Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) (17 page)

“Bullshit,” Dorian growled. “You run to them with this news, and they don’t reveal what their plans are?”

“He didn’t run to tell them about Gwen,” Fiona said in defense. “He did it because I asked him to, okay? The last time we were in Moon I heard Charles and Kye talking. They suspected something was wrong with Gwen. I never said anything because I thought they were crazy.” Fiona sent me an apologetic smile. “But when Ethan and I started sensing the imbalance, I started to wonder if they’d been right. I wanted Ethan to go to Moon to see if they were planning anything. The council members are stronger than us, would have sensed the imbalance long before we did. I’m thinking that’s why they asked Gwen to become a council member, so they could keep a closer eye on her.” Fiona paused, taking a ragged breath. “I did it to help out.”

I heard the unspoken
but
after her sentence, and my gut tightened. I envisioned myself as the witch from 1822. While she’d purposefully cast a spell to keep from dying, we were the same; two beings living on borrowed time. I imagined those seven extra days she got were lived blissfully happy, ignorantly thinking she still had a long life ahead of her. Was that what I was doing, living in ignorance as the NAWC members strategized how to kill me?

“Instead you put Gwen on their radar, right?” Dorian asked, his voice accusing and hard.

Fiona looked up at Ethan before her eyes found mine. “They asked why he wanted to know, and then remembered that he was staying with me in Flora. They know you and I live together. They just…put two and two together.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dorian snarled. Looking down at me, he said, “Gwen, pack a bag; we’re leaving before the NAWC even sets foot in Flora.”

Ethan snorted. “Running won’t do any good; they’re the best of the best. One tracking spell and Gwen is as good as theirs. Not to mention her bond with the vampire. If they have to, they’ll track him down to find her.”

The bit about being bonded to a vampire caught me off guard for a second. I had forgotten Dorian told me about him—Aiden. With everything going on, being bonded to a vampire who had yet to reveal himself was the least of my worries. The only picture I could form of him was from the racy dream I’d had, and that only made me uncomfortable.

“You have to understand that it’s their job to take care of things like this,” Fiona said. “They must govern their people or it’ll cause friction among the other governments.”

“You’re defending them?” I asked with incredulity. To her credit, she looked rueful about what she said.

“She’s not defending them,” Ethan replied, “she’s simply stating that had Dorian not broken the rules, they wouldn’t be forced to act. It’s their job to extinguish threats and, like it or not, you’re a threat, Gwen.”

I chewed on my tongue rather than spilling the many thoughts racing through my head. I understood what Fiona was saying, and even Ethan, but that didn’t mean I was on board to help the NAWC kill me. I wanted so badly to say how this wasn’t my fault, that I wasn’t like the witch from 1822. This had been done to me; I hadn’t willingly trapped my soul to keep from dying. But I didn’t say any of those things because,for one, they already knew all this, and secondly, it didn’t change anything. We needed to spend our time figuring out a way around this, if there even was a way around this. The thing was, I wasn’t completely sure Ethan and Fiona wanted to find a solution. Ethan’s disinterest didn’t surprise me; it was Fiona’s wavering that caused a pang of betrayal to seep through my chest. Maybe she’d lost the hope I so desperately clung to, and I couldn’t fault her for that. This was a very serious matter, one where seeing a silver lining was difficult to do.

I looked up at Dorian and he arched a sharp brow as though to say ‘told you so.’ I didn’t want to believe that Fiona—my supposed best friend—wanted to turn me into the NAWC. I lowered my eyes to my lap, concentrating on the chipping nail polish on my thumb.

“I want to try the time traveling spell,” Fiona said. “Ethan and I have been discussing it and it’s the only thing we can think of. Maybe if we can go back to that day, stop the rogue from killing you…”

“Travelling through time is dangerous,” Dorian said, shifting beside my chair. “If you change too much of the past, it could make the future worse, and Gwen’s future is already sensitive.”

“If we don’t do this Gwen won’t
have
a future,” Fiona responded. “It’s your fault she’s even in this position.”

I shook my head as the frustration set in. The constant blame game was getting old, and on my nerves. “Actually, had Dorian not restored my soul, I would already be dead. He gave me extra time and if this time spell works, he will have saved my life. We need to stop blaming each other for things out of our control. It’s done. All I can do now is deal with it.”

Ethan’s eyes shifted to the floor while Fiona nodded in agreement. Dorian currently had his head turned so that it looked like he was staring at the wall. Maybe he was; it was hard to tell with the sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

“What do we need to travel back in time?” I asked when it seemed no one else was going to speak. At this point, I was willing to try anything. “And how long before someone from the NAWC shows up?”

“The ingredients for the spell will be difficult to get,” Ethan replied. “As for the NAWC—” He shrugged. “—Could be today or a week from now. As your government, they have a responsibility to take care of this and the longer it goes undealt with, the worse things are going to get.”

I remembered how Micah explained that each magical species has their own governments, how the vampire council was responsible for dealing with the man with the hole in his chest. The thing was, all of it circled back around to me. Did that mean that multiple councils would soon seek me out, seek to destroy me? In theory, having multiple governing houses was smart, but when those multiple houses would soon target me, it didn’t seem like such a good thing.

“Why will the ingredients be difficult to get?” I asked, my fingers fidgeting in my lap. We had to do something before one of the governments stepped in, and I didn’t think time was on our side.

“Because they’re not typical potion ingredients,” Ethan answered, his voice thick with condemnation as though he found fault in my lack of knowledge pertaining to potions and spells. “We cannot just go down to your store and pick up supplies,” he continued. “These specific materials will have to be hunted down.”

“How long will it take?” I asked.

“Best case scenario, three days,” Ethan said. “Worst case, two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Even three days made me antsy, but two flippin’ weeks? There was no way the council would leave me alone for that long. I felt the bubble of hope floating in my chest dwindling by the second.

“We’ll start searching for the items right now,” Fiona assured.

“Can I help?”

“I think it’s best you lay low,” Dorian suggested.

“He’s probably right,” Fiona said. “The less you’re in public, the better. We don’t want to draw unwanted attention.”

I gaped at them. “So I’m under house arrest?” I looked up at Dorian, my eyes pleading.

“Sorry, cupcake,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry, “if you’re in one place, I won’t have to worry about your safety. Besides, the last thing we need is some patron noticing the oddities surrounding you and taking matters into his own hands. If it’s at all possible, I’d like to keep my torturing to a minium.” He finished the statement with a wink. Ethan snorted while he and Fiona got to their feet.

“That’s it then?” I asked in disbelief. “You three decide my fate and expect me to wait around here twiddling my thumbs?”

“Of course not,” Dorian said, leaning down and kissing the top of my head. He reached for the remote and placed it in my lap. “You can watch television.” The amused smirk lifting one side of his mouth up made me want to smack him. Fiona and Ethan already exited the room and were shuffling into their jackets on their way to search for the rare materials. Dorian started toward the doorway, too.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To check in with the other spirit walkers,” he replied. “If you need anything, my number is in your cell. If anything happens, call me first. Got it?” He paused in the doorway leading to the kitchen, waiting for my answer.

“The only thing that’s going to happen is me dying of boredom.” I was unusually antsy, already climbing the walls and they hadn’t even left yet. I blamed it on the seriousness of the situation and the fact that everyone else was doing something to fix it while I sat in my pajamas. I felt completely useless.

“Lets not joke about you dying, okay?”

I nodded and watched Dorian head toward the door. When it closed behind him, the silence of my apartment intensified. It’s strange how eerily loud silence becomes when you’re alone.

Deciding not to listen to Dorian, at least about vegging out and watching television, I stood up and headed toward my bedroom. There had to be clues within its barriers that would give me an inkling as to whom I was. As I opened the door, my gaze wandered around the space. Clue number one, I am not wealthy. The room is barely big enough to contain the queen-sized bed and two dressers. When my eyes landed on the mirror, I quickly shifted to something else. I was not in the mood to see that woman pop up in the glass again. I was pretty sure she only cared about me surrendering my life and, call me crazy, but I was going to hold off doing that for now.

I moved into the room, going to the dresser. Pulling open drawers, I found stacks of neatly folded clothes. However, when I reached the bottom drawer, it held odds and ends instead of garments. The title on a large, leather bound book caught my eye.
Magick Encyclopedia
. Retrieving the book, I sat cross-legged on my bed and opened the cover. My eyes scanned down the table of contents ranging from spells to trolls and everything in between. A surprised huff left my lips when my eyes landed on the topic of vampires. Interest peaked, I flipped toward the page and began reading.

THE CREATION AND EVOLUTION
OF VAMPIRES:

The vampire virus derives from Satan himself. Lucifer was once the most beautiful angel and worked right alongside God. But Lucifer’s vanity and jealousy tainted his mind and soon he was gathering angels to overthrow his ruler. When God could not get him to repent for his sins, he was then cast out of heaven, along with the angels who chose to follow Lucifer over God.

After his fall, Lucifer was then referred to as Satan and said to rule over the firey pits of hell. It is said that after losing their angel statuses, Satan and his fallen angels transformed into demons. They loathed the love God showed his children, the humans whom Satan detested. Bitter from failing, Satan ordered his fallen angels to infect as many humans as possible with their virus, which resulted in vampirism. Satan found satisfaction in his children infecting and feeing off God’s children.

The first vampires were horrid creatures with bat-like wings and talons on their feet and hands. Every night after the sun set, the vampires would haunt the skies in search of more humans to infect. The allergy to the sun comes from the virus being of the netherworld—dark; whereas God’s children stem from the light.

Over time, the humans began conquering the evilness of the virus with the power of their humanity and free will God instilled in them. This evolution spanned over several millenniums and produced the tamer, less evil vampires we have today.

I sat back and let out an awed snort. Vampires derived from Satan himself, and I was bonded to one. Not just that, I had once been in love with one, and now I was in some sort of relationship with the angel of Death. One had bonded me to him while the other screwed up the balance of the world. I definitely had a type when it came to men.

BONDS

Vampire bonds were once used to keep track of one’s properties. By bonding themselves to their subjects, vampires were able to decipher truth from lies. Vampires have long since been distrusting of those around them due to the Great Raids of 1750 when hunters killed over six-hundred vampires.

Bonds are created when a vampire shares his blood with his intended subject, and in return drinks his or her blood. Through this blood exchange, both people are able to feel the other’s emotions. In no way does a bond create false emotions or control a person.

BREAKING BONDS

There have been many theories on how to break a bond with a vampire, but none have been proven with efficiency. There are three sure ways to dissolve a bond: A person could bond themselves to a new vampire, wait for the bond to fade itself, or kill the vampire that they are bonded to. Bonds are not permanent and normally last up to a few months if not renewed.

I pursed my lips. Being bonded to a vampire didn’t sound all that bad, considering said vampire wasn’t some kind of lunatic. Flipping through a few more pages, I read a passage revolving around trolls and goblins. According to the Magick Encyclopedia, trolls and goblins were cousin species. I also learned that pixies, although only three inches tall, were also related to fairies, who are not tiny Tinkerbell creatures, but human size. The more I read, the more fascinated I got with my new world. Well, I supposed it was only new to me because I couldn’t remember it. Still, reading about creatures once thought to be myth was entertaining enough to keep me busy most of the day.

I had been engrossed in the book for hours when a knock sounded at my front door. Pulling myself off the bed, I headed down the hall and toward it.

“Who is it?” I called through the wood. After hearing that the witches’ council was planning how to deal with me, I wasn’t going to take any chances.

“It’s Reece and Bree,” a Southern voice called.

It took me a moment to even remember if I knew a Reece or Bree. Then I remembered the spirit walkers I met the other night. Pulling open the door, I came face to face with a short woman with caramel-colored hair and wide blue eyes and a tall man with wavy brown hair and green eyes. Bree wore a pair of gray slacks with a lavender twinset. I eyed her skeptically, wondering how someone so innocent looking could deal with the dead. She looked like she belonged in a library shushing kids. Reece, on the other hand, reminded me of a cowboy, minus the tall hat. His lips curled into a grin, causing a dimple in the side of his cheek. He wore tight jeans and a plaid button-down shirt. My eyes roamed down to his feet and sure enough, cowboy boots.