The Witch of the Prophecy Page 9

  Selene tapped the bricks before turning away from him. Rori took four steps to the end of the alley only to see that the sexy blond witch with all the secrets had mingled into the crowd.

  Rori stood on the periphery of the New Orleans crowd with a sated hunger and a mind full of questions. The Ember Witches weren’t truthful. He wasn’t the only one with the beating heart. He wasn’t the only one with a witch. The prophecy might not be about him after all.

  His eyes scanned every human, desperate to find her. She was gone.

  Chapter 14

  The distant dripping sound exacerbated the heavy silence of the room. Even with Divina’s mortal hearing, it sounded as if it thundered in the room. Not one of the Ember Witches spoke after Divina’s demand of them.

  Divina shifted on her feet. Had she made the wrong decision in confronting them? The longer they took to respond, the tighter her muscles became. Her teeth clenched in irritation.

  They interfered with her life, her livelihood; the least they could do was be direct. Divina didn’t have to stand there in a staring contest with a group of witches. With her jaw set, Divina stepped away from the chair to leave.

  The scrape of a chair on the cement floor drew Divina’s attention back to the center of the table, to the head witches of the Ember Witch Coven. Finally, Florence stood.

  “Please.” She gestured toward the chair beside Divina. “Sit. We have so much to share with you.”

  Divina looked at the chair with cynicism. A mere wooden chair, with a worn red velvet seat, seemed benign. She stretched a finger over the armrest. Nothing radiated from it. There were no enchantments in the chair that Divina could to feel. However, she remained reluctant to sit in it. Distrust flittered through the air.

  With a glance around the room to the many witches seated at the table, Divina found no reassurance from them. When she glanced behind her to the opening in the table, she sucked in a deep breath.

  He had left her.

  Her hand fell from the chair. She backed away from it. She walked toward the end of the horseshoe.

  “Please, don’t leave.” The voice of one of the witches, one Divina hadn’t been introduced to, seemed distant when it spoke.

  Divina stopped at the opening of the table. She looked over her shoulder at the center witch, Esmine.

  “Where did Rori go?” she asked.

  A small voice within Divina whispered that the witches knew where he was. Darting her eyes around she pondered the cause of his departure. The witches could have sent him away; they could have wanted to get her alone for some reason. Distrust in the witches ticked higher than before, causing the tension in her body to increase.

  Something about the lack of Rori’s presence caused Divina’s stomach to churn with unease. In a matter of twenty-four hours, he had gone from being her ex-boyfriend, whom she never wished to see again, to her security blanket. She felt vulnerable, exposed, and unsure of the women surrounding her.

  Esmine sat forward in her chair. She clasped her hands before her on the table and looked past Divina to the spot where Rori had once stood. She frowned. Perhaps she hadn’t realized he had left either.

  A throat cleared. It drew Divina’s attention. It drew all the witches’ attention. A young, red-headed witch, at the last seat of the table, stood.

  “He was famished. I suggested he go feed,” she said.

  She held her chin high and used a bold voice. She announced this to the group with an air of superiority.

  Divina turned to Esmine as if to get confirmation of the truth in the young witch’s words.

  With tight lips and narrowed eyes, Esmine looked rather threatening. Her cold expression triggered a red alert within Divina. Something wasn’t right with this coven. Something wasn’t right with all of this.

  “No harm will come to you, Divina,” Esmine said. “Please, have a seat.”

  The lack of politeness in Esmine’s voice indicated a lack of hospitality in the gesture. The offer of a seat wasn’t a suggestion. Esmine had ordered Divina to sit, and the expectation was clear that Divina would obey.

  Divina surveyed the room one more time before she took the offered seat. The most powerful witches in her country surrounded Divina. If they had wanted to do anything to her, they would have done it by now.

  “The Ember Witches never invite one of their own to the table,” Esmine explained. “An Ember Witch finds her way to the table.”

  “You don’t count sending Rori to me multiple times inviting me to the table?” Divina said in defiance

  Divina sat back, folded her arms, and crossed her legs. Just because the witches intimidated her, it didn’t mean she had to show it.

  “Roricus is following his path, which led him to you,” Jessa replied with a flat expression. Her vacant eyes stared ahead as if the woman had no emotion to her at all.

  “We didn’t send him to you. We merely initiated his journey,” she added.

  “I’m the beginning of his journey?” Divina repeated skeptically.

  “Yes,” Jessa responded quickly.

  “What does that even mean?” Divina shifted her gaze, and thus her question, to any witch within her eye line. “What journey? To where?”

  Florence answered when it seemed no one else would step up to the plate. “Fate is a funny thing.” Florence glanced at Esmine when she paused. Esmine nodded as if permitting Florence to proceed. Licking her lips, Florence continued, “It’s not always what it appears to be, and it’s not that seers get things wrong so much as the visions aren’t interpreted the right way.”

  Divina lifted a brow. She had a hard time following, but she figured if she kept silent, they’d keep talking. She’d eventually figure it out.

  “You’re the witch meant to quicken Roricus’ heart once more,” Florence responded hopefully.

  “But, you aren’t meant to remain his mate throughout his life, as is a common belief,” Esmine chimed in informatively.

  Divina furrowed her brow. “Quicken his heart?”

  “Once Roricus drank from you, his heart resumed its rhythm,” Jessa explained. “It’s a phenomenon that only occurs when a vampire meets his mate. It’s extremely rare. It’s required for a vampire seat on the council.”

  Falling back, as if slapped in the face, Divina slumped in her chair. She brought a dead heart to life, Rori’s dead heart. That made her Rori’s… mate? She couldn’t wrap her brain around what all that meant. If it meant anything at all, it was moot. Rori had left her and told her she needed to find a wolf all because of some stupid prophecy and the vampire council thing. Everything boiled down to vampire politics.

  Divina shook her head. She looked at the floor and sucked her lips in so that she could bite down on them. Trying to process what they had said, she sighed.

  “So this is all about the council?” she asked in resignation.

  “No,” Esmine answered. “It’s much deeper than that. The prophecy begins with the vampire whose heart beats for the witch.” She smiled. “You gave that to Roricus. He is the chosen vampire for the council.”

  “So I’m just some tool for vampire politics? For the council?” Divina probed.

  Her eye twitched as the picture became clear to her. She dug her nails into the arms of the chair. Manipulation and deception were the trademarks of vampires. No other species mattered, unless they could benefit the vampire agenda. Divina’s jaw tightened as the thoughts paraded through her mind.

  “No,” Florence’s empathetic response radiated from her. “When you gave Roricus back the beat of his heart, you initiated your own future.” The smile on her face lit up the room. She seemed delighted to inform Divina of this hopeful news. “You get to find the one who belongs to you. You will find the wolf your heart chose. You will find your place at the table,” Florence said.

  A loud groan came from behind Divina. Florence’s face fell. It twisted into a mask of annoyance.

  Divina stood and turned to see who made the sound.

  The re
dhead was on her feet. “She is one of our own. We need to be honest with her,” she said.

  “Silence!” Esmine bellowed. “This is not your place, Ines.”

  “She is a sister,” Ines, implored. “We shouldn’t be manipulating our own.”

  “That is not your place to say. The coven agreed.” Esmine’s firm tone matched the tightness in her face.

  “I won’t sit idly by while you deceive this woman.” Ines came around the table and entered the center. She turned her attention toward Divina.

  Divina regarded her with wariness. Ines reached for Divina’s hands, but Divina pulled away. She didn’t trust the woman. She had convinced Rori to abandon Divina and leave her unprotected with the witches.

  “What they aren’t telling you is that you and Roricus are not the only ones.” She spoke quickly as the murmurs around them grew loud. “The prophecy is vague. The visions aren’t clear.”

  Out of the corner of Divina’s eye, she caught movement. Esmine’s wrist flicked, and her lips moved as she spoke a silent incantation. The chair Divina had once sat upon shook before it lifted; floating as if hung on strings.

  With a gasp, Divina stepped back in shock. Ines caught her attention and mirrored Divina’s expression.

  “The only constant is the wolf,” Ines shouted. She turned toward Esmine. “You are tampering with fate! You can’t do that!” She pointed an accusatory finger toward Esmine.

  “Silence!” Esmine boomed in a thunderous tone that echoed off the walls of the subbasement.

  Divina shook, and she stepped back.

  Ines quieted, yet kept narrowed eyes on the leader of the Ember Witches.

  Esmine stood with fire in her eyes, glaring daggers at Ines.

  A part of Divina wanted to protect her from the wrath of the head witch. However, Divina felt frozen in place by fear. She couldn’t lift her feet, as much as she wanted to at that moment.

  “You speak out against your sisters. You speak against your coven,” Esmine declared as she stepped up onto her chair. “You have broken your oath.” She rose to stand on the table. “There will be consequences, Ines.” The malice in Esmine’s expression matched her voice.

  Divina had heard and seen enough. With one last sympathetic look toward Ines, who was focused on Esmine glowering at her from atop the table, Divina turned and ran.

  She didn’t look back. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find Rori.

  No one followed her. No one chased her. Yet, she continued to run. She pumped her legs with all her strength. The sound of her sneakers thudding on the marble floor thundered in her ears as she traveled through the dark museum.

  Divina looked back one final time before she slowed down. She’d made it to the lobby. The exit was in sight. Escape was imminent, and no one chased her.

  Maintaining a slight jog, Divina wasn’t prepared for the convent’s front door to swing open. She gasped. Without thinking, her arm cocked back. Her fingers curled into a fist.

  Whoever was beyond that door stood between her and escape. Fight or flight took hold, and apparently, Divina chose fight.

  The thud and slight squish of a fist hitting a face weren’t as satisfying or dramatic as they made it sound on TV. The pain that radiated up Divina’s wrist into her arm was unexpected. She shook her hand to alleviate the sting.

  “Owww!” Divina’s victim cried out.

  Her eyes adjusted to the darkness until she could see the man in the shadows.

  “Rori!” she gasped in relief.

  Divina shot toward the man holding his cheek. She took his free hand and tried to yank him out of the convent.

  “We have to go,” she said in a panic.

  “Go?” Rori repeated, allowing her to drag him away. “Where?”

  “I don’t know, not here.” Divina marched through the hedged maze still glancing over her shoulder, expecting to see someone chase her.

  Rori’s confused expression and reddened cheek filled Divina’s vision. He too looked back, as though the answers were behind them. No one was there; nothing was there.

  Divina shoved Rori into the cab of her tuck. She ran around to the driver’s side trying to think of where to go. The witches would look for her vardo. It wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.

  Jumping into the cab, she jammed the key into the ignition. With the purr of the engine, she threw it into gear and barreled down the road. She had no clear destination but needed to get away from the witches and clear her mind.

  Rori’s cheek throbbed. She punched him. He went to check on her, to bring her back to her vardo, to make sure she was safe, and she fucking punched him in the face.

  The sharp turn she took flung him against the side of the truck. She also drove like a mad woman.

  “What’s going on?” he asked clinging to the handle above the door for dear life.

  He looked back. Nothing chased them. What had gotten into her?

  “We can’t trust them,” Divina said.

  Her frenzied eyes darted back and forth over the dark, and thankfully empty, road.

  Rori studied her. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her spooked. What had happened in there?

  “The Ember Witches?” he asked regarding the “them” she had mentioned. “They’re to be your coven. It may not seem like it now, but they’re the only ones we can trust.”

  She shook her head.

  “No,” she countered, “they’re manipulating you. They want to manipulate me.”

  Of course, they were, Rori thought. That’s what the Ember Witches did. He wouldn’t verbalize those thoughts. She didn’t seem to be in a place where she’d understand them. Divina needed to use them to grow into her power as much as they needed to use her.

  As she took another hard turn, Rori reached for the dashboard. The first hints of sunrays felt like lasers pointed directly at him. Clenching his teeth as his exposed skin turned to bubbled blisters he tried to cover his flesh as best he could, tugging down his rolled up sleeves.

  “It’s dawn,” he hissed.

  Rori already felt the deep coma-like vampiric sleep creeping into his senses.

  “I just need time to think. I just need—” Divina cut herself off as she slammed on the breaks for a stop light.

  Rori jerked forward, almost hitting his forehead into the windshield.

  “Jesus!” Rori hissed before taking a deep breath. “There’s a vampire-run hotel three blocks away.”

  Rori pointed in a direction, but his arm wobbled as blisters oozed under his shirt, forming wet spots. He hoped it was the direction of the hotel. He blinked a few times trying to force his eyes open, but his vision blurred.

  He switched tactics, not trusting his abilities with the sun cresting. Trying to focus on his phone, Rori punched in the address. It took about four tries before he got it right. When the vampire sleep wanted to take over, there was little he could do to fight it. Even on witch blood, his body was about to shut down for the day.

  Divina glanced at him, and concern lines wrinkled her face. She snatched the phone.

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  Rori drifted in and out of awareness as they drove. Pain waking him repeatedly as he curled himself into a ball trying to protect himself. Divina had to hold him up while they checked in. Thankfully, the vampire night-shift was still on. They understood what Rori needed. The last thing Rori remembered was the flop of his head onto a pillow. He was out.

  Chapter 15

  The unanswered voicemail left for Bruce weighed heavy on Aric’s mind. He wanted to discuss the discord between his wolf and his human before he went out. In his fifty-four years, a blip in the extended lifespan of a shifter, he had never been at such odds with his inner beast. He wanted to understand how one half of him could be so against something while the other half was so eager.

  However, for the sake of research—or so Aric told himself—he went to the address Selene had texted to him. He needed more data to present a clearer picture to Bruce. He needed to understand
his wolf’s response to Selene fully. The only way to do that was to see her again.

  Aric arrived early; the tavern bustled with business. The blond had selected a local bar not frequented by many tourists. Street signs adorned the walls alongside taxidermy animals. The dark-stained oak bar was older than Aric. The whole place had a relaxed vibe, despite its popularity with locals. Possibly due to the cheap drink specials, the access to locally brewed beers, and the fact that it lacked the over-the-top fanfare typical of the other bars in the area.

  He found a seat at the bar and ordered a local craft beer. No whiskey. He figured he could nurse one beer through the night and be social. He didn’t want a repeat of the Jameson evening. A clear mind when conducting research was a must.

  It still perplexed him. Aric had drunk Jameson for much of his adult life. He couldn’t remember the last time he blacked out because of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he forgot his limit. It didn’t fit. The explanation of the previous night didn’t sit right with him. It didn’t make sense. Besides, who went on a date without at least one drink anyway? Wait. Was it a date? Had he agreed to meet up with the female as a date? Hmm. He hadn’t thought of it. He snorted at his backward nature. The woman was in his trailer, naked in his bed with his cock balls deep in her before he even bought her dinner. It wasn’t how Aric typically did things. He wasn’t sure if he was the luckiest wolf on the planet or if something was wrong. His instincts told him something was fishy. Not to mention his wolf’s reaction. It wasn’t the socially acceptable order of things. Perhaps that’s what got his wolf all twisted. His wolf preferred routine as a creature of habit. Aric was as much human as he was wolf after all.

  He sipped the beer watching the door. Maybe he put too much stock in his wolf and needed to live a little, be human.

  At exactly the time she said, Selene entered the bar. The scent of jasmine tickled his nose over the smell of alcohol and bad cologne. Aric’s back straightened as he watched her scan the patrons with disinterest.