The Witch's Chalice Page 2

  Finally, my right fist broke through the sod that had been laid over my grave. The rest of my body followed. I flew out and fell to my knees, gasping for air that I didn't really need.

  It was nighttime. The cemetery was empty except for the three people who knew my secret. On the tombstone across from my grandmother's sat Perry and Mr. Black. Traian paced back and forth to the right of the grave.

  He rushed to me, pulling my muddied body to his. “Thank the gods. I almost thought you weren’t going to rise.”

  “I'm okay,” I panted. “I'm okay. Really. But oh my God, I'm so thirsty.”

  Suddenly, the only heartbeat that pounded in the graveyard came to my awareness.

  My eyes shot over to Mr. Black. I could see the vein pulsing in his neck, and the fire in my throat burned even hotter.

  Traian gripped my head and turned me to face him. “You know better. I have food for you, don't worry.”

  Perry tossed me a bag of blood, which I caught one-handed without ever tracking it with my eyes, as if I were some star baseball player. I'd never played a sport in my life, for obvious reasons.

  In two seconds, I had drained the last drop of blood. This would do for now. At least I didn't feel the urge to rip Mr. Black open for a snack.

  God, how am I going to survive in a world of humans with this kind of craziness?

  I turned to Perry. “I thought I wasn’t going to see you until Romania, Mr. Perry?”

  A small dimple formed on his right cheek as he smirked. “Well, my expertise was needed here, just in case things didn’t go according to legend.”

  I cocked my head at Traian.

  He shrugged. “He has magic that could have helped if you had not risen.”

  I could feel the frustration and anger boiling under his cool façade.

  “Also, you should call me Padrick,” The elf added. “Perry is only my human name, and I will no longer be needing it.”

  “Sorry, it will take a while before I get used to that.” I scanned the cemetery.

  A small crater still indented the ground about a hundred feet away. Yellow caution tape encircled the perimeter. The area looked nothing like the post-apocalyptic scene from the previous night.

  “Okay, folks, now that this part is done, we need to continue with the rest of the plan.” Mr. Black jumped off the tombstone and came over. In his hand, he had some papers and a little package.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “These are your new papers. Basically, your identification. The top one is your death certificate. The next one is a list of your account numbers for banks and other assets. And the final one is basically your certificate of strigoi.”

  “You serious?” I couldn't believe my ears. They have identification for magical creatures?

  “Yes, we are all labeled. Just like silly humans,” Padrick spoke. “Thanks to the benevolent Octavian.”

  Traian muttered a curse. I wanted to ask who Octavian was. Could he be the evil mastermind behind the graveyard attack?

  “This box,” Mr. Black continued, “is from your grandmother. The first of many packages you will be receiving in the next few years. As she planned.”

  “Grandma must've thought of everything.” I took the package in my hand. “How did she know all this?”

  “Your grandmother was a witch. A human witch, but a witch nonetheless,” Padrick chimed in.

  Traian remained quiet through this whole ordeal, except for the occasional mumbling of expletives under his breath.

  “Well, you ought to get to the airport soon. The plane is waiting.” Mr. Black strode back to the gravestone he’d been sitting on before and picked up his briefcase.

  Suddenly, a bright pair of lights illuminated the graveyard, then came the sound like a tractor starting.

  I glanced over my shoulder. A backhoe driven by a man moved toward us.

  “What the hell is that?”

  Traian answered, “He's going to exhume your casket and the soil around. You must live in your coffin for the next seven years and continue to connect with the soil you were buried in. If you survive that, then you can become like me: a living strigoi, able to walk in the daylight.”

  No one had mentioned this before. My goodness, I was learning new things every damn second.

  “Sleep in my casket? Like Dracula did in the movies?”

  “Sadly, that is the one thing Hollywood did get right,” Traian responded.

  A fancy black limousine pulled up to the curb.

  Before I got in, I turned back to Grandmother Grace’s gravestone. “Grandma. You won’t believe what has happened. I have to go, but I’ll be back.” Then I glanced at my own tombstone.

  Everly Grace Greene

  October 31, 1998- March 21, 2018

  That’s all it said. No “Loving daughter,” or “Gone too soon,” or any kind of sentimental nonsense.

  I sighed.

  Traian came to my side and took my dirty hand in his. He led me away from my grave to the waiting car. We got in and headed to the airport. Padrick stayed behind to supervise the retrieval of my casket and the earth around it.

  At the airport, a private jet waited for us. Traian rushed me inside and pushed me into a small bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind him, his lips were on mine.

  I gasped. This was the first time he’d kissed me since I’d awakened in the morgue the night before. His lips moving against my mouth sent my whole body into shudders. A plethora of emotions battled inside me, confusing my mind.

  And then I started to crackle. Little sparks of electricity arced across my skin.

  Shit, not this again.

  Traian pulled away, looking at me with eyes open. “You still have the gift.”

  “This isn't a gift. It's a curse.”

  “No, it is a gift. This is why I am taking you to Romania. I know people who can help you, teach you how to channel this energy.”

  I touched my grandmother's cross, and the buzzing subsided, the little sparks of electricity disappeared, and I felt normal again. As normal as one can after they've died, woken up in a morgue, gone to their own funeral, gotten buried, and then emerged from the ground like a zombie in a horror flick.

  “Here are some clothes for you. You can change and wash up.” He pointed to the bag hanging on the back of the door. “We have about twenty minutes before your casket and earth arrive. Please make yourself comfortable.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “I will be waiting for you in the lounge.”

  I missed his presence the moment he left and shut the door. I sat down on the toilet lid and cradled my head in my hands. Tears tickled the floodgates, but I held them back and ignored the aching I felt in my soul.

  Do I have a soul anymore?

  It didn’t matter right then. All I wanted was to curl up on my bed, wrap the poofy comforter around my body, and snuggle with Storm.

  Storm!

  Who would take care of my fur baby?

  Chapter 3

  I gasped at my image in the mirror. The lifelong scars that had decorated my torso appeared like angry red welts against my pale skin. Apparently, the myth about blemishes disappearing once you became a vampire was just that: a myth.

  I emerged from the bathroom on the plane clad in black slacks, a navy sweater tunic, and the most comfortable pair of ankle leather boots my feet had ever worn. I slid into an open seat by the window and tried not to appear as gloomy as I felt inside.

  Traian stood in the doorway of the cockpit, talking to the pilots, and then I heard some beeping. I turned my attention outside, to the delivery approaching the plane.

  “What's in there?” I asked as Traian came over to sit across from me.

  He glanced out the window. “That would be your casket and the earth from around it.”

  “Why do we need the dirt from around my casket?”

  “Because that's how it works, Everly. I didn’t make these rules. But if you do not have the earth you were buried in ar
ound you, your body will start decomposing very quickly. I have seen it.”

  I thought about it for a minute. Being undead kept getting more complicated with each passing minute. It would take a while to understand this whole magic thing, but after what I had seen in the graveyard and what had happened so far, I'd be stupid not to believe it. Everything must be questioned, though. I needed to know why these certain traditions were in place. What did they mean? And had it really been necessary for me to crawl out of the ground?

  Mr. Black climbed onboard the plane, and the flight attendant closed the door and sealed us in. We sat down, and she served Mr. Black a glass of champagne and gave a glass of wine to Traian. Lastly, she offered me a glass of blood.

  Within thirty minutes, we were in the air, soaring high above Seattle. I peered out the window, looking at the twinkling lights below. I could see the Space Needle and all the tall skyscrapers surrounding my old apartment building. And then I caught sight of the brick structure nestled a block from the train station. This was the first time I'd ever flown. It was also the first time I'd ever left Seattle. A rush of excitement nearly had me jumping out of my chair.

  I turned to Traian. “I can’t believe I'm going to Europe!” My sudden change in mood had me reeling.

  Traian calmly looked up from his glass to meet my eyes. “We're finally going home.”

  Home? A sudden sadness overtook me crushing the excitement. Seattle is my home. Why can’t I stay in Seattle?

  I already knew the answer to that, though. Something to do with my magic getting out of control and the fact that people would recognize me. That would make quite the news story. My enthusiasm dwindled, but I kept my smile plastered on. I tried not to think of Mindy or my mom—that life was over. The sooner I moved on, the better it would be for everyone.

  But, damn, this roller coaster of emotions was too much.

  I held up my glass of blood. “To going home. My new home.”

  Traian tipped his head and raised his glass halfway before returning his attention past the window.

  Conversation didn’t seem likely to occur, so I relaxed back in my chair and considered all the things that had happened since Wednesday night. All my thoughts boiled down to one—my sister.

  Stella had said she hated me. That left a very bitter taste in my mouth. It wasn’t something I could drink away with a glass of blood or push aside with thoughts of something else. No, her anger really bothered me, but there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't explain to her what had happened. Communication with people I loved wasn’t an option. I glanced over at Traian. He was my family now. He was all I had. Padrick would be there, too. At least I’d have two friendly faces.

  As we reached cruising altitude, I pulled the package that Mr. Black had given me onto my lap. I peeked over my shoulder at him.

  He sat in the far corner of the plane, going through files and tapping away on his laptop. Ever the lawyer. Working for the undead and magical must keep him quite busy.

  I turned my attention to the brown package in my hands. Within a split second, I’d sliced the paper tape and opened the lid. Inside was a hunter green journal that featured the same cross symbol that was on the back of the cross pendant I wore and the old journal that had mysteriously appeared a week ago.

  At the thought of the apartment, my mind again went to Storm. Padrick had said he would take care of her, and I trusted him. I wondered if taking care of her meant finding her a new home—she didn't really like him. That wasn’t my problem, though. I hoped she gave him hell.

  When I opened the journal, a piece of paper fell out. I picked up the folded note. It was written by my grandmother.

  Dear Everly,

  If you are reading this, you have already died and returned as an immortal. I am so proud of you for doing what you needed to do to protect those you love. I'm also sorry that I led you in the way of harm by standing in the road. That was not my intention. There was no other way to turn you immortal in a manner plausible enough to make humans think you had died.

  I know they're going to believe that you committed suicide and that you were disturbed. Child, let them think what they want to think. It will protect you in the future. Also know that I am very well aware of your sister’s anger. It's going to take her a while before she comes around. Just give her time and try not to contact her. It will only cause more anger.

  Now, chances are you're reading this on an airplane headed to Romania. My darling, please know that Romania is a dangerous country. There is evil lurking deep in those mountains and valleys. But the evil there is nothing compared to the malice that will come from the South. He's going to come for you, Everly. Prepare yourself. Learn your magic. Learn from the crone. Listen to Padrick.

  But most of all, open your heart to Traian and let him love you. You need his love in order to survive what is to come. I wish I could say that everything will end well, but I can’t. Your hardest time is yet to come. I wish I could tell you more, but that would completely alter what is to happen. I love you, my child. Read my journals and learn.

  Love,

  “Grandma” Grace

  I wasn’t sure what to make of this note. She spoke so cryptically. I glanced up at Traian. He was reading through some papers that Mr. Black had handed him. He must have felt my attention, because he looked up.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “No.”

  And then the paper I was holding caught on fire.

  Mr. Black was prepared with a towel to snuff out the flames. I dropped the journal to the floor. It fell open, but there were no words on the page.

  “Did she tell you that was going to happen, too?” I asked, staring at the book at my feet.

  Mr. Black nodded.

  Great.

  I had hoped to reread the note so I could make some sense of what she had said. Now I was hesitant to handle Grandma’s journal, for fear I’d accidentally catch it on fire too. Traian saw my distress and picked the journal up himself.

  “I’ll put it with your things.”

  Later in the flight, the attendant brought some food for Traian and Mr. Black. Oh, how the melted butter on the bread called out to me. I reached across the table and took a piece of toast, my favorite comfort food, and took a bite. Instantly, I retched. Then all the contents of my stomach came out, blood and pieces of undigested toast, right onto the floor and the attendant’s perfectly polished pumps.

  “Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry,” I kept repeating.

  “It's all right, we have carpet cleaner.” She smiled sympathetically at me and handed me a towel to clean myself up with.

  I turned to Traian. “Why can't I eat?”

  He gave me a steely look. “Because you are not ready to eat.” He dropped his gaze back to the paper he was reading.

  “You eat.”

  “Yes, I do, but it's because I'm a living strigoi. I've done the required time in my casket. I have paid my penance, and now I can walk among the living,” he explained without looking up.

  His coolness rubbed me the wrong way, but I tempered my anger and thought about my casket for a moment.

  “I have to sleep in my coffin every night?” Can we both fit in there? Ugh, would he even want too?

  Traian nodded. “It's the way it is. That's why I chose a comfortable one. You cannot change your casket until you've completed the required seven years.”

  He never mentioned joining me. Nor did I ask.

  Ugh, who wants to sleep in a coffin for seven years? Alone?

  Chapter 4

  We flew through the night and part of the next day, only stopping once somewhere in Virginia to fuel up before heading across the ocean. When I became sleepy, Traian took me down into the cargo bay, where the big steel box I’d seen being loaded in Seattle sat. He pressed a code into a keypad, and the top slid open. I peered over the side. Nestled in the dirt inside lay my coffin. But the lid looked new.

  “What happened to the hole I created?”
<
br />   “We had the lid replaced.” Traian motioned to a set of stairs that popped out of the side of the box. “Climb in and rest. Don’t fight the sleep.”

  I didn’t have a choice. My eyelids kept getting heavier.

  “I thought vampires didn’t sleep.”

  “Another myth.” Traian opened the coffin. “As a new strigoi, you will need to sleep during daylight hours and the dark moon period.”

  I remembered the images of Dracula crawling out of his casket in an old black and white film. Apparently, that Hollywood myth was also true.

  The heaviness of my body convinced me to climb the steps and hop into the open coffin. As soon as I laid down, my eyes shut, and I was out.

  This was my first sleep as an undead. No dreams, though—just pure, deep blackness. When I opened my eyes again, we had landed in Romania, right after sundown.

  This was where Mr. Black departed ways with us.

  “Good luck, Everly.” He shook my hand. “May our paths cross again.”

  Traian shook hands with him too, and then Mr. Black got into a dark sedan. After he was gone, a sleek, black limousine picked us up and took us out of the city. We drove until daybreak. The limousine’s dark, tinted windows kept the sun’s rays out. As a new vampire, or strigoi, I could not be exposed to sunlight. That myth was also true, sort of.

  With the rising sun, drowsiness set in. I’d drift in and out, then come to and peer out the windows.

  We were deep in the mountains now. Tall, snowy crags jetted up into the clouds above like the skyscrapers I had grown up with in Seattle. The driver pulled off the main highway onto a snow plowed road that dead-ended into the side of a mountain. The limousine stopped.

  Traian gave me a heavy cloak to cover my body and head, and long black gloves.

  “To protect you from the sun's rays,” he told me.

  I glanced up at the skies. The layer of gray seemed thick enough to keep the sun out.

  “The clouds will shift, and we’re not taking any chances.” Traian answered my unspoken question.