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“Goddess Hecate, Goddess Selene, I call on you with a sacrifice, a token of appreciation.” Her head lifted to the full moon. “I call upon you as your first servant. Hear my call.”
She put an arm under Virginia’s shoulders and cradled her. Heather lifted the bowl to Virginia’s mouth, letting it fall down the woman’s throat and spill down her face. Victoria’s arms fell to the side, and Beatrice smiled when she saw the butterfly tattoo on her wrist. Beatrice carried her down to the fire and placed her body on the ground.
“I call on you, Goddess of the moon. I call on you, Goddess of magic. Embrace your new warrior. Guide her in this battle that you have laid before her. She is not of your world but is part of a new world that creates warriors from the hurt. Love her. Claim her as your own.”
Beatrice walked around the fire, repeating this prayer. The fire parted into two. A wind gust pushed the two sides apart. In the center, a twirling windstorm grew taller. Tendrils of fire surrounded Beatrice and Heather.
A duet of women shouting and talking replaced Beatrice’s voice. The hymn grew louder and faster until the words merged into a jumbled mess of benediction and supplication.
A white curtain fell around them, hiding them from the world.
Beatrice uttered a low, animalistic groan, and the voices stopped. The only sound left behind was the growing wind in the center of the fire.
“Come to me, Mothers.”
The wind stopped. The white veil and the land around her disappeared.
“Why are you here?” a voice demanded.
“I come here to bring you a worthy soul for your army.”
“It has been more than a lifetime since you called,” the voice said. “Why should we give you anything when you turned your back on us?”
Beatrice’s heartbeat increased. When Isabeau betrayed her, the need for vengeance pushed her beyond protecting humans from supernaturals to hunting and killing all shifters. If they were eliminated, she would be able to harness and control their living power.
“Why are you here?” the voice screamed.
“You gave me the power to bring life back to the dead.”
“We did. How did this daughter die?”
“A man attacked her and left her for dead, much like my sister when you raised her.”
“Ah, Isabeau, your sister.”
A light flashed, and a pop rang through the air. Two women appeared in front of Beatrice. One woman appeared to be three in one body. The main body faced her, while the other two faced north and south. A black dog stood close to her side. The other woman wore white with a long billowy dress and a cap that covered the woman’s hair, which reached the ground. She carried a torch in her right hand.
Beatrice blinked, and the women disappeared.
“Your sister understood.”
Beatrice spun around, searching for the voice, but saw nothing.
“Your sister understood.”
She spun again but was only fast enough to see a blur when the women appeared and disappeared.
“Isabeau was selfish. She never understood. I have always been your faithful servant.” She pointed to the body. “You will see, as I have, that this body is worthy.”
The women continued to appear and disappear, taunting Beatrice.
“Enough,” Beatrice cried out.
The woman with the three bodies flashed in front of Beatrice and Heather. She reached down and patted the dog’s head. “You have always been a selfish child.”
Beatrice clenched her hands. “I did not ask to bring Isabeau back from Hades.”
A voice behind Beatrice said, “No, that was a gift I gave you.”
