“When?”
“Preferably before the wedding,” he said dryly.
“Oh, Daddy!” She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “We aren’t getting married. I hardly know him. We’re just…you know, friends. How did you and Mom meet?”
“The first time I saw your mother, she was dancing. I took one look and I was smitten…”
“Smitten! Oh, Daddy, how melodramatic.”
“But true, nonetheless. I saw her and I knew I had to have her.”
“Smitten.” Cara shook her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone actually use that word. Did Mom feel the same about you?”
“Not at first, but I soon won her over.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“No?”
“Of course not. You’re very sexy. For an old man,” she added with a grin.
Old, he thought. She had no idea. “So, when do we get to meet this new man in your life?”
She started to say Sunday, then remembered that she had a date with Anton and no way to contact him so she could break it, although she might be able to get in touch with him by calling his mother’s bookstore. She frowned thoughtfully. She had no way to get in touch with Vince, either, unless she went by the garage. “I’ll talk to Vince and get back to you.”
“All right.” Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. “Good night, Princess.”
“Night, Dad.”
Roshan blew out a sigh as his daughter left the room. If centuries of experience had taught him anything, it was that nothing stayed the same, but this was one change he wasn’t looking forward to.
Chapter 9
Serafina sat on the floor in the back of her shop, opening boxes. Since she had discovered eBay, every day was like Christmas. It was amazing, all the weird and wondrous things you could find for sale there. Of course, her passion was books. The boxes she was opening now contained a collection of books she had purchased from a seller on eBay who claimed that the books had originally belonged to the seller’s great-great-grandmother, who had been a practicing witch.
Serafina removed the books from the boxes reverently. One by one, she thumbed through them, thrilled with what she saw. The books were indeed old and rare, some so old they had been written in longhand.
One especially caught her eye. It was a book of ancient mystical blood rituals. There were spells for curing warts and insomnia and for healing a variety of illnesses, most of which no longer existed. There were love spells, of course. What witch hadn’t been approached for a charm that would win the love of another? The last part of the book was dedicated to dark Magick.
Serafina hesitated to turn the page. She had been taught that witchcraft should only be used for good, but curiosity finally won out. She turned the pages, scanning them quickly, until she came to the last page.
The words seemed to blur before her eyes.
An Incantation to Raise the Dead
On All Hallow’s Eve, between dusk and dawn,
The blood of kin must be drawn,
Nine drops, no more, no less,
The blood of kin you must bless.
To this the blood of love you add,
And the blood of an enemy, it must be had.
Seven drops of each, one by one,
Quickly now, it must be done.
Four drops of a maiden’s blood,
Rosemary for remembrance,
An infant’s blood, three drops for life anew.
A sprinkling of yarrow, a dash of rue.
Spread the blood upon the crypt,
When the moon commands the sky.
Call forth the dead, his name times three,
Doubt not, and he will come to thee.
A shiver ran down her spine as she read the spell a second time. All Hallow’s Eve. Among witches and warlocks, it was considered the most magical night of the year, a night of power, when the veil that separated this world from the world of spirits was at its thinnest.
She read the poem again. It seemed much too easy and yet, if it was remotely possible, All Hallow’s Eve was the perfect night for such a spell. In ancient times, it was the one night in the year when the dead could return to the land of the living. In Ireland, burial mounds were opened and torches lit so the dead could find their way, though all had to return to their rightful place at sunrise.
But if her incantation worked, Anthony would not have to return to the Otherworld. She closed her eyes, her mind filling with images of her beloved. Was it truly possible to raise the dead? To see him again! He would surely love her then!
The blood of kin. Anton, of course. The blood of an enemy. Roshan or his wife, either would do. The blood of a maiden? Roshan’s daughter. An infant’s blood, and rosemary. The blood of love would be her own blood, of course, freely given.
Hugging herself, she imagined how wonderful it would be to see Anthony again, to hear his voice, see his smile. And how wonderful for Anton to finally meet his father!
All Hallow’s Eve. She had only a few months to plan and prepare. It seemed too long, and not long enough.
Chapter 10
Cara slept late Saturday morning, her dreams troubled. First she was dancing at The Nocturne with Anton, then she was making out with Vince while Anton and her father watched. In the distance, a woman danced naked under a full moon, and standing behind the woman was another man. She couldn’t see his face but evil poured out of him like thick black smoke. It engulfed the woman, then snaked along the ground, licking at Anton’s ankles. Terror held her in place as the smoke’s cold black breath drew closer. She had to get away! If the smoke touched her, she would die! She tried to scream but no sound emerged from her throat. Eerie laughter rose from the midst of the smoke. She looked to her father for help but he seemed unaware of the danger. She had to get away! Heart pounding, she opened her mouth, terror releasing the scream that had been trapped in her throat…
And woke to the sound of her own screams ringing in her ears.
Sitting up, she glanced around, relieved to find herself in her own room, in her own bed. She was relieved that it had only been a nightmare, though it had been the most realistic nightmare she’d ever had. For some reason, a nightmare she’d had as a child popped into her mind. It was a dream she remembered clearly, even after all these years. In her dream, she had gone into her parents’ bedroom early in the morning and climbed into bed between them. She had tried to awaken them, but they hadn’t moved, hadn’t been breathing. Terrified to think that they were dead, she had run back to her own room and pulled the covers over her head. When she told her father about it later, he had assured her that it had only been a dream, but for the longest time, she had been convinced it had actually happened.
But dreams were dreams and couldn’t hurt you. Shaking off the last vestiges of her nightmare, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
She felt better when she emerged from her shower fifteen minutes later, her hair freshly washed. She dried her hair, applied her makeup, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. She stripped the sheets from her bed, carried them downstairs, and put them in the wash.
As usual, the house was clean and quiet. She went into the kitchen in search of food, but she wasn’t really hungry, so she opted for tea and toast.
When she finished eating, she washed her dishes, then sat at the kitchen table, wondering what to do the rest of the day. Cara usually worked on Saturday, but the library was closed today while the floors were being refinished and wouldn’t open again until Tuesday.
Maybe she would drive into town and take in an early movie, or maybe she would go shopping—not that she needed anything. She had enough clothes and shoes to outfit a dozen women. Still, she liked shopping…and one of her favorite stores was located on Seventh Street, only a few blocks from Vince’s garage.
Happiness bubbled up inside her at the thought of seeing him again. Before she could talk herself out of it, Cara grabbed her keys and her handbag and hurried out the door.
&n
bsp; Di Giorgio’s car followed her down the driveway.
She had butterflies in her stomach when she pulled up in front of Vince’s garage. It was a large corner building, with the entrance on Seventh Street. She sat there a moment, wondering if he would be happy to see her. Maybe he wouldn’t like her dropping in unannounced when he was working. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Taking the keys from the ignition, she got out of the car. There was a side door that led to an office. The door was closed. She discovered it was locked when she tried to open it. Maybe he was in the garage.
She walked around the corner to where the service bays were, but this door was closed, too. Perhaps he didn’t work on Saturdays, or maybe he was out picking up car parts or out to lunch.
Shoulders slumped in disappointment, she returned to her car. She waved at Di Giorgio as she slid behind the wheel, then drove to her favorite dress shop where she picked out a slinky black dress for her next date with Vince, whenever that might be, and a pretty pink silk dress to wear Sunday night.
She drove by the garage again when she finished shopping, but it was still locked up tight. Heaving a sigh of disappointment, she motioned for Di Giorgio to pull up beside her.
“I’m bored,” she said. “Do you want to go to a movie?”
“Whatever you want, Miss DeLongpre.”
“Okay, come on. I’ll buy the popcorn.”
It was dusk when Cara returned home. The sound of the upstairs shower told her that her parents were awake.
She tossed her handbag and packages on the sofa, then went into the kitchen. She had stopped at her favorite Italian restaurant on the way home. She didn’t like eating out of the take-home containers, so she transferred the lasagna to a plate, along with a couple of bread sticks, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and sat down to eat.
As usual of late, her thoughts turned to Vince. She had driven by his garage again after the movie, but he hadn’t been there.
She was rinsing off her dishes when her mother entered the kitchen.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, darling. How was your day?”
“It was okay. I went shopping and then Frank and I went to the movies.”
“And what did you buy?”
“A couple of dresses. Wanna see?”
“Of course.”
Going into the living room, Cara opened the boxes and held up each dress in turn. “What do you think?”
“I think that black one could get you into all kinds of trouble,” Brenna said. She motioned for Cara to come and sit beside her. “Your father tells me you’re in love.”
“I might be.”
“Does he make your heart sing? Do you think about him every minute of the day?”
Cara nodded.
“Dream of him at night?”
Cara nodded again, and then frowned, remembering the horrible dream she’d had the night before.
“I hope we get to meet him soon.”
“Me, too.”
“Be careful, sweetheart. Don’t go too fast. Do you know what I mean?”
“Mom, I’m a big girl. I don’t need a lecture on sex.”
Brenna took Cara’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I guess I should have given it to you sooner. You just grew up so fast.” She shrugged. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know.” Cara kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Your father and I are going out for a walk,” Brenna said. “We won’t be long. Are you going out tonight?”
“I don’t think so.”
“All right, dear. We’ll be back soon. Maybe we can play cards or something.”
“Okay.”
Brenna hugged her daughter, then left the room. Roshan was waiting for her by the front door.
Outside, Brenna and Roshan moved quickly and silently through the shadows. The downtown district was always a good place to hunt. As usual, they chose a young couple, took what they needed, and sent the pair on their way.
“Cara’s growing up,” Brenna remarked as they strolled back toward home.
“I think she’s grown,” Roshan said dryly.
“I guess I mean she’s maturing, changing. I can feel her distancing herself from us. I don’t like it.”
Roshan put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “I don’t, either, but there’s nothing we can do about it.” He wasn’t sure what he would do to the man she fell in love with. The thought of any man taking her away…He knew it was the natural way of things, for a young woman to marry and leave home. He just wasn’t sure he could allow it.
“Do you think we’ve been good parents?” Brenna asked. “Did I make a mistake, bringing her home all those years ago?”
“Here now, stop that. We’ve raised a beautiful, well-adjusted daughter. She’s smart and resourceful, and…”
“But she doesn’t really have any friends except for Sarah Beth. A young girl should have friends.”
“Maybe it’s time we let her invite people to the house.”
Brenna’s eyes widened. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“Our lair is secure. I don’t think there’s anything to fear.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’ve been overly protective of her for nothing.” She smiled up at him. “I want to share every moment we can with her, while we can.”
Cara was surprised by her parents’ announcement. “But why the sudden change?” she asked, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“Your mother and I have decided we were being selfish, refusing to let you invite your friends over.”
“That’s great, Mom. Dad.” She hugged them both. Of course, she didn’t really have any friends her age except for Sarah Beth. Most of the friends she’d had in high school had moved away or she had lost touch with them. Still, it was nice to know she could bring company home if the occasion ever arose. Company like Vince…
They were about to sit down and play Canasta when the doorbell rang. Roshan looked at Cara. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No.”
Looking thoughtful, he went to answer the door.
Vince rang the bell again, thinking this was probably the stupidest thing he had ever done, but he had been yearning to see Cara since he woke that evening and the yearning had only grown stronger.
He fought down a sudden sense of panic as the door opened.
The vampire who answered the door was tall and lean with powerful shoulders and long limbs. His hair was as black as the ace of spades, his eyes a bold midnight blue set beneath straight black brows. His skin was pale though not sickly looking—more like that of a healthy man who didn’t spend a lot of time in the sun. Preternatural power rolled off him in waves. Coming here suddenly seemed like a really bad idea.
“Who are you?” the vampire asked. “What are you doing here?”
Vince squared his shoulders and thrust out his chin. He had the feeling the man could squash him with a look. It wasn’t a feeling he liked.
“I’m Vince,” he said, his tone more belligerent than he had intended. “I came to see Cara.”
“Is my daughter expecting you?”
“No.” Damn, Vince thought, he’d been right. The vampire was her father.
Roshan glanced over his shoulder to find Cara standing behind him, her eyes wide. Roshan swore under his breath. Of all the bad luck! He had no sooner told the girl she could have guests than one came calling, and not just any guest, but a vampire! And not just any vampire, but the one whose presence he had sensed before, the one who had been in Cara’s room. He looked at his daughter, his eyes narrowing. Was there more going on here than Cara had told him? Did she know Vince was Nosferatu?
“Roshan?” Brenna called, coming up behind him, “what’s going…” She came to an abrupt halt, her gaze moving quickly between her husband and the young man standing on the doorstep. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Roshan replied curtly. “Cara has a visito
r.”
“Mom, Dad, this is Vince Cordova,” Cara said, smiling as she moved toward the door. “I told you about him.”
“Oh, dear,” Brenna murmured.
“Is something wrong?” Cara asked. She looked from her parents to Vince and back again. Tension crackled in the air. It crawled over her skin like the tickle of static electricity, though she could find no reason for it.
“Cara, I should like a few minutes alone with your young man,” Roshan said, his gaze still resting on Vince’s face. “We’ll join you shortly.”
“Dad…”
“Come, Cara,” Brenna said, and taking her daughter by the hand, she led her into the other room.
Roshan stepped out onto the front porch and closed the door behind him. He was immediately struck by the power of the young man standing in front of him. Though the man was young in the life, he exuded the strength of a much older vampire. Such power could only be passed on by the ancient ones. “Who made you?”
“I don’t remember her name. It was kind of hit-and-run, if you know what I mean?”
“Was it Mara?”
Vince frowned. The name sounded familiar, but so much of that night was hazy in his mind “It might have been,” he allowed. “Does it matter?”
Mara, of course, Roshan thought. She was the oldest of their kind, a law unto herself. No one knew how old she was, when she had been made, or who had made her. There was speculation that she had been made in the valley of the Nile during the reign of Cleopatra. It was said that she was truly immortal, that she was impervious to blade or stake, and, perhaps most amazing of all, that the sun no longer had any power over her.
“What are you doing here, in my town?” Roshan asked.
“Your town?”
“My town.”
Vince shrugged. “I was passing through, saw it, liked it. You got a problem with that?”
“As a rule, I don’t allow other vampires to reside in my territory, especially disrespectful young punks who don’t ask my permission to stay.”
“Well, pardon me all to hell. I didn’t know I had to ask.”
“Mind your manners, whelp. You’ve been one of us less than a year. You still have a lot to learn.”
Amanda Ashley - [Children of the Night 02] Page 7
