Blue-Blooded Vamp

As the vampire had instructed me, I dipped my fingers into the water. It was thick and smelled terrible, like sour dishrags and mold. I ignored my gag reflex and touched my fingertips to my forehead. As I did, I whispered a prayer to Sybil, thanking her for allowing me to enter her sacred space.

I exited the bathing chamber and continued down the corridor. At the end, a large room opened up. High, arched ceilings rose overhead. Besides the main space, two side niches were bathed in shadow. Low stone benches had been carved into the walls. But straight ahead, a conspicuously bare space must have once held the Oracle’s throne.

Just in front of the empty spot, in the center of the main room, sat the charred remains of an ancient fire. I lowered the torch for a closer look. Among the burned wood and ashes, small animal bones bore evidence to past sacrifices. A shudder passed through me. Would Hekate demand a sacrifice? If so, it was a good bet that the powerful goddess would demand something more powerful as a tribute—a blood sacrifice.

I seated the torch into a rusted metal bracket on the wall and began removing supplies from the pack Adam had given me. First, I spread out a black cloth in front of the old fire pit. On that I placed the amphiphon cakes Rhea and I had baked. I removed the black candles and placed three in each cake. Once they were lit, I laid out a flagon of red wine and a plate of almonds. I placed a yew twig, sprigs of lavender, and fragrant verbena along the top and edges of the cloth. Last, I removed the three large black pillar candles. These I poked into the earth, each flame representing the points of a triangle.

My preparations made, I retreated toward the doorway and sat. Crossing my legs into lotus position, I placed my upturned palms on my knees and closed my eyes.

“Sovereign Goddess of Many Names, Goddess of Magic, Queen of Crossroads, Lady of the Underworld, Hekate, I invoke and implore thee, reveal your almighty form to my undeserving eyes.”

A hot wind swirled through the chamber. The air echoed with warped whispers from another plane. I swallowed against the pressure building in my chest and continued my prayer. “Goddess of the Gateway, hear my prayer, heed my call, accept my humble offerings. Torchbearer, light my way, show me the entrance I seek. Hekate, I invoke thee three times three.”

The wind blew faster, harder. Even as the barometric pressure dropped, magic rose. At first, a prickle against my skin, then deeper. The blood in my veins sizzled, my stomach cramped, my heart galloped. My breath came in short bursts as my lungs struggled against the pressure. The power thrust up through me, forcing my eyes open.

A cyclone of black light formed in the center of the candles. The fires danced in the wind. Then, as quickly as the winds rose, they died. My ears buzzed from the sudden silence. I blinked and stared at the empty space between the flames.

I looked around, wondering what I’d done wrong. Had I angered the goddess? Forgotten a step? I looked right first, into the shadows of the side niche. Nothing. A low screech echoed through the chamber. A chill crawled over my skin. Turning my head slowly left, I saw two red eyes starting at me from the darkness.

I froze. Dear gods, what had I summoned by accident?

A large white owl flew out of the darkness. My heart stopped.

“Stryx?” I whispered. With achingly slow movements, I rose, not wanting to antagonize the vampire owl.

“Relax, Mixed-Blood. The owl means you no harm.”

If power had a voice, I’d just heard it. The tone was low but resonated with unmistakable authority. The owl stopped its circling and landed on a stone perch near the ceiling. I watched it out of the corner of my eye.

Twin lights ignited inside the niche.

I fell to my knees.

Snowy hair rose and swirled around her head like the halo of a fallen angel. Just above her brow, a crown depicting a full moon and waxing and waning crescents glowed. A black Hekate’s Wheel—like the one all mages bore on their bodies—was branded into her forehead. Her irises were full black, like ebony marbles. She wore black robes and carried a black lacquered staff covered in arcane symbols.

I’d summoned this goddess’s powers on many occasions. I knew the dark potency of her energy. Yet, seeing the goddess in the flesh terrified me. This was no minor god, like Asclepius, that I could outsmart or challenge. Hekate could end me with a passing thought.

“Rise, child. You were brazen enough to invoke me. Do not lose your nerve now.”

I rose unsteadily to my feet. My knees felt loose and watery, but I forced myself to look directly at her. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t acknowledge my apology, either finding it unnecessary or too pitiful to accept. “Her name is Sophis.”

I frowned. “Who?”

The goddess nodded toward the owl. “You called her Stryx. But her name is Sophis.”

I paused as relief flooded through me. Stryx had been a familiar of Cain’s. Even though I’d accidentally gotten Stryx killed back in New Orleans, when I’d seen this owl, I was convinced Cain had somehow found me. But now that I’d calmed down somewhat, I remembered that many of the sources I’d read about Hekate had mentioned she traveled with an owl to symbolize her wisdom.

“What’s this?” Hekate pointed her staff at the black cloth and the feast I’d laid out.

I paused. Was this a test? “A humble offering.”

She snorted. “Quite humble, yes.” She walked over to the cloth and poked at the items with the staff, as if she wouldn’t lower herself to touching them with her skin. While she prodded my offering, Sophis flew down from her perch to sniff the food. The goddess waved a hand to give the owl permission to feast. The bird pounced, devouring everything—the cakes, the flagon, the twigs, and even the cloth.

While the disconcerting sound of a binging owl filled the cave, Hekate looked at me. “What else do you have?”

I looked up quickly. “Excuse me?”

“Are you hard of hearing, girl?”

I tilted my head. “No.”

She sighed like I’d disappointed her. “If you seek entrance to Irkalla, you’re going to have to do better than cake and cheap wine.”

I paused. “I… I’m sorry, but I thought those were the items you required.”

“For simple requests, yes.” She shrugged. “A breech birth or perhaps a simple blessing of crops.” Her gaze bore into me. “But you seek entrance to Irkalla. Therefore, I’ll require a more valuable offering.”

Ah, I thought. Here we go. Gods and their demands for blood. “Where do you want it?”

“Excuse me?”

“My blood. That’s what you want, right?”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Child, I have no need for blood. What I need is gold.”

I frowned. “You want me to… bribe you?”

She pursed her lips. “If you want to be tacky about it. I prefer to call it a tithe.” She held up a finger. “But not just any gold. Only items of true value will appease me.”

Sophis finished her feast and hopped over to the corner to rest. I felt those red eyes on me and knew that despite the relaxed pose, the owl would tear me apart with one word from her mistress.

I racked my brain, trying to remember all the information I’d read in Tristan’s dossier of the goddess. I knew she liked dogs, yew trees, and honey. She was best summoned in liminal spaces or crossroads with three spokes. Her symbols were torches, cauldrons, rings, and… crowns.

“Wait!” I grabbed my knapsack and dug around until I found the item I was looking for. When my hand curled around the cold metal, I let out a little whoop. I held Persephone’s crown high. “Here you go.”

I held the crown out to her. She merely looked at it. After a moment, my triumph faded and was replaced by confusion.

“You dare offer me a crown worn by Lilim?” she said, referring to the fact the crown had belonged to all the Alpha Dominae of the vampire race. As the goddess of mages, she was obviously offended to be offered an item from a being who worshipped Lilith.

I dropped my hand. “Shit—I mean, sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Her eyes lowered to my chest. “Your necklaces have been consecrated by those loyal to me. I will take those.”

My heart clenched. I looked down at the priestess of the Blood Moon amulet Maisie had given me. Her own matching necklace was hidden under my shirt. Mine I didn’t mind handing over, but Maisie’s? I had so little left of my sister; I couldn’t imagine surrendering it. I glanced up at the goddess, prepared to pretend I hadn’t heard her use of the plural.

“You may have it,” I said, removing my amulet.

“The other as well.”

Still playing dumb, I started to remove the amulet Zen had made for me. Hekate arched a brow.

“Do not insult me, child.”

My stomach clenched. Of course she knew about Maisie’s necklace.

“How badly do you want to access Irkalla, Mixed-Blood?”

I looked behind me, where the long corridor stretched back to where everyone waited. I didn’t want to part with anything of Maisie’s, but I wasn’t willing to let my sentimentality ruin our chance at gaining access to Irkalla.

I turned toward Hekate again. “If I give you both, do you swear you will open the gate to Irkalla and permit me and my friends to enter?”

Sophis screeched in the corner. The sound made the hair on my arms stand on end. Hekate’s eyes narrowed. “Did you just demand I do your bidding?”

With every second of delay, it became more difficult to keep my impatience at bay. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you, but this amulet means a lot to me. I need to know that giving it to you will appease you enough to fulfill my request. Otherwise, I won’t part with it.”

She smiled. Only instead of looking friendly or reassuring, it was creepy. Someone really needed to talk to Hekate about her people skills. “I will allow you and your friends to enter the realm of the dead if you give me both necklaces.” I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand. “You will also agree to pet Cerberus on the belly when you see her at the Adamantine Gate.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">