tilted her head coyly.

  I couldn’t help but release a giggle. “I can imagine. You witches have some sort of sex addiction ingrained at puberty.”

  Freya beamed, not disagreeing at all. Even Charmion’s tinkled laughter sounded out.

  I sighed heavily, my shoulders sagging. I fought to keep my thoughts at bay and be positive about what they showed me with the mind control aspect of magic. But worry that I’d been lied to so often over the past few weeks to take anything at face value eradicated my positivity. Finally, I understood why Bartholomew had been so enamoured by Freya.

  “This may explain what Catherine showed me from outside my mother’s back door. In fact, the image went fuzzy, just like the second image you showed me, so I’d venture to say I believe it was a false representation of the actual events.”

  Freya slumped, her smile dissipating. “But…”

  “But…” I dragged in air. Trepidation crawled through my body to admit what I was about to confess, the words never escaping my mouth before. “I can’t be sure Bartholomew wasn’t willingly with that woman. I tried to move when you put me inside the woman’s body. I was stuck, trapped. The thing is, I always suffered in the knowledge that I’m not good enough for him. How could I blame him if he strayed?

  “Everyone keeps telling me how natural it is for vampires to enjoy multiple partners, and I can’t forget Victoria and him were not exclusive. He told me enough times, and each time, it felt like he sought my permission for us
to be the same way.” They continued to survey me. “Which, I may add, I never gave.” I puffed a breath out and turned away.

  “Choose one,” Freya said to me.

  “What?”

  “Choose one of your friends out there. No one fragile.”

  “What are you going to do to them?” I sat up straighter now, seeing the determination on her face.

  Charmion floated beside her. “Darling, are you sure? It will weaken you, and I’m not–”

  Freya held up a hand to silence her. “I’m not sure how else to convince her of how powerful mind control magic is.”

  “Alex,” I said, sure she wouldn’t inflict any lasting damage.

  Freya muttered some sort of incantation under her breath in a language I didn’t understand.

  Alex stepped into the room, his eyes flying wide as he did. “What the fuck are you doing here, Bartholomew?” he screeched at Freya. “You’re meant to be in Ireland.”

  My brow furrowed as he stepped backward. “How can you just sit there after everything he’s done to you?” Alex seethed, staring at me with disbelief.

  I stared at Freya. It was definitely her. “Enough. I believe you.”

  Alex almost collapsed to the floor. I guessed he watched Bartholomew’s image morph back to Freya.

  “Sorry, Alex. Freya was demonstrating how mind control worked.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he bit out, his palm clasped tightly to his chest as he released a breath. “What do we do now?”

  They all turned to stare at me.

  “Now we go and get my fucking boyfriend back.”

  Charmion and Freya offered me the warmest smiles I’d ever seen from either of them, as though I was a failing, lazy pupil who had suddenly passed a test with an A star grade.

  “Wonderful.” Charmion clapped her hands together. “We’ll take the jet first thing tomorrow evening. Freya, I do not trust the Irish witches. We’ll be too exposed if we go alone. You shall lead us.”

  Freya almost fell over, her head moved from side to side and her mouth hung open, then shut again. “But… But… I can’t leave my clan. They’ll be vulnerable. Bartholomew has hidden rabid vampires in the caves not five miles from here. Without my protection–”