Day of the Dead
by Nikki Landis
When my coven's ability to see into the future is compromised, I trust in an unlikely duo to reach Hell and confront my enemy. The depths of the Underworld reveal much more than I’m prepared for, exposing shocking secrets that lead me down a dark path of no return. The Salem Witch Trials began our fight for independence, but the true test of honor and skill is only beginning.
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“Your heart is beating so fast any supernatural for miles will hear it.” His tone attempted amusement and failed, an undercurrent of concern overriding everything else.
“It’s been a long night,” I reminded him, my head slightly dizzy. “I wish these symptoms would go away.”
‘We both know they’re not as long as your soul is held captive.’
The reminder only made me feel worse.
‘That’s not my intent.’ His head lowered as I felt his lips press to my forehead. He walked forward a few steps and reached for my hand again, his possessive hold on my fingers the same as it had been for the last few hours. “Why don’t we find a place to rest? I have a cottage nearby. It’s spelled against intruders and should provide adequate lodging until the rain stops.”
I walked beside him until we entered the edge of a tightly grouped section of trees. A house loomed ahead, seemingly empty, planted in the middle of nowhere.
“Come, Cassie. I want to show you something.” Damian led me up the wide steps onto a covered porch and then through the front door, pausing on the threshold.
My gaze swept the comfortable furnishings and old paintings as I followed my vampire, lifting a foot to step over the doorway and into his arms when I flashed forward, soaring ahead a few paces as Damian stepped aside and the door slammed shut. Wobbling, I caught myself before falling and stood upright. “Damian, open the door.”
“Open the damn door and let me leave, vampire.”
“I can’t do that.” His calm voice held an edge. He did this intentionally.
“You tricked me!” I yelled, stomping a foot before pacing the floor in indignation. “That’s not fair.”
“Yes,” he admitted openly, not issuing any apology.
Furious, I could hardly speak. “Let me out of here, Damian.”
Refusing to cooperate, I tried to seek the ancestors and use my magic. Nothing happened. Frustrated, I turned an accusatory glare on Damian. “This cottage is spelled.”
“It is,” he confirmed without remorse, “to keep any supernatural from using their abilities. It’s a neutral location. A safe space,” he emphasized. “No one can harm you.”
I didn’t care. “Damian,” I warned, my temper flaring, “let me out this minute. I’m not kidding.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
If looks could kill, I would have taken the bloodsucker out. Alright, he wouldn’t actually die, but I’d enjoy inflicting a tremendous amount of pain. “I'm going to kick your ass with magic later. That’s a guarantee.”
“A guarantee you will survive to seek your wrath upon me. I accept the consequences. What I do not accept is your death. I will seek vengeance in your name, my Cassandra. This is my final word on the subject.”
Damn vampire and his sense of honor. This was a mistake we would both end up regretting.