Possession of Souls (30 page)

Using my teeth, I ripped one of the bags open, taking a swallow for myself and briefly wondered how the coven could come up with enough blood for two demons.  I was going to need to go hunting on my own it looked like.  Portia needed this supply.

“Ugh, flat.”  I fought the urge to spew it from my mouth.  I missed her blood already.  I knew she would always taste good to me, but it would never be the same now.

I dipped my finger in the dark liquid and rubbed it across the inner side of her lips, hoping to allow the flavor to slowly rouse her back to attention.

She jerked as it ran between her teeth, and her eyes popped open almost instantly.  She turned her head, sniffing into the air and spying the bag, she sat up and grabbed for it quickly.

I moved it out of her reach, so she wouldn’t squirt it everywhere.

“Gently,” I admonished her.  “You can have it all, just try to stay calm.”

“Give it to me!” she screeched, lunging for it again.

I caught her by the wrist, and placed the bag in her hand.  “Don’t squeeze it or you’ll spill it.”

She yanked the bag to her mouth, guzzling the contents rapidly while I pulled out another and tore it open for her.  She took it too and quickly discarded the other to the side. 

We repeated this until there was no blood left.

“More,” she said, looking at me in anticipation.

“That’s all we have,” I replied, shaking my head, keeping my voice relaxed and soothing.  “The others will bring some again soon.  How are you feeling?”

“I want more!” she said, jumping to her feet.

I stood to face her.  “Portia, try to listen to me.  There isn’t any left.  What you’ve had should be plenty to hold you for right now.  There will be more.  But until then, we wait.  Just try to stay calm, and I will help you through it until then.  Okay?”

She screamed and launched at me again, her red eyes flaring, and all I could see in them was how much she despised me.

Three days had passed.  Three days of complete agony.  Three days of feeding her all the blood we could get our hands on.  Three days of restraining her, doing every spell and purifying ritual we could think of.

My heart sank to my toes as I finally allowed myself to admit the truth, permitted myself to see the pain and horror written in the eyes of the people around me.  The blood wasn’t affecting her at all.  She was just as feral now as she had been earlier.

I knew the madness.  I’d seen it with Mayla’s coven … even watched as they put someone down who couldn’t be controlled.  This coven knew it too, and to their credit, I never once saw condemnation in their eyes.  They didn’t pass judgment against me.

It didn’t matter.   I condemned myself, wishing I could send my soul to the furthest reaches of Hell to suffer the most excruciating agony that could be pronounced on one’s being.  But then I realized—I was already there.

They left me so I could be alone with her.

I faced the love of my life, barely recognizable now with her wild tangled hair and her dirty demon features.  “There’s no blood left, Portia.  That’s all there is for today.  I’ll get you more tomorrow,” I said, working to release her from the magical restraints she kept fighting against.  “I’m going to take these awful things off you now that the others are gone.  Try to relax, okay?”

I knew I was mostly talking to myself as she continued to glare at me from her wild, bloodshot eyes, and I found myself wondering if she remotely understood anything I was saying to her.

As soon as the manacles dropped away, she jumped from the chair and grabbed for me, digging her nails into my chest as she clawed at my shirt.  Shreds of it ripped as she drug them down my body, leaving trails of blood following in their wake.  I snatched her hands away and she snarled, leaning in to snap at me with her teeth, trying to bite me.

“Portia!” I yelled, trying to get her attention to no avail. She fought with me desperately, like an animal, determined to attack, relentless.  I was so tired of fighting with her.

I froze her body, only allowing her the use of speech, and I gathered her in my arms and held her against my chest.  She screamed and screamed at me, at the top of her lungs.  I said nothing, letting her unleash her angry words against me, knowing I deserved every bit of them, but I wanted to be close to her.  I found myself swaying back and forth while trying to quiet her, nuzzling against her hair.  I missed her so much.

After several long minutes she finally settled down, and I pulled away to look at her, hoping against hope I could finally get through. 

She was scowling heavily at me, her eyes ablaze.  “I
hate
you,” she spat out.

I staggered—the weight of her words striking me to the core, and I couldn’t help sucking in a traumatized breath as I hugged her tighter.

My girl was gone, destroyed by magic—destroyed because she stood next to me, never giving up hope.  She’d trusted me, given everything she had to give and now there was nothing left of her.  The Portia I knew and loved had disappeared, and only a crazy, powerful demon, one that would be hell bent on destroying everything around her, was left. 

There was only one way to stop her.

The answer was so clear I wondered why I hadn’t ever thought of it before.  It chilled me to the core, though, because I realized I would lose the only connections I had left with her too.  It didn’t matter —what I wanted didn’t matter.  Only she mattered.

I looked into her vengeful eyes, staring at the misery I saw there, trying to build up the courage for what I needed to do.  My heart felt like it was ripping into a thousand pieces, and my body started to tremble.

“I love you, Portia.  Please forgive me,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t understand what I was saying to her.

Tears leaked over the rims of my eyes, and I didn’t try to stop them. Freezing her completely, I lowered my head, rubbing my cheek against hers, leaning down to kiss her neck, her ear lobe and tenderly across her cheek before placing my lips over hers.  I kissed my beautiful witch for real, one last time, tasting her, running my tongue against hers, wishing she was responding to me but knowing she couldn’t.

“I love you,” I spoke again as I stared into her fiery glare, wishing with all my heart she could forgive me for what I was about to do.

I covered her mouth with mine once more, and I closed my eyes as I began sucking the magic from her body.

She gasped, and I forced myself to watch as the veins in her skin began to glow, the light of her powers traveling upward and into me.  As her strength began to fill me, I could feel everything else in her slipping away—the magic leaving her blood, the mental connection snapped, and I almost collapsed with grief when our binding spell fractured, moving out of her with the rest of her essence. 

I couldn’t hold her any longer, and I unwillingly let her slump to the floor as her power overtook me, singing in my veins, snapping viciously as it moved throughout my system causing sparks of lightning to erupt out of my skin.  I took several steps backward before the extreme rush and tremors brought me to my knees, doubling me over as I struggled to absorb her awesome abilities within me.  My body throbbed with energy for several long moments before I collapsed completely in exhaustion.

I lay on the floor panting, tears falling from my eyes as I realized I held everything that made her a witch inside of me now.  I had taken it all—stolen everything from her.

I got to my knees and crawled over to where she lay unmoving on the floor.

“Portia,” I called out, automatically searching for our mental connection and finding nothing.  There was no physical pull to her.  Her blood didn’t call to me.  I couldn’t hear or feel anything about her.

I fell to her chest and sobbed. 

My world had gone completely quiet, and the silence was deafening.

Epilogue

Vance Mangum-

There wasn’t one day over the next three years where I didn’t ponder over my decision, wondering if there could’ve been another way to save her or if I had acted too hastily.  Sometimes I would lay awake in bed as it ate away at me, constantly relieving my past mistakes, wishing there was some way to right those wrongs.  I would be lying if I didn’t say I missed my witch.  I missed everything about her, everything we had shared together.

I often closed my eyes and looked back at the first day I saw Portia and felt her emotions wash over me.  She was so beautiful with her dark hair blowing about her in the breeze—her musical laughter was permanently tattooed in my mind.  I wonder if I’d have known then what her life with me would be like, would I have had the courage to walk away and ignore her so she wouldn’t experience so much pain.  My heart clinched like it was in a vise whenever I imagined her finding love with someone else though, and the greedy side of me said I would live through it all again just to have her—leaving myself to feel like the monster I’d always known I was.

Sighing heavily, I left the window and wandered back over to the bed, sitting on the edge and staring vacantly at my hands.

It was crazy that I held so much power, yet I rarely did anything with it.  I didn’t want to be some superhero, out to save the world.  I didn’t thirst for more demonic powers like most demons did.  I just wanted to be me—a normal guy, living his life.

True, I didn’t know any normal guys who had to drink doses of witch blood at regular intervals, but one pint once a week wasn’t too bad.  I thought I had done very well at curbing those characteristics. 

Clearing that hurdle had opened many doors for me, allowing me to test out of high school and enroll in college, where I was studying pre-med, of all things, at the University of Arkansas. 

I liked using my healing characteristics with my powers and felt I might be of some help in the medical world.  I was determined to do something honorable with my magic, something I could be proud of, to try and restore the balance of all the awful things I’d seen it do—or done in my own life. 

I learned the value of using relaxation to help keep myself centered, so I also pursued my hobby in greater depth and used some of my money to open a custom motorcycle shop.  I loved working on bikes and designing new ones for people.  I had no idea people would love it so well, crawling out of the woodwork to demand my services.  My designs and craftsmanship were done all on my own, without the help of magic, and while I appreciated them, it was nice to see others do the same.  Working on those machines was very soothing, and it gave my mind time to think and sort through things quietly.   Honestly, I enjoyed every minute of it.

My musings were interrupted by a white streak of fur when Portia’s cat, Jinx, jumped into my lap.  She swiped her tail widely, knocking a photo over on the nightstand.  I absently pet the cat while I reached over to replace it, pausing to look at the smiling faces of the coven members from Sedona. 

They kept in constant touch with me, even though I made the choice not to rejoin them.  I never truly felt like I belonged there again, after all that had happened, even though I knew they would welcome me back with open arms. 

The loss of Sean was devastating to all of us, and it was hard to move past it. His sacrifice was not repayable.  I knew he was serious when he said he would never want to live as a demon.  It seemed he got his wish.  The best way we could honor him now was to try to pick up the pieces of our own lives and move on.

 Hex assumed Sean’s role in the coven after marrying Milly.  They began actively looking to recruit new members to their group, trying to fill the places of all those they had lost.  I grew to respect Hex, despite all our differences.  He was a good guy and he truly wanted the best for the coven.  Milly and he seemed to mesh really well together, though it was strange for me to see them married since Milly had been widowed long before I knew her.  I was glad they were happy though, since there were getting to be too many widowed people in this family.

Stacey asked my mom to come live with her.  They quickly became best friends, bonded by all they had lost and were a great comfort to each other.  I gave both of them a hefty amount of Damien’s money, figuring it was the least I could do to try to make up for all the horrors they had both been through because of him.  Stacey quit her job at the hospital and opened up a restaurant right next door to my mom’s new bookstore, and the two seemed to be getting along quiet happily.

Brad got a football scholarship and moved to California to attend school, but not before he surprised Shelly with an engagement ring and toted her out there with him.  They’d been married for six months now and were deliriously happy, despite the occasional vision Shelly still had, which thankfully had nothing to do with me.

Life was moving forward, despite everything we had all been through.  I was trying to come to terms and let my heart heal with it, though I found guilt a hard thing to overcome.

“Earth to Dr. Mangum,” a beautiful, feminine voice broke into my thoughts, and I lifted my head to see Portia standing in the doorway, still wearing her scrubs she had worn to her student nursing class.

My heart started pounding as I stared at my girl—my completely human girl—but still mine nonetheless, bound to me now only by her unconditional, unfailing love.  Never once had she complained about my decision, instead thanking me profusely through her tears for taking the magic away and allowing her to have a life to live.

Just looking at her made my world brighten a thousand fold, and I smiled widely.  “Well, what’s the verdict?” I asked.  “Did you pass your test?”

“You’re the one who’s going to be the doctor—I figured you should make the diagnosis.” She walked forward extending a piece of paper toward me.

I took it, looking down and feeling confused when I realized it wasn’t a test at all, but a lab printout.  “What’s this?”  I asked, my heart racing, as I scanned the page, finally seeing what she was showing me.

I was dumbfounded, and it took me a second before I stood up and wrapped my arms around her, swinging her in a circle.  “You’re pregnant,” I said with a grin, burying my face against her neck.