Chapter 118 Ch. 88
“I did not think I could do this,” Zara whispered, staring at the small flame dancing just above her palm. She watched the orange light flicker, and she felt the heat tickling her skin, but it did not burn her.
“Spells are just a way to focus the energy you already have,” Imogen said, leaning against the cold wall of the lab. She watched Zara with a look that was almost like pride, though she kept her arms crossed over her chest.
“I actually thought only witches could use spells, to be honest.”
“Ah yes. Your fairytale brain thought only witches could do this because you were taught to think in boxes, but you are a catalyst, and that means you are the spark for everything.”
“It feels different than just moving things,” Zara said, closing her hand to snuff out the flame. She looked at her palm, which was slightly red but unhurt.
Fot the past few weeks, she had gotten better at controlling her powers and she felt like that was all there was to who she was. Until Imogen had gotten her a large spell book two days ago.
“Remember, you won’t always have a spell book with you,” Imogen yawned. “You have to learn the important ones.”
“Yeah, I should probably start by learning the language this is written in.”
“It’s not a human language. It’s ancient… hard to learn.”
“I’m a straight A student,” Zara rolled her eyes playfully. “Try me.”
“We will have to do that much later,” Imogen sighed.
“You know…” Zara started, her fingers tracing yhe lining of the counters. “It feels like the words I am saying are actually pulling the power out of my blood.”
“That is because they are,” Imogen replied, walking over to the table to pack away a few glass jars. “You have spent a few weeks getting better at all this, and you are learning faster than any student I have ever had, but do not get cocky. A spell can turn on you if you lose your focus for even a second.”
“I know,” Zara said, sliding off her stool. She felt a bit tired, as she always did after these sessions, but she also felt stronger.
“Go find your boy,” Imogen said, waving a hand toward the door. “I can hear his footsteps… he has been pacing the hallway for twenty minutes, and his energy is making my head ache.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Zara said, a blush spreading across her face.
“Why am I not surprised?”
Zara laughed softly and walked out of the room, finding Ethan exactly where Imogen said he would be. He was leaning against the far wall, his hands tucked into his pockets, but the moment he saw her, his face transformed, a soft smile spreading out.
“How was it?” Ethan asked, stepping forward to meet her.
“I made fire,” Zara said, a small smile playing on her lips. “Real fire, Ethan. And I didn't even have to get angry to do it.”
“That is amazing,” Ethan said, reaching out to take her hand. He pulled her closer, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “But you look exhausted. And you have been in there for hours. Later than usual.”
“I am fine,” she said, though she leaned her head against his shoulder as they started to walk back toward the main part of the house. “I just want to sit down for a bit.”
“We can go to your room,” Ethan murmured, his voice dropping into that low tone that always made her heart skip a beat. “I asked the chefs to make your favorite meal.”
“I like the sound of that,” Zara replied.
++++
They stood together by the large window in Zara’s room, watching the way the silver light hit the trees in the garden below. Ethan was standing behind her, his hands resting on her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
“I feel like I’m pregnant,” she laughed, rubbing her slightly protruding tummy. “God, I ate a lot.”
“I mean you need all the strength you can. And you skipped lunch.”
“Right?”
Zara felt the cool air coming through the gap in the window, but she was warm because of him.
“It is so quiet,” Zara whispered, leaning her head back against his shoulder.
“Too quiet,” Ethan agreed, his grip on her waist tightening just a little bit.
“My father has been too happy lately,” he continued after a few minutes of silence. “He likes the way his men are reacting to your blood.”
“I hate that he is giving it to them,” Zara said, her brow furrowing. “I saw one of the guards fly from the roof today and land like it was nothing. They are getting stronger, Ethan. They are getting faster.”
“I know,” Ethan muttered, his breath warm against her neck. “But at least it keeps him off your back for now.”
“I guess… and makes me feel confident in case something happens I guess.”
A sudden pop echoed in the distance, followed by a bright flash of light in the sky. Zara jumped, her eyes widening as she watched a spray of red and green sparks rain down over the treeline.
“Fireworks?” Zara asked, looking confused. “Is there a holiday I missed?”
“I do not think so,” Ethan said, his voice sounding wary. He didn't let go of her; instead, he pulled her even closer to the glass. “It’s like holidays already… maybe some teens are just being teens?”
“Shit. We have missed exams and test… I’ll be behind…”
“Dunno how long my dad will keep you here. You could’ve joined the summer lessons.”
“Well fuck.”
More pops followed, filling the sky with colors that reflected in the dark glass of the window. For a moment, they just watched, thinking it was someone in the nearby town celebrating something. It looked beautiful, and it felt like a small bit of the normal world was trying to find its way into the mansion.
Then, a several massive crashes came from downstairs. It wasn't the sound of a firework; it was the sound of heavy glass shattering and wood splintering. The sound was followed by shouts.
“What was that?” Zara gasped, spinning around in Ethan’s arms.
“Shit,” Ethan hissed as he saw several flashes of a movement downstairs.
“What?”
A scream rang out from downstairs followed by the sound of something sizzling.
“I have to get you somewhere safe,” Ethan warned, his eyes turning that deep, bloody red in an instant.
He didn't wait for her to move. He shoved her toward the bed and turned toward the door, his teeth baring. Before he could even reach for the handle, the door was kicked off its hinges, flying across the room and smashing into the wardrobe.
Three men stepped into the room. They weren't wearing the uniforms of Lorenzo’s guards. They were dressed in dark, tattered clothes, and their eyes were filled with a wild, hungry light. One of them had a long wooden stick in his hand, the end of it carved into a jagged point.
“Where is the girl?” the man in the lead growled, his voice sounding like it was being dragged over gravel.
“You are not getting her,” Ethan said, and then he moved.
He was a blur of speed, moving faster than Zara had ever seen him move before. He slammed into the first man, throwing him back into the hallway with enough force to crack the wall. The other two lunged at him, but Ethan caught one by the throat and hurled him across the room ducking just in time as a wooden stake whistled past his head.
Zara scrambled off the bed, her heart hammering so hard she could feel it in her fingertips. She looked at the man coming toward her and held out her hand, her voice shaking as she whispered the words Imogen had taught her.
“Ignis!” she cried out.
A burst of orange flame shot from her palm, hitting the man square in the chest. He screamed, his clothes catching fire instantly, and he tumbled backward out of the window, crashing through the glass and falling to the ground below.
“Stay behind me,” Ethan commanded, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the stairs.
The house was in total chaos. Zara could hear the sounds of fighting coming from every direction. Smashing glass, the thud of bodies hitting walls, and the high, shrill screams of vampires being burned with some kind of liquid. As they reached the top of the stairs, Zara looked down into the grand foyer and gasped.
It was a bloodbath.
Lorenzo’s men were fighting like demons. Because they had been using Zara’s blood, they were moving with a speed that didn't look natural. They were leaping from the balconies and tearing through the invaders with their bare hands. But the attackers were prepared. They had bottles of clear liquid that they were throwing at Lorenzo’s guards, and whenever it touched skin, it started to smoke and bubble.
It was just like when she was rescued.
“Aeuthrin…” Ethan muttered, his face grim as he pulled her down the stairs. “They came to wipe us out.”
A vampire lunged at them from the side, a wooden stake raised high, but Ethan caught his arm and snapped the wood like it was a twig. He kicked the man down the stairs and then grabbed a heavy metal candle holder from the railing, using it like a club to clear a path.
“We have to get to the lab!” Zara shouted over the noise of the fighting. “Imogen is still down there!”
“She can take care of herself,” Ethan said, though he changed direction and started heading toward the east wing.
They ran through the hallways, dodging bodies and flying shards of wood. Zara saw a guard she recognized—a man who had been kind to her once—combust into a pile of ash right in front of her after a bottle of water of aeuthren hit his face. She felt a wave of nausea, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
They reached the lab wing, but the attackers were already retreating. The floor was covered in blood, and the air was filled with the smell of it as well. The fighting seemed to be dying down as the surviving invaders realized they couldn't win against the surge of power Lorenzo’s men were showing.
“They are leaving,” Ethan said, his chest heaving as he stood in the middle of the hallway. He was covered in dark blood, and his shirt was torn, but he looked unhurt.
“Where is your father?” Zara asked, her voice small as she looked around the ruined hallway. “Where is Lorenzo? Did he really just let this happen? What happened to y’all’s security?”
Ethan’s face furrowed in confusion and then went as pale as he could get.
He hadn’t seen his father since the fight was so… not like him.
He didn't say a word, but he started to walk toward the main study. Zara followed him, her hands shaking as she tucked them into her pockets.
They reached the double doors of the study. One of them was hanging by a single hinge, and the other was lying on the floor. Ethan pushed the door open, and they both stopped dead in their tracks.
The room was a mess of overturned furniture and shredded papers, but that wasn't what caught their eyes.
Lorenzo was pinned to the far wall, his feet dangling a few inches off the floor. A thick wooden stake had been driven through his chest, right through his heart, holding him against the wood of the bookshelf. On the wound, someone had poured a thick, dark liquid that was hissing and bubbling.