poisoned blades 15
The Treachery Continues
Windfire lay curled up beside Nightshade. Her hair was an artistic mess of fire that surrounded both of them, his hair also ruffled badly as he pulled his wife closer against him. She nestled him, kissing his cheek gently and sighing as she rested her head on his chest. He began mindlessly coiling his fingers throughout her crimson tresses as he tried to calm himself down. She was watching him intently and with a hint of curiosity. Redness spread across his cheeks as she crawled on top of him and rested her chin on her arms that she folded on his chest.
Her blue eyes looked nigh white…a bright blue-white color since the ceremony and his dark blue eyes glinted black. That was the only change between the two of them. He met her gaze and for some odd reason he felt inept. “Yes, Windy?”
“Shade…” she whispered, “What’s wrong?”
He blinked, “Why would you assume something was wrong?”
“Well,” she blushed, “You haven’t said a word…”
He smiled and caressed her cheek. “Don’t worry yourself over nothing. I was just thinking a good bit.”
“Well, what kind of thoughts were occupying your thoughts?”
He glanced away from her, still blushing, “H-how long have you experienced the sexual dreams?”
“Over the last few years,” Windfire answered.
“Well, every single desire that we had ever felt because of the dream, or whether pent-up feelings were the cause of the dreams…we have done it…”
“I know,” she moaned. She sat up a little and kissed him. “And it was over-due.”
“I was tempted in the crypts,” Nightshade admitted.
“When exactly?”
“Every time I looked at you,” he said evenly.
Windfire considered his words and smiled. “You could have when I was sleeping and I would never know…”
“I think you’d notice…” Nightshade squeaked in embarrassment. She was laying on him for the horned god’s sake! How could he not consider it? She was clinging to him for dear life! She was pressed up against him….
“Something else wrong?”
“Not at al,” he lied. He’d managed to arouse himself again. Picturing how empowered she was as a woman was such a sensual thought to him. She looked like a frail, defenseless woman, but she could throw around magic and swing her staff better than most warlocks he had ever seen.
“You know that you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”
Nightshade smiled. “That is something I am going to have to get used to.” He leaned up and kissed her as he ran the tips of his fingers over her bare flesh. He pulled her onto him and found his fingers in her luscious red hair as she ran her fingers through his mess of black, tattered locks. He rolled her over and kissed down her soft flesh….
Windfire sighed happily as she joined her husband in ceremony. She and he were sky clad and holding hands over the black cauldron of the Gerard family. They had chanted, both of them beckoning to both the god and goddess—something unheard of in the covens of both witches and warlocks. It was blaspheming and never attempted…as far as they knew.
An image became clear from the smoking cauldron. The horned god had appeared from the strong Gerard blood—the treacherous blood that ran cold through Nightshade’s veins. The winged goddess also appeared from the vibrant Deverill blood—the insidious blood that was worthy of further empowerment.
“Why have you summoned me?” the horned god’s voice hit a pang of familiarity with Nightshade.
“I am asking for guidance, my god,” Nightshade explained.
“And why am I summoned into your home?” the goddess was staring into Windfire’s eyes.
“I seek guidance from you, great witch…” Windfire bowed.
“I sense great treachery in you, Nightshade. Why would you need inspiration with a natural talent?” the god asked.
“You approve of the treachery that I have planned?” Nightshade was a little befuddled. Ever since his ceremony he was unsure of why he had the eyes of the god—an exclusive honor in the warlock coven’s eyes.
“I am looking forward to seeing you take my throne,” the god replied.
“And you have helped your husband with this treachery this far,” the goddess knew, “so you do not need our assistance.”
“But you two hate one another.” Nightshade looked between the two, “So why are you approving of what we want to do?”
“Humans assume so many things,” the goddess said quietly.
“You mean to tell us that you don’t hate one another?” Windfire gripped Nightshade’s hand as she spoke.
“We are lovers, young couple. We’re a witch and warlock who have found true love in the other,” the god’s voice was soft now, and he was smiling. “And you can be his lover in your next life, Windfire.”
“You mean that?” Windfire gasped.
“He does.” The goddess caressed the god’s cheek with her hand, “And only soul mates can be the true god and goddess. Otherwise an unstoppable war would spill over onto heaven and earth.”
“I do want you both to watch for the knives that will find your backs. A disfavored marriage isn’t the grounds for treachery against you. A keen eye is what endangers your cause,” the god explained.
“Somebody is already plotting against us?” Nightshade asked.
“Yes, and there is one from each of your family’s,” the goddess looked worried.
“Th-thank you,” Windfire bowed.
“Windfire, you carry my eyes. You aren’t required to bow,” the goddess said warmly before disappearing with the smoke from the cauldron.
“Thank you both,” Nightshade smiled as he watched the last puff of smoke break apart in the castle’s air.
They stared up at the smoke for a long moment before they looked at one another. “Are you worried?” Windfire asked.
“No,” Nightshade shook his head. “Even if we are executed from this life early, we will be together in the next life.”
“You’re right…” Windfire kissed him.
Crystalwind pricked the tip of her finger with her athane. They had been fools to let her run the blade across their flesh during the wedding ceremony. She now had a sample of both of their blood and she was now readying a curse for her daughter.
She mixed all three samples of blood and said a prayer. “My daughter shall not bear the child to the man she so deeply…loves!” the older woman spat the last word. “If she wants to betray her blood, then her betrayal will not be passed to the next generation.”
Crystalwind thought for a moment. “Perhaps with the power of the Deverill witches and the Gerard warlocks their children would be even more powerful than even myself?” She stroked her chin as she stared at the mortar and pestle that were stained with several weeds and three samples of blood. “They would be born in the Gerard castle. They’d be worthless to me,” she finally decided as she lit the reagents on fire, smiling as she watched the flames crackle.
“And here,” Lucithet whistled as he added a poison to his cauldron’s bubbling contents. He was in a lighter mood now that his suspicions had been confirmed. He had begun to watch his oldest son more closely and he learned quickly that the interest in Windfire was far from faked.
He wrapped a red ribbon around the doll that he had in hand. The doll he held was his representation of Nightshade. He dropped the doll into the cauldron and watched the liquid turn from green to red in his darkened chambers.
As treacherous as his son was, he’d prove to be worse. He’d rogue the one thing he knew his son wanted that he could control. “And that filthy liar will never give seed to that witch!” he spat, hating himself more than anything. He had actually approved of the wedding. He had actually believed his son. “I won’t step in too obviously this soon. My son might actually prove useful despite his sins against his own blood.” Lucithet looked thoughtfully into the red bubbling and smoking concoction.

poisoned blades 17