Vampires Realm Prophecy 01 - Child of Light

ached and her stomach twisted.
    She tried to sit up, but found that she couldn’t move her hands. She looked at her left hand and attempted to lift it off the table but it wouldn’t shift. In desperation, she tried to move her ankles and found they were stuck too. A chill of fear swept through her. It was as though she was being restrained but couldn’t see the bonds.
    “The boy can see her.” The tall witch cast a glance at the door.
    “Likes her.”
    “Has tasted her.”
    She felt a finger run over the marks on her throat and furrowed her brows. She tried to move away from it and desperately wriggled. There was something soothing about their voices as they continued to talk and she began to focus on them, shutting out the fear that was engulfing her and the spots of searing pain that began to burn deeper at her shoulders and over her chest and stomach.
    “Their paths are entwined.”
    “Now.”
    “Forever.”
    Whose paths? Were they talking about Valentine and her? They said he had tasted her, and that he liked her and could see her. See her how? There had to be a deeper meaning to it than just being able to physically see her. Was it because of the blood he had taken from her? Were they talking about the vision he’d had?
    “It is a good match.” The thin witch’s hands began to get closer to her, still drawing the invisible symbols in the air.
    “He will protect her.” The short one’s hands edged towards her, matching the descent of the thin one’s.
    “Save her.” The young one smiled at her and brought her hands down to hover over her chest. She craned her neck to see what was happening as the witch continued to draw symbols.
    “Like she will save him.” They all spoke at once and fiery pain ripped through her body as their fingers touched her, moving in a pattern against her skin and searing her.
    The thin one’s hands were marking her shoulders and she could feel the short one touching her stomach while the youngest witch drew upon her chest. Prophecy could see faint marks appearing as the witch’s hand moved faster and faster until it was almost a blur.
    She felt numb when all the pain focused on where their hands were touching her and she screwed her eyes shut as it began to intensify, making the points where they were in contact with her feel as though someone was pushing a hot poker into her flesh.
    She arched off the table, flung her head back and screamed.
    * * * *
    Valentine ran to the door the moment he head her scream and pounded it with his fists. She sounded petrified, in pain, and he had to get to her. He banged on the ice, hitting it with everything he had and growling when it didn’t break.
    “Prophecy!”
    He was thrown away from the door by some invisible force and reacted quickly when his senses screamed danger at him. He flipped backwards over the cold fire, narrowly avoiding it and coming to land gracefully on the other side of it on one knee and with one hand pressing into the floor.
    He looked up the instant the door opened and stood, ready to fight if he had to.
    It was Prophecy.
    She looked white as snow against her black clothing, her body trembling as she held herself tightly, and he knew it wasn’t the cold that had done this to her. It was the witches. He went to attack them when they appeared behind Prophecy but the youngest one stopped him dead in his tracks by simply holding her hand up.
    “We did not harm her,” the thin one said.
    “She will be stronger,” the short one continued.
    “Stronger now than ever,” the youngest witch finished.
    “Prophecy?” He looked at her.
    She was shaking badly, her eyes fixed on the fire in a distant stare and her arms crossed over her chest, her hands gripping her shoulders. He went to move closer to her but she backed away, her eyes wide when she finally looked at him. She blinked rapidly and furrowed her brows.
    “What did you do to her?” He didn’t hide his anger as he looked at the three witches who were standing behind Prophecy.
    They didn’t answer him either. They were more interested in Prophecy.
    She had turned to face them, her body still shivering and her lips as ashen as her cheeks. It made her red hair look like blood against white tiles and an image of the nightclub bathroom flashed in front of his eyes. He wanted to lick his lips as he remembered the sight of Prophecy’s mouth covered in blood. He had to get some food, and not just for himself. Whatever they had done to her, she looked