by M. K. Dawn
“We are.” Evie smiled. “Shall we sit?”
Darrien followed her to join the others in the living room. “So, you know why we’re here?”
Guinevere didn’t hesitate. “To ask for help in restoring order after the death of the Immortal Council broke.”
Again, no mention of the werewolf curse—the actual reason they’d come seeking help.
Samantha went to correct her. “Actually—”
“Why would you think we—the four of us—would want to restore the reign the Immortal Council created?” Darrien interrupted before she could say anything more. He still wasn’t sure they could trust the witches. “That we could restore things.”
“As Samantha is the daughter of Luther, I assume he is the one who sent you here.”
Samantha leaned closer. “He did. In his own way.”
“After the Great Reveal, the Primordials came here to ask the coven for help altering the memories of all the world’s vampires and suppressing their true nature. With our help, they were each able to cast a spell—one that fed off their life’s spirit—to create the Sanguine illusion. Luther’s strength was mind control. His spell made all vampires forget they were vampires and altered their reality before the Great Reveal, as I’m sure Darrien can attest to.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. “We figured since after he died, all my memories returned. Hurt like a bitch.”
Guinevere continued. “The others suppressed hunger, aversion to sunlight, and all the other traits that make vampires who they are.”
“Why did they do it?” Samantha asked.
“The Primordials hated the monsters they had become.”
Evie pressed her lips together. “Still, they created more.”
“Not at first, but then those around them—their loved ones—began to perish. Can you imagine the pain they must have gone through, watching a spouse grow old and die? A child? After several generations, they couldn’t take the loss any longer. Their spouse turned after they were through having children and then their children turned in their early twenties. The population grew. Some vampires were careless and turned any who discovered their secret and wished to live forever. Most took on a human spouse and followed in the tradition of the Primordials.”
“Not after the Great Reveal.” The vein in Ethan’s temple pulsed.
“Though I believe they did so out of concern for their people, I cannot speak of the lengths the Immortal Council took to protect their secret. I believe this brings us back to where we started: restoration.”
Samantha fiddled with her bottom lip. “You want things to go back to how they were? The facade of synthetic blood? Wiping all the vampires' memories? Is that even possible?”
“As you may have figured out by now as a direct heir of Luther—his blood made you a vampire—you inherited his magic.”
“I can alter memories. One person at a time, and after several failed attempts.”
Guinevere reached over and patted her knee. “Because you haven’t trained to harness that power.”
“Your coven could teach me how to do that?”
“We could,” a pained expression shadowed her usual brightness, “but we won’t.”
Darrien’s nails bit into his hands. “Then how do you plan to restore order to the world?”
“That was the Council’s plan, and it is not one our coven ever wishes to inflict on the world again.”
Ethan tossed his hands in the air as he leaned back on the couch. “So we came here for nothing?”
Samantha seized his hands and gave him a pointed look. “There may be other ways they can help us, remember?”
In the mist of Guinevere’s story, it was easy to forget that they came here to stop the werewolves from trying to kill Samantha, not save the world.
“There is another way we can help. One we believe will put an end to all of this once and for all.”
“How?” Darrien shifted back and forth.
“We believe we have found a way to break the curse. Turn vampires back into their human form.”
Samantha covered her mouth, eyes wide.
The rest of them didn’t react too shocked for words. Except for Darrien, who thought anything that sounded too good to be true probably was. “And you have proof this will work?”
“Proof is not a term relative to witches. We either perform the spell and it works, or it does not.”
“So why not just perform the spell,” Evie asked.
Guinevere’s eyes softened. “If only it were that simple. The curse runs through the blood of the Primordials’ next heir. To break the curse, all the heirs must be together, as were the Primordials when the curse was cast.”
“One of the many problems I’d anticipated.” Darrien rubbed his hands together. “There were only six Immortal Council Members, not seven. There are only six heirs.”
“We have a witch that is a descendant of the seventh. Her presence should work.”
Samantha picked at the hole in her jeans. “What if we do nothing and just let things be as they are? Vampires can manage their hunger and don’t have to kill people to survive. Maybe humans would donate blood if they knew it would prevent the vampires from losing control.”
Guinevere tilted her head. “You don’t wish to be human again?”
“I was never human. I was born half-vampire.”
Ethan sat up, his jaw set. “What about the werewolves? Will they be human again?”
“This spell will revoke immortality, so yes, it will affect the werewolves.” There was something in Guinevere’s eyes that Darrien couldn’t pinpoint. It wasn’t so much like she was lying, but she was holding something back.
“I understand this is a difficult decision—one that will decide the fate of two races—but you must understand, without the Sanguine mask, most vampires have little control over their natural instincts. The God of Darkness made sure of that. Maybe if I showed you.”
Guinevere waved her hand and the TV screen behind her flickered on to a fuzzy picture of what looked to be a group doing some very inappropriate things.
Darrien narrowed his eyes. “Porn?”
Evie nudged him in the ribs.
“These sets are old and the picture quality is horrific.” Guinevere dragged her hand forward and with it, the broadcast projected over her head. “Better?”
“Son of a bitch.” Darrien’s pulse raced as what he could only describe as chaos came into view. “They’re killing them—humans—ripping their throats out without an ounce of remorse.”
“Yes. The creation of so many vampires by those other than the Primordials has thinned the bloodline to the point that many have lost all sense of their humanity.”
“Not all of them,” Darrien pointed out. “I recognize some of them from the Council.”
Guinevere turned to a shaken Samantha. “It’s why, my dear, your suggestion will never work. We must rid the world of this curse or there will be nothing mortal left.”
“Humans must be terrified.” Samantha’s voice trembled.
“We all are.” Guinevere stood. “Do you think a day will be enough for you to make your decision?”
“Yes,” Samantha said with confidence Darrien didn’t expect.
“Good, I will return after dinner—”
“I meant yes, do the spell.” Samantha stood. “The sooner the better.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Darrien slammed the front door behind Guinevere and stormed over to Samantha. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
Ethan shuffled closer to her side, ready to intervene if necessary.
“Me?” Samantha pointed at the projection of the TV still hovering over the chair where Guinevere had sat. “Do you see what they’re doing? We have to stop them.”
“We?” Darrien made a show out of counting off the four of them left in the room. “We are a group of misfits that will get ourselves killed if we storm the castle.”
“It’s not just us; the witches will be t
here.” Samantha's eyes flicked to the screen once again.
They needed to turn it off, but Ethan wasn’t sure if the rest of them were ready.
“What are the witches going to do against thousands of blood-thirsty vampires? Wave their hands? A second is all we need to rip their throats out. They wouldn’t even know what hit them.”
Evie moved closer to Darrien and ran a hand down his arm. “Maybe we can talk about this without yelling at each other?”
With Darrien’s anger dangerously close to boiling over, Ethan half expected him to jerk away from Evie’s touch, but he did just the opposite. “You’re right. It’s just…I don’t trust her. There’s something she’s not telling us.”
“We don’t know that.” Samantha settled back on the couch. “And I don’t want to see the world go back to how it was. With vampires kidnapping humans and draining them of their blood. Or for vampires to go back to thinking they are something they're not. I don’t want to be responsible for taking those memories away. Their way is better.”
Ethan agreed; there was no going backwards. Even if the vampires forgot who they were, humans wouldn’t. He would die making sure they never forgot. “I agree their way is better, but I am skeptical. It all sounds a little too easy. Silvaria said the Primordials hated who they’d become and did everything they could to break the curse but couldn’t.”
Samantha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Maybe it just took this long to find the right spell. I…all those poor people.”
Evie joined Samantha on the couch and wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling her into a hug. “It’s awful. I agree, we have to put an end to it.”
“I’m not arguing that.” The anger in Darrien’s voice faded, but the tension remained. “I think we need another opinion.”
Ethan paced the room. “Silvaria?”
“How do we know we can trust her?” Evie asked.
“For one,” Darrien said, “Guinevere still hasn’t told us how the Primordials tried to break the curse and created werewolves.”
Samantha moved out of Evie’s embrace. “Maybe she doesn’t think it’s relevant. It’s an interesting story and all, but it has nothing to do with what’s happening right now.”
“I’ll give you that,” Darrien clicked his tongue, “but what about the curses Ethan and Evie were under? She said nothing about them before and she didn’t ask how they were broken.”
“Maybe she didn’t see it as a big deal?” Samantha said with less conviction before adding, “Though it’s suspicious. That doesn’t mean we can trust Silvaria either.”
“I’m the only one you can trust,” Silvaria’s voice cut through the air seconds before she appeared in the middle of the kitchen her hair braided down her back.
“Spying on us doesn’t do much to help your argument on that point.” Darrien gestured her into the living room. “Please, come in. Make yourself at home.”
“I heard rumors,” Silvaria took a seat on the empty sofa, “that Guinevere had planned on speaking with you today to reveal what help she would offer. I knew there was no way we would agree to restore what the Primordials had in place before their death. Besides, the heirs are not strong enough to maintain those sorts of spells for any length of time. Your father would have known.”
“Any idea why my father sent us to Euphenia?”
Silvaria intertwined her fingers. “I’m not sure, but I’ll look into it.”
“Since we have you here,” Darrien sat beside her, “you heard what Guinevere offered. Got an opinion on that spell?”
She rubbed at her eyes. “Right. If I could be blunt…?”
Darrien’s mouth twitched. “I think we would all appreciate a little bluntness right about now.”
“It’s bullshit.”
Samantha crossed her arms in a huff. “And what, we’re supposed to just take your word for it?”
“You cannot break a curse cast upon you by a God. There is no witch in this world powerful enough to do such a thing.”
“You broke Ethan and Evie’s curses,” Samantha countered.
“Yes,” Silvaria’s face tightened, “a curse by another, less powerful witch. Speaking of curses, did Guinevere mention them?”
“No,” Evie whispered, patting Samantha on the leg, “but they’re gone now. Do you think it’s possible she didn’t notice them before?”
“When I broke the curses, I left their imprints behind.”
Evie straightened. “What does that mean?”
“Other witches will sense the curse as if it is still present. She wants them in place. Isn’t that enough proof of how she’s being dishonest?”
“It doesn’t mean the spell won’t work,” Samantha said, her protest fading with each hole Silvaria poked.
Ethan wanted to say something to back her up, but the more Silvaria spoke the more he feared what Guinevere had planned. “Do you know what her spell will do? I mean, she has to have something devised to risk going to the Immortal Institute.”
“There is only one thing I can think of.” Silvaria shook out her hands. “It is the one thing witches fear the most: The Stone of Decadence. It was an artifact given to our coven and has never been used for fear of the repercussions.”
Ethan’s muscles twitched. “What does it do?”
“Legend says it can siphon magic from those the stone is used against.”
Samantha sniffled. The tears she’d shed early were gone, but her red blotchy face gave away the empathy she felt for those who suffered at the hands of her people. “We’re not witches.”
“Witches are not the only ones who possess magic.” Silvaria kneeled in front of her. “You—all of you—were once mortal and then you died. Nature does not bring people back from the dead. Only magic can do that.”
“Shit,” Ethan muttered as he caught the eyes of each one of his friends.
Silvaria looked up at him. “You see where this is going, don’t you?”
Ethan dropped his head. “The last thing each of us did was die. Take away the magic that is keeping us alive and we revert back to humans, as Guinevere said, but we’ll all be dead.”
“Yes,” Silvaria whispered.
Darrien stood and ran his hands through his hair. “How can we sure be that’s what she’s planning?”
“We can’t. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. There is no spell that can break a curse cast by a God.”
“Okay, so if all vampires are connected,” Ethan knew the heirs were important, but he was trying to pinpoint the exact reason, “why not find seven vampires that stem from each of the Primordials? Wouldn’t that be easier?”
“It has to be the oldest living vampire heir. They carry with them the source of the magic. When they die, it passes to the next oldest, but if the stone siphons the power, the source is gone.”
Evie leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Can another God break the curse? Like can the God of Light break the God of Darkness’ curse?”
“No. It doesn’t work that way. There must be a balance. It’s why the God of Light could put reins on the vampires—aversion to sunlight, a guilty conscience—but She cannot undo what the others put in place.”
“So the God of Light can’t help the witches?”
Silvaria laughed. “The God of Light? This coven worships the God of Darkness. I thought I made that clear last night. Plus, the night of the celebration and the unholy things that happened. Each member of the coven is connected to the Primordials. When they turned to the God of Darkness, his black magic spread through us like a plague. I am the last of the witches that has not converted, an outcast, because I am the last living relative of Euphenia. When she refused to sacrifice another life to save her own, the God of Darkness renounced her. She should have died that night—the coven believes she did—but the God of Light took pity on her and she survived.”
“She’s still alive?” Samantha asked.
“Yes.” Silvaria’s eyes lit up. “Guinevere needs all the heirs together beca
use the vampire curse is spread between the seven. To siphon the magic, the spell must be whole. Without Euphenia, it won’t work.”
“So we don’t go.” Samantha took Ethan’s hand. “Tell her we changed our minds. And then we get the hell out of here.”
Silvaria jumped from the couch. “You think you’re free—that I’m free—to leave this place? That it was your decision whether she will cast the spell? Samantha and I will go whether we like it or not, but we have the upper hand. We know it won’t work. What we need to figure out is what we’ll do when it doesn’t.”
Ethan knew what they needed to do. “We know Samantha’s stuck here. What about the rest of us?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
Darrien snorted. “Because Guinevere doesn’t strike us as someone who will give up when the spell doesn’t work.”
Silvaria rubbed her eyes. “She’s not.”
“Then we’ll have to find a way to put an end to her plan for good,” Ethan looked to Darrien, “which means we’re going to need some help.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Samantha made her way through the witches’ village at a pace just above sprinting, careful not to draw any unwanted attention. If she ran like the blood pulsing through her veins wanted, people would grow suspicious.
It would be hard enough asking Guinevere permission for the others to leave. It would raise questions; ones she would expect Samantha to answer. Which meant she would have to lie. Between the four of them, she was the worst at being deceitful. Her facial expressions gave her away. But they all agreed, the request had to come from Samantha, as she was the reason they were there.
That led to a crash course in maintaining a poker face, meaning they spent all day drilling Samantha on every question they could think of and making Samantha repeat the answer over and over until she went hoarse.
As she approached Guinevere’s hut, Samantha released a weighted breath, forcing herself to relax. She could do this. Most of her answers would have a truthful foundation; Darrien said that was the key to a good lie.
