The Return (The Witch Hunter Saga)

  "Do you really trust Zac?" Alex asked, suddenly. "I mean, with Morgan and everything."

  "Alex, I don't know," she sighed. "I've always known what to do in one way or another, but this? It's a new thing for me."

  "You've never been in love?" he asked, surprised.

  "No. Not until now. I was never meant to."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I was the last. If it went the way it should have, then it would have been my brother and I. We knew that was it. We both had a duty to see through."

  "Wow," Alex said quietly. "I'm sorry."

  "Love hasn't been high on the priority list," she huffed. "Hunting and being hunted doesn't really give one much opportunity to settle down. Besides, I'm not the kind of person who is easy to know. I can't exactly be truthful to anyone."

  "Not until now, at least." He glanced over to her and smiled, ever the gentleman.

  "Alex, you're one of a kind, you know that?"

  "Sure," he shrugged.

  She sighed, resting her head back on the seat. "I don't know if I'm right for him. Or anybody."

  "I don't believe that," he scolded her. "There's someone out there for everybody. You and Zac belong together."

  "Sometimes I think I was born whole to begin with. It's just me against the world."

  "Don't even think it, Aya. We'll get back Gabby, kill that a-hole Arturius and you and Zac will live happily ever after."

  "It's a lovely dream," she whispered, her tone warning him to drop it.

  Alex pulled the car up and pulled the hand brake on, turning off the engine. They sat outside a ramshackle little cottage, the garden so wild it almost hid the house entirely from the street. Aya snorted at the irony. It was a witches house, through and through. Not wasting a moment more, she got out of the car and was on the door step in the blink of an eye, Alex running up the path behind her.

  "Geesus," he said. "Some of us don't have superhuman speed, you know."

  "Sorry."

  When the door suddenly opened behind them, she turned back around to come face to face with the woman she knew to be Sophia. She was in her late seventies, perhaps, and the spitting image of a Cohen she once knew. All wild hair, olive complexion and curious chestnut eyes. Yes, she was a Cohen.

  Sophia was looking at her with something akin to reverence. Aya needed to be careful around this one. The witch knew exactly who she was with a single glance.

  "I never thought I would ever see a star standing on my front porch," she said, making Aya smile despite herself.

  "Hello, Sophia," she said, not giving away her surprise. "I understand you know why we're here."

  "Yes, yes, of course." She gestured for them to come inside, Alex smiling shyly at the old witch.

  "As you can see," Aya said evenly, "I don't need to be invited. I can walk wherever I want to. You know what became of me and you know what I am capable of. But know that I am asking for your help and you are free to give it if you wish. If you wish the opposite, then know that I will leave, no questions asked."

  Sophia chuckled, "You said the same thing to my great great grandmamma."

  Aya cocked her head at the old woman who sat in a well worn armchair. "Violet Cohen."

  "That's the one."

  They sat on the sofa beside her and Alex said, "Arturius has taken Gabby and we need to get her back."

  "Arturius?"

  "He's one of the founding vampires," Aya explained. "She's in a lot of trouble."

  "I felt something had happened to her, but not this. There have been vampires hanging about," Sophia said. "But don't worry about me. They'll never get close."

  "We need your help in locating her, since you are of the blood."

  "Certainly. Anything for my Gabrielle."

  "Do you need anything?"

  "No, no. I just need myself."

  Aya sensed Alex's uneasiness and grasped his hand. He radiated a fear of the unknown and she realized that he hadn't seen a witch practice before. Not even Gabby. There wouldn't be anything for him to worry about. Sophia would close her eyes and meditate on her granddaughter. Everything would happen inside of her mind.

  They watched the witch silently as she seemed to drift away, searching. Aya had faith that this would only take a minute. Those from Ismena's line were of the ether. Magic was easy for them.

  "She's still in Ashburton," Sophia said, opening her eyes. "An old house with a red mantle, falling into disrepair. Outside the town, but still within it. There are roses in the garden and the grass has grown high. There are no fences, but there is a broken white letterbox by the sidewalk."

  Aya looked to Alex, who exclaimed, "I know that house. It belonged to Mr. Forester. But he died last year and it's been empty since then."

  "A prefect place for vampires to hide," Aya rolled her eyes. "No human occupants."

  "I would guess that someone is there now," Sophia added.

  "A human security system." Of course they would have found a sympathizer or compelled someone to sign the deed over to. With so much at stake with Gabby, they would take no chances of the brothers finding and taking her back. What they didn't count on was her still being alive.

  "We need to go then," Alex said. "Who knows what's happening to her."

  "Gabby is strong," Sophia said. "She won't give in so easily."

  Aya shook her head, "I know Arturius. He will have a plan and if it's what I suspect, then we are in serious trouble."

  Sophia drew in a sharp breath and placed a shaking hand over her eyes. "It's the same, isn't it?" she asked, quietly.

  "Yes."

  "The same as what?" Alex asked, looking between them, his features panicked.

  "When I first came to Ashburton, I was looking for a witch," Aya explained. "A witch that had been practicing dark magic. Evil magic. That witch was one Violet Cohen, a servant in the service of the Degaud's. It wasn't long before I understood that she could be saved, that the darkness was controlling her, not the other way around."

  "You saved her, right? So you can save Gabby?"

  "I hope so," she sighed. "We have to get to her first."

  "Then let's go," he went to stand, but Sophia placed an arm on his, pulling him down again.

  "Wait," she said. "I have a gift for you, Aya."

  "A gift? Why?"

  "In case you ever came back, I was asked to show you something that might help you. After all, you helped our family. If Violet died, then our line would have ended."

  Aya shook her head, frowning. "You witches and your cryptic messages. I don't remember that being part of the gift."

  Sophia ignored her. "There's something you need to remember."

  "I've had two thousand years of remembering. I think I'll be okay."

  Sophia chuckled, "This is a courtesy, dear. There is something weighing on your heart and this might help you decide."

  Before Aya could complain, Sophia placed her hands on her temples and her vision blurred. Damn witches, she thought before she was taken away.

  Ashburton, Louisiana

  June, 1863

  Aya stood at the edges of the lavishly decorated parlor in the Degaud Manor and watched the annoyingly uptight socialites partake in the exasperating human event known as a ball. Louis and Marie Degaud had invited her the previous day over tea in New Orleans. Well, they hadn't done it on their own, she'd compelled an invitation from them, but she needed to be there. She was looking for the Cohen witch, who was among their household servants. She needed an in to the house and this was it. It may be the only time she could corner her and save the young witch from herself.

  As decorum demanded, she wore the appropriate attire and spoke the appropriate pleasantries, but she did nothing but watch and wait. The dress was over the top. It was a simple emerald blue with a tight corseted bodice and what seemed like thousands of skirts. How she hated what women had to wear to be considered respectable. She'd rather dress in trousers and a shirt and be done with it. But no, she was a lady and had to conduct hers
elf as such. Society was as evil as it had always been.

  Letting her gaze wander around the room, she saw a few familiar faces. Businessmen from New Orleans and Baton Rouge and their wives, socialites from Ashburton and beyond. It was harder for the Degaud's since New Orleans had been declared a free city the year before. The ball was a blatant attempt to foothold their social status. Most, if not all of the attendees were Confederates.

  Aya's gaze slipped over them, uninterested. The young man dancing with a young chestnut haired woman to her left, that was the Degaud's youngest son. Her eyes sweeping the room a second time, she caught no sight of any servants and would have to excuse herself the first moment she could be missed. But, when her gaze met a pair of green eyes she faltered. She vaguely recognized the man to whom they belonged, but what gave her pause was the uniform. He was blatantly with the Confederacy.

  She turned her head and watched him approach with an air of apprehension. Wasn't he the eldest son of Louis Degaud? The one who had caused all that scandal? Running off to join the Confederacy to spite his parents who wanted him to become the next tyrant of their family. The next plantation owner. It seemed this young man had some spine, at least.

  "Good evening," he said, bowing his head to her.

  "Evening," she replied, politely, dipping ever so slightly into a curtsy as society demanded of her. She offered her hand and he took it, his grasp on her fingertips light and hesitant, as if he was afraid of hurting her.

  "Captain Zachary Degaud," he bowed his head, kissing her lightly on her outstretched hand.

  She looked him up and down and he laughed quietly at her blatant perusal.

  "Captain?" she asked. "You're a little young, are you not?"

  "Age has nothing to do with skill," he said, a grin playing at his lips.

  "I suppose not."

  "May I ask your name?"

  She looked him up and down again, earning herself a wicked grin. "I am Lady Anastasia."

  "Ah, so you are the English woman I have been hearing so much about."

  "It would seem that way."

  "And may I ask, Lady Anastasia, what a beautiful lady such as yourself is doing standing here alone?"

  Aya snorted, a smile playing at her lips. "I do not care much for these social gatherings. A lot of pomp, if you ask me."

  The Captain let out a laugh and shook his head. "I am inclined to agree with you," he said. "May I ask you for a dance?"

  She looked at his outstretched hand and then towards the middle of the room where couples were turning demurely, hardly touching. It didn't take her fancy.

  The Captain frowned and glanced over his shoulder, following her scowl. "Perhaps not." He sounded disappointed, but offered another solution. "Perhaps you would do me the honor of accompanying me on a tour of the house? There are some rather lovely paintings in the hallway and the study."

  "Unchaperoned?" She let her head fall to the side, a quizzical look on her face.

  "We do things differently here in Louisiana," he grinned, offering her the challenge.

  Sighing, she let the Captain take her arm and lead her into the hallway and into the study, which was dark and empty. She suddenly felt awkward, being alone in the dark with a human man and she being very much a vampire.

  "I apologize if I'm being presumptuous, Lady Anastasia, but I would like to dance with you without jealous eyes watching." His voice was hushed as he leant close to her ear, his arm dropping away as he turned to face her.

  "Oh, so this was a ploy to lure me away?"

  "I admit some deceptiveness on my part," he winked. "Am I forgiven?"

  "Not at all, Captain Degaud," she inclined her head, amusement in her voice.

  He let his eyes drop to her lips before meeting her curious gaze and she faltered. Stepping forward, the Captain slid his hand onto her waist and took her hand lightly in his. Much too close than society deemed appropriate. There was an annoying amount of space between them and Aya stepped forward impulsively, pressing herself against him.

  "Lady Anastasia," he murmured, his lips brushing her hair as he began to move her side to side in time with the music drifting down the hallway.

  This human was curious to her. She'd never felt this drawn to anyone before. Anyone so… mortal. What did it mean? His touch was oddly calming.

  "Shh," she crooned, silencing him, all to aware of the intoxicating sound of his racing heart. Letting her head drop to the crook of his neck, she listened to the blood rush through his veins and the hitch in his breath when she sighed. The whole world had dropped away as she stood there, his arms circling her waist, his lips against her hair. She forgot that she was a vampire, that his blood would sustain her life. She didn't feel the inclination to bite down into his neck and she was surprised at her restraint. She caught herself thinking what it would be like to kiss him, his hands on her bare skin. Who was this man?

  "Where did you come from?" the Captain whispered, breaking the spell that had fallen over them. "Are you a dream?"

  Reluctantly pulling herself away, she gazed up at his green eyes expectantly. She couldn't tell him anything. Where she came from, what she was doing. She would have to send him away. Aya dropped her gaze and offered her arm. He took it with a frown and they walked back to the parlor and into reality.

  "I leave for Virginia in the morning," he said, releasing her from his grasp.

  "Well," she smiled to cover her reluctance. "Fair thee well, Captain Degaud."

  He bowed, taking her hand and brushed his lips lightly across her knuckles as if it were a gesture between secret lovers. Green eyes sparkled up at her in the warm lighting of the parlor and she caught herself flushing. He turned with a lopsided grin and began to walk away. She watched him move across the room, frowning as he stopped to talk to many other ladies along the way, kissing a hand here and there. Looking away, she sighed. She wasn't here to pray on innocent humans, no matter how alluring they were. Catching sight of Mr. Rochester through the window, she moved through the crowd, promptly putting the handsome Captain out of her mind.

  She had work to do.

  They'd met before.

  Aya didn't understand how she could have forgotten. Now that Sophia had stirred up the memory, it was as clear in her mind as if it had happened yesterday. Zac didn't remember. If he did, he would have told her about it. He would have gone off to war and promptly forgotten about it and she had gone off and saved a young witches life. There were bigger things to think about than a pretty lady.

  She remembered that Mr. Rochester was having a torrid affair with one Violet Cohen. The witch she had come to liberate from the darkness inside of her. It had taken most of her strength that day, when she'd finally convinced her to let her help. Now she knew that it had been her power faltering. What should have been simple, was difficult. It was why she'd slept so long in the cave afterwards. But, she wouldn't change it for anything. After all, it was her duty to save the witch.

  Zac… his blood had woken the parts of her that had faded.

  Aya, shook her head to clear her thoughts. Violet had hoped she would come back and if she did, the witch wanted her to remember that she had a heart. Damn, witches. Violet's darkness had been potent and she knew that Gabby was prone to that same condition being a Cohen, but she had a strong network of friends around her. Sophia, Liz, Alex, the brothers. And she would keep an eye on her as long as she could. She would remember her heart.

  Gabby was special. She was even more powerful than Violet had been and she was in a league of her own, even back then. Aya knew that if she didn't do anything, the same fate awaited her. Arturius would awaken her the dark powers inside of her and use it to his advantage and it would destroy them all. Gabby wouldn't survive very long if he succeeded. If she succumbed… then she would do what she had to.

  Looking up at Sophia, Aya said, "I will get your granddaughter back. Even if it's the last thing I do."

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gabby guessed it had been maybe two or three d
ays since Arturius had taken her, but they had begun to blur together. It could even be four by now. And since she'd been here, she'd been tied to a chair in a room that had been converted into a study. One wall was lined with a bookshelf crammed with books and novels, a desk littered with papers against another wall and a sofa and a coffee table in the center of the room. The windows were closed tight, heavy drapes blocking out the sunlight, so it was hard to tell what time of day it was.

  For at least two of those days a witch by the name of Rhian had been coming to speak to her. She was perhaps in her late twenties or early thirties, wild curly hair and feline eyes, her face dusted with a healthy dose of freckles. She said she was of Katrin's line and Gabby could definitely see it. Rhian was so much like the founding witch, even her magic had the same coppery tang.

  "You're very powerful, Gabrielle," Rhian said, "and you don't even know how to tap into it without hurting yourself or others."

  "And that's the only reason you're here?" Gabby didn't really believe her.

  "I'm here to help you control it."

  "You mean control the darkness and use it for evil?" she said, the sarcasm dripping from her words.

  Rhian laughed, "Arturius said you were feisty."

  "Feisty has nothing on me." It was meant as a warning, but the witch only smiled at her.

  "You're one of the most powerful witches I have ever met. Your potential is endless."

  "How would you know?"

  "You're powerful because you come from the ether. Any time is a good time for you. The center of all things."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Arturius said your education was lacking, but I'm surprised."

  "Why?"

  "This is the basic fundamentals of witchcraft, Gabrielle. Every witch has a elemental affinity."

  "And you said I'm of the ether? You mean the spirit world?"

  "Yes," she said. "You're descended from Ismena. Her power comes from the other side. From the thing that lives in us all. Your power encompasses life and death."