Destined (The Spellbound Series, #3)

Prologue

"So you are Lady Violca, then?" he questioned, drinking in the state of the little place. Despite the damp, rotting floorboards and the plaster falling off the walls, the room was decently kept. It was plain, save for a small couch with an old fraying carpet before it, and the candles that stood on tall stands in the corners of the room. It was a true testament to the London disjunction; all the neighboring houses likely accommodated multiple families at a time, the whole place teeming with filth and disease and death.

"People rave about your wondrous... gifts," Vasilis continued, returning his attention to the old woman, Violca, who had her back to him as she pulled a little table to the center of the room. "Only familiar company, of course," he added. "We know how such things are treated by our society."

"All too well," the woman muttered as she righted herself, and gestured to a stool she had placed behind the table. Vasilis hung his top hat on his cane and rested them against a wall. He then took his seat, as did the woman, the two of them separated by a large crystal ball sitting on the table.

"Release your heart, your mind and your soul," Violca declared, in an unnaturally theatrical voice, as she lifted her arms above her head. "Allow me to walk through your past, unlock your deepest desires, bring messages of loved ones lost, whichever you may-"

"I implore you, please do not waste my time," Vasilis interrupted, rolling his eyes. "I am not here for a performance act. I am not one of your ignorant customers with their desperate pleas to contact the dead." He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "I know what you can really do."

"I- I am not certain what you mean by that, sir," Violca responded with a frown, but for a second she had looked as though she were caught in some terrible act. Vasilis knew she was who he had been searching for. He lifted his hand to his neck, and pulled a chain from under his coat. He held the necklace out to the light before the woman, an ellipsoidal white gem hanging at the end – a moonstone.

Her eyes flashed at the sight of the stone, and she glared at Vasilis with renewed defiance. "How did you find me?"

He leaned back in his seat with a satisfied smile. "One of your girls selling lavender flowers over in Limehouse." He had seen them in the street market, customers milling among the rows of grocers and furniture-sellers, the costermongers hollering their songs as the stench of the Thames wafted over the district. "Your granddaughters, aren't they? Well, once I'd found one, it wasn't hard to draw the truth out of her," he said, unwrapping his hand and displaying the lock of hair.

Violca's eyes grew wide, her boldness drowning in fear. "No," she whispered. "Not my little ones."

"Calm yourself," Vasilis said sharply, dropping the curl on the table. "She came under no harm. All I needed from her was your location. And all I need from you-" He leaned forward, clenching his fists. "-is a glimpse into the future of my family. The future of my coven."

"I do not aid the mystical witches," she muttered with an air of indignation, her hands wringing together. "Just as you British have shunned and mistreated us Roma, so have your witches shunned and mistreated ours."

"Oh, I'm certain you could make an exception," he replied, reaching into his pocket. He produced a small stack of notes – ten pounds. This visibly caught the woman's attention, though she quickly tried to hide her astonishment. Vasilis rolled his eyes. "Pride will do you little," he scoffed, his eyes wandering the room quickly. "We both know you need it."

Violca glared at him bitterly, but snatched the money out of his hand. He grinned as the woman stuffed it under her shawl, and thrust her hands on either side of the crystal ball. Vasilis did the same, and placed his hands in hers. She shut her eyes, arching her head up in the silence, and then a gust of wind filled the room. Vasilis watched her anxiously as she scrunched her eyes up, wincing every few seconds as the wind ruffled her hair.

"Yes," she said, her voice breathy and soft. She opened her eyes, her dark stare now upon the crystal ball. "I see... power in your family. They have always been formidable and revered by others."

Vasilis frowned. The woman spoke the truth – his coven was arguably the most powerful of their kind – but where she saw that, he had no clue. He stared at the dull, glass surface of the crystal ball, but all he saw was his own dark hair and amber eyes – traits that appeared quite often in the history of his family. "These are facts I am already aware of," he said impatiently, staring up at the woman again. "What future truths do you see?"

"Patience," she snapped, and focused her eyes on the ball. "The power in your family has been... growing for centuries." Her brows knitted together. "There will soon come the product of that power, a force greater than any before. A force for the world to fear."

Violca gasped, ripping her hands away from him, her eyes wide with shock. "This is unnatural – sacrilegious! What your family has done, and what will come of it... When people learn of this-"

"It is quite fortunate, then," he interrupted, rising from his seat with a grim smile, "that people shall not learn of this."

The woman shuddered with terror, and tried to push her seat back in an effort to get away, but he was too quick for her. He reached over and grabbed her forearm. "Quiescite motus," he said, and almost instantly the woman's body went rigid. Her arms and legs snapped into place against her body, and she fell backward with her seat to the floor.

Vasilis walked around the table, and knelt down beside Violca, her face frozen in horror. "I am terribly sorry," he muttered, and pulled a knife out from an inner pocket. He placed the blade against the woman's throat. "But I must protect the future of my coven."