Succession of Witches (18 page)

There were Angels, and from Angels came Demon and Mortals both. While Angels do not leave the side of the Almighty, Demons will dally and Mix with Mortals, creating a race of small gods. However, after countless generations of this, a new era will arrive as it always must, in the form of a woman. A woman, human but not human, will appear at a time when Hell and Heaven alike no longer remember their purpose. A woman, free yet enslaved, will appear at a time when the Heavens are Silent, yet Hell cannot hope to fill the void. A woman, helpless but powerful, will appear at a time when both faith and reason can only turn inward and destroy their objects. A woman, a virgin yet not pure, a sage yet not wise, a child yet a crone, will come when she is summoned by those who wish only to banish her.

And from her womb will emerge a race of sorcerers the likes of which the creation has never known. The age of the small gods, and even the large gods that begat them, and that which begat the very idea of that which was begat, will be over; eventually, all that will remain will be the Mother of Sorcerers and her children, who destroy so that they may create what has never been dreamed of by even the divine dreamers. Only when all the seas are red with the blood of the vanquished and the gardens of the moon have been seeded with their entrails, will she return.

—
Book of Succession, 4:6             

Cassie sighed and closed the book. That was the eighth version of the Book of Succession she’d looked through, and each one of them had the “mother of sorcerers” passage. It was slightly different in each text, with some leaving out the part about the gardens and the entrails, whatever that meant, but the basic idea was always the same: one woman would be the source a new race of magical beings. For some reason, Bennet was convinced the passage referred to her.

He was evasive when she asked him how he was so sure, only saying that all the signs pointed to her being the subject of the prophecy, and that he had always been told t
he events in the Book of Succession would occur during his lifetime. Who precisely had told him this was another question he wouldn’t answer directly.

Instead, he’d escorted her to his library, where, next to a few more meticulously detailed nautical miniatures, he had an entire shelf full of translations of the Book. He’d even let her take a few back with her to the guest room, to mull over on her own. He had disappeared temporarily, leaving her
under the watchful eyes of the Knight, who was posted just outside the door of her room.

The armored woman had done nothing but stand outside for hours, barely moving; a guest to the house would have assumed she was a statue. Cassie had to wonder about her: didn’t she ever get bored? Was there enough humanity inside her that she even felt things like boredom? Or was there even a person in that suit?

As though summoned by her thoughts, the Knight did a sudden about-face and entered the room. She cocked her head towards the bathroom across the hall, motioning Cassie to follow her. Cassie narrowed her eyes.

“I can go to the bathroom by myself, thanks,” she said.

After a pause, the Knight shook her head and pantomimed rubbing her arms and her chest. Cassie blinked. “You want me to take a bath?” she asked. The Knight nodded vigorously.

Cassie swallowed; Ben
net certainly wasn’t wasting any time trying to bring the prophecy to life.

The guest bathroom showed more signs that Ben
net had been preparing for this moment for an incredibly long time. There were dozens of fragrant bubble baths and body washes, all the better to get a girl into the mood, she supposed. After some deliberation, Cassie chose a vanilla-scented bath, lilac body soap, black cherry-scented shampoo and juniper conditioner. Maybe if she combined enough odd scents together, she could mount a smell offensive on the man.

The Knight stood in front of the sink, watching her bathe. Cassie didn’t even ask for the Knight to give her some privacy; she knew better.

“Are you watching me to make sure I don’t drown myself?” asked Cassie as she scrubbed the top of her head with bubbles. The Knight didn’t bother to dignify that with a response.

Cassie found she enjoyed her bath despite herself. She was in a weird sort of limbo, dreading the rest of the night but able to appreciate small moments of pleasure for the time being. After dragging the process out for as long as she could, she stepped out of the bath, only for the Knight to immediately wrap a perfumed, pink towel around her shoulders.

Am I really going to have to lose my virginity to this guy I just met?
Cassie thought to herself as the Knight led her back to the guest room
. I should be scared, I should be mad as hell, but it just seems too unreal. I don’t know how I feel.

In the closet, which the Knight opened with a quick motion, there were more signs of Ben’s obsessive planning for this night: there were dozens of silk nightgowns, in myriad colors and sizes. Cassie ran her hand over the smooth fabric for a moment,
then went to take out a bright pink gown. She was shocked when the Knight slapped her hand away.

“What’s your problem?” asked Cassie, cradling her bruised hand. It had been a gentle slap, but the Knight was wearing gauntlets. “You don’t like pink?”

The Knight shook her ponytail, then slowly, almost painfully hesitant, put her glove on a blue-green gown.

“Whatever you say,” Cassie grumbled, grabbing the ocean-colored fabric.

The scowling face of Donatello Arrigio appeared almost instantly in the mirror. “This had better be good, considering I own a perfectly good telephone.”

“I wanted to see your face when I tell you this,” said Serenus, jovially.

Arrigio pursed his lips. “You do realize you’re the only one in court who can get away
with speaking to me like that?”

“Of course.
That’s why I do it.”

The whole entourage was clustered around the table in the break room, where Dwight’s mirror had been commandeered as a communication device. Only Eugene hung back, sitting quietly across the room.

“Out with it,” said Arrigio tersely.

“Cassandra’s been stolen again—this time, by a woman wearing a set of enchanted armor.”

There was a moment’s delay, then Arrigio’s eyes bulged. “Are you certain? Could you be mistaken?”

“It was a woman in full plate armor Don, apparently it was kind of hard to miss,” Serenus replied.

“What does that mean? Who took Cassie?” Jay nearly yelled into the mirror. Sam put a hand on his shoulder, although he felt like yelling himself.

Arrigio took a deep breath. “It was Marcus, Bennet Marcus. And either he’s completed one of the most miraculous acts of spellcraft in the last 1000 years, or he is very, very foolish.”

“I think it’s both,” said Serenus. “He is very foolish, but I think he has finally completed that magical suit of armor he was going on about. With no small amount of help from his father, I’m sure.”

“Explanation, please?” asked Sam through gritted teeth.

It was Arrigio who answered. “A few years ago, Marcus submitted a report about a project he was researching—imbuing armor with enough power to create the ultimate magical soldier, something the Eastern Court would never be able to match. He asked for the help of our most experienced witches to help him craft it.”

“And you didn’t take him seriously,” said Dwight, sitting on the table next to the mirror.

“We didn’t. It was a pipe dream; enchanting something like that is impractical, and there is no way to create ‘the ultimate soldier’—it was just a silly, romantic notion. We told him he was free to work on it if he wanted, but the court wouldn’t support it.”

Serenus leaned back and crossed his arms, thinking. “Now I don’t know if he’s created the ultimate magical soldier, per se,” he said. “But these are the facts: this figure was faster than a vampire, and Cassandra’s protection amulet had no effect on it.”

“Maybe the amulet was faulty?” asked Arrigio.

“It worked on me,” John added from the back of the group.

Arrigio squinted. “Who the hell are you?”

“It’s a long story,” said Serenus, waving his hand. “The important thing is, Marcus may be foolish, but he isn’t suicidal. He knows that kidnapping Cassie, of all familiars, is thumbing his nose at the court’s sovereignty. He wouldn’t do it unless he was confident in his creation.”

“Unless he was confident that he really had created the ultimate magical weapon,” said Arrigio, bitterly. “Now we know where he lives, but we can’t risk sending anyone to take the girl back. That thing could kill them.”

“Where is she?” said Sam. “I don’t care if the court can’t intervene, I will.”

“I don’t care to tell you, Son of Sammael,” said Arrigio. “The last thing we need is for you to run off in your haste to rescue your familiar and get yourself killed.”

“Tell
me where she is, or else you’ll have more than just Marcus to worry about,” said Sam. He hadn’t really planned to say it; it just happened.

“Sam!” Serenus exclaimed, shooting back a panicked look and then returning his gaze to Arrigio in the mirror. “Forget that, Don, you know he’s not in his right mind right now.”

“I know,” said Arrigio, looking exhausted. “Let me call an emergency meeting of the board and get back to you; in the meantime, don’t move. Do nothing.”

“That’ll be a real nice change of pace,” said Sam bitterly, turning away. Suddenly furious, he turned back to the mirror before Arrigio’s image could disappear. “Excuse me, but what is the point of you exactly? If you can’t uphold your own laws, what’s the point of having a governing body at all? You’re useless,” he practically spat.

“I know,” said Arrigio quietly. “And that’s why I’m begging you to do nothing. This act undermines the court’s very existence, and we can’t afford to react impulsively. Please, wait until you hear from me before you move.” With that, the image darkened and was gone.

There was a moment of quiet contemplation as they all considered Arrigio’s words. It was Eugene, from across the room,
who broke the silence.

“Never, in all my years, have I heard a demon lord beg,” he said quietly. “If they can’t find a way to get that girl back, I believe this may be the end of the court. This changes everything.”

To Cassie’s complete lack of surprise, Bennet had black satin sheets. The Knight had removed Cassie’s protection amulet, deposited her in his bedroom and then taken off, leaving Cassie sitting on the bed in her teal nightgown.

She cradled her silver locket in her right hand, trying to remain calm. It was her last line of defense, but did she dare use it?

She nearly jumped when Bennet opened the door. Feeling her pulse hammering in her head, she slowly raised her eyes to look at him.

Then she burst out laughing.

She could just barely hear him over the sound of her own laughter. “What? What is it?” he said.

“It’s just…it’s just….,” Cassie started, then looked at him and exploded in giggles again.

He had the most perfect abs she’d ever seen. It hadn’t been obvious when he was fully clothed, but standing there without a shirt, naked except for a pair of tight black pants, he looked like a cover model for one of those bodybuilder magazines; every muscle in his torso visible, as though chiseled out of marble. How many hours had he spent in the gym to get that body, all in anticipation of impressing a girl he had kidnapped? The sheer absurdity of it was hysterical to her.

Bennet cleared his throat, moving towards the bed. “Well, at least you did that before I took the pants off instead of after,” he said. Her laughter died instantly.

He grimaced. “Sorry. That was supposed to be a joke.”

“I know,” she said, averting her gaze from his suspiciously muscular form. She felt feverish, breathless and afraid, but there was a part of her that was observing this whole process with a kind of ironic detachment.
I can’t believe my rapist is this precious.

He attempted to casually ease onto the bed across from her, which of course looked anything but casual. There was an awkward pause as she waited for him to move closer to her, but he stayed where he was, seemingly unwilling to close the gap. Finally, the waiting took its toll, and the ironic, detached part of her somehow took over.

“So, that’s it then? You’re just going to rape me?”

She was looking at her bare knees, pulled up to her chest, but she could feel him shift slightly. “What?”

“Rape. You know, when you kidnap someone and make them have your babies.”

She felt a jolt in the mattress as he suddenly stood up.

“That’s not what’s going on here,” he said, his face carefully blank. “Cassie, you’re adhering to old-fashioned, human notions that have no meaning to us. We’re so far beyond that, do you understand? This was foretold. This is—“

“Still rape, whatever you call it,” she said, dropping her knees and stretching her legs. Now that she’d actually said the R-word, for some reason she felt much better. “Besides, why shouldn’t I have ‘human notions
?’ I’m human.”

“Well, I’m not,” he growled, or at least attempted to growl; he lacked the proper register for a really good growl.

She shrugged. “Congratulations?”

His face clouded with anger and he took a threatening step forward, which made her back up involuntarily, hitting her back painfully against the headboard. Seeing her fear, he seemed confused, as though he wasn’t
quite sure how he’d ended up in this role. He stayed at the foot of the bed, his fists balled at his sides.

“You don’t understand, this isn’t…this is something I have to do. This is something I’ve been preparing for my whole life.”

“I noticed.”

“And if it’s as the Book says, do you really expect me to sit back and let the Son of Sammael fulfill the prophecy? No one wants that!” he said, sweeping his arm theatrically. “Do you want a race of necromancers for children? A bunch of disgusting, maggot-ridden corpses?” he practically spit at her.

She filed that comment away for later examination.

“I’m not thinking of h
aving children at all; I’m 16,” said Cassie, meeting his eyes.

He reacted like he’d been slapped, and most of Cassie’s fear melted away. So he was still capable of shame.

“I thought…I was informed…you were older than that,” he sputtered lamely. “I mean you look at least 18…”

“Thanks?”

He licked his lips and slowly let out air through his nose, like he was deflating. Even his impressive chest seemed to implode a little. “This isn’t…this isn’t how I thought…this isn’t how you were supposed to be,” he said quietly. He turned and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her.

“What did you think I’d be like?” Cassie wondered aloud. “Were yo
u thinking it would be all ‘Oh Master! Let us fulfill the prophecy!’” she said, making her voice as sweet and submissive as she could.

From the back, she saw Bennet’s neck redden and she knew. Before she could stop herself, she kicked him gently in the shoulder. “You idiot, you really thought that! You thought I’d be all into it!”

“It’s more like I hoped you would,” he said, his hands clasped in his lap. “I never imagined this scenario. I guess I just didn’t want to deal with the reality of…this,” he said, standing up again and turning towards her. “Listen, I won’t…do that. It’s not right.”

She nodded, relieved. Thank goodness he was a better person than whoever had put this idea in his head, however many years ago.

He narrowed his brown eyes. “But I still want to fulfill the prophecy, someday. Listen…do you like me? In that way?”

Now it was her turn to look confused. “Um, excuse me?”

“I mean, do you think you could want me? I’m not unattractive to you, right?”

She smiled; really, she didn’t owe him any sympathy, any consideration. He had come this close to attacking her. But he was so eager to
please, she couldn’t help feeling a tiny fondness for him.

“Er, no?
Not really? But you know, you kidnapped me. You’re kind of starting at a big deficit there,” she replied.

He rubbed the back of his head. “No, I meant, do you like me in a sexual way.
In a ‘that guy is hot’ way.”

She blinked. “Bennet, how much I like you in a sexual way does kind of depend on how much I like you in a regular person way,” she said, feeling like she was talking to a child.
Although that doesn’t seem to be the case with me and Sam
, she thought.
But he doesn’t need to know that. Nor does Sam, come to think of it.

His blush deepened. “Of course I know that, I was just asking, in terms of pure sexual attraction, uh…anyway. This is awkward. Should I send you away?”

She leaned back, thoughtfully. “Well you could, but to be honest, there’s nothing to do in the guest room. Except read the Book of Whatever over and over again.”

“Oh. Sorry about that,” he said, reaching for pockets that his tight pants didn’t have. He settled for putting his hands on his hips awkwardly. “So…uh….?”

She motioned with her foot towards the 60-inch flatscreen TV on the wall across from the bed. “Do you get HBO?”