by Martha Woods
Chapter 19
“Every food can be summoned using an image of the food itself and the energy you associate it. Generally, witches stick to simple ingredients. Sophisticated dishes are hard; some are nearly impossible. Pumpkin pie is a good example of that. You can probably summon up the feel and the taste, but there are some many spices in there that a single variance can ruin the whole dish.” Margaret was sitting at the kitchen table flipping through what she called her recipe grimoire, a compendium of all of her notes about the energy used to summon specific foods.
“The energy is different for everyone, isn't it?”
“Oh, yes. You're going to need your own journal. My grimoire won't work for you. Here we are.” She stopped at a yellowed page fill with scribbles. “Stuffed Cornish game hen.”
“You want me to make that?”
“I want you to summon the ingredients. Then I want you to make it.”
“Are you kidding?”
“It should come naturally to you, especially since you love cooking.”
Sara sighed. “Fine.” She got up to look over her grandmother's shoulder. “So Cornish game hen. I'm supposed to focus on the feeling of biting into cartilage, thin strips of meat and bone.”
“Yep.”
“That's disgusting. I don't think I can eat it after that.”
“Just try.”’
“Alright.” Sara pulled out a baking pan and held her hands over it, imagining a piece of roasted, white flesh, and how if she bought into it, she would have to be careful not to chomp of any of the bones. Then there would be the tough cartilage wrapped around the end of the drumsticks. She nearly puked at the thought of the red juice oozing out of the bottom. She added a burst energy, channeled it up through her body and jumped back the raw flesh plopped down on the baking pan.
“Sara!”
Margaret jumped out of her chair and ran to the door, her hair flowing behind her.
“Stop!” Sara went to see Stuart standing at the edge of the perimeter.
“I have Caleb. Do you want him to live?”
“We'll find him.” Margaret closed her eyes and raised her hands, summoning a burst of chilled air. “Malleus...”
“Stop!” Sara tackled her to the ground and held her squirming hands down.
“Where is he?”
“You have to come with me.” The monster's tone was cold and comfortable. He was the opposite of his brother. Caleb felt everything. Stuart had found a way to completely detach from his emotions and dull them. It allowed him to do whatever he wanted to do.
“NO!” Margaret shot up off the ground with surprising force, throwing Sara to the ground started summoning the scythe once again.
“I'm leaving.” Sara got up and walked outside the barrier.
“No! No!” Margaret was sobbing.
“I will allow you to live, old witch so long as you stay within your perimeter.
“I'll kill you,” Sara heard her hiss right before Stuart threw her over his shoulder and started running.
Chapter 20
Stuart didn't bother to shield her from the wind. Instead, he allowed the tiny grains of sand and dust to sink into the back of her skull where they stayed embedded while she screamed wildly. These vampires travel a hundred times faster than Caleb, jumping over obstacles, tearing through the city streets so fast nobody would've noticed him. He jumped over something tall, a building maybe. Then entered a dark place where he threw her onto a concrete floor, smiling at the sound of her arm cracking.
“Fuck!” her breath was pounding in time with her heart, a pagan beat that overtook everything in the nearly complete darkness that surrounded her. She had no idea where she was, or what she was doing there, but she could see Stuart standing just a few feet away.
“Stuart no!” Caleb was behind her screaming.
Stuart was on her in an instant with his hand wrapped around her neck. “You're going to watch!”
“He can't move,” Stuart said to her quietly, almost playfully. “He's tied up.”
“How is that even possible?”
“A compound I developed that puts vampires out and weakens their bodies. It's one of a kind, actually.” He sounded rather proud of himself while he tightened his grip on Sara's throat. He was crushing her lymph node glands, and slowly tearing the skin off. She could feel the sharp pang of it tearing on the back of her neck. “You like that?”
“M-m...”
Her voice was strained.
“What was that?” He cocked his head to the side.
“M-Malleus.” She met his eyes.
“That's not going to happen.” He shook his head and reached down to grab her finger. Left hand. “In fact, I don't like the idea of you even trying.” He took her index finger, smiled and caught her eye as he moved Well,his finger slowly up the side.
“What are you doing?” She asked, petrified.
Her answer was a sharp pain, more powerful that anything she'd ever felt in her entire life and a sickening, squishing feel as her index finger tore away at the base. Dark spots clouded her vision. She didn't notice that she was shrieking until she felt her throat go dry and her voice broke. She kept going and going, watching the blood spray out while Stuart aimed her hand so the fountain would spray into his mouth while he gave her a cocky grin.
“I'll kill you! I'll kill you!” Despite the pain and loud whispering sound that was still trying to explode out of Sara's mouth, she could still hear the sound of metal scratching against metal while Caleb struggled to get free.
“Well, that was fun, wasn't it?” Stuart wiped his mouth and used a handkerchief he kept in his velvet jacket to stop the bleeding. “What else should we rip off? Your scalp?” He rubbed her head. “Your nose?” He flicked the top. “Or maybe we could try one of your ears.” He ducked into a whisper, shooting toxic breath that poured down her neck, setting off a series of explosions inside her mind. Each one was accompanied by the sound of crackling flash and white marble turning to dust.
“You're going to die now.” Stuart swiped a black strand of hair away from her eyes. “You hear that Caleb. It's time.”
“Even if she dies, Stuart, it won't stop me from killing you.” Caleb was accepting her death as an inevitability. Her grandmother was in the house crying over her lost family. There was no hope. Everyone already assumed that she was dead, but she wasn't, and she still had power. He would hear her using the scythe and would probably feel the room get cold.
She wasn't going to be able to kill him. She couldn't fight him. There was nothing else that could possibly work.
“How you want to die? Do you expect me to drain your blood? Snap your neck or maybe I could puncture your stomach. That's a fun one. It's one of the most painful ways to go because the stomach acid eats right through you, and it takes forever. So what do you think?”
Sara wasn't being given any choice in the matter, not one thing she said would stop him.
“Sara I love you!”
That was the hardest part. She had a reason to care about her life. After her mother had died, Sarah gave up entirely. She wanted to die, and she felt that way for a long time. Now that she wanted to live, blood was pouring out of the hole where her finger had been. The seething pain was taking over her mind, and all she could think of was how badly she wanted to be with him. She wasn't supposed to die. That's not what her mother would've wanted.
Sara closed her eyes, breathed in deep and feel into the blue pool hidden deep within her gut. It was power but was it enough. He needed the scythe. It was the only power she had now, and the pain from her finger was starting to cause it to boil. Soon it rose up to the surface and her focus traveled with it, up her spine.
It was so cold it would burn anything that touched it. A smile crept up its lips. She still had that fire.
“I guess we'll do the stomach.”
Sara laughed quietly, watching the fire lap at her feet. It spread so fast that Stuart barely noticed. He was too busy gauging the placement of her
stomach. He pulled back his hand with one finger ready to pierce through her skin.
He stepped back, his jaw wide open as that fire engulfed her body. Then, with a single thought her wrath erupted in a ball of flames that stuck to his skin. “Ah!”
The skin on his face disintegrated and turned to ash, revealing the stark white muscle below. It never got farther than that, though. Instead, the skin kept trying to heal itself while the fire ate at it, placing Stuart in a state of perpetual torture that wouldn't stop. Instead, the fire at his whole body, tearing through his chest and eating it while it tried to repair himself, eating his stomach while Sara laughed.
“Stop! Please! Stop!”
“You killed my mother.” She said coldly. Then she turned around. “Caleb? How do I find you?”
“Just keep walking back.” Sara struggled to get away, hindered by the pain where her finger used to be and the deafening sound of Stuart's screams.
“I'm coming.” The light cast a blue glow on the floor around her and eventually stood out enough for her to make out the shape of a golden chain. She followed it as best she could until she reached Caleb who had a chain around his foot.
“Thank God.” He struggled to get up from where he'd collapsed on the floor. He was pale and sweating. “Get rid of the fire.”
She used it to eat through his chains then let it flow into the ground.
“Let's go home, Caleb.”
“Come on.” He picked her up and stopped at his brother's glowing form. “I'm sorry, Stuart, but you did this to yourself.” Stuart was too busy screaming to even notice that Caleb said anything. Caleb ducked down and picked up her finger laying on the concrete.
“Can it be reattached?”
“Yes.” He started running back to the house.
Chapter 21
Margaret was sitting at the edge of the barrier with her grimoire with puffy red eyes when Caleb stopped, holding Sara close in his arms.
“Oh, my god. Is she OK?”
“I'm alright.” Caleb let her down gently. She was trying to ignore the pain in her finger, but the air tore at it while they ran.
“What's that?” Margaret pointed to Sara's finger.
Caleb took his wrist and cut it open. Then he spread drops blood on the inside of the finger. “Give me your hand.”
Sara gave it to him. He pressed the finger back in place and with a maddening itch it reattached immediately. Sara breathed a sigh of relief. The pain was fading every second.
“Grandma, let him in.” Sara said.
“What happened?” She asked skeptically.
“He's burning up in blue fire, but he's still alive. Let him in please.”
Margaret looked to Caleb then back at Sara. “Fine.” She closed her eyes and whispered something. Then she made the motion of opening a gate and something whipped past at light speed and tackled her to the ground. Caleb jolted forward, stopped in front of her and reached down so he could throw Stuart away from her.
Stuart fell to the ground sending a circle of dust flying around him like a mushroom cloud.
“Here,” Caleb helped her up. Then he ran to Sara, and she crashed onto the porch when he threw her down so he could rush to Margaret's side.
“Malleus.” The air got cold.
“I'm sorry Stuart.” Tears were flying down his face.
“Malleus.” Everything seemed to freeze.
Stuart stood up and ran as fast as he could towards Margaret. “AAH!”
Caleb jumped forward and threw him close directly into the scythe's path in front of Margaret. “Why did you do this? You could've lived forever Stuart.”
“Malleus.” Sara pulled back from the shadow, and that took up half the porch.
“Don't.” Stuart was trembling and crying. “Caleb...” He faced with brother, apparently desperate to find a way to live.
“No, Stuart. You did this to yourself.”
“Malleus.” The shadow transformed itself into the shape of a scythe. Sara had never felt so cold in her entire life. She could get into its path. She panicked and jumped off the porch just in time for it to reach Stuart. Caleb collapsed at his side.
Sara moved fast, knelt down and held him while he beat on his brother's body screaming at the top of his lungs. “Why?” He sobbed. “Why did you have to do this, Stuart?”
“It's OK, Caleb.” She pulled him in, and he sobbed into her chest. They finally got him inside after about an hour and let him sit at the table crying.
Sara turned to her Grandmother. “He loves me. I need you to accept that.”
Margaret hugged Sara and said, “I do.”
