Betrayal by a Witch

1871, Chicago

He knew why he had come to Chicago. The growing city he had not seen in six long years. Six years since her, the witch who had haunted his dreams every dark night. She had haunted his very soul, plagued his very being all these years. Now, he was here for her. Here to take his revenge for what she did to him years ago. She was in the city. He knew she was her, because it was the last place he had seen the witch. Exactly to this night was the last time he had seen her. The man beside him started to fidget back and forth on his feet as a cold gust of wind blew in their direction.

“Stop the nonsense, Jacob.” The vampire knew the man was cold. It was October after all, but he was starting to grind the vampire’s nerves.

“I’m s-sorry, m’lord, M-master Marcus.” Jacob stammered. His servant was a good two feet shorter than Marcus, with red curled strands crushed against his square forehead. Jacob had a broad crooked nose from being broken one too many times. He had been in Marcus’ employee for four years when he caught the small Irish man breaking into his home. Marcus offered him a job or his death. The man took the job. Jacob shivered, drawing his heavy frock tighter around his shoulders and pulling his hat farther down on his head in an attempt to block the chill of the fall.

Marcus didn’t need a frock as heavy as his servant’s. He only wore what was needed for the fashion of this century, but he refused to wear a hat and to carry a cane. He preferred to stay clean shaven instead of growing a mustache like other men who chose to follow silly fashion rules. He was rich enough to afford the oddity not to follow society rules. However, he knew it was bad for him to have any more unwanted talk, because there was a lot of gossip about the new handsome lord.

Marcus eyed his servant a few moments more before closing his eyes in concentration. With a tilt of his head back, he took a deep breath to open his heightened senses. The smell of a distant smoke and ash tickled is nose. There must have been a fire recently. And no wonder, he thought, the entire city is built with wood. And it is all dry wood from a very hot summer without the pleasure of rain. The smell of fresh lake water not far off made him smile. The smell of a few drunks leaving a tavern, stumbling over each other’s feet made his nose twitch with distaste. Their stench is sour and stale. The men had probably never heard of a bath. Marcus’ mouth turns down in a frown with his black brows turning along in his frustration. He took a deep breath to try it again, but this time he concentrated on only the memory of the witch’s scent.

He pictured her dark blonde waves falling down her back reaching to her waist, her liquid brown eyes almost the color of rich ale, her creamy white porcelain skin, and most of all the scent of her sweet innocent blood. He had loved to look at her, but the vampire in him would be able to find her anywhere simply because of her blood. Marcus smirks as he catches the scent he was looking for. Stupid witch, you should have known better than to have bonded with a vampire. He laughed softly. Before Marcus tore off in the direction of the woman he sought, he grabbed the hand of the man next to him. In a blur they are off past all the beautifully built wood buildings to the witch’s dwelling.

They stopped at a small wooden house, if it could be called a house, on 137 DeKoven Street. Marcus glared at the house. She had moved out of the house he had bought her. Anger a hot pounding pulse throughout his entire body. He wanted to kill the witch. Kill her for all of the anger inside of him. Marcus’ smile was small. He would get what he wanted from her. He would kill her. A glance to the side revealed a barn that was bigger than the house itself. It was falling apart from aged wood.

He regarded his servant, Jacob. “When I give you a nod inside the house, I want you to come out here to that barn and find a rope. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, m’lord, I understand.” Jacob said stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his warm frock.

Marcus returned to admiring her house. The pop of burning wood in a fireplace, then soft humming of a sweet voice to a song he used to know well, reached his ears. A feather-like pang shot through his chest and he growled the sensation away as he stomped up to the little house’s door. Marcus pushes the door open. He didn’t need an invite into the home, because she had already invited him into her heart.

The woman bending at the fire place whirled around with horror in her eyes. The horror extended to surprise then escalated to a new level of terror. As the emotions played a crossed her face, Marcus admired her beauty. Her long dark blonde hair-- almost a honey-gold color with the firelight background--fell over her shoulders and down her heaving chest stopping just at her waist, just like in his memories. He had always loved her long hair. Marcus could still remember the soft-silk-feel of that honey-hair on his fingertips. He had continuously insisted she keep it down, that was until he realized what she had done to him. His kind was not supposed to love a witch.

At one point in his life he hadn't cared what was expected of him. He wanted her. Marcus had fallen in love with a witch and didn’t care about rules. He was her man. His brother had tried to warn him not to sleep with her. Marcus didn’t listen. Now, he wished he had listened to his brother. A witch and a vampire were enemies. That was how it was supposed to be. They were enemies, not life mates. A vampire and a witch were never meant to be anything more than what they had always been.

Her light brown eyes began to shine with unshed tears. Even in a simple faded purple gown, she looked beautiful. The gown was indeed simple, meant for someone of lower class, but it was still fashionable. The corset hugged her upper body; it was one that laced in the front not in the back. The skirt of the gown wasn’t weighed down with too many under coats so that she could move more freely about the house. The sleeves of the gown flared out a little at the bottom. The purple color accented her honey blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Marcus loved the way the dress was cut a little too low. He could see the creamy swells of her breasts. It was a simple -but a beautifully fitting- gown on her.

“Marcus…” She whispered with her full rose petal lips.

“Corvina.” Marcus’ face remained unemotional.

Her lips trembled into a quiver. She licked her lips and raised her chin. “I-I’m sorry m’lord. If I knew you were coming for a visit, I would have tidied the house.”

Of course she wouldn’t ever think I would come to visit her home, he thought to himself fighting the vicious smile that wanted to surface. She probably dreamt about him coming back though. At this he did smile but it was not very vicious. Corvina dipped her knees and bowed her head in a quick curtsy as she remembered her manners. Marcus watched her closely. She kept her head down while constantly trying to get an imaginary wrinkle out of her dress.

“Now, Corvina, why act as if we are strangers?” Marcus’ asked, his voice never rose but echoed clearly throughout the room. Corvina’s heartbeat pounded faster in her chest and it caressed Marcus’ ears making him smile at the sound. She looked up at him. He watched her swallow the rising terror he could smell in the rush of her blood. He knew he must have looked hungry with that smile on his face. Marcus breathed deeply through his nose and smelt her sweet fear in her blood. He observed her squirm when he did it and she only got him to smile wider. He could almost taste her fear in the air.

“I said I would be back one day. Did you not believe me, My Raven?” Marcus viewed her reaction as she looked at him in surprise. Marcus got the distinct feeling that she was trying not to flee this room and into the only other room in the house. Marcus couldn’t see the other room, because it was being blocked by a wall. He didn’t care about the other room. He knew he was making Corvina very uncomfortable. Marcus was next to Corvina in a flash, blocking her way to the next room she so desperately wanted into. She became very still, but her heart gave her away.

“Do you know what today is, My Raven?” Marcus whispered in her ear, and then lightly brushed his lips on her cheek. When she didn’t respond, he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He tried to ignore her round hips pressing against him, but his body recognized the curves of her body. Marcus was being betrayed by his body and the anger coursing through his veins only heighted his reaction the woman in his arms.

“Is that a no? Well, let me tell you what today is, even though I think you truly do know. It’s the eighth of October. Do you remember that day, Corvina? Hmm, My Raven?” Marcus brushed her hair away from her neck.

“Y-y-yes I do r-remember, m’lord.” She choked past her lips.

“Oh, My Raven, please do call me by my name there is no need to be so formal between old friends, right?”

“You are correct, Marcus.” She said with a little more confidence.

Marcus smiled; there was a bit of that bite he knew she had in her. “It has been a long six years, yes?”

“Yes, six years is a long time. Why did you come back, Marcus? Why didn’t you come back sooner?” Corvina asked trying to turn in his arms, but he firmly kept her still.

Marcus placed a kiss at the juncture where her neck ended and shoulder began before he spoke. “I came back like I said I would. It might have taken me longer than I thought it would, but I have come back. I’ve came back to take what is due to me. You should have known better, Corvina, than to have bonded with me against my will. It has taken me years to really understand my hate for you. You may have made me love you for a time, but that time has faded a long time ago. Now, all I want is my pay.” Marcus noticed the tears falling down her cheeks and the small swallowing of her throat as she desperately tried to hide the hurt on her face.

“That is not fair, Marcus, I meant everything I said and did when I was with you. I have lived in regret for the last six years. I have dreamt of you leaving almost every night since. And I have also dreamt of your return. I did what I had to do to survive. It was either I bond myself to an enemy or to lose my soul. He gave me no choice. I didn’t mean for Max to die. And I never meant to love you either.” Corvina whispered through the tears on her face.

Marcus felt the old burn flare to life at the mention of his brother Maximus’ name. He also knew what she meant by ‘he’. He was the creator of all hell. He was The Devil himself. Satan had ordered her to bond with a twin vampire so he could take one of their souls. If she didn’t do it he would take hers instead. She had opted to bond with a vampire.

To bond with someone for a witch was almost like marriage, but more because their souls would always be connected to each other. The only way to break a bond was by death. Marcus knew the trade, but that didn’t stop him from hating her. He ran after Max’s death. He had told the witch he would be back to kill her like she killed his brother, but it had taken him a while to believe that his brother was dead and Marcus had fallen for an enemy. Marcus knew he was in denial; he knew his brother was dead, but he didn’t want to believe it was his fault. And when he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t his fault, it was the witch’s fault for making him believe he loved her and for getting his brother killed. He set out for revenge.

“I don’t need your lies, Witch.” Marcus growled and his grip tightened around her slim waist.

“I am not being dishonest to you, Marcus. I do love you. I haven’t stopped loving you.”

Marcus glanced up at Jacob, who had been silent the entire time inside the house and nodded slightly. Jacob bowed his head as a way for him to say he got his master’s order.

“A witch and a vampire are not supposed to fall in love with each other, My Raven. What would the use of being enemies if we fell in love with them?” Marcus breathed softly in her ear, letting his mouth linger longer than it should. He grabbed her arm to jerk her out of the house.

“Marcus! What are you doing?!” Corvina’s eyes widened when she saw that he is taking her to her barn. Marcus ignored her cry as he pulled her through the barn doors. A dim light from a lantern is all that had the barn illuminated. Jacob was standing next to a support post that helped hold the loft up. Next to the post are a couple of stalls were animals are being held in. A particular cow mooed as Corvina approached.

“Shush O’Leary everything is going to be ok.” Corvina murmured to the cow as Marcus yanked her to the post. Marcus rolled his eyes; of course she would be trying to comfort an animal when she recognized her own death was coming.

“Jacob, gather a couple bales of hay while I tie the witch up.” Marcus pushed Corvina against the post and removed the rope from Jacob’s hands. Jacob moved away after bowing his head to Marcus. Corvina struggled against Marcus’ grasp on her arms as he drew them behind her back and around the pole. Her intake of breath let Marcus know that it hurt her.

“You don’t have to do this Marcus.” Corvina said calmly.

“You are right. I don’t have to. I want to.”

Corvina’s bottom lip began to quiver. “You can’t do this.”

“Well, My Raven, I can. I already am doing it.” Marcus told her when Jacob threw hay next to where she was standing with her hands behind her. He bent to tie the rope around her ankles.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!!!! You can’t call me that anymore!” She began to sob.

“You can’t do this…” She repeated. Jacob dropped the last two bales of hay then stood back to move by the door.

“I already told you I am doing this.” Marcus repeated more to himself than to her. He had to do this, he knew he had to. If he didn’t she would continue to haunt him. It was time to get this over with. Marcus walked over to the lantern. He glanced back to see Corvina straining against the ropes crying as she started to panic. Marcus picked up the lantern, walked back to her, and stared at her. She stopped her movements against the ropes and stared back at him.

“Please…you will regret this, Marcus. Please.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head to her chest with silent sobs. Marcus sighed. It had to be done, he told himself once again. It was now or never. Marcus raised his hand to throw it onto the dry hay, but paused. He moved two steps closer to Corvina, which was all he needed in order to be almost touching her. Corvina didn’t raise her head or stop her sobbing. Marcus tilted her chin up with the hand that was not holding her to death. Corvina tried to pull away, but Marcus held her chin with his hand. Marcus lowered his head to brush his lips against hers.

“I’m sorry, My Raven. It must be done.” Maximus would want it. He would do it for me if I was the one to have died, Marcus reasoned with himself. He dipped his head back down to her lips this time pressing his lips to hers. Corvina resisted at first but yielded to the kiss. Her lips were just as he remembered them. So soft, so pliable, and so his. She was meant for him. Those lips were made for him. Marcus pulled away and released the lantern. Corvina blinked at him then let her head fall back down accepting that he would never change his mind.

Marcus hesitated and felt the heat of the flames. Corvina must be feeling the burn already if it was starting to pain him to be standing so very close to the flames. The flames had already caught the hay bales and were beginning to catch on her skirts. She never even made a peep as the faded gown blackened. Making up his mind in a final moment, Marcus wrapped his arms around her while stepping the last step there was to be pressed against her. Corvina looked up with eyes wide.

“What are y-“She started to say with accusation in her voice. Marcus put a stop to her voice by lowering his head to capture her mouth in a demanding kiss. Corvina tried to turn her head away from the kiss, so Marcus captured her head in his hands. She struggled to reject his kiss ended when he nipped her bottom lip. A smile tugged at her lips. The flames of the fire he started, caught a hold of his clothing as well, but in the arms of woman he loved, he didn’t feel the scorching burn
.
Flames spread out across the floor and tried to reach the loft. They stretched high to finally catch the edge of the loft, which slowly smoked with a starting fire. Bright yellow flames licked up the post that held the witch. They were hungry for flesh. Marcus never stopped the kiss as the first real pain seared his skin. He knew his Raven was feeling the burn, because the taste of tears mingled with their dancing mouths. He felt the shudders rock through her body while the flames around them leaped to an unknown ancient ritual. The loft above their heads fell around them, but did not touch them. Terrified animals sounds did not make them flinch. Marcus’ skin blistered but he did not stop his kiss.

This was his last moments on earth. He wanted to spend them in the arms of a witch, in the arms of the woman he loved. Corvina broke the kiss with violent coughing. Marcus kissed the top of her head, rewrapping his arms around her waist. The smoke around them didn’t bug him. He wouldn’t need the fresh oxygen. Corvina’s shuddering became viciously violent when her skin split and blackened. Marcus’ arms tightened around her. He wanted to protect her from the pain he knew he had caused her.

It’s had to be done he told himself as he felt his skin pucker and burst. It must be done he thought again, as he can felt her skin peel away. It was the only way for my soul and my brother’s soul to rest. She must die, but I could die alongside her. Marcus closed his eyes and rested his head on her forehead. His lips brushed over her charred cheeks down to her chapped lips. The taste of blood lingered on his lips.

“Just one last kiss, My Raven.” Marcus whispered softly feather light against her lips.

“I love you, Marcus.” Corvina said barely coming out of her mouth through her coughing in the black smoke.
Marcus pulled back to look down at her one more time. He quickly glanced away wishing he never saw her, because now the imprint of what she looked like would be with him until he died. He couldn’t believe he was doing this to her. He swallowed and fastened his eyes. Her image was on his eyelids. The once vibrant honey blonde hair was now a black mass of brittle strands that were falling away in clumps with her every move. Her once creamy white skin was now puckered red, blistered, blackened with smoke, cracked with blood falling and skin peeled away. The tears falling from her eyes to mingled with the blood down her face.
Marcus lowered his head back to her lips. “I love you too, My Raven.”

Marcus seized her lips that cracked enough to bleed as he kissed her tenderly. His own tears fell down his face as he felt death closing in. Marcus heard Corvina’s heart descend slowly. He realized her death was coming soon. Her heart slowed steadily until it stopped. Marcus’ tears fell harder than they ever had before. They fell harder even after Maximus’ death. He threw back his head and screamed an animalistic sound making the rest of the already falling barn collapse onto him.

The fire burned all over the city destroying almost everything in its path. The flames were hungry to burn, to kill everything. They wanted to destroy for the man who created them. Their master was dead, but they were not done unleashing his revenge. All of the pent up anger and hate that had consumed Marcus for six years, over flowed into the flames making them want to devour everything in their path. Screams pierced the air for the people had nowhere to go. The glow from the burning buildings looked beautiful on the water of Lake Michigan. Flames overrode flames to get the first taste of wood or better flesh. The fire killed 300 hundred people that night and ruined half a city. Never stopping, no matter how hard men tried to stop the destruction, until Tuesday morning and the flames only stopped their devastation when Marcus’ anger stopped. And Marcus’ anger stopped when his Raven’s spirit found his and they met with love in their hearts, only then did Marcus let go of his revenge, so only then did the flames die at last.


EDITING IN PROGRESS