Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series) (13 page)

He inched closer as his eyes locked onto mine, his expression suddenly meaningful. “I was rather under the impression that it was more than that. However, I suppose dating is a good place to start.” He leaned over, kissed me quickly, and then sighed. “As for your other question, I was born in 1880.”

“Wow!” I paused a second. “I have to say, you’re the best looking hundred-and–thirty-year-old I’ve dated.”

Nathan chuckled. “Why don’t you set the table for us—dinner is ready.”

We chatted lightly over our meal. After the enormity of everything that had been revealed, it was nice to have an easy carefree conversation about trivial things. One of the things I loved about being with Nathan was how freely we talked. We never ran out of things to say to each other.

My mood lifted. It was such a nice ordinary dinner, and afterward he helped me clean the dishes. It felt odd—the normalcy of doing dishes together, after discovering I was a witch, he was a vampire, and my family was spread out across the globe in hiding while a murderer stalked us. And yet, it felt so right being here with him doing something so mundane. It made me feel safe, at least for the moment.

After we ate, he took me on a tour to explore the house. Hoping I’d find out more about my family, I found myself drawn to a room upstairs. The room was feminine with its delicately-flowered wallpaper and white linens.

“This was your mother’s room,” Nathan explained when he saw which room I’d ended up in.

Everything looked as if it was exactly as my mother had left it. There was makeup, some perfume, a hairbrush on the dresser, and a yellow sundress strewn across the bed. I picked it up and held it to my face, amazed that after all these years it still held a bit of a scent. It smelled like lilies and spring. I realized the scent was oddly familiar, and I wondered if it was possible I’d subconsciously remembered it as her smell.

“That is her scent.” Nathan confirmed, apparently sensing my unspoken question.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes while I looked around her room, saddened I’d never had the chance to know her. I stood there for a few minutes before Nathan moved quietly behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck—just a light brush of his lips against my nape, but goose bumps rose on my skin as a chill travelled down my spine.

“I wish—” I broke off as a tear fell onto my cheek.

“Would you like me to tell you about her?”

“Please.” It was a plea. “How well did you know my mother?”

“I knew your mother from the time she was born. She was such a happy child; always smiling. And her smiles would melt your heart. She was a free spirit even then. She loved life and lived in the moment, but it could get her into trouble sometimes.” He shook his head in reverie as an affectionate smile tugged at his lips. “I thought she would give your poor grandmother a heart attack. She was so uninhibited and eager to try everything—she had no fear. Unfortunately, she had many broken bones and injuries due to her lack of concern and tendency to throw caution to the wind.

“Your mother was the first in your family to have a gift beyond her powers.” His gaze locked with mine and he traced his finger along my jaw. “She was like you in that way, too.”

“She had a gift? What was it?” I was eager to discover any commonality.

“Your grandparents bean to notice it once she hit adolescence. She was talking to herself quite a bit. They became concerned, so they spoke to her about it one day. She told them that she was seeing the spirits of people who had recently passed away. For some reason or another, they were unable to move on, and once they discovered your mother could see them, they started speaking to her.”

“They...spoke to her?”

“She said they mostly talked simply because they were lonely, although, sometimes they would tell her things. Once, there was a story in the paper about a young girl who had gone missing. There was a search out for the girl. Your mother told your grandparents that she was dead and the man who killed her was a family friend she’d trusted.”

“How could she know that?”

“She said that one of her spirits told her the girl’s soul crossed over, and she gave them a message about who had killed her. Of course, no one wanted to risk explaining to the police, and they would never believe it anyway. They kept it to themselves, but followed the case to see what would happen. In the news about a week later, it was reported that they found her body. About a month after that, a man who was close to the family was charged with her murder.”

While he was talking about my mother, I sensed love and sadness in him. “Were you close friends?”

“It was different than friendship, deeper.”

I tensed up, a little weirded out by the thought of him dating my mom. But before I could ask him about it, he chuckled, probably sensing my reaction. “It was not like that. I loved your mother, but I was like an uncle to her. You must remember I knew her as a baby. I watched her grow up.”

“Did you know my father too?”

“No, by the time she met your father I had already left Denver. Very few people know what I am, so not aging becomes a problem. I have to move every fifteen years or so. I can eventually return to an area later, and if anyone does recognize me, I claim to be a son.

“I want to show you something else.” He grabbed my hand, suddenly eager.

“Uh oh. I get nervous now when you have something to show me.” I winked at him. He just laughed and dragged me behind him to a set of stairs. I followed him up to a locked door. “Is this the attic?”

“Yes.”

“You wanted to show me the attic?”

“Believe me, you will like it.”

I walked into the room behind him, and as soon as we breached the threshold, all of the candles on the walls ignited and the room brightened. “Holy crap! Did you do that?”

“No. It is spelled to light up when someone enters.”

“Neat trick,” I muttered, dryly.

Everything was new since I came to Denver, never before had things seemed so…alive. And as I entered the room, another new sensation rocked my body, different than anything I’d felt so far. Something inside me began to vibrate uncontrollably. It was distinct, like every vein under my skin was stretched as tight as the strings on a violin, and someone had just decided to pluck. Initially, it was a little alarming, but once I was able to acclimate to the phenomenon, I settled and had a chance to look around. That’s when I noticed the strange pictures all along the floor and walls. “What do all of these symbols mean?”

“The one on the floor is a pentagram. It represents the elements, earth, air, fire, and water. The circle enclosing it signifies the spirit surrounding and uniting them as one. As a whole, the pentagram acts as a compass when casting a circle. It is the first, and most important lesson a witch must learn when practicing magic,. The area provides a protective space for the use of magic, one without the interference of negative or evil influences.”

“It’s so strange. I can actually feel the energy in this room.”

“I know. This is a great place of power where your grandmother and her coven practiced their magic.” I explored the shelves of ribbons, stones, herbs, and... “Are these wine glasses?” I picked up a goblet that looked like large, unusual wine glasses.

“Those are called chalices. These specific chalices have been in your family for generations. During rituals and spells, they represent the element of water. The chalice is made out of silver because its metaphysical properties are known to help increase perception and intuition. You see the pentacle embossed on the chalice here?” He stroked his finger reverently along the design. “It represents the element earth.”

“It’s gorgeous.” I put the chalice back and continued my exploration.

On a clothed table that looked a little like an altar, I noticed a black-handled knife. “What’s the knife for?”

“It is an athame.” He picked it up as if it were precious. The handle was inscribed with symbols and words in a foreign language. “It represents the element of air and is used when casting a circle to call upon the elements. It can also be a formidable weapon, especially against my kind with the silver blade.”

“What do you mean ‘especially against your kind’? Silver can kill you?”

“As you know we are not exactly immortal, we can be killed. It is not easy to kill a vampire, but it certainly can be done. We should discuss it—you will need to know how in case the killer finds you.”

“Let me guess. Wooden stake through the heart, holy water, crosses, and garlic?” I’d seen enough vampire movies to know how to kill one.

He guffawed. “A fan of
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
, I see.” He hesitated, and then continued when I didn’t respond. “Wooden stakes will not kill a vampire. It will onlyslow him down until he removes it. Holy water will not kill a vampire, nor will a cross or garlic—they are utterly useless. Like I said before, sunlight will kill evil vampires practicing dark magic, and you really need not worry about the vampires who can tolerate sunlight. The most effective method of killing a vampire is with a silver dagger through the heart. The enhanced metaphysical properties in silver will poison the vampire’s blood and nullify the initial spell. The silver must enter the heart or you will merely slow him down. Fire and beheading will both also do the trick.”

“Well that’s easy enough; just put a silver knife through his heart. Not a problem.”

“Is that all?” He snorted, mockingly. “Brianna, I fear you are drastically underestimating the strength and speed a vampire possesses. Our senses are well beyond what you are capable of understanding.”

“So, show me then. Care to do a little sparring?” I wagged my eyebrows at him.

He was completely taken aback. “I will
not
fight you.”

“Why, are you afraid I might win?” I goaded, playfully.

“No. I was raised in a time where men never raised a hand to a woman. Ever.” He said the last emphatically, in hopes that I would drop the subject.

I guess he didn’t know me that well. “You may have grown up in the late nineteenth century, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s the twenty-first century now.” I poked my finger into his chest, exasperated by his sexist attitude. “And, just so you know, I do have a little experience sparring. I’ve taken down men bigger than you.”

“I realize that you hold a black belt in martial arts and have won many competitions. I had my private investigator check you out, once I knew who you were.” He gave me a rueful shrug. “However, I still have no intention of fighting you.”

Since the feminism angle wasn’t going to sway him, I tried a different tactic of persuasion. “Well, I suppose you’re not that concerned about my safety then.” I feigned nonchalance as I shrugged and turned to walk away.

He grabbed a hold of my elbow. “What do you mean? Of course I am concerned about your safety!”

“Well, according to you, I am woefully ill-equipped to defend against a vampire attack. I need to understand how fast and strong they are. You are the only vampire I know and you won’t help me, so I can only assume you aren’t that concerned.” I was smiling on the inside, but managed to maintain my expressionless poker face.

He was going to concede; I saw his mind churning. He wanted to reject the logic behind my argument, but ultimately, he knew I was right; there was no other way for me to train. He heaved a sighwith resigned acceptance. “All right, I will help you. But only because you are right—you need to understand the danger you are in.”

“Thank You.” I kissed him cheerfully before saying, “Where can we go to fight.”

“Right now?” He suddenly seemed panicked.

“You know what they say: Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.” I laughed. “Don’t worry so much. It’ll be fun.”

“Why do I feel like I have just been hoodwinked?” he asked with a smile.

Chapter 10

The basement proved the perfect venue for our little sparring match. My mother apparently practiced gymnastics as a child, which was why the entire floor was covered in gym mats. There were also mirrors and other gymnastic paraphernalia, not that we would need any of that.

“It’s still overwhelming for me. I keep discovering more and more about my mother.” I was embarrassed, not expecting to become choked up just by seeing equipment in the basement.

“Are you absolutely positive you want to do this?” he asked, wearily.

“Yes. And don’t you dare hold back—I’ll be able to tell. I need to know the degree of strength I’m up against. So if you have the chance to hit me, take it. And make sure you hit me as hard as you can—I need you to go for the kill.”

“You have no idea what you are asking for. I... I do not think I can do that.” His eyes were wide, and he looked a little frantic.

“Nathan. Do you think a crazy vampire serial killer will go easy on me if I’m fighting for my life?”

His lips tightened. “You are right.”

We circled each other for a few minutes. I was tuned into him, which helped me anticipate the exact moment he was going to attack. I moved to block the assault, and just barely escaped. Man, he was so fast, and—
damn it
—he was going easy on me.

“Nathan, you’re faster than that. Please, don’t restrain yourself.”

He came at me again, this time just a blur of movement as he hit me. Hard. My ribs felt as if they’d cracked when I thumped into the mats. Thank goodness they were there or it would’ve been worse.  I remained still as I caught my breath.

“Brianna, are all right?” he rushed over to me, panic filling his eyes as he frantically scanned my body attempting to gauge if I was hurt. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Listen to me... I need to know what I’m dealing with, so stop feeling guilty.  And
stop
holding back.” I stood up, prepared to go another round.

“You are a stubborn woman,” he said, obviously irritated that I wanted to continue.

“I think you may have mentioned that before.” I winked and smiled. “Again.”

I changed my strategy for this attack. Rather than trying to watch his movements—which was impossible anyway—I closed my eyes and fought on instinct alone. I was moderately more successful. By moderately more successful, I meant it took him a fraction of a second longer to knock me on my ass.