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“Why do you need her here?” asked Damien looking at the priest.
“It would be easier for her to learn from me that waste time back and forth-”
“We have lots of time. Do you have time, Father Antonio?” asked Damien, his head tilting to the side when he posed the question to the priest.
“Okay, then. She can come here from tomorrow-”
“Make it next week,” Damien cut in without an argument, “She is still in the process of healing.”
Father Antonio had been curious about how she had received the bruises and if it were this man’s doing as pureblooded vampires were harsh when it came to treating humans or the white witches.
“I have some ointments that might help with the pain on your back,” on the priest’s words, Penny looked taken aback to think that he knew about her wounded back. The man appeared to be quiet but she could tell that he was a knowledgeable one. The way his eyes looked at her through his round glasses which were clean, “Guidance will be handed down to you but it is you who should thrive and work to achieve what you came looking for here,” he said looking at her, “Give me a moment,” he said getting up and stepping out of the room to leave them alone in the candle litted room.
“Do you think it will help me?” asked Penny, her voice doubtful.
“May or may not be,” answered Damien, “I am no white witch but if there’s someone we can trust a little in the circle of the witches, he might be the best shot. And you need someone to tell how things work. Who knows, it might eventually help you to open up the parts of your mind which have been locked for some years now.”
“Why did you pause me?”
“I did?” he c.o.c.ked his head in question.
“When I was speaking to him, you placed your hand on my thigh,” she said to receive a grin mischievously.
“I couldn’t resist not putting my hands on you, especially with this dim light and warm atmosphere, it turns one’s mood unable to stay away from their loved ones,” Penny’s cheeks instantly turned red over his words, “I have to say, as much as you look lean you have some really good meat on your body. Even the last time I hugged you, I could feel the softness-”
“This is a church, Master Damien,” Penny reminded the pureblooded vampire who leaned close to her. He leaned forward for her to see the reflection of the fire in his eyes.
“Are you saying that you would be okay if this weren’t a church. If I ran my hands over your soft skin, gliding them softly or roughly to hear you gasp and m.o.a.n under me?” his voice turned husky at the end making her shiver and her head dizzy.
Completely embarrassed by his words, she asked, “Have you no shame-”
“I thought we already established on this that I don’t,” his red eyes looking at her challengingly. You considering it to be a holy place makes it only so much more exciting for me to want to have you,” before he could speak further, father Antonio returned back to the room to where ever he had been. Carrying a little box in his hand, he handed it to her for her to take.
“This is made of herbs which are specifically made for witches. I hope it can help,” said the priest, his eyes darting to the man and the lady who was seated at the table.
Seeing the way they were seated since the time he had left the room to return back to find them sitting close, he could see the romantic notion in there. Not to forget the way Damien Quinn looked at her and him.
Father Antonio didn’t have to guess the kind of relation the girl and the pureblooded vampire were in. Damien Quinn was one of the peculiar characters in the land of Bonelake or maybe the rest of the other three lands too. Cousin of Lord Alexander Dlecrov, Damien was nothing like his cousin. While Alexander was the quieter and brooding type, Damien liked to live his life by throwing arrows of sarcasm at people while turning them embarrassed.
Poor soul, thought father Antonio.
He did find it strange though. Not the relationship that was brewing between them as there were some cases where the vampires were involved with the witches. Be it white witch or the black witches they fell in love with the lack of knowledge of who they were.
It was what she said about her elemental ability earlier.
Like many information which was lost in time, forgotten or made to be forgotten in a way so that it would never come to be used on anyone, a lot of white witches weren’t aware of their elemental. The concept didn’t exist to them which left a majority of them ignorant to it. An acknowledgment of the elements was when the witch wanted to know what ability they belonged to. Each white witch belonged to one element and after the ritual which was often performed by the black witches, it was to be taken granted that the bearer would arrive.
The elemental bearer carried the gift which was to be bestowed on the individual. It was strange that the water bearer had come for her to only tell she wasn’t one. Did something happen that had the ability to change?
Walking back to the chapel from where they had come, Penelope saw the girl who had previously come to speak to the witcher. Her hair brown in color which was the length of her shoulders. She stood with a medium-sized box in her hands which was a red box that looked heavy with the way she held it in her hands.
“Oh, that’s good! You did find it,” exclaimed father Antonio at the sight of the box. Turning to look at Damien, he said, “There was an extra case of bullets which Jera made by substituting some of the components and compounds to have a better output than what the silver bullets do. Open the box,” and the girl opened the box on the priest’s word.
