She’s gorgeous; from what I can see, her skin is covered in markings of Belladonna flowers and berries. I can’t help myself as I ask her curiously if the markings have any meaning; in return, she tells me to stay away from her, her voice cold and distant. She continues telling me that the markings will lash out and try to kill me despite the revolting magic that lingers around me. Her dismissive answer and the disgust on her face, as she eyes me wearily, causes me to abhor the magic for the first time. Her answer reveals that she is a witch, one of the dark creatures. I’ve never been drawn to a witch before or even had an interest in them. I despise them, but she’s gorgeous, even though she’s a Blood Witch, and I can’t help but be mesmerized. I feel a desire to get to know her and learn more about her. Learn everything there is to know. I lean into her and open my mouth to convince her to speak to me, as she scrunches her nose at me and starts talking.
“I don’t know what you just did, but you smell much more pleasant now,” she hesitates, “I’m Caria… what’s your name, human?”
I take her in; her wavy red hair follows her every movement, and her flecked golden eyes watch me cautiously. Her movement is elegant, unlike anything I have ever seen before.
“Caria, that’s a beautiful name for such a beautiful… wi-woman. My name is Fynnigan, but I go by Fynn. A pleasure to meet you.”
I don’t extend my hand to her, the memory of the molten skin on the female vampire still fresh in the back of my mind. I have no intention to hurt this gorgeous creature.
“And no problem with the magic,” I say quickly, pretending to understand what she meant.
I give her a smirk. She returns me a small smile, her plump lips drawing my attention. I stare at her mouth as she speaks.
“An interesting name, Fynnigan… Fynn.” She says my name as if she can taste it, “an interesting name for an interesting human. I’ll have your food and drinks served.”
Then she disappears behind a thick black curtain, which probably leads to a kitchen. I sit down near some other witches. One of them pulls up her lips in distaste, an evident sign that the magic has not dissipated, fortunately. I shrug and warily glance around, taking in my surroundings. The curtains covering the windows are still pulled taut; not an ounce of daylight is allowed in. The smell of fried bacon and eggs fills my nostrils, accompanied by toasted bread, and a plate appears in front of me, together with two jugs. One filled with water and the other with fresh milk.
Caria gives me a wink as she looks at me sultrily, then attends to another customer. I feel my cheeks reddening at her attention, and I remind myself she’s a fucking Blood Witch, regardless of how beautiful she is, yet I stare at her, following her movement. Blood Witch or not, I wouldn’t mind losing my virginity to her if only I knew for sure she would not drain me of my blood to use in some of her coven's stupid rituals. Or that I would not burn her to death before we could even finish the act. Suddenly irritated that I might remain a virgin forever thanks tomy mother and this dense magic hovering around me, I stick the food into my mouth and start to chew aggressively.
Caria seems to flirt with me from a distance while I eat, making it clear she doesn’t trust me either, but definitely finds me interesting. I welcome the attention, even if she’s a Blood Witch. It’s my first sort of interaction with a female that’s not my mother or my sister. Mother makes sure of that. When the food is gone, I get up, ready to search for my sister. Instead, I use my idiotic sister as an excuse to talk to Caria more.
“Hey, pretty witch,” I say.
She turns her head at me, crinkling her nose once more.
“You reek again, pretty boy,” she counters.
“Sorry about that. I’ll try to keep my distance from you,” I smirk.
I'm unsure why the magic appears stronger again and is so off-putting to her sense of smell.
“Have you perhaps seen my sister sneak out of here? She’s about 1.60 in height. She has a small but strong frame, long black hair, light gray eyes, and pale skin.”
I look at her expectantly, hoping she has seen the little rat sneaking out.
“So, a short female replica of you? Is she your twin?” she asks curiously.
“Hmm, yes, and yes.”
“What will you give me, human, in return for that information? What can you offer me?” She grins at me.
I only notice now that her markings are imprinted on her skin, almost like tattoos, and layered above in shadows. She catches me staring.
“It shows other witches to which coven I belong, and it serves as a warning not to mess with me, as I belong to the deadliest one,” she explains without my asking.
Her shadows curl around her body as if to add more weight to her message. I swallow.
“Clear, witch.”
I raise my hands in defense, and she starts to laugh loudly. Her laughter fills my ears like a musical melody.
“Please, Fynn, I have no reason to hurt you. I was just playing with you. Yes, I saw your sister leave this morning—hours ago. She spoke briefly to a male vampire, but he is already gone. I think she asked for directions to The Silent Fortress, although I have no idea why she would want to go there. I’m unsure if even the magic you wield is strong enough to protect her there.”
She shrugs.
“Good luck if you go there to find her. I heard rumors that the woods there have a mind of their own, only allowing passage if they want you to.”
I do not miss the flicker of fear appearing in Caria’s eyes when she mentions the fortress and its surrounding forest. I curse Harlot once more; she’s always up to some shit. Where did she even get the idea to hunt some fortress in an area she’s never been to before? Ignoring Caria’s warning, I ask her for general directions and head out. She makes me promise to stay safe, and a strange flutter appears in my stomach.
