Chapter 15

After I’d climbed out of bed and began my day, it took me a while to shake the nightmare, the two young girls, and seeing what I theorized was the end of a civilization. Had Lafoa even been a real place, though? I didn’t know, but I needed to find out. I’d already made coffee, and had two slices of bacon and an egg sitting on a plate, and carrying the plate over to the table, I sat it down on its surface and pulled out a chair. As I settled into the seat, I pulled my phone toward me from where I’d set it on the table-top earlier.

Teeth sinking into the slice of bacon between my fingers, I chewed as I brought up my search engine. With a finger, I tapped in the word Lafoa, and was shocked to see all the urls that popped up. Humph, guess this place was a popular lookup.

I scanned the addresses, reading the descriptions beneath them, before finally settling on one, I clicked the link.

The site said that Lafoa has never been proven to exist, but is rumored to have been sometime in the Neolithic phase of Greek history, and located within the Argolic Gulf. It was during this time period that the spreading of farming came to Greece. This was as well, the time that many developments occurred, such as mixed farming, stock rearing and the megaron and Tsangli type of architecture. Tools and elaborate art came into existence during this period as well. It was also said that the continent of Lafoa was supposed to be inhabited by magical beings, and that war destroyed the landmass.

By the time I had finished reading, I had finished off my bacon and egg, and drank two cups of coffee. Now, needing to relieve my bladder, I stood and made my way to the bathroom. Though I was up, I hadn’t dressed yet, and after finishing up in the bathroom, I made my way into my bedroom. Unsure of what my plans were going to be for the day, so I dressed in a pair of shorts and tank, then slid my feet into a pair of tennis shoes; if anything came up, I’d just change into something else.

As I headed back out of my room, I grabbed a bottle of water and my cell, then headed out the door. It was time for me to practice.

A few minutes later, I stood within the space I had cleared with a small wave of my hand. I would restore the trees and undergrowth to its original state later.

After placing my cell and water bottle on the ground near me, I began forming a quarter-size ball of fire within my palms, then lifting it to my lips, I breathed lightly on it. Ribbon-like furls began to twine upward from my palm, and stretched outward, supplying the nearby air a kiss of its heat in greeting.

Slowly, I began to move my hand, causing the flame to dance with my movements. As I twirled the flame, I slowly began to move, my hips swinging to an inward beat. As my head filled with music, my body moved faster, my arms and hips moving sensually. The euphoric feeling my dancing always enshrouded me with, slid over my body, and the voices came. It had taken me a while to understand what I was hearing were the voices of the past: those that had passed on. I had never really labeled myself, but Brielle had called me a Necromancer and I guess that was as good a title as any, as I was capable of speaking with the dead. When I had first realized the voices of the people I was hearing were no longer alive, it had freaked me the hell out. However, Brielle had been with me, and had assured me I needn’t fear the dead. That whatever I brought forward could not harm me, for I was immortal.

I had decided before I had even begun my dance, that I was going to try and reach out to the two young girls of my nightmare. Whoever they were, they were somehow connected to me and Brielle and I hoped to gain answers of how. But when I couldn’t summon them, for the first time ever, I felt let down by my magic. Ready to end my session, I was just preparing to reel in my connection whip, when another voice stopped me dead. It was the same voice who had beseeched me to learn who I was.

“Sydney, remember me, please. It is I, Lielyn.”

*Lielyn? The elder sister*? Okaay.
“Do you hear me, sister?” she questioned.

*Sister? What the fuck!*

“How,” I gasp. “How can I be your sister?”

“You and Brielle rode the lightning. You now exist in the future, but our time still exists. You must come back before it is too late.”

I gave a snort. “Uh, yeah. That might be a little difficult.”

“Please, little sister, I play not. Journey back to Lafoa. You must hurry, time is short….”

Suddenly my connection to Lielyn broke, and my flame whip snapped back into my hand, reforming its ball. I gave a startled jerk for I had never had a summoning end in this manner. With a shake of my head, I extinguished the tiny ball, then rubbed at the small sting left behind in my palm. Well, if that wasn’t weird as fuck!

Slowly the sensation crept through me that I was being watched, and eyes swinging about the shrouded area of the woods, I searched for the source of the unsettling feeling, but could find nothing. With quick movements, I swooped up my cell and water bottle, then with a quick wave of my hand, I restored the area to its former state, then fled the wetland. I may be immortal, but I’d be damned if whatever kept stalking me, didn’t give me the sense that my being a powerful witch and immortal was no threat to it at all.

DECLAN

Darkness surrounded me, save for the light produced by the fire in the hearth, its heat licking at my skin, but unable to banish the coldness that has settled deep within my bones. The old recliner creaked as I stretched my legs out, my bare feet resting against the braided rug that had been stretched out across the hardwood floor since I was a young boy. My entire body felt stiff, muscles tense as I stared blindly out the clear glass window revealed between a set of open drapes, their color as black as night.

More and more lately, I’ve found myself missing time. At first it was thirty minutes here and there that I was unable to account for, but as time wore on, it extended from minutes to sometimes even days that would be lost to me.

Swirling the whiskey within my tumbler, I relish the burn as it slides down my throat, warming my chest, more than aware that before long, it too will be lost to me. The amber liquid provides a different kind of reprieve, the kind that brings about a numbness that nothing else has been able to provide.

Bringing the tumbler to my lips once more, I revel in the sensation, savoring it slowly. I know that my time is almost up, I can feel the darkness taking over more and more of my soul with each passing day. Soon, there would be nothing of the man that I once was left. Soon, there would be nothing stopping me from giving into the deep desires of the monster growing within me. A monster that wants nothing more than to destroy the one woman who is forbidden to me. The one woman who owns my heart. Soon, the monster within would no doubt try to kill Sydney.

THREE DAYS LATER

As I’ve often done lately, I lounged in my recliner, a tumbler of whiskey once more clasped in my hand as I became lost in memories of the past. Lost in the nights that Sydney would seek me out for comfort when a nightmare would wake her. Nights that as we grew older, I yearned to feel her supple body against my own. The heat of her body made me hard as I’d held her in my arms, my body wrapped around her much smaller one, her wild hair tickling my nose with her every intake of breath.

Shaking away thoughts of the past, I took another draw from the glass, the effects of the cool liquid no longer working, but old habits die hard, I think as the liquid coats the back of my throat.

As the moon poked through the trees outside of the window, its allure drew me to my feet, the pull too great to deny. The tumbler fell from my grasp as my hands began to tremble. “No.” I thought to myself. “It's too soon. This can’t be happening, not yet.”

I shook my head in denial, not ready for the transformation that is to come. I was supposed to have a few more months before the curse took effect. A fear unlike anything that I have felt before hits me out of nowhere. It’s grip on me nearly suffocating, even more so than the fear that overtook me the day that my eldest brother was lost to us, taken by the creature that haunts the wetlands.

Even more so than the night I’d taken Sydney in my truck, and the ramifications of what I’d done had sunk in as I drove like a bat out of hell away from her.

The fear is the first and only thing I have felt in what feels like years. But, just as the sensation had struck, hitting me hard and fast, it went away as quickly, leaving me feeling numb once more.

I was becoming a monster known as a Darkmore—some would call it a werewolf—it wasn’t. It was something so much worse. It wasn’t like the shifters, wolves born with the genetic makeup of a human and wolf, but rather a Sylph, an air spirit whose genetic makeup was suddenly and violently altered. A genetic abnormality cursed upon my family.