Page 4 of Voyage of Magic and Malice (The Vampires of Charleston #3)

FOUR

the spell of all spells

Before leaving the library, I program the address of the home where we’re staying into Ms. Phyllis’s phone. A few minutes after we arrive, an oversized SUV slows down, stopping in front of the house. The small woman slides out of the driver’s seat, making me laugh. Her size in comparison to her mode of transportation is comedic.

“What do you think?” I ask the stoic vampire next to me.

“About what?”

“Seriously?” I scoff. “What Phyllis said about the power in your blood?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know if I believe it.”

“I do,” I answer as Phyllis makes her way into the small yard.

Thorne doesn’t respond. Instead, he offers his arm to the elderly witch. I follow the two of them into the house, not sure why his energy has changed.

“This is beautiful,” Phyllis says, running a hand over the intricately carved woodwork in the entry. “I’ve always loved these old colonial homes down here. The history they hold.” She sucks in a deep breath. “Can you imagine what these walls would say if they could talk?”

“I’m sure they’d have a lot to say,” Thorne agrees.

“Can I get you something to drink, Ms. Phyllis?” I ask.

“I’d love a water.” The look on her face changes quickly. “You do have water, don’t you?”

“Of course.” I return a few minutes later with a glass of clear liquid. Thorne is standing in the middle of the living area with Phyllis behind him. “Close your eyes and feel within,” she instructs him.

Setting her drink on a nearby table, I move to the back of the room, unsure if I should watch or join.

“Come, Elsbeth,” Phyllis answers my unasked question. Following instructions, I move closer to the duo. “Close your eyes,” she instructs me. “Feel the energy of the room.”

I do as she suggests, letting the energy from everything surrounding us vibrate through my body. Feeling energy is something I’ve been able to do since before becoming a vampire. I remember several times while growing up that I was able to feel the energy from our farmland. My father sometimes would ask what the land felt like before each planting season. Through the past few weeks, I’ve found it easier to draw on that ability and feel the energy surrounding me.

The power slowly forms in the pit of my stomach and works its way through my body. “That’s it,” Phyllis whispers. “Now let it go.” I open my eyes, releasing the power into the open fireplace, setting the gas logs aflame.

“Impressive.” The witch nods. “What else can you do?”

“Nothing more than communicating with Thorne telepathically.”

Phyllis turns toward the captain. “What about you?”

“Compared to Elsie, nothing. I can’t light anything on fire. I can’t fly.” He shrugs. “I’m just me.”

“May I?” Phyllis asks, stepping in front of Thorne and holding her hands toward him.

“Aye.” He looks confused as she places the palms of her hands on his shoulders. “Communicate with each other.”

Thorne laughs through my mind. “This seems weird.”

“Aye, it is. But I trust her.”

Phyllis sucks in a deep breath. “Where is your family from?”

“Scotland,” he answers, repeating the same response as the first time we met the older witch.

“All of them?” She continues.

“Aye. As far as I know. It wasn’t possible to trace your ancestry in the 18 th century. What I knew was from word of mouth.”

Phyllis steps away. “May I perform a spell?”

Thorne looks at me before answering. “Aye.” His voice is soft.

“Elsbeth, do you have a candle?”

“I think so.” Rummaging through the kitchen, I find a soft pink tapered candle. “Will this work?” I show her my discovery.

“It’ll do. It’s not the color but the intention.” Phyllis takes the candle, lights the wick, and lets a bit of the wax drop onto a small plate before placing the base in the wax. “I need you to relax. I’ve never tried something like this on a vampire.” She laughs at her words. “That sounded crazy to say out loud.” Phyllis clears her throat. “Here we go.” She takes a deep breath. “By blood and night, I call on your power, awaken the magic in this hour. From heart of dark, let it rise, witch’s strength, now realize. Vampire’s gift, added to flame, magic flows, speak your name.”

I stare at Thorne, half expecting him to float or glow or—something. He opens his eyes, looking around the room. “Did it work?” he asks.

“We won’t know,” the witch answers.

“Ms. Phyllis? What’s the point in that spell if we can’t tell if it works?” I cross my arms across my chest, trying not to show my annoyance through body language. With my words, the candle explodes into flames, burning to the plate instantly.

“There’s your answer.”

“I don’t feel anything,” Thorne admits.

With his words, the energy in the house changes. What felt comfortable moments earlier now feels heavy, almost overwhelming. “What’s happening?” I ask anyone.

A loud knock on the door makes me jump. I laugh at the irony of a vampire jumping at the sound. “There’s a wolf here,” Phyllis answers.

Thorne opens the door to find Cameron St. James on the other side. “I hope you don’t mind. Topher told me where to find you.” Unlike the last time we saw him, he’s dressed and wearing a pair of skintight jeans and a rock band T-shirt that shows every ridge, muscle, and bulge.

“Hellooo,” Phyllis says, moving behind Thorne. “I’ve always been partial to wolves.”

Cam’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as he stares at the older woman. “Thank you?”

“Are you Cam?” I ask the tall man at our door.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but how can we trust that?”

Phyllis answers for the lycanthrope. “What do you feel, Thorne?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you feel? Let his energy wash over you. Does he feel like me or a wolf?”

Thorne stands in silence, staring at the young wolf. “He feels like a lycanthrope. He feels like Topher.”

“That’s because I am a lycanthrope. Can I come in? I have some news about…” He cuts his words short, looking at Phyllis.

“She knows,” I fill in the blanks.

“Oh!” His eyes open wide as he enters the house. “I did some digging after our meeting earlier. It seems that Sable’s been in town for several days.”

“Honey, she’s been in and out of town for years. She’s determined to get her hands on that grimoire.”

“Are you after the grimoire, too?” Cam asks.

Phyllis’s warm laugh fills the room. “No, dear. I’m here merely as a guide.”

“Okay. That answers a ton of questions.” Cam’s sarcasm makes me smile.

“Don’t worry. We’re confused, too.” I turn to Phyllis. “What do you know about Sable?”

“You might want to sit down.” Thorne sits on the edge of the couch with me at his side. Cam chooses a footstool on the other side of the room while Phyllis stands in the middle of the room, reminding me of a teacher about to give a lecture. She takes a drink of water before speaking.

“Sable Arden is one of the most powerful witches alive today. She started just as everyone does, learning magic from her ancestors. Witchcraft can skip generations or be more powerful in one generation than others. With Sable, it seemed like the goddess shined on her. From early childhood, she had more power than anyone her age. As she grew, so did her powers along with a thirst for control.”

“If Sable’s so strong, why does she want Aaron’s grimoire?” I ask.

Cam raises his hand. “I can answer that.”

“Go ahead, hot stuff.” Phyllis’s flirting lightens the conversation.

“I don’t know how much you know about Aaron Abernathy other than he was a powerful warlock,” he continues.

“He was an infant the last time I saw him.” I admit. “Phyllis would know more about his magic than me.”

Phyllis laughs. “My job was to protect the grimoire, not to read it.”

I stare at the witch. “You spent your life guarding the grimoire but never used what was in it?”

“No, dear. If you remember, the grimoire was set so that only Aaron’s sister, meaning you, could open it. Even if I’d wanted to read his grimoire, I wouldn’t have been able to get inside. His magic was and is protected.”

“How did you become its guardian?” Thorne asks the question of the day.

“Aaron was the founder of my coven. Since his death, my ancestors have been tasked with caring for and protecting the grimoire. It’s an honor and privilege that I was happy to uphold.” Phyllis takes a deep breath. “Sable’s family belonged to his coven as well.”

“Did she know the grimoire was under your care?” Cam asks, sliding forward in his seat.

“No one knows who the keepers are. Several have sought to find out through the years, but none have tried to take it—until now.”

“Why now? Why is she trying to get her hands on his grimoire?” Thorne asks.

“Because her great-great-grandmother, Serafina, was powerful, just as Sable is. Serafina sought Aaron’s power for years, challenging for leadership of the coven many times. Because of that, she, along with her future descendants, were cast out.”

“Challenged him for leadership? This sounds more like a lycan story than a witch tale.” Cam stands, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Agreed,” Phyllis answers. “Serafina arrived from Scotland a few years after Aaron. She was a teenager when she arrived, and the two of them grew into their power together. Some say they were lovers.”

“Lovers?” I repeat. The thought of my infant brother with a lover feels—icky.

“As they grew, so did her selfishness and greed. She fought for control over the coven, stating she was the stronger of the two.”

“That led to her banishment.” Cam fills in the blank.

“That and the spell,” the witch answers.

“Go on,” I urge.

“Serafina created a spell that would bind and compel supernatural creatures.” Phyllis pauses, letting the information sink in.

“Paranormal creatures? You mean people like us?” Thorne asks.

“Among others. The spell even gave her dominion over other witches.”

“What would be the purpose?” Cam asks, stepping closer to Phyllis.

The older witch laughs. “Imagine what kind of an army she could amass by commanding those who normally resist being bound. Serafina sought control over everyone and everything. Control like that would allow her to conquer or destroy anyone who stood in her way.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper. “Where is the spell now?”

“I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”

I stand, heading straight for the table where I carelessly laid the grimoire when we left for what we thought was New Orleans. I take a deep breath, seeing the book in the same spot and position as earlier. Hugging it to my body, I carry it back into the living area. Phyllis smiles, seeing the book held tightly in my arms.

“By using his own spell, Aaron stole Serafina’s binding spell and placed it inside the grimoire,” Phyllis continues.

Opening the cover, I flip through the pages of perfect penmanship. “Some of these pages are blank.”

“Oh, they’re not blank, dear,” the witch answers. “The spells are hidden. They will show themselves when needed.” She makes the statement as if I should already know how the witch world works.

“Sable wants Serafina’s spell,” Cam says.

“Yes,” Phyllis agrees. “She seeks to control all of us.”

“We can’t allow that to happen.” Thorne stands, leaving me alone on the couch.

“I have no intention of letting that happen.” I move to his side, still gripping the grimoire.

Phyllis huffs a laugh. “It’s going to take more than the three of you to defeat her. She’s not going to stop until she gets the spell or she’s dead.”

“No offense, Phyllis. You’re one person, and you kept the grimoire safe for years.” My words come out harsher than intended.

“Dear child, if you think I did that alone, you are mistaken. I had the power of my ancestors with me. Each spell was built on top of earlier spells, strengthening them and helping to keep the grimoire hidden. The moment the grimoire left my care, those spells were gone, and Sable was able to pinpoint the location of the book.”

“Dammit,” I sigh. “What about the children?” I ask Thorne.

“What children?” Cam asks.

I close my eyes, not sure how to explain who the children are without an hour-long soliloquy. “Three immortal children were taken by Eudora, the Goddess of the Sea, and her demigod daughter, Marnie. The children are our priority right now. We’ll keep the grimoire safe until we find them, then worry about Sable.”

“Elsbeth. If Sable gets her hands on the spell contained in that book, the immortal children will be no more. Neither will any of you. At least the way that you know. One thing I’ve learned through old age is that sometimes priorities change.” Phyllis’s tone turns less jovial.

“I can’t abandon them.” I fight the tears threatening to fall.

“No one is asking you to abandon them. But in order to win the war and save them, this is a battle that must be fought first.” Phyllis’s words hit home. I know she’s right, but the thought of Alex, Autumn, and Everly suffering at the hands of that monster for one more day is nearly more than I can take.

“She’s right, acushla.”

“For what it’s worth, I agree.” Cam props his arms on his hips, flexing his thick biceps in the process.

I turn toward the older witch. “What do we need to do?”

“It’s easy.” She smiles. “With the combination of your powers and the grimoire, you stand a chance.”

“Stand a chance? You mean, even with our abilities and being vampires, we merely stand a chance against this woman?”

“Eh, I’d say fifty-fifty.” The look on Phyllis’s face tells me she thinks these are good odds.

“That’s half,” Cam adds. “I’ll take that.”

“Aye,” Thorne adds, wrapping his long fingers through mine.

“How do we find her?”

“We won’t have to search. She found you once, she’ll find you again. Especially now that she knows you have the book.” Phyllis moves toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to place some protection around the home and property.” She exits through the foyer, leaving Thorne and me alone with the oversized lycanthrope.

“Charleston is way more exciting than New Orleans.” Cam smiles as he speaks. “Oh, I hope that didn’t offend anyone.”

“No offense taken. Seems you’re correct.” Thorne bends down, kissing me on the forehead. “I’m going to see if I can help.”

Cam doesn’t respond as he follows Thorne outside. Thoughts of the children flash through my mind. I know Phyllis is right. To save them, we have to stop Sable first. I collapse onto the couch behind me, still clutching the grimoire. For the first time in a while, I allow a dark thought into my mind. Maybe I should’ve let Kragen kill me…