Blood Haven: Year Three: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

  My hope is to combine teleportation with transformation. I don’t know if it’ll work, but maybe, just maybe…

  I try to embalm my uncle to me, to try to carry him as bats too, and I can. I can feel him shift into the bats as I am, but the moment I teleport myself as a test over to another spot in Hell, I realize I’ve left my uncle behind.

  My bats reforge into myself, and I turn back to my uncle, who is also now standing as himself. Tears fall down my cheeks once more as I race over to him and embrace him for the last time.

  “I thought… I hoped…”

  “I can’t go with you,” he says, “but my sword can.”

  He kisses my forehead, wipes away my tears, and then hands me the blade.

  “Go on now,” he urges. “Don’t forget what I’ve taught you, and you’ll be able to move mountains.”

  “Maybe,” I say doubtfully.

  “Oh, and what’s your professor of Elemental Control again?”

  “Professor Sheeba Serrano.”

  “That’s right. Don’t you forget to have her make good on her promise to teach you how to create a storm.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Because you’re a storm yourself, a true threat, a force to be reckoned with.” He kisses my forehead again. “Go now before you lose your nerve.”

  I close my eyes, and I make the jump, teleporting back into my body.

  I’m dazed, jarred, unable to focus. My body is mine again, but something isn’t quite right. There’s a disconnect. I feel so very weak after the strength and power I felt in Hell, and my eyelids don’t want to pry open. My ears just hear a faint buzzing, and then I can hear it.

  My heart beat.

  It’s beating far slower than anything living can truly survive on, but it’s enough. It’s a start.

  “Aren’t you going to at least try to attack me? Give me some sport!”

  My father. He’s here, wherever here is, and he’s talking to who?

  I can hear the sound of flesh against flesh, of blow after blow, my father’s scorned laughter. My head finally rolls to the side, and I can just squint enough to see Julian.

  My Julian.

  He’s fighting my father, and anyone can plainly see that my father is toying with him. At any moment, my father will stop this farce of a battle, and he will end my love.

  No. I did not claw my way out of Hell to watch my love be taken from me!

  With a grunt instead of the war cry I aimed for, I try to stand. My body refuses to cooperate, so I instead change tactics and teleport myself to standing. Rocks scatter as I misjudge my distance to the wall, and my back slams against the cave wall.

  Those rocks strike the ground, sounding as loud as firecrackers.

  My love sees me first, and his features light up.

  My father turns second, and Julian, he uses that split second to slash my father’s face. Black blood oozes from the wound.

  My father slowly turns back to face my husband, and I fling out my hand, forcing Julian back to safety and out of my father’s vile clutches.

  “Romelia!” Julian cries.

  “Romelia.” My father mutters my name like a curse.

  “My love. Father,” I add after a beat.

  “You’re alive!” Julian says.

  Not quite, I don’t think. I can feel Hell yet. I’m not quite removed from its grasp, but maybe that’s always the case. Maybe the smog of the place will always be on me, but that’s all right. It’s just a tie to my uncle, the one I wish had raised me. Maybe then I would feel as Julian does about his family.

  My father shifts slightly so he can watch us both, and while I couldn’t teleport my uncle, and I don’t bother to try and risk failing to teleport Julian, I instead teleport myself over to him. He wraps his arms around me, hugging me, holding me up, and I don’t mean to, I don’t, but I might siphon some of his life force.

  “Take whatever you need from me,” he murmurs before kissing my temple. “All I have is yours. Do you need blood?”

  “Maybe.” I lick my lips. “You’ve already spilled some.”

  He follows my gaze to my father.

  “Teleportation,” my father muses. He licks his lips. Some of the blood from the wound on his cheek has trailed down there. “You’ve been learning some of your demonic abilities after all.”

  “Imagine that, Father. I’m not an old dog, and I can learn some new tricks.”

  Father lets out an impressive roar and rushes toward us. Julian nods to me, and he shifts to the left as I go right. Our claws rack against Father’s side, and when he goes to grab me, I teleport around to his back, swipe a hand against his bloody cheek, and then teleport to where my body had been when I came back from Hell. Father whirls around, and I wiggle the fingers of my clean hand at him in a mocking way as I lick his blood from my other hand.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” I tease. “Come on. Aren’t you going to at least try to attack me? Give me some sport!”

  Father lets out another roar, but he adjusts his clothes and doesn’t bull rush us. He’s thinking, biding his time, trying to come up with a game plan that will work in his favor. He’s not teleporting himself, which is good, but I’m still wary. The more I reveal to him that I know, the more he’s going to be willing to use against us. If I can make him think teleportation is the only demonic ability I possess, he won’t try too many of the others. He won’t feel the need to.

  Uncle’s sword has been lying on the ground, underneath my body when I came to, and I almost don’t want to draw attention to it. My gaze fixed on Father, I tap my foot and hope that Julian sees the weapon. To cover my action, I stalk toward Father.

  “No hug, no kiss? No expression of joy that your daughter is back?” I demand coldly.

  "My daughter, who immediately sides with a werewolf against me and fights me, wishing to end me," he snaps.

  “Can you blame me? You were glad I was dead!”

  "You have been a thorn in my side since you were born!" he gripes. "You were to have been a son, a legacy. You were to rule the world, to dominate, but no. You had to only be a daughter, but instead, you had to turn into a lovesick schoolgirl who married a werewolf behind her father's back when he had aligned her with a vampire—"

  “A vampire he was going to kill after pinning your murder on that vampire,” Julian cuts in. “Your father was going to kill you on your wedding night.”

  “Now, isn’t that nice?” I mock. “What a wedding present!”

  “You do deserve a wedding present,” Father says. “It’s a bit delayed, granted, but I can still kill you.”

  Father teleports behind me, but I'm ready, whirling around, my hands going up to reach for his temples. He grabs my wrists, but that doesn't matter because I touch his arms, and I siphon as much of his life force as I can, draining him.

  He gapes at me as he yanks himself free of my grasp. Father even staggers back a step, and I grin, licking my lips, feeling far more satiated than blood has ever made me.

  “What’s wrong, Father?” I purr. “You didn’t expect me to learn just one ability, did you? No, you thought I was dead and gone and no longer an issue. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if one of us is going to kill the others, it’s not going to be me dying again. It’s your turn to go to Hell.”

  Again, Father readjusts his clothes as if that is some kind of armor that can protect him. Although my uncle’s never mentioned this ability to me before, I can find my demonic senses tingling, and as before, I can sense my father’s life force even though I’m not actively touching him. What’s more, I can sense his mind.

  And then, I’m inside his mind.

  Telepathy.

  My father’s mind is probably a scary place to be, but I’ve been in Hell, and while my uncle shielded me from the worst it has to offer, I now shield myself and focus on my father’s current thoughts instead of searching the far recesses and corners of his mind and memories.

  What else does she know? Empathy? Not tha
t she can use my emotions against me. Cryokinesis? Pyrokinesis? Most likely. She’s a vampire. She’ll be too frightened to even attempt to use fire. Or maybe she’ll know I think that and did learn how to master it! Curse her! How can it be that I never realized she knew so much already? She’s a master! How did that happen? And right under my nose.

  I do my best not to smirk. Julian slowly lifts the sword, but I barely shake my head. My father’s thoughts are flying, and his thoughts barely form in seconds.

  Photokinesis? Creating and emitting light might not stop her. Merely stun her. What about paralysis inducement? I might not be able to paralyze her, but if I get to him… If she’ll allow me to… I should probably handle her first, though. Then again, there’s possession. If I possess the boy… Ah, but there was that bit with reanimation gone wrong. Maybe I should try that.

  Father’s thoughts are over, his plan formulated, and he teleports to Julian, to touch him, to paralyze and possess him.

  But I already spoke to Julian.

  Telepathy can work between those whom vampires have exchanged blood with, and it’s that much stronger of a connection between Julian and myself because we’re married.

  And what I know, Julian knows.

  So when Father teleports to Julian, landing behind my love, Julian already has the sword pointing backward.

  Julian darts backward, and I replace him, teleporting there, yanking out the sword and severing off my father’s head before slamming the sword hilt-deep into my father’s chest.

  It’s over.

  It’s done.

  My father is dead.

  Only… I came back from Hell.

  Will my father be able to as well?

  Chapter 26

  Romelia

  My father’s body slinks to the ground, and his head rolls until a foot stops it. I look up to see the foot’s owner.

  My mother.

  She picks up his head, races forward, moving too quickly for me to see what she's doing, but there is a glint of silver in her hand, and she stabs my father with a silver blade clear through his head to his chest. Her hands come together, and my father's body and head turn to ashes. A sudden gust of wind, maybe conjured by my mother, sweeps his ashes until all that's left are Uncle Argon's sword, the silver blade, and some blood staining the cave ground.

  “Mother?” I gape at her. My hand trembles so much that I unthinkingly open and close it.

  Julian moves to stand beside me and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back once, twice, three times, and he does it back four times.

  I love you.

  I love you too.

  I beam at him, but I’m so utterly confused. “Mother?” I repeat.

  She wordlessly points to the silver blade. I pick it up and examine the hilt. It's made of clear quartz and labradorite, the same as the talisman that I used to protect against demonic influence.

  I gasp. “Did this protect me from whatever happened to Tyra?” I wonder aloud.

  “It’s rather likely,” my mother says wearily. “It seems that living vampires who do not accept their demonic part, which is more than you may think, well, they become quite susceptible to the dark arts even if they wish for the opposite. There is darkness in the world that can find a vessel in such living vampires.”

  “And Tyra was one of them.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I wasn’t because of the talisman.”

  Mother nods.

  “That silver blade,” Julian cuts in. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “You wouldn’t have because it was made in the early eighteen-hundreds to ward against demons.” Mother eyes me. “It’s the same cursed weapon we used on Argon.”

  “Father’s brother,” I murmur.

  “You met him?”

  I nod.

  “How is he?” Mother asks, her tone far softer than I would have thought possible.

  “He’s… I wish he had been my father,” I whisper.

  “Hindsight is perfect clarity, and I wish I had fallen for Argon instead of Magmar. Maybe then things would have been different, but then if Argon had been the father, we would have had a different daughter or maybe a son.” Mother heaves a terrible sigh. “I suppose everything happens for a reason. I just wish… I realized a long while ago how wrong Magmar was for me, but I had been a prisoner. He threatened me, threatened you… I couldn’t stop him, and I know that by trying to protect you, I had no choice but to hurt you, and I hope one day that you can forgive me.”

  “Maybe I can,” I say slowly. “You can start to earn my forgiveness by helping to end Father’s work.”

  Mother nods and holds out her arms.

  I take a step toward her and falter, falling to one knee. My body, it’s not listening to me anymore, and I can’t teleport into her arms either.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice hardly a whisper. I stare at Julian and my mother as fright fills me. I’m terrified.

  “I think I might know,” Julian says. “Professor Marius. He called and told me about blood rising. He was doing some research, and he said as long as we had your body that we might be able to get you back, but you are back. What’s going on?”

  I can feel my hold on my body slipping away. The pull of Hell is strong, almost too strong. The pull is trying to drag me back to Hell, and I don’t think that even if I could teleport again, that it’ll be enough to keep me here, alive, in my body. I’m strong, stronger than I’ve ever been, but I’m not strong enough.

  “Blood rising,” I whisper. “What is that? Where is he? Maybe…”

  Julian just hangs his head.

  Sorrow grips my heart, and my hold on my body slips that much more. I’m dying all over again.

  “Blood rising,” my mother murmurs. “Yes, yes, that should do it. It’s old magic, very old, and it won’t work on all vampires, but with your parentage, yes, it should happen.”

  “How?” Julian cries. He’s clinging to me as I slump in his arms. I want to hold him back, but I can’t move my arms. It’s all I can do to remain anchored in my body. My soul is trying to zap back to Hell, and this time, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave again.

  “You’ll have to trust me,” my mother says. “After everything I’ve done, I understand if you don’t—”

  “I… I trust…”

  Mother nods. “We’ll have to burn your body.”

  “Are you insane?” Julian shouts.

  “Hush,” I tell him. “I love you, and I love your fire, but let’s listen, okay?”

  He nods, and three tears drip from his face onto mine.

  “A destroyed vampire’s ashes can be brought back to life through blood magic,” Mother states. “Vampires are creatures of blood, after all. I think I know all of the incantations—”

  “You think,” Julian spits out bitterly. “We can’t rely on your thinking you know the incantations. If you get it wrong—”

  "I don't need my son-in-law running his trap right now," Mother snaps. "I know you probably think of me as a monster-in-law, but I need to concentrate."

  “Any… blood?” I murmur.

  “The blood does matter,” Mother concedes. “A human’s blood would leave you as powerless as a newborn. My blood would make you stronger than you are now. Let’s see… elf or fairy blood would bring you back as you are now. The strongest blood of all would be—”

  “Werewolf,” I whisper.

  “No.” Mother frowns, lines appearing on her forehead, aging her a great deal. “No, a dragon’s actually.”

  “What about a dragon shifter?” Julian asks eagerly. “We know one. We can go and—”

  “How far away?” Mother asks.

  “An hour-hike from Silver Ironwoods but we weren’t moving quickly, and—”

  Mother shakes her head, her lips pursed. “I’m afraid that’s too far away. We don’t have any choice. We need to do this and now. If we wait until she dies again, I don’t know if the magic will be strong enough to allow her soul to escape pe
rmanently from Hell’s clutches.”

  “Julian’s blood,” I murmur as forcefully as I can. “Please.”

  Julian looks to my mother. “Do it.”

  “I have no idea how a werewolf’s—”

  “We’re mated. We’re married. I love her, and there’s no stronger bond in all of the world than love and life,” Julian says firmly. He kisses my forehead and squeezes my hand three times.

  I wish I could squeeze back four times, but I can’t.

  “This…” Mother chokes out a strange gargled sound. Is she that upset? “This will hurt. I’m so sorry.”

  Mother yanks me out of Julian’s arms. In seconds, she has me covered in flames. I can feel every part of me burn on fire, and it’s painful, yes, but I don’t waver, watching Julian. He’s mouthing, “I love you,” over and over again, and that makes it all bearable until the fire, the heat, the flames, the smoke… it claims me, and once again, I expire.

  And then, rising from my love’s blood, I’m standing where the fire claimed me.

  Julian plows into me, squeezing me, drawing my body as close to him as possible, his lips on my cheeks, my nose, my lips, my neck, kissing me all over my face.

  “Are you back for real this time?” he murmurs, brushing my hair back and cupping my face before kissing me again so that I can’t answer him.

  Breathless, I laugh and put a hand on my back even though I lack the willpower to push him away. For a moment, I reflect and try to feel that dreaded terribly icy claw of Hell that tried to reach for me.

  It’s gone. It’s completely gone.

  Before, when I first came back, I didn’t know what to look for, what to feel for, but now, I do.

  And it’s gone, blissfully gone.

  “I think Mother did it,” I murmur.

  Abruptly, I glance around and realize only Julian and I are in the cave.

  “Where did she go?” I ask.

  Julian nods toward the waterfall. “She left, but I don’t think she’s far away.”

  “I need to talk to her,” I say, but I make no move to leave his side.

  “You can talk to her in a minute, can’t you?” he whispers, nuzzling me, brushing his nose back and forth against mine.