Prophecy: Caelestis & Aurorea (2 page)

“Where is Elena?” Prophecy said and pushed past the girl. She looked around the large entryway and then up at the door at the apex of the stairs. She could sense power up there. Her eyes dropped to rest on the maid. “Take me to her.”

The maid curtseyed and led the way up the stairs. Prophecy kept her focus on the power she could feel and then reached out with her senses and searched the vicinity for a vampire signature other than hers and Venturi’s. There was nothing. Maybe she had been wrong about Elena being involved, but she could see something terrible had happened in the house. Some of the marble tiles were fractured, as though something had impacted against them, and there were splinters of stone and dust coating the mosaic in the centre of the entrance hall below her.

She stopped breathing when she approached the door and the maid left them. Pushing it open, she was ready to fly at Elena but her words fled her lips when she laid eyes on her.

The witch was sitting in the same chair she’d occupied when Prophecy had come to the house with Valentine, only this time she didn’t look as beautiful or perfect. Her milk-white skin was broken and bruised. Her clothes were dirty and ripped. Prophecy inhaled, catching the scent of dried blood.

“Where’s Valentine? I know it was you, Elena. If I didn’t have proof before, your condition gives it to me.” She stopped just short of the witch and kept her expression hard when Elena slowly raised her head, looking through the straggly matted threads of her hair. Prophecy’s fingers twitched with magic and the marks on her skin pulsed with it. She fought to remain calm and not let her feelings take over.

Elena moved a little and looked past her at Venturi, and then sank back into the chair. “I do not know.”

Prophecy barely heard the whispered words. Venturing a step forwards, she flexed her fingers and struggled to hold her power at bay when her emotions got the better of her. She could easily make Elena speak, but there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t go that one step too far and kill her.

“It was your magic that took him!” She couldn’t stop herself from shouting. How could Elena appear so calm after what she had done? How could she sit there and not look the least bit remorseful?

Elena swallowed and sighed. “It was, but I did not wish to use it. I am sorry for what I have done. Truly I am. If I had known then what I know now…”

“What do you know now?” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Venturi move closer to her. It was such a familiar move, exactly the kind of thing that Valentine would have done. It was as though he was silently backing her up, showing Elena that if she didn’t answer, she would have more than just herself to deal with.

“That you’re in love with him, that you need him so much. I can sense it in your magic … it’s in disarray without him. Your feelings govern it.” The witch slowly stood and smoothed down her clothes with idle strokes of her hands. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor, and Prophecy narrowed hers.

Prophecy clenched her fists, struggling for control over the magic and her emotions. Elena was right. With the loss of Valentine, her feelings had become a turbulent sea of anger and discord, and it was affecting her power. If things continued like this, she would have no way of controlling her magic. She feared it would begin to control her.

Closing her eyes when it surged through her, causing her skin to prickle and burn, she took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. It was no use. Every time she tried to calm herself down she ended up thinking about Valentine and the situation got worse.

The threads of magic tickled as they arced along her fingers and she shook her hand, trying to rid it of them.

“I am sorry … I should have been stronger, but…” Elena raised her head.

Prophecy looked at her, seeing for the first time the sorrow in her dark eyes. The sight of it caused her feelings of anger towards the witch to abate and she sighed.

“What did they do to you?” she said, giving Elena a concerned look. “It was Arkalus and Kalinor wasn’t it?”

Elena nodded and wrapped her arms about herself, shivering as she did so. “They … I tried to resist them … they made me weak.”

Prophecy watched the tips of Elena’s fingers as they dug into her upper arms. She was holding herself so tightly and it made Prophecy realise that Arkalus and the lord of Aurorea had done terrible things to her. Stepping forwards, she reached out to draw the hair away from Elena’s neck but the witch jerked away from her.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Prophecy said and brushed Elena’s hair aside to reveal the puncture marks that littered her neck.

They were deep and surrounded by rich purple bruises that seemed to cover every inch of her throat. She dropped her eyes to the floor and stepped away from Elena. Heaving a sigh, Prophecy closed her eyes when sorrow washed through her, extinguishing all of the anger and hatred she’d been feeling. Elena had done her best, but Prophecy knew how brutal Arkalus could be, especially if he wanted something.

“Where did they take him?” She didn’t hold out much hope of Elena knowing. Her blood-brother was clever, and from what Valentine had told her about Kalinor, she knew that he was probably even more intelligent than Arkalus. They would have devised a plan to keep the witch in the dark about their intentions for Valentine.

“I … I do not know.” Elena sank into her chair again, curling up and holding her knees to her chest. She looked like a scared child, nothing like the powerful necromancer Prophecy had met during her last visit. “They had me transport him to St. Mark’s Square. They took him from there before any of my servants could reach it. I wanted them to report back to me. I knew you would come and you would need to know where Valentine was. If I had realised how much you and the power you hold needed him … I would have let them kill me.”

“Don’t talk so. I will find him and I will learn to govern my power.”

“It is not your power.”

Prophecy frowned at the note of spite in Elena’s voice. Drawing herself up, she looked down at the witch.

“It is my power to command.” She saw Elena’s eyes drop to her hand when she flexed her fingers. “You know where it comes from. I have seen this same star as a scar upon your hand. You have met my mother, haven’t you?”

Elena lowered her head. “She was a powerful witch. I thought she had died many moons ago and now I know she had. To give you this gift, she would have sacrificed herself and cursed herself to an eternity wandering the earth, unable to rest. Her power should have gone to the grave with her, giving her a chance at a good afterlife.”

“She gave this to me so I could fulfil my destiny and she lives on in my heart. She’s no wandering spirit and she isn’t cursed. I have seen her. She is at peace.” Prophecy ran the tips of her fingers over the stone of her amulet and it glowed white. Looking back at Elena, she frowned when she saw she was again staring at her hand. “Why did they take Valentine?”

“I told you I do not know anything about their plan. I was just a small part of it. I was only told to bring him to the square.”

“Why didn’t they take me?” Prophecy cursed the tears that rose up on saying those words. All throughout her journey to Venice she’d been plagued by that question. It haunted her, stealing her sleep during the day and pushing her to the edge. Her fatigue caught up with her. She hadn’t slept since the castle. Each passing minute drained a little more energy from her and made her feel one step closer to breaking down under the pressure of everything. She swallowed hard and her eyelids drooped. They felt as heavy as her heart, but sleep wouldn’t come.

A strong hand caught hold of her arm and her eyes slowly moved to it. After everything she’d done, Venturi had come with her and was now supporting her. He seemed to be able to sense her tiredness. Raising her eyes to his, she saw the concern in them and wondered if the reason he had come with her was purely because he’d pledged his allegiance to her, or whether there was something else at work.

“Who is this you have brought with you?” Elena’s voice broke into her thoughts and Prophecy looked around at her.

“He is Venturi and he is now the lord of his bloodline thanks to you.”

“Me?” Elena looked stunned and ran her eyes over him. “He seems like another loyal dog. You do have a power over them, don’t you? But do they have power over you in return? Valentine seems to.”

Removing Venturi’s hand from her arm, Prophecy straightened up and forced the tiredness from her body. She couldn’t trust Elena or appear weak in front of her. Even though Elena’s power had been diminished by Arkalus and Kalinor stealing her blood, it would be foolish of her to presume that Elena would always remain that way. Prophecy had to stay strong and show Elena that she was a force to be reckoned with.

“It was your words that sent me to Romania, even against Valentine’s better instincts. I should have trusted him over you.”

“But you had a vision—”

She didn’t let Elena finish her sentence. “I did have a vision and I don’t know how you knew about it, but your interpretation was wrong. The lord of Tenebrae was going to offer his assistance to me, not destroy me.”

“I too had a vision and believed it was the same as you had,” Elena said.

Prophecy tilted her head back and looked down at her. “I find it strange that it was you who sent me there and it was you who took Valentine.”

“But the marks … can’t you see that I’m telling you the truth?” Elena swept her hair aside in one frantic motion and then extended her arms.

Prophecy stared at the marks that littered them, slicing through the pale skin and staining it red with dried blood.

“I was the only one powerful enough to create that portal and they were aware that I knew of your location … that is all. You must believe me!” Elena dropped to her knees and looked up at her.

Prophecy frowned, her eyes narrowing on the witch in front of her. Elena had fallen and was far from the person she had previously met, but there was still something about her that made her feel she couldn’t be trusted.

“You are not the only one powerful enough to create that portal.” Raising her hand, Prophecy clenched her jaw and watched the magic spiralling around her fingers. “You breathe one word that I was here or about what we spoke of, and I will show you the true extent of my power.”

Turning on her heel, she ignored Elena’s feeble cries and headed straight for the door. Walking down the steps and across the hall, she renewed the vow she’d made at the castle.

She would save Valentine.

When she found him, she was going to make sure she had her vengeance.

Arkalus and Kalinor were going to pay with their lives.

Prophecy didn’t look back as the portal from Elena’s hidden world disappeared. She kept her eyes forwards, her mind racing a mile a minute to think of a plan. She knew who had taken Valentine, but she had no clue as to their whereabouts. Arkalus and Kalinor weren’t fools. They wouldn’t keep Valentine hidden anywhere near Prague.

They had to have taken him somewhere she didn’t know of.

As the Chosen Daughter of her bloodline, she knew of all the safe-houses and mansions her family kept. They were spread across the world, each major city having one and some more remote regions housing places where her kin could hide if they needed to.

It would take too long to search them all, and without Valentine, she had no way of travelling by plane. Her only method of transport was the trains now. The journey to Venice from Romania had seen her and Venturi having to hide at each border crossing so they weren’t caught without a passport. She wished that Venturi shared Valentine’s ability to alter perception, but he didn’t seem to have any special skills like that.

She glanced across at him as he kept step beside her. His old world clothes had been replaced by the long black jacket and trousers he’d been wearing before. His eyes were fixed intently on the bridge just ahead of them. He looked so different to Valentine. There was nothing regal about his features. They had Italian beauty, but weren’t noble. His brows were fine, his lips full and his nose straight. He reminded her of a gladiator she’d seen in a television program. Sometimes though, there was something in his blue eyes that made her realise that there was darkness inside of him just as his bloodline’s name said. He had a wicked streak and she was sure it was going to come out one day. She believed that Valentine would take pleasure in killing, but this man had a look about him that said he would revel in it.

When his eyes moved to rest on her, she looked away and sighed.

“Where now?” Venturi’s voice echoed along the quiet alley.

She frowned thoughtfully and then stared at the bag he was carrying. When they’d left the castle, she’d made him stop by the inn so they could pick up hers and Valentine’s belongings. She patted her pocket and ran her fingers along the outline of the tube that contained the first part of the scroll.

There was only one place they could go.

“Mathias.”

Venturi raised a brow and she remembered that he didn’t have a clue who she was talking about.

“He’s a friend of Valentine’s. He helped us before and promised to translate the scrolls if we brought them back to him. We have the first half of it, but are yet to find the second. If I take him the scroll and tell him about Valentine going missing, he may be able to point me in the right direction.”

“And where is this … Mathias?” Venturi said, his eyes falling to rest on her hand where it still rested over the scroll case in her pocket.

“England. It’s going to be hard to get there without passports, but we have to try. From there I will be able to contact Mia and Dmitri again and see if they’ve learnt anything about Valentine.” Leading the way over the bridge, she tried to remember how to get to the train station. If she could find the Rialto Bridge then she would know roughly where she was going. She went to turn and go down the steps on one side of the bridge but Venturi stopped her.

“It is quicker to go through Piazza San Marco,” he said and tugged her arm, leading her down the other side.