by Fawn Lowery
“Milady. Are you all right?”
Ronna levered herself into a sitting position on the hard ground. The woman servant, who had brought her food shortly after she arrived at the manor, stood over her, a curious look on her face.
She accepted the help to stand and brushed the dust from her jeans and sweater. Gazing around, she saw no sign of Drucella. Quickly she turned to the main room of the manor. Last she remembered there was fire and water ravaging the room.
With reservations, she peeked inside, craning her neck and looking intently from wall to wall. There were no signs of destruction—Drucella had fixed everything—or else her spells had meant to scare her and were meaningless otherwise.
She scratched her head, combing her fingers through her tousled hair. She had to figure out how to deal with the bitch—or else figure a way to leave Morganford. She raised her hand and clutched the amulet hanging around her neck. Her curiosity surrounding the jewel suddenly became ten fold.
She closed herself inside the manor, her mind made up to practice her powers—such as she was capable. Drucella meant to kill her merely because she was there. She thought suddenly of Marcus’ swords. He had not returned Drucella’s love and doomed himself forever—or at least until he arrived in Ronna’s midst.
She heaved a laden sigh. The mere thought that she was embroiled in turmoil between a twelve-century witch and her lover vampire was hard to imagine—even for a witch. She pushed her sweater sleeves up, preparing to practice her witchcraft. She bit her bottom lip. Her powers were so limited—and yet she felt certain she was capable of much more.
She closed her eyes and thought about lunch, willing a cheeseburger and malt to appear on the coffee table. Opening her eyes, she saw that indeed, a sandwich and drink awaited her. She waved one hand and sent the food away. It disappeared with a wink, leaving the plate it sat on behind.
“I’m such an amateur.”
She spread both arms and closed her eyes, willing herself to rise from the floor. Her body contorted, her gut ached, her head pounded. Her eyes flashed open as she felt her ankles grow lax. She looked down, discovering she was inching upward leaving the floor behind.
A tremor of fright raced through her insides. She was really levitating her body off the floor.
‘All witches can fly.’
Marcus' words came quickly to mind. She accessed the situation as she hovered only a few inches off the ground. What did she need to do?
“Fly, dammit! Fly about the room!”
The sudden release of power shot her toward the ceiling. She let out a loud shriek and raised her hands over her head fearing she would hit her head on the massive beams stretching the width of the room. A second of flight, and she hovered just beneath the beams, her arms and legs outstretched, her heart pounding.
Scared, she couldn’t bring herself to look down—to see the floor ten feet beneath her body. She held her breath, trying to make her body as light as possible. Now that she had managed to zoom up to the ceiling—how did she get down?
The mere thought brought her lowering slowly to the floor. She pulled in a quick breath as a wide smile broke across her face.
“All I have to do is think about what I want to do! Damn! Who knew it would be so simple?”
CHAPTER 11
Ronna flew from one side of the room to the other, landing softly on the floor each time and then achieving a rapid liftoff merely by thinking of flight. She was immensely pleased with herself and her newfound ability. Maybe she had Drucella to thank for her finally figuring out how to fly. The threat of death was a powerful deterrent by any account.
She shuddered at the thought of going toe to toe with a practiced witch—especially one as evil as Drucella. She massaged her temples with her fingertips, trying to assuage the headache threatening her brain. She needed to be clear headed and she needed to be on top of her game.
Tonight we sneak into Drucella’s castle and look for Marcus' brothers.
The thought brought fear racing around inside her. She could think of a million things she would rather be doing—having her fingernails pulled out one by one held more appeal. She shivered and put the thought out of her head.
Practice, you inept witch! Practice!
Ronna, you are a lovely witch. Do not be so hard on yourself.
Marcus.
I will join you soon, my love.
His words careened through her. Did he indeed love her? Or was he merely placating her because he needed her help in rescuing his brothers?
Ronna? I feel your disbelief.
She sighed, feeling as though she had wounded him.
“You are my life mate.”
She jerked her head around, spying Marcus standing by the door of the room. His large body was draped in a long black cape, the collar standing up around his ears. His long black hair was loose atop his shoulders. His dark eyes held her gaze as his full lips pulled slowly into a smile.
“Oh, Marcus.”
She ran into his arms and the events of the day began spilling out of her mouth. She needed his strength to console her doubts and fears.
“Come. I have a surprise for you.”
He enfolded her inside his cape and instantly they were airborne, rising magically through the door and into the nighttime sky.
Ronna gulped in a breath of air, the sudden action sending fear shooting though her nerves. She clung to Marcus' shoulders, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and holding on for dear life.
“Do not fear. You are capable of flight on your own.”
“I know.” Her voice was shaky. “I flew about the great room today.”
He chuckled and suddenly flung her body into the air.
She shrieked and opened her arms, catching her body on invisible air currents. She held her breath and hovered, feeling the coolness of the night against her face.
Do not fear, Ronna. All witches can fly.
I’ll get you for this, Marcus!
Fill your mind with the thought of flight, my sweet.
She tried to shut out his thoughts—to concentrate on the lesson she had given herself earlier in the day. She began to feel relaxed as her body rose upward, carried along on the slight evening breeze. She rose into the treetops, brushed against the barren limbs with her arm as she soon left them behind.
A smile spread across her face as she realized she was indeed flying under her own violation. She gazed overhead at the stars in the sky, scanned the horizon beyond the treetops, and dared to look below her body to the ground beneath. Gradually the sensation began to feel natural to her. She hovered and soared, dipped and swooped like a bird in flight. The smile on her face spread wider as her confidence rose.
Marcus? Where are you?
I am here, my sweet. Look to your right.
She turned her head and saw nothing at first, then she made out a small bird-like creature flying beside her.
I must try shape shifting, Marcus.
Merely have the thought, Ronna. And it shall be.
She considered his words as she stared at the small animal flying so close by. The thought suddenly filled her with fright. It was all so new to her—flying, and now daring to shape shift.
Ronna, we are nearing Drucella’s castle.
Oh shit!
All thoughts of trying something new fled her mind. She felt the urge to turn around and head for Morganford, but Marcus' words halted her thoughts in mid-sentence.
It is time we searched for my brothers, Ronna.
In the blink of an eye, he dove through the night sky and disappeared from sight. Ronna held her arms out and veered her body toward the ground. Had Marcus landed somewhere amidst the trees beneath them? She aimed her feet and brought her body down slowly amidst the barren boughs.
She glimpsed him in her midst moments before he took hold of her hand.
“This way.”
She marveled at the way he had so quickly changed from flying bird to a man again. Now they tramped through the t
angled underbrush of a forest and Ronna could do nothing except follow him and wonder about her own abilities yet discovered. She had flown for the first time in her life—risen above the trees and soared like a bird—
“Drucella’s castle is on the hill.”
Ronna followed his pointing hand. High atop a jagged mountaintop loomed a massive stone fortress with sharp spiked turrets stabbing at the sky. She drew in a quick breath. The nighttime sky lent a foreboding aura to the stone structure. The sound of rushing water sounded somewhere nearby.
He grasped her hand. “The secret passage is this way.”
He rose into the air with Ronna at his side. Quickly they descended to a craggy beach strewn with large boulders at the waters edge. The tide was low, opening the rocky hillside to view.
A giant stone façade rose upward, stabbing sharply at the nighttime sky like a menacing demon. Fear snaked up Ronna’s spine as she followed Marcus across the beach to the barren face of the mountain.
“We must change or else we will be unable to slip inside the fissure.”
A blond brow lifted. “You’ve been here before.”
He didn’t reply, though he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
She had wondered where he went at night when he left her. She had supposed he went into the village to feed on the inhabitants but it seemed that was not always the case. He had been searching for his brothers and in the midst of his search, discovered Pemi trying to escape the witch.
“I’ve never even thought about shape shifting, Marcus. I’m not sure I can do it.”
He squeezed her hand. “Hold on to my hand.”
In an instant a spark of magic tugged at her body, pulling her closer and closer to the ground. She blinked her eyes at Marcus, trying to see his shrunken form through the murky darkness.
“Are we elf size? How did you do that?”
“Shhhh. Drucella will hear us. Come.”
He led the way, inching though a mere slit in the face of the mountain. Creeping along slowly, the rocky shelf at their backs, they made their way inside the rock. It smelled of the ocean and marine life. Ronna found the odor engulfing. She stifled the urge to cough, to clear her lungs of the stench, but she didn’t dare make a sound lest Drucella hear and put an end to their lives.
They traveled upward, deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain. Silence surrounded them, yet the odor they first encountered grew in intensity. The path became steep, causing Ronna to pant as she followed Marcus further and further into the stone and closer and closer to the evil Drucella.
A dim glow shown within the crevice of the mountain as the path grew wider. A number of passages stemmed off the main route, leading upward and to the left and right. Marcus hesitated only a moment before choosing the opening on the right. A low hum came to their ears as they drew near a larger opening. Marcus cautioned her by squeezing her hand.
Do not make a sound. We are coming upon the central room of the castle.
Do you suppose she can hear my heart racing? I’m scared, Marcus.
I will protect you with my life.
You’re dead—remember?
He glanced over his shoulder at her.
In the dim light of the passageway she thought she saw his eyes glowing a brilliant red—but by the time she questioned her own eyesight, he had turned his head away.
A flash of light suddenly appeared at the end of the passageway, fiery red with amber sparks that rose and burned out. The low hum of voices sounded louder, drawing them forward. Marcus halted his feet mere inches from an opening that led into the chamber.
Ronna’s lower jaw dropped open. The room was circular, with giant spires rising upward to a tall ceiling. In the center of the room, a large cauldron sat. Thick black smoke rose in a billowing wisp from the rim of the pot. A witch stood nearby, a long paddle in one hand. Periodically, she placed the paddle into the pot and stirred it around.
A large table sat to one side of the cauldron. Numerous glass vials containing assorted colored ingredients sat strewn across its surface. A movement from the far side of the room announced the arrival of more witches, each gowned in long black robes. Ronna strained to see their faces—which one was Drucella?
Drucella is not among them.
There are five. Drucella said the coven contained seven witches—
She broke off her thought as a new fear arose inside her. Drucella may have been telling the truth when she said there were seven Morganford witches. Unconsciously she raised her hand and clutched the amulet hanging between her breasts. She hadn’t been so scared since she watched the movie Dracula alone when she was seven.
Seven.
Marcus glanced over his shoulder at her.
Red eyes! She hadn’t been hallucinating! His eyes were red!
This may not be the time to ask this question—but why are your eyes red, Marcus? They remind me of taillights on a car.
He squeezed her hand and she felt his laughter.
I haven’t any idea what a car is or taillights but you sound humorous.
There’s nothing funny about this. What are you doing with your eyes?
Watch.
He turned his head and looked through the opening into the room where the witches were gathered. The cauldron spewed its black smoke as one witch stirred it with the long paddle. The other witches were scattered about the room. He turned his red gaze on the witch closest to the opening.
The witch suddenly fell to the floor.
What the hell happened? What did you do?
I merely willed her to come to me and since she is bound by Drucella’s order, she cannot approach a vampire without losing her life. In defense, she chose to faint. She will not be able to move for as long as I am in her presence.
Drucella is jealous of the other witches! She wants you for herself!
Well, she can’t have me.
He squeezed Ronna’s hand.
My heart belongs to you, my sweet Ronna. I love you.
His words made her knees weak. She stared though the dim light at him, unable to make out his features except for the outline of his body. He loved her? A part of her felt like crying—while reality dug its ugly claws into her brain. He’s a vampire—for God’s sake!
She found it hard to return her attention to the witches beyond the opening—Marcus' words racing round inside her mind. The addition of new sounds finally commanded she peer through the opening once more. The other witches had discovered the witch lying on the floor and come to see about her. They hovered over her still body, murmuring quietly among themselves.
What are they saying?
They think she ate something that didn’t agree with her. They are going to take her to bed.
How can you hear them talking? I can’t make out a word.
He looked at her again, his red eyes glowing.
I have increased hearing—one of my vampire gifts. He shrugged his shoulders. Though the whole fucking vampire thing is more like one big booby prize.
She bit her lip. She felt sorry for him suddenly—doomed to a life as a vampire with no end in sight—save a stake through the heart. She gave his hand a squeeze in reassurance.
You used my naughty word, you naughty boy. She felt her panty become moist and had to fight the urge to touch his groin.
The witch was carried from the room and the witch stirring the pot began to chant. Ronna listened with curious ears as the wisp of smoke grew in size, rising to the ceiling and covering the jagged stones in a thick blanket.
The other witches returned to the room and joined in the chant, holding hands and circling the pot. Their voices raised in unison, their words foreign to Ronna’s ears. She listened and clutched the amulet suspended around her neck.
The words drummed into her brain, over and over again, until she thought she would scream. Then, as though finally opening a package that had been sealed forever, the words began to make sense. One by one, she translated the words, put them into perspective and felt a new aw
areness growing inside her. The keen edge of fear slid menacingly along her nerve endings. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Cold chills settled along her spine.
The witches are summoning the power of the devil!
CHAPTER 12
She couldn’t say exactly how she knew what the witches were chanting—only that she somehow had the ability to decipher their foreign words. She clutched Marcus' hand and stared through the opening, anticipating the worse.
A noise at the door of the chamber brought the witches chanting to a quick halt. The appearance of Drucella was quick and distasteful as she arrived in a wild gust of wind that swept about the room and delivered the worst stench known to man. The four witches in the room held their noses and retched noisily.
Drucella whirled about the room, her black robe and long blond hair catching the breeze and standing out from her body in stiff sheets. She named the witches one by one—
“Esmerelda! Penelope! Eliza! Griselda!”
She flew about the room, knocking over the vials on the table and fanning the witches’ robes, whipping their hair in their eyes until they were forced to cover their faces with their hands.
“You have been lax in your duties. You have allowed Morah to fall victim to my spell! You shall all pay!”
The wind whipped and roared about the room, causing a whirlwind of dust to rise from the floor. It swirled in bitter rivulets around the witches, causing them to cry out and beg Drucella for mercy.
“Spare us! We are one with you!”
“The vampire Marcus is in our midst! You were not on guard. I saw what he did to Morah.”
“We have not seen the vampire, your highness. We have not!”
Their cries were mournful and Ronna watched in horror as Drucella continued to berate and torture her sister witches. She bound them with their own cloaks and cast them against the wall to writhe and moan with pain.
As quickly as she swept into the room, she departed. The dust settled. The smoke gathered against the ceiling fell slowly to the floor. The simmering cauldron once more bubbled quietly as the fire beneath its black bottom licked about its rounded sides.
