Shadows of A Vampire

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Shadows of A Vampire Page 12

by Guida, ML


  She retrieved her athame, a bowl, and her wand and a vial containing herbs that Grand-mère had personally charged by casting spells under a full moon. The combined herbs had proved powerful against dark magic but needed to be out in the open to work, not confined in her cabin. She only hoped they would be strong enough to kill the scarab. She rushed out of her makeshift cabin, careful not to disturb any sleeping pirates and headed topside.

  Starboard lanterns glowed in the night, shining down onto the sea. The wind whipped her night gown around her body, and she shivered. She crept over to the side, not wanting anyone to question her. There was no time to ask if she could perform a spell. Le capitaine would not like her conjuring a spell without his knowledge, since he thought she was one step above the devil.

  The night watch was busy at the bow, and she headed to the stern, sneaking behind the helmsmen and hoping she could avoid prying eyes. She blew out the lantern hanging on the stern, not needing light to do the spell due to the waning moon. She used the athame to trace a five-pointed star on the deck. She poured half of the vial of herbs into the bowl, then hoping if seen, the watch would think she was a man, she peeled out of her nightgown. Lark’s soul was in jeopardy, and stripping naked enhanced the magic.

  She raised the bowl in offering. “Isis, Mother Goddess, I humbly ask for your help for my brother, Lark. Call forth your healing medicine and strengthen him. Keep him from turning to the dark side.”

  The wind swirled at her bare feet and rose up her body until it blew into the bowl. The herbs twirled out of the bowl and glowed in the dark, changing into colors of purple, yellow, black, and red. They swooshed around, taking on a human form. The image of the Goddess stared at Mariah with bright yellow eyes.

  Mariah bowed her head. “Isis, I ask for your help. Take the rest of this vial to Lark.”

  Isis took the vial and slightly bent her head. “I shall find him.” Her form broke apart and spun into the air, flying through the dark sky like sea mist.

  “Please save him.” Mariah’s voice was tiny and desperate.

  She placed the bowl onto the deck and grabbed her gown. She slipped it over her head and wiggled into it.

  “Why are you naked?”

  Mariah froze. William. Merde! She twirled around, straightening the gown.

  William stood in the shadow of the bulkhead. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was displeased. How long had he been standing there?

  “I was performing a spell.”

  “You always take your clothes off when you do a spell?”

  Heat spiked her cheeks. “Being naked purifies the spell.”

  “Who was the woman? Kane won’t be pleased that you are bringing people aboard his ship without his knowledge.”

  “’Twas not a woman. The potion took the form of Isis, the mother of all Goddesses. One of her powers is medicine and healing. Something that Lark desperately needs. If you will excuse me—”

  He blocked her way and crowded her against the edge. “So your spells or potions can conjure up magical creatures or humans?”

  Her heart pounding, she glanced over the rail at the churning water below. Was he planning to push her over?

  “I don’t conjure magical creatures.” She pressed her hands against his chest to skirt away, but he didn’t budge. “The spell took the form into the image of the Goddess herself and answered me. Magic sometimes takes human forms.”

  He circled his arm around her waist, pinning her to him. “What was in the vial?”

  She struggled to push away. He was too close, and his masculine scent cast its own spell over her. An urge to kiss him seized her.

  Stop. Keep your wits.

  “Charged herbs will strengthen Lark and keep him from turning dark.”

  “What the hell are your charged herbs?”

  “Herbs that have been enchanted.”

  His thumb brushed over her wet cheek. “You’ve been crying.”

  “Lark…I saw him…in a dream. He came to me.” She stared up at William and wished she could see his face. “He was…he waws…strapped to a wheel.” Her voice faded, and the sobs burst through, her shoulders quaking.

  He tightened his arms around her, holding her closer and rubbing her back. “I’m sorry.”

  She laid her head on his chest, burying her face into his shirt. The steady rhythm of his thumping heart calmed her fear.

  “These herbs will help him?”

  She swallowed and wiped away her tears. “Oui.”

  “What are they?”

  He pushed her windblown hair behind her ears.

  “Dittany of Crete, pennyroyal,” she said.

  He leaned closer, his mouth brushed against her neck. “And,” he murmured.

  Her concentration fled. “Um, pennyroyal…oui….pennyroyal.” Her trembling voice faded.

  “You said that.” He moved his mouth down her throat.

  “Merci,” she panted. “Solomon’s Seal, periwinkle and…” His lips captured hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, making her forget the last herb. She glided her hands up his brawny chest and gripped his strong shoulders. All she could think about was kissing him, tasting him, losing herself in his embrace.

  The kiss deepened. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushed her nipple, and she groaned. He squeezed the sensitive bud. Her legs weakened. She gripped him tighter, fearful she would fall backward into the ocean. A strong arm held her tight, and her foolishness lessened. She knew her dragon would not let her fall.

  “William.” A harsh low male voice stole her breath.

  Mariah stiffened. Le capitaine. Caught in a compromising position in her night gown, a clinging night gown. She was kissing William practically naked and worse, she was enjoying it, indulging in it, wanting more. What was she thinking?

  “William.” Le capitaine’s voice was louder and insistent.

  William lifted his head, and she could make out the shape of his eyes. Was it her imagination or had she glimpsed a flame in those eyes? Was it the dragon?

  “What, Kane?” he growled.

  “I was in a sound sleep with Hannah when Amadi knocked on my door. I’d like to ask the lass what evil witch she summoned to my ship.”

  William glanced down at the front of her night shift and scowled. “Bloody hell.” He pulled off his shirt and handed it to Mariah. “Cover yourself. Now.” He blocked Kane’s view, his broad back shielding her.

  She draped the shirt over her gown. Heat swarmed over her cheeks. She was in a scandalous way. “Kane.” Hannah strolled over and frowned at Kane. “What are you doing?”

  Hannah wouldn’t allow le capitaine or anyone else condemn Mariah. Mariah stopped trembling and straightened William’s shirt.

  Kane frowned. “I told you to stay below deck.”

  Hannah pulled on her arm. “Let go of me. You don’t even know if there’s any danger.”

  “Neither do you. I’m ordering you to go below.”

  Mariah stepped around William and met Kane’s steely gaze. “There is no danger, Capitaine. ’Tis only a spell. Sometimes my magic takes human form, but ’tis not real, not like you and me.”

  Hannah broke free of Kane’s clasp. “I’m not in danger, Kane. I think I’ve proven once or twice that I’m capable of defending myself.”

  Kane mumbled underneath his breath and moved around Hannah. “Is there anything else coming on board my ship?” His voice wary, he pulled his pistol out of his belt and peered over the side of the ship. He cocked his pistol as if expecting sea creatures to crawl up the port side.

  Mariah edged closer to William, and he wrapped his arm around her.

  Reassurance filled her, and she raised her head, meeting le capitaine’s accusatory glare. “No. Grand-mère says I do this because I look at the spells differently and give them human traits. The spell is supposed to aid my brother.”

  Kane leaned against the railing and folded his arms across his chest. “How? Can this spell break the yari?”

  Mariah s
hook her head. “Je suis désolé, non. The spell will help Lark fight the darkness and the pain that threatens to consume him. Natasa put a scarab inside him.”

  Kane ran his hand over the butt of his revolver. “And?”

  “The scarab is attacking Lark’s white magic. His eyes…” Her voice cracked.

  Kane scowled. “What about them?”

  “They are turning darker.”

  William stiffened next to her and dropped his arm. Her back went cold where his arm had been.

  Hannah lifted an eyebrow. “Turning?”

  Ignoring the men, Mariah faced Hannah. “Oui, when they are black, he will be lost to us forever.”

  “So, he’s a warlock?” William’s condemning voice struck pure fear in her.

  She lifted her chin. “No. Not yet. Since we were siblings, we can appear in each other’s dreams.” Mariah said, trying to control her shaky voice. “But not if he were a warlock.”

  Curiosity filled Hannah’s eyes. “You saw him?”

  Mariah shuddered. “I saw him strapped to a breaking wheel.”

  Kane’s face drained. “Bloody hell.” A tremor rattled his voice.

  Hannah clasped Mariah’s hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Mariah.”

  “Merci.” The small gesture gave Mariah strength. Hannah was becoming more than an ally. She was becoming a friend. A friend who knew what ’twas like to be distrusted because of her magic.

  Kane’s cheek twitched. “What color are Lark’s eyes?”

  “Gray.”

  William gripped her shoulder and turned her around. “How much time?”

  “With the herbs, possibly two weeks. I can’t promise the spell will reach him in time.”

  “And if it does not?” Kane’s low voice sent chills down her back.

  Mariah slumped. “Less than a week. Once a male witch starts to turn to the dark side, the metamorphosis hastens.”

  Kane gazed out onto the horizon. “Meaning your brother is turning into a warlock destined to destroy my ship.”

  Mariah opened her mouth but shut it. Her throat thickened and her argument died on her frozen lips.

  * * *

  William gestured to the sea. “’Tis a grand ocean. I doubt your spell will even find the Fiery Damsel in time. We must be prepared for the worst.”

  Mariah bristled. Could he not have even the smallest faith in her? ’Twas a constant uphill battle with him. Why was she attracted to a man who obviously scorned her magic? Why could not she be attracted to a man who had faith in her? Like Ronan.

  “My spells are potent.” At least, she hoped they were. “But there is a problem.”

  Kane took a menacing step toward her. “What problem?”

  Mariah refused to cower. “Once the spell reaches Lark, Natasa will sense its presence. She will retaliate.”

  “And when were you planning to share this?” Kane glowered and gripped her arms tight. Death flared in his eyes.

  Fear skittered down her spine. “No, I…”

  “When the Damsel appeared out of the shadows to sink my ship? I don’t like surprises.” His angry voice made her tremble.

  “Kane,” William warned. “Release her. Now.”

  Surprised that he did, Mariah rubbed her throbbing arms. “We do not have many choices, Capitaine. Will you trust me, oui?”

  “Not if you’re keeping the truth from us.” Kane reached for her again.

  William blocked his hand and shook his head.

  Kane glared at William. He turned to Mariah. “Don’t lie to me again.” He pulled out a dagger and aimed it at Mariah’s thumping heart. “Or keep a secret from me. Am I clear?”

  Mariah’s voice stuck in her throat. She managed to nod. Terror seeped into her soul. Why had she come on this dreadful voyage? In Tortuga, the Feys’ were welcomed and had honor. Aboard the Phoenix, her every move was questioned and regarded with suspicion and malice.

  William’s eyes turned flinty. “Kane put the dagger away.”

  “She’s endangering my crew.”

  “I said put it away.” William’s low voice promised violence.

  Mariah couldn’t breathe.

  The tension between the brothers sizzled and cracked in the air.

  A vein throbbed on Kane’s cheek. “Are you questioning my command?”

  William knocked the dagger out of Kane’s hand. “When it comes to her, I am.”

  “You’re pushing me too far, little brother.” He glanced between Mariah and William. “She’s turning you against me.”

  Kane’s steely voice voice froze Mariah’s heart.

  William rolled his eyes. “No, she isn’t.”

  “I’d never turn him against you, Capitaine.” The soft words tumbled out of Mariah’s mouth.

  Kane glared. “I don’t believe you. William never trusts magic and now he’s defending you. ’Tis madness.” He motioned with hand. “Amadi?”

  Amadi stepped out of the shadows.

  His dark scowl and looming presence sent Mariah’s heart beating so hard that she thought it would burst from her chest. She shrank behind William.

  “Aye, Cap’n.” Amadi folded his arms over his chest.

  “Lock her in the brig.” Kane’s cruel voice sent chills crawling up her spine.

  “Kane, you’re being unreasonable.” At least Hannah’s sharp voice made Kane wince.

  “Don’t argue with me on this, Hannah. She’s bewitched my brother.”

  She pulled on his arm. “No, your arrogance is clouding your judgment.”

  Amadi reached for Mariah.

  William shoved him hard. “Stay away from her.”

  Kane flicked his hand. “Take them both to the brig.”

  Hannah slapped Kane’s arm.“Will you stop?”

  “You’ll not question my command, lass.” He grabbed Hannah’s hand and dragged her away.

  “Release me!” Hannah slapped his arm and dug her heels onto the deck, but her attempts to escape were useless.

  A lump nestled in Mariah’s throat like a clump of flour, refusing to melt away. She couldn’t swallow or scream as men approached them. An anchor of fear lodged in her heart, dragging it down to the depths of the dark sea. Only William stood between her and the pirates, weapons drawn, now surrounding them.

  * * *

  Lark woke with a start. His raw wrists and ankles throbbed from the rack’s manacles, reminding him he was in hell. He had summoned Mariah in his dream, but he did not know if she could help him. Her look of horror tore him apart. She had been so sheltered, and to see the terrors of the world ripping away her innocence drenched him with sorrow. But maybe she needed to know what lay ahead—a monster and an evil bitch.

  His muscles screamed, and he had difficulty breathing. He shivered and winced, the slightest twinge sending waves of anguish through him.

  A flicker of movement caught his eye in the corner. He blinked? Was that smoke? Aromatic scents dampened the mildew odor. Wetness brushed over his body, salt stung his wounds, and he cringed, clamping his mouth tight to keep from howling with pain.

  Rather than smoke, a mist of water twirled beside the breaking wheel, taking the form of an Egyptian woman with violet eyes. Isis. His sister’s eyes. The form dissipated into flakes of herbs.

  “Mariah,” he whispered. He wanted to weep, missing his sister.

  He opened his mouth, and the herbs gently descended onto his tongue and melted. Mint cooled his parched throat while other sweet herbs soothed his frothing gut, and his hunger faded. Warmth spread through him. And hope. For the first time since Natasa’s magical scarab had burrowed inside him, the pain lessened. Despite the agony pulsating in his joints and muscles, the herbs gave him strength to fight Natasa, to not give into hate.

  Beneath his skin, the scarab moved fast and erratic. It scurried around as the power of the white magic chased it.

  Footsteps clipped down the stairwell. Natasa. Her evil smile faded upon entering the brig. “What’s that foul smell?” Her eyes widened. “Wait
. What happened to you?” She held up her hand. “Stop, in the name of Maketabori.”

  A red ray shot out of her hand and flew across the brig toward Lark. It slammed into his lips, tiny electrical shocks stinging him, and it tried to force his mouth open. He concentrated on the mint and sweetness dissolving in his mouth and ignored the pain, clamping his jaw tight. The stinging red smoke tried to fly up his nose, but he exhaled. A white flash burst out of his nostrils, wrapping around the red smoke, consuming it.

  He took a quivering breath to push back his anger.

  “No!” Natasa raced to Lark and clutched his mangled shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh.

  She blew onto his face, and her wretched breath slipped into his nose, burning his lungs and simmering acid in his gut. “Give into your hate.”

  He focused on the lavender comforting his mouth. It spread reassurance, love, and forgiveness squashing the bubbling hate. He could gaze at Natasa without the urge to rip out her heart.

  She sniffed like a blood hound. “Damn it! Dittany of Crete and pennyroyal.” She slapped him hard across the face, and pain exploded on his cheek. “Who gave this to you?”

  The scarab raced around in Lark’s stomach, its spiky feet pulling on his gut. It ran up his throat, and he gagged.

  She pinched his cheeks. “What’s wrong with you?”

  He opened his mouth. The scarab leaped out smacked Natasa in the middle of her forehead.

  She screamed and swiped the scarab off her. It landed on the filthy, stained floor and raced around in circles. With one squeal, it flipped over and stopped moving. The beetle turned white, and one by one, the legs fell off.

  “You’ve killed my pet.”

  She grabbed his hair and sniffed again. “Pennyroyal, Solomon’s Seal.” Her brow wrinkled. “I can’t detect the other two.” She glared. “What are the other two substances, boy?”

  Mariah’s herbs surged through him, tingles rushing over his body, numbing the pain. His joints mended back into his sockets.

  “Tell me.”

  He glared, refusing to answer.

  “No matter.” She released him. “The spell, ’twas not cast far from here. ’Tis too strong to come from Tortuga. Your sister must be on board a ship. The Soaring Phoenix perhaps?”

 

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