The Illuminated Witch

by Imogene Nix

  The professor pointed to a single row of glyphs. “Here. This is where the secret is hidden.” She sat down on the stone floor then took out a notepad and tablet device, before she began drawing the pictures and making notations.

  Javed and Celina waited in silence as she kept working. The air grew close and a little dust filled the air. Celina felt excitement well inside her. She wanted to ask what the professor had learned, but one quick glance at Javed, who silently shook his head, told her that it wasn’t the time or place. So she waited, scuffing at the sandy floors with her feet and listening to the sounds of scuttling bugs.

  Eventually, the professor stood, dusted off her skirt and faced them. “I have what we need.”

  They hurried back through the corridors and up the stairs, along the sands and into the helicopter. It was only when they were back in the air that Celina had enough breath to ask, “Why are we hurrying? And what did she find?” She was tired and struggled to comprehend their actions.

  “We can discuss it on the way home.” His words were final and Celina frowned. Why come all this way, if not to learn what was written on the walls? But then, it really wasn’t her place to ask, she reminded herself. Instead, Celina gave in to the tiredness that had dragged at her in the last few days. She placed her head on Javed’s shoulder and dozed off.

  * * * *

  Javed frowned, concerned by the exhaustion he could see on Celina’s face. Deep blue bruising had formed under her eyes, and the skin of her cheeks was chalky white. There wasn’t much he could do right now, but when they got home he’d be sure to get Kharisma to check her over.

  He turned away and headed for the cabin. Professor Anderson waited for him, her brow furrowed as he sat himself down opposite her. Every blind had been dropped to keep the sun out of the living area. He was uncomfortable traveling during the day—the primeval pull of sleep called—but he had things to do before he could curl around Celina’s body and take his own rest.

  “Have you discovered anything?” She glanced up. He felt a shimmer ripple through him. This woman had power he hadn’t sensed before. For a moment the predator inside him roared. He pushed it back down and waited.

  “Well, yes and no.” With a single finger, the professor pushed the metal bridge of her glasses higher up before exhaling dramatically. “It depends on exactly what you want to know.”

  “I need to know where I can find the prophecy.” He couldn’t control the small hint of frustration.

  She smiled. “Well, that’s actually really simple.” She turned the tablet device to face him. He realized she had photographed the carvings on the wall. “See this?” She pointed to a particularly long sample of glyphs.

  “Yeah.”

  “At the beginning there were four of them. Four with the power of Gods. Four Gods the Egyptians bowed down to.” He understood what she meant, but was unsure as to the importance of her words.

  “There were also three women—High Priestesses, if you will. They came to the Princess, told her of their fears, but she was smitten by one of the Gods. Yet another wanted her.”

  She muttered again to herself as she peered down to the notebook, flicking through pages. “His name isn’t clear. But what is is that she rebuffed his advances. The Priestesses had warned the Princess. But she continued to ignore them, taking one of the others as her lover. He died. He was murdered before the child of their union could be born. There is no record of the fate of the child, only that it was born. It was a girl child. Here, we can see that the vengeful God came searching for her. He claimed that the child was evil and had to die. Unable to find the child, he killed the Princess. Tore out her throat and bathed in her blood.”

  The professor shrugged, her face pale, and his uneasiness grew.

  “There is one small hint if you check here.” She pointed to another spot. “There is a scroll, given to the strongest and oldest. It gives instructions on how to defeat the evil God. It was given to one of her protectors, placed there on the Princess’ demand. Find that and you will find the truth. From what I am seeing here, that is the key to your prophecy.”

  Javed’s mind whirled. The oldest. The strongest. That would now be Cressida. Their overlord, Caridad, had utilized her in the centuries past as her personal warrior and guard, until Cressida had petitioned for her own nest. No one was actually sure how old Cressida was. In fact, he wasn’t even sure that was her original name. Over the years many vampires had changed their names to hide the fact that they didn’t age. They just passed their items onto their heir, which was always them, in another guise.

  He needed to contact Cressida, but she would be asleep. It was noon at home, he calculated, glancing at his watch. Right now there wasn’t much else he could do.

  He stood, and turned back to the sleeping cabin. He needed to think everything over.

  “Professor, if you would excuse me. I will retire.”

  The professor inclined her head. “Of course. The daytime must be extremely draining for you.”

  He avoided her comment, instead peering at her. “Please, make yourself comfortable. There is a sleeping room available for your use.”

  “Thank you, Master Javed, but I do not require that at this time. If I need anything, I will ask the stewardess.”

  He bowed low and left her.

  He closed the door to the cabin where Celina slept, setting the security lock on it. Thoughts crowded his mind. A child was born. The child of a God? Was there such a thing? Eight hundred years ago he would have said yes. Back then his faith had been firm. He had never heard of vampires or others—just the scourge of the Christian Knights.

  Over the years his fundamental beliefs had wavered and fallen away as he’d seen and participated in battle after battle, each one stealing another bit of his soul until he’d felt empty inside.

  He stripped off his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on the chair in the corner. “Unlike the rest of my clothes since Celina came into my life.”

  Javed lifted the sheet and crawled under, frowning once more. Celina didn’t move. He reminded himself that he would talk to Kharisma about that. It felt unnatural. He tugged her closer, welcoming the warmth of her body, and closed his eyes.

  * * * *

  The plane circled the airstrip as dusk fell. Celina was pleased to be home. Traveling was exciting, but there was nothing quite like her own bed, especially when she was feeling as tired as now.

  She smothered a yawn. “We’ll head home first?”

  Javed held her hand, and she shivered. He was a truly inventive lover. Her body still tingled from the way he’d woken her, his desire urgent. Her face flamed. She could see that he knew what she was thinking about, in the way his gaze settled on her body. The hooded desire was present in his eyes. Her body had reacted as it always did, the pulse of passion beginning to throb once more. She saw the flare of his nostrils and knew he could tell.

  When he glanced away, she felt the break of the sensual connection between them. It left her feeling empty.

  “Yes. There are things that need to be done before we head over to Cressida’s estate. Papers that must be signed and I have a meeting with Daniel.” He frowned a little. “He was very quick to transfer to the nest.”

  Celina snickered quietly. “Maybe the restrictions of other nests got in the way of his romantic inclinations?” Instead of lightening Javed’s mood, though, her words were met by a deeper frown.

  The plane landed with a soft bump and Celina gazed out of the window. The familiar sights of the city entranced her. “And so we’re home.” The air temperature in the cabin dipped. Her warm breath on the window fogged it up and she felt a childish urge to draw a heart. The thought passed quickly as she heard Javed unfasten his seatbelt.

  The plane taxied to a halt outside the large hangar and the professor collected her bag. “It’s been a fascinating trip, Master Javed. Celina, I hope we get to meet again someday.”

  The door was opened as the steps were wheeled into place.
Celina clutched her bag on her shoulder. Javed squeezed her hand as she clambered down the metal stairs. The big, black car he seemed to prefer waited on the tarmac. She climbed in before him.

  The trip to the nest was silent. Javed looked out of the window. She didn’t doubt that there was a lot on his mind. He hadn’t yet told her what conclusions Professor Anderson had come up with. Instead, she concentrated on the list of things Bertha had told her to practice.

  In the last few days, each time she had searched for her magic, it had been pale, insubstantial. Her stomach jittered thinking that she might have somehow used it all up or damaged it. So much had occurred in a short period of time and she had no frame of reference.

  They entered the grounds, sweeping up the pebbled drive, and the house shone like a beacon in the dark night.

  Groups of people milled around, arms waving urgently. It was clear something negative had occurred in their absence. She chanced a quick glance at Javed—his face was set in lines of anger as he leaned forward, his eyes shining the golden color she had learned to fear. “Javed?”

  Her voice shook and she extended her hand toward him.

  “Stay here.”

  The words were implacable—icy cold. She shivered.

  He left the car and surged forward. Kharisma met him halfway, her face drawn. Celina gripped the arm of the car seat, wanting to be there. She needed to know what had happened.

  When Javed did turn back, she saw an unfathomable emotion in his gaze. It captured her attention, freezing her bones. The news was bad. It was clear in the set of his shoulders.

  Celina shook as he made his way toward her. She opened the door and climbed out. “What is it, Javed? What’s wrong?”

  His eyes were now full of sorrow, and she felt it like a punch in the gut. “I’m so sorry, Celina.”

  “What happened? Just tell me?” She gripped his arm painfully.

  “Tonight the nest was attacked. Whoever it was took Bertha.” He swept Celina into his arms just as his words hit home.

  Bertha! Her mentor and first friend in this new world. “How?”

  “Someone rang. Whoever they were pretended to be you. They said you needed her at the airport. It was just on dusk. They took her by force as she was heading for her car.”

  “No! That can’t be true.” She pulled away as denial coursed hot through her veins. “We’ll find her. They can’t have her. She’s my friend.”

  “We will. We’ll find her and bring her home.” But no matter what Javed said now, Bertha was still alone. In the hands of our enemies.

  Chapter Eleven

  Anger boiled in his gut. One of his nestlings taken from her very home! It was unacceptable. He clutched Celina close to him and hustled her inside. No telling who remained out there, observing them.

  Kharisma flanked them, her face hard and cold. Her eyes were burnished gold. He’d be willing to bet his were the same. Right now his hands itched to grasp his scimitar and gun.

  “Do we have any clues yet?”

  Kharisma shook her head as she marched beside him.

  “Not yet. I’m about to send a crew out. I have already contacted Xavier and Cressida. They too will put out feelers through their own channels.”

  Celina was crying silently, as if her energy was already spent. Once inside he cast a despairing glance at Kharisma. “I need you to check Celina.”

  “Javed, we need to find Bertha first. I’ll see Celina later.” The exasperation in her tone angered him. Yes, we have to find Bertha, but right now we don’t have another witch capable of any kind of warding. The witch who’d been injured at the gallery had chosen to return to her family. They would need to call on other nests again— A wholly unacceptable situation, he told himself.

  “No. If we need wards, we need Celina to be able to erect them. There’s something wrong.” Right now she was almost slumping in his arms. Fear coursed through him. What if it is something serious?

  “Javed…” She spun on her heel, staring at him, but she acquiesced, her face showing a pained acceptance of his request. “Fine. Come on, Celina.”

  Celina let go of him and staggered. Kharisma flashed him a shocked glance. “What’s wrong with her?” She grimaced and scooped Celina up in her arms. “All right, you go and I’ll get her to the clinic.”

  Javed watched as she strode off. His stomach roiled and he felt torn. He had his responsibility to the nest, but his connection to Celina screamed that he should be with her as well.

  He headed for his office. The phone rang as he settled in his seat. He picked up the call.

  “Javed? Cressida here. What happened?” Her voice was calm. It settled him as he slumped in his office chair.

  “Celina and I had just arrived back from Egypt. As we drove to the nest, we could see everyone on the lawn. Kharisma informed me that the nest was attacked and the assailants took Bertha, our senior witch.”

  He searched the empty white walls, hoping for a hint of assurance that he was doing his job well. But responsibility rode him hard. “I wasn’t here, Cressida.” Everything inside him ached. How can this have happened?

  “Javed, it’s the price we pay when we lead. You have done nothing improper. Indeed you were following the directive of the Council.” She spoke soothingly, but a fierce gush of anger overflowed.

  “I wasn’t here. One of my nestlings is out there, somewhere. In the hands of someone who would rip her away from where she belongs. We don’t even know what is happening to her. It’s…” He felt at a loss for words.

  “That’s what makes you a leader, Javed. You care. Now, I have my best teams looking. Can your other witch find her?”

  He dropped his head to his hands. “She’s sick. There’s something wrong with her. Kharisma is checking her out now.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he listened to the silence on the other end of the line.

  “You’re in a relationship with her?”

  For a moment, he wanted to rage, but now wasn’t the time and he tamped his reaction down. “Yes. I am.” The silence drew out again. He scrubbed a hand across his aching eyes and glanced up as the door to his office opened.

  “I’ll send a witch over to you immediately. But, Javed? You’re going to have to make a decision. You know the consequences if you don’t.”

  The line broke and he was left with the beeping. He replaced the phone in the cradle and turned to Kharisma.

  “I’m sorry to say, I’m about to add two more things to your plate.” Her face was grave as she handed him a folder.

  He took it and opened the sheet. “I don’t get… Kharisma! Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Turn to the next one, Javed.” She waited as he opened to the page she had requested.

  “So?” He didn’t have time for this right now.

  “Read the report.” She indicated to the papers and he frowned. I have to read this now? Fine!

  “… it is the view that this patient shares biological and DNA markers with Daniel Markham, lately of the House Godetski. It is clear, however, that Albert Markham, father of Daniel Markham, is not the father. This finding is based on the lack of genetic markers.” He stared up at Kharisma, more confused than ever. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that your Celina is in all probability the half-sister of your new Yeux Secondes.”

  “Oh…” His brain seized with the information he’d just received.

  “Yeah, my point exactly. The results only just arrived as I sat down to check her over.”

  “Is she okay?” He leaned in, needing to hear some positive news, but Kharisma shook her head.

  “I don’t think so. To be honest, it’s almost as if she’s starving. I’d guess at the very least her magic is waning because it’s not being recharged.”

  “How…” He had to stop and close his eyes. He needed something positive right now. “How does she recharge her magic?”

  The pounding in his head grew because he knew what she was about to say.r />
  “Through sunlight. She needs to be out during the day.” He opened his eyes.

  Daylight. When I can’t protect her and only humans can be awake and outside.

  * * * *

  Kharisma led Celina to the communal eating area.

  Her knees shook violently. “I’m sorry to be such a pest. I honestly don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m not usually… I don’t usually fall apart like this.” She cringed at the wailing tones.

  Kharisma helped her find a seat. “I’ll grab you some water and food. Then we need to talk, I think. There’s a few things I need to discuss with you.”

  “Really? Can’t you just tell me now?” She bit back the bubble of panic and hunted for her equilibrium.

  “You need to eat, and I need to think over how to explain it.”

  Kharisma left her sitting at the table. Celina laid her head down on the Formica table top as she closed her eyes. Exhaustion had overtaken her after the desperate spurt of adrenaline on hearing about Bertha. Her eyes teared up again, as she remembered. “Oh God! Bertha, I wish you were here.”

  She blew her nose on the tissue crumpled in her hand then dashed away the tears that continued to course down her face. She wasn’t a weakling. It was her physical condition that was causing this. She knew that, but hated it nonetheless.

  Kharisma returned with a tray, loaded with water, juice and a sandwich. “You need to eat.”

  “I can’t.” She raised her tear-stained face to Kharisma, the woman who was well on her way to being her best female friend, apart from Bertha. The thought had her tearing up again. She moaned. “I’m not normally a watering pot. I’m not!”

  Kharisma patted her hand. “I know you aren’t. It’s just your body getting cranky with you.”

  Celina let out a watery snort of a laugh. “Oh fabulous. I can’t even laugh without sounding like a wet sponge!”