15. Aurora
Aurora
M ac picked up my bag, his movements deliberate and precise. He held his hand toward me in a silent invitation. I accepted, feeling the warmth of his touch as he helped me rise. With my crutches in hand, I followed him up the steps before hobbling to the front door. The wide front porch creaked beneath our feet as we crossed into the house.
“How did you even know I was leaving?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“I was swimming and experienced an unusual sensation—an almost fainting spell.” He glanced at me as he dropped my bag onto a hall tree.
Concern laced my voice as I lurched closer. “That’s awful.”
His shoulders twitched as a small smile played at the corners of his lips. “I am a vampire; I would have survived.”
His smile caused my knee to feel weaker than it already was. “True,” I said, watching him, wondering if deep down I had always known of his human half and that was the part I was drawn to—wanted to know.
“It was not just physical,” he continued, his voice thoughtful. “It was a vision—a premonition of you leaving the house precisely as you were. Something compelled me to get dressed and go to the drive.”
My brow furrowed. “Has this happened before?”
Mac pressed his lips together, shaking his head as though he was taking the time to skim through his long life. “It happens rarely, always near water and with events of extreme consequence.”
“Any water?”
He smiled. “For most of my life, it’s been natural water. Indoor plumbing is a relatively recent invention.”
“I suppose that’s true,” I said, the corners of my mouth curling. “But why would a vampire have premonitions?”
His blue eyes narrowed. “Could it be related to my human half? Perhaps there’s a connection to witchcraft, as I always suspected?”
The question lingered as Mac pulled the lineage from my bag and led me into the parlor, allowing me to go before him with the chivalry of a time gone by. I sat on the antique pink settee lined with a dark wood that matched the paneling around the room and leaned the crutches against the seat next to me. Mac’s eyes flitted to them blocking the seat next to me, and his face fell a bit before he set the lineage on the coffee table and walked to another seat. Did he want to sit with me? Moving the crutches now would be much too noticeable.
“I can’t tell you if you have witch blood,” I admitted, my gaze drifting through the front windows. “But your logic doesn’t make sense. You have to be living to tap into your ancestral craft, but you’re not—technically—I think.” I struggled to wrap my head around his revelation and the idea that he had never succumbed to death.
Mac looked at the floor. The old leather armchair he sat in creaked as he leaned back, his fingers absently tracing the intricate patterns on the worn armrest. “I am neither completely alive nor completely dead. It seems impossible for me to understand, and there’s no one left to ask.”
I nodded. “What about your parents?” I asked, keeping my words soft and measured, not wanting to invite myself into a potentially turbulent relationship.
He brought his gaze to mine. “My parents disappeared over a hundred years ago. Occasionally, though not often enough, I hear from them,” Mac said, his voice laced with a mixture of longing and resignation. “I can’t even tell you with certainty where they are right now.”
My heart ached for him, and I sighed. Here was a man who had a family and longed for them to be with him, and I threatened to pull away what he saw as the one hope he had. My eyes fell on the lineage, an unbroken family line, a family like the O’Cillians. Even though the stories exposed them as ruthless monsters, they had been together for a thousand years, beside each other, navigating their immortal lives. Everything I was denied for even a fraction of the time. “I wonder if my aunt would know anything?”
He raised his eyebrow, that slight smirk on his lips again. “You think the High Priestess Regent would share the answer if she even knew?”
“It was a thought.” I shrugged as an uneasy silence settled over us before I took a deep breath. “What if we tried to coax a premonition to reveal what will happen?”
He shrugged before folding his hands. “It’s not something I’ve ever been able to control, no matter how much I have wished for it.”
“Probably because you don’t know where it comes from,” I reasoned, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, careful to keep the pressure off my injured foot. “Without knowing, the gift will simply appear when most needed.”
Mac nodded, and I could see the gears turning in his mind. “That seems logical.” He drew in a sharp breath, the sound of the air rushing through his lips. “Enough about me. How do we proceed with all of this—finding the Cure?” He gestured at the table.
“If we’re doing this my way...” I removed the pendulum from my neck, picked up the lineage from the table between us, and laced the chain through the leather strap, holding the book closed.
“How will that help?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“This isn’t the only thing I need,” I explained, a hint of a smile curving my mouth as my heart fluttered. “I also need a map of the world.”
“I believe there’s one in the office,” he said, standing.
Heat rose in my cheeks as I watched the perfection of his ass as he walked to the office. He reached above him on the wall, his abdominal muscles stretching and contracting to remove a framed artifact. I bit my lip, trying to ignore what the image did to my body.
“I hope this suffices,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant, as he placed the frame on the table before me, his gaze catching mine and holding it.
“This will do just fine,” I said with a laugh, pulling my eyes from his and looking over the map from the mid-eighteen hundreds. “The earth hasn’t changed.”
He crinkled his forehead.
“I’ve worked with worse,” I said.
He watched as I held the lineage above the map, my heart racing as the pendulum began to swing. With a sudden thud, it fell to the table, and we both jumped at the sound.
“That’s strange,” I murmured, leaning in closer. “It looks like it’s pointing to the middle of Kentucky, right where we are.”
Mac’s confusion mirrored my own. “How can that be?”
“Let’s try again,” I said, slipping off my ring and threading the pendulum chain. “Perhaps we need more power.”
I held my breath, my heart pounding. The pendulum swung in my hand, the black obsidian reflecting the surrounding light. If I weren’t working on something so crucial, the dancing rays would have been mesmerizing. I felt it pull toward the map again, falling with a solid thud.
“It’s still pointing here,” I said.
Mac raised an eyebrow. “You’re certain it’s pointing at this exact location?”
I shrugged. “It is hard to tell with the size of the map. Maybe it is the caves again. Is there any chance you have a map of the country or the state?”
“Yes, let me retrieve it.” Mac stood and headed back to the office. He returned holding a map of the area.
He pointed at the crutches next to me. “May I?”
My heart fluttered. I hoped he couldn’t see the effect his request was having on me. I nodded, the words refusing to form. He moved the crutches to rest on the arm of the sofa on the other side of me.
“Don’t laugh,” he said, placing another framed document in front of me before sitting at my side. His arm brushed mine, sending a wave of warmth through me. His eyes caught mine. Had it been intentional?
“How old do you think this map is?” I asked, tearing away from his gaze and stifling a chuckle.
He sighed. “We likely purchased it when we bought the house. My mother had a fondness for things like this. She always wanted to show people where they were and where they were going.”
“Well, it has what we need.” Holding the book above the map, I allowed the pendulum to swing again. I concentrated on finding the next puzzle piece, pushing the question of my feelings for Mac to the back of my mind. Once again, the pendulum dropped to the map, right over where Mac and I sat.
“Impossible.” I turned to him with my brows knit together. “Are there any blueprints for the house?”
Mac smiled. “Do you believe there’s something within these walls that could lead us to the Cure?”
“That’s what the pendulum suggests, and I trust my magic.” I’d never had this many issues dowsing in the past, and it made little sense. Were my feelings for him clouding the answers?
He shrugged, put his hands on his knees, and pushed himself to stand. “Very well. Let’s explore the office.” He reached around me and handed me my crutches.
This time, I joined Mac as he rose and walked back into the office. I folded the book under my arm and limped my way after him, annoyed by the length of time it took for me to reach the doorway. My damn ankle. Was Evangeline right?
I glanced around the room. Mac stood in front of one of the many shelves of books, moving them around. I finally forced out a question, my voice strained. “Evangeline mentioned vampire blood could heal my ankle. Is that true?”
Mac nodded but continued searching. “It can.”
“Then why didn’t you offer it to me?” I asked, my eyes narrowed.
Mac stopped in his tracks and turned to face me, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his head tilted. “I didn’t think you would be interested. You are, after all, a witch.”
I looked into his blue eyes, searching for any hint of a lie. “I didn’t know it would heal me.”
Mac gestured to a chair in front of the desk, ignoring the conversation. “I have friends I could contact who might help us locate the Cure instead of using magic.”
“Who are they?” I asked as I sat down. Why would he not just talk to me about his ability to heal me? Was he worried about something else?
Mac opened and closed cabinets, searching. “A woman who studies anthropology. I’ve collaborated with her often. She might be able to assist us.”
“Just a woman?” I tilted my head and tried to play it off but could not ignore the pang of jealousy in my chest.
He swung around to look at me. “Yes, to me, just a woman. She is, however, the mate of one of my closest friends.” I noticed the strain in his voice as he mentioned she was his friend’s mate, as though something was missing, something he longed for.
“What do you mean by ‘mate’?” I asked. It couldn’t be the same as a soul mate. Vampires were not known for loving one another, but he had mentioned it with his mother as well.
“They are destined partners, bound for as long as she desires. He has offered to turn her, but she has not yet accepted.”
“And what about him? Does he truly care for her? Or is something else keeping them together?”
Mac’s eyes searched my face. “You mean, do they love each other as my parents do?”
I gave him a slight nod, my stomach in a knot, afraid to hear confirmation that his kind doesn’t love, only keeps around a human whose blood can sate them daily. “You said that your mother is the oldest living vampire mate. What does that mean?”
He walked to the chair beside me and sat, leaning toward me. “When we find someone we wish to spend eternity with, we have the ability to remain by their side. My parents have been together for nearly a thousand years. Declan and Isla found each other last year.” His words were soft with a reverent quality.
“But I always thought vampires were self-serving and unconcerned with others’ feelings.” I cringed as I spoke after everything Mac had done to help me over the past few days. But he was half human. Maybe that changed things.
Mac’s chuckle drifted around me, calming my queasy stomach. “Not quite. While it is uncommon to find a vampire with a mate, it does not mean we are indifferent to the idea. Often, it is simply easier not to find one, as the pain of loss is something we endure for centuries.”
“But why not turn your mate?”
Mac shrugged. “Some choose not to turn. They prefer to die instead. Others remain human, vampire blood allowing them to stay with their intended. It is an intensely personal choice for each couple.”
“And you’ve never found a mate?” I asked, a titter escaping my lips after the question—a question I had no right to be asking.
Mac shook his head. “I have never desired one.”
“So, in over eight hundred years, you’ve never fallen in love?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I did not say that. But no, there has been no one I’ve loved to that extent.” His voice was soft and contemplative as he caught my gaze.
My heart fluttered, and I resisted the urge to turn from him. Could he tell why I asked?
His eyes lifted to a shelf over my shoulder, and they brightened. “Now, here are the plans for the house.” He rose from his chair and dashed to the shelves, returning with a large portfolio that he handed me.
I ran my fingers over the front cover, feeling the place where it appeared time had worn away a symbol. The bottom of it felt like a heart, but I couldn’t tell what the top would have been. Mac watched with an intensity I didn’t understand, and it was then I caught the slight burn around my ring.
I looked into Mac’s eyes, but his pupils remained still. If he were attempting to compel me, his pupils would be moving, trying to tap into my mind.
“What was here?” I asked, continuing to trace my fingers over it, concerned with the telltale sign in my hand that my ring worked against an unknown magic.
Mac’s frown was almost indetectable. “An old family crest.”
“For your family?”
“A story for another day. Right now, we need to focus on the Cure.” He guided the protective cover to the desk and opened it to reveal the drawing for the floor we sat on.
I clenched my jaw, about to argue, until I saw Mac’s determination to move on. “Okay.” I took a cleansing breath, clearing my thoughts. I held the pendulum above the blueprints. It swayed as though caught in a gentle breeze and then settled onto the drawing where the desk would be, pointing at a spot beside it.
I bit the inside of my lip, thinking, before taking a deep breath. The same thing had happened at first in the cave, the pendulum pointing at Mac instead of the lineage. I clenched my jaw. How was I supposed to say this and not sound ridiculous? “This is pointing at something in this house. And if I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s pointing directly at you.”
“Well, I am certainly not the Cure.” Mac smirked, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps away.
“But it suggests that we need you to find it.” My mind was screaming. Was I confusing the need for him to assist in finding the Cure with feelings for him?
He shook his head. “How could that be? Allow me to send Isla a photo of the lineage and see what she knows.”
In silence, I opened the lineage on top of the blueprint. I couldn’t deny him this because, even to me, it made no sense. Mac held his phone above it, snapped a photo of each page, and sent a text.
Only one other person might know. I gritted my teeth, apprehension at calling her and at the situation opening a pit in my stomach. What did Mac have to do with the O’Cillians that he was required to find the Cure related to their family? “I should probably call my aunt and let her know I’m all right and won’t be coming home just yet,” I said.
Mac nodded. “Go ahead. Unless you plan to return to your room and lock me out again.”
I tilted my head. “How—“
He shrugged before he spoke without a care. “I felt the magic as I passed your door.”
I gave him a half smile. “It’s not that kind of phone call.”
“Understood,” he said, his voice softening. “Before you call, would you like to heal your ankle?”
I shivered at the thought followed by a slight thrill. The idea felt so foreign and intimate. I couldn’t hide the nervousness in my voice. “Will it have any other effects?”
“You must be cautious until the blood metabolizes, but it shouldn’t take long. If you die with vampire blood in your system, then...”
“Then what?” My chest tightened because I knew the answer, but I needed to hear it—hear how the idea of it affected him.
Mac stared deep into my eyes, his gaze soft as though there were words yet unspoken. I had to strain to hear him speak. “You will no longer be a witch. You will become a vampire, and you’ll have twenty-four hours to decide whether to feed or perish.”
The way he spoke struck something inside me, as though it was a position he would never want to see me in—a choice he would never ask me to make. My throat tightened. “What about those mates who don’t wish to turn but are injured? They must have vampire blood in their system, right?”
Mac nodded. “And sometimes that is how they choose to die. They cannot bear the thought of consuming living blood.”
I glanced at my ankle. It wasn’t painful, but it was hindering our progress. And I couldn’t deny the intimacy of the act drove me forward as well, as I remembered being cradled in his arms with my head lying on his chest as he took me from the cave. My heart fluttered as my stomach knotted. “Would you? Please,” I said, my tone almost formal but unable to form all the words.
How would this happen? Would he want me to take it from him?
My thoughts raced as Mac moved to a crystal decanter set and retrieved a glass. He bit into his wrist, a stream matching the stone of my ring cascading into the glass. He returned to stand in front of me, his eyes holding my gaze with an unspoken question. I raised my hand and laid it on the cool crystal, my fingers brushing his, sending butterflies through my stomach.
“Well-aged.” He smirked as he let go.
I struggled to break away from his eyes as I held the elixir for what felt like an eternity. I looked at it, then at him, and lowered it in front of me, a hand gripping my heart as I stared at the crimson liquid.
“You only need the smallest sip.” His voice projected such a calm that I focused on my ring. There wasn’t a hint of burning in my finger as I realized I trusted him to guide me in the right way, this vampire I’d known for such a short time.
I raised the glass to my lips and sipped, my throat tight, anticipating a rancid assault. It had a subtle flavor, like saltwater taffy with an earthy undertone, and was thick as molasses. My body shivered, a sense of euphoria gripping my heart as Mac’s blood rolled down my throat, tingling, filling me with calm. After just a taste, I wanted more. I struggled to pull his essence from my lips and to keep my face steady as I set it down. “How will I know if it’s working?”
Mac was about to answer when my ankle prickled.
“Never mind.” I smiled at him as I reached for my phone and dialed my aunt’s number. Mac stood next to the desk near my chair, his hands resting at his sides, a blank expression on his face. Did he regret what he had just done? I certainly did not, my insides warm, my heart beating steadily in gratitude.
Amara answered before the first ring finished. “Aurora Silverstorm, that better be you.”
“Hi, Aunt Amara,” I said, the taste of the blood sweetening my tongue. I wanted to close my eyes and savor the remnants of it.
Her voice was sharp. “Where are you? Evangeline said you were on your way home. And you’re bringing a lineage?”
I shrugged. “Change of plans, again.”
“Are you still with that vampire?” I struggled to interpret her tone. Was she annoyed or concerned?
I caught Mac’s look as I replied. “Yes, there’s been some developments here.”
“But you’re coming home?” Aunt Amara asked, her concern clear this time.
“Not yet,” I replied. “We’re getting conflicting readings on the next step to finding the person Mac believes the lineage is directing us to.”
“Rory, there are so many things in that sentence.” I was sure she was shaking her head. “What do you mean by conflicting readings?”
I took a deep breath, focusing on the issue and not analyzing her feelings. “Every time I use my pendulum, it points back to Mac. He seems required to find the Cure, but that doesn’t feel right.”
Aunt Amara’s voice was firm. “I’m sending Lyra. Tell me your location; she’ll arrive within a few hours.”
I glanced at Mac and sputtered, “I’m not sure that’s necessary, Aunt Amara. I don’t think—”
“No,” she interrupted. “She’s coming to assist.”
I sighed as I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have to tell you where I am; she’s already nearby, isn’t she?”
“You know me well, child,” Amara said, her voice drawn. “When we didn’t hear from you at the appointed time last night, it was necessary to send someone. Lyra left early this morning. I can dowse just as well as the next witch. Locating you has not been hard.”
I shook my head. “That’s fine, Aunt Amara. We’ll see her soon.” The phone call ended, and I turned to Mac with a sigh. The situation couldn’t be worse. “It seems you’re having another houseguest,” I said.