Chapter 26
Valentina
R achel was gone.
Just … gone.
It had been three hours since she’d fought me and ran out the door, and not even a basic locator spell was working. Luka had held me back while Rachel made her escape and Darius intervened before my temper got the best of me and killed the young man.
All eyes watched me as I passed down the hall after failing the third spell I tried, giving me a wide berth from my crackling rage. As I reached for the iron door handle, Darius grabbed my elbow. “We will find her,” he affirmed, but I yanked my arm away.
“You think she’ll willingly come back after what I just did to her?” I growled, my teeth clenched as regret tugged at my chest. “She has my ring, and I broke my one promise to her!”
Darius’s dark brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “From how you’re acting, you seem to care more about that ring than your daughter and some promise. I thought you were more capable of emotion than this.”
A slow smile spread across my lips. “And you seem to have forgotten who and what I am.”
Yes, I was capable of love. I loved Cyrus, but he died, and they locked me away, my soul wandering the depths of Hell before I managed to escape Lucifer and hide—until Rachel brought me back. When I awoke, I wanted to love my child.
“When I rose from that coffin and saw that Rachel had survived, I thought it would bring me joy, a sense of purpose. But instead, I’m left with a foul-mouthed, sarcastic, reckless child with can’t even control her powers. From the moment I met her, all I’ve felt is disappointment. I’ve seen parents who loved their children, parents who risked everything to create them—parents who fought and laid down their lives to save them when the academy was attacked. Me? I tried to use compulsion on her, something I swore I’d never do, to ensure the ring protected me, not my own daughter. I’ve shown her that I’m unchanged and have little humanity left. There’s nothing left!”
Darius’s expression turned grim. He was judging me. Everyone in the hallway was judging me with looks of disgust. I didn’t care; I wouldn’t let guilt deter me from tracking down what was mine.
“All I want is that ring, and I have no idea where Rachel is going with it, and basic spells aren’t working.” I paused, knowing that what I was about to ask was far more dangerous than any spell I had ever done. “Darius, I need my book.”
His eyes widened, but he stayed silent for a long time before nodding. “Follow me.”
He brushed past me and opened the library door. I followed him inside to one of the shelves along the back wall. He pulled on a red leatherbound book, and a small cabinet opened beside the shelf. Darius reached in and removed my Book of Shadows. When I had fled to the States with Cyrus, I left the book in his care until I returned.
Thank God he kept it.
Darius turned to me, but he kept the book near his chest. “There are plenty of other spells that don’t need to come from this book. You told me how dangerous the magic inside these pages is. Don’t risk it.”
He was right; I could draw from countless spellbooks, but my Book of Shadows was tied to my bloodline. Its power resonated with my element. My mother, and her mothers before her, crafted every spell within the pages. Our coven in Romania killed her for using dark magic, which was forbidden. Her screams as she burned haunted my nightmares for years to come. The dark magic soon found me after her death, chasing my shadow, tempting me to use its power as she had. I was only nineteen when Mother died, and I was alone in a world that hated my existence.
Five years later, Kylan turned me into the first vampire—stripping me of the magic that flowed in my veins. Before I died my first death, I swore never to abandon the book my mother and ancestors had poured their souls into despite its controversial contents. When I awoke as a vampire, I sliced the palm of my hand and let my blood, which was now mingled with Kylan’s, soak into the book’s ancient pages. That blood was an offering to the Shadows, to my family’s magic, to seal away the power I had been born with until I could find a way to use it again.
Being hunted down and turned by Kylan was not by chance. I was hand-picked to be his progeny; it was a direct command from his king. Lucifer came to me in a vision shortly after Mother died, claiming me as his future Queen of Hell. He’d sealed my fate before I even met Kylan, destined to be his bride. Of course, I immediately refused. Having his minion turn me into a monster was only part of Lucifer’s punishment for telling him no .
However, it was only the beginning. Before Kylan disappeared, he brought me a black stone ring set in bronze, a gift from Lucifer. He’d forged it from Kylan’s blood and would allow me to access a trickle of magic, thanks to his angelic heritage. There was a price, though. If I wore the ring, it meant that I accepted Lucifer’s proposal and that when my end came, I would be his forever . The temptation to regain even a fraction of my magic was too strong, so I agreed—a gift with conditions from my future husband.
Darius cleared his throat, pulling me back to the library. He placed the book in my hands, and a cool sensation, almost like a stream of water, began to move through my fingers and up my arms. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed. I hadn’t asked for my book since my return, even though I felt it calling for me every single day. I hoped I didn’t have to use it, but I needed more magic than what was coming through my ring on Rachel’s finger. Without my true power, no spell would be strong enough.
“I know what you’re going to do,” Darius murmured, brushing his fingers against my cheek. “Please. Don’t.”
I shook my head. “You have to let me. Our cause is too important. I need to summon him.”
He nervously swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I didn’t need to read Darius’s mind to know how he felt. His love and devotion were apparent, but I’d been promised to another long before Cyrus and him, and he knew it.
Someone who he feared more than anyone.
“Alright,” he said, “but I won’t be here when you open that gate. I’ll stand outside. I have to protect my family out there. Those dhampirs especially. Don’t pull him all the way through—”
“I know,” I reassured him. “Go.”
He gave me one final glance before abruptly leaving the library and slamming the door behind him.
Now alone, I hurried to the center of the room and kneeled on the hardwood floor. I placed the book on the ground and opened it. A tightness squeezed my dead heart as I flipped through the fragile pages written by my mother and my ancestors before her. I found the spell I needed. If I was going to cast a powerful spell, I needed some help.
My fingers trembled as I touched the surface of those pages, running over the black ink. The spell was written in an ancient language, the words so smudged and faded that they were nearly impossible to understand. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a pocket knife and a small hourglass. After pricking my index finger, I squeezed out a thick, black-red bead of blood and drew symbols onto the floor.
“Spirits of the coven, bound by the blood and the waters,” I chanted, my voice steady despite the thrum of nerves under my skin. The symbols on the floor began to glow. “Hear my call, old mothers. Rise from the depths of shadows. Awaken from your slumber. I summon thee to my sacred circle by the lines of lineage and the power of our blood.” The spell spilled from my lips like a hymn of praise.
The room became as cold as a northern wind, the veil of death parting for the spirits who listened. Intense, nearly blinding golden light shone from the symbols on the floor and the book.
“Arise, matriarchs of my bloodline . ”
There was an icy breeze, like the sigh of a corpse, and my great-grandmother, Katalina, emerged from the light, her outline forming as if by invisible hands. Long obsidian-black curls framed the face I knew well, some strands pulled into thick braids adorned with silver beads. Her deep-brown eyes bore into mine, both stern and filled with warmth I hadn’t seen in over a thousand years. Another form emerged, manifesting into my grandmother, Daciana. Her willowy frame, steel-colored hair, and knowing smile solidified. The judgmental gleam in her eyes never wavered, even in death.
Finally, my beloved mother, Nicoleta, with her auburn curls and bright blue eyes, stepped through the parted veil of light. A ghostly pallor had stolen the warm beige tone of her skin, robbing her of some of her beautiful, vibrant appearance. Tears threatened to spill when I saw her, but I steeled myself for the task.
“Valentina, my dear girl, why have you summoned us? What have you done?” my mother asked, worry flitting across her eyes.
I looked at the three women before me and smiled. “I need your powers,” I said. “For only a few minutes.”
The ghostly women laughed at me.
Of course, those fools would.
I raised my left hand and twisted my fingers in a waving motion. Purple mists shot through and danced over the circle of light, tying their spectral forms to this plane, so they couldn’t flee to whatever dark hell Death took them to.
“Stop!” Katalina shouted. “This is forbidden.”
“Since when has that ever stopped our family before?” I mocked. “I know what I’m doing.”
My hands moved together quickly now, using more of my mists to seal any magic the women may have still possessed within the veil. My grandmother was shouting, her hands raised in fists. But I could no longer hear her or Katalina. Their voices were of no use to me, only their power.
My child, do not do this. You know the risks far too well. This ritual is beyond what we practiced. Do not be foolish. You can’t control him.
My mother’s voice rang clear in my head, but I ignored it. I pulled hard on those tethers of energy, snapping them into my own power, still alive through Rachel and the ring. Thank God. Closing my eyes, I began to chant again, a new spell harnessing the magic of the long-dead. I felt their energy grow strong within me. The tethers twisted into a thin, delicate rope of our blended powers.
There wouldn’t be much time; I had to do this now.
Keeping my left hand raised, I used my right to flip the book’s pages to another chapter, a different spell. The images on the pages grew darker and more twisted as I looked through them. My stomach flipped as my eyes landed on the spell I needed. The snarling face of a horned god at the top of the page.
Forgive me, Mother, I called out in my thoughts, knowing she would hear me through our shared gifts.
My relatives could no longer move, let alone speak. The spell held them in a frozen state, like sculptures. I closed my eyes, reaching deep within my wells of magic for that dark power I was born with—the kind that would have had me burned at the stake.
My fangs emerged, and I pricked the thick pad of my palm, smearing the blood over my skin. I pressed my hand against the page. My collected power surged to the surface, searing my veins. A sharp tug at my chest sent my body into a wave of pain.
“Shit!” I felt as though an icy fire was consuming me from within.
After a few seconds, the pain abated enough for me to move my hands from the book to the floor. The golden symbols that held my family continued to glow, holding that rope firm. I pushed all my magic, including my ancestors’, into the parted veil.
“King of the Unyielding Darkness, heed my call. Rise from the depths of the Underworld, where the shadows crawl. By blood and flames and broken souls, I summon thee.”
I opened my eyes, and my water magic took root. It rose from the floor in great misty columns above me, brushing against the ceiling. The clouds slowly circled the room, tiny droplets peppering the furniture and onto my upturned face. I quickly picked up the small hourglass and turned it, the blue-colored grains dripping slowly. Years ago, the hourglass was enchanted to snap a spell, no matter how strong. Once time ran out, so did the magic, and all connections would be severed.
“Lucifer, the Morning Star, bearer of tainted light, rise before me on this night.”
The lights in the library flickered rapidly before dimming, casting the room in a murky darkness. The glowing light of my summoning spell remained steady. Then I felt it. An icy, clawed hand reached through the veil and wrapped itself around my throat. But it wasn’t a threatening pressure, more like a possessive hold one would have on a lover.
“My beloved Queen,” his cold voice purred in the empty room. Lucifer’s voice was like a wave that gently lapped over me. Lust, power, and need consumed my blood, and his overwhelming presence pushed me back until I was lying on the floor. I held still as his other hand skated over my body, caressing every curve and sensitive spot.
“Stop,” I hissed, pushing at his hands, but his grip stayed firm on my neck. The bastard wanted me to submit, so I stopped moving.
“Much better. Now, why did you summon me, my love?” Lucifer asked, voice booming with authority.
“I need to locate my daughter.” Suddenly, fear overcame me. Mentioning Rachel to the entity that nearly destroyed his realm when I fell in love with Cyrus wasn’t the best idea. But I had no choice. “If she intends to remove my ring, I will lose my magic, making it impossible to track her down. My powers aren’t strong enough to do anything to find her right now. I need them returned to their natural state. Please. Make me a true witch again. Give them back.”
Lucifer’s lips were close to my ear, even though I couldn’t see him. His warm breath tickled my cheek. “Now, why would I do that?” he asked, laughing coldly. “With you being mostly powerless, it’s so much easier to control you. Until you’re back by my side for eternity, your full strength is mine.”
“You bastard.”
A surge of laughter echoed in my ears. Muffled shouting followed; the tethered spell holding my family members had slipped a little. They were slamming their fists against the light that held them, trying to reach me, to protect me. But I didn’t want protection; I wanted my damn magic back from Lucifer.
Even though he claimed me as his queen, I was not just his mate; I became a servant of his realm. When I foolishly slipped on his ring, I bound my magic to Hell. My powers, once a gift from the Upper World, no longer belonged solely to me. Lucifer tethered them to his command, along with my soul. The fragment I still possessed remained untarnished, but even that was slipping through my fingers.
A glance at the hourglass showed me the top half was almost empty. Time was running out. Rachel likely would remove the ring soon, leaving me blind to where she was going. Relying on a damn trinket to access my birthright was pathetic.
“My darling queen, I am so close to taking you back I can taste it. No longer will I have to wait for your eventual death to have you. Unfortunately, it’s not time. There is turmoil in the Underworld that requires my attention. But until then, I’m watching you.”
Fury clenched at my jaw, and rage burned up my spine. Goddamn you.
“Don’t bring Him into this,” Lucifer chided playfully, reading my thoughts. “He is too busy sitting on His hands while I disrupt the precious ‘balance of life’ as those sycophants above screech about.” A slick slide of his tongue ran over the skin between my breasts. The rope of power holding my mother and the others began to fray. “I’m coming for you, love. You’ll be where you belong soon enough.”
No.
There was a heavy pause, as if Lucifer was listening to something. “First,” he started again. “You need to address a problem outside.”
The last few grains of sand fell, and Lucifer and my spellwork vanished with a crack. The water magic above me collapsed, soaking me, but not the book. I looked around. The images of my matriarchs lingered for a moment. Their expressions were of horror and fury. My mother reached out but vanished like a wisp of smoke in the wind, leaving me alone. I was no closer to getting my full magic back.
“No!” I screamed. “Goddammit!” I picked up the still-dry Book of Shadows and hurled it across the room. It slammed against a shelf, and several pages broke free and fluttered to the floor. Rising to my feet, I wrung out as much water as I could from my clothes and hair.
I had barely taken a step toward the door, when it flew open, and Darius raced in. “Valentina!” he shouted. “We have intruders on the grounds!”
Panic seized me, and I ran toward him, taking his hand. “What’s happened?” I asked as we ran down the hall toward the front door.
Darius said nothing as he threw open the front door, and we raced into the night air. I saw movement at the front gate, and a handsome, young-looking man with wavy brown hair was holding his hands high. Red magic poured from his fingertips and brushed against the shield. He couldn’t get through.
“One foolish witch is trying to get inside? Kill him!” I ordered.
“Over there,” Darius hissed, pointing ahead.
Near the garden, shadowy figures emerged a few yards away, dragging something across the ground.
Oh no.
Tati was being dragged across the grass by the throat and, despite her immense strength, couldn’t break free. I looked at the man holding her, and a familiar face appeared.
Andrei.