Had he gone insane? Had he died and was he now in hell? Something in the back of his mind confirmed to him the truth about what he had just seen really did happen. It was not dream. It was fact. His family was dead. He was dead. He clawed at his chest again, though his pulse was, indeed, still there.
The man shoved him off and brushed his collar with a peculiar look of disgust on his face. “It is not what you are now! It is what you’ve always been. You’ve been hiding it. From your family. From yourself. All of your questions will be answered in time.” He calmed, his pinched features relaxing. He folded his hands in front of him. “Your human family is dead. Killed by exactly the thing you have living inside you. A monster.”
“That’s not true!”
“I saved you. Brought you back from the door of death. But you are almost one of them, now. Half! Half of the very same thing that killed your sister!”
“You’re lying!” Nikolai spewed, his fists flying through the air. “I am not one of them! How can I be?” Nikolai could not control his broken heaving. “I don’t want to be one of them! Change me back! How do I change back?”
“You cannot simply change back,” the man scoffed. “You were born this way, weren’t you? You’ve always had powers you couldn’t explain. But I’ve helped them awaken within you a little bit more. In order to regain any sort of peace, it takes one to kill one. You must find the monster who has committed this crime to carry out your revenge.”
“Who is it? I will tear him into pieces!” Poisonous spit flew from Nikolai’s lips.
“I know who killed them, Nikolai.” A new chill was cast about the room as every syllable reverberated off the walls. It was a mix between a harsh wind and the purest sound of anguish he’d ever heard. Each word came out long and snake-like.
“But you never told me who you are. How can I trust you?” Nikolai’s voice shook as he struggled to keep his knees locked.
The man turned the mirror to him again. “Because…I want the same thing you do. Revenge.” A small smirk twisted up the corners of his mouth again.
“I demand to know who you are!” Nikolai ordered.
Angrily, the man lunged at him, growling, pinning Nikolai to the far wall. There was no way of escaping his strength and he cried against the struggle, his feet swinging around in the air. He couldn’t help but recall that things turned out much happier for the magical boy in his fantasy book series he’d been reading. Where was his awesome train ride to his awesome school of magic with his awesome friends? This sucked. In so many ways.
“You will demand nothing!” The man’s words were sharp and threatening. “I saved your life! I will be the one who makes demands.” He lowered his hand, causing Nikolai to tumble to the floor. Staring down his long nose at him, the Irishman asked, “Do you wish to avenge your family?”
Nikolai clumsily got to his feet again, brushing the debris from his T-shirt. “Of course I do.”
The man closed in on him, standing toe to toe, but he was at least a head taller.
“I know the very one who committed the crime. I can help you, but you’ve got to trust me.”
Nikolai frowned. He sensed something else. This strange person, whatever he was, didn’t seem to be the trust-worthiest individual. There was a catch.
“And what do you want out of me, then?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. “There’s something you need in return, right?”
The man’s eyes crinkled again. His tongue trailed over his upper lip. “A delivery. There is someone I need you to find—to bring back here. And I have the feeling…you already know exactly who I mean….”
Chapter 15
C I n d e r (Aiden and the CEMR pay visit to his cousin, Cinder in the Alps of Norway to form an allegiance to fight the dark. “My plan wages on with full force. I’ve sent a hornet into their bee’s nest. A mole. It’s only a matter of time before Valek is destroyed.”
B u t t o n s
Sarah stared up at the speckled sky, her knees curled to her chest, her breaths pluming out in clouds of milky fog. The snow falling around her was gentle and light. Quiet. She had the perfect view of the forest’s edge and part of the town square from her perch on the roof outside the second story window.
Upset, Charlotte had locked herself within Valek’s bedroom, and Sarah hoped maybe she’d fallen asleep. Rest was the only thing that could serve her now, until Valek came up with a real remedy. Maybe his convoluted scheme would work.
Sarah climbed out to the tranquil spot from the room where Dusana, Lusian, and the twins kept their things. In an oversized sweater, knitted mitts, and a pair of leg warmers, Sarah tried to meditate, but was distracted with knowing Valek too had been locked away within his office for hours. Brooding. Bloodletting.
From the corner of her vision, Sarah saw the yellow light from the master bedroom room flicker off, the golden spot it created on the snow going dark. There was no doubt Charlotte had cried enough tears to tucker herself out until morning at least.
Valek’s words were harsh, but then, the lingering threat was harsher. And fear mixed with ire never did create a prudent word.
Sarah sighed.
The sound of glass sliding against wood startled her, and she peered over her shoulder to find a familiar, smiling face of thread and burlap peeking out at her from the gloom of the house. Button eyes blinked behind a pair of thick spectacles.
She exhaled, unable to resist the smile his presence pulled from her. And just like that, Sarah’s snowy evening became a little warmer.
“S-save a spot f-f-for me?”
She patted the space next to her. “There’s always a spot for you, darling Edwin.”
“You sure? M-m-misfit I am?”
“Misfit or not.” She grinned as he clumsily hobbled over the frosted shingles, sitting next to her with his legs crisscrossed.
“Aren’t you c-c-cold?”
“Are you?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I’d never know if you were shivering or stammering,” she giggled.
“No, n-no. I c-can’t feel the cold.” His gaze dropped and so did his features.
“Valek and Charlotte are terribly sorry about what happened at the grand opening, you know?”
“N-n-never a w-worry. An-anansi sh-showed me the p-p-paper,” he grumbled in an undertone.
She frowned, resting her chin on her knees. Sighing deeply, she admitted, “I’m scared, Edwin. For the first time in a long time, I’m out of ideas. Charlotte’s sick. She’ll become worse and die if Valek doesn’t change her. But he refuses.” She closed her eyes. “I’m almost tired of talking about it.”
“S-s-so…let’s n-not talk about it.”
She looked at him.
“I f-find…when f-f-faced with a problem…s-sometimes…it’s better to w-w-walk away for a while. Come b-back with a fr-fresh head.”
“But we don’t have a while.”
“You’ve g-got a little wh-while,” he offered, smiling again. He put one of his burlap hands on her shoulder.
She considered that, gazing out into the forest. “I suppose you’re right.” Side-glancing at him, she noticed something amiss. “Oops. Your bow tie’s a tad crooked. Here.”
She leaned forward, working to straighten it for him. But she didn’t miss the way he tensed up, his back going rigid. She giggled, leaning away again.
“You are a strange fellow, Edwin. Where did you come from?” She meant the question to remain in her head, but instead, Edwin started sputtering.
“I-I-I-I-I…it’s a l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-long s-s-story—”
She hushed him, smoothing his hair. “Shh, Edwin. It’s all right. I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want—”
He blurted a few more stutters before taking a deep breath and going still again. “S-s-sorry…I w-wish I w-w-was easier t-to t-t-talk to….”
Sarah rolled forward onto her knees, her heart pattering quicker in her chest. “Oh, but Edwin! You are. You are the easiest person to talk to. In
fact, I love to talking to you!”
He sat up a little straighter again. “R-really?” He lifted his felt eyebrows.
“Of course!”
His whole face brightened, if that was even possible for a burlap-skinned fellow.
“You know, m-maybe you should g-g-go ask the other W-witches. In the b-boarding house on the edge of t-t-town. Th-they might know h-h-h-how to help.” Lifting his finger, he indicated the crooked, purple tower poking out from beyond the trees to the north.
Sarah gasped. Why hadn’t she considered that? After flipping through her new grimoire for every kind of question about how to help Charlotte, she always came up empty for an answer. But a Witch from a more advanced generation might know better.
“Edwin, you’re brilliant!” She pecked him on his cheek and he began sputtering incoherently again. Giggling, she said, “I’ll see you later. I’m going right now!”
Pulling her way back into the bedroom, she leapt over Sasha’s legs as he skimmed through Kafka’s Beschreibung eines Kampfe.
“Where are you off to?” His voice boomed after her like a passing locomotive.
“Running an errand!” she called.
“At this hour?” retorted the twins who were trying on their Yule gifts.
“Spell shop is open until three A.M. Be back before sunrise! Maybe someone there will know how to help our girl!” Wheeling into the library, she grabbed up her spell book, hugging it to her chest.
“Sarah! Look alive!” squawked Dusana.
She glanced up in time to catch the overcoat and the pair of boots she threw at her, tugging them on as fast as she could.
“Good luck!”
“Tell Valek where I’ve gone!”
“Valek doesn’t wish to be spoken to,” Dusana said as she followed Sarah into the foyer.
Sarah burst out through the front door and into the night, moving as fast as her short little legs could carry her through the snow.
When she was halfway down the path, a little voice called from behind her. “Hey! W-wait! W-w-wait for m-me!”
She turned in time to find Edwin clumsily shrugging on his own coat, racing after her.
“Really? You’ll go with me?” She beamed as he caught up with her.
“Of c-c-course! I don’t w-want you outside a-a-alone,” he admitted, puffing his chest and trying to look as valiant as possible.
Sarah hooked her arm around his shoulders. “Fine. But keep up and no fainting! Got it?”
They both laughed together and pressed on. She didn’t miss how much more at peace he seemed when she was nearby. The thought made something flutter in her tummy.
The two moved beyond the square and then east through several winding alleyways. The further they got from the center, the weirder and more sordid the shops around them became.
Purple and blue starlight—bewitchments, obviously—twinkled and swirled around dank bricks. Merry humming trilled out through an open window as they moved past a flat where an enchantress stirred something sinister in a large, bubbling vat. Apothecary windows advertised vials of eyeballs and animal feet. Little creatures skittered around their boots, hurrying to hide in the shadows. They moved too fast for Sarah to see what they were, but she knew they weren’t mice.
“The b-b-boarding house is a little w-ways further,” Edwin indicated.
In the colored light, Sarah noticed his peculiar expression. “Edwin? Something the matter?”
“Oh! Y-y-yes,” he began nervously, pressing his fingertips together. “E-E-Evangeline used to f-fix me up when s-s-somethin’ bad happened. Got s-some dark m-m-memories, is all.”
Sarah easily recalled the other Witch. Charlotte’s romantic nemesis, Evangeline, though Valek had destroyed her for betraying them all and revealing their location to the Regime. Charlotte once mentioned how Evangeline used to work the spell shop on the first floor of the Witch’s boarding house.
“I’m hoping some older generation Witch might prove helpful,” Sarah muttered to herself with her grimoire tugged snuggly under her arm. “Can’t seem to find a single word about mortal fixation in here—not much about Vampires at all, actually. All of its answers have been so cryptic.”
“Asking the r-r-right question is key.”
“You’re not the first one to tell me that.”
Enchanted ivy snaked up storm drains while purposefully-placed bubbles hovered near doorsills, bursting before recreating themselves again, swelling to great girth in the air. From one apartment overhead, operatic belting harpooned the tranquility of the evening. It rattled through Sarah’s eardrums, distracting her enough not to notice the poor cat’s tail. There was a harrowing shriek. A hiss. The thing darted off into an empty crate like a streak of lightning.
Edwin clutched his chest. “Wish you ch-chose daylight to m-m-make this visit.”
“No fainting! Like I said!” She clasped her hand to his shoulder.
Sarah had only heard of the Witch’s Spell Shoppe once before from Charlotte, who told her stories about when she went there to stock up on transportation and half-life spells. She remembered her saying it was the worst part of town, but as they passed a drunken warlock slumped near an overflowing bin, this side of town seemed to take on a much more fearsome quality than Sarah anticipated. A dark shadow whizzed near her head and she ducked at once.
“J-j-just a bat,” Edwin ribbed, chuckling.
Sarah’s heart thundered.
At last, they reached the oddest building in town. The first floor was the spell shop, of course. The façade was long, stone flags making up half the wall, the other half wood paneled by squares of misty glass. At the top of a few steps, a doorway was tucked within an alcove illuminated on either side by emerald-flamed torches stuck in wrought-iron brackets. Ferns grew in spirals from the top step, down over the ground. The sign hanging over the front door read OPEN in characters that looked less like actual letters and more like magic runes.
Sarah craned her head back to survey the rest of the cockeyed tower casting the alley in impenetrable shadow. The Witch’s boarding house. There were many thin windows, some illuminated with honey light, some dingy and even broken. The bricks were purple. From somewhere near the top floor she heard the shrillest cackle, a pop of electricity, and something explode.
“Do you really think someone here will know what to do?” Sarah squeaked.
“I c-caught a glimpse of that n-note Charlotte got. The o-one from the b-book. S-saw it before she f-f-fainted. It was ad-addressed from a place…A-Ablim, I think it s-said.”
“Abelim?”
Edwin shrugged. “You w-w-won’t know if you don’t a-ask.”
“Well, that horrid wench did well enough to keep you alive all your life, after all. As much as I hate to admit it, Evangeline seemed somewhat competent. I’m hoping her colleagues can at least help me with a few of these pieces…even if they don’t have the entire puzzle.”
Sarah ascended the steps and pushed through the shop door. A light bell announced their arrival. Her senses were hit with a wall of burning incense and sage. The floor was a dusty mahogany, layered over by rugs and runners of all colors and materials. A large stone hearth glistered against the north wall, a face carved into the mantle so that the fire appeared to roar within its great mouth. In the center of the room, a multi-tiered surface was cluttered with glass bottles filled with all sorts of curious brews. Rickety wooden stairs led up from the main part of the shop to a lofty platform, which displayed shelves of more spell books, tarot cards, pots of herbs, elaborate crystal wands, and other such paraphernalia. Near the shop counter, there was a glass case filled with sumptuous pastries, though eating one would surely result in some sort of mischief, Sarah was sure.
A large, fluffy cat with dark fur zapped by silver streaks gazed wide-eyed at them as they entered, his eyes like October suns. His whiskers jut out all over his head like radio antennae.
Sarah bent with one hand on her knee, the other reaching out toward the frazzled-looking cat.
“Here, kitty, kitty. Where is your Witch?”
In the very next moment, and with absolute dexterity, the cat leapt up from the floor, startling Sarah enough to fall backward against Edwin. They both landed with a heavy thud on their rears, dust from the old rugs swirling up around them. He settled on the potion table, not knocking over a single one of the glass bottles.
“Excuse me! I am not a cat!” he announced quite grumpily in a thick French accent. “I am a Shifter, if you please!”
“Oh!” Sarah was quite surprised, pulling off and helping Edwin back to his feet while he sputtered incoherently. “I didn’t realize. Pardon, Mr…”
“Etonne. There! You have my name, now please! Would you fetch my robe? It hangs there on the hook by the door!” His tail flicked and twitched around his feet.
“S-sure….” Sarah scrambled for the deep eggplant-colored robes, rushing them over to the cat.
“Place it on the floor. Fine. Now…turn around, please. I am not decent.”
Edwin tugged Sarah by the wrist, pulling her around to face the door. Behind her, she could hear stretching sounds. Bones cracking. Then, there was a muffled thud. Feet on carpet?
“Good. Thank you. How can I help you this evening?”
Both she and Edwin faced him again. Sarah analyzed the gray man in front of her swathed in the robe. Half his face was covered in the salt and pepper fur of the cat that had just been there moments ago, his beard and mustache frazzled out around his chin like a firework. His eyes remained their jewel-bright color, feline slits for pupils. His nails were still sharp too.
“A Shifter working in a potions shop?” Sarah raised her eyebrow.
“Watch your tone. My mother was a very gifted Witch. Eighteenth generation.” His glare slid down from her unruly bun to the tip of her boots. “I’d guess you’re merely a twelfth-gen, aren’t you?”
“Thirteenth,” Edwin chimed, hopping up on his toes.
“Not much better,” he sniffed.
Of Blood and Magic Page 21
