The Curse II

Aldren pulled the front door open, seeing four burly men, all wearing the same black shirt. His hybrids, behind them, followed a ravenette. Tall statuesque, wearing a black laced skin tight dress. Accentuating all of her best features, long shapely legs, small waist, and plump bosom. Emily Pasco.

The woman in her early 30's was one of his best, but most of all, he considered her as one of the few witches he considered loyal to him.

Her rouge lips stretched into a smile the second she laid eyes on him; she happened to also be in love with him from his observation. He smiled, offering his arms to her, and she came in accepting the hug.

"My lord," she muttered still with the lovestruck look in her eyes. Nothing has changed, he realized.

"Emily, thank you for coming in such short notice," he said, then turning to his hybrids, who nodded to him in acknowledgment and respect.

He looked at the two on his left, "You two, clean up. I have three dead bodies. 2 guardians in the basement, and a witch in the bedroom upstairs." he said, and the two disappeared.

He then turned to the other two, "Stand guard; I doubt they'll arrive before we leave, but better safe than sorry," he said, and the two nodded, one leaving to survey the surroundings.

Then he turned to the witch beside him, "Emily, I need you to look at a woman. A hybrid, to be precise." he said, and as he expected, surprise flashed in her light brown eyes.

"I want her alive." he said, "I trust you shall make it so," he added, earning a nod from her. Of course, she will; she was there to serve her life to him. Lay it if need be.

"She's upstairs. A young witch is with her; use her as you see fit," he said, and she made her way immediately.

Her light brown eyes scanned the room, noticing the decapitated body on the floor, blood pooling beneath it, and ahead staring straight at her.

Then her eyes rested on the movement to her right, young man; this must be the witch her Lord had spoken of. She proceeded to the bed, noticing the body lying there—a platinum blonde in her early 20's. A blanket covering her, she pulled it and saw her blood-stained clothes. She studied her aura; she could feel it flickering.

"You, get me water and a towel," she instructed the young witch.

"Now," she said when the girl remained on her spot as if lost in her thoughts. Tracey blinked, realizing the woman was talking to her, and she disappeared to the kitchen to get what the woman needed. She returned carrying the basin to the bedroom and placing it on the bedside table minutes after.

"Anything?" Aldren spoke the moment he entered the room, his eyes resting on the blonde's pale face. "Her magic is unstable; I feel it," Emily said, turning to look at her master.

"May I ask what happened, my Lord?" Emily asked, taking note of how his eyes darkened for a second, the white of his eyes shifting to black. His beast resurfaced for a second or two that it showed on his usually normal face. "Guardians appeared, we were attacked, shit happened," he said.

"What's wrong?" he asked, recognizing her look.

Emily's eyes shifted wearily to the other witch in the room for a moment; something Aldren took notice of. He turned to Tracey, knowing Emily wanted to tell him something private.

"You, fetch me something to drink. There better be booze in here, or I'll have your blood quench my thirst instead," he ordered, and the young witch hurried away to search for liquor.

Once the girl was gone, he turned to Emily as if to say go on.

Emily placed her palm against the blonde's chest, and she closed her eyes, feeling her energy, then opened it again.

"There is an imbalance within her," she told him, "She is weak. I feel the wolf, and the witch inside her are in disharmony. They are not one, and seemingly in war," she added, causing Aldren's brows to furrow. He didn't like how that sounded.

"Whatever her two spirits were going through is messing with her recovery," she told him. "Can you do anything to find out why?" he asked.

"Not here, my lord, and not alone," she admitted; she needed help from the other witches. And most of all, resources.

"For now, I can perform a spell to boost her energy. Hopefully, it will be enough for her to support her recovery," she said, and he nodded. It was good enough for now.

"What do you plan to do with the young witch?" she asked, curious. "Do whatever you please with her," he told her, knowing full well of the woman's sadistic nature. Emily smiled; she had been searching for a witch's heart for a complicated spell she was working on. Now she has found one.

Aldren shot Emily a look, sensing the woman climbing up the stairs. She approached him warily, handing him an empty glass, her other hand holding a bottle of bourbon. Her grandmother enjoyed a good drink once in a while.

Aldren took the glass and watched her pour him a glass; he sniffed it then gulped down the liquor in satisfaction. He needed to keep the edge off. He took the bottle from her hand and shooed her away, watching as Emily performed her spell.

Minutes later, he felt something the same second; he felt it in his body. Emily turned to look at her. She had felt it too. MAGIC.

Aldren smashed the glass to the floor, and he blurred towards where the young witch scent was strongest. The toilet.

He pounded on the door; there was a barrier. A small one, "Open the door, little witch." he demanded. "I will not ask again," he warned. Emily followed behind him, and he shot her a look, and she stood started to chant before the door. It wouldn't take long for her to disable her elementary barrier spell she had created.

Aldren felt it. And he groaned, what was that pain? He wondered. What was that heat radiating from his heart to his body—the burning fire within him.

He gripped against his chest, and he screamed in pain.

Emily's eyes widened when seconds later, he collapsed to the floor.