The Ancients by Rena Wilson

ceremonial blade.  “It is time; your combined blood will allow the Ancients to rise at full strength.”
                  I keep my eyes close and quickly unweave the spell around my mark.  I instantly feel lighter, like Samara’s spell holding me down was not strong enough to stop me. 
                  “What are you doing?  Rise!” Samara yells, grabbing my arm roughly pulling me to stand.  "It is already working.  Can you see them moving?  Once they have your blood it will done."
                  She holds the knife close to me, "I don't think I can let you do that."
                  The crazy woman holding me laughs, "You don't have the strength to resist me."
                  "That is where you are wrong," I push her away from me with all the power the Goddess gifted. 
                  "Blood," I hear a hiss from one the bodies.  "Blood."
                  I turn back to where Samara lays and am confused as to why she is laughing, "Fool!  It is too late.  Weynard rises seeking your blood.  My Lord, it is done!" With those words she continues to laugh and smile like the crazy person she is.
                  Power emanates around me as one of the bodies rises.  The sheet covering him falls the grass as he takes a deep breath.  His skin his pale and he is taunt with the lack of nourishment.  "Sammy?"
                  She stops her crazy person imitation, "It is I, my Lord."
                  He catches sight of me and smiles showing sharp elongated fangs, "This is her?"
                  "Yes, my Lord, the witch and the animal.  With her blood you will return to your former glory," Samara bows.
                  "Come here, girl," his voice is like nails on a chalk board and the compulsion to move is great.
                  You are stronger than him, my child.  Take what I give you.
                  The Goddess' voice comforts me as I finally risk looking into the creatures eyes.  "No."
                  Weynard seems to weigh my answer, "I don't believe anyone has ever said that to me before and ended up still alive."
                  "I will not allow you to drag our world down!" I yell.  "By the Goddess, I will stop you and send you back from where you came."
                  "So passionate," he begins.  "Your Goddess is strong within you, but you are no match for me, girl."  He starts to move towards me, never breaking eye contact.
                  I gather as much of the Goddess' power as I can and begin to channel it all around me.  "The witches motto it is, to harm none shall we, the wolves motto it is, to protect all shall we, by the blending of my soul, the hybrids motto it is, do what is right shall I, destroy if I must, heal if it is earned, and banish those who mean harm, so mote it be, so mote it be, so mote it be, by the will of the Goddess of three."
                  As the last words left my mouth, Weynard grabbed me by the throat.  "My servant is correct, you are a fool.  And now I will taste that sweet nectar of life flowing through you."
                  His fangs pierced my skin, but as soon as he tried take a sip, blinding white light shot from my hands into his chest.  "You do not get to take, that which is not offered willingly," I whisper in his ear as he stumbles away from me.  "Weynard, creature of Osiris, never shall you harm again."  The power of the Goddess flows through my arms and out towards the Ancient.  It causes his body to erupt in flames as he wails to Samara.
                  The young woman is stunned at what is happening. "No, no, this cannot be happening," she says as she rushes to his side.  She turns her hard stare to me, "This isn't over."  She begins to chant holding her amulet around her neck and then they are