Bloody Hell (The Legacy of a Vampire Witch #1) [E-BOOK]

October 31, 1891

I clutched at my chest as I coughed. I spit the blood into the bowl beside my bed. The cough. Night sweats. A fever. The same symptoms my mother and sister displayed—the symptoms of consumption. They died shortly thereafter. Rest in a sanatorium—that was what the doctors had prescribed. Now my father wanted to send me there, too. I’d be damned before they locked me up. There’s only one way out of a sanatorium if you have consumption—in a casket. Sure, these places were supposed to give us the rest we needed to get well. Bullshit. I didn’t know a single person who’d gone there and walked out alive. I was only nineteen. To hell with the sanatorium. I was too young to die.
It was the night of Samhain—the night of the dead, where the veil between worlds is the thinnest. If ever there was a time when the coven could help, it was now. Still shivering, I wrapped myself in a wool blanket, pushed open my bedroom window, and darted off into the woods. According to Moll—the witch who led our coven—any witch who contracted consumption should seek her out. Where the physicians’ power ended, she claimed hers began.
I had to move quickly. If my father discovered I’d left, he’d go to any end to track me down. And if he’d known I was a witch… If he realized what my friends and I did out in the woods… I won’t say he’d have me burned, though had I been born at an earlier time, that’s exactly what would have happened. Still, as a pious man, devout and faithful to Puritan beliefs, he’d certainly have little tolerance for my practice of the Craft.
The breeze coursed through the trees, casting moving shadows along the path. As the sun continued to set, the shadows disappeared—but I knew these trails well. I’d traveled them, by day or by night, many times before. Usually I’d hear singing or at least some conversation as I approached the wooded sanctuary.
But as I entered the clearing only Moll stood there, her cauldron boiling as it sat suspended over a blazing fire. It was a unique cauldron—not that cauldrons are particularly popular items. This one, though, had a unique scratch spanning its circumference. I didn’t know how it got the scratch. It was probably just a simple accident.
Still, it made her cauldron distinctly identifiable. There were witches’ cauldrons, generally, and then there was Moll’s cauldron. And using another witch’s cauldron is sort of like using someone else’s toothbrush or wearing their underwear. You just don’t do it. First, ew. But second, it’s one of those things that’s just personal, no matter how close you might be to someone.
“I’ve been expecting you, Mercy,” Moll said, a gentle smile gracing her otherwise wrinkled and weathered face. Her hair long and white, she wore a long black robe. She held her wand in her hand, and with it cast a circle around the clearing.
I coughed, spitting my blood on the ground.
“Come, dear,” Moll said. “Perhaps we can soothe your pangs.”
“I’m afraid, Moll,” I said. “These are the same symptoms my mother and my sister had… shortly before they died.”
“Are you afraid to die?”
“Of course,” I said. “Isn’t everybody?”
“Then don’t,” Moll said.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t die, of course.”
I squinted my eyes. If it were so easy as choosing not to die, no one ever would. “How is this possible?”
A broad, close-mouthed grin split Moll’s face. “There may be a way, my dear. But it comes with a cost.”
“What cost is too great for one’s life?”
Moll continued walking around the circle, turning to the north, south, east, and west. Calling upon the elements of air, earth, water, and fire. “The costs, my dear, are many. But the greatest of these is your soul.”
I tilted my head. “Not much of a cost, if that’s the worst of it. So far as I know, the soul’s purpose is to carry me into heaven if I die. But if I would never die…”
“It is quite an acceptable cost, is it not?” Moll asked.
I coughed again, pulling my blanket more tightly around my body. “What does it take, just a spell?”
“The spell we’re casting, dear, is to sustain your life when the one who would give you the gift of life eternal visits you in the night.”
“Is it… a demon?”
“Oh heavens no,” Moll said. “Though some might mistake him for one. He looks as human as you are, apart from the red of his eyes and, of course, his teeth. After all, he was a human once. Many centuries ago.”
“So he lives forever, too?”
“He does, child,” Moll said. “And if he deems you desirable, he might grant you his gift.”
I took a deep breath. Living forever? I couldn’t even get my mind around the idea. “So I won’t die, then?”
“You will draw as close to death as any might. Were it not for this spell, the one we intend to perform tonight, you would not survive the transformation.”
“The transformation?”
“You do not imagine you could live forever without some manner of change, do you?”
“Of course not,” I said. “But what is the… nature… of this transformation?”
“What does it matter?” Moll asked. “Your life will endure. You will be beautiful. You will move as swiftly as an angel of the night.”
“And this spell, the one we’re preparing?”
“Quite painless, dear,” Moll said. “But if I prepare you for this gift, I trust I might continue to have your loyalty.”
“Of course,” I said. “And the rest of the coven?”
“Do not speak to them of this gift,” Moll said. “I’ve chosen you and you alone for this privilege.”
“Why me?”
“I must confess,” Moll said, “my reasons are somewhat selfish. In all my years I’ve seen few with such natural talent in our arts. I am unwilling to let you go as much as you are unwilling to die.” Moll pulled a small burlap sack from her robe and dumped its contents into the cauldron. “The only ingredient that remains, my dear, is your blood.”
“I’m coughing up blood,” I said. “Will that work?”
“Yes, dear.”
I approached the cauldron, took a deep breath, and coughed hard, a heavy dose of blood filling my mouth. I spit it into the cauldron. The boil intensified, the cauldron’s contents turning from green to red.
Moll dipped a ladle into the cauldron. “Drink it all, dear.”
As she lifted the ladle to my lips, I sipped it—it was bitter, difficult to stomach. I winced as the potion scalded my tongue and the roof of my mouth.
“Very good, dearest Mercy,” Moll said. “You must return home and take your rest. Within three months of tonight you will receive a visitor. Do not resist him.”
“Three months?” I asked. “I don’t know if I’ll even live that long…”
“The magic will sustain you for three moons. During that time, you will remain as you are—but you will not fall further ill. Your life will endure through your transformation.”
“Thank you, Moll.”
“Direct your gratitude to the goddess, my dear. And do not forget with whom this gift originated. Do not forget your promise of fidelity to our coven. I have great plans for you, still.”

All digital products (including e-books and audiobooks) are delivered by our partners at Bookfunnel! Here's how you can download your books after purchase.

1. You'll receive an e-mail from help@bookfunnel.com (if you don't see it, check your spam folder)

2. Follow the instructions to download the book or send it to your favorite device, e.g. Kindle, Nook, iPad, etc.

ALTERNATIVELY: Go to my.bookfunnel.com and log-in or sign-up using the same e-mail you purchased with and all your books will be waiting for you on your bookshelf!