Evangeline’s POV
I didn’t get the chance to ask Marcel how he knew about our magic or what he meant about our parents until some time later.We did as instructed, and he walked us right past the gathering of blood drenched animals who were crouched and contorted on all fours, picking through pieces of torn and mangled meat.Two men stood out from the others. One of them was tall and broad, with long silver hair and scars that crisscrossed his exposed chest, arms, and face. He was the Lord. It was obvious from just a glance.He was well dressed from the waist down, like Marcel, and the man like creatures would not look him directly in the eye. The man beside him was smaller in every way and looked to be nothing more or less than an average person, except for the leather collar around his neck and the long leather strap which hung from the collar, down towards the ground, then turned up and led right into Lord Halen’s hand where he was sat atop a magnificent stallion.When I looked closer at the gathering of feeding creatures, I saw that the ‘meat’ was wearing clothes. The fabric was all stained the same shade of deep, dark red.These creatures, who looked like men but moved around the ground like spiders or crabs, were drinking the blood of my family and playing with their dead bodies like a hound with a bone. My stomach clenched, and my throat tightened, but there was nothing left inside me to expel.Marcel glanced back and gave me a warning look out of the corner of his eye. I wanted to run to them and search for my mother. I could only hope she wasn’t in there, that she had somehow managed to get away, but who could outrun these animals? I kept walking, my eyes on Marcel’s back, my hands bound, and an empty feeling hollowing out my insides.Repressed tears stung my tired eyes, and I knew that in the last twenty minutes, my life had gone from happy and peaceful to dark and uncertain.Annekka was beside me in body, but thankfully, her mind had gone elsewhere. She didn’t look at the slaughtered pile of bodies that had been gathered to burn.She didn’t flinch when Lord Halen strode up to Marcel and congratulated him on finally taking a prize or two for himself, then looked from Annekka to me. His leering gaze started at my feet, swept up my body, stopping at my chest, then up to my face. The hungry look he gave me that day was the first of many, and my skin crawls with repulsion whenever he finds a reason to touch me or brush against me in passing.Lord Halen was delighted that his son had captured two innocent young girls and was leading them away to feed upon them.I wondered for a moment if, by following Marcel’s instructions, I had traded a quick and bloody death for a long drawn out one, but still death none the less. I told myself that what I had seen in my mind was a sign that I was safe, and by extension, so was Annekka.Marcel led us to two horses, one pitch black, as dark as the night, and the other just as black but with a wide blaze of white from his forelock down his face to his pink velvety nose.Marcel wasted no time in picking us up like we weighed nothing and plopping us onto the wide back of the second horse. He carefully untied our hands and then rebound them, this time fastening them at our front and attaching them to the saddle.It took several hours in the baking heat of the midsummer sun to ride to the castle. Marcel led our horse by a rope whilst riding his own, but he never went faster than a walk, most likely out of concern that we would fall.I didn’t tell him that Annekka and I are both able riders and that we would be more than capable of staying atop our mount with or without the aid of the thin, uncomfortable saddle.I didn’t tell him because if I wanted to escape whatever awaited us at the end of this journey, I knew that fleeing on horseback would be faster than my feet could ever carry me.If he knew we could ride, he might anticipate my escape plan if you could call one errant thought a plan.Halen and his horde of raiders overtook us only a few miles into our ride, and after they had disappeared into the distance and the dust settled, Marcel finally broke the deafening silence.“What are your names?” He asked a simple question, and the answer was easy, but it stuck in my throat. I knew I should answer him, tell him what he wanted to hear, and hope that he would come to see us as more than prey.I even opened my mouth to tell him my name, but no sound came out. I was stuck in my own mind, desperately searching the image of the pile of bodies for my mother but becoming distracted by the feel of his lips on my skin.I remember seeing an arm hanging limply, on its wrist was a suede string with three small, pink seashells. Annekka had made it as a gift for her mother before we left the coast to travel here three years ago.“I am Annekka. This is Evangeline. Are you going to eat us?” Annekka’s monotone voice surprised me and she sat up straighter between my arms, which were holding onto the reins with a grip that turned my knuckles white, as if they would have stopped me from floating away in the despair which threatened to pull me under.I wondered then, and still wonder now, what became of my mother? I don’t recall seeing her, but the pile was wide, and she could easily have been lost in the middle. I can not bring myself to believe that she perished that day, until I see her body she remains alive in my heart and in my mind.By the time Blackledge Castle came into view, I was becoming at ease with Marcel, and Annekka was more present than she had been at the beginning of the ride.Marcel told us about his father, the High Priestess’ curse, and the vampires that he made in order to grow his empire and how his views on the sanctity of life directly opposed his father.I had heard some of the stories before but they were told by the elders who wanted to keep us close to home and fearful of exploring too far from our encampment, or men we met on the road who joined us for shelter for a night, most of whom had imbibed in far too much mead to be considered reliable in their accounts of what they had seen. I assumed they were spinning a tall tale to frighten the little nomad children.Whatever the reason for the frightful stories, it worked, none of us dared stray far from home and even though as we grew older, we began to complain about our lack of freedom, there was also a comfort in the constant companionship our fears demanded.It was immediately obvious that Marcel was nothing like the man who sired him, and I hoped his mother was the reason, especially since he intended for Annekka and I to be her maids.He made it clear that he would keep us under his protection, and that we must maintain the appearance that he was feeding from us and we were his and his alone for that purpose, but he did not want us under his feet or the constant temptation to actually drink our blood. There were other people in the castle who would willingly satiate his innate hunger.I was young and had no experience of men, but hearing that he wanted minimal interaction with us caused a splinter of hurt in my chest.At fourteen years old, we were both old enough to know that what we were being offered was better than the alternative.Marcel had told us that the men they had taken from our settlement would join others in the cells beneath the castle and eventually be turned into vampires for Halen’s army.He also told us that if Lord Halen tried to turn us, we would die. None of the witches had ever survived the transformation process and despite searching for answers and turning to every magical creed, doctrine and being he could find, Marcel had made very little progress in ridding himself of the curse or finding a way to stop his father from continuing to grow his army.A life of servitude or a painful death at the hands of a monster, it wasn’t much of a choice, but I knew I needed to survive. I also felt something else that day. A seed of vengeance was sewn, and I have nurtured that seed every day since. Lord Halen will pay for the lives he has taken, and the help I need to exact my revenge has come from the most unlikely of places.Lady Constance has been kind to me. It is obvious that she is where Marcel gets his humanity from, and I am thankful every day that it is he who found us in the woods.In all of his wisdom, Marcel remains oblivious to his mother’s internal struggle for survival. It is not that he is blind to her suffering, more that she has perfected the art of hiding it, and I have been drawn into her schemes and plotting. One day, she will be free, but not as long as Marcel remains here. For my mistress to take her freedom, I have to let Marcel go.“Have they returned?” Lady Constance asks as I slide her along the polished floor. Every time she goes missing from her chamber, I find her in here.Of all the rooms in the entire castle, she chooses the dining hall in which to hide and seek solitude. Most people would choose the library or the gardens, even the kitchens would provide more efficient hiding places than this room.“Not as yet, my lady. But I daresay they will return this evening, if not tomorrow morning.” I puff a little as I pull my mistress to her feet. She gives me a look that tells me her patience is wearing thin. She has requested that I call her Constance on many occasions, but if overheard, I would be lashed again. The scars on my back burn at the memory of the one and only whipping I have ever been dealt.In my naivety, I thought the grindstone was a harsh punishment, but Lord Halen has a way of making my former life seem like something out of a children’s tale.On our first night here, Annekka and I were stripped of our clothing and tied to poles in the courtyard along with two girls of similar age from another settlement further down the river. The same one that had two boys go missing in the woods.“You will remember this day for as long as you should dwell within my walls. My protection is not given freely, and I do not suffer disobedience or disloyalty. Should any of you step out of line, attempt to flee, or become derelict in your duties, all four of you will suffer far greater than twenty lashes.” I remember Lord Halen’s words as if he spoke them yesterday, not five years ago.The lashes hurt in a way I had not expected, like flames licking my bare skin, then a sting that sunk through my flesh right down to the bone. My back tore like it was made of dried leaves, but I made not a sound. I sank my teeth into my lip and focussed on the pain I could control.The thing that hurt the most that day was lash twenty, but not because of the raw, weeping wounds it came down on.Lord Halen called Marcel up onto the wooden platform where the four of us were now kneeling facing the gathered crowd. Our bodies had sunk lower with every crack of the whip. The pain was like nothing I have ever felt before or since.“My son has seen fit to speak on my behalf and bring two of you here, so he will deliver the final strike, as a reminder that he is also responsible for not only your protection but your compliance.” I didn’t need to see the monster’s face to know that he was wearing the signature smirk I have come to see in my nightmares.I can not wait for the day I get to wipe that smug look off his evil face for good.Marcel’s POV I stand in silent contemplation for a moment and consider my options. The answers to every question I have asked could be right behind this door and honestly, now that I’m potentially stood on the precipice of finding what I have been searching for, I’m terrified. If these people are descended from Hikura, they could be the answer to everything, the key to the lock I have been unable to open thus far. Well… they could have been had I found my voice and spoken out against my father. I know that not a single person survived this culling, Halen came here with the sole intent of wiping out the entire coven and that is precisely what happened. When it comes to witches my father becomes a whole different kind of beast and I get a glimpse of the pure evil that resides within his comparatively innocuous shell. As I reach out to push the heavy looking door open, it moves just a bit, as if of its own volition and my breath sticks in my throat. The hairs on the back of my neck stan
Marcel’s POV The ride home is not a particularly long one, and most of it passes in a haze. As expected, Halen set the meeting house alight and watched with sadistic satisfaction as the roof caved in, and flames leapt out of the windows as if desperately seeking an escape. I know that feeling well. Halen is practically foaming at the mouth with rage, and he stops on more than one occasion to feed from his unfortunate, human pet. Vincent is the current flavour of the month, I don’t see the appeal personally, he is almost as repulsive in both appearance and attitude as the man who currently dines on him, or perhaps that is the point, I doubt I will ever understand the twisted workings of my father’s mind. Blood quenches not only his thirst but also his anger. The way he feeds, by sinking his teeth into his victims neck, is unnecessarily brutal.If he knew I drank from a cup, he would most likely implode with shame and disappointment. The coven’s priestess, who I assume is Imelda, ha
Imelda’s POVI have been waiting for this day ever since I woke up in the stone circle surrounded by the spirits of my old coven.They say time heals all wounds. Well, I’m here to say, that is total bullshit. It’s been a century, one hundred years, since my mother chose to end her life and pass her deathless gift to me. One hundred years, and I still have a hole in my heart where she used to fit.The thing that hurts the most is that it was her choice leave. I understand, though I find it hard to accept, but she could have told me. She could have given me time to prepare myself, to ask the questions I will now have to hold onto until we meet again. It feels like she left a conversation part way through, she just turned her back and walked away.In my typical fashion, I did not take the news of her passing well. Okay, maybe I’m polishing that a bit. I fell utterly and spectacularly apart. One night, when I couldn’t carry the burden of my grief any longer, I sat inside the circle of tow
Marcel’s POVWith a deep and steadying breath, I embrace the dawning of a new day and take my first steps towards a future governed by myself. My heart beats furiously with a mixture of trepidation and hope.After several hours of running through fields, wading across icy streams and avoiding the main routes into and out of Blackstone, the forest finally comes into sight. The dark green haze which looms tantalisingly on the horizon is where my answers await me. Halen’s warning rings in my ears, ‘those who go in, do not come out’.“Another of your lies.” I utter to his disembodied voice inside my head. If Imelda could see me now she would probably think me a mad man. To be honest, it’s more for reassurance than anything else.As I venture closer to the densely packed treeline, the haunting echoes of howls reach my ears, a chilling reminder of unknown dangers which lie ahead. My hand unconsciously drifts back up towards the amulet Evangeline gave me. The sun is now at its apex, but its
Constance’s POVI watch from the window as my son’s tall, dark figure retreats into the thick mist. My heart is heavy with a potent mixture of grief and envy, I know he has felt like a prisoner here for almost as long as I have. I would give nearly anything to be running from this place right beside him. First there is something I must do, and when the deed is done, I too, will be free to begin living my life.It has been fifty-six long days since Marcel left. I am not losing my mind, not yet anyway. I know the figure I see in the mist is only a memory of the morning he left. It is the feeling of hope that this memory gives, that keeps me going when it feels like there is no point in waking up every morning. The hope that I too, will soon be free like Marcel.Evangeline creeps into the dining hall and the screeching sound of chair legs scraping along the polished wood floor sets my already tender nerves on edge. She is now my only comfort in this cold and lifeless castle, since Marcel
Halen’s POV“We are this fucking close to tracking her down.” I hold my finger and thumb a hairs breadth apart in front of Vince’s face, my body convulsing with anger as I fight the urge to rip out his throat and have one final drink from his useless corpse. “This close. And you and the rest of them can’t even keep watch over one silly girl and my wife. What the fuck is the point of having you around if you are incapable of earning your keep?” I can barely see through the descending red mist. It’s not just that they are missing, but they have no idea of the dangers outside our gates. They could be absolutely anywhere.Vinny looks terrified and rightly so. It wouldn’t surprise me if he soiled his breeches, it would not be the first time I have scared the shit out of one of the incompetent leeches hanging around the place. They come here, pleading for health, strength and immortality, but very few are prepared to pay the price I ask in return for the gift only I can bestow.Vincent has
Marcel’s POVDays turned into weeks and weeks into months.I have settled into a peaceful life with Blackledge Pack, it is about as different from my previous life as you could possibly get. The people here are all one big family. They hear each others thoughts, work together in everything they do, raise their children, or pups, as a community, and everyone has a place.I know I don’t really belong here, the wolves are not my kind, but I feel more at home with the pack than I ever felt under Halen’s roof. The old woman I met my first day here, Gladys, has become a real friend to me. She and Imelda have known one another since well before my time and it turns out Imelda is partially responsible for the pack's supernatural longevity. Imelda’s magic draws on their ancestral bond with the land and life is literally funnelled into the collective. I can’t help wondering if Halen knew exactly what lie within these woods or if he simply knew that whatever it was, was beyond his reach and unde
Evangeline’s POVMy visions of this evening have been pretty accurate up until this point. I saw the cave, the stake, even the flowers, but I did not foresee the conflict between Constance and myself. I have lived through each and every day, spurred on by the thought of putting an end to Halen’s tyranny and getting justice for the slaughter of my family and destruction of my home. Not once did it occur to me that Constance would want to slay her demon.She has lived under his rule for much longer than I, and if I am honest with myself I know she has earned the right to be the one who uses the stake, but I can not let go of the burning hatred that drives me, I will never get over it if I fail to fulfil my vow to end him.“He will be in the library soon and the fire should already be lit.” Constance whispers and looks at the bundle of pale blue flowers in my hand.“I will meet you there. I just need to get a couple of things from my room. Do you have everything you need?” I ask her gent