Silence reigned supreme. A tongue of fire ran along the walls, casting lights and shadows on my Sisters’ beautiful faces. A flock of black butterflies circled through the air and alit on the throne, drawn by its power, but my eyes didn’t waver.

  Sophìa smiled, her expression radiant. As she stood, everyone held their breath. A black serpent slithered around her neck. Dakor, my instinct said. His incredible lapis lazuli eyes peered at me from close up, hypnotic. They were identical to Sophìa’s. She glanced at my crossbow and nodded, as though satisfied with my choice. All at once, her voice filled my head.

  “Naiad. I have waited so long for you, my little warrior.”

  “I am yours, my Empress,” I said resolutely, bowing my head.

  She slowly spread her arms and proclaimed, “May the ceremony begin!” A chorus of drums and shouts filled the room. “Come,” she said, holding my hand. “Take your place. It is time for you to unite with your Sisters.” She walked me to a throne next to hers. It was smaller but just as majestic. At its sides, two panthers bowed to me. There was something familiar about one of them . . . It must have been the color of its eyes—jade green. A moment later it changed form and I realized why I had had that sensation: it was Anya. I stared at her, amazed. The other panther also took on a human form, but I’d never seen her before.

  I sat on the throne and Sophìa took her place at my side. “Today is a great day,” she proclaimed as the crowd listened, ecstatic. Once again she wore a gown that appeared to be made of black butterflies, but the design was different, as if it were molding itself to her body. “After five hundred long years, one of our Sisters has awakened from Earth to join us. She has been given to us and we welcome her as blood of our blood, now and for eternity.” The crowd cheered and stamped their feet. “And now introduce yourselves, Sisters! Let us present Naiad’s new family to her.”

  Anya knelt before me. “She is Anya,” Sophìa said, “but I know you have already met her. She is loyal and wise. She will be a good Sister to you.”

  My new Sister stood. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in soft chestnut-brown curls with a contrasting blond streak that crossed through them like a shaft of light. She gazed at me for a moment, the serpent coiled around her arm peering at me with the same incredible green eyes, then kissed me on the lips. “Welcome,” she whispered before winking at me and stepping back. She stopped before the throne at the edge of a red symbol on the floor, the symbol that represented us. No one had explained that to me but somehow I knew it.

  “Devina. The first Sister . . . and my Specter,” Sophìa announced. “She has the spirit of a warrior and will guide you in your ascent.”

  Devina made a little bow without taking her eyes off mine and kissed me. Her kiss wasn’t tender like Anya’s, but electrifying and sensual. Her lips were painted red, the same color as her hair. Even her eyes seemed to be made of fire.

  Then came Bathsheeva, whom the Sisters simply called Sheeva. She had a long ponytail that reached her ankles, caramel-colored skin, and eyes of molten gold. She too knelt before me and kissed me on the lips to welcome me. Next was Zafirah—Safria to the Sisters. Her blue eyes with their hints of purple stood out against her black skin and crown of braided black hair. Kreeshna, also dark-skinned, had a long braid that hung over her shoulder. Zhora followed, with very short, bright, mahogany hair and emerald-green eyes that glowed like those of the Dakor wrapped around her wrist. Nerea was next. She had long blond hair with speckled tips and incredible yellow eyes; then Camelia, as sensual as a siren with her big gray eyes, fair skin, and pastel-pink hair that turned lilac at the tips. Last of all came Nausyka. Her hair was platinum blond and her blue eyes sparkled like pole stars. They each wore a lock of braided hair across their foreheads like a diadem. I counted nine of them, plus Sophìa and me. Though I’d never seen most of them before, I felt the strong connection uniting us. They were my Sisters and I was one of them. A Witch. Each had her own serpent, some coiled around arms, others around necks, still others around thighs.

  They stood there waiting until the Empress spoke again. “The time has come,” she announced solemnly. The entire audience knelt as Sophìa stood and offered me her hand. She led me to the center of the circle of Witches where the symbol was carved into the black stone. A maidservant appeared carrying a black chalice covered with a red silk cloth, which Sophìa removed. The Mizhya took it, bowed, and retreated, joining a long line of maidservants. The Witches’ serpents hissed. Only they stirred inside the hall. Everyone else held their breath.

  Sophìa approached Devina and offered her the chalice. As Devina looked at me, her eyes as ardent as fire, her serpent opened his jaws and bit her wrist, disappearing inside her. Her irises expanded like tentacles, filling the whites of her eyes, and her pupils lengthened. Devina held out her wrist and let a drop of her blood fall into Sophìa’s cup. Anya did the same, and all the other Sisters followed suit. When the last drop of blood had been offered, Sophìa came to me and handed me the cup. I took it and her serpent hissed, fixing his eyes on mine before opening his jaws, striking, and then slithering into his mistress. The Empress’s blue eyes glittered for a moment, becoming just like her Dakor’s, as her blood dripped into the cup, sizzling. “This is the blood of your Sisters,” she recited in an ancient tongue that I was able to understand. “Drink it and receive them inside you.”

  I raised the cup to my lips, looking at the Witches one by one. They looked back at me with respect and anticipation. I allowed their blood to flow onto my tongue and its aroma enraptured me down to my soul. The Mizhya returned and carried the cup away. My head was spinning.

  Sophìa took my wrist and slid her long black nails over my skin, cutting my palm. “Though everywhere he is forced to crawl, in this his realm he rules over all.” My heart was thumping and I felt like I’d taken a powerful drug. “Come to me,” Sophìa whispered.

  Then it happened. A serpent, like those of my Sisters, slowly emerged from my palm. He was black—completely black. I stood there staring at him as he slithered up my wrist. He hissed, gazing at me intently. His black eyes were streaked with violet and I instantly felt he was part of me.

  A murmur swept through the crowd.

  “Do you see that? It’s black.”

  “It can’t be . . .”

  “It’s just like the Empress’s . . .”

  They were right. My serpent wasn’t green, like my other Sisters’.

  Sophìa looked at me and smiled. “You are not only one of us,” she said, her voice solemn. “You are the thirteenth Witch and I have been awaiting you a long, long time.” She took my hand and raised it to her lips, kissing my bloody palm. “Offer your blood to the Sisterhood to seal the Bond.” I went around the circle of Witches and one by one they leaned in to drink from my palm. “It is time,” Sophìa announced.

  All the Witches, including the Empress, held hands, closing the circle around me. “Kaameh. Tika nun kàa. Saeth rith,” they chanted as one. The serpents crept out of their bodies as the prayer grew more rhythmic and intense. It was Kahatmunì, the Witches’ secret, ancient code. And I understood it.

  The Bond has now been consecrated and cannot be eradicated.

  “Kaameh. Tika nun kàa. Saeth rith.”

  “Kaameh. Tika nun kàa. Saeth rith.”

  All their Dakor came to me, slithering across the floor and encircling me. My serpent was excited, responding to their call. The crowd began to stamp their feet in a hypnotic rhythm, faster and faster.

  “Blossom, my little chrysalis.”

  Silence filled the room once more as my Dakor opened his jaws and sank his fangs into my wrist, penetrating me. The train of my dress exploded into a myriad of black butterflies and I threw back my head, overwhelmed by a mix of pain and pure pleasure. My eyes burned as he fused with me and the butterflies whirled around me. I felt his heart beat and synchronize with mine. I heard his hiss whisper inside my head and sensed his soul bond to mine. We were one.

  “You will have the strength of a panther. The shrewdness of a serpent. The grace of a butterfly,” Sophìa proclaimed.

  “She’s magnificent,” one of the Sisters was thinking.

  “A worthy warrior.”

  “I’ll teach her everything,” Devina added.

  “I must protect her,” Anya thought.

  They were inside my mind, all of them. I was a Witch. The transformation was complete.

  When the tingling stopped, I turned to look at Sophìa, who awaited me, beaming. She moved closer and pressed her lips to mine in a long, sensual kiss. “You are officially one of us now. Nothing can break our bond.”

  “Yes, my Empress.”

  The Witches cheered and lifted me onto their shoulders, letting out a battle cry. I smiled, letting their enthusiasm infect me. I remembered nothing about my past, but I was certain I’d never been so happy before.

  A NEW WORLD

  “Where are we going?” I asked them telepathically. The ceremony was over and the Witches were carrying me out of the Castle, tossing me into the air from time to time and letting out war whoops.

  “This is when the real party starts!” Devina told me.

  I could hear their every smallest thought. The voices of the other people present also filled my mind, and if I concentrated, I could make out one or another, but with the Witches it was different. Their voices were loud and clear, as if we were all a single, inseparable being.

  They led me to what looked like an amphitheater. There were already lots of people looking out from the balconies of the surrounding buildings, in the stands, in the center of the arena. Bare-chested men beat drums while others performed an acrobatic tribal dance that was crude and incredibly sexy. The Witches put me down and Devina rested her hand on my shoulder. “Here, try this.” She offered me a chalice containing a clear liquid and I gulped it down.

  My eyes went wide and my throat burned. “What is it?!” I exclaimed, but a second later the liquid warmed my stomach and spread through my entire body, causing a quiver of pleasure. I savored the sensation and longed for more.

  Devina smiled. “It’s poison. Something exquisite.”

  I looked around and saw that everyone was having fun. “It’s really strong!” I exclaimed, tipsy.

  “Cider is lethal, but not for us.”

  Beside me, a bare-chested man belted back the contents of a glass. “Not for them either, I see.”

  “What they’re drinking is different from ours. Small amounts of our blood filtered of its poison is a delight, if properly distilled.”

  “They’re drinking our blood?”

  “Only a few drops. There are certain Souls—Apothecaries—who are in great demand because they’re skilled at preparing a special blend. Here they call it Elixir. Our blood is the most powerful drug that has ever existed.”

  I watched the bare-chested men as they danced, feeling incredibly drawn to their good looks and virility. My Sister looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. “Wait till you see them in the Arena. There’s nothing sexier than two warriors battling to the death for you.”

  “Who are they?” I asked, curious.

  Devina laughed and took the cup from my hands. “Don’t overdo it your first time or you’ll get a headache. Those are Subterraneans,” she explained, bringing to my mind the distant memory of the young man with gray eyes.

  “I thought they were our enemies.”

  “Not here in the Castle. On Earth, the Children of Eve hinder our mission and must be stopped. Every Subterranean you see here, on the other hand, has chosen to subjugate himself to us.” Devina stopped beside one of the men and kissed him. He took her by the hips and squeezed her bottom, but she slid her finger down his neck and sank her nail in, leaving a line of blood. The Subterranean fell to his knees.

  “You can have as many as you want at your command. I’ll bring you the finest Soldiers from which to choose. It’s your party—tonight you should have company,” Devina promised.

  I looked at the Subterranean and smiled, arousal growing inside me. But something else she’d said had caught my attention. “What’s our mission?”

  “Souls,” she replied, a light in her eye. “There are many of them on Earth and the number continues to grow. Over the last century there’s been a dangerous decline in the perception of evil. Dangerous for them, naturally, not for us. Our task is to bring them here.”

  “How?”

  “With our power. It’s still early for you. First you’ll have to train. But when the time comes, you’ll feed off that power. You won’t be able to do without it. You’ll wonder how you ever managed to live without it.” I listened to her, fascinated. I wanted that day to come as soon as possible. “It will come,” she promised, reading my mind. “Meanwhile, let’s enjoy the party.” Devina picked up two cups of poison and offered me one. I smiled at her, drank the liquid in a single gulp, and let out a whoop.

  “There you are,” Sophìa exclaimed, coming over to us. Everyone bowed as she passed and so did I, but she stopped me, raising my chin. “Please, Naiad. This is your party. It is I who should bow to you. Your presence here brings me immense joy. It has been centuries since I was as excited over something as I am over your arrival.”

  “I am honored, my Empress.”

  Suddenly I couldn’t hear Devina’s thoughts any more. I looked in her direction, but she was still there, staring at Sophìa. With a cross expression, she turned and walked away.

  “Where is she going?” I asked, but no one replied.

  “Come. I wish to give you a gift,” Sophìa said.

  I followed her across the courtyard, through the crowd. I recognized two of my Sisters, Zhora and Sheeva, who were battling some Mizhyas. A small circle had gathered around them. I felt a strong urge to join them, and Sophìa smiled.

  “You will have much time to fight. Soon your training will begin. I am certain you will prove to be an excellent warrior. The strength of your soul is extraordinary. Never before had I seen a fire like yours in a mortal.”

  “Are the maidservants mortal?” I asked. My eyes could see their strength, but my spirit detected their weakness. Not even the Subterraneans were as strong as us—at least the ones there at the Castle—yet I had perceived in them the flame of immortality.

  “Mizhyas are nothing but Damned Souls brought in to serve us.”

  Just then, Sheeva slit one of their throats and the crowd cheered. Black liquid gushed from the wound until she fell to the ground and disappeared in a cloud of dust. “We train them to fight for our entertainment, but none of them last long. Nevertheless, they are happy to serve us. Being with us is a fine way to go. Outside our walls it is true ‘Hell’ for them compared to this.” Sophìa smiled, her blue eyes glittering in the twilight.

  Her words piqued my interest. “When may I leave the Castle?”

  “Whenever you like. That is why we are here.”

  “May I ask a question?”

  “There is no need. I already know what you wish to ask.”

  I frowned. I felt the need to ask her out loud. “During the ceremony you said I was the thirteenth Witch, but there were only eleven Sisters, counting you and me. Where are the other two?”

  Sophìa looked at me, deep sorrow clouding her eyes. All at once her voice filled my mind: “In the past we lost two Sisters and the pain over their loss still flows strong in the blood of each of us.”

  “What were their names?”

  “Tamaya and . . . Ginevra.” The names echoed in my mind. I didn’t know them, but somehow I felt the pain in my heart as well.

  “We have arrived. After you,” Sophìa said, this time aloud. We’d reached the top of a tall tower that rose up, challenging the sky. I stepped out onto its broad terrace and the crisp air hit me. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I felt so free . . . and happy.

  A whinny drew my attention. I looked around and for the first time noticed there were covered stalls on the roof of the circular tower. Yes, now I could hear it: their breathing. There were creatures inside the stalls and they had to be enormous.

  “Where are we?” I asked, surprised.

  “The stables. This is where you are to receive your gift, a Saurus.”

  A chorus of whinnies filled the twilight as, all around us, magnificent steeds spread their wings and bowed to the Empress. Excitement filled my chest. “These Sauruses belong to your Sisters, but tonight a new creature will rise from the darkness to serve you . . . and protect you.”

  One of them whinnied and pawed the ground, awakening in me the desire to move closer. I stroked his nose and he relaxed. He was majestic, strong, and graceful—a perfect warrior of the shadows.

  Argas. The name burst into my thoughts. I didn’t know where it had come from, but suddenly I was sure it was his. “Argas,” I whispered, following my instinct. He whinnied and nuzzled me. “I want him,” I said, resolute. It was a selfish thought. The creature belonged to one of my Sisters, but I didn’t care. I felt a deep connection to him the second I touched him.

  “So be it,” Sophìa granted.

  “I’m willing to fight for him.” A fire burned in me: the yearning to excel, even at my Sisters’ expense.

  Sophìa smiled. “That will not be necessary . . . this time. He lost his Witch centuries ago.” I stroked his coat. It was soft, though it looked as hard as armor. Argas rubbed his head against me, tickling me. “It would seem that it is he who has chosen you. Here.” She tossed something to me and I caught it. It was a small whistle made of carbonado. It was old, and one end of it was chipped, but I loved it. I stroked it, wondering what its story was.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. “It’s the most beautiful gift you could have given me. Along with the rest, naturally.”