by Sean Stone
“But can you convince enough people?” Adam said.
“Well since over half the coven have been my friends for the last ten years I think so,” she replied confidently.
“How do you know so many of them?” Adam asked. Holly had not been part of the coven prior to the curse — she hadn’t actually been alive — and had never actually set foot in town. Toni had explained some of her history to Adam but he wanted to hear it from Holly.
“When the curse struck a big old portion of the coven ran away from Cedarstone and ended up in Horley, where my coven is. My gran’s the dynast there so I was already pretty popular. Anyway, I’m a likeable person so I made friends with them all and when the curse broke and they decided to come back I decided to come too,” she explained. She spoke fast and with enthusiasm, she reminded Adam of a cheesy car saleswoman.
“Why? Why come to Cedarstone?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine why she’d leave a coven where she was in line to be dynast.
“It’s the supernatural capital of England, why the frick not?” she replied loudly. It was a good reason, the same reason Adam had come to Cedarstone, sadly he’d arrived during the curse and had been stripped of his powers. That was all in the past, though.
“So, you’ll help us?” Toni asked. She was perched not he edge of the sofa next to Adam.
“On one condition. The dynast ritual is outdated — even my old fashioned gran says so — one person having so much power over all those sorcerers shouldn’t be allowed so I want you to split it with me. Just as an insurance in case you turn out to be a bloody tyrannical maniac. Somebody needs to be able to stop you. We can keep it a secret so no-one knows, we’ll link to one another before the meet.”
Adam looked at Toni. He wasn’t happy about giving somebody else power over the coven, especially somebody from a different coven altogether; she could be a mole from the Horley coven. Coven wars were pretty rare these days but not completely unheard of.
“I’m not sure about that,” Adam replied.
“Well that’s my offer and I’m not negotiating, take it or leave it,” she said and sat back in her seat, arms crossed.
If Adam left it then he would have to find another way to deal with Genevieve and he might not be able to find one. Holly had said it was just a precaution in case Adam turned out to be a bad guy so there was no reason not to agree to her terms, but there was something in the back of his head telling him no. What if Holly turned out to be worse than Genevieve? What if this whole thing was a ploy to get the coven’s powers. Of course, she’d only have half, Adam would have the other half. Maybe half was all she needed.
“I know you have doubts,” Toni said. She put a hand on his thigh. “But, I’m one of the witches who went to Horley, I’ve known Holly for ten years and I trust her. She won’t betray us, Adam, she hasn’t got a bad bone in her body.”
Adam nodded slowly. “Alright, if Toni trusts you then so do I. I agree to your condition,” he said, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake.
“Can you convince the majority of them by the new moon?” Toni asked.
“Pfft.” She waved a hand at them. “No problem, you set up the meet and I’ll do the rest.”
“Alright then, then we have some ingredients to prepare,” said Adam.
*
James followed Kristen into Wiccan Wares. He hadn’t been into the shop for a long time and back then he was working for the council to control the supernatural; it felt weird being on the other side of the fence. He hadn’t needed the whole 24 hours that Nickolas had given him to make his choice; the answer was obvious. A cure for lycanthropy would solve all James’ problems; once he was human again he would no longer be a danger to his son and they could have a proper father-son relationship. Dean was 23 now. James had missed him turning from a teenager to a man. He’d been locked up during his birthday this year so he’d even missed sending him a birthday card. He wouldn’t miss any more. As soon as he was human he’d leave Cedarstone and never look back. Sure, he’d have to work with Nick and his disciples in the mean time but Nick was right, nothing he had to do as a disciple could ever be worse than the things he’d done as liaison for the council, he’d murdered in cold blood, what could be worse than that? And Kristen said that Nick had never forced any of the other disciples to do anything they didn’t want to do.
Since Kristen had been James’ only contact during his time at number thirteen, Nick had decided that she should train him up. James had not yet been told what training he would actually receive, nor had he been told what his new role actually entailed, but he was sure he’d find out soon enough.
When they entered the shop Alistair was already standing behind the counter. He wasn’t doing anything, just standing there as if that’s what he did all day; just stood and waited for customers. When he saw Kristen his eyes narrowed and he looked at her with distaste.
“I’m surprised to see you in here,” Alistair said. “I made my feelings to Nickolas quite clear.” James had no idea what they were talking about.
“Is that about what he did to your little assistant?” Kristen asked in a mocking tone. “Nick blinded the seer,” she explained to James.
“Really, why?” James asked. He’d met with Katrina a few times and she’d never been anything but lovely, he couldn’t imagine why anybody would want to hurt her.
“Who cares.” Kristen shrugged and continued looking around the store. “We’re just here to look for an item for my new apprentice, is that okay?” she asked Alistair.
“So, you’re a disciple now James? Why the sudden change in loyalties?” Alistair asked.
“Nick has more to offer,” James replied. Alistair was one of the people in town whom James had never enjoyed banding words with, he preferred to keep interactions with the old man short and succinct.
“And what might that be?” Alistair asked inquisitively.
“That doesn’t concern you now, does it?” Kristen interrupted.
“I suppose not. Look to your hearts content and when you find something we’ll discuss a price,” said Alistair and then disappeared through the ugly bead curtain.
“So what am I looking for?” James asked. He picked up a ratty old sock monkey and after one look threw back onto the shelf.
“A device. Something to gather power.”
“What for?” he asked nervously, but he already knew the answer.
“All of Nick’s disciples are warlocks James, that means you have to be one too. The first act of becoming a disciple is the ritual sacrifice,” she explained.
“Ritual sacrifice?” he said with alarm. Maybe Nick was worse than Jonathan.
“You have to sacrifice a sorcerer and take their power for your own. Then we’ll know you’re one of us. The last act of becoming a disciple is when Nick grants you immortality. He won’t do that until he’s certain that you’re loyal to us.”
“Can I be a warlock, I mean I’m a…” he found that he still couldn’t call himself a werewolf, the word felt wrong on his tongue.
“Yes, I think you can. Lucian, one of the disciples you’ll meet at some point, is a vampire and he managed to become a warlock. His powers are weaker than the rest of us so I guess there are some complications, but he’s still a warlock. Your powers might be weaker too but once you’re cured they’ll come out in full force. You never know they might not be weak at all,” she said.
“Okay,” James said quietly. He still wasn’t sure about it but what choice did he have? Become a warlock or become an outcast from everyone and a werewolf for life. “So, what exactly do I need?”
“Any object that can hold power. Most warlocks tend to go for a dagger or an athame, whatever you want to call it. That way they only need the one object to be a conduit and a container. You don’t have to, though, just look around until something catches your eye.”
“A conduit and a container, what do you mean?” he asked, rubbing his head in confusion.
“The power has to flow through something.
So, when you stab them with a knife the power travels through the blade and into whichever object you have chosen to hold the power. You can just hold it in the knife if you want, but not everyone does. It can get a bit annoying having to carry a knife around everywhere. Plus, then you have to make sure you kill them with the knife. If you pick something like a ring, then you can stab them with any old knife and still take their power. Get it?”
“I think so. What object did you pick?” he asked, giving her the once over to see if there were any clues. They weren’t. She had a few rings and a necklace but it might not be any of those.
“A warlock’s device is the literal key to their power. If another can get their hand on it then they can release the warlock’s power forever, so its best to keep it a secret,” she said with a wink.
“Do warlocks keep their devices on them all the time?”
“Most do. Their powers weaken the farther the device is from them. The only warlock I’ve ever met who’s strong enough to leave his device somewhere else is Nick. No-one else has managed it.”
James started to browse the items of the shop in silence; there was so much junk that he could be there for hours looking. He picked up several daggers and looked them over but none of them really called out to him. There was a ring that he quite liked the look of but it turned out to be solid silver and when he picked it up it burnt his fingers. Kristen laughed and told him to keep looking. It seemed like he’d been looking for hours when his eyes finally landed on the bracelet. He knew straight away that it wasn’t a magical bracelet because he’d seen it before. It was a garish thing, a large gold band about 2 inches wide, it had a barbed wire pattern engraved across its golden surface and in the centre the pattern broke and a name was written: Dean. The bracelet had belonged to his son. It had been a birthday gift from his aunt on his mother’s side. James had hated it but Dean had loved it. He’d worn it 24/7 without fail, he thought it made him look tough. He’d lost it in the woods the night James had rescued him from the werewolf that had turned him. James hadn’t seen it since. He reached into the cabinet and picked it up tenderly as if he might break it. He could feel tears stinging his eyes and fought them back, he couldn’t let Kristen see him cry.
“Can I use this; it doesn’t have any magic?” It was the perfect reminder of why he was doing everything; for his son, for them to be reunited.
“It will,” she said simply and marched over to the counter, taking the bracelet on her way. Alistair returned from the back of the store without being called. He had a knack for turning up when he was needed.
“The bracelet, a fine choice,” he said without even looking at it.
“What do you want for it?” Kristen said roughly.
“Hmm, let me see…” The old man looked off into the distance.
“Hang on,” James said. “That already belongs to me, it was my son’s.”
“And now it’s mine,” Alistair replied, his tone threatening.
“James, leave it,” Kristen warned when she saw James about to snatch the bracelet away. “What do you want, old man?”
“Tell Nickolas to come and have a chat with me. Then it’s yours. But until then, it stays with me.” Alistair didn’t move but the bracelet suddenly disappeared. There was no cloud of smoke, or popping noises like James would have expected; it was just gone.
“Alright,” Kristen replied. “I’ll tell him.” Then she turned and led James out of the shop.
James wanted to ask whether Nickolas would actually go to Alistair, but he didn’t want to seem desperate to get Dean’s bracelet back, even though he was. “What now?” he said instead.
“Now, we get your sacrifice,” she said. “We can at least go home with one of the things we came out for.”
“Who is my sacrifice?” he asked, his stomach knotted at the prospect of having to sacrifice somebody for magic. He’d got used to killing for Jonathan after the first few people he’d killed, but this was different, this wasn’t just killing it was sacrificing. It was a whole different deck of cards.
Kristen stopped and pointed at the coffee shop across the road from where they were standing. Sitting inside by the window enjoying an oversized cup of something was a young woman with frizzy brown hair and a round freckled face. James had never seen her before in his life, that would make it easier to kill her at least.
“She is,” Kristen said. “Let’s go get her.”
*
CHAPTER SEVEN
The elders sat around the table waiting for Richie to begin. Victor sat to Richie’s right, Isabella to his left and, Charles was sat next to Isabella. The chair to Victor’s right remained vacant; Richie was yet to choose a fifth elder. Richie was staring at the doors as if he were expecting somebody to arrive at any moment, but Victor could see in his eyes that that was not the case, Richie was deep in thought and probably wasn’t even aware he was looking at the doors. He’d been distant ever since Nickolas had visited last night, Victor had never seen him so shaken.
“The Aramaya family?” Isabella prompted him, impatient as ever.
Richie turned to look at her, his eyes focusing as he returned to the room. “Yes, of course, the Aramaya family,” he said and clapped his hands together, but the gesture lacked enthusiasm. Victor knew all about the Aramaya family and the myths surrounding them, Richie had confided the truth in him centuries ago. Victor had never passed on the information Richie had shared with him, not even to his own daughter.
“If you are going to share the story perhaps it would be best to start at the very beginning?” Victor suggested, knowing how convoluted the story was.
“Why don’t you tell it, Vic, you’re more of a history buff than I am anyway,” Richie said.
“These aren’t tales of history so much as your own experiences, they would be best coming from you,” said Victor.
“I want you to tell it. Don’t worry, I’ll correct you if you get anything wrong,” Richie said and winked. Victor ignored the hostility in his tone and turned to Isabella and Charles.
“Very well. What do you know about Egyptian mythology?” he asked them.
“Just a few of the old stories,” Isabella said and shrugged. “Is the Aramaya family from ancient Egypt?”
“It’s not an Egyptian name, Aramaya, is it?” Charles said, looking from Victor to Richie. Victor looked to Richie for the answer.
Richie shrugged. “I’m not sure where they’re from, but somewhere along the way they ended up in Egypt.”
“The beginning of this story is myth, legend, it may or may not be true,” Victor said. “According to the tales, in the beginning, there were only three races on the earth; humans, ancients and the jinn.”
“As in live in a lamp and grants three wishes?” Charles asked, incredulous.
“I think that part is fiction,” Victor replied but he wasn’t certain, he still doubted their existence entirely let alone the minute details of said existence. “Anyway, it is said that most of the races alive today came in some way from those three. The ancients lived and ruled in Egypt and somewhere along the way they were mistaken for gods.”
“That much is definitely true,” Richie cut in.
“So, Ra, Anubis, Osiris and whatnot are all real?” Isabella asked.
Victor nodded and continued. “As with all races there are hierarchies and the ancients had a royal family of which Osiris was the head, the king of Egypt. I’m sure you’ve both heard of Osiris. The Cult of Osiris was a group of guardians whose task was to protect the king. Cain Aramaya was the Captain of the guards.”
“Captain Cain?” Isabella said and sniggered. Victor ignored her childishness.
“According to the story Osiris made them vampires, the first vampires to walk the earth. We know for a fact they are definitely vampires, but whether they are the first vampires is still in dispute.”
“They’re the oldest I’ve met,” Richie chimed.
“Now, Osiris had a bitter rivalry with his brother Set for whatever reason, w
e could choose to accept the stories in the mythology books or we could not. Set overcame the Cult of Osiris and long story short cut his brother into 14 pieces and ordered them to be scattered across the earth. From that moment on the Cult have been searching for the pieces so that they can restore their king to life.”
“Is that possible?” Charles asked. Richie shrugged.
“What the fuck has that go to do with Richie?” Isabella demanded.
“I’m getting to that,” Victor snapped. He abhorred the sound of that vulgar word on his daughter’s tongue; it was no way for a lady to speak. “In Richie’s past, he encountered Ramsay, one of Cain’s children. Ramsay took Richie home to meet his family, Cain and Ramsay’s siblings, Michael and… who was the daughter?”
“Lydia,” said Richie.
“Yes, Lydia. They sired Richie and adopted him into their Cult, perhaps you should take the story now?” Victor suggested.
Richie sat up in his chair and leaned forwards. “Basically, Cain is a very controlling man and he does not like anybody to have fun. The guy was a serious drain on emotions. I wanted to leave but that’s forbidden, nobody can leave the Cult once they’ve been sworn in, you only leave by death. So I created a diversion. The Cult had already collected seven of the pieces of Osiris. I used mind manipulation to get somebody to destroy one of the pieces, and whilst they were distracted I faked my own death and escaped.”
“How?” Isabella asked, leaning closer to Richie, and not so that she could hear him better. Victor shifted uncomfortably, he didn’t much care for seeing his daughter fawn over his best friend.
“I found somebody who looked a bit like me, turn him into a vampire, staked him and then burned the body so they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” Richie said proudly. “Worked wonders until Nickolas told them I was alive and well.”
“So they’re coming to take you back?” Isabella asked.
“Not exactly. They figured out that I told that person to destroy the Osiris piece. I betrayed the Cult and committed treason and the penalty for that is death.”
