A/N: Chapter 2, everybody!! Whoo ^_^ Enjoy and thanks for reading (and being patient, of course!) ;D
Chapter 2: The Hawthorn Pearl
The Hawthorn Pearl wasn't a nightclub, and it wasn't run by vamps or weres either. No, this place was a bar run by witches.
At least, that was my theory.
Henri hadn't said a word to me on the ride over through the earliest of night. Little to no traffic faced us, but that didn't seem to matter to me. I was in the dark, and I was only relying on basic theories. Still, I had a feeling I was close to the truth.
Hawthorn was considered poisonous for witches in the same way that wolfsbane was to werewolves. It was ironic, to say the least. None of the other supernaturals could be connected to such a hazardous plant.
"Henri," I piped up, but was hit with a wave of the silent treatment that made my lip curl. Well, then...
From the light that came through the cracked limo window, I saw streetlamp after streetlamp, and as they flickered, I received a sense of danger.
We weren't supposed to be here.
Henri took my hand in his, and I flinched at the sudden contact. "Relax," the vampire murmured.
I swallowed. "Where are we?" My spine was tingling oddly, and suddenly the cloying scent of incense washed over me like a tidal wave of overwhelming perfume. I coughed roughly. "What the-"
"We're here," Henri replied just as the limo came to a complete stop.
At least I was right about my witch-run-bar theory. If you could even call it that. I slid quietly out of the vehicle, my senses still heightened and overbearing. It would take awhile to get accustomed to, I gathered. Through my eagle-like sight, I found myself looking at what appeared to be an abandoned brick building. The street itself was deserted and dimly lit.
We were on the outskirts of town, closest to the harbor. It was obvious that no one would be around at this time - at least where humans were concerned - but the place seemed so... secluded.
We shouldn't be here.
The only color on the abandoned warehouse was the sign, beaming with its neon reds and yellows. My eyes traveled to the entrance next, and I saw two figures blocking the door.
The source of the incense smell, I deduced mentally. In other words: warlocks.
Now, even though magic-users were more plentiful than werewolves, I hadn't met very many. Most of the ones I had met were slaves to the vampires.
I glanced Henri's way, and without a single word, he led me to the warlock-blocked entrance.
Now with a better look at the two magic-users, my degree of unease shot up a few notches. Why did Henri take me to a bar? Was there even a reason? I couldn't decide if the warlocks were bouncers or bodyguards, but The Hawthorn Pearl was a bar, right? Not a nightclub...
"Uh, Henri, why are we at a witch bar? We're not witches." Henri didn't look at me or answer; he just kept walking, seemingly aware of the danger we were walking into.
Witches and vampires didn't exactly like each other. Okay, so maybe 'like' is too underwhelming of a word to describe their relationship. Although some witches and warlocks have earned the trust of the undead for personal favors and such, most magic-users despise the creatures of the night. I laughed mentally at that. Magic-users were the damn cause of vampirism and werewolves, for shit's sake!
Henri went right up to the warlocks, and that was when I felt the crackling power that filled the atmosphere. We were too close...
"What do you two want?" the guy on the right grunted. He was slightly taller than the other, with a muscular build, wide shoulders, and stark green hair that had obviously been died that color. Streaks of black near the ends proved that much. The warlock's face was tannish, and the only oddity on his skin was the lip ring that gleamed when the light caught on it.
Both warlocks wore midnight black attire - to blend in, I guess - and my eyes traveled to the other magic-user. Slightly shorter, and with more facial hair than I'd ever seen on a werewolf, this warlock had died his hair blue; so blue that it looked like a freaking wig. With no available room for a piercing or two, he wore black sunglasses.
Maybe they were just warlock wannabes, with the clothes and the hair. The power rolling off of them told me differently. I could only hope they weren't capable of black magic.
See, there are two types of magic, according to everyone's knowledge. To keep it simple, there's white magic and black magic. No brainer, right? Black magic is more abundant than you think, and I already had a sinking feeling that The Hawthorn Pearl occupants practiced the dark and sinister art of black magic.
"I'm here to see Maria Day," Henri announced calmly, breaking the tense silence and leaning forward to stare the green-haired warlock down. "Is she here, Daniel? We have an appointment."
The warlock scoffed as his pierced lip curled into a sour smile. "Who's asking, bloodsucker?" He had a thick accent; one that didn't belong to America. It was so foreign to my acutely-trained ears.
The other warlock grunted at his companion. "What's it matter, Danny? They're vampires. Bloodsucking parasites, damn it!" His leather clad hand balled into a fist. "Always trying to mingle with the other species. Not that you play nice."
"You haven't changed, Zachary," Henri muttered, face hardening to stone. "You've hated our kind since the very beginning of your irrelevant life."
"Irrelevant?" Zachary echoed, his sunglasses jerked from his face so that he could glare at my sire easier. The vampire chuckled in response. "You heard me."
"Henri-" I began, but Henri's hand snatched up mine and squeezed tight enough to break bones. I bit my tongue to hold back a cry.
It was a warning.
Daniel chuckled at me. "Newborn, I'm guessing. I haven't seen one up close in years."
"That's because we stay clear of those leeches," Zachary explained, his tone heated with hatred. Damn, I hated magic-users.
"Besides, Maria didn't say anything about a couple of vampires wanting to meet with her," the green-haired warlock spoke after the area had stilled with electrified silence. I looked Henri's way, and that's really when our situation caught up with me.
Wait...
"Maria... " I murmured in remembrance, then sent Henri a glare. "Why are we here to see Maria Day? If you don't remember, let me remind you that I killed her friend. Hell, her master. She'll kill me when she sees me."
Henri had the nerve to laugh softly. "You're already dead, Antoinette."
"Thanks to you. There are other ways witches can hurt vampires, aren't there?" My eyes traveled to the warlocks, Daniel and Zachary, and I shook my head. "She'll burn me alive! I'm not going in there."
"You're overreacting," Henri said with a dramatic eye roll worth of a slap to the face. Lucky for him, I kept my hands at my sides.
"Look, Maria's busy at the moment. You could always stay until the sun comes up. I'm sure she'll be free by then," Daniel pointed out with a snort of amusement. Amusement at the extent of his own sick joke.
Zachary laughed. "Yeah, give me a name, and I'll gladly relay the message to her." I had assured doubts about that.
"I need to speak with her now," Henri pressed, his tone gaining a dangerous edge to it. I shivered as his power was released, a challenge for the magic-users.
Daniel raised a dark eyebrow. "Seriously, who are you guys and why do you need to see Maria?" The warlock locked eyes with Henri, who didn't flinch like he could have. Like Daniel was planning on.
Don't lie to a warlock.
The scattered leaves on the sidewalk rustled behind me. The wind picked up considerably, and the air suddenly buzzed with electricity. Power.
Magic. Black magic.
Very slowly, carefully, Henri answered. "I need her help."
The warlocks stiffened at his words. He was showing weakness. "Henri, stop," I whispered low enough for the vampire alone to hear.
"Does this have anything to do with your clan?" Zachary asked, brow furrowed in masked confusion.
"Yes," Henri replied, his voice low and calculating. The wind died down, almost to a mere whisper. The vampire's grip on me tightened, and I pressed closer.
Daniel finally shrugged and looked over at his friend. "Zach, go get Maria. I'll bring these two inside." Zachary grunted in response, a protest, but soon disappeared behind the door that acted as an entrance to the bar.
The other warlock looked my way before turning on his heel. "Follow me," he muttered.
Henri had the satisfaction of keeping my emotions in check as he led me into the bar by the hand. The entire place, while not very large, was mainly composed of booths and tables. The only obvious indication that it was a bar through and through was the bar staged in the farthest corner, complete with a long counter, wooden stools, and lots and lots of liquor, of course. The lighting of red and purple gave the place a mellow feel, although I kept receiving prickles of magic and power rubbing up against me. It had to be unintentional, of course. The place wasn't too empty; most of the occupants were witches.
Figures.
There were also a few couples. Human couples. Oh, God, those wannabes. Two teenage witches caught my eyes, as they were laughing and giggling outrageously loud, obviously high off of the herbs and alcohol in their witchy systems. I know I said hawthorn is a magic-user's kryptonite, but for the thrill-seeking, it's a drug of the supernatural community. Just like weres can get stoned off of wolfsbane - think of it as catnip - witches and their magical counterpart love the surge of energy and danger. Vampires aren't affect by alcohol or regular drugs, but they can get drunk. Human memories surfaced, and I recalled Henri getting drunk and tipsy at a Halloween party. Blood does sustain, but too much can be dangerous.
I felt Henri release my wrist just as he sat me down on one of the stools. He took the one beside me, and his gaze flickered over me before settling on the bartender.
The witch bartender.
Of course...
I followed Henri's gaze and met the bartender's amber orbs; eyes that had probably seen it all and then some. She was skinny with curves in all the right places, pretty tall, and outrageously flawless. Honey golden hair that sat in waves framed her angelic face of perfection.
For a witch of black magic, she sure was beautiful.
"Hey, yous guys, welcome to daHawthorn Pearl! What can I get ya?" the witch announced with a boisterous Brooklyn accent. Well, at least she was trying to blend in. Most oldies stuck with the sophisticated dialect that they'd been born with. This witch had decided to pick up the theatrics and entertain.
I guess.
"We won't be staying long," Henri explained smoothly, giving the witch a sexy smile. She beamed even brighter. "Ey, haven't I seen yous before? Henri Sinclair?" As soon as she said his name, her accent slipped and I could actually understand her.
Henri nodded. "And you must be Samantha Monroe, co-owner of The Hawthorn Pearl."
The witch laughed slightly. "That be me. Ya know, I didn't think I'd see you again. You're a very hard vamp ta catch on camera, ain't ya?"
The vamp beside me chuckled in amusement. "I guess so." He looked over at me again. "Sam, this is Toni."
"Ah, well, nice ta meet ya, goil," Sam burst out with that silly accent yet again. It was hard to take her seriously.
"Anyway, so why are ya here? Ya know we witches don't like yous-"
"Sam, get back to work! I don't pay you extra to grill the customers," a voice rang out clearly from behind me. I flinched at the familiarity of that voice.
Maria Day.
She hadn't changed much since Gavin's party in October. Not that I expected her to change. I was met with the same auburn-brown hair and deep amber eyes. When our gazes met, she instantly frowned, eyes becoming narrow. "Why is she here?"
Henri cleared his throat loudly to divert her attention away from me. "Maria Day, so nice to see you again."
Maria, appearing a bit surprised by his presence, smiled sweetly, if a bit forced. "Last time wasn't long enough, Henri Sinclair. Is it a pleasure or a curse that you've stumbled upon my establishment with... her?" she looked at me again, a coldness seeping into her unique and startling eyes.
"I didn't mention her to you, I know."
"I'm assuming the extra requested item is for her?" Maria asked, her tone gaining an icy quality. From her gaze, I knew what she knew. I'd killed Giselle out of pure jealousy when I'd been only a human. Maria must've been close to her; a friend to spend some of her eternity with.
"You remember Antoinette Drake, right?"
Anger and what appeared to be irritation flickered in the witch's eyes. "How could I possibly forget your beloved Marked, Henri? She's the one that murdered Giselle out of petty human emotion. She killed my friend, your sire."
The room had become silent, with all occupants watching expectedly. Even the drunk witches had stopped laughing hysterically. Sam had turned her attention to refilling a bunch of shot glasses, playing ignorant to this situation.
We were outnumbered however I looked at it. That, of course, was just the supernaturals in sight. Who knew how many were hiding in the background, ready to pounce if trouble arose? We shouldn't have come here. I still had no clue why Henri needed to speak with Maria; he'd ever told me the specifics, after all. He didn't have time, it seemed.
"Why are you here, Henri?" Maria Day asked, crossing her arms.
Henri's jaw clenched and tightened, but he still answered as calmly as he could manage. "I'm in trouble with the clan. You know that."
"Mm," was the only noise that escaped the powerful witch's mouth. I fixated on Henri's words. I'd almost forgotten. My uncle wanted to execute Henri in front of the rest of the clan.
Why witches, though? Why Maria? How could she and the others possibly help us?
I hoped to God that Henri had a plan in case this whole situation went south.
"What kind of trouble?" Maria questioned, her voice dropping in volume. The lights above us flickered ominously. Damn, Maria was more powerful than I'd originally thought. She must've been old.
Really old.
Story of my life!
"You already know, but I'd be glad to remind you," Henri bit out harshly, putting a steady hand on my shoulder. "Robert Drake wants me dead for protecting his niece on a number of occasions. And, as you can obviously see, Toni's a vampire now, but her uncle believes that she's dead and gone."
Maria had the nerve to shrug it off in a casual manner. "And what do you want me to do about that?" From their previous words, the damn witch knew exactly what she had to do. Henri had spoken to her already before. Apparently.
"I need a spell that will disguise Toni and I until we can leave New York safely."
Maria's eyes only widened slightly, but mine had no restraint whatsoever. I wanted to protest, demand immediate answers. I even glared at Henri, but not a single word left me. Damn it!
I just stood there stiffly, fuming in silence. We were leaving New York?! Since when?! I wanted to cry or scream, or both! Henri linked our hands, squeezing mine in reassurance. Or at least, that's what he'd been going for. Henri hadn't told me my fangs would come out if I was pissed. I'd never experience this kind of rage before. The moment my fangs pricked my bottom lip, the haze lifted. I squeezed Henri's hand back until it crunched beneath my newborn strength. I wanted him to know that I was outraged. Because of what, I had a few hunches.
"Why the sudden urge to leave the state, Henri?" Maria asked, her surprise quickly flipping back to pure amusement.
Great.
"I already told you, Maria. I'm in trouble with the clan, and Toni is in danger of falling into her uncle's hands."
"I know, I know," the witch giggled softly. "I just wanted you to admit that you need my help. The infamous Henri Sinclair needs help from a simple witch, a part of the inferior race, according to you vampires." She let out a sigh of contentment. "Is a disguise spell all you want? No passports or anything else?"
"No, that's it," Henri replied lowly, earning another tinkling laugh from the smug magic-user. "Alright, suit yourself. The spell should be done in about 20 hours or so. Just come by again around midnight, okay?" She didn't look at Henri then; her eyes locked on me, and she smiled. I didn't trust that smile. More importantly, I didn't trust her.
"Fine. Thank you for helping us."
"Anything for an old friend," Maria gushed in an overly sweet voice that was too high and dangerous to possibly be sincere. I wanted to voice my suspicions, trust me, I did. Now just didn't seem like the best time to insult a black magic-casting witch that happened to be centuries old. Forget the fact that Henri was there. He was already leading me out into the cold night air.
I managed to pull my hand away once the door had closed behind us, and growled. "What the Hell was that, Henri? Where are we going, and why didn't you tell me?"
"Antoinette-"
"No!" I cried forcefully, anger building within me at a rapid rate. I could feel the tips of my fangs poking at my bottom lip, lightly pressing down.
"Listen to-"
"Henri, why do we need to leave the state? What the Hell is going on? We just can't trust Maria. Don't you see-?"
"Antoinette!" Henri snarled, his voice easily echoing as it bounced off the walls of the buildings that surrounded us.
When I fell silent with fear, Henri opened the limo door, and without protest, I slid inside. I felt like blowing up at that moment, but I also felt oddly exhausted. Dawn wasn't near yet, was it? Maybe it was hunger. I looked at Henri, but he averted his gaze. I sighed. "Where are we going now?"
"The Dakota."
"Why?"
"To see Kira."
Kira Sinclair, Henri's sister... but why? "Because?"
"She's going to continue your training. Kira will be teaching you all you need to know to survive as a vampire."
Well, that sounded fun...
Good thing the sarcasm hadn't died with my other human qualities.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it :3 Vote + comment and thanks again for reading ;) I really appreciate it! :D See y'all Saturday for the next chapter! Whoo XD
Picture: Caitlin Stasey as witchy-bitch Maria Day! ;D
Video: Black Magic by Magic Wands
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~ Fangs & Kisses ~