“We can’t.” I gasped. “That’s impossible. It’s more than impossible… it’s not natural. You were a witch once—you should know this more than anyone.”
“When I was a witch, it was believed that becoming immortal was impossible, too.” Laila smiled, flashing her fangs. “And look at me now.”
“The immortality spell was dark magic,” I reminded her. “And yes, the spell granted immortality, but it got twisted in the process. It created…” I paused, feeling like it was unnecessary to remind Laila how her spell had gone awry. Because when Laila and her circle of witches had cast the immortality spell, they’d intended for it to give them true, pure immortality. They hadn’t expected it to force them to drink the blood of humans to survive. The dark magic had twisted the spell in ways they hadn’t imagined. But Laila knew what she was—she certainly didn’t need me to remind her. Especially since I wanted to become a vampire myself.
The spell that had created the vampires may have gotten twisted, but it had still given them what they’d wanted—immortality. And I still wanted that for myself. Because being immortal—even if it meant relaying on the blood of humans to survive—was better than aging and dying. I hated the thought of getting old and feeble while everyone else in the kingdom remained young and strong forever. Why should I die when they got to live? It wasn’t fair.
“It created the vampires,” Laila finished my thought. “There’s a spell for everything—even if that spell is currently unknown in our world. You just have to be willing to pay the price.”
“Dark magic always has a catch,” I said. “Who knows what that catch would be with something as risky as speaking with the dead?”
“You can’t know unless you try,” Laila answered simply. “And for the chance of acquiring Geneva’s sapphire ring, I think it’s worth the risk. But it’s your call, of course, since you’re the one who’s able to cast magic.”
“Like you said, such a spell is unknown.” I clenched my hands into fists, doing my best to reign in my frustration. “You’re asking me to cast a spell that doesn’t exist. It’s not possible. I’m powerful, yes. But I don’t know how to do that.”
“I did it once,” she reminded me. “All of the original vampires did.”
“And all of you have kept the secret of what you’ve done since then,” I told her. “How did you do it? Tell me, and I’ll try.” I stared at her, desperate to know. Because it was the question that all witches had wondered since the original vampires had cast the vampire spell upon themselves. But they’d refused to tell us what they’d done. They’d kept it secret for centuries.
Laila paced around the room, winding her hands together and looking anywhere but my direction. Was she truly contemplating telling me this centuries old secret?
I held my breath, waiting. If she told me… well, I would have to assume that there was more of a reason why she wanted to acquire Geneva’s sapphire ring than she was saying. I’d known Laila long enough to know that she always had an ulterior motive for everything she did. And right now, she appeared more shaken than I’d ever seen her.
There was something she wasn’t telling me. And I was determined to discover what that something was.
Finally she stopped and stared me straight in the eye. “I will tell you what we did,” she said simply.
“Really?” I asked. “Just like that?”
“I will require a blood oath, of course,” she continued. “Where you will promise that you will tell no one of what I’m about to reveal.”
“Of course.” The answer fell from my lips quickly—how could I turn down her offer of such knowledge? I couldn’t. And I didn’t even need to tell anyone of what I would learn—I could benefit enough from the knowledge on my own. So my response was a no-brainer.
She walked over to the bar, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a knife. Then she walked back over to me, her gaze on mine the entire time. Once she was directly in front of me, she dragged the knife across her palm, blood oozing out of the incision. She wiped off the blade, handed the knife to me, and I did the same, making sure not to wince as I dragged the blade across my skin. Once finished, I handed it back to her.
She licked my blood clean off the knife, smiling as she swallowed.
I knew that my witch blood tasted bland to her compared to human blood—the blood of supernaturals was rather tasteless to vampires—but I knew why she did it. She was showing me that she was the one in control.
As if I could ever forget.
“If I tell you the secret of how I discovered how to create a new spell, you will swear that you will tell no one of what you learned, nor will you tell them that I told you this secret at all,” she said, her gaze locked on mine. “It will remain strictly between us, for all eternity. Do you swear to agree to this blood oath?”
“I swear,” I said, and then I placed my palm in hers, and the oath was sealed.
Camelia
“The fae,” Laila told me once the blood oath was complete.
“What about them?” I flexed my hand as the cut on my palm healed. Unlike vampires, witches didn’t heal automatically—only with spells. But the magic of a blood oath was unique. After the oath was completed, the cuts always healed, even on humans.
“They told us how to create the immortality spell.”
“You spoke to the fae?” I widened my eyes, shocked.
The fae ruled the Otherworld—a realm separate from Earth. No creature on Earth was known to have been to the Otherworld and lived to tell the tale, but its glamour and luxury were rumored to put Earth to shame. There was no need for the fae to bother with Earth when they were practically gods of their own magnificent realm. Plus, the iron on Earth was poisonous to the fae. They used to occasionally come to Earth to toy with humans while bored, but that came to a halt after the industrial revolution. Now, they avoided Earth at all costs.
But Laila and the other original vampires cast the immortality spell centuries ago, way before the industrial revolution. So I supposed it wasn’t too far-fetched that they might have come across a few members of the illusive species.
“We did,” Laila confirmed.
“But…” I paused, winding my fingers together. “The fae are dangerous. Mischievous. We all know to never trust the fae.”
“They are rather tough to deal with,” Laila agreed. “They demand payment for everything. Nothing they do is without cost—a high cost. They’re like gods—their magic is far more powerful than I believe any of us truly understand. Of course, they hardly bother with those of us on Earth. But if you’re willing to pay their price… I have no doubt that they would do more than just provide you with a spell to speak with the dead. They have the ability to answer your question outright—perhaps they even have a spell to counteract the spell cast upon the Crystal Cavern all those years ago.”
“What kind of cost did they require of you?” I asked. “To provide you with the immortality spell?”
“Their cost was high.” Laila’s eyes went far off, and she stared out the window, showing a rare display of emotion.
“What was it?” I asked again, softly. “Knowing will help prepare me for what they might ask of me.”
She blinked and returned her gaze to mine, the small display of tenderness from earlier gone. “They asked for my memories,” she said simply.
“Which memories?” I asked.
“All of them.”
“What?” I blinked, making sure I’d heard her correctly. “How could they ask for all of your memories?”
“Not just mine,” she continued. “But from each of the original vampires. We were witches at the time, but as you now know, none of us have any memories of our time as witches.”
“So you have no memories of your time before the fae provided you with the spell?” I asked, baffled by this news.
How could they take away someone’s entire life like that?
“None except for our desire to become immortal,” she said. “They let us keep that mem
ory—if you could even call it a memory. The first thing I remember in life is being with the other six originals in a field with the fae, each of us with an unquenchable urge for immortality and the knowledge that the fae had just provided us with the tools of how to do that. The fae told us what we had done, and we all figured that we must have desperately wanted this spell to give them our memories in return.”
“Wow.” I shook my head, taking it all in. Could I do what Laila and the others had done? Give up my memories—basically, kill who I’d been up to this point in life—in exchange for a spell? And not just a regular spell—but a dark spell that hadn’t turned out to be the exact spell that they’d wanted, since it had turned them into vampires instead of pure immortals.
At least it finally made sense how their immortality spell had gotten so twisted. Because it had been provided by the fae. The fae never did anything at face value. With the fae, there was always a catch.
Which was why every supernatural on Earth was glad that the fae rarely ventured out of the Otherworld, since it was where they belonged.
“You seem displeased,” Laila observed.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked, not stopping to confirm her statement. “Not knowing who you were before becoming a vampire?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I know that in order to have paid such a price, I must have wanted immortality with every piece of my soul. And the life I’ve been able to live because of the spell—the centuries I’ve experienced—are certainly worth the price of the first twenty years of my life.”
“I suppose so.” I nodded, although I couldn’t bring myself to completely agree. Because Laila had no idea who she’d been before the spell. She had no way of knowing if it had truly been worth the price or not.
Paying such a price was the same thing as paying with your own life.
“You hesitate,” Laila observed. “Do you not wish to give the fae a sacrifice in exchange for Geneva’s ring?”
“It would depend on the sacrifice,” I answered honestly. “But I could always speak with them and refuse to give them what they ask if I believe it’s too much, right?”
“Wrong.” Laila shook her head. “The fae demand payment simply for summoning them. Then they’ll demand a greater payment for what you want them to do for you. That payment will depend on the request, of course. The greater the request, the greater the payment.”
“What was your payment for summoning them?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I lost that memory with all of the rest.”
“Oh.” I went silent, staring out the window and into the town. It was the night of a new moon, and the buildings were blanketed in the darkness. Witches were affected by moon cycles, and I never liked the nights of the new moon—the presence of the moon made me feel stronger and more powerful. Tonight, I was at my most vulnerable. I felt the vulnerability down to my bones.
But the new moon also gave me hope—because it gave me the luxury of time.
“The fae can only be summoned on the night of the full moon, correct?” I asked Laila, even though I knew it to be true. Witches weren’t taught much about the fae, since we were supposed to avoid dealing with them at all costs—but we’d always been taught to be cautious on the night of the full moon. Because the power that we have on the night of the full moon is the residual effect of something else—it’s the night when the wall between our world and the Otherworld is the thinnest.
“Correct,” Laila said. “Which gives you approximately two weeks to prepare yourself.”
If I decide to go through with this, I thought, although I didn’t voice my feelings out loud. Because the idea of being required to give the fae something simply in return for summoning them scared me. The fae were merciless, cold creatures. Whatever they desired from me would surely be something I didn’t want to give.
“You’re scared,” Laila observed, tilting her head in that typical cunning way of hers. “But I must ask you, my dear Camelia—what scares you more? The thought of giving the fae payment for the information you seek? Or the thought of never being turned into a vampire—of growing old and dying? Especially because the amount of magic you have to constantly use to keep the boundary up around the Vale will surely quicken your aging process. If Geneva cannot take your place, it won’t be long until I’ll need to find a strong male witch for you to breed with. After all, we need a witch to continue keeping up the boundary once you’re gone…”
I flinched at her words. An image filled my mind of myself as an old woman, unable to get around for herself, while all of the vampires that I thought of as my family and friends were just as sprightly and beautiful as ever. Of Jacen, still in his prime, gazing down at me in pity for the pathetic old woman I’d become. And worst of all, being matched with a male witch so I could breed with him to produce a daughter who could keep up the boundary around the Vale after I died.
“You truly wouldn’t turn me if I didn’t go to the fae?” I asked. I didn’t want to believe Laila would be that cruel—Laila had raised me. My father had left my mother after she found out she was pregnant, and then my mom had died when I was young. I’d always felt that Laila had taken over the role of mother in my life.
“If you cannot do this for me, why should I turn you?” she asked with a shrug. “I’ve raised you into the most powerful witch in the entire continent. Only a witch of your bloodline can keep the barrier around the Vale up on its own, and you’re the final witch of your bloodline left. Thus why we’ll need to find a male witch for you, and soon. If I turned you, you would lose the ability to do magic and I would need a circle of witches to maintain the barrier—like the Carpathian Kingdom must do. And I hardly see the advantage of that… don’t you agree?”
“A circle of witches can create a barrier of the same strength as mine,” I told her. “The Carpathian Kingdom is well protected.”
“And if any of those five witches are harmed, the entire barrier will be weakened,” she said. “The Carpathians must worry about protecting not just one witch, but five. I much prefer only worrying about the protection of one. Of you. But,” she continued, not giving me a chance to speak. “Geneva could certainly maintain the barrier on her own. With her here, I would then be free to turn you.”
“If Geneva even wants to help you,” I said, although I wished I could take back my words immediately after. It hardly benefited me to make Laila doubt her plans.
“Geneva will help me.” Laila smirked, her eyes filled with a knowing gleam. “Trust me, you don’t need to worry about that.”
I nodded, assuming that Laila had some way of blackmailing Geneva into protecting the Vale—and also knowing that she certainly wouldn’t share those details with me.
“The first payment to the fae is never anything huge.” Laila held her gaze with mine, speaking softer now. “Of course, I don’t remember what they required of me, but those sort of small payments pale in comparison to what they’ll ask for a true favor. But the ball is in your court, Camelia. What do you wish to do?”
I stayed calm and steady under her gaze, knowing what I wanted. I wanted to be young and beautiful forever. I didn’t want to be stuck breeding with a male witch assigned to me, all so I could pass on the strongest magical genes possible so my future daughter would be raised in the Vale—raised to constantly use her magic to keep up the boundary and thus be doomed to die an early death like me and my mother before me.
I wanted to be a vampire.
Becoming a vampire was the only way out of my servitude as a witch to Queen Laila and the Vale.
Yes, the payment required of the fae scared me. If they asked for all of my memories, as they’d asked from Laila and her coven, I wasn’t sure I would be able to go through with it.
But if I decided not to do this, I knew what I would regret as I lay old and dying in my bed—I would regret not seizing this opportunity. Of being too scared to take a chance.
I refused to let myself live with regret. There
fore, I would pay the first, small price of the fae. And then, when I learned of their larger price, I would make my decision then and there.
“I wish to learn how to summon the fae,” I told Laila, holding my chin high as I spoke and trying to keep myself from shaking. After all, I wasn’t yet committing to paying their price. I was simply learning what to do if it came to it. “Tell me what I must do.”
She smiled, sat me down, and told me everything.
Annika
I paced around the cave, holding the flashlight, and checked my watch. Geneva had been gone for hours. What on Earth could she be getting up to?
She’d already teleported to Camelia’s room and stolen the Omniscient Crystal—it now sat with the rest of the original pieces on a table nearby. This time around, she’d left to find the human whose identity I would be “stealing.” All she needed were strands of the human’s hair. Then she could do her witchy magic voodoo thing, create the potion that would turn me into a vampire princess, and we would be ready to go.
What could be taking her so long? I bit my lower lip, worried. Geneva was supposedly the most powerful witch in the world. I didn’t want to think she could have run into trouble on the first task I sent her on, but I couldn’t deny the possibility. While she was powerful, she wasn’t immortal.
And if she didn’t return, it wouldn’t be long until I died in this cave.
Just when I was beginning to worry that this had all been a giant trick and Geneva had abandoned me to die, she appeared in front of me. Her hair was disheveled, but other than that, she looked unharmed.
I stopped pacing and let out a breath of relief. “You made it,” I said, lowering my arms back down to my sides.
“Of course I made it.” She straightened and showed me something she’d been hiding behind her back—a vial of blood. “And I bring the first dose of the potion you requested.”
“The transformation spell has been put in it too?” I asked.
The Vampire Wish: The Complete Series (Dark World) Page 19
