Death's Primordial Kiss (The Silvered Moon Diaries Book 1)

by Romarin Demetri

  I’d been to the apparel shop to browse ceremonial garments before, but I didn’t know how traditional I’d end up being about my ritual wear. Some witches wore pins or accessories, and I figured I’d be one of those witches who had a modern spin on dressing. Rose, on the other hand, had to be pissed at Stan right about now. I knew she’d love nothing more than a dress with gigantic, flowy sleeves, and might even opt for a corset to really torture herself.

  “Thank you for being so kind about our cloaks, Maddi,” Rose said.

  “At least now you have time to find something that really speaks to you, yeah?”

  Rose seemed pleased by that statement, and I knew that Maddi could see the good in any situation.

  Gregory arrived in the kitchen, dressed in his green robe with gold trim. It accented the lighter strands in his dreads and the amber colors of his irises. I’d be damned if Maddi hadn’t helped him pick it out.

  We decided to do the ritual to start the day off, before breakfast but after a cup of tea or coffee.

  When we were all in place and dressed in our ritual garments, Maddi asked if everyone was ready. We nodded.

  She walked to the armoire and opened one of the frosted cabinets, moving the dark blue globe to the left. My brief fixation on the globe a few weeks ago wasn’t without reason. The house was trying to tell me something, and it clearly knew about my investigative ears. The cabinet soundlessly shifted to the side, and behind it was an opening small enough for one person to walk through at a time.

  “What is that?” I gasped.

  “It’s a spell room hidden by a spell cabinet,” Maddi said with a wink. “Come on in.”

  I glanced at Rose, in agreement that this was our candy store, and quite possibly better than the weapons racks at the dojo.

  Amazement gripped me tightly by the shoulders and splayed across my face as I stepped through the opening in the wall. Anything we needed was in this room, and I doubted very few people knew about it. It was our very own spell doomsday bunker and having not fucked anything up too badly in my first five weeks, it was mine for the taking.

  The walls were flanked with bookshelves that contained texts as well as ritual objects. A wooden plank table in the middle of the room was so saturated with candles, jars, and books that I could barely make out the surface of it. A hint of finely crushed herbs gathered in the air, making the room smell like an Italian restaurant. Basil and oregano oils and herbs were often used in spell casting.

  Before I knew what I was doing I had walked to the wall, and my hand was instinctively skimming the spine of a pale pink book, the only one of its kind among the other warm, golden books on the shelves. The blank spine meant that I couldn’t read it yet, but something magnetic had drawn me in.

  “What’s this book?” I asked the others.

  “Okay, Laurence,” Gregory stated. “We’re aware that you know some higher level books are hidden from you, and that’s one of them. One thing at a time.”

  I was quiet at once. He had told me to step off of it, even if he did so kindly. I knew not to argue with Gregory or Maddi. In premeditation, the idea of arguing with Stan didn’t vex me one bit.

  “We need a cauldron for the spell, so if you don’t mind, Laurence, grab that small copper one, please.”

  “Will do, Maddi.” I smiled and reached for the beveled copper cauldron.

  “Now that you know this room is here, you can use it anytime,” Maddi explained. “You’ll need it if you use one of the ready-made spells in the hutch. Always replace what you use. It’s common courtesy, but we also think that karma might be extra touchy about missing elixirs.”

  “We usually do a spell straight out of the book for the first ritual. Grab the corresponding object to your element.”

  I grabbed a silver chalice that was on the table and followed Maddi and Gregory into the living room with the cauldron and chalice. I glanced over my shoulder towards Stan.

  “Fire’s object is the athame,” he instructed Rose. “It’s a phallic symbol. That—”

  “I know what that means,” she shot back, snatching a random ceremonial knife from the shelf.

  “Rose is great at using athames,” I blurted out before I could stop. Stan’s expression didn’t change, but Rose’s had, and I felt a push from her embarrassment that left me unbalanced. I stopped my laugh in my throat, turning it into a quick cough, thinking that this time she might stab me with the athame and not her powers.

  We pushed the couches against the walls and created a large altar in the living room. Gregory spread a tapestry embossed with the lotus pentacle over the floor, and I set the cauldron in the middle per his instruction, before walking my chalice west, in the direction of the water element. The book containing the spell was left open with a red ribbon marking its spot.

  “We will begin by calling our elements. I summon earth to the north of the circle,” Gregory said, holding up a pentacle constructed of dried branches. He wouldn’t set it down until we called all of our objects. “May earth protect our circle, hearth, and home.”

  “I call upon air to join us in our circle,” Maddi said, holding up a short, blunt wand, made of pallid ivory. “May the eastern winds protect our circle as the veil of Samhain thins the portal between worlds.”

  Rose held her athame like a torch and spoke next.

  “I invite fire to protect our circle as Autumn begins to turn to winter. May the powers of the south illuminate our existing knowledge in order to open our minds.”

  “The energy of the west calls upon water to join our circle. It is the season of water, and we recognize its gentle and forceful nature.” I held my silver chalice at stomach level.

  “Spirit is around us,” Stan said from my left, void of holding an object. “May the element protect our home from the spirits who wish to do us harm, and may we remember those who have passed on this day of Samhain.”

  “This is the season of water,” Gregory said to me, as everyone placed their objects down at their feet. Rose’s athame was set down between the two southern lotus points, and Stan did not place an object. “The circle is cast in our home. We shall bring in our plants and light the ceremonial fire, welcoming our new initiates.”

  At Gregory’s instruction (which would have been mine had I been fully initiated as water) we all took part in bringing our plants inside from the courtyard, making room for the harvest under the heat lamps of the conservatory. Solar panels supplied energy to the pink lights, and we flipped the lights on, making the glass room buzz with soft electricity.

  Rose and I followed the others back to our altar. Gregory handed Rose a long lighter, and she read from the book set on the coffee table. He spoke again as she lit the candle.

  “It is the season of the crone.”

  We gathered around the cauldron and Rose lit the fire. She peeked back to the book as she carried the fire to the hearth, setting the copper cauldron in the open fireplace. It would remain lit for three days.

  “As we close our circle on this day of All Hollows Eve, we are grateful for a successful harvest and the bounty the Earth has supplied us this year and all years,” Gregory said. “Blessed be.”

  “Blessed be,” we all repeated, picking our objects up from the ground as we called them back.

  I expected shimmering lights, loud noises, ethereal specters, and disembodied voices, or maybe a combination from all of the above, but our Wiccan ritual wasn’t a show. I did feel a peaceful energy about the room, and a sudden warmth that was even and fulfilling.

  We went to return our objects to the spell room when Stan spoke to Rose.

  “Don’t put away your athame so fast.”

  “Why not?”

  “Pumpkins,” he said, breaking into a smile. “Our tradition is that fire always slices the tops from our pumpkins.”

  “Pumpkin carving? I thought only children did that,” Rose stated.

  “It’s an ancient pagan ritual, actually,” Stan said. “Have a little fun.”

  Ma
ddi waved her hand and pumpkins appeared on the dining table.

  “How did you do that?” I asked her.

  “I’ve been saving them on another plane all morning,” she explained. “Air is one tricky element, and I wanted to surprise you with something fun since you’ll still be stuck in this house for a few more weeks. We are also staying in tonight to honor you.”

  “I love pumpkins,” Rose said before thanking Maddi. “I thought you were joking, Stan.”

  “Do I ever?” he asked back.

  Samhain was the most laid back day we had since moving in. There were no lessons on the holidays. We carved our pumpkins that night but didn’t participate in opening our door to trick-or-treaters. I hung out with Rose most of the day, but even Gregory was around more than usual, and he brought his projector down from the attic so we could watch Halloween movies. Tomas stopped by for one of Maddi’s only days off the job, and as the tradition went, everyone stayed in to honor us as new initiates.

  I stayed up until Rose mumbled a goodnight, Stan disappeared, and Maddi and Tomas went to sleep. When it was lights out for Gregory, I figured I should retire and shut off the kitchen light, following his lead.

  “I knew I couldn’t say anything, but that bit about the athame when we were setting up was bloody hilarious,” Gregory told me, walking into the living room.

  “She’ll kill me if she knows you overheard. Do not mention it to her, whatever you do. I am the only one allowed to speak to her that way.”

  “I won’t bring it up. It’s a lot, being in the Coven so young and trying to figure out who you are. She’ll get the hang of it. The more comfortable she gets with her element, the better, and your push was a good thing.”

  “Oh really? ‘Cos I was just trying to make her uncomfortable,” I said truthfully.

  “Being uncomfortable means we’re willing to accept change and grow. It’s not a bad place to be.”

  “Thanks, Gregory. Goodnight. Happy Samhain.”

  “Goodnight,” he said.

  I wanted to grow my elemental magic, badly, and couldn’t wait until the day that was possible. For now, I was going to have to find different ways to get in trouble—and I was already working on roping Rose into the mischief with me. She’d never say no.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Dia de Los Muertos

  Rose

  Gregory, Maddi, and Stan had been allowed to go to a death scene and a funeral without Helaine and me, and now, they were going to a party that was bigger than our auditions. We were scathingly jealous and had a month left to mull it over from inside the house, having forgotten that only yesterday, the Coven stayed in on Halloween to honor the traditions of us initiates.

  The Vampires essentially took Dia de Los Muertos as their own holiday, but they were polite enough to invite all of the subcultures to a grand ball that was held in a different, top-secret location every year. Of course, our parents never let us go to it before, and the first chance we got now that we were out of the house and legal drinking age, we were barred from it. It was a masquerade too, and we were eighteen-year-old girls who would have given anything to immerse ourselves in the romanticism of the event.

  I sat on my bed in my too-white room, reading over yet another textbook Stan was forcing me to review. Things were better, more amiable between the two of us when he wasn’t spouting off this or that about my element to make me uncomfortable. I would have given anything to undertake elemental training instead of reading, and it was surely an itch made worse by Helaine’s complaining.

  I had set up photos of my ancestors on my altar, honoring both the thinning veil of Samhain and the traditions of Dia de Los Muertos. The Weltier witches who had devoted their lives to the Coven were immortalized in black and white photos and had been sent to me from Grandpa Dave. I also had a color photo of my grandma, Gizella, who had been killed at seventeen, and a drawing of my grandma, Lorena, whom I wasn’t supposed to know about. I researched Lorena at the age of twelve, trying to figure out more about my ancestry, and sketched her at the library.

  Lorena was my dad’s biological mother, the ruler of a demolished kingdom. We were certain she was dead, so I put her on top of my altar. Lorena had snow white hair, a slim nose, big nostrils, and her oval face looked a lot like mine. My mom had a feminine heart-shaped face, something that lent an ethereal quality to her beauty. I had been told I looked like my father for as long as I could remember. My departed grandmother wasn’t just a Changeling, not with her interest in blood sacrifice, so I dare not put an actual picture of her on the altar, in case her energy was trapped inside. My father never cared to say a word about her and they had only met once. As for his biological father, no one knew a thing about him. He was a traveler between worlds, and most likely not a Changeling. I knew I would never meet either of them.

  I also had my dad’s parents, the Avereis family, on my altar. They were in their late fifties in my picture. I wish I could have met them.

  Helaine stood in my doorway, and I looked up at her as she interrupted my thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  “Love your altar,” she approved. “That’s a brilliant sketch of the Big Bad Ice Queen.”

  “That’s not why you’re here,” I outed her. She walked into my bedroom with a mischievous smile stretching lazily across her face.

  “We should be out celebrating. We unlocked our first achievement within a month of being here and we deserve a drink.”

  “I’m going crazy in here too,” I said, nearly pleading.

  “We’re going to Dia de Los Muertos,” Helaine said, with lightning in her brown eyes. “Rose. Pumpkin time is four a.m. and the party ends at two. If we go for a few hours and we’re back by one, I know we’ll beat them back. We don’t have to worry about Maddi. She’ll be back here with Tomas without even thinking of checking on us. Stan’s not going to care what we do—well maybe what you do since you’re in his charge—so we just have to avoid alerting Gregory.”

  “They’ll recognize me,” I said. “My hair is blue.”

  “I’ve got a plan for that. I just wish I knew where the party was at.”

  “It’s at a nightclub this year,” I divulged at once. “I saw Stan’s invite on accident.”

  “Accidentally on purpose,” Helaine said. “Don’t worry. When I’m done with you, no one will recognize you, and I’m going to buy you that drink.”

  Helaine brought two of her dresses into my room before I could say another word.

  “We accessorize to disguise these dresses. I also packed two of Brittany’s wigs. We just have to paint our faces so no one notices us.”

  Helaine did a stellar job painting our faces, and I expected nothing less from the daughter of a tattoo artist. She claimed that she wasn’t artistic, and I think that it was just her choosing not to embrace that side because she didn’t enjoy it so much.

  In just twenty minutes I had ebony sugar skull paint surrounding my eyes like a mask and donned a blood red and obsidian dress. My hair was chocolate brown and straight. It reminded me of Moon Halloran’s... when she was alive. I knew Moon was on Helaine’s altar, but I wasn’t going to bring it up.

  I didn’t recognize Helaine with her blonde wig, and she was wearing an emerald green dress with a spider-web scarf tied around her waist. Her face paint extended onto her slim nose, and like me, she wore cherry lipstick.

  The fresh air of the night liberated any hesitation I carried out of the house with me. I took care of our invites by manipulating the interest of guard at the night club’s door. I hadn’t used my powers like this before, and tonight everything felt different than usual, but also much like a habit, something natural and innate.

  Inside, the party looked just like the illegally taken pictures of previous years suggested. It was a stellar vision of macabre perfection. Streamers of black and orange twisted from the ceiling, and all of the lights were purple, orange, or green. I delighted in their parody of our Yule Tree, and it’s spindly silhouette in the middle
of the room. It’s thin, twisty branches were naked apart from the pumpkins and sugar skulls hanging from it. Everyone was dressed to a dark and mysterious tee. Most women wore long dresses like us. We were flawlessly camouflaged, and few photographs would make it out of the club tonight. It would be as if we were never here. I recognized the musky scent of copal incense, used to communicate with the beyond, as it mixed with the stuffy chemicals used to make fog.

  Music thrummed from the forest-green ceiling overhead, shaking the floor and dulling our other senses. The irony amused me. When one was turned into a vampire, their senses dulled, but sometimes, one was heightened to perfection as an extra power beyond immortality. It was illegal to turn anyone against their will, and curiously enough, the vampire population had doubled in the last two decades. A species on the brink of extinction had made themselves relevant, and we wouldn’t have to intervene with them too much in the next few years.

  Two drinks later, Helaine and I were feeling buzzed, but were still able to keep our eyes on the clock and make sure that we were home before one. We tried to pick out anyone we knew, but even the neon lights were dim.

  “I want to dance,” Helaine yelled to me. “Don’t you?”

  “I haven’t danced before, really,” I admitted.

  “Time to get in touch with the passion music creates,” Helaine told me. “Your mentor would enjoy that.”

  “He’s so wrong about me,” I told her, not daring to think or say his name. He was here somewhere. “In reality, I could have any guy here. I just choose not to. I could pull passion from thin air.”

  “I dare you,” blonde-wigged Helaine said. “I dare you to go have a passionate moment with a stranger.”

  “How passionate?” I asked. “And how stir crazy are you?”

  “This is the perfect time to practice your element without regretting it,” Helaine pointed out. “We know that you don’t have much… experience to pull from and elemental training starts in about three weeks.”