Chapter 2

Adding the Fuel

Daylight seared through her pupils like a laser beam. She gasped in pain and turned her face towards the broad shoulder of the copper-haired burly vampire currently carrying her out of wherever she'd been held captive. Light had become a distant memory, and her eyes had gotten used to the blackness. No longer looking at what was happening, all she could feel was the gentle jostling of her limbs as the strong body folded underneath her, a car door slamming shut, and the rumbling purr of an engine starting up. The heavy coat around her shoulders was the warmest thing she'd felt in weeks, and the smooth ride of the car soon lulled her to sleep, exhaustion finally overwhelming her.

Baldwin had felt her breathing and heart rate slow, needing to look down to make sure she wasn't crashing. Fortunately, she'd simply fallen asleep. He was grateful. He'd toyed with the idea of anaesthetising her with his blood, as vampire blood was well known amongst warmbloods for its ability to control them. As it was, he didn't think she'd appreciate being drugged again, given her trauma.

Soon, they were boarding the jet, with Marcus separating from them to arrange for the Knights to conduct a thorough search of the abandoned station. Whilst the witches they'd killed wouldn't likely be found by the general public, any other witches coming back to check on their captive would soon be alerted, if they came back at all.

Thankfully, the flight across the channel was short and free from turbulence. Athena had slept the entire way, unaware of the movements and transfers between the jet and Matthew's car. Baldwin had rolled his eyes as Diana embraced his brother.

"Christ, it's only been a few hours. Can we focus, please?" Baldwin barked, sliding into the back seat of Matthew's Tesla.

Upon arriving at Sept-Tours, Baldwin had carried her straight in, taking her up the many staircases and into what was previously Louisa's tower. He'd set her down as gently as possible in the bed, and by now she'd woken from the coldness of the room, and the chill of the crisp sheets against her back. Matthew was already lighting the fire as Diana was working through the injuries she could heal with magic.

"I'm sorry, but the spells I can create to heal the bones will hurt. Do you want me to wait until you're stronger?" she asked.

"No... do it now... get it over with..." Athena whispered, wincing at the light streaming through the window.

Baldwin moved to shut the curtains, then turned back to watch, secretly fascinated by how bones could so easily be fixed.

Diana got to work, starting with the broken fingers. Each one cracked back into place, causing Athena to whine with each snap, her right hand gripping the sheets. She cried out when the last finger snapped back, and Diana smoothed her hand over it.

"I'm sorry, but they should be okay now. They might be a little stiff for a while. Are you sure you want me to do your ankles?" She bit her lip in concern, her fingers tingling with the right combination of magic to do just that.

Athena took in a breath and nodded.

Diana looked at Baldwin. "Come hold her hands... It's not like she can hurt you by squeezing them too tightly..."

Baldwin looked surprised by the request. He was not the hand holding type. But, given he'd carried her the entire way from London to Sept-Tours, a little hand holding wasn't exactly going to compare.

He moved to sit on the side of the bed, reaching over to let her clasp his hands. They were almost as cold as his own were, and the grip was surprisingly strong, given her weakened state.

Diana performed her unique magic, realigning each bone in her ankle, and repairing those that had been shattered. Athena cried out at each change, her nails digging in to Baldwin's skin as she fought to keep still. By the second ankle, she was clawing at his arm, her head turned away as her eyes streamed. When Diana was done, Athena was shaking, her fingers locked around Baldwin's arm. It took some coaxing to get her to release her grip without hurting her further, but she eventually relaxed.

Diana was making a last check for injuries she could fix, when she gasped. "You're spellbound?"

Athena nodded.

"I can fix that..." Diana replied, lifting her fingers.

"Don't."

"Why not? I can do it in a few seconds."

"Not yet. I don't have the strength to control it yet," she implored.

Baldwin looked at Matthew, who was equally as stunned at the request. It was also remarkably brave to leave herself in such a vulnerable position in the company of strangers. A trait to be admired.

"We should leave you to rest. Marthe can bring you some food and drink to help you build your strength. If you call, we'll hear you. You have nothing to fear from us. Witches won't set foot here," Matthew said softly, taking Diana's hand and leading her out.

She'd been covered with sheets, but she still had Baldwin's coat underneath her. He looked at her one last time, and inclined his head to her, shutting the door behind him as he left.

She turned her head into the coat underneath her, and was instantly hit by the scent of bonfire and leather, followed by the earthy scent of sandalwood and bergamot... It was warm and comforting, and she tried to brush her nose against it to take away the scent of dirt and goddess knows what else she smelled of. She couldn't even begin to imagine just how much she must have stunk to the vampires, but neither of them had said a word or given any indication of it. She gently dozed off, exhaustion still gripping her tightly.

In the sitting room, Baldwin was leaning against the mantle, his arms folded across his barrel chest. "So, what do we know about her?" he asked.
"Not much. She's active with the London coven. They contacted me after her mother had called them looking for her daughters. They told me she lives alone, she takes dance classes and performs with a local dance group regularly. She's just an average witch, according to them. She's no weaver. I'd have known it, spellbound or not. Whatever they took her for, it was for something else. Besides, Benjamin is dead, so we don't have to worry about that business anymore..."

"The question remains, why she was taken. And why she survived. If they killed her sister, why didn't they kill her? What do they think she knows? Or are they after her power? Can a witch's powers be stolen?"

"I've never heard of it happening, but that doesn't mean it can't be done," Diana replied, the question making her arms tingle, as the book within her attempted to answer, with no definitive conclusion. "She survived weeks of torture and starvation. I was only missing for a matter of hours and at one point I was ready to die... How do you make the decision to live when there's no hope?"

Baldwin silently agreed regarding the woman's innate strength and will to live. Looking into her eyes, he'd seen a small measure of anxiety, which was understandable, but very little fear. Despite her injuries and her malnutrition, there was a fierceness to her. Without such willpower, he strongly believed that they would have found two corpses.

"What of the sister? Has her been recovered?" he asked, looking at Matthew.

"I've asked Marcus to go back and retrieve what he can find. It's fortunate that the only other bodies will be the ones you each killed. Whatever is left will be her sister." He looked to Diana, "Have you told her mother that Athena is here?"

She shook her head. "No. I think it should wait until we have the body." In truth, she had no idea how she would even broach such a thing.

Baldwin had been right. How could she even imagine what losing a child must be like? Matthew had been through it, and for a time, it had been enough to make him consider never having children again.

Athena was startled awake by the rattling of a tray. When she opened her eyes, she could see a kindly woman smiling at her as she brought over some water.

"I am Marthe. I brought you some tea and toast with just a little butter. Something easy on your stomach," she said, setting down the glass of water. "Let me help you sit up a little."

Her hands were surprisingly gentle, much as Baldwin's had been. The grip firm enough to ensure security, without so much as pressing against a bruise as she effortlessly lifted Athena and arrange some pillows behind her.

"Thank you," Athena croaked.

The glass of water was handed to her, and she had to grip it with both hands to keep it from spilling. Her left had was stiff from Diana's healing, but she was grateful to be able to move her fingers at all and not have them hurt. She sipped from the glass and the crisp, clean water was the best thing she'd tasted on her tongue for what felt like months. The only water she'd been able to have was from the pools of damp and condensation that had gathered where she'd been kept.

Once she'd had her fill of the water, Marthe sat and waited for her to try the toast. She only managed a single slice before her stomach started to churn, but it was better than the intense hunger she'd gotten used to. Fortunately, the peppermint tea Marthe had made, fresh from the garden, helped to ease things.

"You managed more than I thought you might!" she exclaimed as she put the tea and toast back on the tray. "Perhaps some light broth later, if you feel hungry?"

Athena smiled tiredly and nodded. What she really wanted was a hot bath. She silently vowed that as soon as she felt strong enough to stand, she would go searching for a tub in this place, just so she could scrub her skin clean of the grim still clinging to her.

Marthe muttered something in French, and left her to rest, only partially closing the door. Baldwin was waiting further down the corridor.

"How is she?"

"She is alive. Remarkably so. She ate a little," Marthe replied, looking back at the door.

Baldwin nodded thoughtfully, listening to the steady heartbeat. She'd fallen asleep again. It wasn't so surprising. Her scent most certainly was. Of course, he'd smelled just how dirty she was, but despite that, he could smell her. Rosemary, blackberries, and the deepest notes of a midnight rose. Such strong scents. Formidable. Survivors.