Bewitched, Bothered, and Bitten (28 page)

“So, how did he die?” he asked again. “Tell me the truth this time.”

I took a deep breath and released it slowly, anger, regret, and resentment swirling inside me. It wasn’t directed completely at Cornelius. No, a great deal of it was reserved for my father. “He was casting a black spell. It was meant to kill me.”

The Slayer lifted his hand again, touching my cheek. I had to forcibly control my flinch.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice full of understanding and sympathy.

This was what made soul eaters so dangerous. Even knowing that they would devour you from the inside out, you wanted their attention, their comfort, their love. You went willingly into the jaws of death.

I didn’t answer.

Cornelius looked over his shoulder at Dante. “You were there, were you not?”

My eyes flew to the warlock in surprise. I didn’t remember him. My memory of that night was muddled due to the trauma of watching my father seizing in agony as his body tried to fold upon itself. He nodded.

“Tell Kerry what happened,” The Slayer insisted.

Dante came forward, his stare never wavering from mine. “He was casting a spell to siphon off your power, not kill you. But you were frightened and crying. He changed his mind. He didn’t want to hurt you or traumatize you so he tried to call back the spell but the power had to go somewhere. Your father knew that, but he did it anyway. For you.”

On the edges of my mind, the memory floated by, my father looking at me with apologetic eyes, my sobs, and then his final words to me, “I’m so sorry, Kerbear.”

I felt tears fill my eyes. After the events of the last two days, I could no longer hold back the grief inside me. Even though I knew he was toying with me, I couldn’t contain the sadness.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “To hurt me?”

“Ah, no, dearest. Never to hurt you,” Cornelius whispered. “I want you to understand who your father truly was. He was a man that loved you.”

His words were further proof that he was trying to manipulate me. Despite my anger toward my father, I’d always known that he loved me. While she was alive, my mother insisted that he’d taken the wrong path and made mistakes but he had never, ever stopped loving me.

Believing that he was getting under my emotional armor, the soul eater moved in for the kill. “Black and white is a myth, Kerry. In our world, there are infinite shades of gray. Some dark, some light, but never truly pure.” When he saw that I was listening, he continued. “My people aren’t evil. We want what you want; unity. However, with the world as it is today, the strong must be in control in order to maintain that harmony. A firm guiding hand is exactly what both the humans and the rest of the supernatural creatures need.”

“Humans?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yes. Humans. Why should we hide what we truly are in fear that they will attempt to destroy us? Even with their weapons and numbers, we are superior. They are our food source and one does not invite a pig to eat at the dinner table. Especially not when ham is on the menu.”

Somehow I managed to hide my disbelief. This guy was batshit crazy. Either that or he’d been hiding under a rock for the last hundred years. The humans might not wipe us out if we were discovered, but they damn well would corral us into ‘testing facilities’. I’m sure the rest of my days would be spent in shapeless scrubs with daily injections and blood draws. No doubt, the U.S. government would see our value and attempt to replicate our strengths without any of the pesky side affects like turning furry once a month, drinking blood, or drawing down the moon.

“Why do you want me?” I asked, trying desperately to sound weak and vulnerable. It would be difficult to pull off the act, as I was accustomed to saying exactly what I thought.

“Do you honestly think the witches are the only side with a prophecy of their future? I have been waiting and preparing for you for centuries. It was foretold among the sin eaters that a witch of unimaginable power would rise, birthing a new era for our people. With each new generation of witches and vampires, I’ve selected those who will be most beneficial for the cause and groomed them. Twenty-five years ago, I thought that witch would be your father. Then you came into your power and I knew you were the one my people were waiting for.” He pressed his lips to my forehead and I fought the urge to gag. “You will be the mother of the new soul eaters and our descendents will rule.”

Dear Goddess, he took the prophecy literally. Had none of his advisors explained to him that prophecy must be deciphered? It was rarely as straightforward as that. Foretelling of the future was meant to bring enlightenment and prevent irreparable mistakes from being made. If they were basic instructions, then the profound understanding brought by the riddles in prophecy would be missed. One was supposed to reflect upon the words, look deeper than their superficial meaning.

I cleared my throat, still trying to sound timid. “What if I’m not the witch? I don’t think I can be what you need or want.”

Cornelius’ eyes changed. They hardened into two chips of blue glass. “Then I suppose I’ll have no use for you after all.”

In other words, I would be a dead woman.

I closed my eyes and prayed to the Goddess that I would either escape my binding spell or Finn and Conner would arrive with the cavalry before it was too late.

When I finished, I lifted my lids and gazed levelly at the soul eater and warlock in front of me. “Tell me more.”

A
t my words,
a satisfied grin spread across The Slayer’s face, but Dante watched me with hooded, suspicious eyes. Neither of them gave any indication they would free the rest of my body from the spell, so I took that to mean that they still didn’t trust me.

I waited for one of them to speak, cautiously pushing back at the binding spell, looking for weakness. It was difficult to maintain focus on the two vampires in front of me while using magic right beneath their noses.

Before Cornelius could continue, I cleared my throat. “Pardon me, but would it be possible for you to release me from the binding?”

He considered me momentarily. “I’m afraid that I can’t, Kerry. I’m not entirely convinced that you are on our side.”

I licked my lips. “Okay, I understand your concern, but I’m very uncomfortable and Sharon injured my wrist before we came here. Is there any way you can move me into a seated position?”

Though I could tell he wanted to say no, he wanted to convince me of his benevolence. Denying a simple request wouldn’t exactly make him look like a good guy. The Slayer looked to Dante, who nodded slowly. “Very well,” Cornelius sighed. “Dante would you please get Kerry a chair?”

The warlock did as he asked, walking around behind me to position the chair. I only hoped that my baggy sweatshirt covered the bulge of my phone in my back pocket.

Apparently, it did, because Dante recited the incantation and my body relaxed. I knew that they would be expecting me to make my move to escape in the next few seconds. Though I wanted to, I knew it would be suicide. Instead, I focused on the momentary weakness in the spell, poking and prodding with magic, stretching the parameters a bit.

The warlock pulled me down into the chair and my limbs became heavy again. I concentrated on moving my knee after he repeated the spell and it shifted slightly. I was gradually regaining control over my body, despite the binding.

My cell phone was a hard lump against my backside. I wanted to shift so that it wasn’t digging into my flesh, but I couldn’t. It would give me away.

I tilted my head back to look up at Cornelius. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

Suddenly, Dante’s head came up as though he heard a loud noise. If he did, he was the only one. My skin tingled as magic shimmered in the air and I realized what had happened. One of the warlock’s protection wards had been broken. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. Finn and Conner must have found me.

His head snapped around, his black eyes narrowing on me. “Where is it?” he asked.

I widened my eyes and tried to look innocent. “What?”

He snarled. “The charm, amulet, whatever they used to track you.”

“I don’t have anything like that.” I knew he would believe it was the truth because, technically, I wasn’t lying. I didn’t have a charm or amulet to help them locate me. All I had was my cell phone. Perhaps if Dante thought more like a modern witch than an archaic one, he would have checked.

Cornelius glided toward the door. “You stay here with Kerry. I’ll take care of our unexpected guests.”

I tried to ignore the slimy fingers of fear that trailed down my spine. Finn wasn’t weak or inexperienced and I knew he and Conner would have brought men. Cornelius left the room, silence in his wake.

I glanced at Dante, but he was staring at the wall, his eyes unfocused as though he were looking off into the distance. While he seemed distracted, I concentrated on flexing my power, trying to shrug off the spell. I squirmed in my seat, my limbs still heavy, but now under my control.

The floor shook slightly, bringing the warlock out of his trance. His dark eyes fixed on me. “You do realize that you can’t win, don’t you?”

“Pardon?”

He smiled coldly. “You may have fooled Cornelius for the moment, or at least given him the hope that you can be swayed, but I understand you better than you think, Kerry. A few kind words and playing to your resentment and love toward your father won’t change your mind about your loyalties. Especially after we killed your friend, Saundra, and the High Priestess.” His eyes gleamed. “I really must get the spell you used to hide your location. It was very effective. Otherwise, we would have been having this conversation last night over the dead body of your lover.”

I gritted my teeth, desperately wanting to choke the life out of the smug bastard, but I couldn’t give away the fact that the binding spell was weakening. Still, I filed away that information for later. Finn would be relieved to know that the location of his home had not been compromised. “You couldn’t find me? Are your powers so weak?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps that’s why The Slayer wants me….to replace you.”

“You’ll never abandon your coven. You’re too pure at heart. My master doesn’t understand that because your father wasn’t difficult to turn, especially after he got a taste of the dark.” He cocked his head to the side, reminding me of a bird of prey eyeballing its next meal. “I don’t see that in you. Even after you took the lives of my men, you didn’t seem as affected as your father was after he took his first life.”

I would bite my tongue in half before I admitted to Dante how tempted I had been by the enjoyment I felt after the death of his minions. I’d fought the shadow of my father’s descent into darkness my entire life, with the coven and with myself. I might have felt satisfaction at defending myself and my home from invasion, but I didn’t seek out that feeling again. I didn’t crave it or even wonder if I would ever feel it again.

Cornelius had been correct in one thing; the world was rarely black or white. Even the purest of hearts held a kernel of weakness, a fatal flaw. Be it envy, greed, or pride, any witch was susceptible.

Dante came closer to the chair where I was seated. “Perhaps I should just kill you now and save my master the trouble of trying to talk you into joining us when you obviously have no intention of doing so.”

I tried one more time to play innocent. “I don’t know what you’re-”

He snapped his fingers in my face and I stopped speaking. I kept my eyes lowered, using my eyelashes to hide the fact that I wanted to grab those fingers and break them.

Dante squatted down in front of me. “You and I both know you will never give in.”

I heard the door open and looked up. My eyes widened in shock when I saw Janice March slip into the room.

The warlock stood and turned. “Ah, the daughter of the traitor. Have you come to join your mother?”

Even I could see the sheer terror in Janice’s eyes and I knew she had come to help me, not her mother. I realized that this was the reason she wanted to speak to me after Belinda’s funeral ritual.

She squared her shoulders and tried to project confidence. “No. I’m here for my High Priestess.”

“Then you’ll join your mother in death,” Dante replied.

I could see that the words affected Janice like a physical blow. Without warning, she lashed out at the warlock.

He laughed and deflected the spell. “You know you’ll lose, yet you attempt to fight anyway. Perhaps I’ll keep your suffering to a minimum before you die.”

Knowing he was about to hit Janice with something nasty, I pulled power from somewhere deep within me and practically shoved it into her. Dante lifted a hand and his voice rang out in a single word incantation. Miraculously, my wild effort to protect Janice worked.

Her head fell back and she shrieked as I funneled a massive amount of magic into her body, murmuring a protection spell as I did so. Dante’s attack manifested into an explosion of light when it hit Janice.

When he understood why his strike was ineffective, the warlock turned on me. I didn’t have long. Desperate, I pulled back the power I’d thrown at Janice and began to fight the binding spell in earnest.