Page 8 of Voyage of Magic and Malice (The Vampires of Charleston #3)

EIGHT

what just happened?

Several hours pass before Phyllis stumbles down the large staircase. Her normally perfectly coiffed hair is a disaster of frizz, reminding me of a rat’s nest. “What’s going on?” she asks, her words slightly slurred. “The energy is heavy and called to me.”

“Thorne left,” I answer truthfully.

“Is he not allowed to leave?” She scoffs.

“He wasn’t acting like himself. He was angry and cruel. Definitely out of character for him. I’m the angry and cruel one. Thorne is levelheaded and wise.”

“Where’s the hot wolf?”

“He followed Thorne,” Nyssa answers.

“So, what are we thinking?” Phyllis asks both of us.

“He’s in trouble,” I admit, allowing fear to take over my thoughts. I stand, moving toward the door. “I shouldn’t have let him go.”

“Elsie, stop,” Phyllis interrupts. “Right now, he needs to be alone.”

“He needs someone who understands,” I retort.

“Do you understand? Because I don’t.” Nyssa stands, moving closer to the door. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, let him figure this out on his own. He’s a grown-ass man.”

Nyssa’s words stop me in my tracks. She’s right. Thorne is grown and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. My life trauma makes me feel like I have to fix everyone and everything. The front door opens, and Cam enters. “Where’s Thorne?”

“He asked me to leave him alone.”

“And you did? What if he does something dumb, or…or hurts someone?” I fight the tears forming in my eyes. Dammit, Elsie.

“I understand your frustration. He asked me to tell you to trust him and that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid.” Cam runs a hand through his already messy hair.

“Where was he when you left him?” My voice is no louder than a whisper.

“On the riverbank.”

“Why do I feel so helpless?”

“You’re not helpless, Elsie,” Phyllis says, moving to my side. “Thorne will be okay. Everything he’s known for the past three centuries has changed in one day. Give him a little grace to figure things out.”

“He made a plate fall out of the cabinet earlier.”

Phyllis looks at me and wrinkles her forehead. “Did he pick it up?”

“Not physically…with magic. He was angry. The plate lifted off the shelf and slammed to the floor.” The witches share a look. “Is that not normal?” I ask.

“For some, yes. For others, no.” Nyssa leans forward in her seat. “Not all witches control their power the same. Powers are as individualized as hair color.”

“Nyssa is correct. It’s also not custom for witches to share their methodology.” Phyllis pulls a book from the overcrowded shelf. She holds the book in front of her, opening the pages wide. Like when we first met, the pages begin to flip as if someone were controlling them.

“An air witch,” Nyssa says. “Nice.”

“Air witch? What does that mean?”

“It means I can manipulate the wind, or in this case, a soft breeze that turns book pages. Thorne’s manipulation of the plate would be a form of air magic.”

“What form does Serafina hold?” Nyssa asks.

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

“You’ve come in contact with her?”

“We have. She pretended to be Fran and Cam.” I scoff at the memory.

Nyssa’s eyes grow slightly. “Serafina pretended to be someone else? Did she accomplish this by changing her looks or changing the environment?”

I think back to our first encounter. “The environment. She made Thorne and I think we flew to New Orleans and visited a new vampire.”

Nyssa sits heavily on the couch. “Her power has grown.”

I turn toward my house guest. “What do you mean? Do you know her other than through the books in your library?” Energy forms at my core.

“Yes,” she answers. “Before you hit me with whatever you’re brewing in there,” she points at my core, “it’s not what you think. She came to me looking for Aaron’s grimoire.”

“You just now thought to tell us this?” I spew. “It wasn’t important before?”

“It was important, just not pertinent, and you didn’t ask.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Nyssa stands, moving across the room. “She determined it was being held by our coven. She found out my ancestors were the ones in charge of the paranormal library and assumed his grimoire would be there.” Nyssa looks at Phyllis. “She was wrong.”

“When was this?” Phyllis asks.

“About six months ago.”

“You think her power has grown in that time? How do you know?” Phyllis continues.

Nyssa inhales deeply. “Being a hybrid, my senses are heightened. It’s allowed me to keep the library safe and what allowed me to feel your power.”

“Nonsense,” Phyllis interrupts. “I felt their power. Lycan blood had nothing to do with that.”

“It’s stronger with me.” Nyssa closes her eyes. “I know a person’s ability just by feeling their energy.” She turns toward me. “Like Phyllis, you’re an elemental witch. You wield fire, along with an ability to listen to people’s minds.”

“Cam,” she turns toward the stoic lycanthrope. “There is magic in your bloodline, but it’s not very strong.”

Cam shifts from foot to foot. “What kind of magic?”

“It feels bound in nature.”

He laughs awkwardly. “I can control nature?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. When you’re in wolf form, you have more control than in human form. You have slight control over the trees.”

“I do?”

“They bend and move at your will.”

“Damn.” He breathes. “When I was a kid, I felt like the trees spoke to me. My brothers told me I was dumb.”

“They did. You are one with them,” Nyssa continues. She turns back to me. “I felt Serafina’s power. Her power was strong, yet I didn’t feel the ability to alter reality.”

“For someone as old as Serafina, I doubt she would be acquiring new abilities. My guess is she had knowledge of your ability and hid her power from you.” Phyllis’s words make sense.

“What’s the purpose of all of this?” I ask the obvious question. “Yes, you said Aaron’s grimoire holds a binding spell she was working on, but she’s not dumb. If Serafina created a spell to bind paranormal creatures, Aaron taking the words away wouldn’t take the spell away. She created it once; she can create it again. I’m guessing she’s after something other than the binding spell.”

Phyllis’s eyes grow several sizes. “Where’s the grimoire?”

“In my room,” I answer, pointing upstairs.

“Would you get it, dear?”

I follow instructions, moving upstairs at vampire speed. The book is exactly where I left it, safely on top of the nightstand. I’m back downstairs in the blink of an eye.

“May I?” Phyllis asks, reaching for the book.

I reach to hand it to her before something inside questions what I’m doing. My stomach ties into knots, something I haven’t felt since becoming a vampire. I pull the book back to me. “Phyllis, what was the name of the girl who contacted me about the grimoire again? I seem to have forgotten her name.”

“What are you talking about, Elsie?” the elder witch asks.

“You know. The girl who spent her summer cleaning up the basement. I can’t seem to remember her name.”

“Give me the book.” She ignores my question.

“Phyllis?”

Nyssa moves closer to my side as the energy in the room shifts slightly. “What’s going on?” Cam asks, feeling the shift.

“Don’t be silly. I’m old and can’t remember a damn intern’s name. We’ve had so many over the years, they all run together.”

“Take a guess,” I encourage her, holding on to the book.

“Was it Emma, or was that last summer? Maybe it was Eloise.” She takes a step closer. “Damn, I can’t remember.”

“What was her name, Phyllis?” I ask one last time.

In an instant, the elderly witch transforms into Serafina's beautiful face. “Damn, I thought I fooled you.”

“Serafina,” Nyssa whispers. “It was you the entire time.”

“Not the entire time, just the last hour or so.” She stretches her hands high above her head in a pretend stretch. “Phyllis had a nice nap.”

“Where is she?” Cam asks.

“Don’t worry, wolf. She’s safe. I didn’t hurt a hair on her little white head.”

“How’d you get past the wards?” I ask.

“Pfff.” She scoffs. “Wards are for weaklings. I’m not a weakling.” She reaches her hand toward me once more. “Give me the book, Elsbeth.”

“You already have the binding spell. What’s in here that you want so badly?”

“Nothing that concerns you, bloodsucker.”

“My brother’s grimoire concerns me,” I retort.

She stalks closer. “You never knew Aaron. I did.” She stops inches from my face. “He was weak, like you.”

“Aaron Abernathy was a powerful warlock,” Nyssa argues.

Serafina smiles. “A warlock is only as strong as his ability. Like you, he lacked in that area. Although, he was well-endowed and quite fun to play with. Did you know he used to cry after he came?”

“Shut up,” I spew.

“You have no claim to his grimoire. It should be mine,” she argues.

“You’ll have to go through me first,” I warn.

“That won’t be an issue.”

Instinctively, something takes over my energy, causing me to place my hand on the rune covering the front cover. “Pages bound and secrets kept, in silent shadows, tightly slept. None shall read nor pry inside until my voice calls to unbind.” Words spew from my mouth as if they’ve been there all along.

“Bitch!” Serafina yells. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.

“You bound the book. Undo it.”

“I…I don’t know how.” Holding the book tight to my chest, I make eye contact with Cam. He nods, letting me know he understands what I’m about to do. Seconds later, he transforms into a beautiful dark brown wolf. His shoulders are taller than Serafina’s head.

“You don’t scare me, wolf.”

He growls, filling the house with sound. “Go,” he says into my mind. “Don’t let her get his book.”

One wolf turns into two as Nyssa transforms into Cam’s solid black twin, nearly as tall as Cam. Piercing green eyes glare at Serafina as she scoffs at the lycan. I don’t wait around to see what happens. I’m through the door and at the river’s edge seconds later. “Thorne!” I call through our connection. “Thorne!”

“Here,” a deep voice says behind me.

I turn, finding the man that I love. His hair is disheveled, and his clothes are torn. “What happened?” I ask.

“I…I fell into the river.”

“You fell into the river?” I repeat, trying to make sense of his words. Vampires don’t just fall.

“Aye. What’s happened? Why do you have the grimoire?”

“Serafina’s at the house. Cam and Nyssa are with her. She pretended to be Phyllis.” Words fly out of my mouth in rapid succession. “We have to get out of here.”

“Okay. Give me the book. I’m stronger than you and can keep it safe.”

“You’re not stronger than me,” I argue. “I’m older and lived off of human blood for centuries. I’m stronger. You know that.”

Without responding, Thorne reaches his hand toward me, lacing his long fingers through mine. I follow him away from the river’s edge. “We have to go, Thorne. She’ll be here soon. The lycan won’t be able to keep her from following me for much longer.”

He turns, facing me. “Give me the grimoire, Elsie.”

“Thorne?”

Bright blue eyes close, and the energy around us changes. Shadows form and pulsate with a silent tempo. Thorne begins chanting inaudible words as the wind picks up even more. I tighten my grip on the book, feeling its magic meld with mine. “Thorne,” I beg. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t need to know,” he whispers. “The magic knows.”

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me.”

Energy forms in my core, ready to be released into the man I love. “Thorne, please. Don’t make me do this.”

“Give me the grimoire, Elsie.” His voice is flat and void of emotion.

“No.”

“Then I’ll take it.” He reaches toward the book, easily unlatching my hands from the cover. I have no strength to fight him. He takes the book and looks me in the eyes. “Goodbye, Elsie. Don’t try to find me.” Thorne steps away.

“Good boy,” a voice says. I turn, finding the familiar form of Serafina. “Father would be so proud.” I watch in horror as Thorne moves to her side with Aaron’s grimoire in his grip. He hands the book to his half sister before turning back toward me.

“This is for the best, Elsie. Trust me.” The two of them disappear into the night, leaving me standing alone on the banks of the Ashley River.

I blink several times, hoping reality will return and what just happened was a figment of my overactive imagination.

“Elsie,” Cam’s deep voice says through my mind. I turn, finding two wolves standing on the street in plain sight of humans.

“She has him,” I whisper. “Serafina has Thorne.”

“Where’s the grimoire?” Nyssa asks.

“She has that too…” My eyes close, and the world goes black.