by Megan Berry
Her fingers fell upon a heavy, sealed envelope made from stiff paper. Harper struggled to open it until she accidentally gave herself a paper cut and a tiny bit of blood spilled out to stain the envelope. On her second try, the envelope opened easily beneath her fingers. Harper sucked on her finger to ease the sting as her eyes skimmed the note. It was from Gran, and as she read her jaw went slack.
My darling Harper, I hope you will always know what a sweet and loving girl you are. I will never forget our time together. Don’t be sad that I am gone, celebrate my life and know that an ancient ritual is now being passed down to you. Death is not the end, it is merely the beginning.
I probably should have brought this up to you sometime during the last few years, so you could have had time to reflect and train, but I was also thrust into this quite unexpectedly and I truly believe that the shock makes the magic stronger.
Harper’s belly began to flip uncomfortably once again at the mention of the word magic. It was certainly getting tossed around a lot these days.
You were not trained in the conventional way, but I know from experience that hard work and determination are nature’s best teachers. Harper, pay attention because this is very important. You are a witch.
Harper let out a squeak and tossed the paper down. She didn’t believe it. That would be crazy, but why was everyone else around her being so crazy? Gran was not the sort to play tricks on people, especially not on Harper. Harper took a deep breath and picked the paper up again.
You don’t believe me. I didn’t believe my own Mother’s letter after she passed, so humor me. Imagine me in your head and repeat these words. Synodus in lumine.
Harper stared at the words and then glanced around feeling foolish. She had no interest in repeating silly words, but it was a request from her dead gran. Harper looked around one more time to make sure no more casserole-toting townsfolk had decided to drop by unexpectedly.
Then she closed her eyes and imagined her gran in her head. She had been a petite woman, much smaller than Harper’s own 5’ 10” frame. Harper saw her in her mind’s eye, with her thick white hair curling wildly and the happy grin she always wore. “Synodus in Lumine,” Harper said out loud, stuttering a bit over the foreign words. As soon as the words left Harper’s tongue, an electrical jolt ripped through her body, pulling a scream from her lips.
Her entire body hummed like currents were coursing through every nerve she had, making her feel jittery and weak, and her heart sped up to race loudly, pounding in her ears until it was the only sound she could hear. Harper collapsed out of her chair and hit the floor hard, her limbs unwilling to keep her from smacking her face. The ring on her finger began to glow, and a thin strand of light suddenly shot out of it. All Harper could do was watch in horror, unable to move as the light hit the ceiling and bounced back to pierce Harper’s chest.
Harper gasped and writhed. The light felt like a laser, pumping heat through her body until finally, after what felt like an hour, but had really only been a few seconds, the light turned from bright orange to blue and Harper felt a soothing cool wave descend over her body. The humming stopped and her limbs began to twitch as her motor skills were returned to her. The light stopped shooting from the ring, and Harper scrambled to her feet, gasping and sobbing as she ran from the room. She went into the living room but felt it wasn’t enough, so she ran outside into the front yard and stood there gasping and looking around. A few people walked along the sidewalk and looked at her curiously, but Harper didn’t care anymore.
She stared at the devil ring that was still smoking lightly on her finger. After a moment’s hesitation, she worked up the courage to try and pry it off. The ring wouldn’t budge, and the more she pulled at it, the tighter it seemed to get. Harper let out a scream of frustration as she stared at her own finger in anger and betrayal. The garden shed caught her attention and she ran over to it and threw the door open, spilling everything as she fumbled for a tool she could use to get rid of the ring. Her eyes landed on a welder with a torch cutter sitting in the corner, but she dismissed it—too risky.
She tossed everything upside down until she found a sharp pair of handheld garden snips. Harper seized them, ramming one side of the blade between her skin and the ring as she began to furiously snip at the metal band. The ring began to turn red, and Harper had to swallow her fear. It was starting to get angry! “Come on you devil ring!” Harper shouted at it as sweat poured off her forehead with the effort. A splash of sweat landed on the ring and it sizzled. Harper screamed again when the garden shears turned to ash in her hand. The ring looked virtually untouched.
Harper shook the ash from her hands and ran out of the shed, back into the yard. Her fingers fumbled to pull her cellphone from her pocket. She scrolled through her caller ID until she came across the lawyer’s number—thankful he had insisted she take it this afternoon—and then she called. She didn’t care if she sounded crazy anymore. He was the one who had delivered her this devil ring, and he could take it back.
“Hello?” came the masculine voice on the other side of the line, and Harper lost it.
“Mr. Bell…” was all she managed to get out before she started to hyperventilate.
“–I’ll be right there,” Mr. Bell said calmly.
Harper heard a click, and then she was left staring at her phone and praying he wouldn’t be very long. She sank miserably down to her knees in the grass, and that’s where Mr. Bell found her five minutes later when his dark sedan screeched to a halt, half on the curb.
“Harper?” Mr. Bell said, forgetting to say Miss. Jones, and Harper glanced up at him with tears in her eyes.
“This ring…” Harper mumbled, bursting into sobs. “It’s possessed.”
Mr. Bell awkwardly patted her on the back. “This is a hard thing,” he sympathized. “Did you finish reading the letter?” he asked, and Harper shook her head. “That might be a good place to start?” he suggested, and again Harper shook her head. The idea of going back into that house was terrifying.
“I’m scared,” Harper admitted, looking at the house like it was going to grow fangs and eat her. Mr. Bell sighed.
“I promise you. There is nothing inside the house that can hurt you,” he told her, and Harper shook her head. “By your own admittance, it is the ring that you fear and no matter where you go, the ring will also go…” Mr. Bell pointed out, and Harper paused. It was true, everything terrible that had happened was from the ring and it had followed her out here. The letter might be the only way to gain some insight into what was happening to her.
“Okay,” Harper said shakily, and Mr. Bell grinned.
“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged her, reaching down and yanking her to her feet like she weighed nothing. Harper clung to his arm and together they made their way back into the house. It wasn’t the proudest day for feminism, but having the hulking giant beside her made Harper feel safer.
They found the letter on the table where she’d left it. Mr. Bell picked it up and, after pressing Harper into a chair, he handed it over.
Harper took a deep breath and peered down at her gran’s writing.
Make sure you are sitting flat on the floor when you speak the words, the seizures can be a real bitch.
Harper blinked. She’d never heard her gran use such language, but it was undoubtedly her handwriting. “That would have been nice to know before I said the words,” she muttered grumpily, wishing her gran was here right now so she could badger her with a thousand questions.
If you’ve done as I asked, then you have now ignited the spark. It wasn’t pleasant, and I’m sorry. I nearly bit my tongue clean off when I went through it. Hopefully your experience was better. In the off chance that you did bite your tongue off, I have a great spell for reattaching it in my spell book. Page 347.
Harper glared at the paper, was this supposed to be some sort of joke?
The spell book is in the bag and it contains everything you’ll ever need to know from our rich family his
tory to any spell, charm, or enchantment you could ever hope to cast, will be in there. Each generation eventually adds a few of their own, and I know in time you will be able to add to the book as well.
I love you darling. Please remember that this is the greatest gift on earth, and not the curse that it may feel like right now.
Harper stared at the paper, flipping it over to see if something else had been written on the back. “That’s it?” she demanded with a grimace. “I still don’t understand!” she shouted.
Mr. Bell, who had been reading over her shoulder, put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You will probably understand more when you go through the book,” he suggested, and Harper began to feel anger burn in her belly. Was she really supposed to believe that she was a witch based on one crazed letter from beyond the grave? It seemed like the thing everyone wanted her to believe, and there had been that weird electrical shock earlier... but, it couldn’t be true. Her fingers tightened on the paper as she thought back over what her gran had written. It appeared that her gran had known about this and had kept it from her on purpose…
“Whoa!” Mr. Bell shouted suddenly, making Harper glance up at him in surprise. He was staring at the paper in her hands. Harper realized quickly, when it burnt her finger, that it was on fire.
“Holy shit!” Harper yelped as she dropped the paper and jumped back. Mr. Bell swept the paper to the floor with his palm and then viciously stomped it out. He picked the paper up and held it out to her when he was done. It wasn’t burnt too terribly, most of Gran’s writing was still legible, just singed around the edges.
“Did that thing just self-destruct?” Harper squeaked, refusing to take it. Mr. Bell held it up to his nose and took a couple deep sniffs.
“I don’t think it was spelled to destroy itself… I think you got angry and lit it on fire,” he suggested in an even tone, and Harpers eyebrows rose up towards her hair.
“You think I did that?” she asked incredulously, and Mr. Bell nodded almost apologetically. Harper shook her head in denial.
“I couldn’t have…” she said, though a small nagging voice in her head also accused her. She had felt a surge of power that had come with the anger.
“I think we should be careful until we know more,” Mr. Bell suggested diplomatically, and Harper latched onto that idea and nodded in agreement.
A huge thump made Harper jump about a foot in the air just as she was reaching for the spell book. She snatched her hand back and clung, instead, to Mr. Bell. The buff lawyer didn’t jump, but his head did whip around, and both of their eyes landed on the floor as they pinpointed the source of the noise.
The basement. “I have a possum down there,” Harper said glumly, finally remembering that she had to do something about it eventually. She stared at Mr. Bell hopefully—he was a big, strapping man who looked more than capable of putting a hit out on a possum…
Mr. Bell’s nostrils flared, and his face darkened with fury. “That isn’t a possum,” he roared as he took off. He pulled so hard that the entire basement door came off in his hand. The polite lawyer was nowhere to be seen; he didn’t even apologize as he flung the door across the room and took off into the darkness, four steps at a time. Harper swallowed visibly, pausing to grab her bat from beside the couch and flip on the basement lights before she followed him down. It wouldn’t be very polite to wait at the top of the stairs and let her guest do all the work—even if that was exactly what the fear center in her brain was shrieking at her to do.
Harper paused at the bottom of the stairs and took a moment to pinpoint Mr. Bell. His hulking frame was taking up most of the doorway to her gran’s wine cellar, which was also missing its door. Man, this guy was hard on things.
Harper squeezed in beside Mr. Bell and stopped, her jaw dropping as she gaped at the man shackled to the wall. He was shirtless and his body was emaciated looking. Harper could count every single rib, though he was definitely still alive. His eyes landed on Harper and even though he looked horrible, his eyes were bright with curiosity as they examined her from head to toe.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Mr. Bell roared at the man chained to the wall, and Harper was stunned. Why in the hell was he yelling at the guy who was obviously the victim in all of this? Harper put a restraining arm on Mr. Bell’s arm, but he shook her off.
The man on the wall ignored Mr. Bell and eyed the pink bat Harper was holding with a faint smile. “What are you going to do with that? Smack me back to the Barbie dream house?” he mocked, and Harper moved closer to the guy, setting the bat down so he wouldn’t be scared. Of course she wasn’t going to hit him—it was obvious he’d been through enough. Guilt ate at her when she remembered the way she’d put off coming down here. What kind of weird shit had her gran been into?
“Get away from him!” Mr. Bell roared, and for a minute, Harper thought she saw his eyes glowing yellow. Harper shook her head. It was probably just the light reflecting off the bottles…
Harper took another step closer, and the guy on the wall fanged out. Harper gasped when she saw the deadly pair of glistening white fangs that suddenly popped from his mouth. Mr. Bell rushed forward and flung Harper behind him, knocking her to the ground with his exuberance.
The guy on the wall hissed at Mr. Bell, and then suddenly Mr. Bell was getting even larger. His bones cracked loudly and he let out a grunt of pain as thick hair began to sprout from every visible place on his body. His spine bent and cracked loudly. When he fell to all fours, his nails elongated into razor-sharp claws. Harper blinked. A wolf was standing in front of her. It was so terrifying that Harper let out a girly scream, and the wolf spun around to face her. He took one step towards her, and Harper picked up the pink bat off the floor and threw it, as hard as she could, at his face as she back pedaled, trying to get away.
The wolf caught the bat easily in his massive jaws, like a Labrador with his favorite stick, and bit the bat clean in half, spitting out splinters. Harper finally scrambled to her feet and turned to run, her foot catching on a loose piece of concrete, and she fell head first into the wine rack. Wine rained down on her head as a large piece of glass lodged into her forehead, making her moan. Harper struggled against unconsciousness and lost.
Her eyes flickered shut just as Mr. Bell shifted back into human form, completely naked, his clothing shredded to bits.
“Now you’ve done it,” the vampire chained to the wall mocked, and Mr. Bell growled at him.
“Shut up, blood sucker,” he demanded, but the vampire was having too much fun. He’d been locked down here for nearly two weeks, wasting away.
“Flea bag idiot,” he managed to get out before the werewolf’s enormous fist crashed into his face, indenting the back of his head into the concrete wall.
“I haven’t seen you in fifty years, and you’re still just as annoying,” Mr. Bell huffed as he picked the unconscious form of his charge up off the floor and carried her upstairs. This was going to take A LOT of explaining.
Chapter Four
“Don’t lie, you wanted me dead just like everyone else—you voted to have me staked,” a male voice hissed, stirring at Harper’s subconscious.
“So what if I did? You deserved it,” another voice argued back, adding a low growl to each word for emphasis, and Harper struggled to find the light at the end of the very dark tunnel. She blinked several times, her head aching like someone had taken a hammer to her skull. She felt nauseous, and all around her reeked of booze.
Her groan alerted the two men that she was awake, finally, and the vampire came to lean over her expectantly. Harper finally got her eyes open for good, and her world came sharply into focus, bringing with it a splitting headache. She stared at the two men looking down at her and remembrance flooded back.
Harper opened her mouth and let out a girly scream that made her headache increase tenfold. “You’re m…monsters!” she stuttered, trying to sit up, but only succeeding in giving herself the spins. She grabbed her head and sank back do
wn onto the pillow. She was pretty sure she had a concussion. If they were going to kill her, she had no way of stopping them.
Mr. Bell came over and sat down gently on the chair beside her bed, making it creak loudly in protest. He was wearing a large floral sheet wrapped around his hulking frame, toga style. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Harper would have burst out laughing.
“This isn’t the way we wanted to introduce you to our world,” Mr. Bell said, shaking his head in remorse. Harper stared at Mr. Bell. He looked completely normal now, well, minus the toga, but it was almost easy to think she’d dreamed the whole thing.
“Is this a dream?” she asked, praying it was true, and the man they’d found chained to the wall nodded emphatically.
“It was, yes,” he told her at the same time Mr. Bell shook his head.
“It was not,” Mr. Bell shot the man an angry look. “Jasper, you shouldn’t lie to her. It will not help in the long run,” Mr. Bell said, aiming the last part at the stranger.
Jasper shrugged and walked over to lean against the dresser as he watched her.
“What are you?” Harper asked, staring at the man in morbid curiosity. He looked much better than he had when they’d found him chained to the wall. He had been pale and gaunt and looked on the verge of death, but now he had filled back out. He was well muscled, though on the lean side, and his skin had a healthy rose glow.
Jasper looked at Mr. Bell as though for permission, and the wolf gave a quick jerk of his head like it pained him. Jasper grinned down at Harper and flashed just a hint of fang. “To answer your question, love, I’m a vampire,” he said, waiting gleefully for the shrieks of terror. They didn’t come.
Jasper glanced down at the young woman on the bed and frowned. “Why aren’t you screaming?” he demanded, making Harper shrug helplessly.
