by Nikki Landis
The pulse of power that left her presence and engulfed mine caused ripples in the air that shimmered like a mirage. My sharp intake of breath drew the attention of the others as I lifted off the ground by several feet. A light hum of energy danced along my skin as I felt every scratch, every ache and pain, every stressed muscle, and each injury repaired in a matter of seconds. My skin tingled with an itch I couldn't scratch until it faded completely.
I was fully recovered and healed. As good as new.
Gypsy’s gasp next to my side proved she’d also been healed.
We were both lowered back to the ground gently but jumped up at the same time as soon as we were able. I ran to Gypsy, embracing my cousin with relief. I hugged Aunt Gwen next before I turned to my ancestors and dropped to one knee.
“Mother, thank you. Ancestors, I accept your blessing and offer my gratitude. May I always honor you. Blessed be.”
“Blessed be,” my mother echoed. “The ancestors are honored and pleased with your offerings this night. We issue prosperity and abundance this festive season and extend our wish for good health. We offer the protection of the Howe legacy and give an extra gift this first night of Samhain.”
Gypsy also dropped to one knee as my mother approached.
White candles with tall blue flames lit up the night with an eerie but familiar warmth. The flames had switched their color when we weren’t watching. My aunt placed hers on the ground as it joined the others. The candles moved and shifted into four points that surrounded us like a box, one slightly above as it pointed toward my mother. A barrier of added protection. Blue and violet flames jumped from their wicks and singed along the ground until the fire burned into the ground and the box was complete, then resumed their silent and unmoving glow atop the long, slim tapers.
Aunt Gwen and Willow’s arms were extended wide, ready to accept the ancestors and their blessing. Willow was a Parker and a Scott, but she was an original Salem witch. One of the thirteen, as are we. Suffering and persecution were shared by all of our families. During Samhain, each of the original lines extended their blessings and power among the thirteen. This, in turn, strengthened the bond among the witches and increased our energies. We were each fulfilled by the giving and sharing of all.
A surge of power erupted from my mother’s fingertips as the ancestors converged on us, their bodies moving as one as each opened their palms. Bright light exited through their transparent skin and darted forward, shooting into our chests. The four of us – Aunt Gwen, Willow, Gypsy, and me – fell flat on our backs as the light held us hostage. The power and energy were strong and overloaded my capacity to stay coherent. I was blinded but in awe.
Right before I passed out, I heard my mother’s voice, strong and confident. “The gift of Third Sight. Go with our love. Blessed be.”
Chapter 4
October 2nd –
“You look lonely,” Damian observed as he sat next to me on the swings.
Late afternoon sunshine filtered down from above as I squinted, looking into his sparkling emerald gaze. I spent the morning baking with Aunt Gwen and Gypsy but slipped away about a half hour ago for some fresh air and a few minutes alone. I returned often to the playground at the end of our block, a favorite from childhood. Sometimes I was restless. My Aunt Gwen often said I was an old soul filled with potent blood and a hunger for mischief. I couldn’t deny it was true.
My mother was the same way. She was always caught up in something crazy.
“I’m not lonely,” I answered with a small smile. “I like my solitude at times.”
He seemed to consider my words for a moment and then pushed off lightly with his feet, swinging slowly as I was doing. “When you reach several hundreds of years in age, you may think differently.”
I never thought of it like that. Immortals live forever. I didn’t think I’d want immortality if I had to endure it alone and watch everyone that I loved die, over and over again. “You’re right. I don’t want to live forever.” With witches, it was different. We could commune with our ancestors but that was only among the thirteen to my knowledge. A unique gift blessed among the original families. Many witches sought their ancestors, but they didn’t have the same ability to appear and converse.
The Mystic Hallows witches were special.
Someday, when I died and my physical body returned to the earth, I would be happy to join my ancestors and guide the next generations of Howe women. Maybe men. Our line hadn’t produced a male heir in centuries. Personally, I think we were cursed but Aunt Gwen hadn’t confirmed or denied that theory.
Damian smirked at my statement, his vibrant green eyes glowing with humor. “Some of us didn’t have a choice about immortality.” For a few minutes, the two of us were swinging side by side in silence before he continued, “Lycan and witches pass their ability down genetically. Ghouls and many other supernatural creatures do also. With Lycan and ghouls, either beast can also be made, but vampires . . .” he paused and stopped the swing, his expression sad, “we’re always created.”
“Never born?” I asked to clarify.
He shook his head with a wistful smile. “No, despite the sparkly vampire stories that say otherwise.” A dark shadow passed across his features before he glanced into my eyes. “Doesn’t matter if you want this life or not, it’s chosen for you.”
Was he making some sort of point? “Are you saying you don’t want to be immortal?”
He smirked. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what I have become in many ways but . . . I’m restricted in ways I never expected.”
Restricted? He was a vampire. What could he possibly not be able to do? “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Damian.”
“I’m unable to pursue certain things I desire. The three of us are limited.”
Three? “You and who else?” Gabriel and Ryder?
“Gabe and Ryder . . . and one other.”
This was a strange conversation. I never expected Damian to open up and become so serious. He wasn’t making a lot of sense.
“Everything has a price.”
I was swinging high when I began to slow down. Once I stopped, I reached out and placed my hand over his pale forearm. “You know, you’re much different than I imagined. Sensitive vamp and all that.” My default had always been to resort to humor. It was how I coped. Oh, and sarcasm. I was fluent in that, too. I tapped my finger against my lip for a moment and then smiled. “I thought all you bloodsuckers just wanted to suck, fuck, and kill.”
Damian chuckled warmly at my words, his laugh warming me in ways that were new but not unpleasant. “True, I guess the sensitivity comes from humbling roots.” He leaned down and whispered the next part in my ear. “But the sucking and fucking . . . that’s the best part.”
His softly spoken words shimmered and pulsed with sweet seduction and slid across my skin with promise. An involuntary shiver ghosted down my spine as I exhaled. The attraction between us was undeniable but I wasn’t that easy. Besides, the gleam in his eye hinted he wanted to draw this out and pursue his game of seduction. I considered the thought of some fun with him, but I had to deal with Samhain first.
And the witch who was after Gypsy and me.
Damian reluctantly stood and held out his hand, lifting an eyebrow in silent question. He was wondering if I trusted him. For a vampire, his expressions were extremely easy to read.
“I know, it’s close to sunset.” Placing my hand in his much larger and paler one, I let Damian tuck it under his arm as we headed back to Howe Manor. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, pet. I’m all yours.”
I didn’t pick up the obvious hint he dropped. Instead, I asked the question that was on my mind for the last twenty-four hours. “Why are you able to walk outside during daylight? Aren’t you supposed to fry up in a crisp?”
He snorted at my description and shook his head. “Want rid of me so soon, little Raven?”
We paused outside the wrought iron gates that bordered my house. �
��You know that’s not what I meant. Stop trying to distract me.”
“Perhaps most vampires do.” Damian shrugged as he leaned against the gate. “There’s an easy explanation but I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
Now I was irritated. “Why?”
“It’s not my place.”
“That’s a stupid excuse. Besides, if you didn’t want me to know all you had to do was make sure I never saw you in the daylight.”
He tapped the end of my nose with a long, pale finger. “Right you are, pet.” Without a word he turned and walked away, whistling as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
Damn vampire.
Gypsy was in the kitchen with Gabriel when I entered. The Lycan was covered in flour and helping her mold cookies into little half-moon shapes. No lie. I couldn’t make this shit up. The werewolf was baking.
This was too good an opportunity to pass.
I snapped a few pics with my phone, certain this was excellent blackmail material for the future. Gabriel happened to glance up as I took the last one, forever immortalized with white powder on his face and clothes, shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a light dusting of flour in his dark shoulder-length hair. I hated to admit it, but he was hot. Like five alarm fire and I need a hose down hot.
You know, fire department level hot.
Shit.
I didn’t want to think of him like that. He was a liar, even if the ancestors had given him a purpose. And he dated my mother.
“Hey, Cas,” he greeted me, all smiles like we were best friends.
“Hey babe,” Gyps said, popping a cookie sheet into the oven and setting the timer. “That’s the last batch. I’ll be ready to leave in thirty minutes.”
I couldn’t deal with the chummy look they shared or the knowing smile that lingered on Gabriel’s face. “I’m taking a shower. Be ready to go when I come back down, Gyps.”
Gabriel’s expression dimmed a little when I ignored him, but I didn’t care. He could pretend to be hurt or disappointed all he wanted. I wasn’t about to be some replacement for my mother. Or any other woman. And anyway, I didn’t date douchebag liars with an agenda.
Even if they were hunky Lycan with ripped abs and sensual smiles.
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla followed me upstairs as I hopped in the shower. Under the warm spray, I relaxed. The tension eased in my upper back and shoulders. I didn’t realize how uptight I was until I stepped into the steamy water. It wasn’t just Gabriel. Damian’s refusal to answer some of my questions was also frustrating. Add in the recent altercations with the dark witch and my tension made sense.
Why were these immortals suddenly in Mystic Hallows? Did it have something to do with Samhain? I still wasn’t seeing the big picture.
“Cassie?” Gabriel was sitting on the edge of my bed when I exited the bathroom. His eyes roamed over every curve of my body and lingered on the top of the plush white towel tucked in at my breasts.
Startled, he caught me off guard. “Gabriel? What are you doing in here?”
He opened his mouth to say something but lifted his nose in the air instead. “What’s that awful smell?”
Huh?
Completely surprised, I watched Gabriel as he jumped up and dropped to the ground, his nose pressed close to the carpet. “Stay put, Cas.” He moved slowly forward until he was at the foot of my bed. A low rumble filled the air before he let out an enormous growl that rattled my windows. The low vibrations caused the fine hairs on my skin to raise. “Don’t leave this room!”
I jumped slightly in response to his curt words and backed up against the far wall. “Gabriel?”
He slipped under my bed and disappeared partially. His fine ass was molded in his jeans while half his body was visible. Stop it, I scolded myself. Don’t stare at the annoying wolf’s cute butt. I blinked in surprise and forced my thoughts to remain indifferent.
What the hell was he doing? I heard Gabriel mutter a curse.
“A hex bag,” he warned, his voice muffled. “Don’t move.”
A hex bag? Voodoo? How?
Gabriel slid out from under the bed and held up the little string tied hemp bag with his shirt, his bare skin kept from coming in contact with the bag or its contents. The man was a Houdini. He somehow managed to take off his shirt while he was under the bed, wrapped it around his hand, and backed out without touching anything.
He stood in front of me triumphantly, holding the hex bag like he brought me a fresh kill for my approval. Lycan. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Cassandra, sweetheart, you’re in danger.”
Well, no shit. I was familiar with Voodoo. I didn’t practice it, but witches were always schooled in all forms of magic – both light and dark. It was part of our training and heritage. Much like a family grimoire, although no one had used those for nearly a century. My magic was learned, taught and passed down from generation to generation. The Howe family were powerful witches with a specialty in divination. Unlike some who specialized in charms or petty incantations, we memorized our spells and chants and spoke them aloud. It was crucial to survival and protecting the veil. Witches kept the balance.
In Mystic Hallows, it was our sole purpose, but each of the thirteen had a specialty in their coven.
“I know.”
“We need to talk,” Gabriel squared his shoulders and replied severely as if I wasn’t taking this Voodoo thing seriously.
“Yeah, we do,” I agreed. I wasn’t sure I had much to say but I was curious about several things, the least of which was why he arrived here in the first place. “Why are you really here? And don’t give me some spiel about family connections and visiting Gwen. You didn’t know she was home the day we met.”
He sighed softly. “Look, I know we need to talk about that, but everything has changed now. This hex bag has altered our approach. We can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”
We? Who the fuck was ‘we’? “Care to elaborate on this mysterious ‘we’?” The same ‘we’ that Damian mentioned?
He knew he was pissing me off, but Gabriel shook his head. “I can’t, Cas. We’re bound by different rules. It’s complicated, sweetness.” The look on his face was sincere but I was done with secrets.
“Then leave. I’m not –”
He was in front of me so fast I shrunk back against the wall. “Listen, babe, shit just got a lot worse and more complicated. We’re dealing with a vicious Voodoo witch who can take you and Gypsy down. Maybe your whole lineage. That’s serious enough for you to –”
I was completely shocked when he stopped speaking and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t the heated or fierce kiss I expected, and I was floored. The briefest hint of passion danced on the edge, but he kept it reined in, letting a small burst of burning embers sear my skin. In that one simple kiss, so light and soft, an explosion of desire erupted between us. When our eyes met, I could sense his fierce fight for control over his body. Gabriel oozed sensuality and raw need, and I wished in that moment we could both act on our desires.
But that couldn’t happen.
I didn’t trust him. The ancestors blessed Gabriel, but something wasn’t adding up.
He kept his arms from touching me this entire time and I knew it was because he didn’t want that hex bag or any Voodoo curse to come near me. He was too close as it was.
Gabriel moved in until we were chest to chest, only the towel separating our flesh, the exact opposite of what he should be doing, and lowered his head to my neck. Agonizingly slow, with an aching determination, he dropped his nose to my throat and inhaled, sweeping down to my collarbone and across my bare shoulder, and then upward to my other ear. The scruff on his face brushed against my cheek before Gabriel placed an inch of space between us. He was lightly panting. Like a dog who sensed a bitch in heat.
Fuck me. That was the hottest thing I had ever experienced.
“Spice. Power. Blinding energy. Magic. Female. Desire.” A low growl vibrated in his throat. He leaned in
and inhaled again. The musky scent that was a cross between animal and man engulfed my senses. “A volatile cocktail that makes my cock twitch and my brain unable to focus.”
Holy shit.
Did he really just admit that?
“Gabriel,” I moaned, unable to stop my response.
He looked triumphant, torn between acting on his desire and walking away. “You’ll understand soon, sweetheart,” he promised and before I could react, Gabriel was gone.
Seriously. He just walked out with the hex bag and didn’t say another word. Did he use seduction to distract me in order to leave with that Voodoo charm? What the hell?
He was the devil incarnate.
I was so pissed.
Maybe I was more frustrated that he walked away without an explanation but still. I was ready to throw a fit like a five-year-old. Damn him. There was no time to follow. I had to get ready and meet Gypsy so we could go out for the second night of Samhain. I promised her we would put last night behind us. With the extra blessing and protection spells from my ancestors, we should be safe.
The only thing that was corrupting or harming me tonight was alcohol.
Chapter 5
The party was well underway when Gypsy and I arrived at a sorority house on University Row. She was all dolled up in a tightly fitted black dress tonight, in addition to her painted face and big brightly colored roses in her hair. I decided to wear a dress too but mine was sleeveless and not as clingy. Fishnet tights and knee-high boots with heels completed my look. The best part was always my painted face and neck. I’d wear this makeup year-round if I could.
