Page 73 of Discovery of the Vampire
Magic, dark and moody, pulsed inside of me. Through me. Building stronger and stronger as I fed my blood—Brogan’s blood—to the altar. The surrounding mist coalesced, taking vague human shapes that never quite solidified. I could almost see them—my mother's gentle eyes, my father's strong shoulders, my grandmother's weathered hands. Almost, but not quite.
"The book," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "Please. I need to find it before he hurts anyone else."
The spirits wavered, moving closer. I felt their presence—their love, their sorrow, their concern—but they remained silent about the thing I sought. Instead, impressions washed over me: warning, danger, sacrifice.
"Please," I begged, swaying as the ritual drained my strength. "I'm not strong enough to face him without it. I need it to send him back."
The candle flames suddenly flared a brilliant blue, and I gasped as knowledge flooded my consciousness—not about the book's location, but about myself. Power I hadn't recognized. Strength I hadn't acknowledged.
The spirits of my family were showing me something else entirely. Not where to find the book, but how to find my own power within this dark magic inside of me. Something I’d always shied away from because of how dangerous this power could be.
"No," I told them. "No! I can’t. Please!Por favor!Don't leave me!" The last came out as a desperate, hoarse scream as they faded away. Leaving me alone.
I collapsed onto the cold stone, my body folding in on itself as sobs wracked through me. The items on my makeshift altar scattered across the ground, my family's precious remnants now just objects again, devoid of the spiritual energy that had briefly animated them.
"Why won't you help me?" I whispered, my voice raw. "I can't do this alone."
But no one answered this time. There was only fog and stone and silence. My candles still burned, but with ordinary yellow flames now, casting distorted shadows across the weathered tombs. Blood dried on my palm, itching as it crusted over, the wounds healing with miraculous speed.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me.
I froze, every muscle tensing for a split second before I shoved myself off the ground, reaching for my knife. The cemetery should have been empty at this hour.
"You won't need that," came a soft, feminine voice.
I spun around, knife raised defensively. A woman stepped from behind a nearby mausoleum, her honey-blonde hair catching the dim candlelight. She wore flowing clothes in bright colors that seemed incongruous against the somber backdrop of the cemetery. Her brown eyes held a gentle warmth, but also unmistakable power.
Alice Moss. Not the ghost from my vision, but the flesh and blood witch.
I stood there, stunned, not knowing what to say. "I…I was…"
But she only smiled. "I know what you were doing." Her smile faded. "Ididn'tknow your type of magic was so brutal on the one wielding it."
Glancing up at the sky, I started to gather the candles and the now bloodstained mementos of my family, stashing them away in the reusable bag.
"You’re trying to find the book for him."
I saw no reason to lie to her. "Sí. Well, to use against him.” Holding the bag tight to my chest, I turned to face her. "I have to. It's the only way to keep you all safe." Renewed determination lifted my chin. "It's the only way to send him back to the hell he came from."
Alice watched me carefully. "You think the way to send him back is in this book?"
"Sí. Yes. I do. Why else would he want it so badly? He's powerful enough to destroy us all on his own. He doesn't need some old spell book. The only reason for him to need it is so no one can use it against him.” But then my shoulders fell. "Unfortunately, I still don’t know where it is.” My voice dropped to a whisper. "They won't talk to me."
"Your family," she stated.
A jolt of panic hit me. How long had she been watching?
But then I stopped. Took a breath. It didn't really matter. Staring down at the ground, I tried to figure out where I'd gone wrong. "I fasted and purified myself. I gave my blood, my soul, to the magic. I did everything I was supposed to do." Terrified, I raised my eyes to Alice's. “I don’t know what else to do. They won’t help me.”
Empathy filled her features and she crossed the short distance between us, wrapping her arms around me in a quick, hard hug before stepping back again. "I know how hard you tried. Your magic woke me up tonight. And that must've been you the other nights, too.” She paused. “Esme…"
She waited until I wiped my eyes and she had my full attention.
"You're a very strong witch. It's not your fault." Glancing at the tombs around us, she murmured, "We'll just have to find another way."
"There is no other way. Your high priestess forbid it."
Alice stared me right in the eyes and hers grew hard, her magic a pulsing white glow around her. "I love my aunt. I do. But I'm not going to sit around here anymore and do nothing while that monster plays with our lives."
