Page 9 of Voyage of Magic and Malice (The Vampires of Charleston #3)

NINE

the lycan, the witch, and the ward…wait—wrong book

My eyes open, staring at the ceiling high above my head. Ornate beams, dark with age, run vertically across the room. A decorative brass chandelier hangs in the middle, each bulb cradled in handblown glass. Where the hell am I? Did I pass out? Have I been asleep? That’s absurd. I haven’t slept in over three hundred years, and vampires don’t pass out.

I’m on my feet with my hand on the thick wooden door a heartbeat later. Slowing my movements, I turn the knob, opening it to a nonthreatening hallway. Soft voices ring through the house, and lycan energy fills the rooms. Giving myself a few minutes to acclimate, I recognize the energy instantly. Nyssa and Cam are here.

I move down the stairs with the stealth of a cat. Cam is the first to see me. He’s wearing a T-shirt that’s at least two sizes too small with the logo “Juicy” stretched tightly across his chest.

“Elsie,” he says, standing and moving toward me. “You’re okay.”

Am I okay? “I think so. What happened?”

“You passed out,” Nyssa answers.

“I passed out.” I scoff. “I’m a fucking vampire. I don’t pass out.”

“You might want to tell whoever is in charge of vampire rules that they were wrong. You definitely passed out.” Cam moves to my side, offering me an arm and motioning toward a chair.

“I’m good,” I refuse help, walking to the same chair. “Phyllis?” I ask, looking around the room.

“She’s upstairs, still asleep. Serafina didn’t harm her, just morphed into her.” Nyssa stands, moving toward a different room. “I have goat’s blood in the refrigerator. Let me get some.”

I look around, realizing we’re in the house where we met Nyssa hours earlier. “How did I get here?”

“I carried you.” Cam looks at the wide plank floor under his feet. “When Thorne left with…when he left, you collapsed. I shifted and brought you here.”

“You carried me naked?”

Cam smiles, lifting one side of his face higher than the other. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”

I try not to think about Cam’s private areas touching me. Instead, I focus on the fact that I passed out—something a vampire shouldn’t be able to do. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Serafina compromised the wards at your home. We thought this was our best option for the moment,” Nyssa answers, handing me a warm bottle of blood.

Goat’s blood usually makes me nauseous, and it takes a while for me to drink an entire bottle. This time, I drain the bottle in one gulp. The richness of flavors covers my palette the entire way down. “Thank you.”

“Elsie?” Cam moves back in front of me. “What happened?”

Memories flood my mind, filling me with anxiety. “Thorne took the grimoire.”

“He just took it from you?”

“No.” I close my eyes at the memory. “He started chanting something I didn’t recognize. The shadows surrounding us seemed to dance with his words.” I can’t fight the tears from falling. “I didn’t fight him. I just let him have it.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” Nyssa tries to reassure me.

“There’s always a choice,” I argue.

“Not when magic is involved.” She stands, moving to a bookshelf. “It sounds like Thorne used a compulsion spell on you. You couldn’t have fought him if you’d tried.”

“I never would’ve hurt him.”

“He knew that.” Nyssa opens the book, setting it in front of me. “Are these the words he was chanting?” The spell in front of me is in a language I don’t recognize.

“How am I supposed to know?”

Nyssa pulls the book away. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe you could read Latin.”

“I was born on a farm in Scotland, where I worked until the day my mother bought passage for a ship bound for Charles Town, South Carolina. For the next one hundred years, I lived in the bowels of a pirate ship where I was tortured, abused, and starved.” I stand, moving across the room. “Anything I know, I learned on my own. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Latin wasn’t one of my top priorities.”

“So, that means, no?” Cam asks. His words bring me back to the present and the reality of my behavior.

“Nyssa, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

She waves her hands dismissively. “No worries. I understand.”

“It doesn’t give me permission to be a bitch.”

“What the hell kind of nap did I take?” a weak voice says from the staircase landing. “I could’ve sworn Thorne helped me find a bed in Elsie’s house. Now I’m here. Who wants to explain?” Phyllis crosses her arms across her chest.

Cam moves to her side, sliding a long arm around her frail body. “Let me help you.”

At his touch, Phyllis’s weight magically gives out, and she falls into his arms. “Oh, thank you, Cameron, but it might be better for you to carry me.” She wrinkles her forehead at his clothing. “What the hell are you wearing?”

The lycanthrope swoops her into his arms, pulling her close to his chest as he carries her to the couch we all shared earlier. She makes eye contact with me, wiggling her eyebrows as he pulls away from her clutches. “My clothing choices were limited,” he answers finally. “Nyssa is a bit smaller than me.”

“Thank you, for helping me, I mean. Not for wearing clothes.” She looks between me and Nyssa. “I feel like I’ve missed the ending of an amazing book.” She glances around the room. “Where’s Thorne?”

“Phyllis, what was the name of the intern that gave me information on the grimoire?” I refuse to fall victim to Serafina’s charades once again.

The elder witch looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Abigail? Does she have something to do with Thorne not being here?”

“No.” I sigh before explaining everything that happened, trying to remember every detail and word spoken. “He told you to trust him?” Phyllis asks a few minutes later.

“Aye.”

“Why would he do that?”

I shrug. “Because he wanted me to trust him. I don’t know what you want me to say.” I slam my hands flat on my thighs in frustration.

“What are you thinking, Phyllis?’ Nyssa asks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t known the two of you long, but it seems out of character for him. I’ve seen the way you communicate. You two are bound to each other through more than trust. You operate as one, often.” She stands, stretching her legs. “Could he have gone with Serafina as a form of protection?”

“Protection of who?” I scoff.

“You,” she answers. “I felt that was obvious.”

“I can assure you, I don’t need protection. I’m stronger than Thorne.”

“As a vampire, yes. As a witch, no. With both of those combined, there’s no one stronger.” Phyllis’s words hit hard. She’s right. He’s stronger than me now.

“Who would he be protecting me from?”

“Serafina,” the three of them answer in unison.

“He went with her willingly.” My voice is no louder than a whisper. “He gave her Aaron’s grimoire.”

“Then we’ll just have to get it back,” Phyllis answers.

“Elsie, I think you were right. Serafina isn’t after the binding spell. She could’ve easily redone that spell in the centuries since.” Nyssa reminds me of my words from earlier.

“What are you talking about?” Phyllis asks.

“Elsie thinks Serafina wants a different spell from the grimoire, not the binding spell.” Cam fills in the blanks.

“Phyllis, do you know of any other spells Aaron would’ve held that Serafina would want?” I ask.

The elder witch’s face turns pale. “Nothing set in stone, just stories of his magic.”

“What aren’t you saying?” Nyssa asks, moving closer.

Phyllis sits back on the couch. “My ancestors used to talk about a spell that Aaron was working on to…to siphon death.”

“Siphon death?” Cam asks. “What does that mean?”

“Just like it sounds. Aaron tried for years to complete a spell that would siphon death, meaning…he could restore life to the dead.”

“Necromancy?” Nyssa asks. “That’s forbidden.”

“Yes, it’s forbidden when life is returned to those who are already dead, not to those who still walk the earth.” Phyllis turns toward me with her words. “Aaron was creating a spell to siphon death away from the undead, returning them to life.”

Her words hit me in the chest. “He was trying to return life to…to vampires?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “He never stopped searching for you.”

“A spell that would turn me human? Is that possible?” I look at Phyllis. “Are you sure it’s true?”

“No,” she reassures me. “It was a story passed down through generations. It could be nothing more than just that, a story.”

“Is that something you’d want?” Cam asks. “To be human again?”

“I…I don’t know. Why would Serafina want the spell?”

“That’s a question I don’t have an answer for.” Phyllis picks at a loose string on her pants.

I stand, walking toward the oversized fireplace. “Let’s just hypothetically say this is true, why would Thorne go with her?”

“Because a spell that can transmute death and return a vampire to human has the power to do the opposite,” Nyssa answers.

“Meaning Serafina would be able to turn herself into a vampire,” Cam adds.

“He’s going to stop her.” I look each of them in the eye.

Cam looks between the two witches. “What if she binds him before he can stop her? What if he’s already bound?”

“Thorne wouldn’t be the only one she’s able to bind.” Phyllis crosses her arms across her chest. “All of us would be bound too.”

“We can’t do this alone,” I announce.

“Look around, Elsie. We’re the strongest of our kind. There is no one else.” Phyllis’s words sound angry.

“There are many that are stronger than me. Four in particular.” I close my eyes, knowing the information I’m about to divulge could end with the death of an immortal child.

“Who?” Cam asks. “Amelia and Topher are the strongest in existence.”

“The children,” I answer. “There are four of them. Each holds magic in their blood and the strength of a vampire.”

“Children are no match for Serafina.” Nyssa scoffs.

“These are.”

“Are these the same children who are being held captive by the Goddess of the Sea?” Phyllis asks.

“Aye, one and the same.”

“Holy fuck,” Cam says, running a hand through his hair. “You want us to save four immortal children vampires from the Goddess of the Sea?”

“Technically, three. I know where the fourth one is. He’s safe…or was the last I knew.”

“How do you suggest we fight the goddess?” The look on Nyssa’s face is almost comedic.

“Can you make my power stronger?”

The witches share a look. “Yes, but Elsie, the power in your blood isn’t the same. Yes, you have magic, but not to the same extreme as Thorne. It will never be as strong as his.”

“I don’t care. Anything will help.”

“There is a spell,” Nyssa says, moving out of the room. She returns minutes later, carrying a book similar in age to Aaron’s. “This is my family grimoire.” She flips through the pages, landing on the one she wants. She sighs. “My ancestor created a spell to pull energy and strength from the world around us.”

“Do it,” I demand.

“There’s only one problem. The power, if it doesn’t kill you, can only be used one time. After that, it’s gone.”

“Do it,” I repeat.

Cam raises his hand. “What are we up against? How powerful is this goddess?”

“She’s a goddess,” I answer truthfully. “However, she owes me a favor.”

“A favor for what?” Phyllis asks.

“I killed her husband. That has to count for something.”

“Am I the only one who’s confused?” Cam asks, making me smile.

“No,” the witches answer in unison.

I look around the room, making eye contact with each person. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Hell, I don’t have anything to lose anyway. I’m in.” Phyllis moves to my side.

“Shit, me, too,” Cam says with a sigh, moving to my other side.

“Nyssa, I understand if you don’t join. You have a job here that needs you.”

The lycanthrope closes her eyes. “This job is kind of boring anyway. I’ll make arrangements to have the library shifted to its hiding spot.” She moves closer. “What’s the next step?”

“We’re going to New Orleans.”