Midnight Soul (32 page)

“We feel it too,” Lavinia told her. “From
each other…and you.”

“You come from a long line of witches,”
Valentine put in, this gaining her Franka’s attention, and her
altered expression showing unconcealed surprise. “The last, not a
very good one. Sadly, she didn’t share this proud heritage with you
so that you both could enjoy the satisfaction of having such,
ma
sorcière
. But as you stand with two of your own with the same
noble lineage, we will teach you exactly this.”

“I’ve never been proud of anything to do with
my
noble
lineage,” Franka shared.

“This is because your lineage was superior as
self-decreed, not noble, save the magic it offers the Freys and
Drakkars it produces,” Valentine explained.

Franka nodded her understanding of this then
asked, “Will all future sessions such as this be conducted in the
dead of night, thus the worst of any day’s chill, and carry on a
good deal of time? If so, I’ll be forewarned for them and dress
warmer.”

Valentine had the odd desire to laugh out
loud.

Oh, but she liked this witch. She liked her
very much.

“She’s impatient,” Lavinia noted with kindred
humor.

“I’m cold,” Franka returned but took a breath
and went on, her voice lower, her gaze going between them, direct
and steady. “And when this is done, I can be done with her.”

She could indeed.

And that should be seen to immediately.

“Then let us delay no longer,” Valentine
decreed.

She looked to Lavinia and nodded.

When she did, Lavinia turned her gaze to
Franka.

“Magic is nature. Nature is magical,” she
began to enlighten their charge. “What you have flowing through
you, millennia ago, was drawn from the earth. From the sky. The
air, the dirt. From the seas, the winds, the rains, the rays of the
sun. Our originators worshipped these things, walked, breathed,
sowed, all with reverence. The elements shared their beneficence
for this veneration, offering them power, allowing them to
manipulate the magicks they celebrated, to internalize them, to
utilize them. And more, they strengthened them through sisterhood,
rewarding loyalty, building them along magical lines, enhancing
power when used amongst other sisters, communing with them.”

“Covens,” Franka whispered.

“Indeed.” Lavinia smiled. “And here,”
Valentine felt Lavinia’s hand tighten, knowing her other did the
same with Franka’s, “we sisters stand, in nature, in magic, and
now, Franka, my sister-witch, my daughter, my mother, my ally, my
friend, I bid you to feel the cold. Feel the snow beneath your
boots. The sting of ice in the air against your skin. The cool
freshness of it in your nose, down your throat, in your lungs. The
strength of the adela growing in the nurturing embrace of the
earth. The whisper of the gentle wind in your ear. Close your eyes,
my friend, and open your senses. Feel the magic all around you.
Celebrate it for it is beauty, and the fact that beauty lives
inside you.”

Valentine watched Franka close her eyes.

When she did, Valentine did the same.

It was time.

“We are one,” Valentine declared quietly.

“We are one,” Lavinia repeated after her.

Valentine squeezed Franka’s hand as a
prompt.

“We are one,” she whispered, taking her
cue.

“We are earth,” Valentine stated.

“We are earth,” Lavinia repeated.

“We are earth,” Franka said.

“We are air,” Valentine decreed, her voice
rising.

“We are air,” Lavinia echoed, her voice doing
the same.

“We are air.” Franka followed suit.

“We are the sea,” Valentine said, now on a
low cry, the winds through their words kicking up as that element,
too, celebrated the power in that glade. The cold now biting, their
heavy cloaks beginning to sway, their hair getting mussed, and
after she spoke, her witches followed with the same words.

And with each additional chant, their voices
carried into the air louder and louder, the pine rustling, the
powder of snow under their feet catching in the wind and drifting
up, swirling around them.

“We are wind.”

“We are rain.”

“We are the rays of the sun.”

And on this decree, the three witches started
chanting together. Franka drawn into the magic through her sisters,
knowing the words by instinct, their voices ringing straight to the
heavens, their words carried up on tufts of wind and whirls of snow
glittering in the moonlight.

“We are the light of the moon. We are
power
. We are
strength
. We are the
dark
. We
are the
light
. We are
magic
.
We
…
are
…
sisters!
”

And with that, a burst of emerald, grass
green and sapphire shot in a twisted circle from their boots into
the sky, and the three women were thrown back several steps. Losing
their connection, they opened their eyes to see the glade around
them swirling with wafting clouds of greens and blue shimmering off
the gentle, floating flurries settling around them.

But Franka was standing, hands lifted before
her, blood-red sparks glinting from them, illuminating her face, a
face now tainted with alarm.

“Do not fear, Franka,” Lavinia said gently,
again edging close. “She burns away. Your sapphire soul is good,
it’s strong, it’s pushing out the wickedness and spite. It won’t
take long, it’ll cause no pain and then it will be gone.”

Lavinia was quite right and was proved so
when, in mere moments, the last of the red sparked with trails of
cobalt until there was nothing but blue, and finally, the glimmers
died away.

Valentine and Lavinia stood silent as Franka
remained still and staring at her hands.

It took time but she eventually lifted her
head.

And Valentine felt the soft curve lift the
corners of her mouth as she saw the wonder in her sister’s
expression.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked
quietly, feeling that same beauty. The beauty she felt any time she
called up her craft or was around a sister using hers. The tingle
of it on her skin. The warmth of it through her insides. The thrill
of it up her spine. The heat of it in her sex. The sumptuous taste
of it down her throat. The glorious energy of it in her
fingertips.

Oh, but it was good her companion was waiting
for her at the cottage and she had planned what she had planned, as
for once she could take these feelings and exalt in them just as
she should do, joyously and uninhibitedly.

“It’s…well, nothing like I’ve ever known,”
Franka replied.

“But beautiful, yes?” Lavinia prompted.

Franka shook her head and Valentine felt her
brows draw together.

“That isn’t the word,” Franka explained,
crossing her arms at her front. Not protectively, she’d curled her
hands around her biceps and was stroking them as if she was trying
to keep the feeling close, hold it to her, not lose it. “There is
no word to describe this beauty,” she finished reverently.

Valentine relaxed and again smiled.

“I…” Franka went on and shook her head again,
this time shorter, sharper shakes, like she was clearing it, but
her gaze was steadfast on Valentine. “I thank you. I…
thank
you
, my sister,” she finished on a heartfelt whisper. “I would
not think I’d wish anything from her. Anything that was hers. But…”
she swallowed and finished, “you were right. I’ll remember this
night always, her end, my beginning.”

Oh yes, Valentine very much liked this
witch.

Both Valentine and Lavinia approached and all
of them again clasped hands.

“It was my honor,” Valentine shared the
truth.

“And mine to be here,” Lavinia added.

“I wouldn’t have chosen this, not if you
hadn’t advised it,” Franka told Valentine. “And you will have my
gratitude for as long as I remain breathing.”

“It’s most appreciated,” Valentine accepted
before she gave her a small smile. “And it’s also cold. We will
soon meet again. Your training now commences.”

It was not blinding, but there was excitement
in Franka’s eyes that she didn’t hide.

Progression.

Excellent.

“The sisterhood,” Lavinia said on a
tightening of her hand.

“The sisterhood,” Valentine repeated, doing
the same.

“The sisterhood,” Franka trailed, her hand
tightening and her lips twitching.

Valentine broke away.

“And now to warmth,” she declared,
and
warm, firm, naked male bodies with handsome faces, beautiful blue
eyes, charming smiles and mouths that could utter sweet words
,
she did not say.

“To warmth,” Lavinia agreed. “Until we see
you again, farewell, my friend.”

Valentine nodded to Lavinia and Franka.

It had been beautiful, as she knew it would
be. It had been an honor, as she knew as well. It would be
something, like Franka, and she was certain Lavinia, Valentine
would never forget.

But now it was done and time to go home.

Time to get warm.

Time to celebrate not only what had just
occurred but much more.

It was time to celebrate and continue to
nurture what was growing between her and…

Not just a body.

Not a trifle.

Not her companion.

With
Laurent
.

* * * * *

Franka

I was pacing my room, the only illumination
the fire that was also providing warmth.

My feet were bare, but not cold. No, I was
far too stimulated to even think of cold feet.

I should be in bed.

But the quickening inside had not died down.
I felt like I had too much energy. As if I could run around the
palace again and again (like Noc did nearly every day for reasons
he stated were, “keeping fit,” whyever anyone would do something
like
that
).

And I was just
bursting
to tell
someone all that had occurred and just how beautiful it was.

Unable to stop myself, regardless of the fact
it was late, I knew in my heart he wouldn’t mind, I dashed to the
door, opened it and hastened down the hall to Noc’s room.

I knocked. Not loudly, I didn’t want anyone
to hear.

Seconds later, I did it a little louder
because Noc surely was sleeping and I
did
want him to
hear.

I was still doing it when the door flew
open.

The firelight was illuminating Noc’s room as
well, not to mention the lamplight from the hall.

And thus I saw quite clearly that he was
shirtless, wearing a pair of loose, lightweight trousers with a
string tied under his navel to hold them up.

At the sight of all of it (though I had to
admit, my eyes got stuck on his flat stomach, the ridges that
defined it, and the trail of thick, black hair that led from his
unusual sleeping trousers to his navel), my mouth went dry.

“Baby, you okay?” Noc asked.

I jerked my eyes up to his face, saw his hair
mussed and fought the urge to lift my hands and smooth it.

Or muss it further.

With effort, I stayed focused.

“The ceremony was tonight.”

I was standing in the hall and then I was
not.

Noc grabbed my hand, yanked me into his room
and closed the door. He didn’t hesitate to guide me straight to the
fire to stand in front of it so it could warm us both.

Once he got us there, he also didn’t hesitate
to draw me near to him and say, “I know. That’s why I asked if
you’re okay. You look…” his head tipped to the side as his scrutiny
on my face intensified, “wired.”

“Wired?”

“Jazzed. Hyper. Agitated. Edgy. Alert.”

I leaned closer to him. “I do think I am all
of those, Noc. But in a good way.”

He continued to study my face. “So it went
okay?”

I nodded fervently. “It was…I was…”

How to explain the unexplainable?

There was no way except understanding Noc
would listen and do so closely even if I couldn’t find the right
words.

Thus I sallied forth, “I was very anxious. I
did not wish to have anything of hers but the word ‘absorb’…” I
shook my head. “That concerned me the most. To have her inside me
in any way…” I didn’t finish that thought but Noc’s expression told
me he understood what I was communicating so I carried on, “But it
was…I felt her and…and then it was me, it was what’s inside me…”
Again I couldn’t finish so I pulled slightly away, lifted up my
hand and whispered, “Here, I’ll show you.”

I focused on the quickening inside me and
that was all I had to do before I felt it surge up my spine,
through my frame, tingling in my scalp and fingertips and the blue
sparks drifted up lazily from my palm.

“Gotta say, sweetheart, as freaky as that is,
it’s still fuckin’ cool,” Noc muttered, and I looked from my hand
to his face, now illuminated in blue, making his eyes even more
extraordinary, his gaze riveted to my palm.

“It sparked red when it happened,” I shared,
and he looked to me. “When Valentine gave the magic to me. It was
her. It was Mother. I felt her. The ugliness. The darkness. But it
was me,” I lifted my hand, the blue still sparking, “that forced
her out. Took over. See?” My hand rose another inch. “That’s just
me. No red. All blue. It’s all mine. And look, Noc,” my hand rose
further but my voice lowered with reverence, “don’t you think it’s
beautiful?”

He only glanced back to my hand before his
gaze again caught mine.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “It’s fuckin’
gorgeous.”

I smiled at him.

He smiled back and his attention drifted
again to the sparks.

“Can I touch it?” he asked, and instantly I
closed my hand and the magic disappeared.

Noc returned his eyes to me.

“I don’t know much about it,” I explained
hastily as I didn’t want to hurt his feelings or deny him anything
he wished to have. “It could be dangerous and I don’t wish to harm
you.”