Chapter 5
Dancing with Fire
Athena and Diana walked and talked a while around the gardens inside the castle walls, then wandered out onto the wider lands and away from anything that could be harmed by large displays of elemental magic. Matthew and Baldwin went to the outer wall, both curious about the witch with fire. Diana had been able to call on fire, as she could all elemental magic, but as Goody Alsop had explained, Weavers could call on such power, but the power didn't belong to them as it did to average witches. For Athena, fire literally ran through her veins. She rarely felt cold, which was why she didn't bat an eye at walking out in her bare feet. It also meant she was close to the earth and helped to ground her.
They found a patch of land away from any trees and Athena waved a hand at Diana, indicating that she should move back.
"Further. I don't want to burn you. You won't heal from witchfire."
Diana did as asked, her witch's eye tingling at the powerful heat beginning to build within the fire witch.
Athena flexed her fingers as they ignited, first in the usual bright orange flame, then blue as she increased the heat. She changed her stance and flung her right hand up and out, creating an arc of cyclonic fire, then switched the position of her hands, circling the fire around her like a lasso. She was able to manipulate it into any shape she could think of, the flames moving around her like a dancing partner, responding to her every focus, her eyes glowing as she moved with it. Diana was entranced. She'd never seen such control over such an unpredictable element. She'd only ever been able to call on it at times of need, but this was different.
Matthew was similarly impressed. Elemental power was rare these days. Baldwin had an unreadable expression on his face. Her fire power was incredible. But, ow that her power had been freed, he could hear her blood singing. Vampires could always hear the natural rhythm of witchblood, and each witch had their own song. Diana's was melodic, and increased when she was around Matthew, as though her blood responded to his presence. Athena's blood was far more aggressive in its beat. Like a drum beat an ancient army might march to. As she wielded her fire, it strengthened in bass and speed, the cacophony almost deafening to him. He glanced at Matthew. He didn't seem to be as affected by it. Her scent was similarly strengthened, as though it had exploded upon the binding being broken.
After a few more moments, he had to retreat to Phillippe's office. The sound had decreased with some distance, but the memory of it was running around his brain, causing him to lose focus on his work. It was maddening. He tried to rationalise it to an admiration of her strength. He'd always liked strong women. Shy, quietly spoken women, who couldn't stand up for themselves, irritated him. He didn't have the patience for them, and they in turn found him too terrifying to be around. He had women working for him in New York, but they were used to his ways and knew how best to deal with him, and avoid him when necessary.
Just when he considered going back out, his phone buzzed with a text from Marcus.
We've retrieved the sister's body. It wasn't pretty. Disembowelled and decapitated. The head was in the corner of the room we found the survivor in. She must have known it was there. We'll keep it on ice until a decision is made with what to do with it. The dead witches we'll arrange to be disposed of.
Baldwin frowned. Disembowelment was an awful way to die, though he had his suspicions that decapitation was the final death knell. Which meant that Della would have been in excruciating pain for however long they left her like that. He further suspected that Athena had witnessed the entire thing. Whatever secrets these witches were trying to extract, they had resorted to brutal torture techniques.
He returned a text.
And they dare to call us animals... I'll let the others know. Athena is the survivor's name. She's a remarkably fast healer. I'm sure Matthew will fill you in.
Athena. Goddess of Wisdom and Battle Strategy. He knew her in his youth as Minerva. A Goddess he had once revered before he was turned, and was a favourite amongst most warriors. Where Aries, or Mars in the Roman Pantheon, was the God of Violent War, Athena was unrivalled in her skill at winning wars. He wondered if Athena's survival had been down to strategy, or wisdom. The look in her eyes at the mention of Satu, had been nothing short of unfettered fury. She'd met his eyes as fiercely has Matthew had when Diana had been in Satu's clutches, vowing retribution. Where Diana had spared Satu by binding her powers, he knew without even talking to Athena, that should she ever cross paths with the Finnish witch again, she would do everything she could to destroy her. He was strangely eager to see such a fight. His previous mission to take out Benjamin had stoked his warrior instincts, and with giving the Congregation responsibility to Diana, he found he longed to use his physical skills as much as his business ones.
He tried to work a little more, but curiosity drove him to seek Athena out, going back out to where Matthew still stood, Diana and Athena finally walking back to the castle, the fiery display clearly over.
"Marcus sent a text. He has the dead sister on ice. She was disembowelled and decapitated. Her head was found in the same room that Athena was kept in."
Matthew looked at Baldwin in disgust. "Christ, she probably saw it happen..."
"I thought so too."
Diana and Athena finally came within earshot. "Can you ignite your whole body?" she asked.
"Oh, yes. Just... not clothed."
Diana frowned. "Why not?"
"Well, they tend to burn off. I haven't yet found anything to protect them. Besides, a naked witch walking around on fire, tends to draw a crowd," Athena replied, smirking.
They passed right under where Baldwin and Matthew were stood. That same drumming rhythm followed Athena. For a brief moment, he wanted to march after her, as though she'd become a siren for him. He shifted on his feet, then walked back towards the main building, keeping his distance. He didn't bother to look to see if Matthew had followed him, he was more concerned with quenching his thirst, going straight to his wine stores and selecting a wine at random. It was only when he poured himself a glass that he realised what he'd selected. The strongest scent was black cherries. He almost tossed the bottle at the wall, but wasting good wine wasn't his best idea. He huffed and took a drink. The taste lingered far longer than he'd like, but he wasn't about to stop now.
As he returned to the sitting room, she was sat with her feet tucked under her by the fire, Diana and Matthew sat on one of the sofas, Ysabeau opposite them. He set his bottle down next to him as he took the empty space, sipping casually, only glancing at Athena.
"Wouldn't you like to call your mother? Let her know how you're doing?" Ysabeau asked.
Athena shook her head, shifting her hips as she looked into the fire. "No point."
Diana glanced at Baldwin, wondering how to broach the subject they were clearly all thinking about.
"You don't get along?" Baldwin asked, trying to keep his voice equally as casual.
"Understatement of the century." She looked around at the enquiring eyes and sighed. "I was the witch she didn't plan for. Della was the apple of her eye. She only cared about precognitive abilities. I was proof that her power wasn't infallible. She never once got a vision about me. She had no idea what kind of witch I'd be, but Della saw everything, and she was only five. She never bonded with me. Never cared to try."
"It's not always easy for mothers to bond with their children. It's not always instinctual," Ysabeau offered.
Athena glared at her, her eyes flashing. "She breastfed Della for two years. I was bottle fed by my father. It wasn't just the lack of bond. It was the lack of care. She lived her life through Della, because Della was the stronger seer. That's all she cared about. I was nothing more than an interloper."
Baldwin listened to the anger in her voice, and the fire dancing in her eyes. Such a situation would cause most people some modicum of pain, but he wondered if Athena had long since gotten used to her lot in life with her family, that the pain had all but disappeared, replaced by resentment. He'd felt the same resentment when Matthew had been made Master of the Knights of Lazarus, even though he had been Phillippe's only surviving male. There were occasions when he still felt annoyance at the injustice of it, but he tried to remind himself often that Phillippe always knew what he was doing. His gift for strategy was just as keen as Baldwin's.
"You were close to your sister?" he asked, taking a sip.
Her eyes snapped to his, levelling the same glare at him as she had at Ysabeau. But they held something more. Anguish. The bright fire was dulled, and he could hear her heart racing as she tried to calm herself, the fire flickering in the hearth due to her close proximity.
"She was a gentle soul. She tried to play mediator between me and mum, but more often than not, she bore the brunt of mum's anger for trying to include me in things, or spending time with me. She truly blossomed when I found our flat in Cheshunt. Mum didn't want her to go, but at 23 she couldn't stop her. I was 18, and she couldn't have cared less if I'd have ended up on the street. I taught Della everything I could. I had our family grimoire. Mum didn't want it. She never bothered with spells. She spent all her time scrying and divining. Della had some mild earth power, and I tried everything I could to encourage her to develop it. She wasn't a fighter, but she was unfailingly loyal." She swallowed and took a breath.
"I watched her die. They'd hung her upside down by her ankles and were flogging her. I was tied to some sort of upright table, and they'd already bound our powers. Satu was screaming at her, demanding she tell her secrets. Della never caved, not even when Satu opened her up from navel to sternum." She took another breath, clenching her fists to control the fire threatening to spill out of her.
"I was yelling and screaming, struggling against the chains. I tried to hard to summon the fire, but it just wouldn't come. They left her for an hour, thinking the blood loss would kill her, but she was still alive, barely conscious when they returned. That's when they... with a band saw. It wasn't quick. It was..." Her voice shook, and she stood up to pace, needing to work off the adrenaline building in her system.
He wasn't good with comfort, but he had to do something, so he filled his glass and stood to hand it to her.
"Calm your nerves..." he said in explanation.
She took it and gulped it down in one, surprising him with her thirst. More surprising was the heat from her hand as their fingers had touched. He hadn't been that close to her since her powers had been restored, and the heat of her was startling, even for a warmblood.
"Thanks. Sorry. I hope you have more. I might need it." She looked at Baldwin, her eyes starting to glow with that same rage as earlier. "I'm going to kill that witch. I don't give a fuck about the Congregation, about killing my ow kind! She already betrayed that. Her days are numbered."
Baldwin couldn't help the smirk that spread across his lips. She'd drawn herself to her full height, and he realised for the first time, just how tall she really was. She was barely more than two inches shy of six feet, her chest heaving as she breathed, her fingers clutching his glass tightly enough that he wondered if it might shatter. In that moment he saw the warrior in her.
