The Return (The Witch Hunter Saga)

by Nicole R. Taylor

  Copyright © 2013 Nicole R. Taylor

  Kindle Edition– published 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Regina Wamba – Mae I Design

  Nothing is ever certain.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lake District, United Kingdom

  Autumn, 43AD

  Aeriaya was the last daughter of the stars to walk the earth.

  The last of the race known as the Celestines. She was twenty five of what the humans called years and she alone held the weight of an impossible responsibility on her shoulders. She was to be the last caretaker of the earth.

  Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of the forest, casting its dappled fingers through the deep green grass below. It was an abnormally warm day, the earth still damp from the morning mist, thousands of tiny dewdrops clinging to Spanish moss covered trees.

  Aeriaya wandered through the wood, her long pale fingers playing through the light, savoring the small points of warmth. Coming to a clearing she smiled, her long silver hair blowing across her face in the sudden breeze. The sun had coaxed the little field to come alive with small white flowers, their yellow centers bright and happy. Pulling her hair back into place, she walked out into the sunlight, beginning to gather as many of the blossoms as she could carry. She knew that her mother would love them, they were simple yet stunning.

  Catching a glimpse of a figure approaching her from the side she shook her head. She wasn't meant to be out walking today, but she needed the peace of the forest, if only for an hour or two. Smiling, she turned, expecting to see her brother emerge from the forest, come to take her home. He had a habit of following her and playing tricks when she least expected it. Instead, she gasped as she caught sight of a menacing figure in the tree line, shadowed by the forest around him. Dropping the flowers in surprise, she took a hesitant step back. He was covered head to foot in black heavy linen and leather clothing, not an inch of skin showing. A large hood had been pulled low over his eyes, shielding his face from the sunlight. She took a few steps back, fear creeping into her heart, knowing that if she ran, she wouldn't be able to escape.

  A satisfied smirk pulled at his lips as he watched her back away. "Celestine," he whispered.

  How did he get here? He shouldn't have been able to find the clearing, let alone get into the forest. She should have sensed his approach, but even now, it was as if she were alone. He was not one of them, neither was he human. He was... dead?

  Aeriaya stood frozen in fear, not able to tear her gaze away from him. Something was terribly wrong.

  Before she could react, the man lunged forward, faster than she thought possible, and grasped her around the waist, flinging her over his shoulder. Looking within herself, she sought the coil of power that was the center of her being. Her parents always taught her to use it for good, that to kill and destroy was wrong. Surely this time was different? She let her power wash over her, but nothing happened. It sputtered and died, leaving her empty.

  "No!" she cried, beating her fists against the man's shoulder. It couldn't be. "No!" Letting out a blood-curdling scream, she beat her fists harder against his back, trying to free herself, but his grip was like iron. He was so strong, her fists and raking fingernails had no effect on him. Even when she tried to bite and kick, he continued to run.

  The forest grew dark as he took her further and further away from her home, the air colder and more desolate. She pleaded with the man to let her go, but he wouldn't respond, instead running faster, never seeming to tire.

  She didn't know how much time had passed, but before long, she was dropped like a stone onto a hard floor, the air pushed from her lungs. Taking heaving gulps, she looked around wildly. She was in a dark stone room, surrounded by four men and one woman, but she couldn't sense their presence, either. They were dead, just like the man who had taken her.

  Panic overtook her and she scrambled backwards, trying to get away from them, crashing into something hard. Looking up, she gasped as she realized she had collided with the man's legs. Jerking forward in horror, he laughed down at her, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips.

  There was a scraping sound as a heavy wooden door opened opposite and a woman walked into the room, closing it behind her with a dull thud that echoed off the walls. Looking around for the first time, she realized that the stone room wasn't just any room. The earth was all around her, she could feel it through the walls. The room was a dungeon.

  The woman paused just inside the doorway for a moment, a look of triumph plastered on her face. She was tall and slim, fiery auburn hair that fell in waves over her shoulders and her heart beat in her chest. Aeriaya regarded her warily as she walked forward and surveyed her terrified form on the ground with hazel eyes. This woman was very much alive and very much a witch. This was all so very wrong. She must be one of the Five. And if that was true, then she had betrayed them all. Just by looking at her, she could tell the witch had created the dead creatures that stood around her. The power she had been granted had been corrupted.

  "Well done, Regulus," the woman caressed the man's face with a delicate hand. The man who had taken her from the forest. "Very well done."

  "Who are you?" Her musical voice sounded misplaced in their dark surrounds. "What do you want?"

  "Oh, forgive me," she exclaimed. "Let me introduce you to my family. Regulus you have already met on such intimate terms. This is my lovely daughter, Octavia. And my sons, Marcus, Titus, Caius and Arturius. And I, I am Katrin."

  She knew that name. She was one of the Five.

  "What have you done?" she whispered, still cowering on the floor.

  "They're dead," Katrin laughed. "They're vampires. The creatures of myth, brought alive by my will. Bound to the night, slaves to blood." She gestured to the six vampires, who began to move forward.

  One of the men grabbed her roughly around the waist and hauled her up, holding her lithe form in place. One by one, the vampires came forward and dragged her head to the side and sunk their fangs into the soft skin of her neck, consuming her blood. At first she tried to fight, but each burning tear into her jugular made her limbs heavier.

  Why were they doing this to her? She'd never done anything to hurt anyone. Was she to die?

  Once they had all drank, she was let go, the cell door slammed closed and locked. Alone in the darkness, she sunk to the floor and sobbed, her tears dripping into the hard dirt floor.

  Aeriaya didn't know how long she was in the cell before someone came. Darkness and fear were her only companions until she heard footsteps approaching. Scrambling back as far as she could, she curled herself into a ball and waited to see what would happen next. Her neck stung from the wound they had inflicted, dried blood stuck to her pale skin and stained her dress.

  As the door scraped open, she held her hand over her eyes at the sudden light that filled the cell. One of the vampires was standing just inside, holding a flaming torch, which he put into the holder on the wall.

  Curling herself up tighter as he approached, she watched him with frightened eyes. There would be no choice for her in what happened next. Her power was gone. Whatever Katrin had done she had given the means to the man, Regulus, to take it away. She was completely
at their mercy.

  The vampire crouched down, gazing at her almost sadly. She knew he was one of the people who called themselves Romans, he had that look about him. Broad shoulders, dark curly hair that had been cropped close to the scalp, deep set brown eyes. A long scar that began above his right eye and ended below his cheekbone had marred his face. White and puckered, ugly.

  "Are you ill?" His rough voice was a surprise, just as much as his concern was. When she didn't answer he said, "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

  "But you did," she whispered, tears spilling down her face.

  "I'm sorry," he frowned. "But you must understand. I cannot go against the others so openly."

  She was confused. Was he really sorry? Would he try and help her? She had to escape this place. Her family had to be warned about the witch and what she had created. She had not been granted this gift to use it in such a way.

  "I cannot be here," she said.

  The vampire frowned and looked at his hands. Reaching out towards her, he went to grasp her hand that was clutched around her knees, but she jerked back, afraid of his touch.

  "What is your name?" he asked, letting his had fall away. She didn't answer, staring at him with unearthly blue eyes. He looked at her a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Finally he said, "I am Arturius. I must go before I am missed, but I will return."

  Standing, he regarded her once more before turning and leaving, the door closing and the heavy bolt driving home with a thud. He left the torch behind, the smoke spiraling upwards towards a grate in the ceiling high above. One small kindness, so she didn't have to endure the darkness.

  Arturius came to see her many times over the coming weeks. He brought food with him, having stolen it from the kitchens right under the noses of the servants. He would never eat anything, content to watch her state her hunger. In all that time, she heard nothing of the outside world. Nothing of her family or why she had been taken. She was at the mercy of the witch and her Roman vampires. They came to visit her as well, but it was only to take more of her blood. For what reason, she did not know.

  The young Roman, Arturius, told her much about his life before he came to Briton. He told her stories about his family back in Rome, how he became a soldier in the Legion and how he had come to be here, on the other side of the ocean. The ocean, he said, was beautiful as it was deadly. Blue, sparkling water as far as the eye could see, it's surface choppy with waves, the bow of their great ship dipping in and out as they travelled, giant ocean fish racing them, leaping from the water.

  He was a commander, he said, before he met Katrin. He told men what to do, he was a fearsome leader, respected and admired. He'd fought many battles defending Rome, the realm of goodness and light. Learning and science. The day that Katrin had made them into vampires was the day he realized that the world he knew was a lie. There were no gods. No god would do this to him, he said. Not even the all the gods in the underworld.

  And Aeriaya felt sorry for him. Katrin had betrayed them, too, had she not? She had coerced them into servitude, linking them to her through what Arturius called magic. All of them had come willingly, but had been tricked into their own prison. Their free will had been taken. If Katrin willed it, they had to see it through.

  "That," he said, "is why I cannot free you. I want to, so badly. But I cannot." He sat beside her, his back resting against the wall, his arm touching hers. Taking her delicate hand in his, he ran a thumb across her knuckles.

  "I would do anything for you," he whispered, letting his lips brush against her cheek.

  She shivered and looked away, suddenly shy where previously she had become so comfortable with him. Arturius had shared so much of himself with her and she had told him nothing, yet he still gave.

  He traced a finger along her jaw, turning her face back towards him. His brown eyes searched hers for a moment, before he leant forward, pressing his lips against hers. She drew a sharp breath as he pulled her close, a strong hand caressing her waist. Taking the opportunity, Arturius slid his tongue into her mouth. It was a sensation she'd never felt before and she wanted more. She felt herself kissing him back, sliding her tongue against his, feeling him.

  Finally, he pulled away, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She jerked back slightly as his lips brushed her torn skin, but he didn't bite down as she thought he might. Instead, he let out a contented sigh. "She wants to know the secret to your power," he murmured in her ear, kissing the corner of her jaw. "The power of your kind."

  No, she could never tell him any of her family’s secrets. It didn't work that way, she couldn't tell. Something horrible would happen, something that she didn't understand, but something horrible nonetheless.

  "All you need to do is tell Katrin what she wants to know, then you can go home," Arturius sat on the dirt floor and pulled her into his chest, stroking her silver hair. "I will take you myself so that you are safe."

  She sobbed into his shirt, shaking her head. Why couldn't they understand? She couldn't. Even if she wanted to, even if it meant her own life.

  "Please," he pleaded. "They couldn't learn anything from your blood."

  She was confused. Her blood? What did that have to do with anything? The Romans were just tormenting her, drinking her blood to sate themselves. Driving her to give up what she could not.

  "Your blood gives us dreams," Arturius whispered, as he measured her expression. "They thought to learn what they wanted that way. They hoped... That way, you wouldn't have a choice."

  When she didn't speak, he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "I can't stop her," he pleaded. "She offered your release to your family in exchange for the same information, but they denied her."

  Her family had betrayed her? Her parents were strong, they could tell Katrin what she wanted to know. Why hadn't they come to free her, despite the witches offer? There were too few of them left to leave her to die. Why hadn't they sent someone to rescue her?

  "Please, you must, or I don't know what she'll do to you." He grasped her hands in his almost desperately. "Please, my love."

  She stiffened in his grasp. Love? What did she know of love?

  "I cannot," she whispered, finally. "Even if I wanted to betray them, I couldn't. It's impossible."

  "What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

  "I am bound. I cannot," she stated.

  Arturius frowned, trying to mask the anger that had begun to creep into his features. If they couldn't get the information they needed from her, then what was her fate? Death? She began to panic, her heart thudding in her chest. Arturius could hear it beating wildly and reached out, seemingly intent on calming her.

  "Come, my love," he beckoned. Falling against him she gasped as he forced his wrist to her mouth. She gagged at the coppery taste of his blood, but there was so much of it she was forced to swallow several times.

  "There, there," he crooned, stroking her silver hair with his other hand. "This will only hurt a moment, my love."

  Her eyes widened with panic as he took her head in his large paw-like hands, blood dripping from her chin. Suddenly, he twisted and the last sound she heard was the snap as he broke her neck.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Zac's eyes snapped open, despite how groggy he felt. He had been dreaming, which didn't feel right. His nights had been blank since day one. He was a vampire and vampires didn't dream. He tried to remain focused, trying to recall the woman's face. The one whose neck had been broken just as he woke. But it slipped away into darkness.

  "Zac," came a familiar voice.

  Turning his head, he found himself in his own bed, the sun shining outside. Sam sat in a chair beside him, leaning forward, a concerned look on his tired face. Sam, his little brother, just as undead as he was, always there to patch him up.

  "Sam," he groaned, trying to sit up. "What..."

  Sam's hand held him down, stopping him from moving anymore. "Easy brother. You've been out for two days."

  Zac frowned, trying to remember what ha
d happened. They had been in the forest, guarding the clearing while Gabby and Aya fought Katrin. Then he was on the ground, dying. This time, he'd had a choice whether he would drink the blood that would save his life. And he chose her.

  "Where's Aya?" he croaked, trying to sit up again.

  Sam's expression was pained. Frowning, he said, "There's no easy way to tell you this, brother."

  He began to panic, "What do you mean? Where is she? Is she alright?"

  "Zac, she's gone."

  "Gone where? She left?"

  "No, Zac. She's dead."

  The little color that had returned to his face drained as his heart clenched in his chest. No. It couldn't be true. Aya couldn't die. She was the strongest vampire he had ever known. She was over two thousand years old, could walk into anyone's home without being invited and sunlight didn't bother her in the slightest. Death seemed beyond her.

  Sam reached out and lay his hand on his arm. Zac knew his brother better than himself and the look on his face said it all. He was telling the truth. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

  "While she was weakened from giving you her blood," Sam had preempted his question. "She had to let her guard down. It took too much from her, I think. After everything that happened with Gabby, healing you. It was the moment of weakness that he was waiting for."

  "Who? What?" His head was still foggy as he tried to grasp the enormity of what Sam was telling him.

  "A vampire named Arturius," he scowled at the memory. "He tore her heart from her chest. He was her maker, Zac. Another founding vampire."

  Zac covered his face with his hands to stifle a sob. He ached all over as he dragged in breath after breath to calm himself. His heart was broken, he was broken. He saw her face as she had hovered over him in the clearing, her tears dripping on his cheek as he died. She had said she loved him and he realized he hadn't said it back. He loved her so much and he would never be able to tell her. In that moment, the grief of that realization made him want to die. But above all else, he wanted this Arturius dead.