Blood of the White Witch (7 page)

He placed a gentle kiss against my hair.

“How long have the two of you been married?”
Brian asked, watching us through the rearview mirror.

“Four days,” Vance answered with a smile and
looked down at me. I was amazed at the fascinating way his face
suddenly transformed from worry to a look of complete rapture.

“Wow! Newlyweds! That must be exciting. So
are you here on your honeymoon?” Brian continued.

“Yes, we are,” Vance replied without taking
his gaze away from me. “We figured we could come enjoy the beauty
of Scotland and see if we could look up some of my family while we
were here. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting things to be this
easy, though.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help out,” Brian
said with a grin.

We drove on for several more miles before we
finally turned off the main road to drive down a well-maintained
private driveway.

The narrow, tree-lined road continued
probably another quarter of a mile into the property before it
widened out into a circle drive that ended up in front of a very
large manor house.

I stared out the window, up at the beautiful
architecture. It was two stories tall with many high-pitched peaks
in the roof. Small wrought iron crosses decorated the tips of each
point in the structure.

There were leaded glass panes in all of the
windows, and several wide stone steps led up from the driveway to
the massive wooden doors that graced the entrance.

Vance opened the car door, lifting his head
up to eye the imposing dwelling with a curious look before stepping
out, then turning to offer me a hand out of the vehicle.

Brian joined us, leading the way up the
steps to the door, knocking boldly with a metal knocker that hung
from the heavy wood.

We waited for a few moments before the door
swung slowly open to reveal a somber looking man in uniform.

The gentleman was quite tall and thin, with
dark hair that was slicked backward. He had a narrow gaunt face,
with a slightly hooked patrician nose. He looked down that nose at
us slightly as if we were less than equal to him.

“May I help you?” he asked in a quiet, yet
no-nonsense, baritone voice which clearly signified he wasn’t to be
trifled with.

“Good morning,” Brian said with a smile as
if nothing here seemed amiss to him. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Mangum,
here to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Cummings this morning. I believe
they’re expecting them.”

The man, whom I aptly assumed was the
butler, looked us over carefully before giving a nod of his head
and stepping to the side to allow us to enter into the small
vestibule just inside.

“Welcome to Bell Tower. May I take your
coats?” he offered in a measured voice, and we shrugged out of them
and draped them over his arm. “Wait here, please,” he added and
disappeared into the house.

Vance held my hand tightly, and I could tell
he was a bit nervous about this by the firm set of his mouth.

We waited together in silence for the butler
to announce us. He returned a short time later.

“Madame requested to greet you in the Grand
Salon,” he said looking mainly at Vance. “This way, please.”

We followed him out of the entrance and into
a large foyer complete with a sweeping marble staircase that led up
to the second floor. A large crystal chandelier dangled above,
filling the cavernous space overhead.

We turned into a large hallway with
beautifully sculpted ceilings. My eyes drifted curiously over the
amazing artwork on the walls, along with mirrors and moldings that
perfectly framed the accent furniture that lined the walls.

We turned left and were led through a door
into an equally impressive room, with meticulously maintained
antique furniture grouped around a large stone fireplace that was
crackling brightly.

“Mr. and Mrs. Vance Mangum,” the butler said
from the entrance as he ushered us farther into the room.

A tall distinguished looking man with silver
hair stood and offered his hand to a petite woman whose dark hair
had many gray streaks running through it. Both of their faces had a
hard-looking edge to them, as if life might have been harsh for
them to endure somehow.

They were dressed in light morning attire,
the man in a cream-colored suit, and the woman in a smartly
tailored dress of the same shade.

I suddenly felt completely underdressed for
such an occasion as Vance and I had dressed for the cold, both of
us wearing jeans and t-shirts covered by pullover sweaters, and
sneakers.

The couple paused for a second, taking us
in.

“Vance?” the woman, Fiona, spoke in a
whisper, as her hand slid up over her chest resting against her
heart.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered politely as he
watched her, his face completely devoid of any emotion.

She opened her arms then and hurried over to
him, grabbing him with both arms around the shoulders, hugging him
down to her small frame.

“We’re so glad to meet you,” she said with a
smile, before reaching up to place a kiss on either side of his
face.

“Welcome to our home, son,” the man,
Douglas, spoke as he joined us, standing near Vance’s side.

I could feel the heady yearning that rushed
through Vance in that moment … hope. It sprung up in his chest
though he tried immediately to tamp it back down.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied offering a hand
in greeting, and a very small hint of a smile appeared on his
face.

Douglas shook his hand warmly, covering
Vance’s hand affectionately with both of his.

“This is my wife, Portia,” Vance said and
slipped one of his arms around my waist, pulling me up next to
him.

“Welcome, dear,” Douglas added looking at
me.

“Thank you for having us,” I replied, not
really knowing what the proper etiquette was for meeting a spouse’s
long-lost family.

“Where are our manners?” Fiona said as she
reached up to pat her perfectly coiffed hairdo. “Do come in and sit
down.”

We followed them over to the sofa in front
of the roaring fire and sat down across from them.

“I couldn’t believe it when Brian called and
said you were looking for us,” Fiona said, and she reached over to
pat Brian affectionately on the knee. “We were so happy to hear
that you were here.”

“Well, we were coming here for our honeymoon
and thought maybe we could try to look up some relatives while we
were here,” Vance said, offering a partially truthful explanation,
though leaving some of the most pertinent information conveniently
out of the conversation, such as why we chose to come to Scotland
in the first place.

“We’re so glad you did. We haven’t known
where you were since you were born,” Fiona replied, with a sad
shake of her head. “I’m afraid that we had a bad falling out with
your father. He was doing some things that we didn’t approve of. As
punishment for our disapproval he took you and your mom away. We
never heard from him again.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Vance said, as he
squeezed my hand slightly, working his thumb in circles over my
skin.

“Are you still in touch with him?” Douglas
asked, clearly searching out some news of his wayward son.

Vance nodded his head.

“I have seen him … recently,” he added, and
I could tell he was loathe to volunteer more information than he
felt he needed to.

“How’s he doing?” Fiona asked, leaning
forward, pressing the issue directly to the place Vance had been
trying to avoid.

“Not well, I’m afraid,” Vance hedged before
continuing. “He, uh … passed away about a week ago.”

“What? No!” Fiona raised her hands to cover
her mouth in horror, and her husband wrapped his arms around
her.

I could feel the turmoil in Vance as he
wrestled with the direction the conversation had taken.

“What happened?” Douglas asked with a
stricken look upon his face as he tried to comfort a clearly
distraught Fiona.

Vance sighed heavily as he reached up to rub
at his temple with one hand, closing his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them again he looked straight
at them, and I knew he had chosen to take the direct route.

“You should know that Damien was a very bad
man,” he began as he looked back and forth between the two of them.
“My mother ran away from him and took me with her. I hadn’t seen
him for years, being on the run, trying to stay away from him. As
it happened, he found us and kidnapped Portia, threatening to kill
her if I didn’t do what he wanted. I found Portia and tried to help
her escape, but we didn’t get away in time. My dad and I fought
each other and,” he paused before plunging ahead, “I killed him in
the heat of that argument.”

He sat back then, waiting for them to absorb
the things he had told them, watching them carefully.

They sat for several shocked seconds just
looking at him, perhaps with both a little fear and awe mixed on
their faces as Fiona slowly lifted her hand to cover her gaping
mouth.

I thought I could see tears glistening in
their eyes as they stared at Vance.

“He did it to save me,” I popped up trying
to ease the situation, not wanting him to lose the love of his
newly found family so quickly.

Their eyes turned to me, and Douglas
released his breath.

“No doubt,” Douglas replied then, waving his
hand in dismissal. “Forgive us please for our rudeness, but he was
our son, and we’d hoped he had changed.”

“No,” Vance said quietly. “It’s me who
should be asking for your forgiveness. It’s a horrible thing to
drop on you unexpectedly.”

“There’s never an easy way to break news
like this,” Douglas replied. “I’m sorry for everything the two of
you have had to go through at his hand. He wasn’t always this way,
you know.”

I couldn’t imagine Damien any other way
personally, but I tried to appear caring over their situation even
though I couldn’t have been happier that Damien was dead.

“He was always very driven,” Douglas
continued. “He pursued his education relentlessly, building on his
successes, learning from his failures. He was always so positive.
He eventually became the leader of his own coven. We were very
proud of him and his accomplishments. But then something changed.
He became consumed with studying all aspects of magic, often trying
things out just see what he could do or discover. He was always
pushing the limits, going past the boundaries of propriety as he
tried to build his magical powers. It got to the point that we
confronted him on it, calling him out so to speak. But he wouldn’t
listen to reason. Instead he turned on us, and we never heard from
him again. Your mother was pregnant with you the last time we heard
from him.”

Douglas cast his eyes down toward his lap,
and Fiona reached out to briefly grasp his hand.

“It’s obvious then that you’re magical
also,” Fiona said and she placed her hand back into her lap,
twisting it with the other which rested there. “Otherwise you
would’ve never been able to defeat him. He was a very powerful
warlock.”

Vance gave a slight nod of his head,
acknowledging that they were correct in that assumption.

“Is your mother with you then?” Douglas
asked.

“No,” Vance replied with a shake of his
head. “I’d received a tip from one of Damien’s previous staff
members that she might actually be here.”

“Here? At Bell Tower?” Fiona asked with a
puzzled look.

“That was what the woman said.”

“What would’ve possessed her to say
something as ridiculous as that? We haven’t seen Krista since
before you were born,” Fiona stated flatly.

I felt the heavy disappointment sweep over
Vance at this news.

“Darcy was afraid that you were going to
kill her. She probably lied so she could get away,” I said softly
to Vance, wishing I could help ease his disappointment somehow.

He just nodded his head and clenched his
jaw, and I could see that he was working to get his emotions in
check.

“This staff member was a demon witch
perhaps?” Douglas asked.

Vance nodded his head.

“Enough of this talk,” Fiona said, standing
suddenly. “It’s clear that the boy is completely distraught.”

She came to sit by Vance’s side, placing her
hand lightly against his forearm, patting him in a motherly
fashion.

“Would the two of you be willing to honor us
by coming to spend the rest of your vacation here with us? We have
a lovely suite on the second floor which overlooks the grounds. I’m
certain you’d just adore it. It would mean so much to us to have
you here with us.”

Vance looked over at me with question in his
eyes.

I nodded my head slightly.

“It’s fine with me,” I whispered.

He paused for another moment before he
turned back to Fiona.

“We’d be happy to. Thank you for your
hospitality,” he said with a small smile, even though his heart was
breaking.

Brian hopped up then.

“Why don’t the two of you just stay here,
and I’ll see to it that your things are transferred from Inverlochy
Castle,” he offered.

“What a wonderful idea!” Fiona said,
brightening at the thought. “Then the two of you can join us for
lunch.”

Vance agreed to let Brian help us out, and
Douglas led him to a telephone so he could call the concierge at
the Castle to let them know we would be sending someone to check us
out early.

Fiona slid closer to me then, while Douglas
continued to visit with Vance and Brian.

“I’m so excited that you’re staying, dear.
It’ll be such fun!” She smiled happily at me.

I smiled back at her.

“You’ve been very kind to offer us such nice
accommodations,” I replied sincerely.

She reached out and patted my hand, changing
the subject completely then, catching me a little off guard.

“If you wouldn’t think it too rude, may I
ask how old you are? You seem so young,” she said her eyes boring
into mine.