Callie moaned, cracking open her eyelids a mere fraction to assess her surroundings. Seeing and hearing nothing but silence in the darkness, she pushed herself to sit upright. She felt the smooth, albeit dusty, finish of the floor beneath her hand. She frowned, trying to remember where she was. Burning erupted in her throat, the thirst for blood taking her senses to that of a predator; she could smell a human within striking distance. Moving stealthily on her hands and knees toward the intoxicating scent, she neared, hearing the soft breaths of her prey. Its silhouette lay curled in bal. The beat of its heart - bum-bump, bum-bump, bum-bump.

Her teeth lengthened of their own accord, saliva dripped from her lips. She lowered her head toward its neck, inhaling the sweet tang of its life force flowing in steady rhythm beneath the surface of its skin. Her lips met the fragrant flesh, parting to allow her fangs access. They sank deep through skin, skimming the corded muscle and into the vein. Sweet, syrupy, warm goodness burst into her mouth causing a euphoria of sensations on her tongue. Her taste buds danced as it pulsed over them and down her throat.

A soft feminine moan of pleasure met her ears and jerked her back to awareness. She pulled back, licking the last drops of blood from the wound she had created, and looked at the girl lying beneath her for the first time since she awoke.

"Oh shit, Irene. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't know what I was doing." She panicked, guilt washing over her.

Irene lay still; her head tilted to the side exposing her neck. Callie shook her by her shoulders trying to wake her from her stupor. Irene's eyes remained wide, staring at nothing. Callie shook her again until Irene blinked a few times. Her dazed look gave way to a frown. She moaned again and struggled to sit up.

Callie tried to help but Irene shook her off. "Don't touch me," she whispered.

"Please Irene, I'm really sorry. I woke up and I just couldn't control it. Please...please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you... I think... I'm just embarrassed because I liked it too much," Irene confessed, the blush visible even in the darkness of the hallway.

"It's the saliva, it makes you feel good. Better than drugs apparently, at least that's what Sidney said."

Irene blushed even more. "I wouldn't know."

"Do you feel okay now? Can you stand?"

Lucien coughed from the entrance to the tunnel, making his presence known. Both girls spun to glare at him. "I've only just got back and I assume from what I just heard that I missed all the action."

"Lucien!" Callie shrieked, racing to hug him. "Thank you! Thank you for coming for us."

"For you, anything," he breathed into her ear. He wore a genuine smile, the first in such a very long time. He unclasped her arms from his neck and brushed his lips to her cheek as he pulled away. "I must get back. There is a particular soul in need of some serious torture. You're back in the basement of the Academy. The demon who lured you into the underworld is gone and will not be returning to lure anymore unfortunates to their deaths. Please advise the witch who drew the favour from him that her debt has been settled. I will be closing the entrance as I leave... Call me soon?" He blew Callie a kiss and shooed them up the hallway. The wall reconstructed itself to block the steps.

"That was the demon?" Irene gasped in shock. "He didn't look like the demon you described to us."

"I know, but yes that's the demon we're going to make mortal again when we find the grimoire - if we find the grimoire."

Purple, red, orange and yellow set the sky aflame with the first rays of the morning sun visible through the windows at the front entrance of the Academy. It filled the entrance hall with welcoming light. Irene dug out her phone to call Rachael. A trill rang out, interrupting the silence and they spun to see a body scrambling upright from its slumber on the padded bench. Rachael adjusted her glasses and straightened her blouse as she rose and crossed the foyer to meet them.

"Was the deal you made with the demon worth the innocent lives it cost?" Irene demanded.

Rachael looked shocked. "How did you..." she began, then shook her head. "No." She bowed her head in shame. "He tricked me and I was young and foolish enough to let him."

"We have been told to inform you that your debt has been paid and the demon won't return. The entrance has been sealed."

"Thank you," Rachael gushed. Years of pent-up desperation sent her to her knees at the feet of the two girls. "How can I ever repay you?"

"It's not us you need to thank, but if you know the whereabouts of the witch Habondia's grimoire it would go some way to even the score," Callie stated.

"I'm afraid Habondia's Book of Shadows was destroyed by fire many years ago when it with Natural History Museum. I do have something in my personal collection at home that may be of help though," she offered. "Habondia had an apprentice for a great many years and she kept a very detailed diary of their time spent in servitude to the witch."

"We'll go back to the B&B for breakfast and freshen up, then come by your place around 11am if that suits?"

"Yes, that fine. It'll give me time to dig it out. Here, I'll write the address down for you." She found a scrap of paper on the reception desk and scribbled on it. "You have saved so many young lives. I'm in your debt." She squeezed Callie's hand as she placed the slip of paper into it.

At 10:57am Callie's pink mini pulled into the driveway of a small cottage. Callie, slurping the last drops from her juice bag, and Irene washing the last bite of her McD's breakfast down with banana milkshake, got out and crossed the pink pea-gravel path leading to the door. They had to step over and around herbs growing wild and untended from the beds surrounding the cottage. A grey-haired, wizened, old woman greeted them at the door dressed in a flowing multi-coloured robe that reached her ankles.

She pushed her square-rimmed glasses up onto her nose in a familiar gesture. "Come in please, I've found the diary but it's in a worse state than I thought." The old woman beckoned them inside, indicating the plump sofa that took up most of the sitting room.

"Rachael?" Irene asked staring at the woman as she turned to leave the room.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm sorry, and I know I'm staring, but weren't you like, a lot younger a couple of hours ago?"

Rachael touched her face and caught her reflection in the mirror hanging over the fireplace. "Oh!" she gasped, staring at the old woman reflected there. Her hands moved frantically across her face, feeling the wrinkles and sagging skin that appeared. She aged even more as she watched in horrified fascination as the last sparks of life faded from her eyes. "It looks like the illusion died with the demon I made the bargain with... I don't have much time... the diary... is on shelf ... spare bed..room," she managed to choke out before collapsing on the floor.

The skin on her face began to shrivel and dry, her eyes sinking into their sockets. The flesh on her hands dried up rapidly. Within a matter of moments, there was a little poof and a cloud of dust rose from the floor where her body had lain - her robe and glasses the only thing left to signify Rachael had even been there.

Callie covered her mouth with the sleeve of her jumper to avoid inhaling the witch's remains while Irene gathered the dustpan from beside the fireplace.

She gently swept up what she could. "When I hold the dust in the air light it on fire just like we did at your ceremony." When the ashes fell into the dustpan, Irene took it outside and tossed the ashes to the wind "Peace sister," she whispered.

A veritable treasure trove of witch paraphernalia awaited them in the small bedroom. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves full of ancient grimoires and diaries. The centre of the room held a tall bookstand with an ancient book resting open on top of it. As they moved closer the book suddenly snapped shut making them jump. It glowed brightly for a brief second then fell to the floor coming to rest at Irene's feet. Callie bent to pick it up but it slid a few inches out of her grasp. She tried again, and again it moved out of reach.

"You try," she told a giggling Irene.

Irene knelt and brushed her hand along the spine, feeling the ancient leather that bound the pages within. She picked it up and opened it to the first page.

"It's blank," Callie stated with surprise.

"No. It hides its magic from anyone it feels is not meant to have it. I can feel the lure of it. It's very powerful and needs to be protected. If this fell into the wrong hands it could be disastrous." Irene clutched it to her chest as if hiding it from view. "Rachael used it for her own gain and has paid the price for her greed."

"Then I guess we're taking it with us too, seeing as it's picked you as its new guardian." Callie glanced around the room and spotted an old tattered book lying on top of the nearest shelf. She picked it up to read the first few entries. The diary mentioned the writer's excitement at being asked to serve Habondia and her exhilaration at being accepted as her apprentice. "I've got the diary. Are there any others you think we should take?"

"I'm actually thinking that we should let the school know about Rachael and her hoard. They can keep an eye on the rest of it. There's a lot of power in this room."

They travelled back to the Academy and this time the strange mist seemed to part before them, making their journey quicker. The eerie feeling Callie felt on their first trip along this road was also absent.

The same small man came bounding down the steps. "Ah, back again I see. How may I assist this time?"

"We urgently need to speak to the head teacher," Irene replied. When he made no move to help, she brushed by him, racing up the steps into the foyer.

The first door on the right said PRINCIPAL and she made straight for it, striding in without knocking.

A man of around sixty - a little portly around his middle but not excessively so - stood up from behind a desk so quickly his seat toppled over behind him.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Sorry, but it's really important that we speak to the head teacher," Irene stated.

"It's fine Bob," he said to the small man who had chased after her. He indicated for the girls to sit. "Close the door after you." He righted his seat and sat down, placing his hands with his fingers interlocked on top of the desk. "Now tell me what has you in such a tizzy, ladies?"

It took them close to an hour to recap the tale of the demon and Rachael's involvement in the disappearances of so many students in the last century. He was shocked at the news and agreed that the diaries and grimoires in Rachael's possession should be removed from the cottage and stored securely. It took them another hour to explain how and what they were looking for in the archives in the first place.

"I have a proposition for you Irene. I would like you to come and study here full time. You can study the craft and help with the protection of the archives. You are obviously trustworthy - the Ancient Book of Shadows has already chosen you as its new keeper and that's the best reference for the job. What do you say?"

She looked at Callie as she answered, "I'd like the chance to learn more. Grandma could only teach us what she knew and I can learn so much more here. I think I should stay."

Callie flung her arms around her friend and hugged her close. "I'm going to miss you so much, but this is your choice. If you change your mind at any time, you'll always have a home with us. And for pity sakes I want a phone call at least once a week." She continued in a whisper for Irene's ears only, "I'm sorry I bit you. Please don't let it influence your decision."

Irene laughed and blushed scarlet. "If that were the case, I'd be leaving with you."

Callie wiped the tears from her eyes in order to see the road. She promised Sam she'd go back to him before she went hunting for more clues. Besides, she thought, with Adie leaving to go to Colorado, and now Irene staying here, I'm a little lonely.