Immortal Hexes

by Hutchins, Amelia

  “She swore she gave no vow or oath to them or her lover.” Roger looked troubled and his eyes continued to bug out as he spoke, like he was choking on something and couldn’t get it out.

  “Still, we will hear her story and know what happened to his family as is his right as King. I must remind you, Roger, Conner helped write the covenant that we now follow. He also holds her in his possession and has agreed to this tribune to decide her fate even though he didn’t have to allow it by right of possession. Should you wish to charge her for treason, do it on your own time,” Arthur hissed, smirking at me before winking.

  “She will stand trial here, before the lover she chose over her dying mother,” Selena growled, shocking me.

  I eyed her with a look of disbelief as her dull eyes stared through me. Her aura was black as well, turning darker than the shadows that filled her eyes. I swallowed hard, fighting against nausea that swirled through me. Again, Laura touched my shoulder, bringing me back to the present and away from the nightmares that clawed from the depths in which I’d banished them.

  Luca approached me slowly, his hand lifted, offering a concoction that was held in an amazonite flask. He stretched his hand as he spoke low, clear, and confidently. “In this flask is a truth serum, from this point until the end of your trial, you will only be able to speak the truth, Avery.”

  I stared at his outstretched hand, knowing that once I took it, Conner would know everything. He’d be able to ask me anything, and I’d be unable to lie to withhold the horrid details of what had happened to me. I swung my gaze to him, watching as his eyes captured mine and then lowered, unable to hold it.

  “I understand,” I whispered thickly.

  I knew once he learned of my past, he would never look at me in the same way. Once he saw the truth of what I’d endured, he’d never want me as he had before I’d been ruined. I took the flask and tipped it back, praying it wasn’t instant. Laura slipped her hand into mine, giving me her strength as the spell burned through me. My mind cleared as it settled, slipping through my mind to my tongue, and then wrapping around my heart. I looked away from Conner, and back to Luca, who frowned as lights burst behind my eyes.

  “She’s ready to be questioned, my King,” he announced, and yet there was no resentment in his tone, only worry for what they would find in my story. Conner would lose what respect he’d known for his father and brothers, and worse, he’d hate me by the end of this tale, more than when he thought I murdered them out of spite.

  Chapter 14

  I waited, staring at the floor as Conner watched me fidgeting where I stood, barefooted and dressed in the silky white gown he’d handed me hours ago, now red from my blood where his sister had attacked my throat. My face was covered in blood, my hair a sticky mess, and I’d never asked them for a washcloth, which I now regretted. He cleared his throat, and I lifted my eyes to hold his, somehow keeping the fear from showing in them.

  “Was it ever real?” he asked, and I sucked my lip between my teeth, narrowing my green eyes on his pretty violet ones.

  “Was what real, Conner?” I asked, needing him to clarify his question.

  “Did you ever love me?”

  “With everything I had and everything I was, I loved you,” I answered softly, my hands moving together as my finger pinched between my thumb and pointer finger to keep me grounded.

  “Do you still love me?” he countered.

  “I do, and I always will. I think you should focus on what you need to know, instead of what you want to know, King Halverson.”

  “You will answer whatever I ask you,” he replied in a dangerously dark tone. “I left you in the care of my father, a man who helped to keep you safe and protected while you were with us, and you killed him.”

  He waited, and I smiled sadly, watching his eyes while they narrowed on me as he continued to wait for the answer to his statement. I wanted to warn him, to tell him that this wasn’t something he needed, or wanted to know, no matter how much he thought he did.

  “Conner, that wasn’t a question.”

  “How many men of the hive did you lay down with willingly?” he amended.

  “All of them, and some of the women as well,” I replied as the hold on my flesh turned painful.

  “You said they raped you, and yet you say under a truth spell that you did so willingly. It can’t be both.”

  “It was rape before they discovered that our blood made me willing to do whatever they wanted from me. At first, I was the entertainment. I was beaten, raped, and the King’s personal feeder. I fought him the best I could with my hands bound, my body beaten. For an entire month, I was left tied to the pole where they took the traitors’ brides and murdered them. He raped me whenever he felt the urge to show the hive, I was his. He made me offers to turn against the witches, and he’d take me down from the pole and only keep me in his room to use. No one would be able to see him defile me anymore, but I refused. I refused to give the King who had become like a father to me an oath of fidelity.

  “One month in something happened, something I still don’t understand, and yet I felt him ripping me open. When I awoke, it was with your blood pulsing through me, enough that the pain lessened a bit, but what I found was horrifying. He’d ripped me from sternum to pelvis, allowing his doctor to crudely sew me back together. Those weren’t the only scars I had; there were many more. I was put back on the pole, and it was then I was given a traitor’s death, but once again, I couldn’t die because you merely slumbered within the great mountains. I bled out many times, and each time, I was given more blood. Your father once again offered me a chance to serve him, and once more, I refused. I was beaten until I could no longer speak or move, and it was then that he forced your blood down my throat. What happened after that, changed everything.

  “I became their willing whore, one who craved what they did to me. I couldn’t get enough. I was put into a room, and those who earned it or pleased their King were allowed to do whatever they wished to me. Every man you hurt, every vampire who had been denied a taste or a touch of me when I had been yours, well, they showed me what good little whores get, and then they beat me for fun. I took many at once, or whatever they wanted me to take. Women used me, and what they used on me were crude things, and under the influence of your blood, I didn’t beg them to stop. I would wake up covered in my blood, torn apart day after day, only to be given your blood to heal me and do it all over again.

  “After some time had passed, your father decided he wished to teach me my place and refused me the blood that would have eased my pain. I learned to service my master on my knees at his feet or in the darkest place within his keep. Sometimes, I was chained there, left for weeks to rot until he remembered I existed in that dark room where he kept me. Your brothers, your oh so sweet brothers, enjoyed me together. They were a special breed, using every part of me that could fit them; sometimes they just tortured me to see how far it could go before I succumbed to death, only to come back from it again. Your father watched us often, enjoying the screams of pain that escaped my lungs when they fed from me, or put more into me than I could take at once. I endured, and I survived because I couldn’t do anything else. I was immortally hexed, and no matter how much my soul died, my body refused to allow it to escape the endless pain. Is this what you want to know? That I played the whore and I sucked their cocks to survive. That I did everyone in that hive who wanted to fuck me? Is that what you want, or did you want to know that their depravity was real?”

  He didn’t say anything, nor would he look at me as tears ran down my cheeks to drop as crystals upon the floor. When he finally did look at me, it was with anger burning in his eyes. The bluish-purple fire that locked with mine told me that even with his witch’s spell pulsing through my system, he didn’t believe what I said.

  “You’re not vampire, Avery Cheveron. You carry no scars to prove your words.
I’ve seen every inch of your flesh, and you have only a few scars to mar that utterly perfect body of yours. You’re as beautiful as you were the day I made you into a woman. So, tell me, witch, how is that possible?”

  I stared at him with mirth and anger driving me deeper into the pits of despair that I fought against. The depression Laura had dragged me out of, the anxiety that I’d never be whole again after what they’d done to me, and it all collided together into a force that almost made me drop to my knees.

  “Yes, show us how that is possible,” Roger agreed. I turned my stare towards him, frowning as he looked at me expectantly. “I said, show us your proof. You are, after all, a witch and not a vampire, correct?”

  “I am, and I will show you,” I said even as Laura began to argue. I paused, turning to look at her panicked face. “It’s the only way they will believe me.”

  “Who cares if they do? I don’t. This is bullshit; you’ve suffered enough at their hands. It took twenty years for me to bring you back from what those sick assholes did to you. Twenty years of not knowing if what I did was enough to fix the damage they did to you. You owe these assholes nothing! You don’t owe them shit, Avery. Don’t do this.”

  “I remember how hard you fought to bring me back, but unless they see it, it won’t be real. It will only be words I say, so let them see what they have done to me,” I said as I reached down, lifting the hem of the gown to reveal my stomach and naked breasts. I handed it to her, turning to look at Conner, who narrowed his eyes on me, not liking that I’d stripped before a room full of men and women, but this was the only way I could prove what had been done to me. I took in the lust of his heady stare, the way he gazed on me as if I was some mythical creature that had been crafted in the stars purely for him. It was the last time I’d see it, the last time he’d be able to see what he wanted to and not the monster beneath the glamour of the magic I wore to hide it. My hands shook as I reached for my necklace, turning my back to him as I faced the crowd who watched us silently.

  I lifted my eyes to the crowd and whispered a spell as my fingers continued to touch the amulet, and then there was the familiar weight of it being removed. My hand stretched out with the trinket in it, and Laura stared down at it with tears swimming in her eyes as she accepted the amulet and stepped back from me. The familiar bite of pain ripped through me as the crowd watched my transformation. Gasps sounded around me, even Conner uttered beneath his breath as he took in my mutilated back where I’d been whipped until death over and over again, with Grigori rubbing salt into the wound to keep it from healing, and to be sure I carried the scar to remind me I’d been bad to refuse him. I exhaled and turned to face the man who held my soul, and yet I wouldn’t look at him through the haze that covered my eyes. They were white, sightless eyes that had yet to fully heal from the burns that had taken them from me, removing my sight. On my forehead was his family seal, written beneath it crudely was my status, Whore. On my cheeks were twin tattoos; both were upside down crosses to signify evil. Unlike the scar written above them, black ink had been used to place them, mixed with salt to ensure they didn’t fade or disappear over time. My breasts had been removed since, of course, they’d been Conner’s favorite part of my body. A scar went from below the white panties I wore to my sternum. Hundreds of bite marks covered my body, including my neck, waist, stomach, and inner thighs. My fingers had been removed, and not a single inch of me had been left untouched by their brutality. The scar on my neck was long and jagged, thick with an entire year of abuse that had left it damaged in case what else they took from me grew back so that I couldn’t whisper a spell.

  “They did this to you?” he whispered barely loud enough to be heard.

  “She cannot answer you. They took her tongue to be sure she couldn’t whisper her magic. They removed her points to be sure she was helpless against them. Avery killed your hive with dark magic, not light. She had no way to wield it, no tongue to say words of magic, and no points to conduct it. When she killed them, it was out of sheer desperation to survive. I found her dying over and over again in the gutter where she bled out from whoever had decided to rip her throat out. I do believe where she went to die again was in the same place you’d found her before. Only she couldn’t die. I took her to my coven, and together, we started to work on a way to save her life. Twenty years from the day I had discovered her mutilated body, the spell to hide her damage came to us, and I used it. I spent many years with her, trying to convince her that they’d deserved what she had done. Still, she defended you against me. You did this to her, and while she may forgive your kind for doing this to her, I don’t.”

  Laura turned, pulling me closer to her as she placed the necklace back onto my throat and whispered the words that I couldn’t. I allowed her to help me dress, unable to pick up the gown she’d dropped or move from where I balanced without my toes to steady me. No noise filled the assembly of creatures that had stared at me aghast, horrified by the sight of my mutilated body. I didn’t blame them; the first time I’d taken in what I looked like, I’d moaned, unable to even scream at the monster who had gazed through sightless eyes into that blurry silver mirror. That day, it haunted me every time I passed a mirror, and so I’d had every one of them taken out of the academy to be sure those memories remained buried. I’d thrown myself into helping the lost and abused, the misfortunate souls that had ever suffered or lost a part of them.

  I moaned as I tried to make words come out, and yet nothing did. I turned back to the council, watching Roger as he blanched, now fully aware of what lay beneath the veneer I wore to hide the scars and the abuse I’d survived. I swallowed hard several times as I let the magic wash through me while I used my phantom fingers to fix the gown I wore. The good thing about the spell was that I felt real, and each part that it brought back, like fingers, had feeling even if it was only phantom-like feeling.

  “You have paid more than anyone should ever have to,” Arthur said without emotion marring his words. “I will ask no price of blood, nor debt to be paid from you. Conner, do you agree?” he asked, turning to look at Conner, who had yet to speak.

  “I agree, she has suffered enough from us and shall be free from any judgment or further punishment.”

  “We will vote to see if she will be tried for treason,” Roger announced, and one by one, the witches voiced their opinion, until only one remained. Harley smiled, her pristine white teeth too white, her eyes too blue and filled with victory as she whispered the final “Aye.” I smiled as I watched her, noting the discoloration of her lips, and the lines that pulled her face too tightly from her hair.

  “I will not stand accused of treason for crimes that you make up. I committed no treason against any witch or coven. I didn’t order or help in the deaths of the vampire hives either. There was only one other witch who knew of their location at that time, isn’t that right, Hemlock?” I asked and smirked as he stared at me with smiling eyes. I could feel him, the vileness of his ill-magic as it filled the other witches around him, driving a single thought into their minds. His magic had helped to save me so long ago, and yet Conner had trusted his motives and murdered him to keep me safe. Apparently, Hemlock had taken steps in case such a thing ever occurred. It helped a lot of other things that had happened make sense. Like my overwhelming need to breed back then, but I’d been naïve and untrained during that time. It wasn’t the case now.

  “Avery, I killed Hemlock once he’d figured out the spell to make you immortal.” Conner’s tone didn’t carry a lie; in fact, he’d probably assumed he had managed to kill the witch. But we were nothing, if not for survivors.

  “The same witch who made me immortal? The same one who bound my soul to yours and gave you the power to determine if I lived or died? He took the same spell and used it; of that you can be sure. Our mantra is to survive, and so he has.”

  “It’s a woman,” Arthur injected into the conversation as he stared at the
body Hemlock projected. My guess was that poor Harley was somewhere dead with her throat slit.

  I struck before they could stop me, letting the power ooze from my pores as I erupted into action, landing on Hemlock’s lap. I leaned over, whispering a spell to show me what truly lay beneath the spell he wore. Dull brown eyes held mine while graying hair spread over his head. His flesh contorted, losing the delicate features for more masculine ones. I leaned in closer, placing my lips against his as I inhaled his magic, draining him of everything that he had within him, leaving him a mere mortal as I sat up onto the table with him between my legs, gasping for air.

  “You fucking bitch! You and your whore swine took everything from me. Everything! Then, after I’d done what he had asked, and it was my turn to become immortal like you, he murdered me. But I knew he would, and I took steps to ensure that I survived at all cost. Neither of you ever felt my touch of magic as I made you breed so that I could have a child with your bloodlines to rule the world! Then, I made him murder the Prince of the Spanish Vampires, and as he lay slumbering, I watched them mutilate his perfect mate as he slept; his fucking soulmate was tortured and ripped apart as he lay helpless in his slumber, never knowing what happened to you because my magic shielded him from your pain. You think I didn’t enjoy that sweet flesh of yours too? Grigori allowed me between these perfect thighs as much as I wanted, and oh, did I want it. You never even knew it was me who fucked you, taking you over and over as you begged for death. I had them all under my spell, none ever felt it either. I am a better witch than you will ever be, Cheveron. I even helped them hide the monstrous little bitch you carried in your poisonous womb. Not even Mayhem realized he was beneath my spell the entire time he brought you Conner’s blood, or if he did, he was spelled never to tell him the truth. You never even knew you had done it, created a life with your precious prince. You had no idea that Grigori had heard its heart beating and ripped you apart to remove his granddaughter from your worthless, dying womb because I helped him drug you and keep you unaware of what happened other than the pain. That, I let you feel; every tear of your flesh, every bite of his fangs was like being torn open again, wasn’t it? I helped them keep you alive, revealing to them the drug his blood would become to you. I am the witch who helped put your prince to sleep at his father’s request, drugging his slumber so that he never felt your pain or your arousal as you played the perfect whore. I took from you both, as you took from me. I had planned to bring you to him once you’d endured a few centuries of torture and there was nothing left of you but your pretty holes, but you murdered them and ruined my plans.”