Chapter 46

Warmth sailed through Lynda. Pain faded away. Yet everything still was sore...even her eyelids hurt. “Wh-what happened?”

She blinked a few times. Natasha leaned over her. Had the half-vamp healed her? Why? Lynda had killed her son. Who cared that it was accidental.

“I'm so, so sorry for your loss.” Lynda pushed the words past her throat which felt like it held shards of glass in it.

Natasha wiped at the tears streaming down her face. “Thank you for bringing him back to me.”

Coldness seeped into Lynda. What did Natasha mean? Was the little boy a zombie now and had resurrected?

“I didn't do anything.” Had she? Last she remembered was her magic shooting out of her a thousand times harder and faster than the magical fire that brought down a skyscraper.

Natasha shook her head. “Never thought it was possible to bring back the dead. Boris has been trying for centuries. Yet you do it without any training at all. Thank you.”

“Zombies?” Please don't let that be the case. She'd give her blood as soon as it was safe to do so. Right now though, she felt like she'd been hit by a train.

“Not at all.” Natasha sat back and gestured to her right. A small boy came forward and Lynda froze.

It was the child from underneath the blanket. His skin was pale, but not the greenish-gray of the vampire-zombies. He looked...normal.

“He's alive?” Lynda sat up, but lay back down on the concrete when her head swam.

“Yes. Your magic brought him and the others back to life.” Natasha beamed, hugging the little boy until he squealed.

Not the beheaded guy though…Lynda cringed afraid to look over at where the bodies had been.

“Mama, I want to go play with my friends.”

Natasha kissed his cheek then let him dash off.

“How?” Lynda noticed the young teen she'd seen dead now talking with the elderly man and the other woman. Bile rose in her stomach at the image of a walking corpse with no head. “Everyone?”

“Well except for Louis, but I think that was because he didn't have his head.”

“I'm going to be sick.” Lynda curled onto her side and took gulping breaths.

“Take all the time you need,” Natasha gushed. “I don't even understand how you did it or how you can have that much power.”

She'd healed those people...well, brought them back to life...how was that even possible? Yet even after Natasha's healing, she couldn't even sit up. Was it because of what she'd done or the fact she had no idea what she was doing magic-wise? The magic council might help her train if they didn't lock her up as dangerous.

“Where are Pierre and Mihnea?” Lynda frowned as she tried to lift her head to spot them. A headache pounded at her temples making her skull throb.

“We are here.” Mihnea's voice with his slight Romanian accent made her smile.

“And your favorite is alongside you too.” Pierre joked, taking a hold of her hand.

Joy filled her that they were okay and that her magic hadn’t harmed them again. Maybe the council could muffle her power until she had a better grip on how to use it. And Andrei. She missed him so much. Fear that he was hurt pressed heavy on her chest. She wouldn't feel at ease until she saw him…touched him.

“Help me up,” Lynda huffed moving into a sitting position. “I've got to get to the witches’ council.”

“You need rest, my love.” Pierre scooped her into his arms.

“I need to get to Andrei.” She'd done all she could, but she needed all of her princes with her. To know that they were safe.

“The witches can wait.” Mihnea's tone was harsh and deep. “As for my brother, he'd want you to stay until fully recovered before you came to him and addressed a group of witches.”

“Don't you see?” She waved a hand out and Pierre adjusted his hold on her. “Look what happened with a simple spell! I tried to make a flame. What happens if I have a nightmare? How much worse will my magic get if I don't learn to control it? The witches can help me.” They had to as no one else would have an inkling of how to fix her magic issues.

“And what if they decide you are too dangerous? Or want to take your power for themselves, siphoning it away until you die?” Mihnea crossed his arms, the muscle between his dark eyebrows furrowed.

“Then I'll have to take that chance because this can't happen again.” She hiccupped a cry. “I can't live with guilt like this a second time.”

Mihnea's features softened. “Pierre and I will go with you.”

“Thank you.” Her heart ached with how much she loved them and they, her.

“Bloody hell, as the Brits say.” Pierre placed his hands on his hips. “So how do we get to this council and free our brother?”

“I can help with that.” The witch from earlier stepped forward dry-washing her hands. “We need to go immediately as I said before.” Her gaze drifted to the white sheet now only hiding one dead body.

“How do we know this isn't a trick?” Mihnea asked.

She met his stare. “You don't.”

“What?” Mihnea snarled, but Lynda put her hand on his shoulder.

“This is our best chance and they have your brother.”

“Which doesn't make me endeared to trust them.” Pierre narrowed his eyes.

“Sorry,” Lynda leaned heavily on Mihnea but held out her hand, “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Lynda Garcia and this is Mihnea and Pierre.”

“I know who you all are.” The woman stiffened then thrust her hand out. “I'm Grace.”

“Just Grace?” Lynda shook her hand.

“First rule of magic: names are powerful.”

“Ah, right.” Lynda nodded. There were probably hundreds of magical rules and she was certain she'd probably broken half of them since discovering her magic.

Movement near the firefighters caught Lynda's attention. A dark figure sailed up behind one of the men. It tossed the firefighter aside like a rag doll. The spotlight from the firetruck didn't reveal enough to show who this person was.

“Witch!” Dracula bellowed. “Come and face my justice.”

Mihnea's arms tightened around her and Pierre stepped forward.

“Get out of here, Lynda!” Boris shouted rushing forward with a dozen others. “We'll hold him off as long as we can.”

Dracula ripped out the throat of the first vampire who reached him. Then broke the back of another.

“Lynda! You will pay for everything you have wrought.”

Regardless of how she felt, they had to leave before more died because of her. Once she figured out how to control her magic, she could return and confront Dracula.

“Grace, let's go, now,” Lynda said.

“Yeah, you've got a magic carpet up your sleeve or something?” Pierre asked not taking his gaze off his father tearing apart the Russian vampires.

“I-I,” she stuttered. The blood rushed from her face as she stared at the fight a few feet away.

Mihnea stepped forward, blocking Grace's view of the massacre. “Grace, we need to leave now. Take us to the high council.”

She blinked then shuddered. “Yes. Of course.” Taking a breath, she whispered a spell, “Revenja Omney Trobox.”

The world around them spun so fast that Lynda had to close her eyes to keep from throwing up. Behind her eyelids, colors and lights swirled and sparked. Her body felt like she was falling a thousand miles down, but yet Mihnea still held her.

As fast as the world had turned into a demonic merry-go-round, it stopped.

Mihnea grunted and Lynda opened her eyes.

They were in a huge chamber with glowing orbs of lights along the stonewalls. Tapestries of red and gold, blue and silver, green and copper lined the walls.

“Welcome to the high council's headquarters.” Grace straightened the collar of her coat.

“Where are we, exactly?” Pierre asked turning in a circle.

“A magical plane. Somewhere no one can reach unless invited or brought here.” She held out a hand. “Come, we need to take Lynda to the healers before we meet with the elders.”

“No, you will take us to Andrei first.” She wasn't going to waste one more second without him no matter how much she felt like she wouldn't be able to stand on her own if Mihnea set her down.