But she had. Only hours before she had rendered him useless to her control again, and he had done exactly as she had demanded all those years ago. He had destroyed.
He destroyed six lives, killed six mortals. He had preyed on them from the shadows, warped their minds to come to him, and drunk from their necks. And there would have been more, if Deion had not followed him and torn him back from a young woman walking alone through the nearby village. If Edward had not used his Somnum abilities to slow his body down in an attempt to put him to sleep. If Nicolai had not used his Portalis ability and threw him through the gate he opened that led to outside Amara House so they could throw him into the cellar.
Striga stepped towards him. Her tears from earlier had dried, and he could feel her pain had evolved into a torturous sadness. Though he had experienced it for a moment, Xander could not imagine the constant pain of losing one’s true love.
“You are not yourself,” she told him. “She is still there, in your mind, hiding. Now that she has broken through, she will be able to sink her claws in you again. And this time, I do not think your Manipuli power alone will be enough to control your own mind. You killed Malefica, boy, and she will not be forgiving.”
Xander lowered his gaze to the floor. He had feared this day would come, the day when he would no longer hold the reins to his mind, to his life, and be a risk to everyone around him once again. Just like when he was first reborn.
“Do what you must,” he told her.
Striga let out a soft sigh. “Oh, Xander. I will not kill you, my friend. You must play an important role in the wars to come as Divina foretold. I will help you, I can channel my powers to you to counter the curse Lilith placed on you today. It will notbe enough to remove her, unfortunately, but it will prevent you from returning to a frenzied state like a newborn—”
“I cannot ask that of you,” Xander interrupted. “You have lost so much today, Striga. I cannot ask you to lose any more.”
Striga took his hands in hers, giving him a stern look. “I knew what was coming today, we both did, Thomas and I. Divina told us both that he… that Thomas would…” She could not say it out loud, not yet. She could not admit that her husband was gone. “We knew what would happen, we knew it was inevitable. I am only sorry she could not foresee what would happen to you. But you and I both know what will happen if I do not help you.”
Xander felt a warmth rush through his hands that spread across his body, relaxing his muscles and soothing the burning ache. The pressure in his head disappeared completely, Striga’s counter curse of light acting like an antidote to Lilith’s dark poison.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Striga smiled at him, tears lining her eyes. She needed to be alone, to grieve Thomas in her own way. Xander understood; he didn’t need his Manipuli ability to know she wanted them to leave, so he brought Deion and Edward outside where Nicolai was waiting for them with a portal gate.
“Xander, wait!” He turned to see Striga running after them. “I will not be around forever, you can already see I am an old woman. When I die, my power will die with me, and you will not have anything to stop Lilith from taking full control of you again. You must find another way to keep her out. You must find your strength.”
Xander nodded, before stepping through the gate and leaving her in the darkness. Alone, without Thomas.
Chapter five
New Beginnings
1882
Adriana
Adriana’s dark blonde hair whipped around her, falling out of her braid as her horse sped through the trees surrounding her home. The woods were thick, with towering oak trees and lush ferns. The sun was shining brightly, and the wind blew strong, causing the leaves to fall and float around her.
Summer had finally arrived. After such a long winter and cold spring, she was grateful for the warmth to return.
She was not permitted to ride alone outside the grounds. Her father would be most unimpressed if he were to find out she had convinced the stable boy, Jonathan, to give her a horse in payment of a kiss. Adriana knew Jonathon was obsessed withher, not her character as such, but her status. He clearly enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around with Lord Clarke’s daughter.
She hated that she’d resorted to such demeaning methods to get what she wanted, but she paid no mind to it when she was able to feel the sweet freedom of riding alone, without company and without rules. And today, dressed in her dirtiest dress to hide her nobility, she had decided to ride into the nearby village to pick up more seeds for the gardens, though she knew she would likely spend most of her time in the local bookshop.
She had always been a lonely child, never had many friends. Although, that was partly due to there being no other children in the house—aside from the families of staff who occasionally joined their parents at work. But she had never felt alone, not with her great-grandmother by her side. And her father, controlling as he tried to be, loved her dearly.
As she matured into a young woman, the suitors her father would arrange found her odd and, quite often, threatening. She was clever, too clever for a woman in their eyes. And her emotions ran too wild. She had not mastered the art of putting on a face to hide her feelings. Her emotions were always extremely apparent within her expressions, particularly her disgust at the choices of roses one of the young men from the village had brought her one day.
Striga told her it was a beautiful thing, to feel as deeply as she did and never hide from it. But Adriana knew it was also her downfall. It meant she could not control her powers the same way in which Striga could.
She had destroyed old paintings or furniture in the house a few times, usually when she was angry or upset, by knocking them over with a strong force of air. On one occasion, when an older gentleman had attempted to run his hand down her back to cup her backside at a ball, she had set fire to the curtains he stood beside. All she had done was glare at him, and allowed heranger to boil and burn, and then suddenly he was surrounded by flames.
He wasn’t hurt. Fortunately, his steward stamped out the fire that had spread to the tails of his coat before they caused any damage. Although, Adriana would have liked to have seen him squeal some more.
Her father had been furious with her that night, scolding her for allowing her powers to be on display in front of the entire village. He was accepting of her gifts, and allowed her to train her powers with Striga, but he hated the idea of Adriana getting hurt by others who only saw her as a Daemon.
Striga had helped calm him down, as she always did. And she had helped Adriana, as much as she could, to keep her fiery temper and the following sadness under control. Adriana only wished she could help her dear great-grandmother in the same way.
Thomas’ death had hit her hard, as expected. Striga had spent weeks in isolation, avoiding contact with any of her family, until Adriana had thrown her door down with a gust of wind in a fit of anger, her Elementai ability strengthened from the floods of emotions she felt from losing her beloved great-grandfather.
