The Witch's Spark Page 3

  “Study at Insomnia Café on Saturday?” Jen whispered as I gathered my things.

  “Yes, but I work until two. Meet at three?”

  “Perfect. Text me if anything changes.” She smiled and focused back on the slides.

  “Ditto.”

  I zipped the backpack.

  “Ms. Greene.”

  I looked up only to meet Mr. Perry’s glare. He wiggled his finger, beckoning me to come to his desk.

  “Good luck,” Jen said.

  Great. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and wove between the lab tables to the front of the room. “Yes?”

  “Your quiz results from last night.” He slid a sheet in front me—the piece of paper I’d written my answers on—and pushed the thin-framed glasses up the bridge of his perfect nose.

  “Thanks.” I took it and tried to ignore the sixty-five percent written at the top in red.

  “Study,” Mr. Perry warned.

  I could feel people staring. Uncomfortable with the attention, I rushed out of the lab from the side door next to the professor’s desk. The tears came the moment I’d stepped into the hall.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I needed to pass my exams. If I failed, I would have to retake this class. My nerves couldn’t take another quarter with Mr. Perry.

  My tears graduated into body-jerking sobs after I exited the building. Thankfully, no one was around to witness the waterworks.

  Deflated, I walked down to the Link station and took the series of escalators down to the platform underground. Ten minutes later, I stepped onto the train and found a seat, pulling my hood over my eyes. No one needed to see my distress. Tears made people uncomfortable, and I didn’t need any more attention.

  Blurry-eyed, I got off five stops later and stumbled to the old brick building that had been converted to loft apartments years ago. The one-block distance between the station and my home felt like the entire length of downtown Seattle. My legs moved like I had ten-pound weights tied to each ankle.

  Thank goodness tomorrow is transfusion day.

  Upon entering my building, I took the industrial elevator to the fifth floor and then walked down the hall after getting off the ancient lift. The moment I opened my front door, I knew I wasn’t alone.

  Light from the kitchen spilled out into the hall, the smell of chicken quesadillas enveloped me, and the sounds of gospel music filled the air. Mom. What was she doing here again?

  I closed the door behind me and let my backpack drop with a big bang before I rounded the corner to the kitchen. Mom stood at the stove with her back to rest of the house. Stella sat at the counter bar, working on her laptop.

  “Make yourselves at home,” I said pointedly and turned for the bathroom.

  “Nice of you to answer your phone,” Stella called after me.

  I slammed the bathroom door and turned the latch. I really need to change my locks.

  A wave of guilt washed over me. I should be grateful to see my family. Mom was making me dinner, and they were just trying to make sure I was okay. But how would I ever prove I could make it on my own if they continued to take care of me?

  I glanced at my reflection. Blotchy cheeks, bloodshot eyes, red nose, and chapped lips. I dug through my toiletries basket for eyedrops, lip color, and tinted powder. I washed my face and applied a little concealer to the black circles around my eyes and to my spotted cheeks. The peach gloss softened the blue tint of my lips. A little pink rouge gave me some “natural” color. Saline drops soothed the redness in my eyes.

  There. Now that I appeared a little more presentable, maybe Stella and Mom wouldn’t ask why I looked like a zombie. Before exiting my bathroom haven, I spritzed on two pumps vanilla and lavender body spray.

  Stella stood outside the bathroom when I opened the door. “About time. Was coming to see if you fell in the toilet.”

  “This is my place.”

  “Grandma’s.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Here we go again. Neither Mom nor Stella had been happy when the lawyer showed up at our house with paperwork last fall. Grandma Grace had left me her old downtown apartment in her will, to which I was to get the keys on my nineteenth birthday. Of course, it had to have some work done before I could move in. No one had lived here for almost twenty years.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Mom and I were going to take you out to dinner tonight, but you didn’t pick up or respond to our messages.” She uncrossed her arms and took my wrist. “Now let’s eat. I’m starving.”

  Chapter 4

  Traian sensed her presence the moment she stepped into the cemetery. He’d watched the frail, human girl come here over the last few months, but never really gave her much thought. She always walked up to the grave of Grace Greene, by the sturdy aspen tree. She’d sit and talk to the stone marker for hours, as if the inanimate object was a living person.

  Humans have such strange behaviors. Though he shouldn’t be surprised, after five thousand years of living.

  More like existing.

  Hiding in the shadows and manipulating the veil of time to keep nosy creatures from noticing his presence was not living. Twenty years he’d concealed himself. In the grand expanse of his life, twenty years should be a blip in time, but the last two decades had felt more like two thousand years.

  Now, for the first time in the last twenty years, he felt curious. And the subject of his curiosity stood a mere hundred meters from him.

  Traian focused on her blackened aura. Death hovered around her like a shroud of darkness waiting to squeeze out the last drop of life. Two weeks left, maybe two months… if she’s lucky, maybe a year. Yet she carried herself with confidence and purpose. Besides the blackness, sprinkles of white, silvery light twinkled around her torso every time she breathed—unusual for a human. Their auras comprised every color of the rainbow, but not silver or gold. Not even the gifted among them.

  He sniffed the air, taking in her scent. She was human through and through.

  He continued to watch her as she spilled her thoughts to the gravestone, observed as she kissed the hard surface and stood. However, instead of heading down the path to the cemetery exit, she meandered about the tombstones as if strolling through a garden.

  Such a strange girl.

  Now she changed direction, walking toward his location. She looked straight at his face, but didn’t see him. He backed away and slipped behind a nearby tree, just in case. The young lady walked past him, right to Eva’s grave.

  Something pulled at his heart.

  Of course.

  She worked at the flower shop where he’d ordered the arrangement for his beloved’s grave. Traian had smelled the girl’s scent on the roses. She must have seen the flowers, and their presence must have triggered her curiosity, as she had in him.

  He saw her reach out and touch the stone. A flash of light flared by her hand.

  Impossible.

  “Well, Eva,” she whispered, rubbing her fingers, “Somebody must not like you. Sorry.”

  How dare she?

  Eva was the love of his life, his second chance at finding a mate. She, like Evelina before her, had been taken too soon. These flowers… Well… it didn’t matter. He didn’t need to prove anything to this simple, human girl.

  The anger he felt toward her surprised him, though. The last person who had elicited this kind of emotion in him had died over nineteen years ago.

  A weak whimper drew his attention back to the girl. He almost left his hiding spot when arcs of light extended from the gravestone to her hand and entrapped her entire body. The girl’s heart sputtered from the shock of magic, and her lungs heaved from the burden of energy coursing through her body. If she didn’t let go soon, she would die.

  Traian didn’t want to witness her end.

  He watched the fingers of light.

  White. Eva’s fire. What in the devil’s beard is this?

  He’d touched Eva’s gravestone for years. There was not a trace of
magic around that plot. Neither did it contain Eva’s remains. He knew the marker had only been set here as a deterrent to those who would seek to extract any traces of magic left in her body. It was the same reason witches were to be burned and their ashes scattered in the sea. This was the only way to keep their power from falling in the wrong hands.

  The girl fell back onto the grass, gasping for air. She reached into her coat pocket for a device she held to her mouth.

  Inhaler. She’s asthmatic.

  Then he noticed her aura. For a blink of a moment, the silver light had replaced the death shroud. It beamed brightly for a flash, and then the darkness returned.

  The girl scrambled up to her feet, her balance wavering as she looked around. She glanced at his location by the tree and the scent of fear permeated the surrounding air—common from humans when they sensed a predator nearby. The predator usually being him.

  She ran down the hill, coughing as her lungs rebelled against the physical exertion.

  Silly girl. She will kill herself if she keeps this up.

  He could hear her organs screaming at her to stop, but she kept running.

  Traian followed her down the hill to the road next to the cemetery, keeping to the shadows of the trees. She stopped momentarily at a bus stop, glanced around, and then kept going until she reached the next stop, by some homes. Her heart raced far too quickly for someone in her condition.

  Intrigued by her body’s response, he stepped out from behind the tree. The girl’s eyes grew as she met his gaze. Though he wore shades, he felt her looking right through the tinted plastic, straight into his soul. Deep inside, he felt the hum of the chord she’d struck with that one look.

  He stepped back.

  The bus arrived, stopped briefly, and then sped away, taking with it the most interesting human he’d encountered in his life.

  Traian, you fool.

  She’d seen him, that he was certain of. But how? He’d stayed hidden from supernatural and human eyes for so many years. How could a frail, human girl have seen him? She’d walked right past him before, but now she’d noticed his presence. It made little sense.

  Despite his better judgment, Traian followed the bus, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. He watched her get off, walk across the street, and take the escalator down to the subterranean transport tunnels. He took the service entrance, which let him out in the northbound tunnel below. He tightened the time veil around himself to make sure she didn’t see him again, but just in case, he stayed hidden in the shadows.

  He hopped on the back of the Link train she boarded and rode all the way to the University of Washington stop. Keeping his distance, he shadowed the group of humans she’d surrounded herself with. Typical human behavior. They always sought refuge with numbers when they sensed danger. And he was indeed a danger to her.

  You should stop following her, he told himself, but he didn’t listen to his own advice.

  From a nearby tree, Traian watched through the windows as the girl went into a classroom. He’d been to this campus before, searching for clues on Eva’s whereabouts when she’d gone into hiding. He’d found traces of her scent here, but they’d all led to dead ends.

  He knew all kinds of preternatural creatures attended university in their attempts to blend in with the humans. None of them noticed Traian’s presence. He searched the air for any otherworldly scents. The only one he found tonight came from inside the building the girl had gone into, but it was so faint, it could easily be residual from a passing creature. He stayed on the girl’s scent. It didn’t change when she went inside the classroom. Her body still surged with the flight-or-fight response hormones and her heart continued to race.

  Calm down, girl, you’re going to kill yourself.

  His concern for the girl surprised him. Why did he care? She was just another human. Another blip in time. While Traian had no animosity toward humans, nor did he wish death to their species, the only role they played was sustaining his existence. Their life force gave him his power. Though, after five thousand years, he relied less and less on human blood, requiring little to get by—especially now that his single goal was to stay hidden. One human life meant nothing to him, as three more would replace one’s passing. He’d watched the population of humans grow from two million to several billion in his lifetime. Humans had a knack for survival.

  Go home, Traian. Leave her alone. She is no one to you.

  Again, he didn’t believe a word he said to himself. He should leave the girl but couldn’t. He couldn’t even go to his home in Romania. Traian hadn’t been there for over twenty years. He could never go back. His presence endangered all those he cared about…The small coven he’d created was safer without him. The Lake View Cemetery had become his home now, and the home of the only reminder of his love.

  For twenty years he’d sealed his stone-cold heart, but now here he was, hanging from a branch like a bat and watching a fragile human girl survive another lecture, scribbling away in her notebook. His strigoi vision zoomed in on the page she wrote on, and he realized why the surge of adrenaline in her body had not subsided.

  The symbol from Eva’s grave filled the entire page.

  A layer of ice surrounding his heart cracked.

  Traian released the branch and landed on his feet. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way back to the cemetery. Flying would have been more convenient, but it would also attract unwanted attention. He’d managed to stay hidden from his enemies while in their midst thus far, but one flap of his wings would draw their notice instantly.

  At the Lake View Cemetery, Traian hopped over the fence and ran past Eva’s grave, toward the large aspen tree and the rust-colored, marble tombstone he’d seen the girl visit so often over the last few months. He’d never had reason to come to this part of the cemetery. Two meters away, he stopped and focused his vision.

  Grace Greene

  July 1, 1945- October 31, 1998

  The date of death pierced his heart like an arrow, but the name ‘Grace Greene’ rolled around in his mind like an old river stone tossed about by the current of thousands of years of memories. He’d heard the name before, had heard the girl call her ‘Grandma’.

  I need to know more. He whirled around to head back to the university, but stopped right before the fence.

  You fool. What secrets do you think a fragile, human girl like her would have? She’s dying. She’s just another dead end.

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted a rat scurrying around between the hundred-year-old tombstones. In a flash, he snapped the rodent’s neck and dried up its life force. He cast the carcass into one of the mausoleums and went back to his tree perch.

  A new smell filled the graveyard, but he ignored it. He stayed the rest of the night and the next day in his usual hiding spot, blending in with the trunk. He would wait until she returned.

  Year after year, he’d stood suspended in this fir, watching humans and creatures walk right under his nose and never notice the predator sitting in the branches above, ready to pounce. The minutes spent waiting for the girl to return surpassed each of those years. Hunting for her scent would have been easier, but he’d increase the risk of exposing himself to the many enemies lurking about the city.

  Morning came. As did the afternoon. Two funerals, one hundred twenty-seven humans, one vampire, three fairies, and one drunk witch later, he caught the girl’s scent. It had changed, but there she stood, strands of flaming red hair blowing in the wind as she made her way right to Eva’s grave, four meters from his hiding spot.

  She took out her phone and fiddled around with the side buttons. Traian quickly realized she was trying to take a picture of the gravestone. This didn’t sit well with him. This was his beloved’s memorial, not a tourist destination.

  As quickly as the anger had ignited, it vanished when she tore a page out of the notebook she’d pulled from her backpack on the ground. He almost jumped from his perch when she cautiously reached for the stone with her finger—one more
zap of energy would stop her weak heart.

  But there was no electricity this time.

  She put the piece of paper over the symbol and lightly guided her pencil back and forth over the surface, the design of the symbol appearing on the paper like a shadow. She folded the paper when she finished and shoved her belongings back into the backpack.

  Traian felt torn between following her and examining the gravestone. Last night, the marker had shocked her half to death, but today, nothing.

  He jumped down after the girl had disappeared past the cemetery entrance. On hands and knees, he smelled the ground where she’d trodden. Faint traces of vanilla and lavender blended with rubber, grass, pesticides, and old leather.

  When he came to Eva’s tombstone, he ran a hand over its front. He shouldn’t have touched the stone, he hadn’t since he’d first arrived years ago. Traian didn’t want to leave any trace of his scent for his enemies to track—the strong pine essence of the tree hid what his time veil didn’t. Today, he needed to touch the grave marker. He had to know it was real and not another one of Eva’s magic tricks.

  It felt solid and cold, like it had nineteen years ago. With the tip of his finger, Traian traced the engravings on the surface. Each letter of Eva’s name felt like a knife, slicing through his bleeding heart. The symbol mystified him. What did a cross with an oval mean? Were the tongues of fire meant to represent the flames that Eva used to create from her palms?

  Traian had gone through his thousands of mental catalogues but had come up short. He rested his head on the stone, one crimson tear falling from his eye to land on the grass below. Then the aromas of vanilla and lavender with an earthy tone rich with minerals wafted under his nose. His pupils contracted as they did during a hunt.

  He had to follow this girl.

  In the semi-darkness, Traian shadowed her trail to the bus stop. He continued down the street, keeping his time veil up while increasing his pace. At the Capitol Hill station, he followed her scent down to the platform heading to the University of Washington. In the tunnel, he ran at full speed until he reached the end of the line. Her trail pulled him to the surface and down the street to a building next to the one she’d been in yesterday.