Page 48 of Blood Enchanted

Leaning against the back of her worn couch, she angled her head towards her desk littered with magical objects.

“When I was only a child, my mother uncovered an ancient grimoire from a coven of spirit witches in Bulgaria, detailing the spells they imbued with dark magick. In a nutshell, dark magick stems from spirit witches, or a full pentacle of the four affinities, who call not on Hecate for assistance with their magick, but Nyx—the Goddess of Night. A woman so powerful, even Zeus feared her. She didn’t toil in the Underworld with Hades and Hecate, but she ruled in Tartarus. It isn’t wrong, or inherently dangerous, unless you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Pondering this newfound information, I almost didn’t notice the downcast look that fell over her.

“You may as well hear it from me before someone else in the Coven tells you. Alistair Vasyliev and his generals tracked my parents down in Romania once they realized what she was up to. They killed my father, but my mother and I got away. I’ve been living in the States ever since, protected by the elders.”

My breath skittered out at the mention of Alexei’s father.

The vampire king was undoubtedly dangerous, but until my arrival in Salem, I hadn’t truly understood just how vicious and bloodthirsty other vampires could be towards witches.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. How can you bear to be around vampires after the suffering they caused you? Or Alexei?” I sucked in a breath at the sudden horrific realization coursing through me. “Oh, Goddess. The other night, when he joined us in the cemetery. I would have never let him follow us if I knew—”

“I’ve made my peace with the past, Jade,” she assured me calmly. “It’s been a rocky road getting to this place, but after lots of inner healing, I’ve come to terms with the fact that not all vampires are evil, just like not all witches are saints. I can only hold those who do me, or my loved ones, harm accountable for their actions.”

My lips snapped shut at her wisdom.

She pulled a long pendant with delicate animal bones, charms, and an inkling of dark magick within from her t-shirt. “I also wear this as protection. It keeps me safe from vampires who would do me harm, along with this.” She reached past her collection of talismans and hefted up an aged leatherbound grimoire.

“The magick surrounding it is intense,” I breathed in awe, ghosting a finger over the cover etched in ancient runes. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Do you mind if I open it?”

“Feel free. I’m going to rinse these mugs out.”

When I pried open the fragile and frayed pages, a long-ago scent filtered out.

Labdanum and dried hay. Orris root and the sweet nectar of heliotrope. And dark magick.

The grimoirereekedwith it.

The book conjured images of a time long ago, when vampires had free reign to conquer the lands and purge them of creatures deemed unfit. Most of the text was written in Romanian, the scribbles indecipherable. The wordvampiretched atop a page caught my attention, and I released a shaky breath. As I thumbed through the worn pages, my brows furrowed at the ink splatters and other additions haphazardly pasted in.

When Genevieve returned from the kitchen, I shifted my focus to her collection of cursed objects. My fingers trailed over the collection, a tendril of doubt burrowing in my chest as I realized none of the magick was broken. Instead, the inky darkness of their combined power settled over me like a foreboding cloud.

“That’s one of my favorites.” Her lips quirked at the rusted horseshoe I picked up delicately from her desk. “Whenever I place it among my things, I’m bound to receive good fortune from the Goddess. But I try not to use it every day, lest I become too dependent on it.”

“But why?” I gasped in shock. “I mean, why would you risk using them? Shouldn’t they be destroyed so the magick can’t corrupt you or lead you astray?”

Her brows furrowed tightly. “Why on Gaia would I destroy them? Our people created them—gifts passed down through the bloodlines, and when lost, they search for a witch who has the most need for them.”

Everything around me closed in. “But I thought—”

“Did your grandmother tell you that?” she bit out, stalking closer to grab the horseshoe from my steel grip. “Because that is not the way we teach our covens. Magick should be respected, not taken apart and trashed like it’s nothing. Not even the cursed talismans from Bled.”

I gaped, sure I had misheard her. “The cursed talismans—”

“You must know the stories,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “The Bled witches perished and their talismans became corrupted, the dark magick within turning on the witches’ attackers. Those are the only talismans I would feel wary toying with, but even still, I wouldn’tdestroythem.”

I couldn’t very well tell her that everything I had learned about magical talismans came from the son of the vampire who killed her father. Or that I had been secretly toying with the Bled talismans for a year.

Regret, sharp and sour, filled me.

“Can you teach me then? Because I’m just now realizing I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, and that isnotme,” I said, horrified to realize my emotions were fraying at the edges. “I’ve never struggled with my magick a day in my life before last Samhain, and now I can’t seem to gain my bearing.”

The hot splash of traitorous tears against my lashes fell to my cheeks, and I wiped them away to hide my weakness.

Genevieve let out a deep breath and placed the talisman on her desk before sitting on the edge of her battered couch. “Of course, Jade. You have nothing to be embarrassed or apologetic for. Let’s start over.”

“Sorry,” I sniffed, “I’m not usually so weepy.”

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