Blood Ties

The ceremonial chalice slipped from my fingers, crashing against marble floors. Blood residue splattered across my white dress as power surged through my veins – Valentina's veins. The room spun, faces blurring into a web of dark intentions that hit me like physical blows.

"Steady yourself, my love." Nicolas's hands gripped my waist, his touch sending jolts through my heightened senses.

"I'm fine," I managed, even as his thoughts crashed into mine-suspicion, concern, love for a woman who no longer existed.

"You're not fine." His voice dropped lower. "You haven't been fine since you woke up."

Adrian's approach cut off my response, Elena's stilettos clicking beside him. Their combined malice nearly brought me to my knees.

"Quite a spectacle, dear sister." Elena's perfectly painted lips curved. "The blood oath seems to have affected you. unusually."

"Perhaps she's overwhelmed." Adrian's hand rested on his concealed weapon. "Family ceremonies can be so. emotionally charged."

A server brushed past, his sleeve catching mine. Paper crinkled against my palm as he whispered, "Dr. Martinez. Danger. Now."

"Excuse me." I pulled back from Nicolas, my improved senses already tuning into the danger. "I need air."

"I'll join you." Nicolas's voice brooked no argument.

"Always so protective." Elena's laughter held venom. "But can you protect her from herself?"

I ran through marble halls, Nicolas matching my stride. Security feeds flickered in my mind – armed men closing in on Dr. Martinez's clinic. The twins, a glowing presence, their eyes blazing with otherworldly awareness warning the doctor seconds before the glass shattered.

"The clinic." I pulled at Nicolas's arm. "Dr. Martinez—"

"Already handled." His gaze darkened. "How did you know?"

"I—

"Valentina." He backed me against the wall, caging me with his arms. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nicolas!" My father's voice saved me. "A word with my old friend?"

Nicolas's jaw tightened, but he stepped back. "Of course, Don Romano."

My father led me to his study, wood-paneled walls closing in as he spread a map across his desk. Red marks circled Nicolas's territory like blood drops.

"Nice ceremony." He traced the borders. "Blood oaths have such. power. They reveal true intentions, wouldn't you agree?"

"What do you want?"

"Want?" He smiled. "I want what any father wants. The best for his daughters."

My heart stopped. "Daughters?"

"Oh, didn't you know?" He pulled out an old photograph. "Your mother – Valentina's mother–she was quite something. We were young, foolish. She died before I could make things right."

The world tilted. Valentina – my half-sister. The body I was in.

"Nicolas is a problem." My father's voice went hard. "He's too powerful, too independent. But you, my dear, you could control his territory after his. unfortunate accident."

I fought to keep my voice steady. "You're planning to kill him."

"Planning?" He laughed. "It's already in motion."

I fled the study, running down shadowy corridors until I located the hidden communications room. Electronics sparked when my powers surged, but I got the warning out to Dr. Martinez's team.

The library doors creaked while I frantically dug through ancient ledgers. The true parentage of Valentina stared back in the faded ink-my father's signature on her birth certificate.

"Finding anything interesting?"

I whirled to face Elena. The temperature dropped as she stepped out of darkness.

"You know," she said, circling slowly, "Valentina was never less than too curious for her own good. Much like poor Isabella."

"What do you know about Isabella?"

"I know she died badly." Elena's smile was cold. "I know she prayed to Santa Muerte for revenge. And I know-" she leaned close, "-that dead women shouldn't wear living flesh."

A portrait crashed behind me as my powers flared. Behind the walls, I felt Nicolas in the gardens, studying the photographs of Valentina's movements before my possession.

I ran upstairs to find my old bedroom converted into a shrine. The altar of Santa Muerte was the centerpiece, black candles flaring to life as I entered. The mirrors reflected impossible angles as a voice, one I knew, whispered:

"Blood recognizes blood, my child." Cold settled over me. "But not all family ties are meant to bind."

A raven slammed against the window, the force of its impact like the sharp crack of gunfire. Elena's footsteps came closer as the visions overpowered me-past, present, and blood-stained futures converging in my head.

The 200-day bargain ticked away, each second edging me closer to salvation or damnation. Somewhere in the mansion, Nicolas pieced together the truth about the woman wearing his wife's face.