Master Campania: Dark Vampire

Romance (Masters of the Consulate

Book 7) Sylvia Black
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Master Campania
Masters of the Consulate
Book 7
Sylvia Black
Book World Ink
 Contents

1. Campania
2. Willow
3. Campania
4. Willow
5. Campania
6. Willow
7. Campania
8. Willow
9. Campania
10. Willow
11. Campania
12. Willow
13. Campania
14. Willow
15. Campania
16. Willow
17. Campania
18. Willow
19. Campania
20. Willow
21. Campania
22. Willow
23. Campania
24. Willow
25. Campania

Thank you!
About Sylvia Black
Acknowledgments
Do You Want More?
 Copyright © 2023 Master Campania by Sylvia Black

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing,
photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from the author. Sylvia Black retains moral rights as author of this
work.

This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters,
places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language
and may be considered offensive to some readers.

Cover by Cassandra Fear, C&N Design

Editing by Silla Webb | Masque of the Red Pen

Published by Book World Ink

Chapter 1
 Campania

MY JAW LOCKS TIGHT WITH IRRITATION AS THE MILES GO BY OVER THE HIGHWAYS OF ITALY.
Overmaster Descallia has felt the impending danger of our enemies for quite some time. Now, it’s
finally clear to all the vampire masters who we must defeat before we can ever hope to get a trail of
the rogues. First, we must find the pesky witches and make them tell us what they know about the
rogues they’re working for and divulge the names of the other traitors wreaking havoc in our world.
Then, and only then, will we be able to end the rogue vampires for good.
So many traitors among us it’s hard to fathom. Dragos, Corcius, and other warriors we have
trusted for centuries. No one would have ever suspected Vince who devoted his entire life working
for the police just to provide us inside information, or Isala, Overmaster’s trusted consigliere, a
woman who swore allegiance to him and stood by his side as he picked himself up from the ashes and
built the very empire all the vampires enjoy today, yet every single one of them and more turned
against us.
Any number of people could have joined the rogues: a fellow vampire master, a lord, a warrior;
our fearless leader did not say who else dared to betray us. There is no doubt, though, that someone
we trust is feeding information to the witches for the rogues. I have every intention of finding out
exactly who it is and make them pay. They picked the wrong location to hide out when they selected
the nightclubs of my region. They won’t be able to blend into the nightlife for long because my hunt
for the evil little creatures begins tonight.
I know the Southern Italy region like the back of my hand. The nightlife activity is a good place to
disappear and blend. Our enemies aren’t as smart as they think they are, though. The sneaky witches
are about to learn just what a big mistake it was coming to one of the cities under my watch to hide.
No place in the region of Campania is a safe haven for them when all of the community members are
loyal to me, a trusted vampire master known for taking care of his flock.
The wheels of the black Maserati Ghibli hug the corners of the winding roads, snaking around the
province of Campania as my driver rounds the bends high above the sea. The lights of houses set into
the hill, and those shimmering from boats across the water shine against an otherwise pitch-black
night as we set out on our search for the pesky witches.
We may have dealt with the rogue vampires time and time again, but there are more out there now.
The rogues, or the orchestrators as they used to refer to themselves centuries ago, are stirring and
growing in numbers. Overmaster Descallia and Lucianna have exceptional powers and have felt them
for some time, but now, it’s not just the two of them who feel the presence of our enemies.
Even the twelve masters of the vampire consulate feel it, including me. Even the lords who work
beneath us in the regions sense the tides of trouble swirling in the wind. Every time the orchestrators
rear their ugly heads, we face a never-ending battle to control the destiny of the vampires and
preserve the life that we’ve worked so hard to build for the vampires today.
Not once have we come close to losing that centuries old war. While the purebloods under
Overmaster Descallia’s direction have chosen the path of blending, learning, and adapting to new
ways of doing things, the rogues are still stuck in the ways of years ago. We’ve always managed to
send the rogue vampires who want to revert us back to the blood-sucking creatures we were of years
past, back to the dark ages where they belong, but every time they regroup, arm themselves, and come
at us with a different method of attack. Even still, we’ve always prevailed.
But that could all change now.
The witches have always remained neutral in the war between the rogue vampires and the
purebloods of today. The pesky witches are always making trouble, especially about our land in
Romania. However, in the greatest battles between the rogues and us, they’ve never taken a side,
always taking to their havens until trouble has passed.
Until now…
I plan to find out exactly why this group of witches has aligned with an enemy from the dark ages,
even going against their own coven leaders. Why they would want us to revert back to a time when
vampires roamed the streets, snatching humans for snacks is beyond me. Even the witches are safer
these days as a result of our power. No longer sought out by the same enemies they seek to protect.
My jaw locks with irritation. It makes no sense whatsoever for the witches to side with the
rogues. Witches have been oppressed, openly burnt alive for having the gift of magic and to heal. If
anything, they should be taking the side of the Vampire Masters who have the power to go up against
the rogues and even the humans if needed.
Whatever the reason, the witches we’re after now should never have gotten involved with the
rogues, or left the safety of Devora’s coven. That’s a line even they can’t cross and come out
unscathed, and I and the other vampire masters will see to it that they pay for their outright betrayal.
Just because they’ve blended in with the humans and other underworld dwellers who like the
lights and action of the city, doesn’t mean that I won’t find them. My region may be vast, but my driver
knows exactly where to go for some of the best nightlife in Italy. We continue searching city after city
in my region. When we find them, we will get the answers we want and make them pay if it takes all
night or all day.
We reach the outskirts of Salerno, weaving the luxury sedan through the main roads and back alley
areas the tourists never stray into. Although almost midnight, the pulsing music from the club not too
far up the street drifts over the quietness of the city. My keen ears hear the distinct little cackle of a
pesky witch as the sound floats onto the wind along with the rhythmic beat. I gesture to the side of the
road. “Pull over here and let me out.”
I step from the black sedan and tug on the ends of my dress shirt, adjusting my cuff links and suit
jacket before walking the short cobblestoned distance to the club just a half a block away.
The big burly guy at the entrance gives me a nod of recognition. “Evening, Master Campania. Go
right in.” He unhooks the red rope and lets me through the red wood double door. Earlier in the night,
he probably had to keep the crowd of club goers at bay as they waited until opening time.
A strand of multi-colored light flashes across the room, blinking in time with the rhythm of the
song. I make my way through the throng of small tables filled with people talking and drinking their
favorite concoctions while watching a multitude of people on the dance floor who are moving to a
popular beat.
My eyes scan the room, taking in the humans, vampires, and other under dwellers of the night.
Everyone mingling under the same roof, as it should be. Divisions that still exist in other regions,
even today, do not exist here. The humans and vampires may not see eye to eye on everything, but they
respect each other, and the power the other faction holds. At least in most of the clubs.
I recognize the dark suited syndicate man in the corner and give him a chin nod as I pass by his
table. Even the syndicate fucks mingle with us all in Campania. They watch the pretty dancing girls
strategically located throughout the club just like all the rest of the red-blooded beasts.
The syndicate know exactly how the division of power is distributed in south Italy. They know
they need the vampires as much as we need the humans. We may not agree on the division of
territories, division of product or profits, and other minor things, but all in all we accept the other as
a necessary and essential part of doing business in the world today.
But the witches, are a totally different thing all together. I have no doubt that one of Nick Molena’s
men from the syndicate has no idea he’s hanging out in a club entrenched with the witches the humans
and vampires hate.
A tinkling sound, although soft, captures my attention amid all the other noise in the club. My eyes
home in on the shoulder-length dark-haired woman with big green eyes sitting in the center of a
horseshoe shaped leather seating arrangement with a tall drink on the table in front of her and others
lined up in front of her friends. She laughs again at something her friend says.
Found you…
Every single one of the ladies drinking and laughing at the table in the back are probably trying to
blend into the surroundings as though they are human and not of wiccan descent. Probably born with
no other intent than to cause the vampires aggravation and grief, any chance they can.
My eyes track the sway of her perfect heart shaped ass adorned in a short cobalt blue skirt that
leaves a long expanse of creamy thighs and slender calves displayed as she makes her way to the
center of the room with her friends. Her silver shorty boots click against the wood of the dance floor
as she and her friends begin dancing to the ultra-contemporary beat. She spins and raises her hands in
the air, her eyes closed, soaking in the moment, allowing me an unfettered view of her perfectly sized
breasts which bounce sweetly with each movement she makes under the thin material of her clingy
white leotard top.
It’s hard to believe that such an evil little creature can come in such a beautifully wrapped
package, but the witches have always had the uncanny ability to lure and ensnare even the most
careful of males with their female wiles. She absorbs the music and moves seductively with the beat,
causing my dick to shift against the inside seam of my pants. Seductress, enchantress, beguiling little
witch.
The group of four females eventually tire. They make their way back to the horseshoe seating
arrangement in the back corner where an overzealous waiter meets them to take their refreshment
order. The minute he leaves the table, she turns to her friends, and they begin laughing. They won’t
find the rest of their evening as enjoyable as it’s been up to this point.
I stalk forward, intent on catching the pesky witch by surprise, but her eyes suddenly shift,
opening wide as she realizes exactly who I am.
Chapter 2
 Willow

I TAKE A SIP OF WINE AFTER A LONG SWIM IN THE POOL AND OUTDOOR SHOWER, FASCINATED AS THE
bright orb of the sun begins to descend over the Gulf of Naples. This far south the colorful mass falls
fast into the darkening arm of the Tyrrhenian Sea that surrounds the Campania region in the southwest
portion of Italy. Sipping a wine from one of the local vineyards and watching it from our balcony high
above the vastness of the turquoise blue never grows old.
Darkness will approach quickly, and the breeze from the sea will cool the city which has become
heat sutured by the beating sun of the day. I set my glass on the small wrought iron table and pat
myself dry with the cashmere towel, watching the sun from my balcony, before tucking it around my
waist and heading inside through the French doors to get ready for the night.
The porcelain tile feels cool against the bottoms of my feet as I make my way across the dark
green flooring of the shared living space with leather couches and recliners in the large open concept
space. The adjacent kitchen is pristine with all the amenities four woman who are crazy enough to
live together could have hoped to find. I pad past my friend’s rooms and down the hall to my bedroom
at the very end of the house.
The lights of the boats on the sea are visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. They’re just
beginning to twinkle, making me thankful that I spent the extra rent for the larger bedroom of the house
and that I declined the afternoon shopping spree with friends in exchange for an afternoon of solitude
soaking up the beauty of the Italian Coast.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall spurs me into action because after a day of voracious
shopping my friends are bound to be hungry. It’s not likely they will wait for the likes of me if I’m late
for the early dinner planned in town.
I know the rules of the academy. No using your witchy powers outside the academy walls unless
it’s an emergency. A small smile breaks over my face because the last few months have been all about
breaking the rules. A twist of my hand dresses me in lacy dainties while another twist causes the fitted
blue skirt and white fitted bodice to float through the air. I step into the five-inch silver heels and lace
the ankle straps with another twist of my wrist.
I glance in the mirror and grin, satisfied with the results and with our decision to part ways with
the coven in search for a freedom that until recently was never ours to enjoy. Life is short, and living
under the thumb of the head witches of the academy was never going to change. Get up each day, go to
class, learn about the evil vampires, how to make more potions and drum up hexes and all the other
mundane stuff that a witch must do. All in the name of protecting ourselves from monsters who would
like nothing but to watch us burn at the stake.
I pull out the blow dryer and smooth the jet-black hair into a sheen, letting it curl slightly as it
rests on my shoulders before putting the silver hoops with the hex sign in the middle on for the
evening. Pure silver, a gift from my mother long, long ago. My cell buzzes on the counter. I read the
message and smile. My zealous friends have no patience for waiting, not when it comes to a planned
night of fun in the city. My heels click across the tile floor as I gather a few belongings and toss them
into my purse, before one last twist of my hand takes me downtown city center.
A woman walking at a good pace almost jumps out of her skin as she looks up in surprise. “I’m so
sorry,” she says, momentarily confused.
I laugh. “No apologies necessary. You never know when someone is just going to appear out of
thin air around these parts.” She adjusts her purse, gives me another puzzled look, but then keeps
moving. I really should refrain from such childish parlor tricks, but once in a while it’s nice to slip
into witch mode, especially on a night out with your friends.
The greeter lets me through the red ropes the minute I flash my VIP card, one of the many
amenities of renting our house from owners of the club. My friends are already at the bar as I walk in,
settled into the very back table that allows us to see all the comings and goings of the club with easy
access to the dance floor.
They raise their half empty glasses to me as I get to the table, and Belinda slides out and lets me
into the horseshoe shaped booth. “Slide into the middle.” She grins at me as I slide into the booth.
“Easier for the handsome men to come by and pick me up for a dance.”
I roll my eyes at our vivacious friend, who’s always got one man or another on her mind, until one
shows any kind of interest. Then she tucks tail and runs for the hills. No doubt from all the mindless
drivel the head witches at the academy have been drumming into our heads for years upon years.
Imagine my surprise when I signed up for college and learned the other sex weren’t after our spells
and magic at all but something much more fun and sinful.
I put down my purse and get comfortable in between my friends, and an attentive server stops by
to find out my drink of choice. A tall, dark man in a suit saunters into the club, prowling with the
grace of a panther on the track of his prey. I drag my eyes away before he locks those dark souled
eyes on me because I know exactly who and what he is. Master Campania. A pureblooded vampire,
one of the most powerful vampire masters of all. I don’t even chance a glance up because nothing
good ever comes of running into one of them, especially with no safety of the coven and head witches
to protect us.
The over six foot in height dark vampire blends into the crowd, and my attention reverts back to
my friends who are talking a mile a minute about their day. They’ve barely had time to fill me in on
all their day’s excitement while out shopping for bargains before a popular song comes over the
loudspeakers of the club. Belinda grabs my hand and pulls me off of the sofa. Our other two friends
follow us to the dance floor, and we all meld with another group of women clearly out for a good
time too.
The feel of eyes watching me from across the room causes my skin to heat. I inhale deeply,
keeping my focus on the music and friends in front of me. I already know intuitively that it’s the dark
vampire master causing my blood to race. It takes effort not to let my eyes be drawn to the tall dark-
haired male sitting in the shadows of the corner who should know better than to toy with a witch. He
may blend into the club just like all the other humans, but I would know one of our lifelong enemies
from anywhere after all the pictures the head witches loved to share. Master Campania, the
pureblooded vampire who rules the entire southern region of Italy, and any vampire who originated in
this area no matter where they roam or settle afterward reports directly up to him. A powerful beast
who could have any female he wants, but yet his eyes haven’t left me for more than a few seconds
since walking into the club.
The heat of his eyes stops warming my skin for a moment. I venture a peek, but quickly avert my
gaze before his attention turns back to me. I don’t have to look up to know when his eyes rake over
me, because I can feel the intensity of their heat on my exposed skin. It sends tingles of desire down
the length of my spine and straight to my core.
I may not want to admit it, but every traitorous bone in my body is putting on a show just for him.
Every step of the dance feels as though it’s in slow motion and under intense scrutiny from the
powerful and well-dressed beast. His eyes don’t leave me for a second; instead, heating my body and
spurring my energy, and my nipples pebble against the thin material of the bodice that hugs my skin so
closely. I close my eyes, slowly turning away from his six-foot-four frame as the song comes to an
end, and my friends and I head back to our table.
The young man who stops at our table is attentive and quick to fill our drinks. I’ve barely taken a
small sip when the heat of the master vampire’s eyes draws me toward him again. This time, the
magnetic intensity is undeniable and too strong for even me to resist. His mind is racing with thoughts,
though, and if they were pure thoughts, perhaps I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
Instead, all my psychic powers can focus on is the thoughts racing through his head. The evil little
seductress will pay for toying with me but not until the vampires get what we want from her.
My head snaps up, and my eyes meet his. He stalks forward as though he owns the club and isn’t
just a paying patron like the rest of us, or someone I can send back to the dark nether regions he rose
from in a blink of an eye and a wave of my wand.
I take a deep breath and summon every bit of force that comes with my power, readying myself to
do battle with the formidable beast.
Chapter 3
 Campania

THE WITCH’ S BRIGHT GREEN AND PURPLE EYES BEGIN TO SWIRL AS SHE RAISES HER RIGHT HAND . I
don’t need more than those two clues to realize she’s recognized me or that I have very little time to
intercept before she unleashes whatever hex is in store for me.
I raise my hand and stop walking, hoping to buy myself time. I could sear the witch with the heat
of my eyes right where she stands, but that won’t get me closer to what I need. Instead, I try
connecting since most witches are telepathic on some level or another. I don’t mean you any harm,
but I do need information.
Liar, she mouths back, taking me by surprise at how clearly she and I connect. A psychic witch,
one with exceptional telekinetic powers that perhaps may match my own.
I shrug. “The vampires intend to get the information we need. That is all. A truce, for the
moment?”
Her eyes narrow, but the beating of her heart stays steady as she contemplates my suggestion.
Hopefully, a sign that I’m not about to be turned into a toad or any other parlor shop tricks these
cackling hags love to play on vampires and other dwellers of the underworld.
The evil but sexy little witch averts her attention and turns to her friends. I stand impatiently
waiting in the middle of the club as people walk around me, with no idea that a vampire master has
been stopped dead in his tracks by a persnickety little witch.
One that will pay for her audacity the minute that I have what I want, but for now, I’ll let her think
she has the upper hand, until the very minute that I don’t.
The foursome breaks up, three of them leaving the enchantress on her own as they walk to the bar
and perch onto the empty barstools for a front row view of our conversation, still cackling softly to
themselves. They’ll see who’s laughing when they’re hanging from the cross above a fiery pit of
flames for helping the rogues try to get the upper hand of the vampires.
I gesture to the curved red leather booth as I approach the witch who dares to allow herself to be
drawn out by a vampire. An unusual move sends her friends away, one that I can’t help to find
exceptionally intriguing given our obvious physical attraction. “Do you mind if I sit? I promise not to
bite.”
Her pretty lips purse, not at all amused with my attempt to bring levity to an otherwise tense
situation or to simply deescalate whatever fear she has of me, at least for now.
I set both of my hands on the table. “I need information, that’s all.” I already know she and her
friends aren’t the ones I’m after, but they can sure as hell lead me to the ones who are.
She grasps her glass and brings it to her lips. Her long, creamy fingers with pointed green
fingernails are adorned with multiple silver rings. I watch mesmerized as her bow shaped lips caress
the glass and her throat constricts, leaving it a little emptier than it was before and a red lip shaped
design on the glass when she’s done.
Evil little enchantress…
She smiles. “The name is Willow. Enchantress is usually saved for someone with far greater
powers than me.”
I smirk… Damn, she’s hot, and she can clearly read my mind.
The waiter stops by and takes my order of a scotch, although I’d prefer the calming blend of a
Descallia Red. A mixture of wine and pureblood created locally from the vineyards thriving in the
region. I turn to her after he’s left to get my drink. “So, let’s forget the games. You can read minds,
turn me into a frog or some other such nonsense, causing me to have to go to our healer to get it
sorted. I can scorch you, burn you to ashes where you sit without any warning. Let’s forget all of that.
I have a proposition for you, Willow.”
Her eyebrow turns up in an arch as she draws on the long straw from her drink. She keeps me
waiting as she swallows, twirling the peach-colored tube between two fingers. “I don’t make deals
with vampires, Master Campania.”
The fact that she already knows who I am could work to my advantage. If she hasn’t figured it out
yet, she should be very afraid, because my patience with these games is growing thin. We have a job
to do and not very much time to get it done. “The witches we hunt helped Isala. Overmaster
Descallia’s previous consigliere turned even more witches against Devora’s coven and intends to
harm the head witches and high priestess…”
Willow raises a hand. “You want me to help you find my sister witches?”
“I don’t simply want you to—I expect it, if you and your cackling friends know what’s good for
you. Did you not hear a word I said? They have sided with the rogues and your head witches,
including Devora, are their targets. Surely you don’t want to help them with that?”
Her eyes begin that swirling thing, and she raises her hand.
My fangs descend, and a low growl barrels from the back of my throat. “Don’t do something you
or I will both regret. Paybacks are hell, Willow. I promise to make your payment doubly hard if I
waste needless time having some hex you place on me reversed. Do we understand each other, witch?
I am not the vampire you want to mess around with. I have no time or patience for it.”
Her eyes continue to swirl, but she relents with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. What do you want to
know? Maybe I’ll tell you and maybe I won’t, pureblood!”
“All you have to do is tell me where they are. We will do the rest.”
Willow averts her eyes, continuing to toy with her straw. I watch fascinated as her eyes stop
swirling and turn the brightest of blue-greens, just like the Tyrrhenian Sea far beyond. “It’s hard to
believe that Devora is sanctioning the vampires to find my sisters. How do I know what you say is
true? What proof do you have, vampire?”
I gesture to the bauble hanging around her pretty little neck. “Summon her and ask her yourself, but
make it quick. The longer it takes convincing you to help, the longer your group of rogue witches have
to harm the rest of the witches and vampires too.”
She strokes the purplish glass bauble hanging from her neck with two fingers, but she’s no more
going to summon Devora than I would. She has whatever magic it holds turned off for a reason, and
we both know what that is. She strokes it again and overplays her hand.
I go to stand up. “We’re done here. I’ll inform Devora that you and your friends were far from
cooperative and let her know exactly where to find you. Perhaps even the owner of this club and the
man who rents his house to you already knows you and your friends are witches, yes?”
 Her eyes flash with gold streaks. “Don’t you dare tell him one word of that, pureblood!”
I glance at my watch. “I have places to be, witch. Tell me what I want to know and quit toying
with me if you want to keep any of the semblance of the life you’ve built here in Campania intact.”
Fucker…
I shrug… “It’s Master Fucker to you.”
The pulse on the side of her neck is beating wildly, a sign that pushing her further is probably not
in my best interest, but still, that’s exactly what I do.
“You have moments before I take the deal off the table.”
“Some deal,” she mutters.
I arch my eyebrows.
She pushes her drink away from her as though that will make her concession easier. “Fine. I don’t
know exactly who you’re looking for, but I’ve heard the rogue witch rumors. I believe they’re
frequenting a place on the other side of town, a place called the Caposso.”
Now we’re getting somewhere; although, still, I watch her carefully for any vestige of deceit
before trusting what she’s said. “I know where that is. Do you know where they’re staying when not
in the clubs?”
Willow shakes her head and takes a small sip of her drink. “I’ve told you more than any self-
respecting witch should have said. That’s all you’ll get from me, vampire. Go bother someone else
now, and leave us alone.”
I toss some bills on the table and stand. “Thanks for your help.” I turn on the heel of my dress shoe
and make my way out of the club and toward my car as it approaches. The backdoor unlocks as it
reaches the curb in front of me, and I slide into the luxurious grey leather seats.
My eyes meet my drivers in the rearview mirror. He gives me a head nod. “Where to, boss?”
“Caposso.”
He arches one brow. “You know who owns that, boss?
I nod at his worried reflection in the mirror. “I know it well. At least we’ll have the element of
surprise on our side. It had to be the fucking syndicate hang out.” That right there should confirm what
I’ve suspected for a very long time. Overmaster Descallia may want to believe that only a few of the
syndicate elders were responsible for the issues the vampires have faced recently. I, on the other
hand, bet every single one of the no-good fuckers is in on the plot to run the vampires into the ground.
Try telling Descallia that when he and the new Don seem to be in sync.
This encounter could get messy, and even though I couldn’t ascertain any deceit in Willow’s
voice, she is a witch, a cunning and evil little enchantress. I send a text and pocket my cell. “I sent for
back up; they’ll meet us there. Let’s roll.”
Chapter 4
 Willow

THE MINUTE CAMPANIA WALKS OUT THE DOOR, MY FRIENDS FLOCK TO MY SIDE. GLENDA’ S EYES SWIRL
with excitement. “Spill! All the deets! Don’t you dare leave a thing out.” She slides in beside me as
the others join us, piling in around the table.
“Master Campania isn’t after us; he’s after the rogues.” They all let out dramatic sighs of relief,
but my guess is that this night is far from over. I hate to ruin their night with what I have to say, but
they need to know. “The vampire led me to believe that Devora sanctioned his seeking us out to get
information about the witches who defected from the coven with Isala.”
Glenda almost chokes on her drink. “Bullshit!” The others turn to me with wide eyes. “You can’t
be serious. From where we were sitting it looked like you were getting a little googly eyed for the
pureblood.”
I narrow my eyes at Glenda. “After three horrible relationships? You think I’d spend one minute
contemplating a fourth, especially with the likes of him? A pureblood who wants nothing more than to
torch our souls. No, not any man. I can survive on my own just fine, thanks. No relationships, no
headaches, and no broken hearts especially with the likes of a dark souled vampire who would like
nothing more than to send us to a fiery hell.”
She leans in and pats my hand. “I’m sorry; I was just kidding, but seriously, Devora allowed him
to come after us? I thought we had finally gotten ourselves free of that controlling witch.”
It is harder for Glenda than it is for any of us. I feel horrible that now she has this worry on top of
everything else she’s been through. “It’s true. Campania knew about the bauble and our ability to
communicate with it. He pretty much told me to call her and confirm it. How has she strayed so off
course that she would sell her own out for those bloodsucking beasts?”
Glenda tips her glass and lets the rest of the fruity concoction she’s been drinking run down the
back of her throat as if gaining courage to say what’s on her mind. “Well, it just confirms what we
already knew about Devora. Her interests aren’t all that pure. Better that we left the academy when
we could and that she hasn’t wanted to go head-to-head with the vampires and syndicate in this town
in order to drag us home. Not that they would protect us from her, but they’re not willingly going to let
her and a coven of witches come trapsing into town with the bad blood between the two of our
groups.”
Letty, usually the quiet one, pipes in. “It was a damn smart move hiding in enemy territory where
no one knows who we are.” She looks around the club and then leans in. “Maybe we should just get
out of here and go home. At least we’re all safe there.”
I shift in my seat uneasily. “About that…” I silently curse the vampire for ruining our short-lived
freedom. Now it means starting all over, just after we’ve been settled. At least none of us have found
jobs yet. Damn that vampire!
All three pairs of eyes stare at me as I try to find the words. “Master Campania knows. Who we
are, where we’re staying, who we’re renting from and worst of all—that the owner hates witches.
The vampire held everything over my head to get information about the witches who joined Isala. He
didn’t give me a choice but to tell him something to get him off my back and out of the club.”
Glenda’s eyes swirl. “Son of a b!”
I sigh, resigned in the fact that we need to move yet again. “Yeah. It’s not safe here anymore. I
don’t trust that vampire as far as I can throw him. He comes in sanctioned to find us by Devora?
Something smells to high heaven, worse than the bloodsucking beast himself.”
Belinda takes a long swallow of her drink. “How does Devora even know we’re here? We were
so careful to cut off all the pathways, our baubles, and not tell a soul outside of us.”
It’s not like I haven’t been racking my brain, trying to figure out the same thing. I shake my head, at
a loss for the answers. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe Devora has known where we were the entire
summer and just hasn’t tried to force us back for other reasons? Who really knows what’s up the
crafty and controlling witch’s sleeves.”
All three sets of eyes are spinning with a gazillion unasked questions as they watch me. I don’t
have any explanation for them yet. “I don’t know, okay? If Master Campania knows where we are and
is on speaking terms with Devora, we need to move. Like pay next month’s rent, pack up, and leave
by tomorrow night. We can’t get caught up in a vampire war. Agreed?”
My friends don’t answer. I think they’re in shock, half buzzed, and still trying to make sense of it
all. Same as me. I tap my fingernails on the table to get their attention. “Are you not listening to me?
The minute that pureblood finds out that I’ve sent him on a wild goose chase, he’s coming after me,
and he knows exactly where we live. I could throttle Devora for giving that beast permission to come
after us! How could she turn on her own like this?”
Belinda’s creamy complexion turns splotchy red. Most people think she’s the quiet one, but her
close friends know the truth. “I hate that witch! All we ever heard from Devora was evil vampires
this and evil vampires that for years at the academy, and now she’s in bed with the master of the
Campania region. What the fuck is her end game? There has to be a way she’s benefiting from all of
this. Don’t tell me she’s suddenly done a one-eighty with the vamps.”
The waiter stops by to see if we need a top off, but not one of us takes him up on his offer. Each of
us reach for some bills and toss them on the table. Belinda scoops them up and hands the young man
whose had his eye on her all night the money. “Thanks, but we’re going to call it a night.”
He moves on to help another patron, and a tall shadow across the club catches my attention. I
watch as the well-suited man saunters to the syndicate table as if he owns the place. The man folds
himself into an empty seat at their almost full table, lowers his head, and begins to talk to his men.
That’s our cue to get the hell out of here because all we need is to draw his attention, especially after
the stunt I’ve just pulled with the vampire.
I slide my empty glass to the middle of the table and grab my purse. “Nick Mancino just walked
through that door. We need to get out of this region fast. I saw those syndicate goons watching me and
the pureblood talk while he was at our table. Now their new don walks in a short time later. This
can’t be coincidence. “Bathroom, ladies.” My friends grab their purses before following me among
the throngs of tables, until we reach the door at the back of the lounge.
One lady exits as we enter the otherwise empty bathroom. I turn to my friends after I lock the
door. “We don’t have a lot of time. Maybe an hour at most before Campania learns that he’s been
tricked. Damn it all to hell. Why did I send them to the Caposso of all places. If rumors are true, Nick
Mancino is someone you do not want to get on the bad side of, and I’ve just sent the vampires to his
crew’s hangout. It was the first place that came to mind. Damn that vampire for throwing me off my
game! Now we’ll have the vamps and syndicate after our asses for sure.”
My friend’s eyes swirl with color, and I curse my stupidity for causing them angst. There’s no
time to dwell on it now, though. A rattle of the doorknob outside the bathroom spins us into action.
As much as Devora hates it, my tricks without the wand can come in pretty damn handy at times.
One wave of a well jeweled hand and all four of us are back in the sanctity of our house overlooking
the sea. At least what was a sanctuary before learning the vampire who rules this region knows
exactly where we are and how to get us kicked out. “Let’s grab our stuff and get out of here as quickly
as we can. The vampire was in no mood for games, but I wasn’t about to give our sisters up to a
vampire no matter the reason. The rumors floating around about those witches may not even be true.
For all we know it’s a story the vampires made up so they can get their hands on us and more of our
coven sisters.”
I grab this and that from the living room, tossing it in a bag before moving onto the bedroom as my
friends do the same. All while the eerie feeling of running out of time no matter how fast we move
sends a streak of fear racing down the length of my spine.
Chapter 5
 Campania

THE CITY STREETS ARE QUIET UNTIL WE GET CLOSE TO CAPOSSO . A CLUB RENOWNED FOR ITS HIGH- END
female dancers, and where many of the syndicate fucks, along with the shifters they’ve recruited away
from Sheba to do their dirty work hang out. I gesture to an empty parking spot on the side of the road a
little way ahead. “Park there. Let’s wait for Descallia and the rest of the crew.” Walking into the last
club was one thing, but entering this one without warning could send a buzz throughout the syndicate
world without intention and could start an all-out war.
A brief rap on the window pulls my attention from the front of the club where a crowd of people
are still lined up trying to get inside the popular nightclub. Descallia opens the door and slides into
the back seat and turns to me. “I’m glad you got a hold of me. I got word to the others and sent a
message to Nick. I would expect him to pay me the same courtesy if he and his crew were heading
into the Descallia.”
I give him a nod, respecting the gesture of giving a heads-up to the syndicate don. Although not
quite understanding this sudden truce with the men constantly encroaching in our territory,
undermining our profits, and plain annoying the fuck out of us every chance they get. He has to
negotiate everything differently now that Master Trentino and Nick’s baby sister are a thing. I turn to
face him. “Did you ask Master Trentino and Romano to come with us; they may be useful?”
He gives a grunt as he finishes pounding out a message. “Yes, and Trentino will bring Angel.” No
one wants to admit it, but Trentino turning Nick’s baby sister and taking her for a mate has had its
advantages for the vampires. The less time we spend fighting with the syndicate, the more time we
have to focus on what really matters—the rogue bastards who want to bury us under a pile of ashes so
deep that we’ll never return to stand in their way of taking over.
Overmaster Descallia’s not wrong in his collaboration with the don, but it’s a fine balance
working with them while trying to keep the fuckers from dipping their fingers into what doesn’t
belong to them. “Are you having Romano bring Raven too?”
He nods. “Yes, she’s proven herself loyal and committed.”
My jaw locks tight. Everything turns to shit when Devora is involved. Raven may have proven
herself loyal, but she’s still the niece of one of the evilest head witches around. No matter what
anyone else thinks, including our leader. I remain quiet, my thoughts kept to myself.
Overmaster doesn’t have to hear me speak to know what I’m thinking. His eyes blaze red and then
darken in color. “Devora has many faults, but she sees what the defection of her witches to the rogues
can do not only to the vampires, but her entire coven as well. Raven will come with Romano and can
help provide a buffer between us and the witches we’re looking for.”
I should keep a lid on it, but of course I don’t. “No disrespect, but it can’t be coincidence that the
very witches we’re trying to find end up hanging out in the syndicate club. Everyone knows this is
where they hang out to do business, even Devora and her witches. Why would they come here unless
they’re working for the fucking syndicate and being protected?”
His eyes redden again, and this time his fangs descend. “If the syndicate is protecting the witches
and Nick wasn’t up front with me when I spoke with him, then he and I will have a problem. Until
then, I’m going to assume it’s a coincidence or another reason that we don’t fully understand yet. He
may be a new leader, but he knows the value of product distribution and collaboration with the right
people. He’s not going to jeopardize that especially being new to the role. He’s not going to rock the
boat; more likely he’s going to try to keep the peace.”
My jaw locks tight. Overmaster Descallia clearly puts more trust into Nick and his syndicate
fucks than I do. He’s a shrewd overmaster, though, the only reason I don’t continue in this line of
questioning. His wisdom and ability to see far into the future has kept the vampires at the top of the
hierarchy in the underworld, even if sometimes it’s hard to understand his train of thought.
Descallia gestures out the window at the group approaching, then opens the door as the others
walk toward us. “Thanks for coming,” he says as Trentino, Angel, Romano, Raven, Embry, Lucas, and
Lucianna join us.
Overmaster Descallia’s eyebrows raise at his mate who looks somewhat sheepish. Lucianna’s
eyes begin to glow bright crystalline green. “I’m not staying home while everyone else helps. Silver,
Clay, and Terrence should be here shortly. Silver’s power of sight is becoming stronger every day,
and Clay and Terrence are always willing to help if things get out of hand.”
Embry laughs. “Translation: we’re not staying home while there is shifter and syndicate ass to
kick with a bonus of witch. Clay and Terrence get a wee bit cranky when they get left out of a good
fight. Besides, we can’t let Master Campania have all the fun with the bitches.”
Raven’s head snaps around, and her eyes swirl before pinning Embry with their ire.
Embry swallows hard, looking as guilty as she should, given the company. “Sorry, Raven. Slip of
the tongue. I know you’re not all like that, but it is hard to put aside the differences. The witches have
been after the vampires for decades, doing everything they can to discredit us. Now we learn they’re
working with the rogues who want to end us. It never seems to stop. I shouldn’t have said it, though. I
really am sorry. You’ve taught me a lot about all the good you do too.”
Raven’s eyes still haven’t stopped swirling, though. I watch her hand because the witches are
never too far away from their fucking wands. Always a surprise, out of nowhere and bam, they either
disappear or turn your life upside down with some fucking trick or another.
The witch surprises me, though, and her eyes begin to settle. That doesn’t stop her from saying her
piece. “The witches and vampires have come to an amiable agreement. As a senior head witch, my
own aunt Devora has given Overmaster Descallia and our team permission to find the witches who
are responsible for helping the rogues. It wasn’t sanctioned by us. The witches are not all against the
vampires, but it will take time and continued effort on all of our parts to mend the fences of centuries
of hate for the other.”
Lucianna nods and puts her arm around Raven. The pulse at the side of Raven’s neck begins to
calm, and the electricity flickering at her fingertips goes out. “Well said,” she tells Raven.
Embry nods in seeming agreement as a young vampire with spiky silver hair and piercings walks
around the corner with two others. Lucianna introduces the small crew. “Silver, Terrence, and Clay, I
think you know everyone except Master Campania.”
I extend a hand in greeting. “I hear you’ve proven valuable on many an occasion. I’m glad
Lucianna asked you to join us. I ran into a group of witches earlier in the evening. One of the witches
told us the ones we’re looking for who are helping the rogues frequent this club. Club Caposso is a
known hangout for the syndicate in these parts, so Overmaster Descallia thought it best to have a few
reinforcements as we go in and take a look around.”
Descallia nods. “I’ve contacted Nick, head of the family, and smoothed the way. He knows we’re
only after the witches. He did not have any knowledge of witches consorting with his men here at the
club or any other alliance. He’s given us the okay to go in and ask around, but tread softly, my friends.
He hasn’t been the don for very long, and allegiances to him have not had time to cement. Not all of
the syndicate want him in power, and the many who don’t are not vampire friendly. They would much
rather take over running things and keep the better profit margins for themselves.
Trey and Clarence nod. “We’ll trail behind and keep an eye on everything in case you need help,”
Trey says.
Descallia pockets his cell phone. “Very good.” He turns to Raven. “Perhaps you could find out
where the witches are and talk with them. Feel them out for us, see if there’s a way to bring them back
from the rogues? It would be far better than making them an enemy, no?”
Raven beams. “I’d be happy to, Overmaster.” She glances up at Romano with a smile as his arm
slides around her shoulder. Descallia certainly seems to trust Raven. It’s hard to believe next year
when her probation is up that he won’t vote for allowing Trentino to take the witch as a mate
regardless of the apparent division within the ranks on the matter.
The bald-headed greeter gives us the onceover but gestures us through the set of red double doors.
“Nick called and said to welcome you to the club,” he grunts.
The club is dimly lit, filled with smoke and small round tables, each with four chairs scattered
throughout. Embry pokes me with her finger. “Good thing for night vision.” I scan the entire club in
less than a few minutes, taking in each and every one of the patrons before turning to Raven. “Do you
recognize anyone? I’m not seeing anyone that trips any alarms.”
Raven shakes her head. “No.” she sighs. “I was afraid of this when Overmaster Descallia called
Romano. The witches would never hang out here.” She lowers her voice. “Seriously, here and the
Descallia clubs are the last places any witch would voluntarily go. I thought maybe somehow they
had coerced her and her friends into coming here.”
My jaw tightens with irritation. The lying little enchantress back at the club. “Clay, Terrence, and
Silver, come with me. We’re going to go round up some deceitful little witches,” I tell the group
before transporting into the night and leaving them to follow in my wake.
The lights are still on in the living room of the house the witches have rented. “Silver, when we
go in, do that thing of yours and make sure the witches can’t escape. I don’t want to give them time to
flee or pull some magic prank. We transport into the room, our eyes flaming red and fangs descended
if nothing for the effect of scaring the crafty, deceitful little creatures.
Shrill screams permeate the room so high pitched that it sends jolts of pain through my ears.
Silver is quick, though. He uses his powers to move socks from the witches half-packed bags that lay
strewn across the floor. They float through the air with impressive speed, landing into their mouths as
cable ties are snapped onto their wrists, effectively silencing the enraged witches, and ensuring they
can’t get to their wands. Rule number one: always disarm the witches from those trusty wands they
carry everywhere they go.
Willow’s eyes are swirling, afire with golden bolts of anger. I gesture to the door. “Take the
others to the warehouse.” I keep my eyes on the enraged enchantress to ensure she doesn’t get that
sock out of her mouth and cast a spell. Their little games may not be deadly, but they always take time
to get reversed by the healers, and that’s something we have little of right now.
 The deceitful witch may not like it, but she’s coming with me.
I walk toward her, and she backs up. The swirling fades as her eyes burn bright green, filling with
fear and causing me to pause mid stride. The female who not hours ago was dancing just for me,
taunting me with her seductive beauty, whether I wanted to admit the attraction or not, now barely
breaths as I invade her space.
Instead, she stands shivering as she looks up at me with terror. All of her bravado of the evening
gone in a minute as the reality of her situation sets in. No more is she the sassy enchantress, but now
the captured prey of one of the purebloods she’s been conditioned over centuries to hate.
Taking advantage of her fear to get a quick confession should be easy. She’s a witch, one of the
many cackling females who has given the vampires nothing but trouble since the beginning of time.
But yet the fear in her eyes causes an unfamiliar emotion, and I change my tactic altogether.
That doesn’t mean I’m soft; it just means I’ll get it in a much different way…
Chapter 6
 Willow

I WATCH AS THE VAMPIRES GATHER MY FRIENDS . THEY FROG MARCH THEM FROM OUR HOUSE OVER THE
sea and down the steps that will eventually lead them to the garage on the lower side of the hill.
We’re far too outnumbered now to fight; besides, I have what the master vampire wants.
Information, maybe it’s important enough to trade us out of our situation, and maybe it’s not. But
we’ll never know unless I try. Then I can get to my friends, and we can be out of this region before
Devora is the wiser, because running into her is the last thing any of us want or need.
The vampire master’s dark eyes rake over me as the others close the door behind them. “This
could have been easy, and you made it hard. So now the rules have changed. Instead of telling me
where the rogue witches are, you’re going to personally take me there.”
My mind swirls with every curse word in the dictionary, and he hears every single one.
“Manners, enchantress, or you’ll find yourself draped over my lap getting the spanking you so rightly
deserve.”
The rolled-up pair of ankle socks render using my mouth completely useless. I avert my eyes and
suck in a breath through my nose. That doesn’t stop the unwanted image of the muscular vampire
master taking me to task over his knee with my dress flipped up over my bright red cheeks to swirl
through my mind, causing my cheeks and center to heat.
The intensity of his eyes draws mine toward him, causing my heart to beat faster. His eyes
shimmer with red, and his fangs slowly descend. The way he looks at me sends a delicious warmth
throughout my entire body. I swallow hard and drag my eyes away from the vampire to hide my
arousal, because everyone knows that vampires and witches are forbidden.
Campania smirks at me as though he has the upper hand. Maybe he does at this particular moment,
but as soon as I have the opportunity the bastard will be sorry he ever put me in this position or that
he ever thought to challenge a witch.
His thick dark eyebrows raise, and he tries to hide a smirk, but I see the hint of his upturned lips
just the same.
I pull at the restraints of my wrists, just itching to get to my wand and turn him into a fucking toad.
“Do your best, vampire. You have me at an advantage now, but it won’t be for long.”
The vampire master stalks toward me. I shrink into the comforting coolness of the wall. He glares
down at me. “Enough with the mind games, enchantress. Where are the witches we’re looking for
hiding?”
“I’m not telling you a damn thing until you take this gag out of my mouth!”
His eyes flash a deeper red, but he smirks outright. “And have you turn me into a toad? I think not,
enchantress. Better that I take you with me to meet the other vampire masters perhaps?”
 “Summon Devora! If she sanctions this, and I hear it for myself, then, and only then, will I take
you to my sisters.”
He clearly doesn’t believe a word that I’ve said.
The vampire master stalks so close that any semblance of personal space is obliterated before
caging me to the wall with his powerful strength. The warmth of his breath sends forbidden shivers of
desire down the length of my spine as he whispers into the sensitive shell of my ear. “You don’t make
the rules any longer, understand? Now tell me what I want to know.”
My body stills as his lips sear a streak of heat from my ear down the length of my exposed neck,
settling on the pulse that beats right below the skin. I should push him away, do something; instead, my
mind swirls with the thought of what he could do with the fangs that gently graze the side of my throat,
filling me with fear and anticipation at the very same time.
Finally, common sense kicks in, but again, he’s too fast for me. “You had your chance,
enchantress; now you’re coming with me.”
My blood boils with rage. Devora will send the wrath of every witch in our coven down on you,
vampire!
He smirks, and I know he understands every single word that crosses my mind as if I’d spoken
them aloud. “I’ve already told you—Devora sanctioned it. If you want to summon her, do it with the
little bauble hanging around your neck. Don’t think for a minute I’m letting you out of those ties until
you’ve taken me to the witches; that is, if you want to see your friends again.”
My eyes widen with fear. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far. Besides, the witches made their own
bed defecting from the academy and joining Isala. Even the witches at the academy believe they’re
working with the rogues who plan to overthrow all the factions and take over the underworld. Why
am I risking my life and that of my friends to save witches who aren’t loyal to us?” Please don’t hurt
my friends. I’ll take you where the rogue witches are, but you have to promise me that you won’t
hurt my friends.
Campania’s eyes narrow. “We’re wasting time. Your friends would be in the comfort of their own
beds if you had told me the truth the first time.” He takes hold of the cable tie that secures my wrists
together and keeps me from slipping a hand into my pocket to get my wand. If I float it with my eyes,
he may cause me to lose my concentration, and then the wand would be lost. I swallow past my
anxiety and thoughts of a last-minute escape in exchange for waiting for a more opportune time to
attack the vampire who thinks he’s far superior to me.
The risk of him hurting my friends is too great right now. I’ll bide my time and do what he asks for
now; at least until he trusts me. Once I’m free, the pureblood isn’t going to know what—or who—hit
him from behind. He’ll see then who’s making the rules!
My stylish shortie boots with ankle straps click on the hard surface as we descend the steps to a
sports car sitting at the front of my garage. He leads me to the passenger side and assists me in. He
reaches over to fasten my seatbelt, and his entire body is so close that I can smell the musky scent of
his aftershave and the fresh minty scent of his toothpaste. The same ones I could smell when he held
me against that wall.
My nipples pebble under the thin bodice. His watchful eyes don’t miss a thing and glow red
around the rims as he notices my arousal. His hand brushes my waist as he buckles me into the front
passenger seat. His breath whispers against the sensitive shell of my ear, sending goose bumps down
the length of my arms. “There’s no escaping for you now.”
Campania settles into the driver’s seat and buckles himself, his driver nowhere to be seen. He
turns to me. “Where to, and no tricks. There’s no time to waste, understand?”
 I glare at him from behind the ball of a sock that effectively cuts off any chance of talking or
placing one of the worst curses I can conjure on his ass without giving my real plans away.
The powerful vampire keeps his eyes on the windy road ahead of us until he reaches the bottom of
the hill. I don’t know how he expects me to speak, but I’m sure he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
This pureblood has more telepathic skills than most of the witches I know. As if proving my point, he
suddenly pulls to the side of the road and gets his cell phone out of his pocket and connects with
someone on the other end. “Do you have the witches settled?”
Campania pauses for a moment while someone on the other end speaks, but it’s far too low for me
to make out what they’re saying. He turns to me but speaks into the phone. “I’m going to take the gag
out of Willow’s mouth.” I still can’t make out what the voices on the other end are saying, but now
they are wildly animated. He closes his eyes as if to ward off all of their rant.
I can’t help but gloat and give him a half smile. His friends are afraid of what the evil little witch
will do to him once he takes these socks out of my mouth. Good! Let them think about all the things I
could do to him and the rotten pureblood bastards who took my friends.
He taps his finger on the steering wheel. “Tell Raven what I want to do and have her meet me at
the Descallia parking lot. We need to find the other witches, and I’m done playing games.”
My eyes widen in shock. Damn it all to hell! Seriously, the vampire is going to use Devora’s own
niece, Raven, against me. Maybe he doesn’t know that she’s not the best with hexes and curses. Only
taught sorcery at the academy a short time before she succumbed to the charms of that vampire master
who lives on the other side of the school in Romania and works with him.
He glances at the dash. “Perfect. We’ll meet Raven there in about fifteen minutes.” He turns the
car toward the side of town where one of Overmaster Descallia’s national clubs is located.
My chest heaves with indignation and more than a little fear not knowing Devora’s full
involvement with the vampires, or that of her niece, only what I’ve heard about Raven. And nothing
about that is good. A witch who turned her back on her sister coven, including her aunt. Instead of
helping us, she shacks up with the same vampire master who’s trying to buy up all the land around the
academy in Romania, box the witches in, and try to get us to sell the land that’s belonged to the
witches for centuries.
I take in the determined jaw of the master vampire from the side as he drives. Too handsome for
his own good with that squared-off chin and those dark eyes that can see right through you while
wanting to run my finger through all of that short spikey head of hair.
His lip twist in a smirk, and my blood boils. “Get out of my mind, pureblood!”
Campania doesn’t answer, just steers the car toward the bright red flashing light atop a high-
pitched rooftop that says Descallia. He drives around to the parking lot at the back and pulls up
beside the employee entrance before turning the car off. Master Campania turns to me. “No funny
business, or the witches at the warehouse pay for your folly, understood?”
Yes, assbag.
He laughs. “It’s master assbag to you.” He comes to a stop, and I watch as his powerful thighs and
buttocks move with panther-like grace as he comes around to my side of the car. He leads me into the
club and down the stairs to the lower level where even if I scream no one could hear a single word of
it at all.
Chapter 7
 Campania

I GUIDE THE IRRITATING LITTLE ENCHANTRESS DOWN THE STEPS INTO THE LOWER LEVEL OF THE CLUB.
Her eyes widen, taking in the half-dressed couples who mingle at tables. The couches scattered
randomly around the floor afford each area privacy with large petitioned screens. While the large
potted plants have no chance in hell of growing in the dungeon, they do provide discreet cover for the
wanton lovers who haven’t yet decided to move into the playrooms.
Willow’s eyes linger on the ownership jewelry adorning the woman we pass on the way. No one
even looks up from what they’re doing, too intent on their partners and their anticipated play session
to give us any mind.
Romano and Raven are in the office at the end of the hall, waiting for us when we arrive. I close
the door behind us. Raven moves from the seat across from Descallia’s chair to stand next to Romano.
The air changes immediately. The animosity between the two witches is palpable, heating up the
room with its intensity. Romano must feel it too and places his arm around Raven, protecting the
female he plans to one day soon call his mate. She looks up at him and sucks in a deep breath as
though just being in the same room with Willow takes effort, although she’s willing to try.
It may be a big ask, but I don’t apologize. If Raven wants to be Master Romano’s mate, she has
less than a year to prove her allegiance to the vampires. Overmaster Descallia and a few others may
be impressed with her recent acts of commitment, but I’m not convinced. I want to see how she does
when faced with a situation she has no time to prepare for or without the ability to warn the other
witches beforehand.
Raven’s watching me, expectedly. She’s a little nervous, but I don’t smell fear, just a bubbling
animosity either aimed at Willow, or at me, for putting her in the middle of the mess.
I have no time for these two and their bubbling emotions. I point to Willow. “Willow knows
where the rogue witches are at. She’s going to tell me what I want to know one way or another. I don’t
want her putting a curse or hex on me or any of the other vampire masters when I take that gag out of
her mouth or untie her hands, though, either. “Can you do something to help and keep her from putting
a hex on me while her mouth isn’t gagged?”
Raven’s eyes swirl as she watches her sister witch carefully, then she turns to me. “Where are the
other witches being kept?”
My eyebrows lift with suspicion. What the hell does that matter? I don’t miss Romano’s surprise
at Raven’s question either. “Why do you ask that?”
Raven shrugs. “Distance matters sometimes. I need to make sure they can’t communicate too.”
I’m careful not to give away too much information, still unable to fully put all my cards on the
table with the witch, regardless of Romano’s devotion to the female. Maybe a few miles.
 Suddenly, Raven has a long wand in her hand. Instinct causes my hand to reach for my weapon, a
Glock nine loaded and ready. She doesn’t seem to notice, though, turning to Raven instead and sizing
her up for a moment. “We’ll make this as painless as possible. If you take Master Campania where he
wants to go, I’ll reverse the curse as soon as you do.” Raven turns to me. “That’s okay, Master
Campania?”
I nod.
Gold flecked daggers seem to dance in Willow’s eyes as she glares at me and then Raven. I may
not want the seductive little witch to hurt, but there’s also no time to waste because she can lead us to
the others we hunt. “Do it now. The sun will be up in less than four hours, and we’ll be another day
behind our enemies.”
Raven nods. “Sorry, Willow.” She raises her wand and murmurs words in a language that I don’t
understand. My jaw locks with irritation. “English.”
She shakes her head. “This is a special curse. It can only be done in our native tongue,” she says,
before starting anew with her incantation. My eyes narrow, not fully trusting that the sneaky witches
won’t do something to turn the tables on Romano and me. My hand stays close to the weapon at my
side.
The more Raven chants, the more agitated Willow becomes. Her eyes grow wide, and she shakes
her head vehemently from side to side as the verse comes to an end. I look carefully for signs of a
curse. She doesn’t look a bit different to me. I don’t know what I was expecting, a frozen version of
Willow, or something tangible telling me for certain a spell had been placed, but none of that is
visible, at least to the eye of a vampire.
Raven turns to me. “You can take the gag from her mouth and ask her anything. As a precaution, I
removed her ability to cast spells or communicate with the other witches. Additionally, if you ask her
a question, she’ll have no choice but to tell you the truth, or nothing at all.”
Willow glares at Raven who looks pleased with herself. “Thank you,” I tell Raven, genuinely
appreciating her taking the extra security with the witch. “If you two want to take off, that’s fine. I’m
going to go over the rules with Willow. I’ll call you when we find the rogue witches or if we need
some help. I don’t want to run you on another goose chase tonight,” I tell both Raven and Romano.
Romano nods and places his arm around Raven before transporting them from the lower-level
club, leaving me alone with the dark-haired seductress who eyes me with suspicious curiosity.
I walk closer, and take my time, trying my best to alleviate her angst. Her heart still beats fast, and
the little pulse on the side of that creamy throat throbs rapidly. Willow is still fearful, but to a far
lesser degree, something that makes me feel better about the situation. Although, I shouldn’t give two
fucks how the deceitful witch feels after the trouble she caused tonight.
I point to the socks still stuffed in her mouth while looking down at her wide eyes. “I’m going to
take the gag out. If you didn’t notice the empty rooms we passed, they were all full of equipment. If
you don’t tell me what I want to know, and take me there right away, you are going to find yourself
locked in one of those rooms with me, and it will not be for play. I will spank your petulant and
deceitful little ass until you can’t sit for a week. Are we clear?”
She swallows deeply, her creamy throat pulsing with emotion. The only clue that what I’ve said
resonates with her at all. I tug on the socks which are now wet with her moisture and toss them into a
nearby garbage.
She sucks in a breath repeatedly for a moment. “I’ll take you to the witches.” The abruptness of
her offer causes me to wonder if her giving in so quickly means the other shoe is about to drop or if
the spell is really working.
 I cut the ties from her wrists. “Do not make me regret untying you. The cables can’t be that
comfortable. Back to the car, and this time when I ask you where to go, I want a clear and direct
answer.”
Her eyes spark, perhaps she possesses magic with or without that damn curse. “I would tell you to
go to hell and send you to the dark ages where you belong if I could, but you’ve had my power taken
away, you asshole.”
It takes effort not to laugh at the sassy little thing. I take her by the arm and guide her upstairs and
out to the car. “Then it’s a good thing that it’s gone. I want to know where they are, and you’re going
to tell me with no more tricks or delays.”
When we’re both settled, she shifts in her seat and turns to me. “Why would you use a witch to
find a witch? I mean, aren’t there a thousand other ways to find them? Why involve people you know
aren’t willing to help you?” She inspects a long green fingernail. “Well, at least without coercion.”
There’s no use keeping the truth from her; it’s bound to get out at some time in the future. I look
both ways down Main Street. “Devora suggested it. She thought it would be a good way for her to
find you at the same time we were locating them. Which way?”
Her head swivels abruptly. “You’re reporting my whereabouts to Devora regardless of what I tell
you? I thought we had a deal, that you weren’t going to tell her?”
I scowl. “Which way?”
“Left.”
I veer onto the main road. “I don’t plan to disclose your whereabouts to Devora. I thought after
learning of the witch’s plot to harm your head witch that you might want to return and help them.”
It takes her a few minutes to reply. “My friends and I don’t mean any harm to come of Devora or
the other witches at the academy, but we left for a reason. We’re not planning to return. At least not of
our own free will.”
I navigate through the traffic. “Then the rumors about you ladies striking out on your own for a
different way of life are true.”
Willow’s head snaps around so fast that her black hair flies around with it. “Mind your business,
pureblood. I may have to answer you truthfully, but nothing about that curse says that I have to answer
you at all, if I don’t want to. Understand?”
Irritating or not, it’s hard not to laugh at the gumption on this enchantress. “Hard, right,” she says
suddenly, causing me to turn fast but almost miss the turn. She slides into the door and stays there until
we come out of the turn.
I glare at her after straightening out the wheels. “Was that on purpose?”
She turns to me and gives me a seductive little smile that hardens my cock. “Yes.”
I see how this is going to play out with the pesky little witch. Game on, little enchantress, game
on.
Chapter 8
 Willow

DEVORA MAY HAVE ENTRUSTED THE PUREBLOOD WITH FINDING THE ROGUE WITCHES , BUT SHE HAD NO
right to sick the beast on me and the other witches who wanted free of her control. “Where are my
friends?”
He continues driving and turns off the music that’s been playing in the background. “They’re safe
and being well cared for until we find the rogues. When we do, I’ll return them to you without harm.”
A thought has been rattling around in my brain since he found me at the club. “Why me? I can’t
figure out why Devora would send you after me and my friends. We have done nothing except
separate from the academy. It’s not like we want to do her or anyone there any harm.”
“Perhaps she wants to make sure you’re safe, and this is her way of doing it,” he offers.
I stroke the stone hanging around my neck. “Maybe if she weren’t so busy trying to teach us that
life outside of hexes, curses, and potions shouldn’t exist, we would have stayed. But there is more
outside of life than what they teach at the academy. We were living proof that witches can lead an
entirely normal life outside of those walls, until she sicked you on us.”
“Need I remind you that all you had to do was answer a question truthfully—tell me where to find
the rogue witches, and you will be able to wash your hands of me. It was your deceit that got you and
your friends into this situation.”
The pureblood isn’t wrong, and he hasn’t tried to hurt me, really. Aside from sticking a dirty sock
in my mouth, tying me up, and holding me against my will. Still, he and his beastly friends could have
done so much more. “You’re going to take a right at the light.”
His eyebrows raise. “What do I owe the warning?”
I shrug, playing with the glitter on the end of my nail. “Maybe I was a little too hard on you. I
guess you could have dragged me back to Devora or done any number of things. You could have
burned us, seared us with your eyes, all kinds of things, or worse—promised to take us back to
Devora when all is said and done.”
Campania slows the vehicle to an almost stop as traffic gets congested near the club we’re
heading toward. He turns to me. “I can’t speak of Devora myself. All I know is her actions against the
vampires for so many centuries until recently. Raven may not agree with all the teachings of the
academy, but she still thinks highly of her aunt, regardless.”
Never in all my years would I have dreamed that I’d be sitting next to a pureblood who’s calmly
rationalizing the actions and attributes of one of the strictest head witches around. One who will do
anything to ensure the land the vampires think is theirs stays in the hands of the witches. “The club up
ahead. Torelli’s on the right. There’s a parking lot in the back that’s shared by a few of the
establishments. It’s a rougher part of town, so you might want to park this fancy machine near the door
so the greeter can keep an eye on it.”
Campania doesn’t respond, but does take my advice, finding a spot not too far from the door. He
turns off the motor, unfastens his seatbelt, and turns to me. “Anything I need to know before walking
through that door?” he asks, texting a message on his phone as he waits for my reply.
“Nothing that you haven’t already heard on the street. The rogue witches took off from the
academy suddenly. Rumor is that they’re working with Isala and the rogue vampires who don’t
believe the vampire masters should stay in power.”
His dark eyes penetrate me with their intensity. “Isala is dead now. Do you know the names of the
vampires who are working with the rogues?”
I sigh, knowing this was going to come up and dreading that it would. I could just refuse to
answer, but the way this pureblood seems to be able to understand my thoughts it would just be
delaying the inevitable. Give them what they want, get my friends back to safety, and disappear with
them where no one can find us again. I decide to come clean and stop stalling.
“Rumors, of course, but you and I both know whispers on the street tend to be part fact and part
fiction. I’ll give them to you, and you can do with the information what you will, but please do not tell
anyone that it was me who told you.”
He growls under his breath, a deep, sexy growl that should have me running for the hills, but
instead sends a shiver of desire down the length of my spine. I inhale and exhale slowly, trying to
dissipate the feeling so he doesn’t notice or know what I’m thinking, but not much gets past the
powerful vampire master.
Sexy little enchantress.
I turn, looking out the window as he parks, my cheeks still hot with embarrassment at being caught
thinking of him in that way.
His voice pulls me back into the moment and the business at hand. “You know what I want from
the witches? The names of the vampires who betrayed us. Do you know the names of the traitors? It
would save us the time of going through the other witches.”
I gesture to the entrance of Torelli’s, biding my time, still unsure whether to divulge what I know
about the vampires. “You’ll find the witches inside the club. They should be able to tell you exactly
who betrayed you. Please, I don’t want to be on the bad side of any witch or vampire. Can you
understand that?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t tell me no either. His eyes search mine, though. “And the traitor
vampires, the syndicate? What do you know? How do they play into this, Willow?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’ve heard whispers about men at the top who want the vampires gone so
they can control the streets again. Isala was luring the witches and shifters away from their own by
promising them a new tomorrow where she and they would hold all the power. It sounded as though
some of the soldiers who call themselves the warriors are involved, but I don’t know any names.”
Campania clears his throat. “The witches and shifters weren’t the only ones who lost people to
her. We had traitors among us who went with her too. More than I’d like to admit. She’s gone now, put
into the ground for her betrayal, but there are more like her that we have to find.”
A sudden tap on the window causes me to jump. Raven looks through the window, smiling as
Romano towers beside her. Campania rolls down the window with a press of a button and leans
toward me to talk to them. “The others should be here momentarily. We’ll most likely encounter
syndicate, shifters, and the witches we’re after. If they’ve congregated together, I don’t think they’ll
get taken without a fight. If you have to make a choice, go after the witches. That’s the mission—get
the witches who defected from Devora and are voluntarily working with the rogues. If we can’t get
the truth from them, Devora can.”
My heart beats faster and faster, the blood coursing through my veins at unprecedented speed as I
digest what the vampire master is saying. The head witch agreeing to something like this— against
her own witches, traitors or not—is unheard of. It simply can’t be true. Why would Devora do such a
thing? Surely the witches could simply be banned from the coven, a spell cast to send them to the dark
ages or something other than playing in the sandbox with the vampires who she teaches us to hate.
Unless she’s up to something; not unusual for her in the least.
Campania gestures toward the window as three more vampires join the group outside. The ones
who took my sisters bound and gagged to some warehouse probably in the middle of nowhere. I suck
in a deep breath, having no choice but to believe what Campania tells me is true. They are being well
cared for… I let that settle my nerves as he gets out of the car, walks around, and opens my door,
extending a hand to assist me out and over the puddle on the street and onto the curb.
Another group walks around the corner. I would recognize Overmaster Descallia anywhere after
all the pictures I’ve seen of him on the screens of the academy classrooms over the years. The
glowing crystalline green eyes of the woman next to him can only be from one woman, Lucianna. The
one rumored to be Overmaster Descallia’s mate who the rogue vampires drove a stake through and
killed so many centuries ago, only recently reincarnated to join her mate.
Campania takes me by the arm as the others begin walking toward the club entrance. “Stay close
to me. I don’t expect you to fight on our behalf, only to help us find the witches.”
I nod, but fear almost paralyzes me as the sound of dark wings flap in the night, and the smell of
vampires fill the air. “Just a precaution,” Campania says. “They’ll stand guard in case they’re needed,
nothing more.”
It takes effort to keep walking, even with the strength of him by my side and his assurances, the
pictures of flocks of vampires descending over witches’ covens years and years ago flood my mind.
So many images of this very same thing happening, but in all of them they were coming after the
witches. And isn’t that what we’re here to do, find witches, my sisters, regardless of what they’ve
done? My mind swirls with the betrayal and the situation Devora has placed me in.
He pulls me close before we get to the door. “Do not believe all the head witches have taught you
about the vampires, Willow. The witches have never been our targets, but the vampires will defend
themselves and their position in the world when attacked. Stay close to me, and you will be fine.”
My heart throbs so loudly that I’m positive they can hear every erratic beat. Campania tilts my
chin so that I have no option but to look into the deep dark eyes that are tinged with red. “Okay?”
I nod, almost too numb with fear of the vampires swarming around us to do anything else. His
hand slides to my lower back, guiding me as we enter the nightclub, the rhythmic beat of the music
thrumming throughout the club.
The cackling of witches cuts through the sounds of the bustling nightclub. I scan the room looking
for the traitors who have brought all this heartache to my door, but it’s far too late to take them by
surprise. I should have known just like I did, just like every witch in the world, they’d smell the
vampires coming a mile away.
Because they were ready for us…
The room swirls in a flood of activity as six witches fly through the air, their skirts midair as they
lower themselves on their brooms, bee lining toward us at record speed.
Chapter 9
 Campania

EVEN BEFORE THE CACKLING STARTS AND THE ROOM ERUPTS WITH PANDEMONIUM, EVERY VAMPIRE IN
the room is on high alert. Their intense sense of smell alerting them to the impending danger of the
witches who are always trying to cast one spell or another. More of an annoyance since most spells
can be reversed, but still, nothing to disregard as insignificant if you’re the one caught in the evil
bitch’s spell.
Willow’s heart pounds with fear, the blood pumping through her body at a dangerous speed. I step
in front of her, shielding her from the onslaught of angry witches heading our way. Raven stands by
Romano’s side, ready to do battle on our behalf against the broom-riding biddies, constantly trying to
prove her allegiance to the vampires. While her spells may have helped us save time and the
annoyance of minor spells cast by Willow and her friends, these witches are working for the rogues
who intend to send us to the depths of hell if given a chance. An opportunity that I do not, by any
means, intend to allow.
The humans have long since vacated the club, either sensing the underworld clash or when the
shifters and witches took over the club. No matter the reason, or when, as long as they are not in
harm’s way. The rest, the ones who stand together in this club with weapons drawn against the
vampires, will not live to see another day.
The shifters sit at tables around the club, watching with smiles on their drooling faces, probably
intending to see a good show of the witches besting the vampires. They should know better than to
believe the stories the witches have spread. While they may do their best to annoy us and keep us at
bay, magic or not, they are no match for a pureblood vampire who will win a battle hands down, on
any given day.
I let the witches get closer before sending a searing stream of fire toward them, not forceful
enough to burn them alive but strong enough to hold them back. The fire causes mass pandemonium
from the shifters who weren’t prepared for that and begin to attack.
Clay, Terrence, and Romano go head-to-head with the mangy wolves, swords and small daggers
wielded against gnashing teeth and claws intended to tear flesh to the bone as each group fights for
control. The shifters should know they are no match for the vampires. The battles over the centuries
should serve as proof of that, but still, they do their best to draw blood from their foe.
The witches are surrounded by a never-ending ring of fire, one they already know they can’t get
through. If the witch’s academy taught them anything, it should have been not to attack the vampires
without a complex plan in place to overpower us and drive a wooden stake deep into our hearts, but
still the danger of annoying spells they can cast exists. Aggravation that none of us have time to deal
with today. “Raven, your magic!” I tell her, but her wand is already out. She’s quietly chanting against
the angry glares of the witches we’ve managed to corral in the air.
Raven finishes her spell, and with two waves of her wand the screeching of the irate witches ends
with a sudden eerie quiet. A sixth sense tells me that this match is far from over, though, my keen
sense of smell alerting me to the far side of the club, where seven pairs of yellow eyes from the
mangy shifter bastards begin to glow.
I step in front of Willow. “Stay behind me.” I ready my sword for a heated battle with the shifters.
They’ll be sorry they ever started working for the rogue vampires who’ve been trying to drive us into
the ground for as many centuries as I can count. They growl and paw the tiled floor of the club,
seemingly ready to enter a battle they will not win.
Romano and the crew have barely bested their opponents, leaving them severed and bloody on the
floor when the wolves leap through the air and attack. Five of us to their seven, a match that not one
of the vampires is concerned about, our swords and daggers ready to slay the mangy bastards who
seem to multiply in numbers as our search for the rogues continues.
One of the wolves’ lands on Clay’s well-placed blade and slumps to the floor as his blood seeps
from his traitorous body. It should be a warning to the rest of them, but instead the killing of one of
their own fuels their anger. They don’t take turns this time; instead, they charge all at once, their lips
pulled back, exposing enormous and jagged incisors as they growl their anger.
Blades and daggers manage to keep the gnashing teeth at bay, until opportunity arises to sever a
limb or drive a long steel sword into the chest cavity of our foe. One by one we take them down, but
even before Willow’s bloodcurdling cry I know it’s far from the end of this heated exchange.
“Campania, more wolves!” Willow cries. The sound of terror in her voice causes my heart to
pound until I see that she’s safely behind us and still in one piece. Just a second of time to turn and
check on her, but more than enough for the number of our enemies to grow.
At least seven more slink from the shadows of the club, pushing over chairs and spilling
abandoned drinks as they approach. The gray mangy one in front takes an unexpected leap, barely
giving me time to pull my bloody long blade from one of his brothers before he lands in front of me.
His sullen eyes take in the wolves laying slain at our feet, each of them dead and swimming in a pool
of their own blood. He paws the earth, growling, drool hanging in strands from his massive jowls and
getting ready for his attack, but that’s not something I’m going to allow.
I send a red-hot line of fire right to his chest, scorching his coat, and setting his hair on fire. The
first of many who will feel the heat of my wrath if they don’t back the fuck off. The other wolves howl
their angst, turning with tucked tails and scattering as quickly as they can to the exit through the back.
They can run, but they can’t hide. The perimeter is surrounded by all of our guards, circling high
above them in the night and just waiting for them to come out.
Willow’s eyes are wide and swirling, and her heart is beating erratically. She’s so distressed that
I can hear it pounding in her chest. I put my arm around her, an unfamiliar need to protect. I push a
long black whisp of hair from her face and stroke a finger down her cheek. “It’s okay. The witches
will tell me what I need to know. It’s over for you. I’ll take you to your friends, and then you can wash
your hands of me and this night.”
She inhales deeply, closes her eyes, and strokes the bauble.
My eyes narrow. “Surely you’re not going to turn me into a toad or something after all we’ve been
through,” I say, trying to add some levity to at least settle her nerves.
She doesn’t answer for longer than I like, continuing to stroke the damn stone around her neck as it
shines with a bright blue light.
“Willow?”
 Her eyes open wide suddenly and the swirling blends to a bright crystalline blue, as clear as the
ocean on a summer’s day. “Lucianna, she’s in trouble. The vampire estate is being attacked.”
Raven’s eyes swirl and then stop. “I see it too. Overmaster Descallia’s place. We have to help
Lucianna!” she cries.
Not one of us questions the witches, realizing all the manpower sent as a precaution to ensure we
caught the rogue witches and wolves has come at the ultimate price—leaving Overmaster Descallia
and Lucianna open for attack.
I use the heat of my eyes to send another ring of fire around the witches. It should ensure they’ll be
exactly where we left them when we return. I take Willow’s arm and transport her through the night.
Regardless of Descallia’s rules, it’s far too late to worry about showing the witches our powers. It’s
not like they haven’t seen it a million times before over the centuries. Willow doesn’t look the least
bit fazed by our method of journey when we reach the estate. Instead, her gaze is intently staring into
the air far above Overmaster’s vast property.
A bright blue haze fills the night above the trees, the image of Devora settling above us like a
floating cloud. The apparition sends the birds scattering in different directions, crashing through the
leaves in their haste and causing the leaves to fall in the crispness of the night. I turn to Willow and
Raven. “Witches?”
Willow and Raven must be thinking the same thing. Devora would never condone members of her
coven to help the vampires, yet here they are, in all their splendor, far above us. Willow strokes the
stone around her neck before looking at me. “I may have wanted some time apart, separation from the
witches at the academy, and admittedly Devora’s never-ending teaching, but if she’s given the witches
her blessing to help the vampires, then I need to know. I need to connect with her.”
Devora’s image suddenly floats high above the tree in a circle of blue light. Her voice rings out
clearly in the night. “The rogue vampires came for Lucianna. Overmaster Descallia and the guards
were able to keep them at bay with the help of the ghouls.” She gestures to the green buzzing lights
speeding toward us in the distance. “We were here in case they needed our help, but it wasn’t
necessary,” Devora says.
I’m at a loss with the recent amiability between Descallia, the syndicate, and the witches, but
whatever the reason, good manners seem prudent at a time like this. “On behalf of all the masters,
thank you. Also, for allowing Willow to help us find the witches who went rogue. We were able to
secure them but haven’t yet had a chance to question the ones in our possession.”
Devora’s eye swirl like Willow’s when she’s has something on her mind. “Bring them to me after
you’re done. That was the deal made with Descallia. I expect it will be soon, vampire.” The hard
edge to her voice is more like the Devora I’ve known over the centuries, but still, a deal is a deal.
I give her a curt nod of agreement. “I’ll discuss it with Overmaster Descallia. If that’s the
agreement reached between the two of you, then you can expect it will be upheld. The witches will be
brought to you as soon as we have the information we need. It won’t be long; of that you can be
assured.”
The head witch doesn’t answer me or say a word to Willow or to Raven. She simply disappears
in a waft of blue tinged smoke. We watch as the tendrils of color trailing behind her settle in the air
and then dissipates. This night has gone from odd to more fucking bizarre every hour that passes.
Witches helping vampires, me a pureblood wanting to bed a sexy little witch, but worse than that, the
thought of Willow in danger. The need to protect her hasn’t left my mind since she first showed real
signs of fear.
I don’t do relationships, plain and simple. A master free to do whatever he chooses, enjoying a
selection of sexy females who are more than willing to keep my bed warm for an hour or two. No
more than that, no relationships. A hard and fast rule since a heartbreak centuries ago. I’ve stuck with
that decision since that time, and it’s served me well. Have a little fun and move on. No emotional
attachments, I’d do well to remember that when she looks at me with those beautiful eyes that seem to
see right through my dark hearted soul.
Like it or not, my attraction to Willow is undeniable. She stands looking at Raven and Romano
who have set out ahead of us on our way to Overmaster Descallia’s front door. Her pathways are
blurry, and I’m unable to get a good read on what she’s thinking, causing me in turn to wonder just
how much of what’s running through my mind she understands.
Her attention turns, and those wide eyes settle on mine. The pulse on the side of her neck quickens
with the racing of her blood. Willow senses the intruder too. She may not be able to smell their stench
from a mile away, but she feels their presence. Shifters, the mangy wolf bastards must have circled
back or sent more after being chased out of the property by the ghouls. This time, they’ll wish they
had never set foot on vampire territory, especially that of the overmaster himself.
Chapter 10
Another random document with
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5 A Study of Maya Art, 1913, p. 225. ↑
6 See his commentaries on the several codices, passim. ↑
7 See Torquemada, bk. vi, c. 24. ↑
8 Sahagun, III, c. 4; Anales de Quauhtitlan. ↑
9 On Quetzalcoatl generally see Sahagun, passim; Torquemada, vol. i, p. 254; Motolinia, tom. i,
pp. 10–11; and Mendieta, passim. ↑
10 Consult bibliography to chapter ix of H. B. Alexander’s North American Mythology. Boston,
1916. ↑
11 Sahagun, bk. vi, c. viii. ↑
12 See appendix on Tonalamatl. ↑
13 See chapter on Cosmogony. ↑
14 Seler, Codex Vaticanus B, 1902–3, p. 174. ↑
15 In many cosmogonies—Hindu, Babylonian, Chinese, Scandinavian, for example—the earth is
formed from the remains of a slain monster or living being. ↑
16 See section on Tlaloc. ↑
17 Payne in his History of the New World called America, vol. i, 1892, pp. 424 ff., was the first to
indicate the “fetishtic” nature of this statue, which he identifies as that of Chicomecoatl. He pours
the vials of scorn upon “the Italian dilettante Boturini” for his identification of the block as
Uitzilopochtli-Teoyaomiqui. He further states that it “has no limbs,” but its large, scaly dragon-legs
are at least as obvious as his lack of success in giving the sculpture its proper name. ↑
18 See my article “Cherokees” in Hastings’ Encyclopædia of Religion and Ethics, vol. iii, p. 504. ↑
19 See Brinton, Nagualism. ↑
20 Anales de Quauhtitlan (Brasseur, Hist. Nat. Civ. de Mex., vol. i, pp. 400 ff.). ↑
21 Codex Vaticanus, 1902–3, p. 75. ↑
22 For much Mexican star-lore of value see Seler’s Venus Period in the Picture-Writings of the
Borgia Codex Group, translated into English in Bulletin 28 of the Bureau of American Ethnology,
pp. 355 ff. For the myth see section on Cosmogony. ↑
23 Bk. ii, c. 4. ↑
24 See Appendix on Tonalamatl. ↑
25 Sahagun, bk. ii, Appendix. ↑
26 Clavigero, Storia del Messico, vol. i, bk. vi, p. 257 (English translation). ↑
27 The native name for Mexico, signifying “Place upon the water.” ↑
28 Monarq. Ind., tom. ii, p. 525. ↑
29 Hist. Mex., tom. i, pp. 291–2. ↑
30 See the section on Tlaloc. ↑
31 Notes on the Shushwap People of British Columbia, “Proceedings and Transactions of the Royal
Society of Canada,” 1891, vol. ix, sect. ii. Montreal, 1892. ↑
32 Sahagun, Hist. Gen., bk. ii, c. xiv. ↑
33 Hist. de Tlaxcallan, c. v. ↑
34 See Section on Itzpapalotl. ↑
35 See chapter on Cosmogony. ↑
36 See Sahagun, bk. i, c. 6. ↑
37 See chapter on Cosmogony. ↑
38 Torquemada, bk. viii, c. 13. ↑
39 Although some of the old authors, Bernal Diaz for instance, say explicitly that the gods of one
city were not recognized in another, in effect they were, only under other names. ↑
[Contents]
CHAPTER II
 COSMOGONY

Accounts of the creation of the world and of man, even as handed down to us by
those writers on Mexican mythology who had the best opportunities for collecting
them, are prone to vagueness, and differ so materially one from another that we will
probably not be in error if we impute their inconsistencies to a variety of local
origins. As regards the agencies by whom the creation or reconstruction of the earth
was accomplished, we are not in doubt, for certain passages in the Interpretative
Codices find almost exact corroboration in the creation story contained in the Popol
Vuh, the mythic book of the Quiche of Guatemala (which was unknown to the
interpreters of the Mexican Codices), as well as in similar works of Maya origin.

The interpreter of the Codex Telleriano-Remensis states that the god Tonacatecutli,
“when it appeared good to him, breathed and divided the waters of the heavens and
the earth, which at first were all confused together, and disposed them as they now
are.” 1 Further, “he breathed and begot Quetzalcoatl, not by connection with a
woman, but by his breath alone.” 2 The first of these deities, and his female
counterpart Tonacaciuatl, are almost certainly spoken of in the Popol Vuh as “the
serpents covered with green feathers,” which, farther on in the Quiche work, are
alluded to as Xpiyacoc and Xmucane, gods who are generally admitted to be the
same as the Mexican Oxomoco and Cipactonal, who, again, are either identical
with or closely connected with Tonacatecutli and his spouse. 3 Quetzalcoatl, [37]too,
appears in the Popol Vuh as Gucumatz, a known Quiche equivalent or translation
of his name, for as “wind” or “breath” he was also thought of as “spirit” or “life,” and
probably his fecundating efficacy as a water-bearing god was also taken into
consideration. In the Sahagun MS. in the Academia de la Historia, Madrid, is a
passage which reads when translated: “They say that he made, created, and
formed us whose creatures we are, Topiltzin Quetzalcoatl, and he made the
heaven, the sun, the earth.” The Anales de Quauhtitlan or Codex Chimalpopca, 4
too, relates how Quetzalcoatl created the four classes of humanity, the men of the
four “suns” or periods of the world, and how men were made by him on the day “7
wind,” and, as we shall see, the work of creation in detail is alluded to in the Historia
de los Mexicanos por sus Pinturas, as effected by him and by Tezcatlipocâ. Lastly,
we find in the Creative Council of the Quiche heaven, Hurakan, who is none other
than Tezcatlipocâ, a deity closely connected with Quetzalcoatl in at least one
Mexican creation myth.
[Contents]

THE “AGES” OF MEXICAN COSMOGONY

Having thus satisfied ourselves regarding the creative personnel of the Mexican
pantheon, and preserving further proof of the constructive character of certain of
these deities until we come to discuss them individually, we may proceed to
examine such myths as tell of the formation of the world. In the belief of the
Mexicans the earth was not destined to receive its present inhabitants, although
occupied by man-like beings, until it had undergone a series of cataclysms or partial
destructions, regarding the precise incidence and even the number of which there is
a marked difference of opinion on the part of the older authorities.

The interpreter of the Codex Vaticanus states that “in the first age” (or “Sun,” as
these periods were called by the Nahua of Mexico) “water reigned until at last it
destroyed [38]the world.… This age, according to their computation, lasted 4,008
years, and on the occurrence of that great deluge they say that men were changed
into fish, named Tlacamichin, which signifies men-fish.” 5 The second age, he tells
us, lasted for 4,010 years and the world was ended by the force of violent winds,
the catastrophe concluding by the transformation of men into apes. The third age
endured for 4,801 years and ended in a universal fire, and in the fourth, which
occupied 5,042 years, the human race, which had never ceased to transmit a few
survivors from one of these epochs to the next, was almost destroyed by famine.

In his Historia Chichimeca 6 Ixtlilxochitl calls the first of these epochs Atonatiuh
(Water Sun), in which all men perished by a great inundation. The second epoch,
Tlachitonatiuh (Earth Sun), ended with violent earthquakes. In this age lived
gigantic beings called Quinames. The third epoch was Ecatonatiuh, or “Sun of
Wind,” in which edifices, trees, and men were nearly all destroyed by hurricanes,
those who remained being changed into creatures of an intelligence so low as to be
almost indistinguishable from monkeys. 7 The Texcucan chronicler does not furnish
us with the name of the present age in his Historia, nor in his Relaciones, 8 where,
however, we receive fuller information regarding the first three epochs, which he
succeeds in carelessly transposing, giving the third the second place.
 THE GREAT CALENDAR STONE OF MEXICO.

(Now in the Museo Naçional, Mexico.)

Camargo 9 would almost appear to have been indebted to Ixtlilxochitl for his version
of the creation myth, but he seems to have been under the impression that only two
of the epochs were ended. That three past cataclysms had taken place and that
four ages in all had occurred is, indeed, the most generally favoured version of the
story, but some [39]authorities seem to have been of the opinion that a myth was
current among the Mexican people which stated that no less than five epochs had
taken place in the history of the world. Gama, Gomara, and Humboldt share this
view, and Mendieta is of opinion that five “suns” existed before the present era, all
of which were of such noxious character that the inhabitants of the earth languished
and perished through their baneful influence.

But we have more stable authority for the sequence of these “suns” or epochs. It is
probable that this cataclysmic theory was in vogue among the Nahua for
generations before it received a more or less definite form, and, indeed, Veytia 10
and Ixtlilxochitl 11 state that the number of suns was agreed upon at a meeting of
native astronomers within traditional memory. We are probably following the official
version of the myth if we accept that to which the so-called calendar-stone of
Mexico gives sculptured form and which may be interpreted as follows: While the
world was still wrapped in primeval gloom, the god Tezcatlipocâ transformed
himself into the sun. This epoch, which was known as Naui Ocelotl or “Four
Jaguar,” ended in the destruction of humanity and the race of giants who then
inhabited the earth by fierce jaguars. Quetzalcoatl became the second sun, and the
age of Naui Eecatl or “Four Wind” ended in violent hurricanes, during which men
were transformed into monkeys. Tlaloc then took upon himself the task of providing
the world with light, and his epoch of Naui Quiauitl or “Four Rain” came to an end
by means of a deluge of fire. The goddess Chalchihuitlicue represented the sun of
the age Naui Atl, “Four Water,” at the end of which there descended a deluge in
which men were changed into fishes. Later there appeared the present sun, Naui
Olin, which, it was believed, would end in earthquakes.

[Contents]

THE MAKING OF THE EARTH

The second chapter of the Historia de los Mexicanos por [40]sus Pinturas, a précis
of the opening chapters of which is given farther on, states that the gods “created a
great fish which is called the Cipactli, which is like the cayman [alligator], and of this
fish they made the earth.”

The description of the earth-monster, as it appears in the Codices, as an alligator or

sword-fish is, however, by no means convincing. Moreover, the sculptured
representation of the earth-monster in Maya art, especially in such examples as
that from Copan, is essentially dragon-like in form, and there would seem to be little
difficulty in classing the Cipactli as an earth-dragon, similar in nature to the cosmic
monster of Chinese art and mythology. The fact, too, that in the native paintings we
frequently observe the sun-god in the act of being swallowed by the Cipactli
strengthens the analogy with the Chinese example.
The Jaguar-sun.
 The Wind-sun.

STONES SHOWING THE SYMBOLS OF THE “SUNS” OR AGES.

[Contents]

THE PEOPLING OF THE EARTH

The precise manner in which the earth was peopled by the gods is also a subject
concerning which great variety of opinion is shown by the older writers on Mexican
beliefs, and, as in the case of the cosmogonic myth proper, this is probably to be
accounted for by local variation. Mendieta 12 is our authority for a conception which
appears to have gained wide currency in many parts of Mexico. There is good
evidence that he in turn received it from Andres de Olmos, a friar of great literary
integrity and linguistic capability, whose writings we may regard with credence and
confidence. The myth opens in the heavenly abode of the gods Citlalatonac and
Citlalicue, who were also known as Ometecutli and Omecihuatl or Tonacatecutli and
Tonacaciuatl, and whom the Mexicans regarded as the eventual sources of all
human life. The goddess gave birth to a flint knife, probably such an implement as
was employed for the purpose of human sacrifice. The circumstance appeared of
bad omen to her sons, who, scandalized by it, cast the flint earthwards. It fell in the
vicinity of Chicomoztoc, the Place of Seven Caves, [41]and immediately there
sprang from it an army of sixteen hundred gods, who, discontented with their
condition, dispatched Tlotli, the Hawk, as an ambassador to the heavenly sphere to
ask as a boon that the power of creating men might be conferred upon them, as it
was not fitting that beings of divine origin should suffer the miseries of earthly toil.
Their mother, who also seems to have been perplexed by the manner of their birth,
replied in no very gracious terms. But in order to relieve their wretchedness, she
directed them to seek the good offices of Mictlantecutli, Lord of the Realm of the
Dead, from whom, she suggested, they might obtain some of the relics of past
generations, which, if subjected to the magical influence of sacrifice, might provide
the beginnings of a new earth-race. After consultation, the earth-gods chose
Xolotl 13 as their messenger to the place of the dead, and after an interview with its
terrible ruler, he succeeded in obtaining a bone of superhuman dimensions. Fearful
of treachery at the hands of Mictlantecutli, Xolotl turned to flee, but was pursued
and, falling in his flight, broke in pieces the precious relic he carried. These he
hastily gathered up and succeeded in quitting the subterranean world without
mishap. Returning to his brothers, he placed the bone in a vessel, and each of the
earth-gods, drawing blood from his own body, dropped it into the receptacle. For
three days nothing occurred to justify their hopes; but on the fourth the gory mass
stirred, and from its depths there emerged a human boy. Satisfied with the
experiment, the gods repeated it, and at the end of another four days a girl arose
from the vessel. Xolotl was appointed guardian to the children so miraculously
created, 14 and nourished them upon the milk-like juice of the maguey plant. They
throve apace, and in course of time became [42]man and woman, the progenitors of
the entire human race, who differ in bulk and stature as the pieces of the rescued
bone varied in size and shape. Thus were born Iztac Mixcoatl the first man and
Ilanceuitl or Ilamatecutli, his wife.
The Water-sun.
 The Rain-sun.

STONES SHOWING THE SYMBOLS OF THE “SUNS” OR AGES.

[Contents]

CREATION OF THE SUN AND MOON

These deeds had, however, passed in a world of darkness, for as yet the sun had
not risen. A council of the gods was assembled at Teotihuacan, a locality of great
sanctity, and seated round a council fire, it considered the means by which the
luminary might be created. It was resolved that he who first cast himself into the fire
should be transformed into the sun. The offer was accepted by Nanahuatzin, who
was afflicted with a painful disease, had therefore found life intolerable and did not
dread the transformation. Nothing happened for some time after his self-immolation,
and the waiting gods began to make wagers with one another regarding the place
in the heavens where the sun would be likely to show itself. None of them had
considered it probable that it would rise in the East, and when at last it became
visible in that quarter, it was as a stationary mass which directed such scorching
rays upon them that they dispatched the hawk messenger to request it to depart.
Whether or not Nanahuatzin in his rôle of Sun-god was wroth with his brothers for
personal reasons, he replied that it was his intention to destroy them utterly. A great
fear seized upon some, whilst others grew angry and caught up their weapons.
Among the latter was Citli, who fitted an arrow to his bow and fired at the
transformed Nanahuatzin. The sun-god avoided the shaft. He could not, however,
evade all those which followed, but seizing one, cast it back at Citli, whom it
transfixed and slew. Fiercer became the heat, until at length the gods could tolerate
it no longer, and felt that it behoved them to perish by each other’s hands rather
than by the ignoble death of suffocation. They agreed that Xolotl should dispatch
them one by one, cutting open their breasts, and this holocaust he undertook, finally
slaying himself. Before perishing, the gods left their raiment to their personal
[43]servants, of which each retainer made a bundle, wrapping his master’s clothing
round a stick, placing a small green stone inside to serve as a heart, and naming it
after the god to whom it had belonged. Olmos himself encountered such a relic in
Tlalmanalco, exhibiting evidences of very considerable age. 15 On the death of the
gods the sun began to move in the heavens, and a god, Tecciztecatl, who had
hidden himself in a cavern when Nanahuatzin leaped into the fire, now emerged
from his hiding-place and took the form of the moon. The retainers carried the
bundles from place to place, and one of them, the servant of Tezcatlipocâ, coming
to the sea-shore, had a vision of his deceased master, who commanded him to
betake himself to the house of the sun and to bring him singers and players of
instruments to assist in the celebration of a festival. To enable the messenger to
travel to the Sun-House, the whale, the siren, and the tortoise were asked to form
themselves into a bridge which might reach the abode of the luminary. The servant
crossed it, singing sweetly as he went, and his song was heard by the Sun, who
straitly commanded his retainers not to respond to it on being approached by the
singer. This some of them failed to do, and returning with the messenger, took with
them the necessary instruments wherewith to celebrate the festival of Tezcatlipocâ.

The people of Texcuco, says Olmos, naturally placed the occurrence of these
events within their own boundaries, but they added (according to a pictorial
manuscript which they showed the friar) that the Sun shot a dart into the ground
and at this spot the first man arose. He was imperfect, being formed only from the
armpits upward. He was followed by a woman. Mendieta suppresses the remainder
of the myth because of its Rabelaisian details, but we may conclude that from these
twain humanity was descended.

Sahagun’s account of the creation of the sun and moon 16 [44]differs somewhat from
the foregoing and is as follows: The gods met at Teotihuacan, and asked one
another: “Who will undertake the task of lighting the world?” to which one god called
Tecciztecatl (he who was to become the Moon-god) replied: “That will I.” They cast
about for still another member of the pantheon to undertake the duty. At last they
fixed upon one who was afflicted with a terrible disease who at once agreed to the
accomplishment of their desires. During four days the gods prepared for the
occasion by acts of penitence, then they kindled a fire on a rock named Teotexcalli
(high place of the gods). Meanwhile Tecciztecatl made offerings of many precious
things, rich feathers and golden ornaments. The spines with which the gods
ceremonially pricked themselves were like the spines of the maguey, but were
made from precious stones, and the copal they used for incense was of no common
sort. The victim, who was called Nanahuatl, offered nine green reeds, joined three
and three, instead of the ordinary branches and balls of grass and spines of the
maguey generally employed for such ceremonies, and these he saturated with his
own blood. In place of copal he offered up the scabs of his sores. The gods built a
tower for each of the two divinities who had undertaken the illumination of the world,
and performed penance for four days and four nights. They then strewed the
ground with the branches, flowers, and other objects of which they had made use
during that time. On the night following, shortly before midnight, they brought
Tecciztecatl his ornaments. These consisted of a plumage called aztacomitl, made
of herons’ feathers, and a jacket of light stuff, whilst to Nanahuatl they gave a crown
of paper called amatzontli (paper hair) and a stole and cincture, likewise of paper.
Midnight having arrived, all the gods ranged themselves in the place called
Teotexcalli, where the fire had burned for four days. They arranged themselves into
two files, one on either side of the fire, and Tecciztecatl was requested to cast
himself into the burning mass. Terrified by the intense heat which he experienced
as he advanced towards the flames, the god recoiled; again and again he essayed
[45]to leap into the fire, but his courage failed him. Then the gods called upon
Nanahuatl, who, on being summoned, immediately cast himself into the blazing
mass, where he at once began to crackle “like meat that roasts.” Tecciztecatl,
ashamed of his former conduct, now followed him into the conflagration, and it was
said that the eagle entered the flames at the same time, which is the reason
assigned for its dark plumage. The tiger or ocelot followed, and was only partly
burnt, as is witnessed by its spots. It is evident that this myth applied in some
manner to the Aztec military brotherhoods of quauhtli and ocelotl, who wore the
eagle and ocelot insignia respectively. 17
The gods had already waited some time to witness the resurrection of Nanahuatl,
when they beheld the heavens commence to grow red. Terrified at the sight, they
fell upon their knees and could not comprehend whence the light had arisen. The
glow of sunrise illuminated every point of the compass, but many fixed their gaze
upon the East, feeling that in that direction the luminary would first be sighted.
Those who gazed thither were Quetzalcoatl (also called Eecatl), Totec, and
Tezcatlipocâ. Others called Mimixcoa were innumerable, and there were also
present four goddesses, Tiacapan, Teicu, Tlacoeua, and Xocoyotl. When the sun
rose at length he appeared very red, and no one might look upon him without being
blinded by his rays. The moon appeared at the same time, and gave forth light
equal to that of the orb of day. But the gods thought it ill that the moon should be as
bright as the sun, and therefore one of them took a rabbit and cast it at the face of
the moon, so that it remained there to dim its splendour. Although the sun and
moon were raised above the earth, they remained stationary. They spoke mockingly
to their erstwhile companions.

“How now,” they said, “do you wish to remain in mortal shame? Die all of you and
confer life upon the stars.” The wind then offered to discharge the function of
immolating [46]the gods and slew them one by one. Only Xolotl refused to die, and
begged for life, weeping so sorely that his eyes dropped out. When those who were
to make the sacrifice laid hold of him he fled and concealed himself in a field of
maize, where he changed himself into a stalk of that plant having two feet (roots)
such as the peasants call xolotl. But having been recognized among the maize, he
took flight a second time and hid himself among some maguey plants, where he
changed himself into the double maguey plant which is called mexolotl (maguey of
Xolotl). On being discovered a third time he took flight once more and threw himself
into the water, where he took the form of a fish called axolotl. 18 But in this last
disguise he was caught and killed.

When the gods had been slain the wind commenced to whistle and blow with
violence, so that at length the burning globe of the sun began to drift over the
heavens. But the moon still remained at rest, and in this manner they became
separated, so that their habit is to rise at different hours.

The Anales de Quauhtitlan, after the manner of the Book of Genesis, states that the
world and all therein were created in seven days. In the sign Tochtli the earth was
created, the firmament was erected in Acatl, animals came into being in Tecpatl,
and man was made out of dust or ashes on Ehecatl, the seventh day, but
completed and perfected by Quetzalcoatl, who appears to have played the part of a
demiurgos as regards the human race. There can be little doubt that this myth has
been sophisticated, or is a later invention. The Anales de Quauhtitlan, however,
sustains the accounts of Olmos and Sahagun regarding the creation of the sun and
moon.

Camargo, speaking of the Tlaxcaltec cosmology, 19 says that the Indians did not
believe that the world had been created, but that it had been produced by chance.
Space, according [47]to their philosophy, has always existed. Veytia 20 states that the
Mexicans believed the world and man to have been created by Tloque Nahuague
(Tonacatecutli). Boturini credits the creation to the same first cause, and passages
in Sahagun lead us to believe that both Tezcatlipocâ and Quetzalcoatl were
regarded as sub-creative spirits, who were either partly or wholly responsible for the
existence of the universe. Clavigero expressly states that the former was “the soul
of the world, the creator of heaven and earth and lord of all things.” 21 Mendieta, 22 a
much older authority, gives it as his opinion that the making and moulding of the
world was the handiwork of several gods, but especially of Tezcatlipocâ,
Uitzilopochtli, and an obscure deity, Ocelopuchtli, who equates with the ocelot
alluded to in Sahagun’s account.

Sahagun, it will be observed, disappoints us in his account of the creation, which he

confines to the details of the appearance of the sun and moon and is silent
concerning the creation of gods and men. This is strange when the facilities he had
for the collection of myths are considered, but as a priest, it is evident that he is
more interested in points of ritual than in religious narrative, which, he evidently
agrees with Curtin’s French-Canadian, is to be regarded as “chose d’absurde.” 23
Even although we possess the sonorous warning of Prescott and the objections of
others to bias us against Ixtlilxochitl, there is little ground for regarding his version of
the Mexican creation story as being other than he received it from sources which
would have been unspeakably precious had he made better use of them as regards
other subjects.

Regarding Ixtlilxochitl’s version of the creation myth, that the creator Tloque
Nahuague, the maker of the planets, brought into being a man and a woman from
whom all human beings are descended, we have no parallel in Mexican myth, nor,
indeed, in American myth, if we accept that of [48]the creation of man current in
ancient Peru, and it is probable that, so far as his version of the creation of
humanity is concerned, Ixtlilxochitl had encountered a myth which was either of
relatively late origin, or had arisen out of the ideas engendered by contact with
Christianity. This is, however, by no means to say that Ixtlilxochitl himself invented
the account. 24
[Contents]

THE HISTORIA DE LOS MEXICANOS

The Historia de los Mexicanos por sus Pinturas is a manuscript of such importance
to the study of Nahua Cosmogony that a short précis of its earlier chapters may,
perhaps, be found of value in this place.

“Tonacatecutli and his consort Tonacaciuatl, who had existed from the beginning,
resolved to undertake the work of creation. They had four sons, the eldest of whom
was Tlactlauque-Tezcatlipocâ, or Camaxtli. He was born of a red colour. The
second son, Yayanque-Tezcatlipocâ, was greater and more powerful than the rest.
He was born black. The third was Quetzalcoatl or Yacatecutli, and the fourth
Omitecilt, and for another name Magueycoatl, and the Mexicans called him Ochilobi
(Uitzilopochtli), for he was left-handed and was chief god to those of Mexico, and
their war-god. Of these four, Tezcatlipocâ was the wisest, was in all places, and
knew the hearts and thoughts of everyone. And for this he was called Moyocoya,
“he who is all-powerful, and who has all those things without which nothing can be.”
Uitzilopochtli was born without flesh, but with bones, 25 and in this state he remained
for six hundred years, during which time the gods made nothing.

“After six hundred years these four god-like brothers were born, and all came
together to order what was to be and the law that they should hold. They made a
half-sun in the midst, the other luminaries great and small, [49]and a man and
woman named Oxomuco and Cipactonal, commanding him to till the earth and her
to spin and weave. From these were born the maceguales or labourers. And to
Cipactonal the gods gave certain grains of maize that she might keep them and use
them for charms and riddles, and since that day women have used them for that
purpose.

“The gods then gave this pair the days of the calendar and divided them into
months, twenty days to each month, and three hundred and sixty days in the year.
Then they made Mictlantecutli and Mictecaciuatl, man and wife, to be the gods of
the infernal regions. Later they made the heavens and space and the water, and
then a great fish like the cayman, which is called cipactli, from which they shaped
the earth. In order to create the gods of water, all four gods joined together and
made Tlaloc and his wife Chalchihuitlicue.

“These gods of water have their place in the four quarters, and in the middle of it
was a great court, where there were four tubs of water. One water is very good, and
this rains when they grow grain and wheat. And these gods of water have many
dwarfish servants in the said house, and these have pitchers, with which they take
the water from the tubs, and sticks in the other hand. When the gods of water wish
them to go to the boundaries, they take the pitchers and sticks and sprinkle the
water as they are told. And when it thunders, they crack the pitchers with the sticks,
and when it lightens they break off a portion of the pitcher.

“All the aforesaid things had been made and created without taking any account of
the years, and without respect of time. The first man and woman had a son called
Piltzintecutli, who desired a wife with whom to live. So the gods made of the hairs of
Xochiquetzal a woman, and thus was the first marriage made. This having been
done, all the four gods saw that the half-sun which had been created gave but little
light. And they saw that they must make another half, because the existing light was
not able to illuminate the world.… Then Tezcatlipocâ became the sun-bearer. And
the gods created the giants, who were very [50]great men and of much strength.…
And they called the age in which Tezcatlipocâ was the sun the age of boasting and
of tigers, for the giants gorged and ate and wanted for nothing. And when thirteen
times fifty and two years were passed, Quetzalcoatl was the sun. Then Tezcatlipocâ
took a great stick and struck upon the water, and turning himself into a tiger, went
out to kill the giants. Afterwards he appeared in the sky, for they said that the ursa
major sank in the water, because it is Tezcatlipocâ.… During the time Quetzalcoatl
was the sun another count went on, which, having ended, Tezcatlipocâ cast out
Quetzalcoatl, who became the wind, which, when it blew on the maceguales, turned
them into monkeys and apes. And there was for sun Tlaloc, which lasted three
hundred and sixty-four years.… During these years Quetzalcoatl rained fire on the
sun, and then created as the sun his wife Chalchihuitlicue. She was the sun for
three hundred and twelve years.

“In the last year in which Chalchihuitlicue was the sun, it rained so heavily that all
the maceguales were turned into fishes. And when it had ceased to destroy, the
heavens fell upon the earth and the great rain began, the which year was tochtli.
And the gods ordered four roads to be made to the middle of the earth for them,
and raised the heavens, and to help them in holding them up they created four
men, called Cotemuc, Yzcoadt, Yzmali, and Tenesuchi, who were created by
Tezcatlipocâ and Quetzalcoatl. Then they made great trees, Tezcatlipocâ one which
was called tazcaquavlt, which is to say “tree of the mirror,” and Quetzalcoatl one
which was called queçalhuesuch, and with the help of the men they had made and
the trees the gods held up the heavens and the stars and made a road in the sky.
“After the heavens had been raised, in the second year after the flood, which was
acatl, Tezcatlipocâ pronounced his name, and there appeared the dumb Mixcoatl,
‘Serpent of the Clouds.’ And they paint him as a serpent. And they drew fire from
fire-sticks, which they called heart of the fire. In the seventh year after the flood was
born Cinteotl, the first son of the first man, who was a god, and [51]his wife a
goddess, and he was made of the hairs of the mother goddess, and it was said that
he was not able to die. And in the eighth year after the flood the gods created the
maceguales, like those that were before. When the first three years of this group of
years had passed, in the first of the next group all the four gods came together, and
said that because the earth had no light, and was dark, and that because there was
no fire, they would make a sun which would give light to the earth, and which would
eat hearts and drink blood. In order to do this they made war, by which they were
able to procure hearts and blood. In this time Tezcatlipocâ made four hundred men
and a hundred women, and on these the sun lived. In the tenth year, Suchicar, the
first wife of Piltzintecutli, the son of the first man, was killed in the war, and was the
first so to die.”

If we search for a common factor among these conflicting ideas, we will, indeed,
find the task one of difficulty. The nature of the sources from which we obtain them
does not permit us to arrange them chronologically, and all that we can found upon
in this respect is their subject-matter, which cannot enlighten us much. As has been
said, we are probably on safe ground if we accept the version of the several ages
hypothetically contained in the so-called Calendar Stone of Mexico. The
circumstance, too, that the sun and moon myth, as related by Olmos, agrees for the
most part with the version of Sahagun, permits us to regard it as a well-recognized
belief. Nor can the variant myth regarding the creation of mankind, which is briefly
described in an annotation, shake our confidence in the credibility of Olmos, as it
obviously differs more in the names of the actors in the drama of creation than in
the circumstances, which are almost identical. But if it is impossible to verify strictly
the place of origin of the Olmos myth, although Texcuco was claimed as its home, it
is permissible to indicate the universal character of that portion of it which deals
with the creation of the heavenly bodies, from its similarity to the analogous
passage in Sahagun’s rendering, which proves that that part of it at least must have
been more or less widely [52]disseminated throughout Mexico. We know that after
the collection of data in any district it was his custom to submit them to experts in
other and distant parts of the country for comparison and verification. We may thus
be justified in classing the Calendar-stone version of the world’s ages and the
Sahagun portion of the creation myth of the luminaries of the last age as among the
standard beliefs of Mexican theology. It follows from Sahagun’s general agreement
with the Olmos-Mendieta account that the portion of that version which he does not
treat of must naturally be within reasonable distance of exactitude. The
circumstance that both of these accounts relate the self-immolation of the gods by
the sacrificial method of having their breasts opened, seems to prove that the myth
was no older than the institution of human sacrifice, which we are perhaps correct
in regarding as of no very great antiquity, although arguments of sufficient cogency
might be brought against this view.

[Contents]

DELUGE MYTHS

As Mexican myths of the creation differ, so do those concerning the great deluge
which at one period was supposed to have overwhelmed the earth. As we have
seen, myths which are concerned with the several ages of the earth dwell upon
such an event, but separate myths exist which also tell of a great flood which is
almost certainly to be identified with the “Water-sun.” The goddess Chalchihuitlicue
(the goddess of water), says one of the interpreters of the Codex Telleriano-
Remensis, “saved herself in the deluge.” The interpreter of the Codex Vaticanus A.
relates that: “Most of the old people of Mexico say that a single man and a single
woman escaped from this deluge, from whom, in course of time, mankind
multiplied. The tree in which they saved themselves was called Ahuehuete (the fir-
tree), and they say that this deluge happened in the tenth sign, according to their
computation, which they represented by water, which on account of its clearness
they place in their calendar. They say that during the first age men ate no bread, but
only a certain kind of wild maize, [53]which they called atzitziutli. They name this first
age coniztal, which signifies the white head; others say that not only did these two
who were preserved in the tree escape, but that seven others remained hidden in a
certain cave, and that the deluge having passed away, they came forth and
restored the population of the earth, dispersing themselves over it: and that their
descendants in course of time worshipped them as gods, each in his own nation.”

A similar myth in the Anales de Quauhtitlan or Codex Chimalpopoca, is also worthy

of quotation.

“And this year was that of Ce-calli, and on the first day all was lost. The mountain
itself was submerged in the water and the water remained tranquil for fifty-two
springs.
“Now toward the close of the year, Titlacahuan (Tezcatlipocâ) had forewarned the
man named Nata and his wife Nena, saying: ‘Make no more pulque, but straightway
hollow out a large cypress, and enter it when in the month of Tozoztli the water shall
approach the sky.’ They entered it, and when Titlacahuan had closed the door he
said: ‘Thou shalt eat but a single ear of maize and thy wife but one also.’

“As soon as they had finished eating, they went forth and the water was tranquil; for
the log did not move any more; and opening it they saw many fish.

“Then they built a fire, rubbing together pieces of wood, and they roasted fish. The
gods Citlallinicuc and Citlallatonac, looking below, exclaimed: ‘Divine Lord, what
means that fire below? Why do they thus smoke the heavens?’

“Straightway descended Titlacahuan Tezcatlipocâ and commenced to scold, saying:

‘What is this fire doing here?’ And seizing the fishes he moulded their hinder parts
and changed their heads, and they were at once transformed into dogs.” 26

[Contents]

THE “COXCOX” FALLACY

It is unnecessary in this place to deal at any length with the quite artificial myth
given by Siguenza and Clavigero, [54]based on a mistaken interpretation of certain
Mexican paintings. Briefly, they state that Coxcox, “the Mexican Noah,” and his
spouse Xochiquetzal escaped from the deluge in a boat which grounded on the
peak of Colhuacan: “the Ararat of Mexico.” Dumb children were born to them, who
received innumerable languages from a polyglot dove. Garcia y Cubas published in
his Atlas Geografico a letter from Ramirez (April 1858) in which the then
conservator of the National Museum of Mexico showed the fallacy of Siguenza’s
interpretation and proved that the pictures in question referred to the wanderings of
the Aztecs in the Valley of Mexico.

A flood myth which has for its hero one of the giants who were supposed to inhabit
the earth in the first age (or rather the first age according to the version which is
supported by the Calendar-stone), states that Xelhua, the giant in question,
escaped the deluge by ascending the mountain of Tlaloc in the terrestrial paradise,
and afterwards built the pyramid of Cholula. The interpreter of the Codex Vaticanus
A says of this story: “In this first age giants existed in that country.… They relate of
one of the seven whom they mention as having escaped from the deluge, that, the
earth becoming populous, he went to Chululan and there began to build a tower
which is that of which the brick base is still visible. The name of that chief was
Xelhua; he built it in order that should a deluge come again he might escape to it.
Its base is 1,800 feet in circumference. When it had already reached a great height
lightning from heaven fell and destroyed it. Those Indians who were under that chief
who had escaped from the deluge, named Xelhua, made bricks out of a mountain in
Tlalamanalco called Cocotle, and from Tlalamanalco to Chulula Indians were
placed to pass the bricks and cement from hand to hand: and thus they built this
tower, that was named Tulan Chulula, which was so high that it appeared to reach
heaven. And being content, since it seemed to them that they had a place to
escape from the deluge if it should again happen, and from whence they might
ascend into heaven—[55]a chalcuitl, which is a precious stone, fell from thence and
struck it to the ground. Others say that the chalcuitl was in the shape of a toad; and
that whilst destroying the tower it reprimanded them, inquiring of them their reason
for wishing to ascend into heaven, since it was sufficient for them to see what was
on the earth. The base of the tower is at the present day still remaining and its
circumference is 1,800 feet.”

This myth has equivalents in the Hindoo story of the manner in which Hanuman,
king of the monkeys, built a bridge from India to Ceylon, and in Scottish legend,
where Corstorphine Church, near Edinburgh, is the scene of the building, the
stones being passed on from hand to hand by the “Picts” from Ravelston Quarry,
some considerable distance away. But it bears a more striking resemblance to the
story of the tower of Babel, the work of another being of gigantic origin—Nimrod.
Xelhua was the mythical ancestor of the people of Tehuacan, and Teotitlan del
Camino. It may be that his myth has been sophisticated by the priestly writers who
set it down, and in any case it seems to be ætiological or explanatory of the
Pyramid of Cholula.

[Contents]

THE FALL OF THE GODS

In the literature of ancient Mexican mythology we find persistent vestigial notices of

a fall of the gods, or rather of certain deities from “heaven.” Thus in the
interpretation of the Codex Telleriano-Remensis we find a divine locality called
Tamoanchan described as the “mansion” from which they fell, and “where they
gathered roses.” The same paragraph 27 relates that Tamoanchan “is the place
where these gods were created whom they feared: it signifies the Terrestrial
Paradise, and accordingly they relate that those gods being in that place
transgressed by plucking roses and branches from the trees, and that on this
account Tonacatecutli and his wife, Tonacacigua, became highly incensed, and cast
them out of that place, and that some of them came [56]to earth and others went to
hell.” One of these, the divinity most frequently associated by the Codices with this
event, Ixnextli, is spoken of in the same work 28 as “Eve, always weeping and
looking at her husband Adam. She is called Ixnextli, which signifies ‘Eyes blind with
ashes,’ and this refers to the time subsequent to her sinning by plucking the roses.”
In Codex Telleriano-Remensis (Plate VII, Kingsborough) she is associated with a
god Ueuecoyotl and is represented as kneeling on a chair with head averted. There
is no doubt that the name given her here, and which is supplemented by the name
Xochiquetzal, is that of a variant of the latter, who is the goddess of flowers.

In his interpretation of this goddess in his work on the Aubin-Goupil tonalamatl (pp.
118–119) Seler gives it as his opinion that the insignia of the goddess Tonacaciuatl,
consort of the creative deity Tonacatecutli, is identical with that of Xochiquetzal, and
proceeds to say that this strongly suggests “that the home of the cosmogonic
speculations embodied in the names of Tonacatecutli and Tonacaciuatl was to be
sought in the region where dwelt the goddess Xochiquetzal, and this was assuredly
not Mexico proper, but appears to have been the group which in one place is
comprised by Torquemada under the name Chalmeca, Olmeca, Xicalanca,
Tepaneca, Xochimilca, and Tlalhuica. Here by Chalmeca are to be understood the
dwellers about the volcano, and by Olmeca, Xicalanca, the aborigines of the
Tlaxcallan district.… Originally the goddess Xochiquetzal is perhaps nothing more
than the deity of one of those mountains from which the life-giving waters flow down
from the fields.” It is easy to believe that Xochiquetzal is a variant of Tonacaciuatl;
but it is not necessary to infer therefrom that the Olmec-Tlaxcaltec version of the
myth relating to her with its cosmogonic speculations was prior in origin to that
which found acceptance at Mexico, even although the Olmecs were regarded as an
older race. Tonacatecutli and his consort were believed to be Toltec deities, and had
thus a greater antiquity behind them than Olmec myth could invest them [57]with.
Codex Vaticanus A tells much the same story regarding Ixnextli and was probably
inspired from the same source.
[Contents]

MEXICAN CONCEPTIONS OF THE UNIVERSE

No definite account of the Mexican conception of the universe has come down to
us, but we are probably founding correctly if we accept the Maya belief as closely
approximating to that in general currency in Mexico. An examination of the central
design in the Maya Book of Chilan Balam of Mani, given in Cogolludo’s History of
Yucatan (1640), shows the earth as a cubical block, by which term it is practically
described in the Popol Vuh (“the quadrated castle, four-pointed, four-sided, four-
bordered”). This the Maya described as tem (“the altar”), that is, the altar of the
gods, the offering upon which was life. Above this cube on four legs is the celestial
vase (cum) containing the heavenly waters, rains, and showers, upon which all life
depends. Above it hang the rain-clouds which fill it and from it springs the vax che,
or Tree of Life, with outspread branches.

A similar illustration from the Codex Cortesiano, 29 a Maya MS. which has been
described as the “Tableau of the Bacabs” or heavenly supporters, shows the Tree
of Life, the Celestial Vase, and the cloud masses. Beneath the tree are seen the
two creative deities, and the whole design is surrounded by the twenty day-signs.

[Contents]

THE FIVE REGIONS OF THE WORLD

The Mexicans divided the universe into five regions. The locus classicus for the
representatives of the gods who preside over these regions is the first sheet of the
Codex Fejérváry-Mayer. The Fire-god occupies the centre of the picture, for just as
fire occupies a space in the middle of the primitive hut, so does Xiuhtecutli maintain
the central position in the universal disposition of things. From him four streams
[58]of sacrificial blood radiate in the direction of the four cardinal points, east, north,
west, south, 30 which are situated at each corner of the picture, for he rules over all
as well as over the centre, which is known as Tlalxicco. These bands of blood end
in the four day-signs—acatl, tecpatl, calli, and tochtli, from which alone the years of
the “calendar” or tonalamatl could be named, and which respectively agree with the
cardinal points noted above. The four sides of the square are also associated with
the four quarters of the universe. Thus the top square in the picture represents
Tlapcopa, Region of the Dawn (the East), the right-hand side Uitznauac, Place of
Thorns (the South), the bottom Ciutlampa, Region of Women (the West), and the
left-hand side Mictlampa, Place of the Dead (the North). Within these squares are
seen four species of trees, belonging to the four points of the compass. They
resemble the trees seen in sheet 49 of Codex Borgia and sheet 17 of Codex
Vaticanus B, from the first of which codices they can be more clearly described.

North.
 South.

THE TREES OF THE WORLD-QUARTERS.

(Codex Fejérváry-Mayer, sheet 1.)

The Tree of the East is represented as a highly conventionalized tree having two
boughs, each with four branches which end in the chalchihuitl (greenstone) symbol.
Round branches are twisted two ropes, green and blue in colour, set with golden
bells. A quetzal bird perches upon the top and the trunk is decorated with the
symbol for war, for the spirits of the sacrificed warriors were believed to dwell in the
eastern heavens, where the sun rose. The tree springs from the body of the Earth-
goddess, and the ornaments borne by it are symbolic of the rich and fruitful
character of the Orient.

The Tree of the North.—This tree is painted half-green, half-blue, but is set with
thorns in every part. Bands of blood and darkness issue from the body of the Earth-
goddess, in which it has its root, and these wind around its boughs. The eagle
stands upon the top, each of its plumes bristling with a sacrificial stone knife.

The Tree of the West.—This has a yellow star, and bears [59]the magic bloom at the
end of each branch. It is surmounted by the humming-bird, and its trunk is dotted
with the stellar eye, in this case the evening star.
East.
 West.

THE TREES OF THE WORLD-QUARTERS.

(Codex Fejérváry-Mayer, sheet 1.)

The Tree of the South.—This, too, is thorny, but painted red, and the trunk is
sprinkled with symbols recalling that of the “spoken word” which in the Codices is
frequently seen issuing from the mouths of gods and men. It may symbolize smoke
or fire, thus alluding to the fiery nature of the region to which the tree belongs. A
cloud of darkness and a stream of blood wind around the stem. It is surmounted by
the arara bird.

These four trees have parallels in Maya mythology, as, for example, on the altar-
pieces of the cross from Palenque (Temple II) and elsewhere.

The gods governing the five regions of the universe are 31:

Centre—Xiuhtecutli.
East—Mixcoatl and Tlaloc.
North—Itztli and Xochipilli.
West—Iztac Mixcoatl and Quetzalcoatl.
South—Macuilxochitl and Xipe.

We find from an examination of the codices that the Mexicans believed that the
“world” or universe was divided into:

Tlalxicco, the centre or “navel” of the Earth.

Tlapcopa, “the region of the Dawn” (the East).
Uitznauac, “Place of Thorns” (the South).
Ciuatlampa, “Region of Women” (the West).
Mictlampa, “Place of the Dead” (the North).

These several regions demand a brief description.

Tlalxicco was the dark interior of the earth, which was supposed to be inhabited by
an animal-headed god or demon, resembling a badger, to whom no name has as
yet been applied, but who seems to possess affinities with sorcery and the darker
arts. A good representation of him is to be found on sheet 9 of Codex Vaticanus B.

Tlapcopa, the East, or “Region of the Dawn,” was regarded [60]as a region of
prosperity, fertility, and abundant food-supplies. It was the house of the Sun, the
region where sacrificed warriors dwelt in bliss, and will be further described when
we come to deal with the subject of “heaven and hell.”

THE TREE OF THE MIDDLE-QUARTER.

Uitznauac or Uitzlampa, “Region of Thorns” (the South), was, as its name implied, a
place of rather evil omen, for it was sometimes thought of as inhabited by Mictlan,
Lord of the Dead. The Mexicans, dwelling in a plateau country where climatic
conditions were temperate, probably regarded the tropics to the south as a region
fatal to health, and generally insalubrious in character.

Ciuatlampa, “Region of Women” (the West), was the place to which those women
who died in their first childbed (Civapipiltin or Ciuateteô) went after death, and as
such falls to be described in the section on “heaven and hell.” But it was also the