Before she left, the hazy mass surrounded Brandon. Sabrina could tell it whispered something to him and then moved back into the sky. He lifted his face to follow it.
“I promise,” he called out after her.
Looking past Brandon, Sabrina caught sight of Eleanor sprawled out lying motionless. She was breathing slowly and steadily. It appeared to be costing her a great deal just to stay conscious. Camilla sat by her head, whining and licking her bloodied face. Eleanor raised a trembling hand to the side of the werewolf’s muzzle. A cool, light green glow spread across Camilla’s furry face and was absorbed by Eleanor. A light breeze picked up. Words whispered in the wind, and red warmth radiated out from under Eleanor’s palm. Her hand fell away as the red glow was absorbed into Camilla’s body.
“Eleanor!” Sabrina screamed. She ran to her aunt’s side, flapping her hands uselessly in her excitement. There was nothing outwardly wrong with her that Sabrina could see. She took the older woman’s hands in hers and squeezed them gently. “Please, Eleanor, tell me what to do. Tell me how to help you.” She pushed a large lock of wild red hair out of the way.
Eleanor smiled up at her and then grimaced. Quickly, she regained control of her pain. “There is no helping me, child. My quiver has always hidden a silver dagger underneath. It broke through when I landed on my back,” she panted.
“Brandon! Call 911! Eleanor needs to get to the ER!” Sabrina looked up to find Brandon giving her a mournful look. A glance at her father’s face told her everything she needed to know. It was too late. There was no hope. Her eyes stung. A racking sob caught her off guard. The ever-reliable Eleanor was dying.
Eleanor waved off the ideas if it were an annoying fly. “No time. After nearly two thousand years, I have no time to say all I need you to hear.” She gasped and clamped down on Sabrina’s hand. “Impaled on my own sword, so to speak. I always knew the Jewel would never have to be destroyed, and yet I carried it, as ordered. It has been my privilege and honor to be your guardian, Sabrina, Daughter of Aradia, Goddess of Midnight.” Sabrina froze in shocked disbelief. Eleanor gave her a pained smile. “You truly are the most beautiful jewel your mother ever had.” She gave a weak smile and breathed out her last. Her hand went limp in Sabrina’s.
Sabrina collapsed across Eleanor’s chest and wept. Cool hands slid over her shoulders and tugged her away from the fading body. Whether she had been there ten minutes or ten years, she did not know. Grief filled her completely. In one night, she had lost two mothers. She stared down at the glittering pile of iridescent dust forming where Eleanor once lay. She thought of Clay, how he must be doing the same thing in the trunk of Eleanor’s car. She remained on the ground, turned, and buried her face in whomever the leg behind her belonged to.
“You still have me. I’m no Eleanor, but I will do my best,” Hadrian said, kneeling and pulling her into a hug. He propped his chin on the top of her head and sighed. “If I had known, I would have fought with everything I had to bring you home. But, you’re here now. That’s all that matters. I love your mother and always will. I will love you forever.” He wiped the tears from her face with a tattered shirt sleeve and gave her a warm smile. His fangs glinted in the last vestiges of night. He lifted them both off the ground in a swift, single motion.
Brandon walked to her side and took her hand. Familiar heat rushed across her skin. She left Hadrian’s embrace, throwing herself in Brandon’s arms. She inhaled his earthy, dark-amber scent. One word came to mind. Home. Everything she had ever known was wrong or gone. The men standing with her were her family and future now. She took comfort in the knowledge and stopped crying.
Off to one side, someone cleared their throat. “I hate to break up the party, folks, but dawn will be here soon. We need to get this mess cleaned up and get home,” Farrell said nervously looking up at the sky. He had moved to Camilla’s side and was stroking the top of her head. She pressed her face into his waist, hiding her eyes.
Camilla made a guttural noise deep in her chest. The air around her rippled with energy as she took human form. She was dirty and naked. There was still blood on her face where her muzzle had been. Farrell helped her to her feet. She gave him an appraising look. She smiled as if she were seeing something that pleased her for the first time. Then she turned to observe to the scene behind her. “What are we supposed to do with the statue? Call a museum?”
“No. The mirror is still active,” Hadrian said, pointing to the large glowing crystal underneath it. “We’ll push him and all the bodies back through. That’ll clean up most of the mess.”
Farrell did not wait to be asked. He walked up to Lucifer’s statue, with its twisted, anguished face, and gave it a hard shove. It broke through the mirror’s surface. Sabrina watched as it fell through to the other side. It cracked into large pieces as it landed awkwardly on its side. Hadrian and Brandon pushed the two men through. They landed in an unceremonious heap on top of their former master. Camilla added Scarlett to the pile and tossed Carrie’s head in as hard as she could.
From somewhere in the mirror’s distance, men shouted. There were a few feminine screams. Boots echoing on a stone floor in a cavernous space was heard.
“Unless we want company, I suggest we destroy the mirror,” Brandon advised.
Hadrian picked up the large crystal underneath, breaking the connection. As he did, a spear point became embedded in the surface. A second spear cracked the mirror from the inside.
Sabrina lifted her hand to the gilded frame and thought about it being in a million pieces. It crumpled to the ground in tiny fragments. Then she concentrated on sending it to the balcony where she and Brandon had left the bed. The rubble disappeared. As far as she was concerned, the Earth was better off without it.
Farrell started pulling at his outdated, overwide tie. “It’s getting hot out here. We can’t drive home before dawn. Where are we going to spend the day?”
Sabrina waved them over to her. Camilla hung back. A new inner peace seemed to have replaced the werewolf’s obsessive jealousy. Sabrina guessed removing the jealousy and the pain it caused had been Camilla’s reward. Eleanor had gone to her death fulfilling every promise and duty faithfully. On the verge of more tears, Sabrina whispered, “You, too. Everyone hold hands in a circle.” Camilla joined the oddly formed group. Farrell offered her a place next to him and gave a shy, friendly smile. She inhaled deeply and returned the gesture. “Close your eyes and think of Brandon’s living room. Think of it and nothing else. No matter what, do not let go.”
She closed her eyes and focused on the group’s collective thoughts of home. A wave rolled from her center and rippled out along the circle’s perimeter. It was her heart’s desire to go where they wanted to be. The ground spun below them, her head felt dizzy, and then they were back. Exhausted, Sabrina collapsed. The last thing she saw was Brandon’s face directly over hers, his hand behind her head. He said something she did not understand, and the world went black.
* * * *
“Sabrina! Sabrina, can you hear me? Sabrina?” Brandon was frantic. He looked up at Hadrian. “What do we do?”
“She’s had a hard night. I doubt she has ever used as much magic as it took to bring us home. Being a demigoddess instead of a full-blooded goddess, her powers are not unlimited. She’ll need to recharge when she uses too much. Put her to bed, and let her rest,” Hadrian suggested.
Brandon lifted her off the floor. Hadrian led the way down the hall to her room. The staff had been back. The room was cleaned and ready for the day. He laid her as gently as he could on the bed. “Carrie’s spell must have ended with her death,” Branson surmised. “We need to get someone good to place wards around the building against further attacks. Who do you suggest?”
“Oh, I know a demon or two who would be excellent for the job, if money is no object. I’ll make the call while you get her ready for bed.” Quietly, Hadrian left.
Brandon took off her shoes and jeans, tossing them into the far corner. He went to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. The sight of his bedroom through his other door stopped him. His bed was back with a note on a large, curling piece of parchment. He scanned the room from the doorway for traps or intruders before going over to pick it up. The handwriting was sharp and printed, as if the author was unaccustomed to the alphabet.
Mr. Thorpe,
I have returned your bed. It is lovely but is too new for my taste.
Diana, Goddess of Night, Queen of Witches
Brandon sat down on his bed, staring at the note. It was unbelievable. She had the power to send an antique bed back from the moon, and did nothing to stop Lucifer from attempting to kidnap Sabrina.
“What a fucked-up family,” he said aloud.
“Yeah, all the Ancients are,” Hadrian said from the door. “You should have seen how bad Diana’s parents were. Well, I guess you have. They don’t have the same understanding of the world as we do. They thrive on human attention, need it actually. Their diminishing power and influence come from a lack of followers.”
“You mean people willed them into existence?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. Aradia told me they came to Earth so long ago, they don’t remember their origins. The energy humans spent on looking for answers to life’s questions and the subsequent prayers made them more powerful. So, they cultivated the energy and vied with one another from more devoted followers. As people evolved their faiths, the Ancients became less powerful. Some gave up and turned to stone willingly. Others were hunted and trapped by Lucifer. After tonight, there are only two Ancients and Aradia left. As long as people find ways to worship the sun and the moon, Apollo and Diana will remain in Helios and the Castle of Night,” Hadrian explained. He came over and sat beside Brandon. “Sabrina will always be attractive to them. Her ability to use both light and dark magic will make her a target.”
“That’s what Aradia said,” Brandon agreed.
“What did she make you promise?”
“She wanted me to promise to protect her, at all costs. She told me what to do and asked it be kept a secret. She said you would understand,” Brandon confessed, looking down at his hands. He did not like keeping things from his boss, but Aradia had made him promise.
“Enough said then.” Hadrian looked over his shoulder at the bed. “I think I will sleep here for the day or what’s left of it. You go look after Sabrina.”
“You’re going to encourage me to get in bed with your daughter? Am I not the sort of man fathers warned their daughters about?” Brandon gave the elder vampire a suspicious look.
“One, I believe she truly loves you. Love at first sight is rare, but it does happen. Two, I think you love her back. The cad I once knew is gone. I can see it in your eyes. When you look at her, you aren’t seeing anything else. When you think of her, you don’t hear or think of anything else. She’s the one. And three, I already know you deflowered her. Now get in there and do your duty as her mate to care for and protect her. You’re going to make an honest woman of my little girl, and she will be happy. Understand?” A stern expression had settled in Hadrian’s eyes. Brandon wasn’t sure he wanted to know what would happen if he failed at his appointed task.
“Yes, sir, I will,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster.
Brandon went back to Sabrina’s room. She was still asleep, just the way he had left her. He took the now cold washcloth and wiped Eleanor’s blood from her face and hands. He tucked her in and got ready for bed. As he lay beside Sabrina, drowsy, he thought he heard a light tinkling bell. It only rang once and was gone. Ignoring it, he spooned her body and nodded off.
* * * *
Sabrina woke up alone facing the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. Its greenish glow was the only light in the room. It glared the time, 8:02 p.m. Sunset had been almost an hour ago. She recognized her room in Brandon’s apartment. He must have put her to bed. She felt sticky from being in the muggy summer heat last night. Her hair was matted and stiff. She needed a shower.
Talking and the sounds of glassware clinking came from the public rooms. She knew she was not in the apartment alone. She did not care. Eleanor and Clay were gone. Grief left her a little numb.
She went to shower without taking a robe or any clothes. She stripped off her shirt and bra. Her panties were dropped and kicked haphazardly. She lifted her hand to the shower. The water came on and the door opened for her. She stepped in, not bothering to close the door. The cool water felt good. It beat down on her face. Streams ran down the length of her body, rinsing away the stress and grime. No one interrupted her. No one checked in. She appreciated the alone time.
When she was sufficiently clean, she twirled her fingers at the knobs, turning off the water. Raising her hand palm up, the towel drifted across the room to her. The floor had become wet from where she had not closed the shower door. She made a wiping motion and imagined the floor dry and clean. The water disappeared, as if she had a sponge in her hand. She stepped out and made a waving motion at the glass door. It closed slowly and clicked shut.
Sabrina ran the towel through her hair and wrapped it around her wet body. She leaned over the sink and thought of all she had lost. Her chest tightened. Tears dripped into the basin. She was on the edge of a crying jag.