Brewing Them

Chapter 65

Vivian

I could feel the heat pulsating around me, running through my veins and consuming me. My mind was hot, as if set on fire. I shut my eyes tight. The thoughts of my father surfaced, furthering me to tighten my fists. The rattling of him at every minor inconvenience, the roughness of his voice as it echoed around the entire house and the screams of my poor mother as she bore his wrath day and night, for years and years, without a single word.

It wasn't until the night I killed him that she found her freedom.

If it wasn't him, it was going to be her.

One of them were going to die.

My breathing became heavy and I pursed my lips while slipping out from reality. It was only a matter of a few seconds and the entire reality was nothing but a blur.

"What do you seek for?" A voice mumbled in my ears, and it surely didn't belong to Elijah as I recognized his well. "Your father's dead. It is within you to choose the path ahead. To rise above the ashes of your tormented past."

"I'm seeking answers," I admitted, my voice shaking. "It's about the curse. I need to know if there is another way to break it."

The hairs at the nape of my neck lifted as it felt silent. My shoulders rose in a deep breath as I sensed the spirits wavering around me, in a circle. There weren't just a few, they were many of them. I couldn't see their faces clear, but only imagine their voices.

"The curse you speak of has been sealed by a powerful force. By a sacrifice, the curse will break—"

"I don't want a sacrifice." I cut it off.

Cold pressed against my shoulder and chills ran down my spine. "Then, you should see the other way yourself because this magic will need a lot of strength and power. One you still don't have."

My eyes tightened, uncertainty clouding my thoughts. The reality shifted once more and I began seeing cold flashes. I watched closely, taking in the sight of whatever was in front of me.

The blood of four, mixed with mine, and a spell.

Blood magic.

"The coming full moon is strong, harness the energy and break the curse, but before any of that, you must first find the place where the curse began. There, you'll discover the truth of it, truth of the magic buried within all of you." The spirit continued while taking me out of the trance.

My eyes opened wide and my heart beat faster as the realization of what I must do settled in. Blood magic was dangerous and unpredictable, but it seemed like the only alternative to the sacrifice.

I turned to Elijah, who had been silently watching the exchange between me and the spirits. "What did you see?" He questioned, his brows furrowed out of frustration as I had been gone for long.

It felt longer than usual. My skin was ice-cold and there were goosebumps spread all over my skin. The tips of my fingers appeared as if they were frozen, curling them was difficult.

I rose my head and met with his eyes, "We need to find the place where the curse began, and there's a spell, but it requires all our blood to break it."

His face turned into a frown at the minimal information he had gotten. "Where are we supposed to find that?"

"Do you not know where your grandfather bound your soul to death and magic a hundred years ago?"

"I know everything." He stood up from the ground and headed out of the room, appearing a little agitated.

I sat over the ground, with my thoughts and memories and sighed. It had been a while since my father's death—since I killed him, and a part of me was beginning to heal from the torment he put me through. Finally. A smile stretched over my face and I rose up from the ground.

The directions were clear in my head. We needed to find the place of the origin of the spell, then the blood of the cursed men, and using magic, we could break it during the full moon, two weeks later, earlier than we all expected.

Stephan Sven's anniversary was still a good two months ago. We weren't going to be in any danger any time soon, except for the danger we put ourselves into.

"Who's the last one?" I asked, following Elijah outside into the seating room where I found him pouring a drink from himself.

"You don't need to know." He replied, taking a sip from his glass while his entire demeanor changed in a matter of a few seconds.

"Tell me," I persisted. "We'll need the blood of all four of you. Do you know him? The last one?" I was more than curious to know.

He clearly knew who it was. I've heard him talk before, about the last one, to Callan when I first came here. Now that I had proved my loyalty, he could tell me who it was.

Elijah looked at me for a moment, his expression tightened and hesitation in his eyes as if he didn't want to tell me for other reasons. "The last time I heard about him, he had murdered an entire pack near to Gavendel, and it was a few days before I came here. He's a vicious killer, and he's known for his cruelty all over the world. If he catches a glimpse of what's happening here, he's going to wipe the city clean before anyone even knows about it."

"What?" My heart dropped at the sound of it, and I stepped forward. "How do you know all of this?"

Elijah hesitated, his eyes darting away from mine. "I've my sources. People who have been keeping tabs on him for years. And I became aware of his carnage during the time I was here, he only ever displayed violence, since ever I knew him. Nothing else," He took a gulp of his drink and turned his back on me before slamming the glass on the table. "If he comes here, there'll be death everywhere. I rather keep this place as it is."

"But we'll need his blood."

"I'll get it from him somehow, but no one—no one can know he's marked." He continued, a warning setting off in his tone.

I nodded, "I won't tell anyone."

A knock landed on the door and our heads turned. My heart thundered, the sudden noise catching me off guard. Elijah's eyes narrowed, suspicion gleaming in them like the reflection of a full moon on a still lake. He motioned for me to stay quiet as he approached the door himself.

I stayed frozen on my feet, near to the large table with several drinks over it.

It was too early for Dion and Callan to return from meeting the queen, and the day was still bright. Callan could not make his way here under broad day light without getting himself burned.

It was someone else.

The door creaked open like a groaning, ancient tree, revealing a man standing on the other side. A man I had no clue about, but supposedly, Elijah did.

"I warned you to not disturb me until there was something important." He said, knowing him.

The man pulled out something and handed it to him, "This was delivered to the apartment last night. It's from the Queen, I suppose you'd want to read it. She has also left a few messages—"

"I don't need to hear those," Elijah cut him off and stepped back from the door. "Run along. If there's something else, let me know. Otherwise, don't disturb me."

The man nodded, lowered his head and went a few steps back before disappearing. Elijah shut the door with a soft thud, the room now eerily quiet. I stepped forward, my brows furrowed.

"Who was it?"

"One of my people."

He looked down at the envelope he had received, his eyes locked on the royal seal. He debated for a moment, whether to open it or not. Finally, he broke the seal with a flick of his wrist, and unfolded the crisp parchment.

I watched him closely, trying to gauge his reaction as he read.

"What is it?" I asked a moment later.

"An invitation," One his brows rose. "To a masquerade ball."

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