Vampire’s Hearth (The Elements of Blood and Fate #1)

1. Aurora

Aurora

I was pretty sure the flames wouldn’t kill me. At least, not right now. The heat prickled on every inch of my exposed skin, but I focused on keeping my eyes closed and filling my lungs with air, drawing in the scent of charred earth and incense. I had to see this through, no matter how much the reason behind the ceremony terrified me.

“It’s almost over, Aurora.” The sound knotted my heart as tears stung my eyes. It was my mother’s voice, but only in my head. Or at least, what I imagined it would have sounded like—if I’d ever heard it. Her voice always called me Aurora, never Rory. It hung around me—an echo of what could have been and a reminder of the mother I never knew. I shoved the thoughts into forgotten corners of my mind and focused.

The flames died out as suddenly as they had sprung to life, leaving me shivering in the night air with a circle of ash surrounding me. Just beyond it, my coven’s joined hands formed an unbroken circle, every set of eyes on me with a silent intensity. I clung to the cold light of the moon and stars, their distant embrace my only shield. Even in a translucent ritual robe, I would have felt less exposed than sitting cross-legged and naked on the grass with every defense stripped away.

But wasn’t that the point? Fire first, to cleanse and purify, and remove any tarnish that would not help me on my quest. And next, the coven would bestow layers of protection around me—the strongest kind, the protection given by a blood sacrifice. My insides tingled with nerves.

The circle broke as the High Priestess Regent stepped forward, all eyes snapping to her. Her silver and gold bracelets clinked together in a soft, rhythmic heartbeat as she moved to hold her hands over the line of ash. As if the slightest movement could unravel the forces that separated our worlds, her eyes closed. In one swift motion, she leaned forward to help me stand, her breasts escaping the confines of her robes, reminding me of my nakedness. I shrank away from her until her necklaces dangled before my eyes, the pendant bearing the lynx symbol of our coven meeting my gaze with silent, ancient wisdom. My spine straightened as I clenched my jaw.

“Rise, my child,” she said.

I picked up the objects on my left—the ring, a circle of power and protection, and the athame, the blade of the black-handled ceremonial knife cold and sharp in my hand. Her firm grip pulled me from the earth as if drawing me from the realm of the dead, making my legs tingle. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and her smile radiated a warmth that touched the motherless void within me.

She set the ring flat in her palm before laying the athame between two fingers, the blade resting on the ring. We walked counterclockwise along the circle, our hands joined at shoulder height, hers steadying me more than I’d care to admit. I stayed inside the circle, her on the outside, our paired touch just above the ash line separating my world from hers.

“Just like the vampires should be in a separate world—hell , ” said my mother’s voice. The vampires, their evil a tarnish on the earth, were why I was undergoing the protection ritual. So many hunters had died in the past few years, all at the hands of one particular vampire. The hunters, the embodiment of good, walked the earth to counteract and stop the evil of the vampires. And then there was our coven, the Coven of the Blood. We held power over the life force the vampires craved and sought to balance good and evil, never allowing one side to overtake the other.

As we approached each coven member, the High Priestess Regent offered the athame without releasing my hand. Each woman grasped it, pricked her finger, and placed a drop of blood into the circle of the ring—her sacred offering added to the growing pool—before returning the knife. After the eleventh member completed her role, the High Priestess Regent offered me the dagger.

My hands trembled as I took the blade from her, and I caught her nod, a movement so slight I might have missed it had I not been studying each careful motion. I centered the tip of the athame above the ring’s center, where a pool of crimson had collected. I closed my eyes and gasped as I pierced the High Priestess Regent’s palm. Her blood mingled with the rest before she clenched the ring, her fist quivering as power surged through the metal. When she opened her hand, the blood vanished.

She guided my right hand to balance on her left as she spoke. “This ring, a token from your sisters, will guide and protect you as long as you wear it.” An involuntary tremor pulsed through my icy spine as she slid the ruby ring onto my fourth finger. “Now, return to our world.” She waved her hand over the ash circle in a gentle, undeniable command.

As I stood next to her, each coven member approached us, their faces solemn, their gestures the same—a slight bow of the head, a hug, each embrace echoing the bond we share, and a murmured blessing before my sister witch left the circle.

“May your journey be safe.”

“Peace go with you.”

“Goddess guard you.”

Each of the eleven blessings added a layer to the protection I felt wrapping around me. After the last embrace, I followed the stream of witches, leaving the High Priestess Regent to close the circle with a last prayer. We walked with reverence from the clearing, the ritual echoing in our minds, wondering what came next.

“Aurora, you know what comes next.” My mother was insistent tonight, but she was right. Tomorrow, I was going to Kentucky. Just days ago, a coven from Charleston had arrived with a warning. The vampire there was becoming more powerful and more influential. Then, in a vision, our High Priestess Regent saw an object hidden in a cave.

The voice echoed in my head. “And the way to stop him.” I closed my eyes, the weight of the knowledge causing my shoulders to tense. The vampire had killed every hunter who went against him because a stake to the heart did not affect him. Whatever hid in the cave would give us the upper hand against him. I was the one entrusted to find it and bring it back. Nausea bubbled in my stomach. If only they could have given us any information about who he was before they returned—even his name.

I drew in a long breath as I walked, the beauty of the field surrounding me with its green canopy created from old-growth cypress and oak draped in Spanish moss, the fragrance of the Southern florals calming me. The irony was sharp. This field, one of Georgia's most sought-after wedding venues, looked to many bridal couples like a place of joy and union. In truth, it concealed a sanctuary of blood and ancient rites, a place that hid secrets beneath its romantic facade.

The path I walked wound from the field to an old renovated barn, which provided changing rooms on the first floor. The coven used the rooms we would normally provide to a besotted bride and groom. Each grouping had a designated room—maidens in the bridal suite, mothers in the mothers’ room, and crones in the groom’s library. The separation was a custom as old as the coven, marking the passage of time and roles.

I sighed as I pushed open the heavy wooden door, feeling the remnants of the ritual’s power tighten in my chest. The chandelier in the cream bridal suite bathed it in a warm white light. I crossed my arms over my stomach, wanting nothing more than to sink into one of the comfortable armchairs that sat in a circle around the coffee table, but there was no time. Coven members getting changed already occupied several of the six vanities dotting the walls.

I approached a deep blue velvet chaise lounge—one of many situated between the vanities—with my clothes folded and stacked with exacting care at the end, my nakedness the last vestige of the ritual. I ran my finger along the band of the ruby ring before grabbing my black silk panties from the pile.

As I slid the soft material over my thighs, I swallowed air. Why choose me to go? It was a simple endeavor. Go to the caves Amara saw in her vision. She had even located an old map of the cave system among some of the coven’s belongings. Once there, use intuition and magic to locate a hidden object, then bring it home. Locating the object was the hardest thing because when Amara tried to divine what the object was, her vision went black. But the blood of the coven should be powerful enough to locate it once a witch was close enough.

I glanced around the room before grabbing my skirt. Almost any of these women could take my place, one who hadn’t already proven her inadequacy to the coven. And if I couldn’t find whatever it was, would the vampire amass enough of a following to destroy us all? A shiver ran through me, and goose bumps rose on my arms as I snapped the waistband button closed. I stared at my shirt, unmoving.

“Rory, are you okay?” I blinked, the question floating past me. “Rory?”

I turned toward the voice and nodded at Jade, my closest friend since we were toddlers. “I’m sorry. My head is still foggy. I’m sure it’ll clear up after the feast. Do you know what we’re having?”

Jade slipped on her shirt. “I don’t, but I’m starving. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know until just before the meeting. I knew someone was going but didn’t know it would be me. We’ll do something before I leave—promise.” I threw on my shirt before straightening my hair and folding my unused robe, the fabric slipping through my fingers as I placed it in my bag.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Jade’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she hefted her bag. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” I slung my bag over my shoulder before we made our way to the end of the hallway. My mind hummed as we walked up the stairs.

Oak Leaf Hallow’s banquet space glowed in the flickering candlelight. The plantation had belonged to the High Priestess or her heir for as long as the coven had been in the United States. The aroma of the old, drying barnwood mingled with dinner spices and the yeasty smell of homemade bread as I reached the top of the steps with Jade on my arm. My mouth watered at the sight of the freshly baked loaves nestled among the bowls of salad on the long table.

As we crossed the dance floor, memories of her and me as children dressing up as princesses elicited a nostalgic smile. We would glide across this same floor, pretending a handsome prince had just rescued us. A warmth flooded my heart as I caught my friend’s gaze. I let my bag slip from my shoulder, feeling a small wave of relief as it landed with a soft thud against the wall. My eyes scanned the thirteen place settings of crystal and silver-rimmed china, and I found my place card at the foot of the table—just as expected. Thankfully, Jade’s place was to my right, a comforting presence that would make the formal dinner feel less daunting and allow our discussion to continue uninterrupted.

The din of conversation pressed on my ears as the other core members of the Coven of the Blood joined Jade and me near the table. We believed ourselves descendants of the same ancestral line of witches. Still, time had swallowed the truth long ago—a truth I longed to uncover, especially when I felt so severed from the others because I was the only one with no immediate family.

As the High Priestess Regent appeared, the conversation lulled, and all eyes turned to her. Though in her late forties, the goddess had blessed her with the illusion of youth. Her black hair was piled high on her head, strands rebelliously escaping the pins meant to contain them. Her porcelain skin appeared unmarred by age, as if time had forgotten she existed. She approached her role with a dignity I feared I would never find.

When she reached me, her arms encircled me in a warm embrace. “Your mother would be so proud of you for taking on this quest.” I forced a smile to my lips as my chest tightened. “And when you come back, we’ll start your training. It’s almost time.” Her fingers brushed the lynx pendant resting against my chest, a smaller version of hers. Its weight always reminded me that my twenty-fifth year—and my destiny as High Priestess—was fast approaching.

A small pit of emptiness formed in my stomach. “Aurora, you will succeed,” said my mother’s voice. Love filled the pit. My mother had been a formidable High Priestess, as had her mother, my grandmother, and the entire matrilineal line of women who started when our coven formed. Would I ever be ready to follow in their footsteps?

“Aunt Amara, starting at my birth, everything went wrong. How is the coven supposed to survive beyond me?”

She took my hands in hers, bending her knees and smiling at me. “The goddess has a plan, and we’ll patiently wait to see it. Right now, we have to focus on finding what is in that cave. A world without that vampire will restore the balance for the hunters.”

I glanced at the ruby ring, its blood-red stone pulsing with life, urging me on. “Do you think we’re close to finally being able to end this?”

She nodded. “I know we are. Then we can return to being ordinary witches without a divine purpose. Maybe that’s why the cycle of death ended with you.”

A pang of bitterness cut through me—I wished the cycle had not ended with me, that I had inherited more than just the emptiness where my mother should have been. But perhaps it meant I wouldn’t die young, which would be a small mercy. That was the curse of our High Priestess—doomed to die during the birth of her second daughter. Her sister would take up the mantle as High Priestess Regent until the first daughter reached twenty-five and assumed the role of High Priestess. But my mother died giving birth to me—not just her first daughter, but her first child. Since then, my aunt had served as High Priestess Regent, waiting for me to reach the age I could claim the coven as my own. She had raised her own daughter, Lyra, as my sister, ready to lead the coven should I succumb to the same fate as the High Priestesses before me.

Aunt Amara placed her hand on my cheek before taking my hand. “Come. You’ll feel better after you eat.” We walked toward the table, her voice ringing loud and clear through the barn. “Ladies, shall we feast?” she asked with an enormous smile, holding her free hand in the air before gesturing for me to part from her.

The coven members stood behind their chairs, waiting for Amara and me to take our seats—her first at the head of the table, then me at the foot, followed by the rest of the coven. My inner child giggled, wondering how long I could remain standing before Aunt Amara commanded me to sit. With choreographed precision and a rustle of skirts, we sat. Amara smiled at me before turning to Lyra, who sat to her right. Lyra glanced at me with ice in her gaze. I looked at those who sat closest to me, ignoring her.

The eldest crone of our coven, Valentina, sat to my left. Her daughter, Willow, sat between her and her granddaughter, Ruby, who, at sixteen, was our newest coven member. I smiled at them, envious of the unbroken lineage.

“It was a beautiful ceremony tonight,” Valentina said with a smile before she turned toward me. “Do you have more to do before you leave?”

I shrugged. “Auntie had me pack almost everything earlier. The athame will still need to go in my bag, but I think that’s it.”

“Your mother would be so proud of you for this. She always used to tell us it would be her daughter who broke the curse.”

I looked down at the table, my chest tightening. “I don’t see what this has to do with the prophecy.”

Ruby’s young eyes became wide. “What prophecy?”

Her grandmother cleared her throat, taking a sip of water before turning to her. “The curse of the High Priestess will be broken by the daughter who must be sustained by blood.”

Ruby smiled at me. “Are you going to become a blood-sucking vampire, Rory? Hoping for eternal youth?”

I laughed, tilting my head and curling my lips mischievously. “Hardly. We can keep ourselves young on our own if we want. You just have to look at Amara to see that.” My tone became thoughtful. “Besides, vampires have done enough to determine the destiny of this family.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “If I never have to worry about another vampire after this, it’ll be too soon.”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Dad would be home more often, wouldn’t he?”

“I should hope so,” answered Willow, her gaze distant and smile tinged with longing. “I’m awful tired of going to bed alone.” Her husband, Jack, was a vampire hunter who seemed to be on the road more often than at home.

“These are things I don’t need to know,” said Ruby with a laugh.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t ask,” quipped her mother.

I laughed at the two women’s verbal sparring, in awe of their relationship. “I wonder if my mom and I would have been as close as you two?” I mused to no one in particular.

“You still are close,” said Valentina, handing me the salad. “You just need to reach out to her.”

I concentrated on moving some salad to my plate to ignore the emptiness in my heart. “It isn’t the same as waking up with a mother to make me breakfast. It is more like making a supernatural phone call. I don’t even know if her voice is real or the one I’ve made up for her in my head.”

“Whichever it is, I’m sure it’s beautiful, just like your mama was.” Valentina laid her hand on my forearm and gave it a tiny squeeze.

I looked at her with a small smile and placed my hand over hers, struggling to hold back tears. My mother never would have made it to today, even if I hadn’t killed her. She would have died years ago during the birth of my sister. I clenched my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and returned Valentina’s squeeze, grateful for her presence. She was like the grandmother I never had, either. Life as the High Priestess Heir of the coven of the Blood was lonely.

“Excuse me, miss. Drinks.” The tuxedoed server stood to my left between Valentina and me, carrying a tray of drinks. His eyes squinted, focusing on the glasses as he set champagne and wine in front of me with a sigh.

“Thank you, Jason,” I said with a slight bow of my head. I dropped my eyes to my plate so I didn’t stare at his broad shoulders. He moved to Jade with her drinks and continued down the table. My eyes followed his ass as he made his way around. I smiled into my glass, admitting to myself how badly I needed a man again, but as the plantation owner, I was technically his employer, so I would have to look elsewhere. I had gone to bed alone for too long as well.

Aunt Amara rose as the servers made their way to the kitchen, her champagne glass catching the dim light, her voice carrying the weight of centuries. “I would like to propose a toast—to Rory, who is leaving us tomorrow to complete the next leg of our coven’s journey. We don’t even know if restoring the balance is possible, but we must pray to the goddess it is. The longer the unkillable vampire walks the earth, destroying the hunters whom we have allied with, the more our loves and our fathers are in danger.” Willow and Ruby bristled beside me as Amara continued, her eyes softening. “We did not know taking a stand against the vampires would unleash a terrible curse on our coven and cause the untimely death of our High Priestess for generations to come, but today, as our High Priestess Heir sets out on this journey, we know we are one step closer to achieving our goals. Rory, we know you will return to us because our coven would be lost without you, and our mission would have failed. Return soon, my child.”

Heat rose in my cheeks as I stood, thankful for the low lighting. “If that isn’t a charge for me to follow, I don’t know what is.” I chuckled while trying to think of what to say, beyond embarrassed. “I leave you all with my love and light. Until we meet again.” I raised my glass a little higher, and the rest of the table followed.

The tension unwound from my muscles as breath trickled from my lips, though the shadows of our fate lingered, pressing against the edges of my consciousness. I wondered if the others were as tired as I was as I shoveled forkfuls of salad into my mouth. Laughter erupted from the other end of the table, drawing my attention. But my aunt only smiled at me with a slight nod, leaving me curious.

The rest of dinner went by in waves. A delicate vegetable soup and bread were the precursors to a sumptuous chicken entrée with steamed broccoli flavored with a white wine sauce. Knowing me well after working together, Jason brought me a plate with only a small serving of chicken since it was good but not my favorite. After finishing my strawberry shortcake, I set my fork on the table, my stomach stretched to capacity.

Aunt Amara glanced around the table and stood again. I clenched my jaw as she spoke, ready to retreat to the main house and my bed after such a long day. “Ladies, as always, I hope you enjoyed the feast, and I will see you at the next ritual. Blessed be.”

“Blessed be,” I muttered, relieved as our meal ended.

Everyone was welcome to stay as long as they liked—Auntie even had a few spending the night at the house. If Scarlett didn’t stop drinking like she was, she would stay whether she wanted to or not. I wouldn’t be surprised if Belladonna produced her tarot deck soon and asked who wanted to play cards. I wasn’t in the mood to stick around for the festivities tonight. I wanted to spend the time with my friend instead.

“Jade, should we go for a walk?”

She nodded, finishing her drink. “What about our bags?”

“I’ll ask Auntie if she can take them with her.” I walked to the head of the table, where Aunt Amara was talking with Lyra and Eloise. “Excuse me, Aunt Amara. Would you be able to get Jade’s and my bags? We’ll walk back to the house if that’s okay.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Do we look like we’re here to serve you?”

“Lyra, don’t speak to your future High Priestess that way,” her mother chastised her. Lyra turned away from me before Amara continued. “Certainly, dear. Just be sure you’re ready to leave in the morning.”

I kissed her cheek. “I will be. Thank you.”

“She isn’t High Priestess yet,” muttered Lyra under her breath as I turned my back on her mother. I could envision Aunt Amara shaking her head and giving Lyra the side-eye. I touched the silver disk hanging around my neck. Lyra was right that I was not the High Priestess, but I smiled at the fact she never would be. At least, not as long as I eventually produced an heir.

I reached Jade, standing on the dance floor, and smiled. “All set?”

She nodded and headed out the front door. As I followed her, stepping into the night air, the summer humidity hit me, so thick my lungs burned like I inhaled the ghost of steam from a quenched fire. The woody smell of the trees, carried on the droplets of moisture, clung to my skin. I glanced at the starlit sky one last time before lacing my arm through Jade’s and stepping with her onto the dirt path lined with trees, the Spanish moss sparkling under the night sky.

I hugged Jade a little closer as we walked over the soft path of fallen leaves. “What am I going to do without you?”

Her laughter echoed through the forest. “You’ll be fine. It’s not like I won’t call you.” She leaned her shoulder on mine. “Just be careful. I don’t want the next time I see you to be in a coffin.”