by Fawn Lowery
“It’s too dark to see, Marcus.” She felt helpless once again, straining her eyes trying to see through the darkness. If there was a statue and the remaining brother was trapped inside, it was too dark to locate it.
“Come. We’ll fly up to the tower and have a look around.”
She called upon her witchcraft and shape shifted into a bird, then took flight, winging her way upward to the towering roof of the castle. Earlier she had perched on one of the turrets while waiting for someone to open the door of the castle so she could slip inside. Alas, she had no recollection of seeing any grotesque statues like the one in her vision.
She lit on the tall tower, her eyesight now keen because of her bird state. She peered around, feeling remorse flood her body. There were no grotesque statues in sight. She had failed Marcus again.
CHAPTER 19
“I am certain Chandler is here. I feel the kinship.”
“As do I, brother.”
Ronna looked from Marcus to Jarharis, then back to Marcus. His dark eyes were imploring, beseeching her to find their remaining lost brother. She glanced at Duella standing across the room. He appeared resigned to whatever fate Drucella had brought upon his brother. His attention was turned to the amulet lying in his palm.
“We have to search every room in the castle.” Ronna placed her hands on her hips and gazed at the three vampires. “And we need to find the other witches and question them.”
“Summon them forth and we shall drink their blood.”
“Easy, Jarharis. You shall have your fill of witch blood before we leave this place.” Marcus turned a weary face to Ronna. “The time grows short. It will soon be light.”
She knew he was saying that soon he would be unable to help her search for Chandler. It made her feel pressured to hurry and locate him. But they had searched the castle roof and found nothing. She was doing her best to interpret the vision from the amulet. What more could she do?
“Perhaps the witches know something of a grotesque statue.”
Before she could finish her thought, the three remaining members of the coven glided into the room. They were cloaked in long black dresses reaching to their ankles and fright wreathed their faces. They stopped once inside the room, their eyes darting from one vampire to the other.
An aura of impending death permeated the vast room. Ronna glanced from vampire to witch, identifying the threats from the bloodsuckers. The witches cringed, knowing their fate. Ronna’s insides shook with anticipation. Any second she expected one of the brothers to grab a witch and end her life—without benefit of interrogation.
Feeling as though it was up to her to keep the brothers separated from the witches, she hurried across the room, putting herself between the groups.
“You are one of us.”
Ronna shook her head. “I do not cast evil spells and imprison people. I am not like the witches in the coven.”
“Please, do not let the vampires kill us.”
The witches drew together in a tight knot, their arms entwined as though forming their own protective prison.
Ronna sensed their fright and rightfully so. The vampires were bloodthirsty and it was evident from the way they leered at the young witches. Their fate was doomed.
“I have seen a statue in a vision,” Ronna began. “It is ugly and perched on a turret.”
“We could look in Drucella’s viewing pot,” one of the witches hurried to say.
“Nay. The viewing pot is for Drucella’s eyes only. It will tell us nothing.”
“And the dark one is angry.”
An arched brow lifted. “Why? Tell me, or I’ll turn you all over to the vampires.”
The witches gasped in unison.
“Drucella only imprisoned the vampire. She did not kill him.” The witch glanced at Marcus. “She disobeyed the dark one. That is why he is angry.”
Ronna glanced at Marcus. Drucella truly loved him and because of her feelings, she had dared to defy the dark one.
“Drucella desired immortality—for herself and the coven—but…”
Her voice trailed off as Marcus took a step toward the coven.
“You were all aware of my fate? The coven knew of my imprisonment? Then where is my brother Chandler? Drucella has hidden him within these castle walls—reveal his hiding place or I shall sink my fangs—“
“Marcus!” Ronna grasped his coat sleeve, pulling him back. His eyes were red glowing coals in his head. Already he was planning an attack on the witches should they not divulge Chandler’s whereabouts.
Ronna thought briefly of Tiana and what she had said when she captured her. Jarharis had been standing sentry at the front door of the castle and Duella had been lying right at the door of the secret room in the cellar—could Tiana be telling the truth? She raked one hand through her hair, agitated with the whole affair. Wouldn’t it ever be over?
Anger stiffened Marcus’ big body. He allowed Ronna to push him aside, though he didn’t go far. He lingered near the huddled witches, his threat very visible and deadly.
Ronna knew that she couldn’t keep the vampires from feasting on the witches. They were set to carry out their threats the moment they were deemed of no further use. The fright on their faces tugged at her heart. But then, she cautioned herself, they were adept at using their powers—so unlike herself. A shiver of awareness raced up her backbone as she gazed at the frightened three. Were it not for Marcus’ commanding their wills, they would surely be gone from the castle.
They can’t help us, Marcus.
Stand aside, my love. It is my duty to destroy the coven before I take leave of this place.
You frighten me.
I mean you no harm.
It’s your love of blood that frightens me.
I cannot help what I am, my sweet. My fate is sealed.
Ronna turned and walked to the far side of the room, her hands covering her ears. She couldn’t bear to watch or hear the witches’ pleading cries. Tears sprang to her eyes as she hurried to shape shift and fly from the room. Her sense of right and wrong was taking a severe beating.
The castle was eerily quiet once she flew from the great room. She flew the length of the corridor and found herself inside Drucella’s bedchamber before she dared land and shape shift back to her human form. The realization that the vampires were murdering the witches down the hall in the great room brought tears to her eyes. And her growing feelings for Marcus were being questioned. How could she fall in love with a vampire—knowing what she did about vampire life?
Tears of anguish rolled down her cheeks as she questioned everything about her association with Marcus. How could she bear to let him kiss her? How could she make love with him?
“He has this uncanny power to bend my will.” She sniffed back a new barrage of tears. She threw both hands into the air suddenly. “For Pete’s sake! He knows what I’m thinking right now!”
She had been through a previous episode before—only it was when Marcus was asleep. Only when he was asleep was she privy to her own thoughts. It was an unsettling realization. She had fallen in love with a man who was a vampire—a creature of the night who had manipulative powers over her.
She felt helpless suddenly. The need to be consoled raced through her insides. She shook her head, ordering the feelings to subside. She forced her eyes to look about the room, to search for something out of the ordinary, something that might give a clue to where Drucella had hidden Chandler.
The room was as they had left it. The large bed sat in the middle of the floor, its linens askew where Marcus had lain when he was under Drucella’s spell. There were no telltale signs of the feminine side of the witch. There was no closet bulging with clothes, or bureaus teeming with perfume—
“This is eleven-eighty-five for Pete’s sake. There isn’t any mall with clothes and perfume for sale.” She laughed suddenly, then grimaced. She was so lucky to live in the future. She gazed around at the stark appearance of the room.
“I doubt Drucella hi
d Chandler in her bedchamber.”
Ronna whirled around as Marcus appeared in the room.
“Damn! Haven’t you scared me enough tonight?” She clutched her heart as if having a heart attack. “Is the carnage over?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “The witch coven has met its end. And the bodies are mere ashes in the hearth. My brothers are well sated.” He smiled. “They have taken leave of the castle as well.”
Ronna pinned him with her gaze. There was something about the way he was smiling that gave her the impression his brothers had gone looking for sex. She stifled a shiver of lust. It would be simply delicious to partake of Drucella’s big bed and get laid—except for the fact that the whole castle gave her the creeps.
“I sense your arousal.”
“Forget it. Let’s just find your brother and get out of here.”
“Suppose we have a look at Drucella’s viewing pot.”
“It’s worth a try.” She led the way out of the bedchamber, a bit relieved that she didn’t have to worry about Marcus tricking her into sex—out of sight—out of mind—and headed down the dark hallway.
They found the spell room and pushed through the door, caution at the fore. A fire burned in the hearth and a bevy of candles lit the area. The long table she remembered from when they hid in the wall and peeped through a tiny crack, sat near the single window in the room, laden with vials filled with assorted liquids. Numerous jars of dried herbs and powders sat lined up on one corner of the table. And in the center of the floor, sat the black pot that belonged to Drucella.
Ronna approached the pot with caution. In the pit of her stomach she dreaded looking inside—afraid that the dark one would somehow steal her soul and make her do his bidding—as he had commanded the others of the coven. She felt sweat pop out on her forehead and nervousness well up in her chest.
She hesitated, allowing Marcus to approach the pot first. He peered into it, then raised his head and locked gazes with her.
“There’s nothing inside.”
A nervous smile pulled at her lips. “Perhaps it only works for Drucella, as the witch said.” She knew as she uttered the words that Marcus, being a vampire, would have no power over the viewing pot. He could neither conjure up the dark one nor be able to view anything the pot produced. She pulled in a steadying breath and stepped up to the pot.
She laid one hand on the rim of the vessel, feeling the cold clay beneath her palm. It held no menace in its inert state. She felt its rough surface and peered cautiously over the edge into the abyss below. As Marcus had said, it appeared empty.
She thought of several different spells she could cast to evoke the pot, but the idea that came to mind first was to cast an object belonging to Drucella into the darkness and see what happened. She glanced about the room—there was little to choose from. Drucella had few possessions—unless she had them concealed from the other witches.
The idea dawned on her then to cast a revealing possession spell. She chanted a few chosen words and peered about, spying a small decorative box sitting on the high window ledge. She quickly shape shifted and flew up to retrieve the box.
It was jewel encrusted, displaying many ruby gems along its rounded top. An oval crest bearing crossed swords decorated its center. She picked up the box in her talons and flew back to where Marcus stood. She dropped the box on the floor at his feet and shape shifted to her own body.
“This box belonged to my mother.” He gazed at Ronna with a surprised look on his face. “Drucella must have stolen it.” He sighed and lifted the lid.
Ronna watched as he removed a small brooch from the box.
“I remember my mother wearing this brooch. It was a gift from my father. I was just a boy.” His brows drew together. “My mother died a suspicious death. She was wearing this when—“
His anger engulfed her, made her reel on her feet. She grabbed the rim of the viewing pot to keep from falling down.
“Marcus. Marcus. Don’t. For God’s sake. I’m going to be sick.”
He shape shifted right before her eyes and left the room so quickly she couldn’t believe her eyes. One second he was standing before her, enraged over the death of his mother, and the next, he was changing into a bird and flapping his wings so rapidly that the wind currents in the room nearly whipped her hair off her head.
“What in the hell—“
She dropped to the floor at the side of the viewing pot and held her head in her hands. Of all the things to happen—Marcus becoming irate and leaving her to hunt for his brother on her own—where had he gone in such a fit?
CHAPTER 20
“Throw this unsavory leech into the pot and see what appears.”
Ronna raised her head and saw Marcus. He stood in the middle of the floor holding Pemi. The frightened little man clung to Marcus' arm with shaking hands. The pleading look in his red-rimmed eyes begged Ronna to save him.
She scrambled to her feet as Marcus tossed Pemi onto the floor. He fell with a thud and scampered around behind Ronna.
“Please, do not kill me.”
“Marcus?” She turned a puzzled face to Marcus. “What are you doing?”
“Pemi is the thief who sneaked into my father’s house and stole my mother’s brooch. He carried it back to Drucella so she could cast the spell that took my mother’s life.”
Anger wreathed his features. His eyes began to glow in prelude of taking Pemi’s life.
Ronna glanced at Pemi. He cowered behind the viewing pot, soft sobs choking his throat.
“I had to obey the witch. She tortured me and threatened to take my life.”
Marcus moved so quickly Ronna hadn’t time to help Pemi. He snatched the little man up by the nape of his neck and thrust his bedraggled body into the witch’s black pot. His pitiful cries for help quickly died out as a torrent of black ash spewed from the open mouth of the tub.
“Marcus!” Ronna covered her eyes with her hands, shocked that he had so callously ended Pemi’s life. “Enough killing!”
He crossed the room and took hold of her shoulders. “Ronna, you mistakenly label me a murderer. I assure you I do not kill just for the sake of killing.” He heaved a laden sigh. “Drucella and her coven have menaced my family for many years. You see the consequence of my brother’s fate. She doomed them to sleep for ten thousand years. Had it not been for you—“
“I know, Marcus. My curiosity started a succession of events that I can’t seem to end.” She allowed him to pull her into his embrace. She laid her cheek against his solid shoulder and closed her eyes. She was weary. Her body was tired. She needed sleep though she dared not close her eyes. She had to find Chandler so she could return to her own life.
Marcus smoothed one palm across her hair, soothing her senses with his light touch. He held her tightly, supporting her body with his own. He kissed the top of her head.
“You have had a long night. You need rest. I can feel your weariness.”
“We have to search the castle again. We have to find your brother.” She pushed out of his embrace suddenly. “I wonder if Drucella has another hidden room where the statue sits.” Her brows drew together in contemplation. “If the statue was in plain sight, we would have discovered it by now, Marcus.” She felt buoyed by her realization.
“I will have to leave you soon.”
She glanced at the window in the room. The sun was about to rise.
“Go. Be safe, Marcus. I will search the castle by myself.”
A look of concern wreathed his handsome features. “Should you find Chandler, and awaken him, he will need to feed.”
“I won’t touch him until you come to me again.” She forced a smile. “Both your brothers wanted to bite me the second they laid eyes on me—“
“They wanted only to feed, my love. They were famished after their long sleep.”
A question suddenly came to mind. She hesitated, then felt prompted to voice it after seeing the questioning look on his face.
“Is it not that way
with you, Marcus—are you not famished after you awaken?”
He shook his head. “Being a vampire requires me to replenish my body’s energy source on a regular basis. Going so long without blood weakens the mind and the body. When you awakened Duella and Jarharis they were crazed with the need for blood because they had gone so long without it.”
“As you had when I…touched your…cock and awakened you. You bit my neck and drank my blood.” She raised her hand and touched the place where he had bitten her neck. “You drank my blood twice, Marcus. How many times before—“
“I took only a small amount of blood each time I fed on you, my love.” He raked one hand through his hair. “I will bestow the gift of immortality upon you—when you decide you want me to, not before.”
She stared at him, keeping her thoughts from forming because of his ability to read her mind.
The room was growing light. She sensed his need to leave, to sleep the slumber of the undead.
“I fear for you here alone. Come. You must return to Morganford Manor with me.”
He reached for her and once he touched her hand, she lost all ability to refuse him.
You control me so easily.
You are my soul mate, Ronna. I can sense your every mood, know your every thought, anticipate your every desire. We belong together, forever.
* * * *
Ronna awakened with a start. Her heart was thundering in her chest like she had been running a marathon. She sat up in bed and glanced around the room. She was alone—except for Tiana sitting in the glass cage in the corner of the room.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. She had slept—once the images of Marcus’ brothers killing the witches stopped bombarding her mind. She raked her fingers through her hair. Would it be such a terrible crime if she just wished herself home?
