Cyrese Covelli - Witchlock 04

  Bloodcharm

  Witchlock Series – Book 4

  By Cyrese Covelli

  FROM THE ANNOYINGLY ANGUISHED MIND OF ASCHER

  Top fifteen reasons it sucks to be me:

  15. My ex-boyfriend is still lost in the fabric of time

  14. The son of the werewolf alpha isn't returning my calls

  13. My only magic tutor is a witchy little miss-perfect

  12. My best friend is in love with a vampire servant

  11. I set things on fire when I'm mad, or scared, or surprised

  10. The Council of Magical Beings thinks I'm dangerous

  9. So does my sister, and the witches... and the werewolves

  8. When the moon is full, I cause explosions

  7. I'm the new “it” girl for all things scary

  6. My mom has no memory of being a witch

  5. My grandma's memory returned just in time to tell me I should never have been born

  4. I am mentioned in prophecies-not the huggy-happy kind

  3. I owe the Warlock prince big-time... and he wants to collect

  2. Everyone and everything odd I come in contact with thinks I'm a freak of preternature

  1. Just when I think I'm getting the hang of things, something creepy crawly comes to visit

  CHAPTER ONE

  ET TU WOLFIE?

  * * * *

  The stench of burning hair tickled my nostrils. Glaring at the werewolf's half-shifted hand on the small on my wrist, I concentrated on breathing to keep the fire from engulfing him fully. It's not as though I'm any good at controlling my powers. Over two months had passed since my sister and I got bewitched and it just got harder and harder to hide the random scorch marks from my mom.

  “Would you just stop pouting for two seconds and listen to me?” The fire flared a brilliant blue, forcing Quillan to let go. I sucked my lower lip into my mouth to keep from smiling at the wary look on his face. Werewolves didn't scare too easily and Quillan was the son of Chicago's Alpha-a leader of the wolf pack. “You are taking this whole thing way out of context.”

  “What context? Your sister said that I was a dangerous freak and you agreed.” Granted, his twin Ruby had said this after I'd set their backyard on fire, but that wasn't the point.

  “I didn't agree with her, I just... ”

  “Agreed not to ‘have any interactions with the warlock until such time as she can control her magic.'” I quoted, lowering my voice to sound more like Quillan's father. Quillan's jaw set, the muscles in his neck straining.

  “I didn't want you to hear that.”

  “No kidding. I also heard the part where you agreed to keep tabs on me.” Enhanced senses were just one of many fun new tricks I'd discovered during the past full moon. Quillan's bite may not have resulted in sudden-furriness, but it sure packed a smack. “Is that why you've been spending time with me? To score points with your daddy? “ I bit down on the inside of my cheek, knowing by the sharp flash in his eyes and the three weeks we'd spent nearly inseparable since the full moon, that I'd hit a sore spot.

  “I'm my father's second, I need to do what's best for the pack.”

  “Well, you have. Who knows what kind of trouble I could have caused if you hadn't been there to keep your lips on me?” Victorious in my spur-of-the-moment sarcasm, I reached chilled hands into my pockets for the warmth provided and the stun-spells hidden there.

  “You know that's not why.” His voice was choked with roughness and I felt my cheeks color. We'd been seeing each other almost every night for three weeks and in that time I'd grown closer to him than I'd ever been to anyone outside of my family. With my only other experience with a boy, ending in the guy ditching me by fleeing through a mirror and into the fabric of time, I guess I had issues. “I didn't want to do it Ascher.”

  “Is that it?” I asked, voice weaker than I'd hoped from thoughts of Elliot churning through my head.

  “I said I'm sorry.” A step backwards and closer to my front door, I felt his hand close around my shoulder. “Get your hand off me, Quillan.” His grip tightened making me curl my fingers around the small cotton sachet containing Cyd's illegal potions. He let out a growl so guttural, I froze in place long enough to get me killed if it was another werewolf. His breath hot on my neck earned an involuntary shiver, followed by the low sound of his laugh.

  Angry at myself for more than my panic, I kicked backwards, earning a sharp yelp accompanied by some French language my French teacher had yet to include in her lesson plan. Wanting to get away from dog-boy was more important than how childish and scared I looked as my red ballet flats banged against the pavement. Getting the key in the lock proved harder than I'd remembered, and it gave Quillan the seconds he needed to recover. A startled whimper made me turn my head, wary of some ploy of Quillan's to get my attention.

  “Ascher?” Anise Curry stood, fingers spelling magic in intricate patterns through the air. Cyd, her younger cousin, less skilled in spell casting, but great at kicking butt had her right leg in the air, bent at an angle beyond me and poised to strike. Quillan growled again. “Are you okay, Asch?” Cyd asked, her eyes not leaving Quillan for a second.

  “He didn't hurt me.” I said. At least not physically I silently amended.

  “We need to talk to Ascher,” Anise said. Quillan snapped towards her, immobilized by her magic.

  “Ascher and I aren't done!” Cyd made a twirling motion with her index finger and Quillan began to lurch away from the sidewalk, his gait that of Frankenstein's monster. Cyd laughed, a sound like chandelier crystals swaying in the wind. “Asch-errr!”

  “Chalcedony Bergamot!” Anise grabbed her younger cousin by the wrist.

  “I suppose this is your idea of being diplomatic?” Cyd lifted her shoulders, letting them fall as she turned to wink at me. I smiled.

  “He was harassing Ascher.”

  “You made your point, Cyd. Now undo it before he walks into oncoming traffic or the lake.” Cyd made the face of a little kid caught playing with something they knew they shouldn't.

  “Didn't learn that part, yet.”

  “Of course, you didn't. Will you be okay for a skipping the weekly coven meeting, I nodded. I'd determined that spending two Tuesday nights in a row overhearing people talking about how dangerous I was and that my powers should be bound was enough for awhile.

  Sure of my compliance, Anise tugged at Cyd's arm, hurrying down the street after Quillan who was peppering the sunset with curses. Sighing, I unlocked the front door, cold fingers of dread choking off my inhalation. It was dark inside; no one had been home since this morning. I didn't expect my older sister Gemma to be here, she'd been taking nightly jogs through downtown Lake Parrish for hours everyday, saying it helped stop her from shape-shifting at random. Thinking she couldn't fool her cat with that excuse, I'd noticed the faint scent of cologne on her wool coat-familiar in some back of your mind sort of way.

  It was obvious she'd been spending more time with her boyfriend, Matt. Every morning, I caught her layering concealer on the bruises on her neck-hickeys. Whoever thought it was sexy to burst blood vessels on your neck in the first place? Whatever was going on, she definitely needed more sleep. I'd made one lame joke about her sun-lighting with the vamps while me were getting ready for school and she'd sprouted whiskers, blue toothpaste on the corner of her lips.

  Switching on the kitchen light, I looked for the familiar note on the kitty print stationary that mom used to let us know she'd be home late. It kept Gem from claiming that she'd never received the text saying to be home before nine. My arms felt heavy. Quillan and I were supposed to go his were pack meetings on Wednesday nights, but my overhearing his conversation with his dad last night had put th
e kibosh on that.

  I dropped my bags on the table, letting my mind go blank as I stared at the gold 70s style tile blanketing the kitchen floor. Slumping forward, I rested my forehead on the back of my arm, and noticed a pink smiley face sticker stuck to the area above my right elbow. Wanting to ask the little freak just what he was so happy about made me my lips quirk-as much of a smile as I'd managed since last night, but in only seconds before that all washed away.

  The sweet musky smell of Quillan's hoodie, wafted up to my nostrils making my eyes tear from the sting of salt. I took a deep breath, holding it until my vision grew cloudy to keep the hiccup of crying from leaving my chest. I could feel the pain there, coiled like a snake and too ingrained in me to do anything but bide its time until the next time it happened. What I needed was a distraction, something to kill the heaviness that lingered and jumpstart the rest of the night. I needed what any girl in my size 10 leather boots would--a hot bath and some target practice.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THAT ANNOYING GIRL IN VAMPIRE BOOKS

  The pale green wall of my bedroom looked very empty as I ran cold fingers through my damp hair. I hadn't replaced the Dracula poster I'd torn up after I'd actually met my first vampire and my Buffy DVDs remained unwatched. Supernatural stuff is supposed to be fun, mysterious, sexy-the stuff of dreams and desires, but being volleyed around from one supernatural throng to the other was taking its toll. It was never like this in the movies. Vamp meets girl, girl kisses vamp, eternal love ensues. I've always been the one wanting to thwack that annoying girl in the vampire books. You know the one, always weighing the pros and cons of dating a bloodsucker or werewolf. Why was she always dragging her feet? What more could she ask for? Eternal love, midnight kisses.

  Flipping my hair over, I bent forward, squeezing as much water out as I could before I went to the little woodland by my house to set strips of bark on fire. I'm not a pyro, or anything, it just helps me practice pulling my magic back inside of me without setting any more of the house on fire. Cocking my head to let water drip my from ear, I noticed a balled-up pair of bat print socks under my dresser and longed for the days when I thought those guys were ishy, squishy romantics.

  Of course, in books, the undead dude or wily werewolf were always charmingly romantic and completely dedicated to the girl of their dreams. They never wanted to use her for her magical abilities. They cared about every aspect of her; that she liked to watch old movies, that her favorite color was forest green. They gave anything and everything to know what filled her heart and what dreams tickled through her mind. They didn't fake-date her or disappear into time portals to get away. “You should have thought about that before getting all mush-eieieieie!”

  Cadence repeated the knock on my second-story window, and I choked on an incoming breath. Dark orange streaks on the glass let me know it was just moments after sunset. The tips of her fangs indenting her pale lip like two white daggers. Dirt streaked the pale gold of her hair and chalky skin, bits of leaves and twigs clinging to her jacket. Beautiful, sweet and eternally young, she looked to be about as ancient as I did, which is to say not very.

  A rush of fire hurled from my hand, snaking its way towards the windowsill where my cat Nicky was conducting his nightly neighborhood watch. My other hand flew towards him, fingers gripping to save him from the blast even as the heat swept my hair back from my shoulders. The fire twisted mid-air, reversing into my left palm and away from Nicky.

  “Ohmigod! Nix, I'm so sorry.” Ignoring the vampire's polite smile, I reached toward Nicky, who cowered from me, letting out a muted hiss at our visitor who was drumming her fingers against the glass. “You almost made me burn my cat!” Cadence just watched her eyes free of any emotion.

  “I've come at Master Radbourne's request to act as guard this night.”

  “Well, go guard then.”

  “This is why I have come to your home.” I knew this, but I was in the mood to mess with someone before they could be the cause of any more grief.

  “I'm going to do this. I have enough bodyguards and if they did any good I wouldn't be in this mess to begin with! “

  In less than two months, I'd found out I was a witch and a warlock, my mom was bewitched and my dad was the other. Before you could say fricking cool, I was controlling fire, my big sis Gemma was shapeshifting, and all the big scaries of Chicago's wanted to eat me up. I grabbed an old sweatshirt from the back of my desk chair, yanking it over my still-drying curls.

  “Master Radbourne is very certain of the danger your in, Ascher.” I snorted.

  “So am I. Hence the staying away from vampire ground zero.”

  “He thought it was important to let you know.”

  “And now you have. Thanks! ‘Kay, bye now.” Rushing over to my window, I pulled the cord to release the blinds before yanking the curtains closed with a whoosh. My cell phone began to ring, making my heart rattle like the tale of a snake. Reaching for the phone, I paused a moment to take a deep, shaky breath.

  “Hello?”

  “Please don't hang up!” It was strange, but hearing Daray's voice right then didn't make me want to dash my phone into a million tiny magenta pieces. Maybe I was just too tired to care.

  “What is it?” The sound of him releasing his breath was followed by a nervous throat clearing. The Warlock Prince felt guilty. This was not surprising considering he had fooled me into following him through a portal under the guise of rescuing my once-sweetie, Elliot. What I got instead was a big eyeful of my vampire servant boyfriend, sucking major face with some undead girl who had a very uncomfortable resemblance to yours truly. The only reason Elliot wasn't well-done was because the portal had taken us to the past. Five-hundred years, give or take a decade.

  “I have it on very good authority that someone came through the time portal with us.” I chewed the inside of my check, rolling my eyes.

  “Is it a dinosaur, because that would suck?” Daray let out a put-upon sign.

  “This is not a joke, Ascher. We know at least one powerful vampire came through the portal because we've had barrier alarms going off in the city.” Ignoring the fact that I had no clue what he was talking about, I started for the stairs, to check the fridge stock for making dinner.

  “Well, I doubt I'll notice one more fanged fiend.”

  “No, this is... ”

  “And anyways, Savian's crush on Gemma should keep us safe enough.” At least something useful came from the Master vampire of Chicago pining away for my big sis.

  “Just listen!” Daray bit off the words, like he'd been holding them back for a while.

  “Real nice.” I pressed end, holding down the key to set it on vibrate. A mewling protest sounded from my sister's cat. “Hey Angel.” The phone buzzed violently making the gray tabby turn tail and run. Frowning, I flipped my phone open, cradling it between my shoulder and ear.

  “This better not be who I think it is.”

  “Asch... Asch... Ascher, it's Savannah.” The snakeshifting witch sounded out-of-breath. Her voice was smaller than usual and without the seductive cockiness that usually coated her words.

  “Lord Blackthorne is coming... he's here!”

  “Get out of there!” I cried, memories of the vampire's cold, balmy hands on my arms.

  “He's coming to... ” static claimed the last of her words.

  “Do you want me to call Ian? What should... ”

  “Hello, my lovely.” Slowly, I craned my neck towards the speaker, swallowing the scream at the back of my throat. Lord Linsey Blackthorne's arms curled around me tightly, forcing me to drop the phone. Gripping my arm to turn me, he gazed at me, lips parting and the heat of his breath tickling my cheeks.

  He was a born vampire, and breathed and ate like a human. One of many differences was, drinking blood made him very powerful and strong. He was the leader of the clan of the most ruthless and terrifying vampire covens the world had ever known- The Blackthornes. He was ancient, he was deadly and he was standing here, in my livin
g room, pressing me into his chest and smelling my neck with a look of primal hunger in his eyes.

  “What... do you want?” He pressed me closer, his fingernails softly scraping the top of my head. I let out a squeak. He leaned closer, brushing lips over my cheek.

  Interlude

  Pennsylvania, the United States of America September, 1761.

  Dear Diary,

  Mother came home from father's shop late today. I spent the day with Oliver and the little ones and was glad when they finally went to sleep. The house was cold and I couldn't find Nora or Henry so I decided to gather some scraps for firewood.

  When I'd gathered all I could, I noticed a young man watching me from the shadows. Emboldened, by some force I could not name, I asked him what business he had on my father's property. He said he used to own this land and that he'd come to pay a visit to the family who'd bought it. He asked if he could speak to the man of the house and I said that father was quite busy in the parlor, polishing his collection of weapons. I do not know why I made up such a lie, just that this man gave me a chill. There was something not right in his eyes and a coldness about him that made me feel very small and vulnerable. I told him that, perhaps, if he left his name, I could tell father of his visit and they could arrange a meeting

  He said his name was Linsey and that I needn't worry myself with giving a message with father because he would return. His words further froze my blood and I began to adjust my velvet cape to better block the cold which was a difficult task with an armload of wood. I unclasped the gold pin from the neck of the cape, but when my eyes returned to the spot where Linsey was standing just a moment before, he was gone

  This startled me so much that I stabbed myself twice on the throat with my pin. I assume this is what transpired as I have no memory of latter events

  All I recall is that I awoke some time later, in bed and that mother told me, she'd found me asleep in the snow. I suppose I fainted from the sight of blood as my stomach has never been very strong in its constitution.