The Illuminated Witch

by Imogene Nix

  She snatched the door open, unsure where it would take her, but it was the only one in sight, so naturally it must lead out of the master’s rooms, she theorized.

  “The master would like to see you.” She stopped, shocked to find the healer Kharisma on the other side of the door.

  “I didn’t…”

  Kharisma glanced at her. The strands of her blonde hair glowed under the artificial lights shining from the ceiling. The healer was toned and tight. If she was a size eight, Celina would eat her hat. In fact, she felt downright frumpy in her own size sixteen frame against this Amazon of a woman.

  “Uh, can I go change first?” She spoke stiffly.

  The woman observed her. “Relax. He doesn’t even know you are awake yet.” There was amusement in her voice, and Celina wanted to grit her teeth together. “You know, he’s a good man.”

  “I uh… I really don’t want to discuss him.” How embarrassing! Does everyone in the nest know I have a thing for him?

  She made to head up the corridor that lay in front of her, but Kharisma stopped her. “He doesn’t need to be hurt. If you want something with him, then you need to be honest. Both of you.”

  “Look, I’m really not sure why you think you had to say something. But he’s made it pretty clear, he’s not interested. So if I could just get out of here?”

  Kharisma pointed to the door. Even as she headed for it, the woman called out to her. “Honesty starts with yourself.”

  Celina almost stopped, but with her emotions jumbling inside her, she might have said something she’d regret, so instead she laid her hands on the door and opened it.

  A breeze wafted through an open door and Celina gulped gratefully before hurrying up the steps. The house itself had four levels and from the outside appeared boxy and more than a little ugly, but it was large enough to accommodate a fledgling nest.

  The interior continued the ‘warehouse chic theme’ as Bertha had termed it, with stark whites and polished chrome. Even the flooring of polished concrete had a coldly impersonal appearance, but that was offset by the heavily padded seating areas in jewel tones and the banner-like wall hangings. It should have jarred. But it worked, Celina thought, as she hurried toward the large metal staircase and clattered upward.

  She’d been allocated a room on the top floor, so by the time she’d reached it, her legs ached unmercifully. Of course, she could have taken the lift, but she had needed time to decompress, she told herself with a nod. “Decompress my backside. You just wanted to avoid talking to anyone.”

  She flung her shirt to the bed as she started stripping, then headed for the small personal sanitation unit. As for the decorating in the nestlings’ rooms, it bordered on utilitarian, the glass and chrome married with rippled iron to complete the effect of spartan efficiency.

  Standing beneath the spray of water, naked, there really was nothing but honesty. She’d made a major mistake in kissing Javed. The sheer fact that he wanted to see her in his office made that clear.

  “He’s going to send me away.” That thought did more than just hurt her pride. It didn’t even just sting. No, it felt like someone had picked up a stake and thrust it through her heart.

  Tears leaked and mingled with the water as she leaned against the wall, both hands outstretched.

  Celina wasn’t sure just how long she stood there—it couldn’t have been a long time, but the heaving of sobs had quieted. She had to face facts and accept her fate.

  She grasped the taps and turned the flow of water off, stretched and hunted for a towel and dried herself, all the while avoiding the mirror. No doubt she had a pink nose and watery-pink eyes, and he’d see that too. But she wasn’t going to look. “Why make things any worse than they already are?”

  In the bedroom, she hauled on panties and bra, opened her wardrobe and found a casual shirt and teamed it with old well washed jeans and her favorite boots. Her hair she tamed into a ponytail and decided against makeup. “This is as good as it’s going to get.”

  With a heavy heart, she headed downstairs. But when she reached the door to his office, it swung open before she could even knock.

  Idris, Javed’s Welsh second, stalked out and stopped just in front of her. “Don’t let him steamroller you into bed.” In his eyes, there was turmoil and anger. His stiff movements held her stock still as he gripped her arm painfully and dragged her close.

  He kissed her before she could shift away, but she didn’t want it. Didn’t want him and she shoved against his broad chest, trying to make him back down. It was unsuccessful.

  A roar of wrath sounded, and Idris was gone. Instead, an incandescently furious Javed pinned him against the wall.

  “Don’t. Ever. Touch. Her. Again.”

  Her heart thudded like a freight train, and she panted as sensible thoughts fled. She’d never seen Javed enraged. Now he was scary. His eyes glowed and the length of his teeth and nails together with the wall of anger nearly stole her breath.

  Idris had paled. In fact, he appeared sick. “I won’t. Never again, I promise, Javed.”

  With that, Javed flung him across the walkway, where he collided against the metal railing with a bang and a thud. Idris slid to the ground. “Get out of here. Never return.”

  His words carried power and a palpable ripple moved through the room. She watched as Idris picked himself up off the floor and scurried away. Silence reigned as those waiting nearby returned to their tasks in silence.

  Javed growled, impatient and ill-tempered as Idris fled. The altercation, if he could name it something so tame, hadn’t been pretty. No second liked to be dismissed, but for a second in command it was a significant loss of face. And he still didn’t have a Yeux Secondes.

  Seeing Idris kissing Celina had tripped the switch on the rage. It had surged through him during the run-in. He’d been unable to contain the fury when he saw her push against him. She hadn’t wanted it. Not his touch or his caress.

  “Shall we?” He indicated the room.

  She nodded and preceded him into the office.

  He fought to contain the memories, but they tumbled around him. He’d heard the bastard’s words. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth while he waited for his body to settle. The pounding of heartbeats slowed as those who’d witnessed the scene returned to their tasks and finally, sure he was in control, he turned.

  He castigated himself for a fool. He should have controlled himself.

  Celina had remained in the same spot she’d stood in when he’d wrenched Idris away from her, until he’d spoken. He didn’t know what the emotion on her face was.

  Fury? Not really. Fear? Perhaps there was a fair dose, but it was something else. Not for the first time, he wished he could read what went on inside her head.

  She was stiff, and he could still see the red bruises and welts on her face and scowled. “Do you feel any better?”

  “What?”

  “Your injuries. Are they any better?” When she finally glanced into his eyes, he read the confusion.

  “I… Uh yes. A little.” She hardly breathed, but he could see she’d showered and changed. The scent of her filled his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply. “Look. Just tell me where I’m going and I’ll be gone as soon as I can pack.” The words tumbled from her lips, and he was shocked.

  “Leave? You aren’t going anywhere. I called you here to tell you that I was asking Idris to leave.” He shifted closer and gazed at her shocked face. “I told you, I can’t let you go.”

  “But he’s your second.”

  “No. We wouldn’t work well together. It’s not uncommon for a new nest and master to go through several seconds before he finds one he is comfortable with. I have already contacted Cressida.” He followed Celina with his gaze. “But please, take a seat.”

  He shook his head at the confusion he saw on her face. How the hell has it got this complicated?

  “I will be making an announcement later. But I wanted you to know first.” He rubbed the back of his neck
as he turned away. When he swung back, Celina was still standing, waiting for his announcement. “Kharisma is to be my new second.”

  The shock on her face would have been amusing if the situation hadn’t been quite so trying. “Kharisma? But wasn’t she…?” Celina broke off. He could read the thoughts running through her. Kharisma had been his lover, something he’d never hidden.

  “She was. But we are friends. I trust her. And there are few who have the range of skills she does. Strategically she’s brilliant. She’s also an excellent fighter as well as healer.”

  Celina stepped back. “So why did you want to tell me?”

  “Because I had to. I felt, under the circumstances…”

  She hunted for a chair and sat down heavily. “I don’t get this.” The whispered words betrayed her feelings.

  “I don’t either. All I know is I can’t let you go. And I need someone I can trust in my corner right about now.”

  “So where does that leave…?” She spread her hands.

  “I don’t know that either.”

  * * * *

  Creedar paced the length of his grotto. Jelani had been gone for hours. He’d slaked his initial thirst before renewing himself, locked deep within the body of the red-haired woman. He’d enjoyed the result, then had fed deeply before casting her body aside. Jelani had suggested using her to draw their quarry. So he’d allowed the removal of the remains to who knew where.

  It had been the remarkable resemblance to his youngest sister that had drawn him to the woman, to spare her initially. He, together with his sisters and brother, had enjoyed their peculiar union for many years, until they had drifted apart. Of course, they were Gods and Goddesses who walked among the humans. Even the Babylonian ruler Psamtek, had bowed before him even after his invasion of Egypt.

  Over time, his brother and sisters had found lovers, unlike him, claiming they no longer felt their relationship was appropriate. He’d stayed true to their nature.

  Of course, then she, his youngest sister, had begotten a child.

  That was strictly forbidden, his mother had been most clear on that. They might make servants of their vampires, something they had all eagerly embraced, but they weren’t to pass on their abilities and bloodline.

  He’d regretted the necessity of destroying his siblings. He missed them. The bond between them had been deep and satisfying of all his needs.

  His hunger roared to life once more. “Where is Jelani? I require food.” His mind cast about, seeking the servant he had made so many centuries before.

  “Master!” His servant hurried into the cavern. “I bring food and news.”

  He controlled his motions and waited for Jelani to speak.

  “They have found the artifact that would show them where to find the tomb, telling of the others. It was foretold at the investiture of this new nest that they must find it. Sire, what would you have me do?” Jelani got to the floor and effaced himself, while anger seethed within Creedar.

  “Do? You must find the receptacle. Kill whoever took it. They must not live long enough to uncover my secrets.” Surely one new nest could not be strong enough to keep him from the secrets hidden within the vessel. Had he not spent centuries guarding his secrets?

  But I lost the sword to Estersham. The murmur inside his head reminded him of the last time he had trusted someone wholly unconnected too much. The last time had resulted in the loss of the Sword of Vengeance.

  “Master, the nests are not as they were. They are now living openly. They are protected and strong.”

  “Openly? What untruth is this? Humans cannot live with vampires. The same as they cannot live openly with others. That was the edict from my maker.” His voice echoed through the cavern and Jelani quaked before him.

  “Come. First sustenance, then you will do my bidding.” He waited for Jelani to bow and retreated to his chair. There were other things, far more important right now, to consider.

  Chapter Six

  Celina thumbed through the book in front of her. She suppressed a yawn, still unused to working during the night and sleeping through the day, but she’d been told it was the way that some nests worked. What I wouldn’t give for a coffee right now.

  Bertha had become standoffish in the last few days, and she half understood why. Idris had been sent away, and she’d disappeared without warning Bertha or anyone else and nearly got herself killed then had spent a day sequestered in the master’s rooms.

  She’d also found the artifact.

  No neophyte was supposed to do anything like that. Or so Bertha had informed her.

  “So now I’m stuck here practicing warding.” Bertha had given her specific instructions to practice erecting wards on the items in the rooms they used. After they were up, she would try to break through the spell work. It was an attempt to work out her strengths and weaknesses but Celina chafed. “I’d rather be doing something useful.”

  “Warding is very useful. If done correctly it will keep the uninvited out of our living quarters. And believe me, I remember the torching of the manor all those years ago. So don’t whinge. Just do what you are asked.”

  “Torching of the manor? What happened?” She leaned forward hoping to learn more, but Bertha just shut her mouth and refused to say anything. In disgust, Celina took another look at the book and snorted.

  Celina picked up her athame and prepared her circle, then cleared her mind. Her slow and careful movements were assessed by Bertha, she knew. Celina called upon the light, something she’d already shown an affinity for. This time the energies flowed easily as she raised her arms and imagined a dome settling over the doll’s house she’d been given to start with. The flare of pink light no longer surprised her. She kept the energies pouring down until she was certain they were complete, then finished her task.

  As Bertha stepped forward, Celina dismissed the circle and hovered against the wall, watching in silence.

  Bertha cast a circle and set to work. But no matter what she did, Bertha could not break the spell she’d wrought. Eventually, her mentor stepped beside her. “I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve created a ward I cannot break. So let’s go outside and practice on something larger, shall we?”

  Celina and Bertha had just emerged from the basement into the corridor when the noises began.

  Celina hurried quickly to the doorway, to find it barred. “What’s going on?” She could hear the anxiety in her own voice. But damn it, she needed to know.

  “We are under attack.” Javed’s terse words stopped her. She inhaled deeply, understanding that this, the place where they existed, wasn’t as safe as she’d thought it.

  “What?”

  “Attack. Now stay inside safely.” He brushed past her and out through the door he’d cracked open.

  She wanted to stop him, but knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. Her stomach roiled as the sounds of fighting filled the air. Cries and clangs married with thuds. Screams rent the night, and she shivered.

  Javed. Surely, he should have stayed inside? As he was the master, surely the nestlings were supposed to protect him? But even as the thoughts surfaced, she squashed them. He was a fighter. She’d already seen that in the way he walked, his body loose and with a long vicious-looking curling sword and the UV gun strapped to his side. She’d seen the way his attention had zeroed in on whatever was going on outside. In his eyes there had been a flat distant look.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  She shivered at Bertha’s words. “How do you know that? You can’t be certain.”

  Bertha laid her hand on Celina’s. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to stop the hot sting of tears.

  Celina had to hold herself still as the sounds of the battle raged. She needed to know that he was safe, but also understood she had nothing to offer the nest during this time. Her heart continued to race as the adrenaline kicked in.

  How long the skirmish went on for, she couldn’t honestly say. Minutes and seconds flowed and ebbed, yet the battl
e felt as if it was outside of the regular flow of time. She knew Bertha stood beside her, working as her hands twitched. She felt the magic filling the space around her and hated that she had nothing to do. No way to either protect or help those battling outside. Not like at the gallery. She now knew, if and when this happened again, she would have skills to offer.

  A stray memory seeped. “The stone! I can use the stone. Let me out there.” She turned to the vampire guard at the door, but he shook his head almost apologetically.

  “The stone would be no good. We would need to get it outside, then have both camps separate. Which isn’t how battle works.”

  The small feeling of usefulness melted away. “But—”

  He shook his head again. “You just need to wait.”

  The sounds of the battle grew dim, less distinct until it stopped totally. She made to step to the door, but the guard held out his hand. “Not yet.”

  She gulped. What else could be happening? The air was thick with tension, so thick that breathing had become hard. But still she waited.

  Finally, the door opened and some of the nest vampires carried the injured within, before heading to the secured zone. She peered into the gloom, discerning some small movements. She curled her fingers into the palms of her hands and she took a tentative step forward.

  Even as she reached the door, he was there. “Javed!” His face was drawn and tight, but infinitely welcome to her.

  She flung herself forward, needing to touch him. To assure herself that he’d come through intact. He oomphed as she launched herself, then slid her arms around his waist, holding on tightly.

  He felt warm and comforting and she sank into the embrace. Now she allowed herself to experience the desperation that had zinged through her while he’d been outside. “I was so scared.”