disconnected from the man she loved so much.
Vanora knew Alexander’s voice.
Sheila had never heard it.
Was it petty to feel so much jealousy? Alexander loved her. Vanora loved Armando. But for a brief moment ,she’d seen a connection between the two that had felt like a stake through her heart. They’d shared something she never could with Alexander. It was irrational to feel like she did and she knew it, yet she couldn’t stop feeling as though she’d loss something precious.
“What is she doing?” Tracy slipped through the shadows into the kitchen.
Angel followed in her wake. He was fully healed and glutted on the blood of humans.
How far they had all fallen from Roman’s teachings. It hurt to acknowledge the truth, yet they really had no choice. To fight to survive meant they needed to be strong.
“A ritual,” Sheila answered.
“I know that, but what for?” Tracy was dangerously on edge, but Sheila couldn’t blame her. If Alexander had died instead of Ben, what state would she be in right now?
“To uncover the core of her power.”
“But are we sure she’s a witch?” Tracy looked skeptical. “It’s not like we ever saw her do any magic.”
“Her mother didn’t teach her how to control her powers, but…” Sheila hesitated. Should she tell what Vanora had whispered to her earlier? The vision of the temple, the three women, and bronze box sounded fantastical, but Sheila trusted in Vanora.
“Magic is serious stuff. If something goes wrong…” Angel said worriedly.
“Everything is wrong.” The bitterness in Tracy’s comment was ugly, but not unexpected.
“Aeron wants her and Vanora wants to know why. Her power is the key.” Sheila shoved away from the counter and hugged herself. “Vanora may be our only hope of survival.”
“She’s so young,” Angel said, bowing his head sadly. “So young to deal with so much shit.”
“We’re all dealing with shit.” Tracy leaned her head on Angel’s shoulder. “No one is getting out of this alive.”
The words hung like a beacon of truth in the darkness.
That thought saddened Sheila. She’d lived a long life with Alexander, but she was not ready to let it go.
Alexander entered the room and crossed to the sink to wash dirt off his hands. He’d been helping Vanora set up in the larger bedroom. Drying his hands on his shirt, he pulled Sheila into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. The coldness of his skin was comforting and she leaned into him. Even if she couldn’t hear his voice, she could feel his love. And that was enough.
Vanora could feel the gaze of the vampires on her. Clustered in the doorway nervously watching as she set up her makeshift fire pit, the vampires were silent. Alexander had brought some flagstones in from the backyard to protect the floor and the cast iron Dutch oven was filled with smoldering coals. The windows were open to let out the smoke and the room was very cold. Sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, Vanora huddled in the warmth of her coat.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Sheila asked, her voice slicing through the frigid air.
“No,” Vanora answered. She closed her eyes to check the details in the temple within her mind.
The three women were waiting for her to finish the preparations. The fire pit in the temple glowed fiery red and yellow. Checking on her own facsimile of the temple fire pit, Vanora was satisfied with her progress. The coals were no longer on fire, but suffused with incandescence.
“It’s almost sunrise. Maybe you should wait until tonight so we can protect you,” Tracy suggested.
Tracy and Angel were just behind Sheila and Alexander. Vanora had been surprised to see that Tracy had remained at the house, but with the sun making its appearance within the hour there wasn’t time to escape the city. Hopefully, the four vampires would depart at sunset. Vanora didn’t want to see them fall to Aeron’s army of minions.
“She’ll be
Learning to Kill: Stories