Page 1 of Vampire's Hearth

Aurora

Iwas pretty sure the flames wouldn’t kill me. At least, not right now. The heat prickled on every inch of my exposed skin, but I focused on keeping my eyes closed and filling my lungs with air, drawing in the scent of charred earth and incense. I had to see this through, no matter how much the reason behind the ceremony terrified me.

“It’s almost over, Aurora.”The sound knotted my heart as tears stung my eyes. It was my mother’s voice, but only in my head. Or at least, what I imagined it would have sounded like—if I’d ever heard it. Her voice always called me Aurora, never Rory. It hung around me—an echo of what could have been and a reminder of the mother I never knew. I shoved the thoughts into forgotten corners of my mind and focused.

The flames died out as suddenly as they had sprung to life, leaving me shivering in the night air with a circle of ash surrounding me. Just beyond it, my coven’s joined hands formed an unbroken circle, every set of eyes on me with a silent intensity. I clung to the cold light of the moon and stars, their distant embrace my only shield. Even in a translucent ritual robe, I would have felt less exposed than sitting cross-legged and naked on the grass with every defense stripped away.

But wasn’t that the point? Fire first, to cleanse and purify, and remove any tarnish that would not help me on my quest. And next, the coven would bestow layers of protection around me—the strongest kind, the protection given by a blood sacrifice. My insides tingled with nerves.

The circle broke as the High Priestess Regent stepped forward, all eyes snapping to her. Her silver and gold bracelets clinked together in a soft, rhythmic heartbeat as she moved to hold her hands over the line of ash. As if the slightest movement could unravel the forces that separated our worlds, her eyes closed. In one swift motion, she leaned forward to help me stand, her breasts escaping the confines of her robes, reminding me of my nakedness. I shrank away from her until her necklaces dangled before my eyes, the pendant bearing the lynx symbol of our coven meeting my gaze with silent, ancient wisdom. My spine straightened as I clenched my jaw.

“Rise, my child,” she said.

I picked up the objects on my left—the ring, a circle of power and protection, and the athame, the blade of the black-handled ceremonial knife cold and sharp in my hand. Her firm grip pulled me from the earth as if drawing me from the realm of the dead, making my legs tingle. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and her smile radiated a warmth that touched the motherless void within me.

She set the ring flat in her palm before laying the athame between two fingers, the blade resting on the ring. We walked counterclockwise along the circle, our hands joined at shoulder height, hers steadying me more than I’d care to admit. I stayed inside the circle, her on the outside, our paired touch just above the ash line separating my world from hers.

“Just like the vampires should be in a separate world—hell,”said my mother’s voice. The vampires, their evil a tarnish on the earth, were why I was undergoing the protection ritual. So many hunters had died in the past few years, all at the hands of one particular vampire. The hunters, the embodiment of good, walked the earth to counteract and stop the evil of the vampires. And then there was our coven, the Coven of the Blood. We held power over the life force the vampires craved and sought to balance good and evil, never allowing one side to overtake the other.

As we approached each coven member, the High Priestess Regent offered the athame without releasing my hand. Each woman grasped it, pricked her finger, and placed a drop of blood into the circle of the ring—her sacred offering added to the growing pool—before returning the knife. After the eleventh member completed her role, the High Priestess Regent offered me the dagger.

My hands trembled as I took the blade from her, and I caught her nod, a movement so slight I might have missed it had I not been studying each careful motion. I centered the tip of the athame above the ring’s center, where a pool of crimson had collected. I closed my eyes and gasped as I pierced the High Priestess Regent’s palm. Her blood mingled with the rest before she clenched the ring, her fist quivering as power surged through the metal. When she opened her hand, the blood vanished.

She guided my right hand to balance on her left as she spoke. “This ring, a token from your sisters, will guide and protect youas long as you wear it.” An involuntary tremor pulsed through my icy spine as she slid the ruby ring onto my fourth finger. “Now, return to our world.” She waved her hand over the ash circle in a gentle, undeniable command.

As I stood next to her, each coven member approached us, their faces solemn, their gestures the same—a slight bow of the head, a hug, each embrace echoing the bond we share, and a murmured blessing before my sister witch left the circle.

“May your journey be safe.”

“Peace go with you.”

“Goddess guard you.”

Each of the eleven blessings added a layer to the protection I felt wrapping around me. After the last embrace, I followed the stream of witches, leaving the High Priestess Regent to close the circle with a last prayer. We walked with reverence from the clearing, the ritual echoing in our minds, wondering what came next.

“Aurora, you know what comes next.”My mother was insistent tonight, but she was right. Tomorrow, I was going to Kentucky. Just days ago, a coven from Charleston had arrived with a warning. The vampire there was becoming more powerful and more influential. Then, in a vision, our High Priestess Regent saw an object hidden in a cave.

The voice echoed in my head.“And the way to stop him.”I closed my eyes, the weight of the knowledge causing my shoulders to tense. The vampire had killed every hunter who went against him because a stake to the heart did not affect him. Whatever hid in the cave would give us the upper hand against him. I was the one entrusted to find it and bring it back. Nausea bubbled in my stomach. If only they could have given us any information about who he was before they returned—even his name.

I drew in a long breath as I walked, the beauty of the field surrounding me with its green canopy created from old-growth cypress and oak draped in Spanish moss, the fragrance of the Southern florals calming me. The irony was sharp. This field, one of Georgia's most sought-after wedding venues, looked to many bridal couples like a place of joy and union. In truth, it concealed a sanctuary of blood and ancient rites, a place that hid secrets beneath its romantic facade.

The path I walked wound from the field to an old renovated barn, which provided changing rooms on the first floor. The coven used the rooms we would normally provide to a besotted bride and groom. Each grouping had a designated room—maidens in the bridal suite, mothers in the mothers’ room, and crones in the groom’s library. The separation was a custom as old as the coven, marking the passage of time and roles.

I sighed as I pushed open the heavy wooden door, feeling the remnants of the ritual’s power tighten in my chest. The chandelier in the cream bridal suite bathed it in a warm white light. I crossed my arms over my stomach, wanting nothing more than to sink into one of the comfortable armchairs that sat in a circle around the coffee table, but there was no time. Coven members getting changed already occupied several of the six vanities dotting the walls.

I approached a deep blue velvet chaise lounge—one of many situated between the vanities—with my clothes folded and stacked with exacting care at the end, my nakedness the last vestige of the ritual. I ran my finger along the band of the ruby ring before grabbing my black silk panties from the pile.

As I slid the soft material over my thighs, I swallowed air.Why choose me to go?It was a simple endeavor. Go to the caves Amara saw in her vision. She had even located an old map of the cave system among some of the coven’s belongings. Once there, use intuition and magic to locate a hidden object, then bring ithome. Locating the object was the hardest thing because when Amara tried to divine what the object was, her vision went black. But the blood of the coven should be powerful enough to locate it once a witch was close enough.

I glanced around the room before grabbing my skirt. Almost any of these women could take my place, one who hadn’t already proven her inadequacy to the coven. And if I couldn’t find whateveritwas, would the vampire amass enough of a following to destroy us all? A shiver ran through me, and goose bumps rose on my arms as I snapped the waistband button closed. I stared at my shirt, unmoving.

“Rory, are you okay?” I blinked, the question floating past me. “Rory?”

I turned toward the voice and nodded at Jade, my closest friend since we were toddlers. “I’m sorry. My head is still foggy. I’m sure it’ll clear up after the feast. Do you know what we’re having?”

Jade slipped on her shirt. “I don’t, but I’m starving. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know until just before the meeting. I knew someone was going but didn’t know it would be me. We’ll do something before I leave—promise.” I threw on my shirt before straightening my hair and folding my unused robe, the fabric slipping through my fingers as I placed it in my bag.

---