AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Like the skill of weaving a loom, row by row, tapestry after tapestry, or blanket after blanket. The little girl’s hands moved slower than the young woman’s, hesitant and thoughtful, but she stayed focused and smiled after finishing a single row. The young woman beside her beamed, smile and eyes just as bright as the gold bangles on her arm.
In between her two sisters, Evelyn had practiced bringing forth her flame at her fingertips or lighting and dimming candles. The young woman smiled at the little girl with encouragement as Blair had smiled at Evelyn, and she corrected the girl’s movements like Mirella had corrected her younger sister. Evelyn had felt that adoration before. From her parents, her sisters, her coven. Even from her people as she’d walked the streets of Nua.
“That’ll be you one day,” Evelyn’s mother had said as they’d strolled through Fearrington Park where the Third-born Union statue stood. Just like the little girl, full of excitement and eagerness, Evelyn had gazed at the copper figures, stained mint from age and elements.
“Tell me the story, Mama!” she’d asked.
Her mother had smiled and obliged.
“The Sun Goddess planted the seed to create our world, giving us life and light. The Moon God watched over us, giving us strength and courage. After the Great Burnings, witches came to this land. For years, we prospered. But then darkness took root in the north: the vampyrs. Though we are not alone, not then and not now. Our friends and allies, the werewolves, lived in the great forests of the Vadon Mountains, and their Moon Seers saw what our Sun Seers saw: ‘The truest of unions between the third-borns of the Sun and Moon will defeat the darkness.’”
It had felt like a fairytale. With the power of the flame and the strength of the wolf, Evelyn would save the world. Yet, unlike the little girl learning to weave with the cold coloring her cheeks and a tutor beside her full of affection, at the age of six, Evelyn had been turned over to a tutor who had been cold, cruel, and relentless like the southern wind that gusted through the harbor market.
Evelyn wrapped her cloak closer around her body, dismissing the harsh words of the past that fed the doubt rooted within her like an obstinate weed. She may not have been good enough to be Daughter of the Goddess, but she could warn Commissioner Doyle and Callum thanks to her knowledge of the vampyr.
Evelyn walked three more blocks, passing the back of the Runaway Radish, hearing the cries and cheers filtering from the gambling room. Escaping the back kitchen door, the promise of parsnip soup sweetened the alleyway air.
After three more blocks, Evelyn arrived at the commissioner’s office, a singular squat brick building. The size of it still baffled her. An entire wall, twenty feet tall, surrounded Nua to protect and defend witches, but Evelyn knew that Callum had little crime or violence.
The most Callum saw were drunk quarrels at the Runaway Radish, petty thieves in the market, and the occasional pirate ship squatting at the dock. Tales of demon sightings in the hills and farmlands were whispered over pints of ale. Like faeries, Evelyn hadn’t seen a single one, but according to Miss Patricia, huntsmen handled that particular problem.
One hadn’t traveled through Callum in months and they’d only been passing through to help with a demon in Dinberry. Evelyn sighed, certain Callum had a single line of defense with their commissioner and this quaint building. Evelyn entered the doorless entrance, finding the front office empty. Floorboards creaked under her arrival. A petite fireplace provided heat from the side of the room, and a small empty desk stood to the left. A cell, smelling of stale beer and sweat, took up the right wall. At the center, an entry led to a hallway lined with doors.
“Commissioner?”
No one answered. Except silence and the presence of death.
Evelyn didn’t need to see to know. Her magic sensed that McKenna’s body had been brought here.
“Commissioner?” Evelyn called again.
Evelyn checked outside but found the street empty. This close to the town’s edge, it was quieter with less foot traffic.
Evelyn sighed. If she waited any longer, she’d lose daylight before reaching the next town to rest in. She couldn’t risk using magic to light her travels either, as no one knew she was a witch and she wanted to keep it that way. Whispers and rumors traveled fast, even with an ocean between her and Nua.
Her innate magic urged her forward, curious to investigate the darkness seeping from the back, but it wasn’t just Evelyn’s magic that was curious. Evelyn had seen victims of vampyrs for years, as long as she could remember. She’d witnessed them attack, seen them feed. The horrific sights had fueled her need to protect her people, her desire to ensure she could prevent others from suffering similar fates.
But she’d never seen today’s sight. Not once had a vampyr displayed its kill in such a way. They killed for blood, not for show. They ravaged villages. Ran crazed after prey. Slaughtered anything with a heartbeat. The way McKenna’s almost pristine corpse had been displayed suggested it had not been a vampyr, but her blue-hued skin suggested otherwise.
Evelyn crept to the hall and stopped at the first doorway. Inside, a white sheet covered the silhouette of a woman. McKenna’s hair spilled out from under it and over the table. Her head, feet, and hands stuck out, blue contrasting with the sheet.
The dead always sucked the energy from a space with their stillness, as if the darkness surrounding them consumed everything.
Back home, Evelyn had been trained as a protector like all other third-borns. Birth order, witch or werewolf, determined one’s duty. Firstborns were leaders, while second-borns were scholars. How they fulfilled their duty depended on their skills and magic. Mirella, as the eldest, was a leading healer. Blair as second-born had become a highly esteemed scholar in one of the most decorated libraries in Nua.
But Evelyn wasn’t just any third-born; she was a third-born daughter. Children were rare amongst witches and werewolves. Two children were a blessing. Three was a miracle. To have all three be daughters or sons, consecutively for that matter—well, the rarity, the scarcity, the blessing befitted a prophecy.It had only happened once before, a union between a third-born daughter named Carena and a third-born son named Finton. They’d died before they could fulfil the prophecy, and Sorin had gripped onto the hope that a new union would be born.
One hundred and fifty years later, Evelyn had been the third consecutive daughter born of her Carson coven parents. The moment she’d drawn her first breath, she’d earned her title as Daughter of the Goddess. Four months later, Kade Drengr, a third-born son of a werewolf pack, was born, earning him the title as Son of the God, promising their eventual union.
As a protector, Evelyn had been trained to be on the Guard, a group of elite witch soldiers who protected Sorin. That part of her life came back in flashes. Missions. Marks. Rescues. The memories left her empty, hollow, because she hadn’t done anything like that since running away.
Standing in the commissioner’s office, waiting to inspect a victim, felt like being on the Guard again. Evelyn itched with old habits—inspect for bitemarks, study the hue of their skin, ask for any witnesses, determine if it was demon or vampyr. Yet, she wasn’t on the Guard, she was on the run. She decided it was best to wait to talk with the commissioner, and perhaps Miss Patricia had seen him around town.
Evelyn turned to leave, her magic sensing something new, like the gentle caress of night. She stepped through the doorless entrance, only to collide with a wall of muscle, knocking her off-balance. Leather-gloved hands caught her forearms, steadying her as she stepped back into the commissioner’s office.
“Apologies, miss,” a voice with a deep timbre said.
Evelyn looked up, craning her neck as she did so to take in the full length of the tallest man she’d ever seen and one she hadn’t crossed paths within Callum before. She herself stood inches taller than her female peers, but this man stood over a foot taller than her, having to duck his head through the entryway as he entered the commissioner’s office.
