Page 134 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness
Evie continued her careful ritual with the grace of an ancient high priestess. The blooming ceiling birthed a field of stars, like the room where I first told Evie I loved her.
I assisted her dutifully. I forgot about my quest for control. My fears and limitations. My mind cleared and made space for service. It felt like I could finally breathe again.
Chests rose and fell in unison. Hands reached for each other as these humans fell deeper under Evie’s spell.
Humbled, I remembered at long last thatthiswas what it was all about.
Once more sigils had been drawn and protection measures in place, Evie’s eyes sharpened. She lifted a ceremonial dagger.
“Thank you for trusting me. It is only through death that we can become reborn.”
43
EVIE
Ikilled all twenty-five humans myself. They were my responsibility. Just before their last breath, they drank born blood. I cried each time the light in their eyes drained. I watched their lives play out behind their eyelids. I saw their homes, their families, their lovers and heartbreaks, their dreams and passions and hopes for the future. I saw the lives the born had stolen from them, the dark cast of oppression across every inch of their world.
Most of all, I felt their powerlessness. The overwhelming frustration of being born so weak in a world ruled by monsters.
I freed each soul from its corporeal cage, but they remained safe within the spell circle. A shimmering mist and gusts of wind whistled through the air. Blood blossomed from each chest, trickling into grooves in the floor to feed my sigils. Power surged, reaching some ineffable peak. I was positioned at the crossroads of The World. Infinite fates spread from me in a beautiful tapestry.
Kylo watched me like he was seeing Selena herself enter a religious temple. When I made my last kill, he kneeled before me and took my hands in his. He brushed his lips against each of my knuckles.
At this moment, our dynamic was upside down. And that felt right. When I was doing magick,Ihad the power.
And it felt so fucking good.
I brushed my thumbs over the tops of his hands before slowly pulling away. “Thank you. You can get the ink now.”
Kylo nodded and stood, devoted and wordless.
Unlike last time, the drain on my strength was steady and manageable. I could easily do the next three rounds at this pace.
I took back my position over the most prominent clan sigil in the center of the circle. All candles, crystals, and magickal objects were positioned in their proper places. Everything consecrated, everything blessed. Spirit allies held us in a protective cocoon.
I called to the shadows. I marked myself with born blood and licked my fingers clean.
In its bitterness, I saw The Tower one final time. I saw my father avoiding my eyes, preferring to look at the ground rather than atone for the abuse he allowed. My mother, eaten alive by shadows as she cursed my existence.
“From born blood we rise.”
I raised a white pillar candle in my right hand and pointed to the ground with my left. I became The Magician, the conduit, the fate weaver.
A concentration of power entered my crown and my right hand, flowing through my body and down to my pointed fingers.
I blinked, and we were on Etherdale’s streets. Fangs were bared, magick flying in all directions. We were maskless, clan tattoos proudly displayed. My chest rapidly rose and fell, a battle cry leaving my lips as I wielded godlike power.
Covetedpower.
I blinked again, and I was back in the spell room. A concentrated stream of shadow magick shot from my left hand. The shimmering gusts of mist combined with the shadow insome holy alchemy, fusing my magick with each spirit’s unique signature.
A gasp left my lips, my heart pounding hard. Spirits shot back into bodies. Darkness entered mouths and nostrils.
We all gasped as one. Eyes flew open. Kylo watched me protectively, standing close by.
Hearts began to beat, forever and inevitably changed by the process of death and rebirth. Hekate had them bear witness to the plight of the realm and the truth of themselves, triggering a spiritual awakening that would combat the bloodlust of vampirism.
“Drink,” I said.
