Blood, Love, Magick

Prologue

Prologue 

Caledonia

July 1712 

They gathered secretly at the cliffs highest mark, somewhere in between the expansive heavens above and the boiling sea below. Cloaked, they blended one with the twilight, foes coming together at the charge of their god or goddess, for the wellbeing of their people, a demand neither could ignore.

Darkness licked along the immortal vampire king, Damon Cromwell. The son of the night moved within the dark with grace and ease. This was his turf—his time of day. In the shadows, he acknowledged his God Erebus, the personified of night, a shimmery spirit from beyond.

The air was pleasant warmth against his cold shell, carrying the earthy breeze of salt and sea. He smelled her before he saw her, the nectar and irresistible potent scent of a witch. His nostrils flared, infused with the desire for her blood. Any other place and time he would have acted on that one-minded desire.

High Priestess Catriona, daughter of day danced with the midnight just as easily as Damon. Fiery hair spit sparks off the starlight. She came at the call of her Goddess Hemera, embodying the glimmer of day—bright, beautiful, and electric.

Together the four gathered. Unwillingly, but necessary, neither trusting the basic instinct to strike out at the other—one for the bloodlust exuberating for the witch and the other for survival from the bloodsucker. The only thing holding them back from tearing into each other was, the attendance of the higher beings they worshiped and most often obeyed.

"Why have you summoned us?" asked the arrogant vamp with an air of impatience.

Erebus looked down at his son on Earth. "To implant a solution to the chaos and mayhem you are causing amongst each other. Nothing will survive throughout this decade. Your world will cease to exist with only emptiness left." He let the severity of his words sink in. "A decision from the Heavens has been made." Erebus's voice rang out with finality. Echoing over the cliff's edge where the crashing of waves beat on the rocks below.

Catriona's heart pounded with the roaring of water at this admission from the gods. Damon hissed in anger like the spray of the turbulent sea. It was apparent that neither side was happy with the Heaven's interference.

"A treaty has been drawn between the vampires and the witches—one that will be forged and bound by the heir of each. This is why you both stand before us," Goddess Hemera added.

"Do we have a choice?" Damon seethed, fangs extended, gleaming off the moons dust.

"There are always choices, vampire king. Choose wisely," Hermera spoke with wisdom, her iridescent form flickering with the winds.

My ass, thought the vamp with rising frustration. "What are the terms?" Damon spat with disgust. A treaty meant rules, and Damon despised rules.

"By eliminating the threat you pose to the other, your kind will thrive instead of perish. The children of your children will live," the God Erebus explained.

"How?" Catriona asked in an enticing tone like a sexy song.

"It will remove the desire for vampires to crave fae blood, and forbid sorcery killing on vampires. The two gifts of your kind will be useless on the other," the god extended.

Damon's citrine eyes darkened. To give up the sweetest blood was a high price, regardless that there were others nearly as satisfying. A witch's magick though, they had no defense against, except wits, inhuman speed, and strength. It wasn't past a witch's cunning to poison their own blood with magick to kill a vamp. More of his clan lately had succumbed to this toxic death. Damon's fangs salivated in the need for revenge.

"The treaty broken by either side will be the cause of extinction from this plane, deemed by the god's hand. Until..." Erebus's voice had a hard edge, to point out the strictness of disobeying the Heavens. "...the arise of the one called the Jewel."

The protection of her people came first. She would do whatever was asked of her to keep her kind safe. To Catriona the contract was much in her favor, not only would her lineage continue, it also kept the witches from being blood donors to vamps.

She stepped forward to offer her willingness at the deed her goddess had requested. "What must be done?" Catriona inquired.

Hermera smiled, pleased with her daughter. "To aid the contract's enforcement certain allowances must be made. At the onset of the agreement, fae blood will no longer hold any appeal to vampires. Their blood-scent will be repelled."

"And what of the witches? Are no allowances made for them?" Damon wanted to know. There was an unfair cruelty to his tone.

"As they only kill out of defense not thirst, magick will be useless against vampires unless their life is being threatened." The goddess defended her claim, a bias claim without doubt, given away by her supreme tone.

Damon's mouth set in a grim line. You don't argue with a goddess, even a prejudice one.

"The treaty will be forged upon a drop of vampire blood and a trickle of magick in the chalice," Erebus instructed the king and high priestess.

Not wanting to waste another moment with the erotic scent of the witch and her vixen goddess, Damon sauntered to the chalice. He sliced his wrist swiftly with a razor nail and squeezed a drop of blood into the ornate cup. He angled his dark head toward Catriona, speaking to her for the first time. "What are you waiting for witch?" The words were hissed through clenched fangs, dripping with his salivating venom. He'd been in her tempting presence too long.

Titling her chin a fraction in the air, her bewitching emerald eyes glared at him. Not moving from her position, Catriona sent a spark of power effortlessly to join Damon's blood.

Damon glared at the witch with open hatred at her display of power.

Then all thoughts of each vanished as the contents of the chalice shot up in blue, hot flames—the color of vampire blood and the shimmer of fae magick.

The deed had been done.