Blood and Kisses

chapter 20



Thalia stooped beneath a low beam to peer into Mina’s cellar from the rickety stairs. Brick walls discolored with age, rough, worn ceiling beams, and the expectant faces of the council below seemed to close in around her. Turn around. Her internal voice whispered. You can’t do this.

Yes, I can. She told herself and took a moment to study the room in order to calm her surging nerves.

Other than its age, the cellar was pristine, the uneven cement floor swept clean and covered with a natural lamb’s wool rug, the windows clear of spider webs and blocked with black curtains. One of the squat, rectangular windows was slightly open.

A heavy mahogany sideboard spread with a clean white linen tablecloth acted as an altar. It had three milky white candles on top. A black pentagram in a circle had been painted directly on the cream rug beneath the altar. Different colored pillar candles, pink, purple, green and blue, in intricately carved wooden floor length holders, anchored the four corners of the carpet. Two rattan cages full of zebra finches stood next to the altar.

Spirit, and the twelve other members of the council encircled the rug on small woven mats. Thalia forced herself down the last of the stairs and lowered herself onto one of the mats, trying to look serene. Unable to settle her mind, her gaze flitted around the room. Gideon should have been back from feeding by now. Where was he? Was he okay?

The council members chatted around her, as relaxed as at a family picnic. Anger buzzed through her. Her whole way of life was at stake, a dangerous rogue stalked the community, Gideon was overdue, and these poor excuses for witches acted like this was a party. She took several deep breaths. Fueling her magic with anger would be risky. The emotion edged too close to black magic.

The finches peeped and Thalia glanced back at the stairs. Gideon. He took the steps with the ease of a conqueror surveying his spoils. The small birds flew around their cage for a moment, perhaps scenting the predator in their midst, but they soon settled on their perches, fluffing out their feathers and going to sleep.

Thalia studied Gideon. He seemed in good health and some of the tight breathless feeling that had ridden her since he’d left seeped away.

There were only a few minutes until midnight. She hoped that meant he’d taken his time feeding. His dark skin didn’t show the flush some paler vampires received after feeding, but he looked strong.

His gaze met hers. She could almost read the sense of urgency humming through him. Akos could even now be Claiming a life.

She knew what it cost him to be here. Knew he would like to continue the search without her. Communicating telepathically under the circumstances would be rude, so she smiled at him, letting him see she was grateful for his moral support.

With most of the community against her, all she had was him and Spirit, and as much as she loved and depended on the familiar, he couldn’t be there for her as Gideon could.

Sure, his support was temporary, but she’d burn that bridge when she came to it.

The sisal mat beside Spirit lay empty and Gideon took a seat like the others on the floor, folding his legs under him.

She pressed her lips together, suppressing another small smile. Even sitting tailor fashion on the floor, he gave the impression of coiled strength. Despite being seated and engaged in their own conversations, the witnesses seemed to lean away from him, as if their unconscious selves wanted to be ready to run.

“It is time to begin.” Mina stepped up and lit a white candle on the altar. She beckoned to Heath and Thalia.

She hid a deep sigh. This was it.

She wiped her damp palms down her white, rope-girdled silk robe. Sleeveless, it crisscrossed her chest, in Grecian fashion. She’d always thought it looked like a nightgown. Heath was in the white robe mages usually wore which resembled a graduation gown. His bare toes appeared stubby in the shaggy rug. She curled her own in response to the thought, then inhaled and focused on feeling the earth through the layers beneath her.

Mina intoned several words in Latin she couldn’t hear through the thrumming in her ears, then the older woman used the first candle to light the two others on the altar. She gave the second candle to Thalia and the third to Heath. Thalia took up the chant, a plea for protection, the words so familiar to her she no longer needed think, concentrating instead on her intentions.

Together, they lit the four pillar candles representing the four directions while continuing to chant. A streamer of white light formed between the candles as each was lit, until a glowing square enveloped her and the other two witches.

Thalia took strength from the ritual, grounding herself and letting her nerves wash into the vastness of the universe. The spells asked of them would be simple, but it was their very simplicity that made them so difficult, requiring strong personal magic, intense concentration and plenty of practice. She possessed the last two. That would have to be enough.

Mina cleared her throat and spoke to the council. “The first challenge will be levitation, the second illusion, and the third transmutation. The fourth and final challenge will be done only if there is no decisive winner and will be a personal power spell.”

A personal power spell? Once again, Thalia shoved away feelings of panic. She could do this. All she had to do was win the first three challenges. No sweat.

Two younger mages wearing robes like Heath’s stood and brought ten-pound weights from the storage area under the stairs. They placed one weight in front of Thalia and one in front of Heath before retaking their seats.

Mina nodded to Heath. “Although Thalia is technically the challenger, I think it only fair as the former Champion she have the opportunity to go last.”

Heath’s mouth tightened and his lower lip jutted out a bit. “As you wish.”

The older woman waved a graceful hand in his direction. “Please begin.”

He sucked the inside of his cheeks and rolled up his sleeves, exposing tanned forearms covered with light brown hair. “Ascendere,” he commanded with an upward motion of his hands, his hazel eyes focused and intense. Yellow streaks of light emerged from his wide palms and wrapped around the weight, a molded turquoise dumbbell. It lifted into the air and hovered above Heath’s bald head. He lowered his hands and the compact dumbbell settled on the rug like a bird landing. His piercing gaze lit on Thalia, and then he yielded the floor with a swirl of his robe.

“Thalia.”

Heart beating like a over-wound clock, Thalia licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. Her gaze flicked to Gideon. He smiled. His obvious faith lent her a jolt of added determination. She would not let either of them down.

Her eyes returned to her target. Mind filled with a single focused thought, she gestured up with open palms. “Ascendere.” Blue light arced from her hands, and the dumbbell rose into the air. It hovered above her head and she, too, set it softly on the ground.

“Let it be acknowledged that both candidates have successfully levitated a ten-pound weight.” Mina waved to the mages who’d brought out the weights. They removed them and replaced them with fifty-pound weights.

Once again, Heath went first. “Ascendere.” The black disk levitated into the air and sank back to the floor with a tiny clunk.

Thalia’s turn. She inhaled as if about to dive. “Ascendere.” The disk flew up, paused, and then landed feather-light on the plush carpet. Thalia let out the breath she’d been holding in a rush.

And so it went, Thalia matching Heath at every increase in weight. Finally, after they’d each lifted five hundred pounds, Mina announced, “The final element of the levitation portion of the ritual will be the contestants’ choice, but must illustrate their ability to control the object they are lifting.”

The assistants had cleared away the weights and now a pitcher of water and a drinking glass were set on the altar. Heath straightened his robes. He took a deep breath and raised his hands. “Ascendere.”

The pitcher floated above the glass and tipped. A measure of water poured into the glass. Then the pitcher returned safely to the altar. Not a drop had been spilled. The audience, who until this point had watched in silence, whispered to each other, clearly impressed by this example of control.

When his turn was over, Heath pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his head, the first sign he felt any strain.

The glass and pitcher were removed, and a blank piece of paper and an uncapped, felt-tipped pen were brought out and set in their place. A murmur rippled through the circle.

Thalia licked her lips. This trick was risky, but she needed to pull out all the stops if she wanted to win. “Ascendere.” Her forehead creased, and she bit her lip in concentration.

Surrounded by ribbons of blue light, the pen lifted from the table and zeroed in on the paper. Every ounce of Thalia focused on control of the pen. The murmurs had died, and the scratch of the point moving purposefully across the paper was the only sound. Finally, Thalia laid the pen to rest on the table, praying her efforts had been good enough. Mina stepped forward and picked up the paper. She held it above her head. “It says, ‘I am the Champion.’”

During the exercise, Thalia had been too centered on forming each letter to take in the whole. Now her chest filled with pride as she acknowledged the precision of each letter. The sentence had the sure flow of something written by a careful hand. Mina showed it to each member of the council. They nodded in recognition of her feat.

The council left their seats and conferred in the corner for a moment. Thalia mentally crossed her fingers. She’d done all she could. The outcome was in the council’s hands now.

While they discussed the score, Thalia took stock of her condition. She’d expended a lot of energy, more than she usually did over the course of two days, but she didn’t feel fatigued.

She glanced over at Gideon. He inclined his head, eyes dark and glinting with approval. In fact, somehow, she felt energized, though not in the same way she’d felt when he’d fed her power during their earlier skirmish with the rogue.

The council retook their seats, and Mina walked back to the altar. “The council has declared Thalia the winner of the levitation portion of the competition. We will take a short break and resume in fifteen minutes.”

Heath’s heavy brows lowered over his eyes, and his expression was dour, but he said nothing.

Thalia repressed a smile. One challenge down. Two more to go.

But who knew how long this odd surge of energy would last. The feeling might simply be a side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through her due to what was at stake.

The first part of the challenge had taken almost an hour. She hoped the illusion portion would go faster.

The break seemed interminable, but at last Mina called the gathering back to order.

Once again, they started small.

Heath conjured a simple glamour, taking on the aspect of one of the other councilmen. Thalia followed by impersonating Mina. Heath created an illusion of a raging fire, complete with heavy smoke and searing heat.

Thalia thought for moment. She needed an illusion just as sensory. The memory of her and Gideon running though the pouring rain flashed into her mind and she almost smiled.

She raised her hands and fabricated a torrent of rain that felt cool and wet. It shushed down from the ceiling with a roar, soaked their clothes, and pooled on the floor, before evaporating as if it had never been, which of course it hadn’t.

Finally, Heath created a swarm of bees. They zoomed around the room, blanketing each council member in turn, en masse. The witches and mages of the council exchanged delighted glances at the intricacy of the illusion. The sensation of fragile wings beating, tiny legs crawling on their skin, the vibration of their buzzing.

Thalia conjured a flock of hummingbirds. They darted back and forth, their iridescent bodies shining jewel bright in the candlelight, their wings a blur. They were beautiful, and the witches and mages craned their heads to enjoy their quicksilver movements, but were they enough to impress the council?

They conferred once more.

At last, Mina declared, “Heath has won the illusion portion of the competition.”

Thalia closed her eyes as she heard the results, her chest heavy. She needed to win the next challenge or everything she’d worked for her whole life would be taken away.

For the transmutation section of the challenge, Mina placed several small objects on the altar, two buttons, two plastic combs, two common river pebbles.

Heath marched up to the altar and laid his workmanlike hands over one of the buttons. He lowered his eyelids, his brow furrowed, and he whispered under his breath, “Metamorphose.” There was a flash of canary yellow light. When he removed his hands, a ruby sparkled crimson on the snowy white cloth. He inclined his head mockingly at Thalia, a ‘beat that’ glint in his eyes.

Thalia stepped up, resolute. She could do this. She had to do this. Covering the remaining button with her hands, she took a deep breath, letting her eyes half-close. “Metamorphose.”

Blue light seeped through her closed fingers, and she withdrew her hands with a flourish, revealing an amethyst even larger than the original button. Thalia checked the councils’ reactions. There were some raised eyebrows and shared glances, but she knew from the earlier tests that this contest would not be decided until the final object.

Heath practically shoved her aside as he returned to the altar and obscured one of the black combs with his sturdy hands. “Metamorphose.” He whipped his hands away, uncovering a large painted Fabergé egg with extensive gold leaf and a scene inside.

Mina cradled the delicate object in her hands and passed it around the murmuring circle. Each council member studied it with approval. Heath directed a smile of triumph at her. Thalia clenched her fists. God, she’d like to punch him in his big fat nose.

Throwing every shred of intention into the universe, she took her place, hiding the plastic comb from view beneath her fingers. “Metamorphose,” she bit out through gritted teeth, stepping back before the blue light of her power faded away, unveiling a tiny carousel with the last remnants of her magic twinkling around it.

She reached down and pressed a tiny hidden lever with her fingernail. The miniature carousel began to turn, sending the elaborately decorated horses and fantastic animals plunging and rearing in a choreographed dance around the carousel while a sprightly tune played.

Thalia smiled sweetly at Heath as Mina showed the petite merry-go-round to each person in the audience.

“Charming,” a young blond woman whispered to her look-alike neighbor who sniffed haughtily in response.

Without waiting for Mina to finish, Heath strode up to the sideboard and thrust his hands over one of the gray pebbles. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, leaving wet streaks in its wake. “Metamorphose,” he said.

He ripped his hands away, holding them high in the air like a prizefighter after winning a fight. What had been a smooth round stone was now a tiny gray mouse, perfect in every detail from its miniature whiskers and toenails to its translucent, shell pink ears. It squeaked. Its diminutive nose wiggled as it smelled the air and scampered behind one of the carved wooden candlesticks for cover. Mina picked it up and showed it to the council. They nodded and smiled.

“Thalia,” she said as she set the mouse in a small acrylic cage held by one of her assistants. “The ball is in your court.”

Thalia folded her hands under her chin and closed her eyes, thinking of what to do and summoning her strength. Her muscles tensed. If she won this, she would win the ritual.

She placed her cupped hands over the stone, shoulders rigid with concentration, and whispered, “Metamorphose.” Blue light reflected on her hands, and when she removed them, a small, gray kitten with huge blue eyes gazed up at them. The kitten was passed around, ending up in the arms of the young blond councilwoman who’d admired the carousel.

For a third time the council members stood to deliberate. Their discussion was heated. Heath was showing hints of wear. He sat on one of the mats for a moment. Thalia took stock once more. In the past, if she’d expended this much magic she would have needed a couple days to recover, but somehow she only felt a little tired. She locked her hands behind her back and waited impassively for the verdict.

Finally Mina turned. “It’s a tie. The personal power spell will decide the competition.”

Heath grinned. The bastard thought he’d already won.

Thalia nodded coolly, maybe he had—or maybe not. She’d done far more than she’d thought she could.

She peeked over at Gideon and Spirit. They were speaking quietly, about her odds she supposed. She filled her lungs and released a calming sigh. She had to admit they weren’t good, but she wasn’t out yet.

When intermission was over, they began the final test.

Thalia took a seat on one of the fiber mats. Heath would go first as before.

Heath went to the altar. He took a small piece of paper from Mina and began to read from it. As he spoke each line, he burned a pinch of herbs in the candle’s flame. Strands of yellow light hung in the air around him, weaving about each other like a web.

On the last line, he opened the first birdcage. The finches flew around the room for a moment, then out the partially opened window. Thalia felt a force push her backward off her mat. At the same time, the other council members slid back off their mats.

Thalia tried to swallow the hard lump in her throat, but her mouth was too dry. Could she muster enough personal power to blow the council that far?

They stood, and reseated themselves, exchanging meaningful glances yet again.

“Thank you, Heath.” Mina’s words were clearly a dismissal.

He bowed and went to his seat, the line of his back straight and proud, obviously pleased with his performance.

It was her turn. Her final chance to prove she belonged as Champion.

As she took the small piece of paper from Mina, Thalia became hyper conscious of everything around her. Her light robe seemed to bite her skin, the breathing of the witnesses seemed too loud, and she couldn’t seem to get enough air.

Licking her lips, she began to read, sprinkling herbs over the flame. “Reveal the secret hidden from my heart, the magic energy that flows into my art.” With each word something grew inside her, it tingled from the soles of her feet, consuming her in a field of pure electricity. The light of her magic slowly filled the air, tinting everything in the room blue. The ribbons of energy plaited together into a tangled skein. The herbs crackled as she crumbled them into the candle’s fiery heart. “Like this charm of finches from their cage, release the storm of power to be gauged.”

At her last word, she threw open the second cage.

The finches flew in a circle around the room, their tiny wings fluttering overhead, then out the half-open window.

As they disappeared, the charge of power that had built inside her became a rush of wind that seemed to emanate from every inch of her body. It blew out the candles and catapulted the observers back against the walls like debris carried on a storm surge.

Thalia shook with the force of the release, and sank to the rug, drained. Clearly stunned, the witches and mages of the council got slowly to their feet, rubbing heads, shoulders, and backs.

An older mage helped Mina to her feet. Heath bore a shocked look on his broad face. The room was silent for a moment and then the young witch with the kitten on her shoulder began to clap. One by one the others joined in.

Regaining her feet, Thalia smiled politely at the council, but inside she shouted and pumped her fist. She‘d done it! She’d defeated Heath. She was still the Champion.

Thalia held her head high. She’d proven herself worthy. No one could question her ability to serve as the Champion now. She turned to Mina. “Are you satisfied?”

Mina smiled back. “More than satisfied, my dear.” Her brown eyes danced.

Thalia tilted her head. “You knew this would happen?”

Mina put her arm around Thalia’s shoulders and led her to a secluded corner. “I had a suspicion. Your mother always said she thought you had an enormous talent, but something was holding you back. Fear? Lack of confidence?” Mina shrugged. “She didn’t know. But whatever it was, you seem to have conquered it.”

“This whole thing—” Thalia waved a hand toward the altar, and the crowd of councilmen and women who spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Mina’s expression grew serious. “Was a ploy to bring you to a place where you could discover your real talent, at least on my part.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t tell Heath. He had ambitions.” She grinned, patted Thalia on the shoulder and, with a stately whisper of nylon hose and linen pleats, moved to intercept the nearest clump of people.

Thalia went to Gideon.

“That was quite a show.” The harsh lines of his face made it difficult to guess his thoughts. “Is that how it’s supposed to work?”

“Typically the observer feels a small push.”

Gideon nodded and took her arm. “I think we should get going.”

Deflated by Gideon’s lack of reaction, Thalia followed him up the narrow stairs, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on her.

This night was far from over.