poisoned blades 2
The Corrupt
“So Nightshade Gerard is going to take your place,” Salem, Nightshade’s cousin asked.
“Yes, we’re the honorable mentions of tomorrow,” Midnight replied he studied his nails.
“Oh, dear brother,” Salem started, “I fear that Nightshade will do something foolish to spoil the ceremony.”
“And why is that?” Midnight asked.
“You haven’t noticed how oddly he’s been acting—even for himself? At the mere mention of a raid on the Deverill coven he flinches.”
“He has a weak stomach, we learned that when we were younger,” Midnight replied evenly.
“Maybe I am reading too far into our coven’s eccentric,” Salem stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“I’d say so,” Midnight shrugged. “I feel like it’s a bad idea giving the coven to the oldest of each generation over the most capable, but hey,” he shrugged once again, “It is tradition.”
“This is a fleeting thought, brother,” Salem murmured, “But isn’t it odd that everybody else in the family is blonde, save Nightshade?”
“I’ve noticed that, but again, black sheep,” Midnight replied.
“Windfire has red hair and her entire family has brown hair,” Salem added thoughtfully.
“Yes, and she’s filled out nicely as a priestess,” Midnight drooled.
“I wonder who’ll bed her first…” Salem daydreamed. “Her sisters and cousins aren’t bad either.”
“The thought of sleeping with witches is disgusting, but then again, humans are too afraid of us to even be taken in as brides…” Midnight mused.
“I take it that we’re both looking forward to being the murderous winds beside the three older boys?”
“Indeed…power, sex, dark magic, treachery…” Midnight smirked, “That, dear brother, is paradise.”
“That it is,” Salem replied. “Speaking of the coattails we’ll be riding...I haven’t seen any of them.”
“Come to think of it me either. Perhaps we should act concerned with the ceremonies being tomorrow?” Midnight offered.
“Let us act,” Salem said enthusiastically.
“Dark mother?” Midnight called as he approached the dining hall.
The fair blonde human who mothered Nightshade and his brothers turned to her nephews, “Yes?”
“Have you seen the boys?” Midnight inquired.
“We’re a bit concerned. We haven’t seen them for quite some time,” Salem said thoughtfully.
The dark mother nodded, “I see. They went to offer a sacrifice to the dark god before tomorrow.”
“Did they say where they were going?” Midnight asked.
“No,” the dark mother shook her head. “But all three of them went together. Come to think of it, it has been a few hours….”
“Perhaps we should set out to find them? Before it gets too late…” Salem thought aloud.
“If you’re that worried, I’d say to go for it,” the dark mother said with a wry smile.
“We may be late for dinner,” Midnight said thoughtfully. “But we’ll be back.”
“Hopefully with them…” Salem added before they dashed off.
The dark mother—their highest ranked human who can learn dark magic to pair off with her husband and the father of the coven’s heir—smirked, watching the last she would ever see of the nephews that she despised. “Nightshade, my dear son…you will live to be greater than this earth has for you. And my magic will allow you to succeed in life and hereafter.”
The dark mother gasped as she felt a blade fall into her back before she thudded to the castle ground. Lucithet, her husband stood, holding the poisoned red and green knife. “And I will have the power that you blessed our son with you no-good white witch,” the handsome blonde man growled.
“Lucithet…I love you,” Virgine, his wife and dark mother begged as she grasped toward him.
“Did you think that I didn’t know that you were a Francois white witch healer?” Lucithet spat.
“I changed for you…” Virgine replied.
“You should be proud. You’re the first sacrifice that I am offering to the horned god,” Lucithet said with a wicked grin. “Don’t worry. The friends you see in the Deverill coven will not be spared young Windfire’s ceremony. All present Deverill and Francois will perish to my blades, my magic, my bloodline….
“The goddess will protect your boys from harm, and protect my girls from harm…” Virgine swore as she glared up into her husband’s piercing blue eyes.
“We’ll see how that works at about midnight tonight when both ceremonies are rumored to be held. Although Nightshade’s will wait until every Deverill witch is dead.”
“Our son is not evil…”
“He will be evil or he will die,” Lucithet replied. “And don’t bother getting up. The poison paralyzes your nervous system. Ironically, you will be killed by the son you wanted to protect from me. I say that because the poison on this blade is from a deadly nightshade’s entire plant.”
“And I curse you! Your entire bloodline will forget magic of all sorts! Your son will shatter your soul!” Virgine spat.
“Goodbye, traitorous love,” Lucithet continued on his way to his study.

poisoned blades 4