by India Kells
She turned to see what had made the stranger turn deadly, when something smashed into her head, sending her into vulnerable oblivion.
CHAPTER THREE
Pain was the first thing coursing through her awakening body. The sensations were dizzying to the point of causing nausea, radiating from her skull to her shoulders, then back in a relentless rhythm. For a long moment, Valeria didn’t know if she was in a nightmare or simply coming back to the world of the living with less than enticing new perks.
Someone was holding her hand. She noticed it after a while, as it was the only sensation not causing her excruciating pain. The touch was light and soothing, allowing her to push back the throbbing and focus on her surroundings. It was the perfume of her mother that willed her to finally open her eyes.
“Mother?” Valeria may have voiced a question, but she knew without a doubt that her mother was beside her, her hand caressing hers. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, but there she was, her pixie brown hair and shining golden eyes, the mirror of her own, looking at her with an incredible smile of relief on her face.
“Valeria, my sweet one. I was so scared.” Her mother lifted her hand and kissed her palm before holding it against her cheek. “You’ll be alright now, I know you will.”
Valeria’s mind was fuzzy. She found it difficult to understand why her mother was crying and particularly why she was lying down in bed. Her body rebelled against her when she tried to sit.
“Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll help you.”
Her mother stood and lifted her arms before closing her eyes. She murmured words Valeria couldn’t understand, and the pain started to lessen a little, enough that she could take a deep breath and clear her head.
Her mother sat back and took her hand again.
“Mother, what happened? I don’t remember anything. That’s weird.”
Ann Lancaster nodded. “You had a bad blow to the head, and it may affect your memory for a while. Go easy on yourself. Do you remember the hunt your father organized? The gathering?”
Images of the clearing came flickering into her mind. “Yeah, some.”
“Well, we don’t know why, but your father said that you didn’t follow your team to the hunting site. When they noticed it, they came back as soon as possible and found you lying unconscious with werewolf blood on you.”
“What knocked me out?”
Ann shook her head. “We don’t know. We think it was the werewolf you were tracking. We hoped you would have answers.”
Valeria tried to sift through her memories. She remembered the werewolf, blonde with blue eyes, but not like James.
“James? Where is James?”
Her mother looked away. “I’m so sorry, my darling. When James’s team arrived at the hunting site, they were surrounded by werewolves. It was a difficult fight. He died, love.”
Valeria felt numb for a moment, until every part of her heart and soul were flooded by despair. “Dead? It’s impossible…”
She couldn’t cry yet; it was impossible to believe what her mother was saying.
The door opened, and her father walked in. He looked her up and down, assessing her condition and nodded. “Good to see you pulled through, Valeria.”
“Father.”
“Your mother has told you about what happened. I hope you understand the cost of your decisions. By not following your team, you left it vulnerable. What came over you?”
Valeria tried to search her memories again. “There was something in the woods, Father. I had to see it, to make sure it wasn’t a threat.”
Her father frowned. “Do you think I would leave the estate and your mother vulnerable, daughter? You had a part to play, you were part of a team, and you let them down. It cost a good man his life, and let dangerously infected creatures on the loose as we had to get back and save you. Meditate on that as you heal.”
Valeria watched him turn his back on her, unable to utter a word. Anger and pain prevented any response to explain her actions. But in the end, he was right. She had taken a decision that caused dire repercussions. James, her only love, her only safe harbor in a universe she despised, was now gone. Forever.
She didn’t see, hear or feel her mother beside her. She simply closed her eyes, shutting the whole world down and drowned in sorrows, the image of James smiling in her head.
CHAPTER FOUR
Days went by without Valeria truly realizing it. Events passed by, and it was as if she were a mere spectator, viewing them as through a movie screen. She had memories of herself hearing about James’s funeral, people coming and going, asking about her health, some others whispering about her sanity. At some point, her father closed off the estate to visitors, stranding the three as if on a deserted island.
The sun rose and set, again and again. Her body healed and her mind coped. Every night, she saw the face of James, pleading for her to come and save him. Every day, she tried to ignore the disappointed glances of her father. Her mother stayed close, taking care of her, soothing. Valeria couldn’t voice the turmoil inside her. Part of her knew she didn’t want to revert to her old self, her old life, and another mourned the life she could have had with James. Where did she stand now?
The more time passed, the more she doubted herself. Was it the solution? She didn’t know. Valeria was searching for a single glimpse of light, to help her find her way back. Or a new way, altogether.
One night, she went into the forest again. Alone. The moon was now only a sliver of light in the sky, but she knew her way. Her feet found the path between the trees, past the stone clearing.
The huge tree stood at the same place, immobile. Her instinct didn’t react; her fingers didn’t tingle as she let the memories flow again. The way the blonde werewolf had held her, how his face changed when he spotted a threat behind her. The fury on his face was a telltale sign that it was an enemy for him, and an ally for her. But who? Or what? The Lancasters had followers, friends. But most of them had been miles away, hunting. Who would have sneaked up on her in the woods without her noticing?
Taking a deep breath, Valeria kneeled by the tree and started weaving a memory spell. If she could examine her mind more, maybe she would see a detail that she had missed the first time. What intrigued her the most was the kiss. It wasn’t sexual, feeling more like a hidden spell. But she knew for a fact that werewolves or shapeshifters didn’t have this ability.
As the energy swirled around her, something felt wrong. It was as if she was losing control over the spell. Not once in her life, even in her apprenticeship, did she lose grip on her power. The world spun, and Valeria blacked out.
Or did she? Her cheek was resting against cool earth, the smell of leaves and moss filling her nose. She was lying on the ground, face down. A pounding headache increased when she pushed herself into a crouching position.
Valeria supposed she had faded away for a few minutes only, from the position of the moon in the sky at least. The forest was still silent, unmoving. When the pain in her head lessened, she stood up, noticing a burnt circle. About twenty feet across, the ground was scorched all around her, and she was obviously the source of the fire.
What the hell happened as she fell unconscious? From a very early age, magic had been a natural talent, a definite advantage of being born and raised by two very powerful sorcerers. Never in her entire life had she been overwhelmed by a spell, especially not one as simple as a memory spell.
Had she been indoors, she could have burned the house down. Valeria examined the ground, and couldn’t see any other explanation for the fire. She had to test this theory again. She walked a little further until she reached a place where rocks of several sizes lay. She kneeled before one and tried a simple incantation to move a smaller rock to the side. The spell started out smoothly until another headache exploded in her head, surprising her with its intensity. She battled to breathe through the pain and stay conscious. This time she succeeded, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself lying on the ground, surro
unded by splintered pieces of rocks. It was as if her powers had expanded and made everything within twenty feet explode.
Holy hell! Steady enough, Valeria stood up and returned home. But could she reveal what happened? Was this a simple after effect of her concussion?
After some reflection, she decided to keep this to herself. Well, for now anyway. She would test it in a week.
A week passed, then another. Valeria felt dread settle in the pit of her stomach at the idea that she could become powerless, that she couldn’t control the very part that had defined her for so many years.
She debated every second whether or not to reveal this terrifying possibility to her mother. Each time Valeria had an opportunity, she hesitated and stopped herself, a horrible feeling twisting her gut in denial.
Her mother stayed close, and her father seemed to look at her as if he knew something was wrong but kept silent. Only observing.
Valeria’s anguish spiked so often; she barely walked out the door. The outside was becoming the enemy, or more accurately, the victim. What if there was a way she could lose control, not even aware of what she could destroy, or perhaps kill? She couldn’t let herself loose. It’s all she could think about. Until the nightmare gripped both her nights and days.
At first, she didn’t know if she was seeing reality - she had been trained to distinguish premonitory dreams from simple random images produced by her tired brain. This one was different. It felt more real.
She was back in the clearing on that night. Valeria wasn’t alone but surrounded by four people. One was her father with his disapproving glare, and another was James, gaping at her with a plea. Another was a dark, faceless figure standing nearby, and, in front of her, the stranger. His expression was intense, as if he was trying to look into her soul. He didn’t move closer, but Valeria could feel the heat radiating from him. The faces blurred for an instant before the figures came closer, touching her, grabbing her. Even without seeing him, she felt her father tugging at her hair. James was plastered against her back, his arms around her waist, his mouth at her ear, asking her to come to him, over and over again. The blonde stranger was grabbing her neck, his hard body rubbing against her front, and the faceless figure was nearby, circling, a menace assessing the situation. The entangled bodies manhandled her with even more force, scratching, bruising, inflicting pain until she screamed. The scream changed as her voice morphed into that of her mother. Now, Ann Lancaster screamed in her head. A splintering sound, one Valeria would never forget. One that woke her up, in sheer panic.
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in her bed anymore. The carpet of the living room was soft against her skin. Dawn was barely piercing the night, a soft light glowing in the room, illuminating the furniture, the walls, and the carpet stained with the blood of her mother’s body lying beside her.
Valeria blinked several times, unable to process what she was seeing. She crawled toward her mother, ignoring the blood soaking her pajamas and staining her hands. She took her mother in her arms, screaming, hers the only voice reverberating in the room and inside her head. What did she do?
Her mother’s skin was still warm, and, when she touched her neck, a faint, but undeniable, pulse made Valeria’s own heart swell in relief.
Someone came running up behind her, and she lifted her head to see her father, white as a ghost, frozen at the sight.
“Father… Help, she’s hurt, I don’t know what happened.”
Her plea seemed to galvanize the old man into action. He crouched beside her and wove an intricate pattern into the air, above his wife. Wind blew briefly inside the house and Valeria could see her mother begin to breathe a little easier, her cheeks gaining some much-needed color. Valeria choked back a sob, but knew it wasn’t the time to lose it. Lionel took a deep breath and nodded at her daughter. “She’s stabilized, help me carry her into our room.”
They fumbled together but moved Ann as carefully as they could to her bed. Once in the bedroom, they assessed the damage to her body, noticing many bruises and scratches, as well as a wound on her side and her head. Valeria tasted bile when she saw the same injuries that had been inflicted on her in her dream, except for the two wounds Was this a coincidence?
Lionel healed most of them, careful as he skimmed the skin, closing the scratches. Valeria could see unshed tears in his eyes, as he took care of the head wound, reducing the swelling significantly. All Valeria could do was hold her mother’s hand, as she had done for her not long ago, and pray.
When he finished attending to Ann, Lionel sighed and sat on the side of the bed for a while, observing her, immobile. As Valeria looked around, she saw the blood on her stained clothing and the bed cover. An easy spell to remove it. One Valeria would not attempt.
“Will she be okay? Why isn’t she waking up?”
Lionel turned to her, almost with a look of surprise on his face, as if he had forgotten all about his daughter sitting nearby all that time.
“I don’t know. She’s fading away although I did everything I could to stabilize her. Head wounds are always problematic, and she’s lost a lot of blood.”
Lionel Lancaster wove spells, building up a sheer amount of power Valeria had seldom seen in her life. Desperation shaded his magic, making it swirl with added force around them in the room.
He wove repeatedly, until Valeria saw her mother become even paler, her breath slowly leaving her…. Until there was none.
Lionel fell silently to his knees, as if praying, until she saw his shoulders shake in a silent sob.
She couldn’t … could she? Impossible! No! Her mind screamed, but her body was motionless as if frozen inside. Feelings evaded her. Her mother was dead. She had killed her mother, and no emotion surfaced. She only sat beside her mother’s lifeless form, clutching her cooling hand as her father shattered in despair.
As a robot, her father finally stood up, wiping his cheeks. He straightened his clothes and walked to the door. Valeria couldn’t remove her gaze from her mother, immobile, so unlike her. Normally full of energy and chatter, it was unnerving to see her so still.
“Valeria?”
It has been too long since her father had used her given name with such a soft tone in his voice. She turned her head.
“Come with me, child.”
Valeria nodded and squeezed her mother’s hand before kissing her brow, still not realizing what had just happened. When she exited the room, she felt disconnected, as if her brain and body worked separately and her emotions had taken a break. She felt the drying blood on her hands and knees, the cold sweat on her neck and spine, how frozen her body felt, shivering, but she didn’t give a damn.
She turned the corner and followed her father to his study. Lionel was now by the window, a small glass with amber liquid in his hand. The sun was barely high enough to be called morning, but she could almost use alcohol too right now. When he sensed her presence, Lionel turned and looked at her. Without a word, he went to sit on the long brown leather sofa near the window and patted the place beside him.
Valeria mechanically went to sit beside him, and when she turned to him, words poured from her lips at an alarming rate. She couldn’t stop them. She couldn’t control the flow or speed. She detailed all the past incidents that occurred since the hunt, since her concussion. Lionel stayed silent, his eyes only on her, listening.
She didn’t know how long she explained everything. It couldn’t have been that long as, for most of the incidents, she couldn’t recall anything apart from what happened just before or immediately after. Once silent, and desperate to catch her breath, Valeria waited. Her father got to his feet and started pacing the study, back and forth, until he gulped the last of his drink, set the tumbler on his desk and finally turned to her.
“This is all very strange. What’s happening to you, I haven’t heard of anything similar before. Of course, others of our kind have been hurt or injured, even suffered a concussion as you did, but none of those injuries have influenced their p
owers or their control over them. What you’re talking about resembles more of a curse, Valeria.”
She swallowed. Curses were never to be taken lightly. Many of them were unpredictable and often difficult, if not impossible, to get rid of.
“To be cursed, I would have to be attacked by one of our kind. And I’m sure there would have been a magical leak of some sort due to it, one you or Mom would have picked up.”
Lionel nodded and rubbed the back of his head. “You’re right. There is nothing I can detect off you. And that … kiss from the shifter wouldn’t be able to affect you magically. I need more time to research what is happening. And time is not something we have right now.”
That made her blink. “What do you mean, we don’t have time?”
Lionel came back to sit beside her and took her hand. “A witch has been attacked and killed. I need to report it.”
Valeria stared disbelieving at her father. “What? What do you mean report it? I didn’t intend to murder my own mother! I don’t even know what happened to me, or what I did!”
Lionel took her hand, and she saw now how badly she was shaking. Valeria grabbed her father’s hand like a lifeline.
“Valeria, my darling. Listen to me. Something happened here, something that wounded your mother so badly she died. You know the rule; no witch can attack or kill another. Not without having Enforcers sent after them.”
“I didn’t do anything!” A part of her winced at her vehement tone. After all, could she be that sure about it? “Father, I didn’t hurt Mother. Not consciously, at least.”
With his free hand, Lionel cupped her cheek, forcing her to look deep into his dark eyes. “I know, daughter. I believe you. But as Chief Enforcer, I cannot change the laws for you. If the Enforcers capture you and you’re proven insane or dangerous, you will lose your freedom forever, you will be put away; a fate even worse than death. A mad witch cannot be left roaming this world alone. My child, there is only one solution. You must flee, hide until I can find a solution, find what ails you. If you flee, you’ll be accused of attacking your mother, but you will give me more time.”
