Hunted Blood: A Love Triangle Vampire Romance (Beautiful Innocence Book 2)

Chapter 15 – Lorianna

I wake from the best sleep I’ve had in days with a smile on my face,and turn over with my eyes still closed, seeking Luke’s warmth and solid, muscular body. He was in my bed, but I kept dreaming of him, seeking new intimacies we haven’t explored together yet.

That’s a good sign, right?

But I open my eyes when I don’t feel him beside me. The bed is cold and empty, and so is the sting of disappointment. I blink away the remnants of sleep and let the sadness linger for a moment. I wanted to wake up by his side to talk about everything that we didn’t have time for last night, but he’s left me all alone. Again.

I sit up in bed and spot a glue vase on the bedside table. The sunflowers he brought me last night sit inside, the long golden petals seeming longer and fuller than last night after we crushed them while tumbling in bed. A sad smile curves my mouth at the time he took to put them in a vase for me, and that’s when I notice the curl of parchment hidden beneath the base. I flick on the lamp to give me some better light as I examine Luke’s handwriting.

My fingers brush over his words as I read, as if touching them could somehow bring me closer to him and help me understand why he’s gone.

Lorianna,

I’m sorry to leave again in a hurry, but I have urgent vampire hunter duties to attend to. I’ll be back as soon as I can, hopefully tonight.

With love,

Luke

With a sigh, I discard the paper onto the nightstand and lean against the wall in search of steadiness. I don’t know why I thought this time would be different. Luke’s always done this, except for the few brief weeks we spent together in bliss like an actual couple. But those moments of happiness and fulfillment are bracketed by lengths of mistrust and lies. Looking back on everything now, I understand why he didn’t tell me the truth. If I can’t blame Dad for not telling me about vampires—and he should have been able to trust his daughter, for fuck’s sake—isn’t it hypocritical for me to blame Luke for the same thing?

I do realize Luke’s stories have a glimmer of truth to them, too. The people the military has sent him after over the years must have been vampires. His missions, efforts to uncover the hiding places of covens like Aurelius’. But I still wish he’d been more forthcoming for the same reasons I wish Dad had been.

Even if he didn’t go so far as to tell me about the vampires, he could have told me more. He chose not to.

And now here we are again at the start of another back and forth. He tracked me all the way from LA to this isolated house in the woods of Thousand Oaks. Do I even want to know how he tracked me when I don’t have my phone?

Then he has the audacity to tell me that if I heard him out and don’t like what he has to say, he won’t bother me. When it finally felt like we were having an emotional breakthrough together, he shuts me up with a kiss and almost makes love to me.

And then he disappears, leaving me with more questions than answers.

It’s hard not to take ten steps back from the two steps forward we took last night. After everything he’s told me, is he still trying to manipulate me again? The only reason I don’t entirely run away is because I saw through Luke last night. When he told me he loved me for the first time, I felt how hard it was for him to say those words.

To let me in, just a little bit. To admit he had a weakness, and that weakness was me.

It was almost enough to melt all the walls of ice I’d hastily built between us since my home was ransacked. There was a part of him that was just as broken and hurt by everything that had happened as I was. And when I saw that part of him, I wanted to hold on. I wanted to go back to the way we were. I wanted to have a moment with him, to linger in our grief and be with each other as I hadn’t been with anyone else.

But he wouldn’t open up to me—not all the way.

He whispered tender things and promises and revelations of his soul, but he wouldn’t look straight at those wounds shared and try to heal them together.

If he’s trying to use me again, he’s not going about it in the smartest way. He should know by now that coming for a few hours and blowing me off the morning isn’t going to make me pine after him like a bewitched maiden. I don’t need him. I want him, and that’s different.

And right now, that’s where I stand. But it could have been different. Like so many times before, by the time Luke had me shivering with lust beneath him from the work of his tongue and fingers, he could have pushed my limits last night and made love to me. Real love. My emotional state had been vulnerable, and his love and displays of love had worn me down.

If he wanted me for sex or to get me close just to take more from me, would he really hesitate like that?

After all this time, I still don’t understand Luke. I wish I did. Every time he comes and goes, a little piece of me breaks away with him.

A soft tune plays on the radio in the kitchen as I dry the last breakfast plate and put it on the rack. I turn around to find Samira in a long emerald green dress, walking into the kitchen with a plastic basket filled with miscellaneous items in her arms.

“Oh good, I’m right on time,” she laughs as she places the basket on the table. “I thought it would take me a decade to find all the ingredients. I haven’t made charms like this in years.”

Her short hair is pinned behind her ears today, and it always strikes me how amazing she looks at all times, no matter what she’s wearing. It’s the same for Marionne, and I wonder if their effortless beauty comes because they’re witches. I’ve never felt half as good as they do without trying.

I dry my hands and move over to the table, pulling out a chair beside her. “You’re going to teach me charms? Really?”

“Today’s the day, my dear, and if you pull this off, I have a surprise for you, too.”

“I love surprises. What do I need to do?”

“Take some of those materials out of the basket first.”

There’s a small wooden box with several dark bottles with various liquids inside, half-melted candles in different colors, a long strip of leather, several swatches of linen, and more. I lay them out in a neat row in front of me and Samira while she sorts through a stack of papers.

It’s only been a day since I learned I’m a witch, but I’m constantly frustrated by my ineptitude. I know I’m learning, but it’s magic. I wish it felt more magical rather than like work all the time.

I’m glad I didn’t tell Luke anything about me being a witch last night. I have no idea what hunters think of witches or where witches fall within the conflict between hunters and vampires, and with Luke still being so come-and-go, whether he could keep that secret would have been another worry on my shoulders.

“Today, you’re going to learn how to make a protection and anti-tracking charm,” Samira explains. “This is a very simple, basic kind of protection, and it’s entirely passive. Once the spell is finished, you don’t need to worry about activating it or doing anything special to make sure you’re safe. So long as the charm is always on your person, and it’s undamaged, it will be active.”

“That sounds promising.” I lean closer to Samira to get a better look at what she’s doing. The sheets of paper she’s sorting are covered in all sorts of runes and sigils that I don’t recognize, but then she points to one I do recognize. “This is the one your mother used on those pictures; very simple runic components but very effective. You’ll want to spend a few minutes practicing the lines on the rune before we make the charm. Use this.”

“Marionne told me that speaking to plants was simple too, but I’ve had no success there.”

Samira chuckles. “You’re learning very fast. She told me you’ve been able to find the Well already, just that you haven’t had the pleasure of pulling from the Well to perform your magic. This might be a more natural method for you.”

She passes me a few sheets of blank paper and a pen, and I carefully copy the lines from the rune she’s circled on the sheet. I imagine my hands are Mom’s, moving the pen in a squiggly spiral before drawing a Y over the edges, down the middle, and past the bottom. It’s simple enough, and the motions are almost meditative once I have them memorized.

“Good. Now, you must decide the best material to preserve the charm and then seal the spell. Which of these materials do you think would best serve our purposes?”

I open my mouth to protest because I really have no idea and no experience with magic or charms at all. But I recognize the test for what it is. She wants me to come up with an answer on my own. So my mind whirls, pulling pieces of information she and Marionne have taught me over the past few days, including a few hints she gave me at the start of our lesson.

“To maintain the effectiveness of a charm like this, it’s something I’ll need to keep close to my person at all times—or something I can wear. What about cloth? I could make a bracelet. That way, I’m less likely to lose it.”

Samira nods encouragingly. “Well done, love. You’re a natural. And what do you think we should use as a seal?”

I look away from her and to the rows of materials in front of us. I pick up one of the little dark bottles, which has a neat label on the side reading pine sap, among other varieties of liquids in curious amounts. But it’s the ingredients that aren’t liquids yet that draw my attention. I pick a blue candle from the back row.

“Wax,” I say confidently. “It’s a material that’s been used with paper and cloth for a very long time, so we know it binds well. Plus, it’s easily accessible. If the seal were to be damaged, I could repair it.”

Pride glows on Samira’s face when she reaches for a swatch of linen, a piece that’s blue and flowery. “I told you, you know much more about our world than you’d expect. Magic is as natural as anything can be. Using the natural relationships between resources is where you will find magic to be the strongest.”

I take the cloth and grab one of the markers from the bin, grinning at her response. I love being in the garden with Marionne; it feels so natural. But with how my life has gone these past few years, items like fabric, pens, and wax feel so much more approachable to me. My very existence isn’t threatening another living being, and one mistake won’t kill a whole tomato plant. I might light some cloth on fire, but that’s no big deal in comparison.

I’ll learn it all eventually. But this place, right here, is where I’m going to take my first steps. I quickly but precisely draw the protective rune while Samira melts the wax. Once the candle is burning, it’s only a few moments before there’s enough pooling around the base of the flame. We don’t need much for a small charm like this.

“Now, to conduct the spell. In a simple charm like this, you don’t need to vocalize, but because you’re new to this, I’d recommend that you do to make sure that your intentions stay clear and that there are no potential misfires. Touch the rune with your forefinger and repeat after me.” She pauses to wait for me to do as she says, and I exhale as I place my finger on the rune. “Amora exite.”

“Amora exite,” I repeat.

There’s a slight fizzle beneath my finger, signaling the connection to the Well, but the magic still doesn’t move through me and into the charm. I take another deep breath, close my eyes, and focus my mind on the rune on the cloth.

“Amora exite.”

I can feel the tug and pull of the magic in me, connecting to the cloth and the ground beneath my feet, but a wave of exhaustion belts my face, and I cringe and lose focus.

“Shit.” I hold a hand to my forehead, trying to tell the spinning to stop.

“You’re close. Just breathe, love, and try again,” Samira encourages. “To rush is to make avoidable mistakes.”

I nod and take a moment to steady myself after the repeated failures drained some of my energy. I’ve memorized countless mathematical equations to succeed in a future business venture that’s no longer applicable to me; I know I can figure out how to cast spells and make magic work for me, too. I’ll rewrite the pathways in my brain to bring me closer to succeeding in the future that fate has decided for me instead.

This time, I rest my entire hands against the table, with both my index fingers placed on the rune. I shut down all other sensations and thoughts and let my mind and body focus only on those two points of contact. The rough point of the cloth against my fingers, the visualization of the two runes beneath them, and the shape of the words in my mouth.

“Amora exite,” I say the words slowly, making sure to enunciate each syllable.

A warm current flows through my fingers and into the cloth, a spark of electricity coming to life for the very first time. My instinct is to jerk my hands away, surprised by the new sensation, but I let the magic fly through me in a controlled river of energy, injecting my intentions into the cloth. The spell echoes in my blood and in my head, then the rune lights up with a faint blue glow before the black ink turns into a deep sapphire, and the light fades into the cloth.

Once the flow has stopped naturally, I pull away. “I did it,” I say, just as surprised as Samira is. “I didn’t think that would work.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Samira wraps her arms around my shoulders from behind, hugging me against her chest while I’m still seated. “This is quality work. You almost can’t tell it’s your first spell. Now, pour the wax over the runes to keep the enchantment in place.”

I take the blue candle from her hand and pour a thick glob of wax onto the runes. I spread it out a bit with the tip of a pen, then I fold the cloth over to seal the two sides together. A blue flickering light travels through the wax, so I know it’s working as intended. Once the wax has cooled, Samira takes the bracelet and brings it to my wrist so she can tie it for me.

“This will do just nicely for your surprise.”

I laugh. “I forgot about the surprise. I’m just so happy it worked.”

“I thought it would be nice if you had the chance to get out of the house and visit the city for a few hours. What do you say? There’s far too much for Marionne and I to teach you by ourselves, though we will do our best, but I know you’re worried about being able to protect yourself against all the threats out in the great big world.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to leave the house?”

“True, I said that, but you are a strong, independent woman. If we keep you trapped here, how much better are we than your father and Aurelius? Now that you have some protection against magical tracking and a way to detect if any vampires are near, we can make a minor concession to give you a bit more freedom.”

My fingers travel to the bracelet automatically. “It will let me know when vampires are near?”

“It will be like a tingling sensation in your wrist, sharp and sudden. You won’t be able to miss it.”

It’s so small, just being able to feel when vampires are near, but it’s enough to make me feel like I have a real chance at keeping myself safe out there. This is a huge gift, even if Samira doesn’t know it yet. And the fact that I finally did magic on my own! I’m practically on the moon. If I weren’t so exhausted from my failed attempts, I’d want to try something else now.

“Now, I have a secret to share. Promise you won’t tell my sister?” Samira says with a sly smirk.

“Depends on how bad the secret is,” I joke.

“Oh, I see where your loyalties lie. Duly noted, love, duly noted!” We both laugh, then she squeezes my shoulders. “There’s a library in town, one that used to belong to a coven of witches a very long time ago. Many of our ancestors relocated to this area, so there are many relics from the past in this area. It’s why we chose to move to Thousand Oaks when we were younger.”

“You mean there’s a whole library of magical books?”

“Not a whole library, no, but wouldn’t that be a delight? No, no, just a few selected tomes on occult knowledge that were rescued from overseas and any others that have wandered into the collection in the many years since. It’s a solid educational collection covering a broad range of topics but not so much as to fill a whole library. These books, although dangerous, are well protected by other local witches who act as their guardians.” Samira flicks a plastic card from under her sleeve and holds it out to me between two fingers. “I’ve arranged for an associate of ours to meet you at the library and ensure you have access to a certain number of beginner texts to learn our histories and different kinds of magics.”

“That sounds incredible.” I take the library card from her hand. “Can I go right now?”

Glancing out the window, the sky is dark with the threat of rain falling any minute now. Samira frowns. “Your car is too flashy to drive around without anyone looking at you twice. You’ll have to walk, and it’s about an hour away, so you might get rained on.”

I push out of my seat and throw my arms around her in another huge hug. “I’m not afraid of some rain. I’ll be back tonight. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“There’s no rush, love. You can stay as long as you’d like, perhaps call a cab back home if it gets too dark or continues raining into the evening. My friend at the library will keep me updated on your progress and inform me of when you arrive and depart. So, we’ll know you’re safe.”

I squeeze her tighter. Unlike so many other people in my life, who’ve always tried to make choices for me to keep me safe, Samira and Marionne have done everything they could so far to try and empower me. I miss my dad like crazy, but I think this is what he’d want.

Rain or shine, for me to be happy.

I’m hit with the scent of dust and old paper when I walk into the old library, but I breathe it in like an intoxicating perfume. It’s just as welcoming as the smell of rain on the grass outside, but in here, it’s much more warm and welcoming. I close my umbrella and shake it off outside before coming all the way in.

It’s been a while since I last came to a library, and I forgot just how magical they are. This one has huge stacks as far as the eye can see, reminding me of the library in my very own home. A pang of loss tightens in my chest. Will I ever see my home again? It’s not looking good.

I spot the front desk and force a smile onto my face. A little old woman sorts books behind the counter, reorganizing ones that have been returned to a bin. Her curly white hair ropes down her neck but doesn’t go past her shoulders. Her old eyes are crinkled with crow’s feet and suspicion as I hold out the library card to her.

“Hello, I was told I should show you this. Can you help me find a couple of books?”

The woman takes the card with a glare and doesn’t say anything. She drags it through a machine, which beeps when she pulls it out, and then hands it back to me.

The woman loses her suspicious glare and gives me a small smile instead. “Lorianna, I’ve been expecting you. It’s good to see another young witch join our ranks. Your aunt Samira told me exactly what you’ll need. Come with me.”

Without another word, she leads me from the front desk, through the winding library, into a back room that’s a lot like one of the study rooms I’m used to at university.

“I’ll be back with your books in just a moment. Have a seat.”

“Sure, thank you.”

I unhook my bag from my shoulder and place it on the chair beside me, then take a long gulp from my water bottle. Samira sent me along with a couple of juice boxes, some snacks, and an extra water bottle to last me until I get home. But I’ll probably just stay for a few hours and then walk back in time to make it for dinner, as I’m still so tired from practicing my magic.

A few minutes later, the librarian returns with a couple of large, old tomes and places them on the table. “Unless you receive special authorization, these books are to remain in this room at all times. Do not attempt to sneak them out because we will know. If you have any questions, you can find me at the front. Otherwise, happy reading.”

She’s terse, to the point, then she leaves. I’m happy to be on my own for a while, but it’s also reassuring to know there’s someone else in the building looking out for me and here to help if I need it. Samira and Marionne have been incredibly helpful so far, almost too helpful.

It’s about time I worked on my magic on my own for a bit. I won’t be able to rely on them or anyone else forever.

I get to work right away, pulling the book from the top of the pile, which reads A History of Witches. It seems like a good place to start, as ever since my aunts told me that I’m a witch and we come from a long line of them, I’ve wanted to know more about where I came from—where we all came from. What’s the real story about the witch trials?

I know the general details about that part of history—how women were burned at the stake, drowned, or executed after false trials that determined they had to be witches or were suspected of witchcraft. It makes me a little dizzy thinking about what my ancestors must have fled all those years ago and even more worried that there must have been many innocent women who were found guilty, too.

I flip to the first pages, which describe witches as enigmatic beings capable of tapping into the natural resources of Mother Earth by forging intimate connections with her through the Well of All Magic and the natural essence of magic that flows around all of us from the Well. I’ve learned most of this from Marionne already, but I didn’t know that witches have been around since time immemorial, appearing across hundreds of different cultures and civilizations. Many have fallen, but others have stood the test of time and still survive today.

By the year 1188, four Witch Queens had ruled Moldavia in peace and prosperity. They were the bloodline of the most powerful witch known to our histories, Witch Anis, who was so pure it was rumored she was the daughter of the sun goddess. Culture and literacy flourished in the era predating the rise of the fifth Witch Queen, Queen Daciana. Unfortunately, so too did the Holy Roman Empire rise on the back of brutality and violence.

As I read the histories, I’m enthralled by the storytelling. I didn’t realize that witches had existed for so long, and it makes me wonder where exactly my family came from. Samira and Marionne had briefly touched on the witch trials as an explanation for why I shouldn’t outwardly declare that I’m a witch. My thoughts keep wandering to my friends and the long hours we spent studying in the library. Lauren, Emma, and I spent more time exchanging memes and watching TikTok videos than actually getting any studying done.

But I miss them. Marionne and Samira promised to get a word through to let them know that I’m safe and needed to get away for a while, but will they believe that, or will reaching out just make them worry more?

Do they think I’ve abandoned them?

I try to focus on the reason I’m here and not what I don’t have any control over. I’m on the edge of my seat as I read about Queen Daciana and her reign, but given what I know about the witch trials, my interest is apprehensive as well as excited.

The Queendom of Moldavia threatened the Holy Roman Empire’s iron grip on Europe by retaining its independence. Though they could not directly attack Moldavia without severe consequences, the Holy Roman Empire saw an opportunity to seed doubt in the intentions of witches who mingled among humans. After all, was it not after the witches came in abundance that the days became colder, their harvests pitiful? And so the witch trials began circa the year 1321. No one emperor ever explicitly made the order—not that has been recorded—but the Holy Roman Church condemned witches as heretics. Women disappeared and were trialed and executed as witches whether they had magic or not. Neighbors turned against neighbors to protect themselves. Queen Daciana denounced the Holy Roman Empire, but her passive efforts were rendered useless by fear. She was forced to act.

“Holy shit, what?” I mutter under my breath as I read the next section. “Queen Daciana made vampires? Why would she do that?”

Beings of pure light and magic, vampires were extensions of the Queen’s will and determination to protect her people. She created the first vampires in the year 1321 from humans who were already trained to protect witches and were willing to devote a new, immortal life to continue to do so. However, the era of the Witch Queen ended in 1348 when Queen Daciana was kidnapped and burned at the stake in the Vatican. Europe quickly descended into a state of darkness—

I turn the page, eager to learn more, but the next page starts on another chapter unrelated to Queen Daciana. There is a fuzzy remnant left behind in the spine—the page was ripped out.

My blood runs cold, knowing that the Witch Queen Daciana met a violent end, but not what the consequences of that were. I can only guess. How in the world did vampires go from beings of pure light into creatures that drink blood and only come out at night? None of this makes sense without the next page.

Did someone take the page on purpose or is that just the consequence of it being an old book?

I chew my lip as I turn over the possibilities. Whatever happened on that last page, it has huge implications for how the world ended up as it is now. I’ll have to ask the librarian about it, or Samira and Marionne if she doesn’t give a satisfactory answer.

Without the ending, it’s the same story I’ve heard again and again: powerful women are seen as a threat by cruel, greedy men. Those women are chipped away at until they finally break.

But as I consider the patchy details that history has told me, I can’t help but wonder about Alex’s place in this story. I don’t know how old he is exactly, but I don’t think he’s been around since the origins of vampires. But is he old enough to have the secrets I’m being denied right now?

Alex has always been a kinder soul. He could be one of the lighter vampires, or what’s left of them. He’s always been my protector, and now that I know I’m a witch, a childish part of me imagines him as my protector and me his queen. I lay my head down on the book, imagining the two of us in a castle together, protecting me from the threats outside my door.

And while we wait… who knows what we could get up to?

Every breath threatens to pull me under, and with a sigh, I relax into the book, letting that dream of being with Alex sweet me away. He lowers me onto the bed, sucking on my neck before his fangs graze my throat… My protection charm vibrates around my wrist, but I’m too caught up in the dream to react.

“Lorianna, I missed you,” Alex murmurs into my ear, almost as if he’s right beside me.