Chapter 51

Lynda finished her apple and tossed it in a silver trashcan she passed. She trailed after Grace to the council chambers. “I'd like to try and give my blood to Mihnea and Andrei. It helped the Russian vamps with a—” Should she mention the tainted blood and zombies? Maybe not. Witches and vampires didn't get along well as it was and giving magic users another advantage against her lovers didn't feel right. Besides, she didn’t want any more vamp-zombies to deal with…ever. “An issue they had and it couldn't hurt.”

“I'm not a healer or doctor,” she cocked her head to the side with a frown on her face, “but you look exhausted to me despite the food.”

“Great, I look that bad?”

“Sorry but yeah. You've got dark circles under your eyes and your skin looks ashen.” She paused, letting two young witches cross in front of them. “If it were up to me, I'd wait until I'd rested before donating blood.”

Lynda sighed. The witch was probably right. Besides, she'd made the council wait this long and it had cost her Mihnea and Andrei. Best to find out what the hell the witch elders wanted before she wore herself out by giving blood so soon after helping the Russians. What she wanted to do more than anything was have her three princes in bed with her, all of them well and healthy, and sleep the whole week.

“Pierre should be done with the blood bags now.” Lynda glanced around, but it was only magic-sphere-lit hallways that seemed to go on for miles. “Will he meet us soon?”

At least she'd have one of her men with her. Might be better that it was only her and Pierre facing off against the witches. Mihnea would want to rip out their hearts if he didn't like what they said. Even Andrei could be too protective. Pierre was the most diplomatic of his brothers and level-headed. Though he'd kill for her too.

“He should be at the doors waiting for us.” Grace smiled.

Her assurance didn’t help the grasshoppers leaping in Lynda’s stomach. God, couldn’t she answer a questionnaire online or something?

Two more turns and Lynda was effectively lost in this maze of hallways. Doubted even a compass would be able to guide her. Outside two huge polished wooden doors that looked like a cyclops could easily fit through, Pierre leaned against one of the frames.

“We can burn this place and take off with my brothers.” He winked.

“As tempting as that is,” Lynda sighed, “I have to face what I did.” And pray they had a new user freedom card. How could they judge her too harshly when she didn’t know what the hell she was doing?

“You sure you're ready?” Grace asked.

“No,” she shook her head, “but I can't put it off any longer.”

Pierre held her hand as they stepped forward into a huge circular room with three rows of chairs in semi-circles. Each row was elevated so they could see the center of the room where a circle was etched into the floor.

“No one's here.” Pierre squeezed her hand.

Grace stepped up to the first chair, bowed, the clapped her hands three times. “I call the elders and ancients for the meeting of Lynda Garcia.”

Slowly, women and men gathered from a doorway at the back of the room and filled the seats.

One woman looked down her nose at Lynda as she took her seat. Her nose was high and thin. “You mean trial not meeting,” the woman snapped.

Pierre tensed beside Lynda.

“It's okay,” Lynda whispered. Last thing she wanted was for Pierre to launch himself at the witches and magic and blood to start flying everywhere. She placed a hand in Pierre's and his posture relaxed some. “Let's hear what they have to say first.”

But she couldn't stop thinking that they had arranged this so-called meeting like she was already convicted of crimes and this was a formality.

“Step forward without your vampire, Miss Garcia.” A man with a bald head and a cheap-looking toupee scribbled across some papers on the long table before him.

Pierre bristled, then grinned. “Careful old man, I can hear your heart beat faster and you reek of fear. You may have been able to take out my brothers somehow for this little shindig of yours, but yours will be the first throat I rip out.”

“How dare you threaten me.” The man's face colored purple.

“Not a threat, a promise if you do anything against Lynda.”

“Please,” Lynda said, putting a hand on Pierre's arm. “There is no need for violence.” At least not yet. If they discovered that these witches had anything to do with her two other men's conditions, then the elders would have her to fear.

“Quite right.” Another woman nodded, her double chin jiggling.

Lynda counted the elders. Minus two empty chairs, there were thirty-one present.

“All in favor of starting this trial—hearing,” the old man corrected as he eyed Pierre.

A chorus of “aye’s rose from the group.

“Any opposed?” he asked.

Two women and a young man stood which caused those around them to glare. Lynda hoped that meant these three were against capital punishment. The elder spokesperson scribbled something down on his parchment paper then the three standing witches sat down.

“Now we will proceed with our evaluation of Miss Lynda Garcia.”

“Wait.” Lynda held up her hand. Why were three chairs empty? What if one or more of those witches would side with her? “Aren't you going to wait for the others?”

“No need.” He crossed his arms over the table. “They’re dead.”

Wonderful. Did they die of natural causes or disagree with a ruling? She doubted any of them would tell her if she asked.

Beside her, Pierre placed an arm across her hip, tucking her close to his side.

“Miss Garcia, you have used magic several times, but have not come to the council for training or guidance or help. Because of your actions, a building was destroyed and lives lost.”

“Only one,” she cleared her throat, “only one vampire was killed.” Though even his death weighed heavily in her heart.

He glowered and flipped through his parchment papers. “No there was more than one death, it says so right here.” He tapped the paper.

“I healed them.” She'd resurrected them somehow, yet she'd been unable to heal Andrei or Mihnea. Her gut twisted with her guilt. She should be with them now and not entertaining a bunch of witches. But if they could help her, then she needed to go through with this. Together maybe they'd cure Andrei and Mihnea. Then teach her how to use her gift so she could protect her princes and herself.

“Excuse me? Y-you healed them from death.” He made a face like he'd sucked on a sour lemon with vinegar.

“Yes.”

“That's not possible.” He slammed his hand on the table which didn't stop the murmuring of the other witches.

“It's true,” Pierre said.

“We do not accept vamp word in this court.” The elder waved a hand. “She's your lover, you'll say anything to save her.”

A knot tightened in her gut. Save me from what? Did he mean that she'd be slain if they found her guilty of misusing her magic? Was that what happened to the missing witches that were dead? Had they stepped out of line or made a mistake and were dealt with? What would they do to her, who had no knowledge of her power yet brought down a building? Would they think her too powerful to let live?

“She speaks the truth.” Grace moved closer to Lynda's free side. “I was there and witnessed it.”

“And these vampires were dead,” he scoffed. “Past their first deaths?”

“Yes,” Grace said and bowed her head slightly.

Murmurs rose from the council members. Many shook their head while others frowned.

“How did you do that? Raise the undead after they'd died a second time.” The elder narrowed his gaze. His arms crossed over the parchments in front of him. “No one has ever been able to cheat death twice.”

“I don't know.” Lynda shrugged. “Look, I don't know how I did what I did exactly. Never paid attention in magic history class because a week ago, I didn't have powers. At least that I knew of. All of this is new and dangerous. And I need help understanding my abilities and how to use them.”

“What if we can't help you?” a woman with long red hair asked from the back of the group of elders.

“I'm hoping you can tell me.” Lynda shuddered. “If not, then a way to dampen my power so I don't hurt anyone accidentally like I did those in the building.”

The elder gasped, but schooled his features. “That sort of extreme is only for the very vile and unapologetic of our kind.”

“Then why am I here on trial?” Lynda asked.

“We want to hear what happened from you and why before we pass judgment.”

Trepidation sunk into her gut and wrapped tightly around her chest. What if they decided she was guilty? “Don't I get a lawyer or something?”

A few snickered, but others shook their heads.

“Attorneys are for the human courts not magical.” The elder peered at his papers again. “Now what magical words or chants did you use to raise these dead vampires?”

Holy hell, maybe Pierre and Mihnea were right and she shouldn’t have come here. But she was already on the run with Dracula. No need to add a group of witches to the mix. Plus, she really needed their help to figure out how to control her magic.

“None,” she said.

The elder smacked his hand on the table making several around him jump. “Tell us the truth.”

“I am.” Why doesn’t he believe me? His violent reaction worried her that they already had the stake outback burning for her. “All I did was look at the bodies under the sheet and my heart broke with what I'd done and how I wished I could have prevented their deaths. How none of them deserved to die because of me.”

She stepped out of Pierre's side embrace despite the urge to run away. “Then the next thing I knew, all of the victims were alive save one. So if you are going to judge me, do so for that forever lost life.”

“And you say that you recently came into your magic?” a young man with curly blond hair asked.

“Yes.” She nodded, unsure if she had told them that Ekaterina was her ancestor. Would that sway them in her favor that she was part of a powerful lineage? Or would it terrify them that the witch who had created Dracula ran in her veins?

“What you say isn’t possible. You’d have to have the power of life and death in your—” the elder cut off abruptly, the color from his face, fading. “What kind of magical creature are you?”

“I-I don’t understand the question.” Anxiety wrapped around her and squeezed until she felt her heartbeat in her ears. “Aren’t I a witch, like you all?” She glanced over at Grace whose eyes widened as though in disbelief at the elder’s words.

The elder cleared his throat. “Give us a moment.” With a wave of his hand and a few foreign words Lynda didn’t catch, a thick screen shot up and around the elders. Black and dark blue liquid inside the screen twisted and tumbled together.

She could see their shadows as they hunched together but not their faces or hear them. “Pierre, what are they saying?”

Vamp hearing was almost as good as weres.

Frowning, he approached the screen and leaned in closer. A sizzle popped from the swirling screen. “It’s soundproofed by magic. I can’t make out any sounds at all nor break through it or it feels like the sun encased in glass that will fry me to a crisp if I try.”

“That’s a barrier spell.” Grace wrung her hands. “It keeps out anyone who isn’t an elder. Even I couldn’t get through it.”

“What now? What are they debating?” Whether or not to burn her at the stake or exorcise her?

Grace backed up a step. “I-I’m not sure but there are only some beings who can perform magic, but aren’t witches.”

“Oh?” If Lynda wasn’t a witch, then the council couldn’t judge her, right? But then again, they probably couldn’t help her with her magic training either. She’d be back where she started with all this power and no way to learn how to control it. They didn’t have time. Sooner or later, either the witches would throw them out—if they didn’t decide they were better off with her dead—or Dracula would find a way to get to her and his sons. Either way, she was screwed.

Grace licked her lips. “Um…wizards and warlocks have magic. The latter serves evil, of course. Some fairies, and of course sorcerers and sorceresses.”

“What’s the difference then between a witch and a sorceress?” Lynda asked as Pierre wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned into his side for comfort.

“A witch is born with the gift. And a sorceress learns spells and such to use magic.” Grace scratched her cheek.

“So a sorceress learns magic?” At Grace’s nod, Lynda continued, “Well, that can’t be me 'cause I haven’t studied anything about how to do spells or such.”

Grace gave a half-smile that faded fast and Pierre tensed.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” Lynda reached out and grabbed the woman’s arm when she turned to leave. “Please.”

Swallowing hard, Grace gave her a curt nod. “Other magic users are demons.”