Nightfall: Blood Magic Book 1 Page 11

  Tegan: What happened? Are you safe?

  Several minutes went by before my phone buzzed with a reply, and my heart leapt. He couldn’t be responding to my message if he was dead. I opened it eagerly.

  Ethan: Damned slayer managed to get away. I’m home and safe. Glad to know you worry about me. I was beginning to wonder…

  Tegan: Of course I worry. I’m very much against needless death.

  Ethan: Admit it. You’d be terribly upset if I died.

  Tegan: Maybe. Just a little.

  Ethan: Get some sleep. You’ll be seeing me soon. xxx

  I fell back into my pillow, heaving a shaky sigh. Oh yeah, I was definitely starting to be charmed by Ethan, which was cause for great concern.

  My alarm woke me way too early. These back to back shifts were going to be the death of me, but I was too stubborn to take Ethan up on his offer.

  I was on my own for most of the day at Indigo. Gabriel dipped in and out once or twice, but there was no sign of Marcel. I wondered what he did when he was out all day. Did maintaining the segregation between the two opposing sides of the city take a lot of work?

  It was just all so … divisive. Ethan swayed me toward the vampires, but was my attraction to him clouding my judgement? Maybe I needed to keep my feet on more neutral ground like that vampire David Rollans.

  With these thoughts swirling in my head, I pulled out my phone, staring at Rita’s name in my contacts list. I’d been hoping she’d stop by again so we could talk more about my spell. Impulsively, I hit ‘call’ and waited while her phone rang.

  “Knew you’d be in touch,” she said when she answered.

  “Rita, hi. Are you free this evening?”

  “Free as a bird. Do you want to come over?”

  “To your house? Um, I guess so—” Before I could finish speaking, she rattled off her address.

  As expected, her house was on the north side of the Hawthorn, the same as Indigo, on magical family/dhampir/slayer territory. I hopped on a bus and headed straight there after my shift. Rita lived in a small, terraced house on a residential street just outside of the cramped city centre. Approaching her house, I spotted three cats sitting on her doorstep. One of them waltzed up to me, purring and rubbing against my leg.

  “Hey there, kitty,” I said, reaching down to pet its head. It purred louder, rising to my touch with a curve of its back and a lifting of its behind. “Aren’t you friendly.”

  I reached for the heavy brass knocker, and a moment later the door flew open. I wondered if I’d come to the wrong house. A man stood before me. He had thinning black hair styled into a quiff, a nose piercing, and a velvet shirt with the first few buttons undone to reveal a pale, birdlike chest. He was also barefoot.

  “May I help you?” he asked.

  “Hi, I’m Tegan. I’m looking for Rita.”

  His eyes flashed with recognition. “You’re Tegan! Oh, I’m so excited to meet you. You’re much prettier than Rita described.”

  “Thanks … I think. Is she home?”

  “She is. Come in,” he said, standing back and motioning me inside. “I’m Alvie, by the way. Rita and I are besties.” He led me to the end of the hallway and through a door, which opened into a kitchen that might have been spacious once but was now so full of things that it was nearly impossible to determine its original size. Shelves lined every wall, packed to the brim with random items. Crockery, antiques, dozens of yellowed paperbacks, and of course, all manner of jarred herbs, oils, and tinctures. There was also an endless array of green, leafy house plants that made the place feel like a living, breathing thing.

  The back door was open, leading out to a rear garden. “Reet!” Alvie called. “Tegan is here. Come inside so we can get our spells on!”

  Get our spells on? I was starting to rethink my decision to come here.

  “Be there in a minute, Alvie,” I heard her call back from somewhere out in the garden.

  Alvie gestured to the kitchen table. “Please, take a seat.”

  I sat, still taking the place in. Alvie went to the stove, where there was a large pot simmering. He lifted the lid, took a sniff, then stirred whatever concoction was inside with a big wooden ladle before replacing the lid.

  “Get your filthy paws off that,” Rita snapped playfully when she entered the house. There was an older woman behind her who I presumed was her mother. The woman had chestnut hair with a few greys peeking out at the temples. She also wore a long purple skirt that pooled around her bare feet. They weren’t fond of footwear in this house.

  Rita grinned when she saw me, her brown eyes a mixture of excitement and mischief. The mischief could be cause for concern, but I didn’t detect any ill intent.

  “Tegan, I’m so glad you came. This is my mum, Noreen.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Noreen said with a smile. She had kind eyes.

  “You, too. You have a wonderful home.”

  She laughed. “That’s very kind of you to say. I know it can be a lot to take in.” She glanced around at the endless shelves. “Rita told me all about your predicament. I would have liked to stay and take part in the casting, but I have a house call with a client.”

  “Mum’s a healer,” Rita put in.

  “Oh,” I replied, intrigued.

  “I’ve been flat out lately,” Noreen said as she grabbed her coat and slid her feet into a pair of flats. “I’ll be back before midnight, Rita. Don’t make a mess.”

  Once she had left, Rita came to sit across from me and clasped her hands together. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Not really, but I want to get to the bottom of things, and I want to do it without Ethan, Marcel, or Gabriel being involved. Then I can decide for myself if it’s something I want to tell them.”

  “I like it,” Alvie grinned. “It’s like supernatural female empowerment.”

  “We don’t know if she’s supernatural yet,” Rita countered as she settled her gaze on me. “But from what you’ve told me I’d be surprised if you weren’t. Since we talked at Indigo, I’ve been working round the clock to devise a clairvoyance spell for you.”

  “You have?”

  She nodded eagerly. “I’m pretty excited to see if it works.”

  I glanced at Alvie, who was reaching up to retrieve a large bowl from one of the shelves. “And are you a warlock?” I asked him.

  His expression turned sheepish. “Not officially.”

  “So, you don’t come from one of the magical families?”

  He scoffed. “No, and thank goodness for that. Those stiffs couldn’t handle all this.” I laughed as he made a swooping hand gesture down his body before handing Rita the bowl.

  “How confident are you that your spell will work?” I questioned, watching as she threw various herbs into the bowl.

  Rita pressed her lips together. “Pretty certain, but you always have to leave room for error. I can give no guarantees, but even if we fail, we won’t do any harm. The spell is benign, not malevolent.”

  “There are malevolent spells?”

  “Oh yes. I consider myself a good witch. My magic is only ever used to help people. But there are some who practice the dark arts, and those spells are drawn from dark power. You’ll know a good witch from a bad one based on the ingredients used in their spells. Good witches use herbs and flowers, things that come from the earth, while bad ones use blood and death and sacrifice.”

  A shiver ran through me at that last part. “Are Marcel and Gabriel good or bad?”

  She thought about it a moment. “Marcel is ambiguous. He often plays both sides. But Gabriel is good. If it weren’t for his association with Marcel, I’d say you could trust Gabriel.”

  Well, that was interesting. I thought of the day I first met the two men and how Gabriel seemed somewhat reluctant to work with me while Marcel was quite eager.

  Rita went about gathering her implements and readying them for the spell. I glanced at Alvie when he joined us at the table. “Has Rita told you everything about me?”


  He nodded. “I hope that’s okay. I need to know all the details if I’m going to be the third member of the circle. You couldn’t have done this kind of spell with just the two of you—not unless one of you was a sorceress or a very experienced witch.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone,” he went on, touching my arm in reassurance. “When it comes to magic Rita and I keep everything strictly confidential.”

  “Thank you. That puts my mind at ease.”

  Rita stood and walked over to the stove, where she removed the lid from her pot and ladled some of the concoction into her bowl. The scent of mint and cloves hit my nose. Then she returned, placing the bowl in the centre of the table with steam rising from it. Next, Alvie placed three smaller bowls filled with water in front of each of our place settings.

  They both dipped their hands in the water then began rubbing herbs into their palms. “Thyme,” Rita said, handing some to me. “It purifies the skin. There can’t be anything on our hands that might corrupt the spell.”

  “Right,” I replied as I copied her movements, first placing my hands in the water, then rubbing in the thyme. There were a further four bowls in front of Rita, containing various herbs and berries. I eyed them curiously. A slow, calming breeze flowed in from the garden, the air crisp. I noticed a marked difference in the way Rita practiced magic compared to what I’d seen Marcel and Gabriel do.

  Rita reached out and took my left hand, while Alvie took hold of my right. My stomach tensed. This was it. Tonight, I might actually find out what made me, well, different.

  Rita gestured to the largest bowl. “This is a neutral bath. It contains a base from which to start. What we put into it after we begin determines the nature and function of the spell.” I nodded along as she continued speaking. “We’ll take several moments to clear our minds before we start.”

  Rita and Alvie both closed their eyes, and I followed suit, trying my best to clear my head. The quiet seemed to close in around me. I allowed myself to fall into a meditative state.

  “Okay,” Rita said after a few moments of quiet and I opened my eyes. “Let us begin.”

  “I call on the Goddess to watch over our proceedings here this night,” Rita said. “And to secure the success of our casting. Into the formula, I add aniseed.” She lifted some flowery, leafy green herbs and threw them into the bowl. “This will banish any negative energy or negative thoughts and will ensure that no person within the circle is present for deceitful or insidious reasons.”

  Next, she plucked another bunch of herbs and tossed them in. “Secondly, I add bay leaf, for protection from the seeping in of the dark arts and purification of our intentions. But most importantly for clairvoyance, so that we may see that which has been hidden.”

  Rita took a breath, making eye contact with both me and Alvie. “Finally, I add euphrasia, more commonly known as eyebright, for it will serve in pulling out lost and forgotten memories from within the depths of my circle sister’s mind. It will seek the truth, which is our purpose here tonight.” She tossed a cluster of small white flowers with a dash of yellow into the bowl and more steam started to rise. My grip on both Rita and Alvie’s hands tightened. The concoction began to swirl, and a sliver of golden light shone through.

  Wow.

  The gold faded, replaced with a rainbow of dazzling colours. I could feel the magic pulling at me, dragging, demanding my attention. Rita was right. She was far more naturally talented than Marcel or Gabriel because this already surpassed what I’d seen them do.

  The colours started to converge. My eyes were drawn closer to the bowl before the most bizarre thing happened. I fell into the colours. They merged, forming a picture …

  There was a room with cream painted walls and pine floors. My childhood bedroom. There was a cot, above which hung a fairy mobile that twirled around and around. A baby cooed from the cot, reaching up with pudgy hands.

  The door opened, and my mother walked in. Was I that baby? My mother set a variety of objects down on the rug in the middle of the floor. Then she picked the baby out of the cot and set her down on the rug. She organised the objects into a circle. There was a wide bowl containing a broth, and several smaller bowls containing different varieties of herbs. There was a small silver knife to the left of the bowl. It looked old, like an antique. To the right lay a glassy red stone.

  Was she casting a spell?

  My mother spoke, invoking the Goddess just as Rita had. She requested that she watch over her child, sheltering her from malevolent intrusions. Next, she began picking up bits of leaves, flowers, and berries, sprinkling them all in. The way she did it seemed so effortless, like second nature.

  My mother was a witch. Seeing her now, it was undeniable.

  She lifted the silver knife, holding it to a vein in her arm. She pressed in, cutting deep. Blood dripped from the incision, and she held it over the bowl, letting it mix with the ingredients. The greenish broth instantly turned a shocking shade of red as the first drop hit the liquid. Then she withdrew her arm and pressed a cloth over the cut to stop the bleeding. She picked up the baby and plucked something shiny from beside the bowl. A silver pin.

  She held out the baby’s palm and pricked the centre of it with the pin. The baby squealed and started to cry. My mother rocked her for a moment to soothe her cries. Once the baby quieted, she lifted her hand, holding it over the bowl, and allowed just one drop of blood to fall into the mixture.

  The was a flash, like lightning. My mother’s voice boomed within the small room. “I bequeath you, Goddess! Take this blood curse from my child and hide it deep, deep within her so that no one will ever find it. Save her from being hunted like I am hunted. Forever conceal the True Power so that she may live a life of freedom. So that she never knows the suffering of her mother.”

  She fell silent, and a white light shone from the bowl, so bright that it bleached out the red until it was no longer a thick, viscous liquid, but a clear, see-through fluid.

  Tears streamed down my mother’s face as she wept. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much.” She hugged the baby to her chest, and I felt myself being pulled away.

  The scene faded to black, and just as quickly, another began.

  A forest in the dark of night. My mother ran through the trees. She was being chased. “I’m going to get you,” a disembodied voice echoed in the darkness. “No point running. No point hiding.”

  A fountain of long dark hair streamed down her back as she ran like her life depended on it. Then a pale, slender hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, breaking her run. She tumbled backward into someone’s arms, and a sense of dread filled me. My mother had been caught, and whoever’s hand that was, I sensed they meant her harm.

  Something dragged on me, the scene fading away.

  Just like that, I was back in Rita’s kitchen.

  14.

  The room shook, and a shelf full of glass jars came loose, smashing to the floor.

  Rita rubbed her eyes, and Alvie blinked several times, regaining focus. Wide-eyed, I stared at the two of them, still absorbing the flashbacks of my mother. It took me a second to realise that Rita was staring at me, a mix of fascination and horror on her face.

  “You both saw that, right?” I asked, a cold sweat coating my skin.

  Rita nodded but didn’t speak. I was starting to get really freaked out by her silence.

  “That was my mother,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure I was the baby. But what was the spell she performed? Do you know what it meant?”

  Rita cleared her throat, and she and Alvie shared a concerned look. She swallowed thickly. “Your mother spoke of a blood curse. Something called the True Power. I read about it once in one of my mum’s old spell books. As far as I can remember, witches born with True Power blood are extremely rare, mostly because they were hunted almost to extinction. Few people even know about it anymore.”

  “Do I have this blood?�
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  “If what we saw in the vision is correct, yes. You must’ve inherited it from your mother. Someone was hunting her in the second vision. I think she created a spell to hide the blood in you, most likely so that you wouldn’t be hunted like she was.”

  My heart clenched. My mother was hunted? Dad always said she died from cancer, but now I wondered if that was true. Had the person who chased her in the woods taken her life? I felt a chill just thinking about it.

  “But what is True Power blood? What does it do?”

  “It comes from the original magical families and is only passed down through the female line.” Rita paused as though deciding how to break the news. “Your blood is not only intoxicating to vampires, giving them strength ten times what they already possess, but it’s also an incredibly potent magical ingredient, especially in dark magic, which is why your mother wanted to protect you. Witches with your blood are not only hunted by vampires, but also by their own people.”

  Hearing that, a chill swept over me. I was a witch? This was mind-boggling. “Wait,” I said. “Does this mean I’m related to one of the twelve families?”

  “You must be. What was your mother’s maiden name?”

  “Smith,” I answered.

  “There are no magical families with that name,” Alvie said. “It must be an alias.”

  “If she was in hiding then she’d hardly use her real name,” Rita said, her eyebrows drawn in thought. “I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure Mum’s spell book said that True Power blood can make vampires impervious to sunlight. It’s likely the reason their compulsion doesn’t work on you. Seems only right that you’d have some form of defence against them.”

  I swallowed thickly, goosebumps rising as I remembered Ethan’s words and his nickname for me. You smell like sunshine.

  “My God,” I whispered. “That’s … insane.”

  Rita reached out, taking my hand in hers. “Tegan, you’re so lucky you came to me with this. Marcel and Gabriel wouldn’t have tried to see into the past as I did. They would’ve tried to break your mother’s spell entirely. You cannot, under any circumstances, allow anyone to break the spell.”