The Trouble With Spells (31 page)

Shock overwhelmed
me when he threw his left hand out and a large arc of flame shot from it,
completely engulfing her in fire, incinerating her on the spot while she
screamed in horror. When there was nothing left but ashes, he turned and
slumped against me, sliding roughly to the floor in a dead faint.

I raised a
trembling hand to my neck, pressing hard to try to stop the bleeding, and I
shakily ran out the door and up the stairs to the bar above. I grabbed the
phone from behind the counter and dialed the number to my grandma’s with my
blood-slicked fingers.

“Hello?” her
frantic voice answered on the first ring.

“Come quickly. I
found him, but there isn’t much time,” I shouted into the receiver, giving her
the address.

“We’re on our
way!” she said and slammed down the phone.

I dropped the
phone without bothering to hang it up and ran back downstairs to where Vance
was still unconscious on the floor. I wanted to try and wake him, but I was too
afraid. I didn’t know how much control he really had, and I worried other
demons were lurking close by.

I heard a soft
moan in the opposite corner, and I ran over to check on Shelly.

“Portia?” she
said, opening her eyes with a confused look on her face. “What’re you doing
here?” She stopped to look around. “Where is here exactly?” she added, glancing
at me and then down at herself. “And what am I wearing?” she moaned, and that’s
when I knew she’d be okay.

“There’s no time
to explain right now,” I said in a rush. “We’re in a terrible situation, and I
need your help to get Vance up the stairs.”

“Vance?” she asked
blankly, her expression puzzled. “What’s the matter with Vance?”

“I promise I’ll
explain everything if you’ll just help me first,” I pleaded with her, trying to
show her the desperateness of the situation.

“All right.” She
grabbed my outstretched hand, climbing to her feet. We went over to where Vance
was lying on the floor.

“Just wrap his arm
around your neck,” I instructed, showing her what I meant as I wrapped his
other arm around mine.

We got him into a
sitting position, and I reached back to grab his belt loop, using a little
levitation magic to pull him to his feet, causing Shelly’s eyes to widen. To
her credit she didn’t say a word.

The two of us
maneuvered Vance up the stairs and out into the bar area, where I directed her
to help me slump him into a nearby booth.

“Someone’s here,”
Shelly said, her head jerking up when we heard a car pull up outside.

“It’s okay. It’s
my family,” I explained, as my dad came running into the bar.

“He’s over here,”
I called out, motioning to him.

“I’ve got him. Go
get in the car!” he replied, moving to grab Vance.

“Go ahead,” I told
Shelly. “I have one more thing I’ve got to do first.”

I ran back into
the storeroom and looked around. The refrigerator was in the corner, and I ran
to it, pulled the door open, and found what I was looking for. Pint after pint
of blood filled every shelf in the whole icebox.

Flinging my hand
out at the contents, I sent a burst of magic, shattering the glass jars in
every direction, spraying blood all over the fridge and myself. I slammed the
door shut, turned, and ran out to the car.

“Are you okay?”
Grandma called to me from behind the wheel, seeing the blood all over my
clothing.

“I’m fine!” I
jumped into the backseat next to my dad and Vance. “Let’s move it!”

The tires made a
squealing noise as we peeled out from the parking lot. We sped through town,
thankfully not passing a soul, and soon we were back at Grandma’s.

Several members of
the coven were there waiting for us when we arrived. They helped to get Vance
into the house and downstairs where they’d prepared a containment area in the
ritual room. Vance was gently placed on a cot behind a magically charged glass
wall before the coven members stepped out and sealed it up behind them.

“Is it necessary
to move him from one prison to another?” I asked, feeling like a traitor for
doing such a thing.

“Yes it is,
honey,” Grandma said seriously. “If we can save him, and that’s a big if, he’s
going to go through some serious withdrawals. He’ll be a danger to all of us
now, even you,” she warned.

I didn’t care. He
was back, and he was with me. He was still my Vance.

“Let’s have a look
at that neck,” my dad said, lifting his hand cautiously toward my wound. “Did
he bite you?”

“Yes. But he did
it to save me. His powers were drained, and he needed my strength to help
defeat his mother,” I replied, silently adding to myself that I hoped it really
was the reason he’d done it.

“His mother?” Dad
and Grandma said at the same time, their confusion written on their faces.

“Sit down and tell
us what happened,” my dad said.

I sat on a cot
outside the cell and explained everything that had happened since I left the
house this evening, up until I made the phone call.

“That was very
risky, Portia!” Grandma chastened me. “You shouldn’t have done this without the
rest of us! You could’ve been killed!”

“That would be
better than living without him.” I sighed, rubbing my hands at my temples. My
poor mind didn’t need this lecture right now. “I need to go talk to Shelly now.
I promised her an explanation.” I got up and left the room, going upstairs to
find her.

“Did you see my
hair?” she asked when I walked into the room, from where she was huddled under
a blanket on the couch. “It’s black! Tell me please how I ended up with black
hair!”

I plopped down
next to her. “Shelly. I have something to tell you, and you probably won’t
believe it,” I began, wondering how to tell her exactly what was going on. About
an hour later, and a few magical examples to boot, she finally believed me and
I thought she actually comprehended the things I was telling her.

She didn’t
remember any of it. Her mind was a completely blank void when it came to her
life over the past few weeks. She cried and cried when I told her about the
explosion at the school. I assured her it wasn’t her fault, she had been used.

“What about Brad?”
she asked finally. “Is he okay?”

“As far as I know.”
I gave an exhausted sigh. “I’m going to have to explain all this to him too, I
guess. He’s been coming by here for days asking to see me, Grandma says. He’s
going to wonder what’s going on.”

“I’d better call
my parents,” Shelly said with a dejected look. “I wonder if they were under a
spell too. They would never let me get away with all this stuff.”

“That actually
makes sense. Vance commented at one time they seemed to be acting strangely.”

My dad came up the
stairs and offered to take Shelly home to check things out there.

“You should go
change. You’re covered in blood,” Dad reminded me, stopping to look at me on
his way out the door with Shelly.

Bruce, from the
coven, went with him just to make sure everything was all right with the
Fontanes.

I headed down the
hall and into the guest bedroom, pulling out a pair of boxers and an old tank
top from the dresser. I headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

I let the hot
water run over my body, washing the dried blood on my neck down the drain with
it. I shampooed my hair, shaved my legs, and washed up really well with thick,
soapy bubbles before I finally lost it and broke down. I slid down the wall,
huddling in the corner while the water sluiced over my skin, and I cried my
eyes out.

Chapter 24

Everyone had gone
home except for Dad and Grandma, and they were asleep in the upstairs bedrooms.

I’d been lying for
hours on a cot I pushed up against the glass wall that separated Vance from me.
I wanted to be as close to him as I could get.

He hadn’t awakened
since he’d passed out in front of me at the bar. He was still slumped over on
his side, in the exact position they’d put him in on the inside of the chamber.
I would’ve worried he was dead, except I could see he was breathing deep and
evenly.

I still couldn’t
hear anything from his mind. It was completely shut off to me. I kept trying to
reach him mentally off and on, but so far I’d had no luck.

Reaching out, I
traced one of my fingers over the divider, making tiny sparks in the magical
current running through it. It didn’t bother me at all, but then again, the
magic wasn’t meant to keep me out, but to keep him in.

The need for sleep
began to threaten me, and I yawned. I continued to watch him for as long as I
could, until my eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and then I fell asleep.

I found myself
standing in the beautiful field of flowers again when I entered my dream state,
and I turned around, expecting to see him standing there next to me. The field
was empty, however. I sighed and sat down in the tall waving foliage, staring
off into the serene space for a long while.

“Portia,” I heard
him whisper my name on the breeze.

I jumped to my
feet, looking all around, trying to spot him.

“Vance?” I called
out, my heart racing. “Where are you?”

“Portia. I need
you!” he replied again. This time it sounded like he was right next to me. I
turned around quickly to face him, but he wasn’t there.

“Portia!” he
growled. “Wake up!”

Instantly, my eyes
popped open, and I was face to face with the demon-red eyes that had been
haunting me.

“Help me!” he
said, placing his hand on the glass. I saw the current was shocking him, but he
didn’t move away.

“You’re awake! That’s
wonderful!” I said with a sigh of relief coursing through me.

“Please, Portia. You
have to help me,” he pleaded with me again.

“What do you need
me to do, Vance?” I wished I could just take down this barrier and hold him in
my arms.

“I’m thirsty. I
need a drink.”

“We left water for
you over on the stand beside your bed.” I pointed over to it. “There’s food too
if you’re hungry. I’m sure you’re feeling very weak now.”

“No!” he rasped
again. “I’m thirsty!”

“So go get a
drink!” I replied, becoming frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me.

He stood up and
angrily went over to the tray, flicking it across the room with his hand,
spraying the contents everywhere.

I stood up against
the glass, lifting both of my hands to rest on it. “What’re you doing?” I asked
in irritation.

He strode back
over to the partition and placed his hands against mine on the other side,
leaning heavily on it. I could see he was trembling.

“I need a drink,
Portia. Please! Just come in here with me. I promise I won’t take too much.”

I suddenly understood
what he meant. He was thirsty, and he needed a drink of blood. He was asking me
to let him feed on me.

“I’m sorry, Vance.
I can’t do that.”

“Bull!” he yelled,
clenching his hands together and pounding his fists against the glass.

I gasped and took
a few steps backward.

“Let me out of
here, Portia!” he continued, the heat in his eyes flaring.

When I didn’t move
or say anything, he pushed away from the glass and began pacing around the
small space like a feral cat.

I watched him as
he moved, wringing his hands, rubbing his arms, running his fingers through his
hair. He continued on that way for several minutes before he came back to the
divider.

“I’m sorry.” He
looked at me with pleading eyes. “Please come back over here.”

I walked over and
stood next to the pane.

“Portia, I need to
have some blood. I’m getting sick.”

I shook my head.
“No, Vance. It’s the blood that’s making you sick.”

“You don’t
understand.” He turned his back to me, then sliding down the wall to the floor.
He grabbed his hair in his hands. “If I don’t get any, I’ll die.”

This pierced
straight to the center of my heart, and I couldn’t bear it. The thought of
losing him again was more than I could stand.

“Portia! Don’t
even consider it!” my dad’s voice came strongly from behind me. “He’s just
trying to trick you.”

Instantly Vance
was on his feet, pounding at the barrier with all his might.

“Let me out!” he
screamed, exposing his teeth in a snarl.

My dad reached out
for me and pulled me back, away from the wall.

Vance stepped
backward and starting throwing fireballs at the partition. One after another
they burst out of him as he threw with both hands. The magic field easily
absorbed the shock, but he didn’t stop.

“Let him get it
all out,” my dad said.

I cried as I
watched him. I hated not being able to help him.

Vance finally wore
himself out and slumped onto the floor against the bed.

“I thought you
loved me,” he said weakly, hanging his head and refusing to look at me.

“I do love you,
more than you can comprehend right now,” I tried to explain. “That’s why I’m
doing this.”

He gave a huff
before he rolled over on the floor with his back to me. He didn’t say anything
else, and after a while I could tell he was sleeping again.

“Let him sleep,”
Dad said. “That’s the best thing for him.”

I nodded, my guilt
over not being able to help him threatening to overwhelm me.

“Why don’t you
come upstairs and get something to eat now?” he suggested. “You need to keep
your strength up too.”

“I can’t leave
him, Dad,” I said with a sigh.

“All right,” he
said, choosing not to try and argue with me about it. “I’ll see if I can find
something for you to eat and bring it down here.”

He left the room,
and I walked over to my cot and sat down. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to
eat again—my stomach was too tied up in knots.