Succession of Witches (The Familiar Series)

by Karen Mead

  Khalil, an ashen tone to his dark complexion, averted his eyes as Sam picked up Miri’s head and cradled it in his arms, bloodying his coat. For someone who talked about all the slasher films he had watched, Khalil didn’t seem to have much tolerance for actual violence.

  Kneeling at the body’s side, Sam placed the head back on the vampire girl’s savagely severed neck. To his immense relief, her face was expressionless, almost calm.

  “Miriam Buckley,” he began, putting his hand on her mutilated flesh where her neck had been severed. “You still owe me 1,824 days of service under our contract. Rise so you can fulfill it.”

  For a few seconds, nothing happened, and Sam felt downright foolish as well as sad. However, once he took his hand away, ribbons of flesh and tendon began to move with otherworldly speed as the vampire’s neck began to literally knit itself back together. After barely a minute had passed, Miri made choking sounds and struggled to move, supporting herself by pulling on Sam’s arms.

  “Sam! Sam they took her, I’m so sorry! I couldn’t, I couldn’t…” she stopped and coughed, blood and darker things spilling out of her mouth.

  “Shhh,” said Sam, “I know Miri, I know. Just be quiet and put yourself back together, okay?” he said quietly, finding it strange how much he seemed to care for this strange creature he’d only known for a short time.

  “Good,” said the teacher quietly. “I was hoping it would work. You can call me John, by the way. John Golding, Cassie’s English teacher.”

  Sam glared up at John, about to tell him to drop the friendly act, when he saw Miri’s lips moving toward him. Quickly, he slapped a hand over the pulse in his neck and shifted out of her reach. “No, sweetheart. Not from me.” The girl made a mewling sound, like a hurt kitten.

  “She got her head cut off trying to protect Cassie, and you’re not going to let her drink?” said Khalil, still looking pale. He sounded almost offended on the vampire’s behalf.

  “It’s not that. She needs human blood. And I think I know where to get some,” he said, looking to John once again.

  For the first time, the teacher looked seriously worried. “I can’t—I would, but I can’t. I was fed on just last night, I can’t give blood again so soon.”

  “Ooooooh,” Miri murmured. “Please, I’m so thirsty. My throat hurts.” Her vocal cords sounded like they were full of sand and gravel; it almost hurt just to listen to her.

  Sam appraised the teacher. He was a good-looking man, with an olive complexion, light hazel eyes and an impressive mane of golden brown hair. He was tall too, taller than Sam—just the type of particularly masculine-looking male a teenaged girl would develop a crush on instantly. He could just imagine Cassie looking up at him from her desk, drinking in his smiles and compliments during class with flushed cheeks, and suddenly he wanted his little vampire to drain every drop of blood from the teacher’s body.

  “Please, think about this,” said John, taking a step back. “She’s hurt, she may lose control, and if I die you’ll never find Cassie.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Khalil, stepping forward.

  “Are you sure?” said Sam, removing his gaze from teacher. “I thought you hated vampires.”

  Khalil shrugged, kneeling down next to the pair. “Maybe, but she fought for Cassie. Least I can do.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Assistant Manager sir,” said Miri, extending her small, but pointy fangs. “If I could just have a drink now, yes sir? Thank you sir,” she muttered, seemingly delirious with pain.

  At Sam’s direction, Khalil exposed his wrist from under his coat and sweatshirt and held it over Miri’s mouth. For a second she didn’t move, then she pulled his arm toward her mouth with a speed that made Khalil gasp and began to drink. Khalil bit his lip, trying not to cry out as she made greedy, sucking sounds. After a few moments, Sam pulled the other man’s wrist out of her grip, and realized there had been little need to worry about her bloodlust; she made a disappointed moan, but made no attempt to fight.

  “Feel better?” Sam asked.

  “Starting too,” she said, beginning to sound lucid again. Then she giggled. “You taste yummy, Mr. Assistant Manager. You’re like one of those fancy French cheeses.”

  “Er…thanks?” said Khalil, cradling his bleeding wrist as he rose to his feet.

  “Don’t feed on him anymore today,” said Sam, trusting she would obey. He stood, picking up the vampire in his arms; she seemed to weigh nothing. “And now for you,” he said, looking at John as he pulled Miri close. She nestled against his chest with no shame, like a little girl. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, protectively.

  “Who are you, really?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  When Cassie became aware of herself again, she was surrounded by trees. A forest of coniferous trees, covered in snow. In addition to the calls of some hardy winter birds, she thought she could hear the sound of the ocean nearby.

  There was snow on the ground too; she started out standing on the surface, but as soon as she moved, she sank knee deep into the snow, soaking her pant leg. Of all the days not to wear her knee-high boots.

  Standing next to her, the Knight looked confused. As her plated metal boots sank into the snow, she looked from side to side frantically, like she didn’t know what was happening, her ponytail snapping back and forth almost comically. Eventually, she gave a graceful kind of shrug and turned away, orienting herself.

  “Where are we?” Cassie snapped, hugging herself for warmth. “Where did you bring me?”

  Ignoring the question, the Knight cocked her head in a direction and began to walk, more gracefully than should be possible in deep snow, which came up even higher on her than it did on Cassie. Cassie gave a moment’s thought to running in the other direction, then shook her head and scrambled after the Knight; if she didn’t get to shelter soon, she would freeze to death.

  After a few moments, it became clear they were walking up a hill. The surrounding trees made it hard to see, but Cassie could tell the incline was increasing the farther they went. Trying not to think of the cold, she focused on the Knight’s swinging ponytail a few steps ahead, which somehow, even beneath the shadowy canopy, seemed to glow faintly with golden light. Its perfection, however, was marred by a dark stain towards the bottom.

  A bolt of horror shot through Cassie as she suddenly remembered what had happened right before the Knight had spirited her away. Oh my God, Miri! She thought. She died protecting me. I called her an undead skank—that was the last thing I ever said to her.

  She struggled to hold back tears; they would just freeze to her cheeks.

  After a period of time Cassie couldn’t judge, they reached the top of the hill, where there was a clearing. Despite herself, Cassie stared; it was picture-postcard beautiful.

  A large house, all dark wood and flawless white stones, sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. Behind the homestead, a seemingly endless forest of snow-covered trees was visible. To her left, there was the sea far below, a shocking blue-green color under the battleship grey sky. The smell of wood, pine needles and salty sea brine mixed together into a cleansing, invigorating aura that seemed to penetrate the very pores of her skin.

  The Knight began walking toward the house and Cassie followed, shivering and thinking furiously. She could be in the Northwest, or she could be across the Atlantic in Scandinavia somewhere. Russia also wasn’t out of the question. She began hoping that she was at least still in the continental United States: if she’d been kidnapped onto another continent, that suggested a huge amount of planning, since it would mean defying the Western Court.

  Actually, considering the fact that she was court-ordered to stay with Sam, whoever had kidnapped her was crossing the court at this point—unless, of course, the court was in on it. She decided to stop torturing herself with speculation until she had more information and just try to stay on her toes…her sopping wet toes. She was glad when they reached the house—she was starting to lose sensation in her feet
.

  The Knight reached for an old fashioned brass knocker on the large oak door and pounded three times. Cassie heard muffled voices coming from inside the house, and then a thin man opened the door. Superficially, he reminded her of Serenus—around the same age with the same dapper dressing style, the elder gentleman about town. However, while Serenus usually had a playful look on his face, this man had bloodshot, yellow-tinged eyes and a sour expression. He turned to address someone behind him.

  “They’re finally here. They must have materialized at the bottom of the hill and had to walk the rest of the way.”

  “For what those transportation amulets cost, they should have materialized in my bedroom, giftwrapped,” Cassie heard another man say with a theatrical cadence. “Let them in already.”

  Poor Man’s Serenus (as Cassie had already started thinking of him) moved aside to let the Knight and Cassie through. The house wasn’t quite as beautiful inside as it was from afar, but it was still impressive; the front room was decorated in greens and grays with nautical accent pieces, and plenty of antique, sumptuous furniture. The centerpiece of the room was a large gray plush couch across from an absolutely huge marble fireplace, where a roaring fire warmed the room nicely. Just looking at the fire made Cassie’s fingers and toes begin to defrost.

  A man was sitting in front of the fireplace, his back to Cassie. After she had stamped her feet on the rug in the entryway to clear off the snow and ice, he stood up and turned toward her, hands resting at his sides. There was something practiced about the whole gesture, as though he’d rehearsed it several times.

  “Welcome, Cassie. I suppose you never expected to see me again,” he said smugly.

  Cassie took in the sight of him. She supposed he was handsome, in an everyday sort of way—regular exposure to men like Sam, John Golding and Nathaniel Lewis had made her change her threshold of attractiveness. He had thick, tousled dark brown hair, a thin-to-average frame and large brown eyes that made him look younger than he probably was, and was fashionably dressed in gray slacks and a blue dress shirt. There seemed to be something strangely, almost painfully earnest about him, which was a weird vibe to get from someone who had just kidnapped you.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  The man looked crestfallen for a fraction of a second, but covered it well. “Last fall, at court. We were introduced.”

  “Oh—if you say so,” she said, shrugging. Something was a little off about this situation. There was a clink as the Knight came to stand next to her, crossing her arms as well. Cassie wondered if the creature was mirroring her on purpose.

  The man licked his lips. “You mean to tell me you don’t remember me? Or is this some kind of mind game?”

  Cassie shrugged again. “Honestly, I’m not trying to be rude, I really don’t remember.”

  Poor Man’s Serenus came up next to the other man, his hands clasped behind his back like a butler. “She’s probably telling the truth, Ben. She must have met dozens of people that night.”

  Ben, if that was indeed his name, still looked unsatisfied. “Well, I suppose. Anyway, where are my manners? Come—sit in front of the fire and warm up. We have a lot to talk about,” he said, gesturing to an overstuffed chair across from the couch.

  Seeing no reason to continue standing in the entryway feeling cold, Cassie made a beeline for the comfortable-looking chair. The heat from the fire felt heavenly. She heard quiet metallic sounds as the Knight followed, but did not sit, coming to stand in between Ben’s couch and Cassie’s chair. Poor Man’s Serenus also remained standing in his butler’s pose.

  Ben sat and looked at her as she nestled into the chair, taking her shoes off and pulling her legs into her body for warmth. “Making yourself at home. I like that,” he said with a smile.

  “For now. You do know what happened to the last demon who kidnapped me, right?” snapped Cassie, brushing more snow off of her vest. She should probably be cautious and choose her words more carefully, but something about Ben made it tempting to be frank.

  “Yes, I know all about how Cordley was dumb enough to leave you unbound, and with an item of your master’s clothing, allowing you to summon him,” he said. “But I doubt you can summon him now, and even if you could—well, let’s just say I took the proper precautions,” he said. He gave a sidelong glance at the Knight and smiled.

  Cassie swallowed. “Who is she, anyway? Can she talk?”

  “You’re asking the wrong question,” said Ben. “It’s not who she is, it’s what she is. And what she can do.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Maasiiis!” he yelled, thrusting his arm out in the Knight’s direction.

  Cassie felt like she had been punched in the stomach. That had been a powerful curse—she had been close enough to the receiving end of one to know what it felt like. It hadn’t been directed at her, but at the Knight, who didn’t react in the slightest. The strange figure just continued standing in the middle of the carpet, arms crossed in front of her breastplate.

  Ben seemed winded from the curse for a moment, but laughed after a he got his breath back. “You see? A killing curse, and she felt nothing. That armor, which I made, renders her completely immune to magic.” He grinned at Cassie, beaming with pride. “If your master were to walk in the door right now, all his curses would be useless, and she would cut off his head before he could scream.”

  “That’s not possible,” said Cassie, eyes wide. “How could anything be immune to magic. That just…that doesn’t make any sense.” But no sooner had she said it than she remembered her protection amulet— it had triggered when John had touched her, but not when the Knight had. She had no other explanation for that.

  “See, that’s what Arrigio and the rest of those fossils with no imagination at court kept saying, but they were wrong. I’ve completed it, and now? They could send an army of demons after me, and they would be helpless,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. He leaned back into the couch, luxuriating in his victory. “The court has no hold over me now; my word is law.”

  As freaked out as she was about the Knight (for, as much as she didn’t want to believe it, it seemed like what he was saying about her magical immunity was true), Cassie was momentarily distracted by the realization of just what had been bothering her about Ben. He was just so…affected.

  Sam was reluctant to take on the role of a demon, but when he did, there was no doubt. Whether he was addressing the members of the Western Court, or holding a meeting of his entourage on the floor of the coffee shop after hours from a cheap plastic chair, there was no questioning his authority. He was what he was by virtue of birth, and it was an immutable fact, something he couldn’t escape from— and he had certainly tried. Other demons, like Donatello Arrigio, were similarly intimidating in their own way. Even Serenus radiated a quiet, composed kind of power.

  Ben appeared to be playacting at being a powerful demon, and it didn’t quite work. Power wasn’t the issue; she was pretty sure that killing curse he had directed at the Knight was a strong one. He just seemed to lack confidence in who and what he was, and he was overcompensating with grand gestures.

  Cassie cleared her throat. “Listen, Ben—”

  He cut her off. “You do not call me that. I am Bennet Marcus, son of Belial, and you will show me the proper respect,” he said, his words crisp and cold. Again, there was something missing; she knew she was supposed to feel like she was put in her place, but it just wasn’t happening.

  “Fine, what do you want me to call you?”

  There was a pause. “Master,” he said. He seemed to be fighting to control his expression.

  “You aren’t my master,” said Cassie quickly. As far as she knew, no matter what wizardry he’d managed to pull off with a set of medieval armor, he couldn’t break her bond with Sam—only a more powerful demon could do that, and no way was this guy more powerful than Sam. She realized she was clutching her silver locket and quickly dropped it back into her vest.

  I also ha
ve the secret bond with Sammael, the Lord of Hell, she thought. I wonder what Mr.-I’m-So-Powerful here would think of them apples?

  “That’s true, I can’t make you my familiar. At least, not yet.”

  Cassie threw up her arms. “Then what good am I to you? Why even bother kidnapping me?”

  “So glad you asked,” he said, standing up and pacing. “First, there’s the fact that everyone else wants you, but they can’t have you. A proper punishment for treating me the way they did,” he said. He threw out a hand and was suddenly holding a full wineglass which, if she was honest, impressed Cassie more than the killing curse had; she was pretty sure Sam couldn’t conjure his own drinks.

  “Second,” he said, running his finger along the edge of the crystal. “Once you’re pregnant with my child, it’s not going to matter too much whose familiar you are,” he said, grinning madly.

  Despite his lack of experience, his over-the-top acting, and that nebulous feeling that there was something a little sad and desperate about him, Bennet Marcus managed something few demons had; he made Cassie’s jaw drop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Serenus didn’t return any of the voicemails Sam had left for him until almost 8 hours after Cassie was kidnapped, which was infuriating: for his entire life, he had been unable to get rid of the guy, except for the one time he really, really needed him. To his further irritation, Serenus refused to answer most of his questions over the phone, saying that they needed to hold “a full meeting of the entourage” before he would discuss their next course of action.

  That’s why the back room of the Daily Grind was filled with Dwight, Khalil, John (not part of the entourage, but Sam wasn’t letting him go anywhere) Ethan (falling asleep on the couch), Jay (mother hypnotized by Eugene into no longer caring), Mike (parents in Monte Carlo and apparently apathetic), Miriam (still recovering), Eugene Buckley, Liam, Dmitri, and Billingsly. Only Nyesha was missing, still refusing to leave the clan’s rented townhouse unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. It was rather crowded.