Arriving back at Blake and Xavier's manor you could feel the tension rippling throughout the air. Walking to the study rather quickly, my thoughts are swirling in my mind. That ritual has a specific impact. The utter brutality in those murders, those sacrifices, and the savagery of it was brutal. And that red witch knew, she knew what she was doing, what she was denying those other witches and warlocks by allowing them to be sacrificed like that. She liked what she was doing. She was going to be a problem; she's skilled and powerful. But not naturally. No, she had help in building up her power, I just had to figure out what she was doing. Blake and Xavier might know something.
Grabbing the bottle of bourbon I don't bother with a glass, drinking it straight from the bottle. The brown liquid flows down my throat, a burning sensation soon following, a burn that I have become accustomed to. My hands start to shake but I just keep drinking. Those poor witches and warlocks, most of them didn't even know what they were being sacrificed for. But the ones that did, like that first woman, they fought; they tried to give us the upper hand so we would know what was happening.
Oh shit! I'm going to have to go back to the coven, and the council. With that thought in mind I drink from the bottle again. Without warning someone snatches it out of my hand. Turning my glare towards Xavier he has one of his own set on me, "That's my bourbon."
Swiftly taking it back and moving away from him I mutter, "I fucking need it more than you do so fuck off." Then I swallow down a few mouthfuls all the while looking him right in the eye. The arrogant, pig-headed, stubborn, sexy, bastard. Eyes blazing he goes to follow me only to slam into a hard wall preventing him from coming near me. Smiling sweetly at him I finish the bottle and go routing for more.
"If I was an arrogant ass where would I hide my hard alcohol?" I mutter under my breath knowing everyone could hear me. Searching through the drawers I come up empty, pulling the chair from the desk and sitting in it I run my hand against the inside of the desk humming happily when I find a hidden switch that when pressed opens a hidden drawer inside the desk. Grabbing another bottle of bourbon I close everything up the way I found it. Using a glass this time I throw back two glasses and look back towards my companions. Maybe "companions" isn't the right word but it's what I'm going with at the moment.
"So here's the thing; your little witchy friend just ritually sacrificed thirteen witches and warlocks, took their powers and their life force, stole some power from a sacred witch place, oh and started the process of bringing someone back from the dead. Yeah that about sums it up," I angrily comment.
Blank stares is all I get in return. So I do what any other sane person would do and knock back another couple glasses of bourbon. When the words finally register in Jaxs' brain he started cussing loudly.
"You're going to have to elaborate sweetheart," a dark sensuous voice reaches parts of me long forgotten and momentarily I'm confused about my reaction before Blakes words reach my brain. Dryly stating, "You're all going to want to sit down," I drop the hard wall between us. Before I can grab the bottle, Xavier is there taking it off me and taking the seat directly in front of me.
Huh looks like he has problems sharing then. I observe him quietly while everyone sits. His brown curls fall in front of his face slightly, his hard eyes still glaring at me, a strong straight nose leading down to his luscious lips, a sharp jaw-line and thick tanned neck, broad shoulders perfect for grapping a hold of and digging your nails in, thick muscular arms leading to strong hands that could do amazing things if given the chance, his broad chest and completely ripped body is shown through his tight black t-shirt. Shaking my head I get back on track.
"When a witch or a warlock dies, their essence, their power flows back to the earth. Because nature gives to us, in death we give back to nature. It's a cycle. There are some places that have an extreme amount of power within them, mostly sacred places or places that an abundance of immortals have died terrible deaths in. The stones in Salem are sacred and hold more power than even the majority of other sacred places because it protects a doorway. We witches call this place Caelestis. A doorway can open up to anywhere: hell, other worlds, purgatory, you could cross over to Japan using the god damned doorway. But it takes a lot of power and energy to use it and use it correctly. That little ritual your witchy friend did is the start to opening the doorway. She prevented those witches and warlocks from giving back to nature, she stole their power and life force, which mean that those magic wielders will never get peace, and they will be lost souls for eternity. The ritual is very specific and she followed it to a tee.
She will channel their power while completing the ritual, but she will also need a living vessel, a piece of whomever she's trying to bring back to life, and another to sacrifice. Another sacrifice will be in exchange for her, so she doesn't die while trying to bring the other person back. The vessel is for the dead to feed off. It's a complicated spell, and not many have the power to do it. Not to mention it is extremely dangerous. The witch will have to gather her strength before she can do it, she also needs to wait for the next full moon. She'll pull power from it. But before all that there needs to be two more mass sacrifices.
From what I can remember the next mass sacrifice has to be of the same make of whomever they want to bring through the doorway. There's no way of telling who it's going to be unless you know who she's bringing back."
Taking a deep breath I sit back in my seat thinking over everything. I can feel all the eyes on me but I can't bring myself to say it out loud. It hits a little too close to home for me to casually toss it out like I did with the other information. This ritual is brutal and harsh. And the thought that that red witch is willingly doing this, that she is happy to do this, makes me increasingly more furious. Traitorous whore.
"What's the last sacrifice?" Xaviers growl is a lot softer than anything else he's ever said in my presence. The know this isn't easy for me but none of the know just how hard this is. Except for Jax.
Looking to Xavier I meet his eyes, a clash of burning blue and smouldering gold. Swallowing once, twice, before I answer, my quiet voice is heard in the silent room.
"Thirteen witchlings all under the age of thirteen, all from the same coven. Exodius."
YOU ARE READING
The Enchantress
FantasyKali thought she had left her old life behind her. She thought she would never have to go back. But when an old friend calls asking for help, will she be able to refuse. With an undeniable pull towards her hometown and an unmistakable connection t...
