Page 37 of Luca’s Magic Embrace

Luca pulled a thin metal paper clip out of his jeans pocket. He straightened it then bent it back and forth until it snapped into two pieces. Shaping each piece into an “L”, they could be used as a pick and tension wrench. He held them up and smiled. “Always prepared. If it were night, I’d just break the damn lock but the sun has me too weak to do it by hand. Here we go.”

“By weak, do you mean human? Good thing you are quite the boy scout,” she joked.

Luca grasped the lock with both hands, inserted and applied pressure with the wrench and picked at it until he heard it pop. Jerking the lock off in a single movement, he grabbed the antiqued glass knob and turned, pushing the door wide open. He felt around for a light switch but found none. He flicked on his flashlight and shone it into the darkened space. Settling a comforting hand on Samantha’s shoulder, he tried to ease her fear. “It’s okay. Nothing living is in here.”

Samantha was curious to see what was inside. She pressed up against Luca’s back, peering in from behind him. A large, darkened, rectangular room stood before them. Its walls and ceilings were draped in a black velvety fabric. The wooden planks had been painted a lacquered cardinal red. Elaborate candle wall sconces adorned the far wall; burnt candle wax splattered the floor. On the other side of the room, a metal ring was attached to the seam along the wall and the ceiling. Attached to the ring were long steel chains and two metal cuffs. Evidence of a kept captive were scattered across the floor; clothing, a plate, glass, remains of stale bread. On the farthest wall, opposite the entrance, an ornately carved circular wall hanging glowed in the distance.

“What the fuck?” Luca’s words trailed off on seeing the entire room, realizing it had been used to shackle and hold a prisoner. Samantha.

Samantha turned on her flashlight and ran to the pile of clothing near the chains. “Oh my God, Luca. My clothes. These are mine.”

It started to settle in that she had been here. Stripped of her clothes. Enslaved. She didn’t want to cry but tears pricked her eyes. Even though she couldn’t remember what had happened, she knew he’d done something to her. Gathering the filthy dress into her hands, she fell to her knees and began to sob.

“I was here,” she whispered through small cries. “Oh my God. What did he do to me? Why?”

Luca ran over to her. Kneeling down next to Samantha, he put his arm around her, running his hand up and down her arm. “It’s okay, he can’t hurt you anymore. He’s dead. It’s just an empty room with memories that are best forgotten. You’re safe with me. You’ll be all right. Come on, now. Let it go.” He took the dress from her hands, and placed it back on the shiny red floor. Pulling Samantha to her feet, Luca lovingly embraced her. “You’re okay, now. Remember why we’re here?” He kissed the top of her head.

Rubbing the tears from her eyes, Samantha released Luca. “I’m sorry. It’s just so hard not remembering. It feels like a dream. A nightmare. Seeing my clothes just makes it real. I hope that son of a bitch rots in hell,” she said, regaining her composure. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

“Over here,” he said, pointing to the large circle. “It’s carved with ancient markings. And look here in the center. A divot.” He ran his fingers into the concave groove.

“Yes, a divot that looks like it might be the exact spot for our little golf ball. Do you have it?”

“Here, hold my flashlight. Shine it over there.” He took the rounded pewter ball and held it up to the hanging. “Well, it looks like it might fit but I’m not sure how it would stay in there. It’s not deep enough to put the entire ball into.”

Yet as Luca placed the ball up into the indentation, there was an audible click. Samantha and Luca stepped back as the ball unfolded; eight pieces of metal pierced out from its internal structure, holding it securely against the carving. As if grabbing onto spider legs, Luca reached up and rotated the orb. A slight whoosh of air escaped as the wooden hanging hinged open, revealing the satin interior of a vault.

Samantha started to jump up and down in excitement, as she caught sight of a smooth, scarlet stone encased within the small repository. The Hematilly Periapt. It didn’t look nearly as spectacular as she’d expected. A single, brick-red teardrop-shaped rock hung from brown sisal twine. It was exactly as described, yet nothing appeared magical to the eye. Unassuming, yet people were willing to kill for it.

Luca held the highly coveted gem up by its cord, regarding the amulet. “So this little baby is what’s causing us all the trouble? I’m relieved to have it, especially knowing there’s some freak out there with my blood,” he exclaimed. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Samantha gladly took the periapt into her hands; she had no intentions of letting it go. Rubbing it between her fingers, she dreamt of the day she’d be free again.

“Luca, about your blood. We can’t risk giving this away to the vampire. What if he decides to give it to a witch? It’s too dangerous. No, we can’t give this away,” she insisted.

Luca raked his fingers through his hair, contemplating their dilemma. “I agree. The vampire who seeks it must be put to death. After that, we will destroy it so that no one can ever get their hands on this heinous object. But know this, Samantha, if it comes down between saving me or saving you, then the vampire gets the amulet. We have to keep it safe. Kade and Sydney can help us.” He began sending them a text to explain what had transpired. “I’ll send for a car and then we can decide how to proceed from there. The vampire said he’d find you, and believe me, I’ll be waiting for him.”

Just as Luca went to open the front door, Samantha saw a face peering through the rear kitchen window. “Luca, there’s a woman out there.” Samantha pointed and started walking toward the back door, inexplicably drawn outside. Intellectually she knew she shouldn’t go by herself, but her legs kept walking one in front of another until she found herself at the back door.

“Samantha, no!” Luca yelled.

But Samantha didn’t stop. She wanted to listen to Luca, she really did. But something pulled her. Samantha’s body hummed with magic, high on power. The magic was beckoning her to keep going. She was drawn to the stranger like a piece of iron being pulled to a magnet. Compelled.

Samantha caught a glimpse of straggly black hair in the rain; Rowan stood waiting on the patio, her arms outstretched. What was she doing here at Asgear’s home? Could she have followed her and Luca? How would she have known? Samantha couldn’t understand what was happening; it didn’t make sense. As Luca repeatedly called to her, she struggled to obey him and failed. No, this wasn’t right. She shouldn’t go. But the compulsion was too strong. She tried to fight, desperately attempting to shun the entrapment. Failing, she stumbled out into the courtyard, standing mere yards from the raven-haired witch.

Rowan laughed wildly, watching the novice try to fight her command. She knew that Samantha probably had no idea how to stop the compulsion. She almost felt sorry for her, but no, that ungrateful idiot had refused Ilsbeth’s training. She was blessed with magic but had abjured both her ability and the graces of the coven. If Samantha had continued to train with Ilsbeth, she would have easily been able to deflect Rowan’s will. Instead, she helplessly submitted, like the incompetent she’d always be. No pity for her; Samantha deserved to be overpowered because of her insolence. Rowan was disgusted with the level of disrespect Samantha had shown to her and her sisters by refusing to learn the craft.

She would have given anything to watch Asgear cringe as his puppet floundered. Asgear had always been so pompous in the magical circles, bragging about his new spells and artifacts. In a bar one night, she had learned from another witch that the wily mage was bragging that he had discovered the Hematilly Periapt as part of his grand plan to take over New Orleans. Now that he was dead, Rowan would have the last laugh.

After the stir with Samantha returning to the coven and searching her room, Rowan had grown suspicious. When Ilsbeth had told her that Samantha was looking for the periapt, she was thankful for the fortuitous conversation. It was then she knew for sure she that could successfully acquire it. The novice either knew the location of the artifact or with the help of Luca, would surely locate it. All she had to do was wait and watch; she already had the blood of a vampire.

She enjoyed watching Samantha stumble about, not quite sure why her body wouldn’t listen to her brain. Enough of the fun. It was time to get down to business and take the amulet for herself.

“Ah, Samantha. You’ve found the periapt, I see. The rumors were true; it was here in New Orleans. You see, I’ve been wasting time searching, planning just the right location spell, and now you’ve helped me find it,” she snickered.

“Rowan, what are you talking about? I need this. There’s a vampire who’s after me. I’ve got to give this to him,” she explained.

Luca walked up behind her slowly, not wanting to make any fast movements lest Rowan might harm Samantha. He held the stake he’d brought firm in his hand.