Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 1

Chapter One

"What do you mean, who am I?" Staring in disbelief at the face of my nineteen-year-old husband, I attempted to comprehend. His demon looking eyes glowed red as his hard expression moved over me.

"Who are you?" Vance asked again, his grip on my arms growing painful.

"I'm your wife!" I exclaimed, attempting to remove myself from his tightening grasp.

"You're . . . what?" A puzzled look flashed across his face, and he released me. Taking a step backward, he moved out of the moonlight and into the shadows behind him. Only his mistrustful crimson eyes remained visible.

"Vance, what's going on?" I asked, gesturing between him and the grave he stood next to—one that he'd recently occupied.

He looked at me hesitantly. "Vance? Is that my name?" His voice was quiet in the darkness.

Heart pounding loudly at his reply, I stared at him. Was he joking? He didn't know his own name? "You honestly don't remember anything?" I moved into the shadow next to him trying to see him better. "What's the last memory you have?" I added, trepidation shooting through me.

The silence was deafening before he answered. "I woke up and it was dark, and I felt like I couldn't breathe because the air was so thin. Feeling around, I realized I was in a casket and needed to get out. I pushed hard up against the lid, but it didn't budge." He paused and lifted his hands staring at them, his face growing reflective. "It seems weird now . . . somehow I managed to heat up the surface and it melted the whole top. Dirt started falling in on me and I thought I was going to suffocate. I started clawing my way through it, until I reached the top and was able to climb out. Then I saw you." His gaze returned to me.

"So you don't remember anything about your life prior to your death?" My knees trembled beneath me and it felt like it took all my strength to just remain standing.

Eyes never leaving me, he slowly shook his head. "I was dead? You're sure?" he asked in low tones as if he was afraid to believe it. I could only manage a nod, and he swallowed hard, staring at the grave he'd been in. "It doesn't make sense." He glanced around. "I mean, I know how to speak and what things are. I just don't know . . . who I am."

Mind racing, I tried to think of a reasonable explanation for what was going on. It was obvious something unique was happening here. Off the top of my head, I assumed the Awakening was responsible. It must have reversed his death—taking a long time to work since he'd been nearly dead when he had received it.

He doesn't remember me. The thought raced through and pierced me to the soul.

"Do you think you can trust me?" I asked, my calm tone belying the frantic feelings coursing inside of me. "I know some things about you which might help you out."

Glancing briefly around the cemetery, his eyes darted back to me. "Well, you're the only one here, so I suppose I can give you a shot."

I placed a hand on my chest, and wondered if he noticed it trembling. "My name is Portia Mangum." I paused, hoping the name might jog his memory, but there was no reaction signaling recognition. "Yours is Vance Mangum. The two of us were married about seven months ago," I added, feeling as though my heart was caught in a vise that was getting tighter by the second.

"You seem awfully young for that," he replied, the skepticism showing on his face.

"I am," I answered honestly. "I'll be seventeen next month."