Hecate's Gift (Ari & Soren Book 2)

Chapter 2 - Ari

I stood at the kitchen window, sipping a cup of coffee, and trying to blink the sleep from my eyes. I'd woken late and texted Ben that I needed to postpone our meeting at the museum until after noon. It was already past eleven, and I still felt drained.

Literally drained.

I tried to minimize the effects for Soren's sake, but his vampiric habits took their toll. My body couldn't regenerate blood as fast as he needed to consume it, and it left me slightly anemic. If I were a normal person, it would have been much worse.

I could no longer tap into the great well of living magic that had inhabited my body a few months back, but the spell had left its marks on me. Four, to be exact. One on each of my palms, one over my heart, and the little seven-pointed star on my forehead.

The marks on my hands represented life and death, and through these, I was able to access the ambient energies of the natural world. My ability to do so was feeble compared to when I'd been bound to the great spell, but sufficient for me to replenish my own vitality after Soren fed.

I sighed, thinking I'd better get to it if I was going to get anything done today.

Outside, I sat on my favorite flat-topped rock and gazed at the view. Our tiny bungalow was perched on a cliff above the edge of the sea, about 30 minutes up the coast from the small town of Santa Marina, California.

I'd lived most of my life in that town, residing with my uncle after the deaths of my parents when I was sixteen. Unfortunately, Uncle Theo had tangled himself in the affairs of the necromantic cult that tried to kill me last fall, and had paid for his mistakes with his life.

The old house held too many memories now, and I'd been glad to move out when Soren's unthinkably wealthy father purchased this place for us as a gift.

Settling into a light meditative trance, I expanded my awareness. Like the ceaseless rhythm of the waves on the pebbly beach far below, or the rise and fall of my own breath, the energies of life and death permeated the ever-changing fabric of the world around me.

I held my left hand, bearing the sign for life, over my solar plexus, and my right, with the sign for death, palm up in the air before me. Breathing in, I welcomed the flow of energy that filled me, gradually restoring the vital forces in my body.

An hour later I felt markedly better. Not fully recovered, but well enough to function normally. With a few more sessions, I'd be completely restored.

For the moment, I had an appointment with a haunted object to keep.

~

I pulled up in front of the old Victorian townhouse that had, until recently, been my home, and checked myself in the mirror. Except for the bruise on my jaw, I looked normal. Almost. I adjusted the light scarf I'd taken to wearing to hide the bite marks on my neck, and steeled myself for an encounter with Ben.

Ben and his boyfriend, Matt, had moved in to my uncle's old house when I moved out. They took care of the museum and its occupants and oversaw the upkeep of the house. In exchange, I significantly undercharged them on rent.

I should also mention that Ben is my ex... something. Our relationship had lasted a little less than a year, and ended because of my asexuality. We'd reconnected right before the business with the necromancers, and now he was firmly back in my life. The dynamic didn't always make for the most comfortable of situations.

He greeted me with a hug at the door and ushered me inside with offers of coffee and scones, which I declined. Matt had gone out to run an errand, it seemed, and we sat in the parlor to wait for him.