I was almost back at the tour bus when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt the prickle that indicated someone was watching me. Instead of looking around, I continued on so that whoever it was wouldn’t know I sensed them, stopping to look behind me in the window of the bus.
A man stood apart from our tour group, dark glasses covering his eyes, and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
I pretended to bend down to tie the lace of my trainers, touching the ground to detect any discrepancies in the land energies that would suggest a magic user. Instead, I found a block, like the natural flow encountering a brick wall.
Every time I visited this place it was a risk, but even after all this time I hoped to find answers to where the women who had become my family had disappeared. I came here as a pilgrimage to look for any signs that one of us had returned, like the crystal I had buried in the sand when I tied my other shoe lace about an hour ago.
Inside the bus was cool with air conditioning, and I relaxed to watch out the window while everyone filed on as they walked back. Another man with black sunglasses had joined the first, both of them watching everyone return to the bus with their heads lowered slightly so they could talk without anyone being able to read their lips.
The couple in front of me threw themselves in the seats, complaining about the heat outside. They should be grateful they had air conditioning—it had been a recent invention. Most of us learned to acclimate to the temperature we lived in in the days prior to its invention. They were a new age couple who had seemed to have an opinion on everything, including why sacrifices were offered in this place. Two nights ago, they had wanted to perform a séance, and wore tie-dyed T-shirts and lots of bangles and crystal jewellery. They were how the world viewed magic users, not how myself and others like me portrayed ourselves, since magic was on the inside, not in ornate decorations.
The intercom crackled before the tour guide’s voice made him sound as if he was sitting beside me. “I think that’s everyoneback on the bus. We will be heading straight to the hotel we’re staying in tonight. I’ll answer questions and give you more information about places we’ll be visiting as we travel there.”
I slid down in my seat, my sunglasses covering my eyes as I discreetly observed the men outside. There was nothing human about them, and my heart pounded loudly in my chest, closing my energy in tightly around me to prevent them from determining which person on the bus was a magic user.
The hotel was an old monastery, the rooms steeped in history that acted as a layer of protection against anyone trying to detect supernatural energy inside. I automatically worked my way around the room, creating a null shield for me to hide behind. My home was completely masked, spells incorporated into the foundations, and every brick that created it. It was a safe haven for any witch who needed protection from the predators of this world.
My phone pinged, and I swiped it open.
Maia:Annalise from the vampires left a message. Her daughter’s enchantment has broken.
It was hard to contain the energy of an Elemental Sorceress, so I had bound her powers until she met her fated mate who would protect her. I typed a quick reply.
Me:Tell her that it means she no longer needs it as she is ready to step into her own destiny.
I tended to try and avoid interfering with others’ fate, but Annalise’s story had touched my heart. I detested the creatures who were crawling their way up from Hell, and stalking an innocent child was an unforgivable sin. Tasha would take her place in the upcoming war between Heaven and Hell, and that would only happen if she survived to adulthood.
When I was finished, I changed for dinner and put on my pendant, which had been painstakingly made two hundred years ago by a medicine man in Africa who specialised in soul magic.When I wore it, no one could detect who I was or what my gifts were.
Peru was famous for many things, but potatoes and sweetcorn were part of the staple diet, even the local beer made from corn. No matter where I travelled in the world, this was the cuisine I loved, including the dessert mazamorra morada, made from purple corn and fruit.
I tended to travel alone since the magical energy of two witches was harder to hide than that of a lone witch, and I didn’t need any unwanted attention on me. Therefore, on tours, even though I had to sit at the table with the others, I preferred to talk as little as possible.
Halfway through the meal, I became aware of the sensation of being watched, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. It was something humans had become accustomed to over the years, and several members of our group looked over to the back corner. I silently sipped my water, my fingers automatically seeking out my pendant, engaging myself in a conversation with one of the people at my table even though I had no interest in their conversation.
After twenty minutes, I excused myself to go to the toilet, checking the inhabitants of the back left table on my return. Two men with dark hair sat watching our group, their eyes glowing amber in the darkness to denote their lycan heritage.
I retook my place at the table and tried to concentrate on the conversation. I hadn’t encountered lycans on any of the other times I had visited this place, and I tried to calm my heartbeat since they would be able to detect any irregularities.
“Do you often travel alone?” Sylvia asked. She sat to my right with her husband, Frank.
“Sometimes,” I replied, smiling to cover my disinterest. “The friend I tend to travel with had a family gathering, and I’ve always wanted to visit Machu Picchu.”
“What did you think of the site at Ollantaytambo?” Sylvia asked. “I found it fascinating with that massive Incan fortress and large stone terraces on the hillside. It felt as if I could reach out and touch history.”
“I would love to have seen it in its prime,” I replied, even though I had been there to witness it in all its glory.
“The Sun Temple was my favourite part of the tour, followed by the Princess Baths fountain.” Sylvia dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “I read an article that said they sacrificed children to the gods.”
“Thankfully the world has evolved from those types of practices,” I murmured. “No one should have to give their life so another can benefit.”
She continued to gush about articles she had read on the ancient site, and I nodded and smiled in the appropriate places, all the time conscious of the men who were following our group. Normally, I left the table early, but tonight I stayed so that it would be hard to read my aura in amongst all the others.
I slid the locks in place in my room, and picked up my phone.
Me:Lycans following our group.
My phone pinged a few minutes later.