Prophecy: Caelestis & Aurorea (7 page)

The scene spun around her and she gasped when she was suddenly at the foot of the hill she’d been staring at. She held her hands out by her side, trying to steady herself and stop the world from spinning. Her head throbbed with pain.

A female voice muttered words that she couldn’t quite make out and she felt drawn to the church at the top of the slope. She started towards the stairs that were in front of her and then paused when she finally noticed the building that covered the hillside. Its pale stone was a stark contrast against the darkening sky. The turrets and arches made it look like part of a fairytale castle rather than something she would see in the real world. She ran her eyes along the length of it, from the keep at one end, past the wide stone steps that climbed the hill, to the long turreted building on her left. Directly in front of her, she could see the imposing church, its tiled roof reflecting what little light there was.

Something caught on the edge of her senses and she focused her attention on it. Her eyes remained fixed on the church, but she no longer saw it. All she could see was a blur and all she could feel were the signatures of those approaching her.

She turned at the same time as the woman’s voice got louder and clearer. The words the woman uttered were in a language Prophecy didn’t recognise. Power surged through her. She grasped her wrist, holding her hand steady and bringing it up.

Splaying her fingers, she set her jaw tight and knit her brows. She stared at the group of vampires in front of her. The leader stepped forwards and slid into vampire guise, revealing fiery orange eyes to her.

“Nocens,” she said, more to herself than to them.

She could feel the magic weaving its way around her hand and waited for them to approach her.

The man placed one foot down in front of him and the world spun again. She fell to her knees and grasped the tiles beneath her while her head continued to spin and ache. Thunder boomed out overhead and she flinched away from it, expecting rain to fall on her. She was surprised when it didn’t and raised her head long enough to see that she was now inside the church.

She pushed herself up and frowned when pain lanced through her. Pressing her hand into her side, she brought it away and stared at the blood coating it. Whatever had happened that the vision hadn’t shown her, she had been hurt. She swallowed hard and pressed her amulet to it. Focusing, she breathed deeply and willed the magic to come and heal her. She smiled when her flesh knitted back together and then leaned heavily against one of the wooden pews.

Taking in her surroundings, she tried to clear the fuzziness from her head and avoided looking at the large cross that stood behind the altar. She could never understand how Valentine could look at them without flinching.

She stepped out into the aisle and wondered where she was supposed to go now. Inside the church was silent. The only sound was the distant thunder outside and the heavy raindrops on the roof. She could only see a few feet without changing into vampire guise. None of the candles had been lit but the bright flashes of lightning outside helped illuminate her path towards the altar.

She stopped just before she reached it and closed her eyes. She felt drawn towards something but couldn’t make out where it was. Turning slowly on the spot, she waited until the pull inside of her was strongest and then opened her eyes and started walking in that direction. She paused when she found a door and opened it. Peering down into the dark depths, she could see a flickering light near the bottom of the spiral staircase. She followed it down, going around in a tight circle and gripping the central column so she didn’t fall if she stumbled.

The steps reminded her of her family’s mansion in Prague and she thought about the fact that Valentine had carried her down those steps. It must have been difficult. Maybe he’d slung her over his shoulder. She smiled at the image of that and then shook her head. She was sure that he’d probably carried her carefully in his arms, cradling her. He was so gentlemanly like that.

Venturi would have just flung her over his shoulder.

She frowned and pushed him out of her thoughts.

Reaching the bottom step, she walked out into the dimly lit crypt and searched the room, trying to find what had drawn her down there. At the end of the room was another door. It was metal and locked with several heavy bolts and padlocks. She wondered what it contained. Whatever it was, it was calling to her and she couldn’t ignore it.

Her feet moved of their own volition, leading her towards the door. She raised her hand up and called the magic. It came quickly and she smiled at her progress. Valentine would have been proud of her.

When she released the magic, she ducked behind the nearest tomb. The sound of metal ripping open filled her ears, reminding her of the dying screams of the vampires she’d slain in the Tenebrae castle. She shut out the memory and looked over the top of the stone sarcophagus.

The door was completely torn to shreds and hanging off its hinges. She approached it slowly, peering into the darkness on the other side and feeling the pull inside of her growing stronger the closer that she got.

Looking around, she spotted an unlit torch on the wall and grabbed it. She walked over to the other lit torches and set it alight before carrying it with her into the room.

It was empty except for a stone box with a heavy looking lid. The walls were encrusted with dust and dirt and she got the impression that no one came in there. She placed the torch into one of the iron holders on the wall and then looked back at the box.

Holding her hand a few inches away from it, she could feel the power radiating off it. She stared at the stone in her amulet when it began to glow brightly and her stars began to itch and burn.

“Don’t be scared.”

She smiled on hearing her mother’s voice and took a deep breath. “I’m not scared.”

Grabbing hold of the lid, she slid it off. It tumbled to the floor. She cocked her head to one side when she saw the piece of cloth covering something inside and bent over to pick it up. It was thick and felt heavy in her hands. She could feel power in it and it felt familiar. Carrying it with her back into the other room, she placed it down on the tomb she’d hidden behind when blowing up the door.

She was about to open the cloth to reveal the contents when the whole scene shifted and she found herself face to face with the three witches of Paris.

She looked around her at the familiar icy room and then back at them.

They were speaking but she couldn’t hear them and she held her hand out as they began to fade. She tried to move but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. She felt bound, stuck to the floor. Her hands flew out at her sides and she struggled against the invisible bonds that were holding her fast. The darkness encroached, surrounding her, and the cold swept in again, numbing her body and making her drowsy. Closing her eyes, she struggled against the overwhelming pain that filled her but it kept growing and growing until she felt ready to pass out.

Venturi leapt backwards when Prophecy shot into a sitting position, the needle still protruding from her neck. He went to remove it but she backed away from him, her eyes wide and full of fear. Holding his hands up, he waited for her to realise it was him and calm down, and then reached out towards her.

He carefully pulled the needle from her neck and placed it back in the box. He hadn’t needed to watch her closely for a sign of panic. It hadn’t been small or fleeting when it had come. She’d cried out in pain as though someone had run her through with a sword and had convulsed off the bed, throwing the covers aside and struggling against something. It had taken all of his strength to contain her enough to get the syringe into her neck and revive her.

He watched her breathing heavily and holding her neck. Her eyes were closed and she was trembling. Taking hold of the blanket, he wrapped it around her shoulders and covered her. She grabbed the edges of the blanket and huddled into it.

“Are you cold?” he asked and she looked at him with eyes that still betrayed how scared she had been.

Her pupils were dilated, making her dark brown irises even blacker, and her eyes were wide, showing white all around them. He sat down on the bed beside her and toyed with the corner of the blanket, giving his hands something to do so he didn’t reach out to comfort her. He would only frighten her more and she didn’t look as though she could take it.

“What did you see?” he said, trying to get her to speak. She just stared at him.

He wanted her to speak and allay his fears.

“Prophecy?” he whispered her name and her eyes grew wider.

“Valentine,” she said and he leaned back, placing distance between them.

His brows met, his eyes growing dark as he glared at her. He couldn’t believe that she’d uttered the Aurorea’s name in response to him. Could she even see it was him and not her precious hunter that was with her?

He went to move but she caught hold of his arm, her grip so tight that he couldn’t have left her even if he’d really wanted to. He looked down at her hand and then up into her eyes. She’d come out of the blanket and was kneeling on the bed, leaning towards him. One hand held half of the covers over her while her other held his arm. He stared at her, resisting the temptation to drop his gaze to her nightdress. She was leaning over so much that he knew he’d be able to see straight down the black satin dress.

“Venturi?” she said and released his hand. He watched her look at herself as though she had only just come back to the world from her sleep and was surprised to find herself kneeling on the bed clutching his arm.

He didn’t know what to say to her. She smiled the slightest amount, the corners of her mouth twitching almost imperceptibly, and gave him a coy look while she pulled the blanket closed around her. He noticed that the fear in her eyes had been replaced with a hint of awkwardness.

Leaving the bed, he returned to the chair he’d occupied while watching her for the eight hours she’d been sleeping.

“Are you all right?” he said and didn’t wait for her to answer him. “I woke you the moment you seemed distressed. What did you see to make you react so violently?”

“Violently?” she asked, confusion evident in her expression and her voice.

“You literally leapt off the bed. I had to fight to pin you down so I could inject you with the antidote.”

“Oh.” She blinked and lowered her gaze to the bed, staring distantly at the sheets. She was quiet for a few seconds and then frowned. “It wasn’t what I saw … I think it was what I felt.”

“You were shivering. Were you cold?” He wondered if she remembered him asking her that when he’d given her the antidote. The way she nodded in a slow, calculated manner said that she didn’t. She hadn’t answered him last time.

“It was dark and there was so much pain. It felt as though someone or something was restraining me. I couldn’t get free and it scared me. It was so cold, Venturi, and I felt so tired.”

“It was probably just the drain of recent events and the drug that was making you feel tired and trapped.”

“No.” She dismissed what he’d said with a shake of her head. “It was real. I know it was. Before my vision, I was in the same dark room and I felt numb, sleepy. After my vision, I returned to that dark place and I swear I felt something familiar, like a presence I should have known or a scent. There was something in it. It wasn’t a part of my vision, but it was something that my heart wanted me to see.”

He eyed her closely and thought about what she’d said. She was clutching her hand to her chest and through her fingers, he could see the glowing stone in her amulet. It was red now. When he’d seen it during the journey it had been purple, sometimes pale and other times dark, but he’d never seen it red. Her eyes dropped to it and she smiled. It had to mean something. The mark over her chest seemed to respond to it. Streaks of red pulsed around the black lines that made up the star and the symbols around it glowed faintly.

“What does it mean?”

“Valentine,” she whispered and held her hand up.

He was lost for words this time. All he could do was watch the red ribbons that were emanating from the stone. They intertwined with each other, looping together and forming the shape of something flat over her palm. It began to get clearer as more threads joined it and he at last realised that it was forming the shape of the symbol over her chest.

Moving over to the bed, he craned his neck to see it and then found he didn’t have to. With a simple twitch of her fingers, she made the symbol move so it was standing on its end. It grew, doubling in size, and shining more brightly.

“I don’t…” he started but trailed off when she held her hand up to silence him.

Looking at her face, he saw how hard she was concentrating. He hadn’t realised that it took her so much effort to conjure up the magic, especially when it was something as simple as making it take on a shape. Was there something special that she was trying to do? Was she attempting to contact Valentine somehow? He wanted to ask her, but knew his question would be met with another gesture to silence him. He decided to risk it.

“What—”

“Silence!” She waved her hand and his eyes widened when his mouth continued to move but no sound came out.

He tried to speak and panicked when he found that he had no voice. Grasping his throat, he blinked in disbelief.

All he could do was watch her while she closed her eyes and made the symbol grow again. It was almost five times the size of the one over her chest now and he still couldn’t see what she was trying to do.

He was stunned when she moved her hand and the magic symbol flattened against her palm.

“Speak to me,” she whispered and her breath seemed to make the magic shift, blowing it slightly and causing it to alter its shape. It flickered and danced, showing no sign of doing what she’d asked and then it moulded itself into a new shape. “Show me he’s all right like you were trying to in my vision.”

It took on the form of a man but remained red. Venturi recognised him as the one he’d met. His arms were strung out at his sides and he could see they were bound, but it was hard to make out any detail when the form remained nothing more than a glowing red shape.