7: Witchlings
Liam’s apartment wasn’t what I expected. From his car, I thought his apartment would be closer to a luxury condominium, but it was more of a modern bachelor pad. Ordinarily, I would not follow an infuriating male I barely knew into his apartment, but I felt compelled to see to his injuries. Maye would have been disappointed if I dropped Liam off without being completely sure he was taken care of. After all, being part of a family meant that you were partially responsible for their actions.
Witches rarely kept similar first aid kits to ordinary people, but Liam produced one from his bathroom. That surprised me. I would have offered to perform what little healing I could, but with my powers in turmoil he was better off with the first aid kit. Throughout the drive Liam continued to bait me with his remarks, which bothered me until I realized that his teasing was flirting. Flirting was a new concept to me. I tended to give people the cold shoulder and it made people keep their distance. In Liam’s case, he seemed to be enjoying my annoyance and found my icy personality to be amusing.
“Why do you have a first aid kit if you are a witch?” He winced as I applied the hydrogen peroxide to his split eyebrow, and then lifted one side of his mouth to smile.
“Is there a problem with owning a kit?”
“No, it’s just unusual. Wouldn’t it just be easier to have another witch heal you?” I leaned in to blow on his cut to soothe the pain.
“Do you see any other witches that live with me?” He mockingly glanced around. “It’s just easier to take care of my injuries myself, rather than going to my coven whenever I get a scrape.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense, but why don’t you live with your coven?” A coven was like a family, but with ties that exist on a higher plane. I couldn’t imagine leaving the Meadow Falls coven.
“My coven isn’t like yours. My mother is the high priestess and she is more concerned with politics than she is with personal relations.”
LIAM
Savannah patched me up and listened to my stories about the members of my coven. It didn’t take long for me to realize that she wasn’t like the women I knew. Whenever I tried to tease her she pulled away. Her company was enjoyable in an awkward way. She didn’t like to be touched, but had no issues with initiating the touching. She liked to be in control and seemed unused to attention. In the car she was frigid towards me, but that changed once I started talking to her as a friend. Our conversation went from forced to natural.
I managed to convince her to stay for dinner and I cooked a stir fry. She seemed genuinely surprised that I knew how to cook. I managed to find some left over ice cream for dessert. I told her that my coven was a dark one and she looked at me in horror with her mouth paused halfway through eating.
“I think I better leave.” Her spoon dropped to the bowl and she stood quickly almost toppling over her chair in the process.
“What’s wrong?” My hand wrapped around her upper arm. I watched as her skin blazed to burn my hand. I tore it away to find blisters spreading across my palm. Her skin faded from a fiery color to her natural ivory tone.
“Don’t touch me.” Her eyes were wild. “I don’t like your kind. To think, I was starting to second guess my first impressions of you! I’m leaving now.” She grasped the door handle and pulled, but it didn’t budge. Shaking it some more she grew frustrated turning to stare at me, as if blaming me for the door being stuck.
“The door is warped. It gets stuck sometimes. What do you mean by my kind?”
After an exasperated sound escaped her lips, she turned to face me with her arms crossed. “I mean a witch like my parents. A witch who practices the dark arts.”
Silence echoed off the walls, while I processed her prejudiced comment. I knew about her parents. Everyone in my coven knew about them. There were dark witches and then there were dark witches. Savannah’s parents were the worst sort. I would rather be torn to pieces by a pack of wolves than been a victim of theirs.
I cleared my throat. “I’m not a witch like your parents. I may practice the dark arts, but I am not into killing and torturing.”
When silence met my comment, I continued. “Look, you know about dark and light witches, right?” She nodded. “Okay, well I am a dark witch, but that means that I am fine with using magic for personal gain. More importantly, I believe in using my magic as protection in a fight. If some jerk attacks me, I believe that it’s fine to tap into my gift to protect myself. White witches won’t perform magic that would harm someone even if it means that they die. It’s a matter of personal preference. Your parents on the other hand, were technically dark witches. However, my coven did not condone their actions any more than yours did.”
“What do you mean my parents were a different type of dark witch?” The anger had evaporated and now Savannah looked confused.
“Take ordinary humans for example. If a saint were a witch, they would practice the whitest shade of magic. If murderers were witches, they would practice magic so dark that it would literally be the absence of color. Then there are ordinary people. Some lie, some cheat, others just go through their day and try not to hurt anyone. Those people would be white and black witches, but on the spectrum of color they would be different shades of gray.”
“So what you’re saying is that you are a darker gray than me?” Her brows crinkled and she relaxed against the door.
“Yes. I’m not like your parents, okay?” I moved forward to brace my arms on either side of her. She tried to avoid my stare.
“Sorry I burned you. I’m close to my ascension. It happened without me trying to.” She grabbed my hand to examine it and looked up with tears in her eyes. “I don’t like to hurt anyone. I…I don’t want to be like them, ever.” Her hair fell into her face, as she bent to kiss my palm. When she looked up she seemed embarrassed.
“Hurting me on accident does not make you like your parents. Sometimes accidents happen and with you this close to your ascension it’s natural.” I smoothed my thumb across her lower lip and it quivered in response. Her pupils widened. “I admire you for turning out the way you have. Had they been my parents I don’t know if I would have had the strength to fight.”
“Ash and Maye are the only reason I’m not like my parents, if it wasn’t for them…” My pointer finger pressed against her lips to silence her.
“Ash and Maye gave you a choice. What you did with your choice was entirely up to you.” I whispered the last word into her ear.
The feeling from earlier was back again. It was like a pressure building in the pit of my stomach, pushing me to merge with her. Her body language changed suddenly and I knew she could feel it too. The air around are bodies was charged like electricity and I could see our auras merge to blend together. Our senses heightened to an almost painful intensity until I touched her again. With our skin touching the pain gave way to waves of pure ecstasy. I leaned in to graze my lips against the tip of her nose and her breathing changed to a slight whimper. Her hands touched my abs and moved upwards to grasp the fabric of my shirt that lay over my chest. She pulled me closer.
Her face tipped up and I captured her lips. Her body relaxed into mine and she pulled my neck down for better access to my lips. She was inexperienced, but she kissed with a fervor that made up for that. Her lips parted and I took the chance to slip my tongue into her mouth. She gasped at the invasion, but when I kissed her more gently she began to hesitantly explore my mouth. Her tongue twisted around mine in a dance of wills and we eventually settled into a rhythm that was both hungry and sensual.
ASH
I rode home with Griffin instead of Izzy and Willow. Griffin kept quiet the whole ride and dropped me off on the street in front of the house. At first, I tried to pretend I wasn’t waiting for Savannah to walk through the front door. After checking the driveway for the millionth time, I had to admit it to myself. Now, I sat in the living room with the lights low and a book in my lap.
I wasn’t angry anymore. Honestly, I don’t know why I l
ost my temper earlier. Savannah had been right, I should trust her. My instincts came alive when I saw him watching her. It was primal and an emotion I never felt before now. I was ashamed that I didn’t fight it and worried that Savannah wouldn’t forgive me.
Where was she? I thought she was going to take Liam to his place and then come straight home, but it was approaching midnight. My throat felt tight and I worried that I may have driven her to trust the wrong guy. There was something wrong with Liam. I hadn’t lied when I told her that. Now, I couldn’t stop imagining all the horrible scenarios that Savannah may be placed in.
When I wasn’t worrying over Liam harming her, I was torturing myself with what other activities they might be up to. I never had to worry about Savannah with guys. She wasn’t interested and they naturally sensed that enough to stay away from her. She had been different tonight. Maybe it was her ascension drawing near, but it could have been him.
Lights flashed in the driveway to reveal a black mustang pulling in. A closer inspection revealed that Liam was driving. I pushed my anger back at the memory of Savannah saying she wouldn’t let Liam drive and forced myself to be calm. I desperately wanted to watch out the window until Savannah was safely inside. However, if she realized I was spying on her it would serve as more proof that I didn’t trust her.
I walked to the entryway between the hallway and the living room to wait for Savannah. I knew Liam walked her to the door, because I could hear faint voices through it. My impatience was growing, but I forced myself to take a casual stance against the wall until she was inside. Savannah was transformed by the smile that stretched across her face, but it made me uneasy. She turned away from me to climb the stairs.
“Hey.” Her back tensed at my voice, but she turned to face me with her hand clenched around the railing.
“Is there something you need?”
“I’m sorry. There is no excuse for the way I acted earlier. I was a jerk and I hope that you won’t hold it against me. I may have misgivings about Liam, but I should have handled it differently.”
She looked at me from the third step of the staircase and smiled hesitantly. “I’m still upset with you, but I’ll come around. I do expect you to apologize to Liam too.”
“I take it that means you are seeing him again?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Yes, I think I am.” She smiled and turned to go upstairs. I followed closely behind. My mind was working at a face pace to process, what it would mean if she saw Liam again and how I would react to it. The idea of her dating him made me queasy.
Savannah stopped at the entrance to her room and leaned against the door. “You want to come in? We could watch a movie? We haven’t done that in a while.”
There was a very good reason why we hadn’t done that in a while. Lying on her bed watching a movie was not easy for me. After tonight, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to refuse. I could use as many points with her as possible.
“Yea, sounds like a good idea. No girlie movies, okay?”
“Ha! After tonight, I get to pick the movie. I’m thinking Titanic or Ever After…”
I groaned. Three hours of Titanic was not appealing and Ever After wasn’t much better.
“Mmmm, I’m not sure I could withstand the pain of watching either of those.” I feigned a yawn, “I’m suddenly exhausted.” Savannah playfully punched my arm.
“Okay, how about a romantic comedy?” I nodded and followed her into the bedroom. She put on Made of Honor and we curled up on her bed. Her head tucked into the crook of my arm and we relaxed into a familiar routine.
She fell asleep on my chest halfway through the movie, while I lay awake tempted by the scent of her lingering perfume. When the movie reached the last ten minutes, she startled herself awake. Sitting up she turned to glance around the room with a confused expression on her face. Her eyes lit on me and I was entranced by the expression that crossed her features.
“Ash…” The voice that escaped did not sound like my Savannah. She sounded like the frightened little girl she used to be. It was the sound of the lost child, who didn’t believe anyone could love her. Her eyes widened and her voice pleaded, “Ash…” I couldn’t bear the pain that emanated from her. It wasn’t merely her voice or appearance; I could feel her aura calling out for me to heal her. She was back in that metal cage being forced to witness her parents sacrifice innocent after innocent. I could hear her longing, her profound need to be saved. “Ash, please…”
Her hand reached for me, while her eyes remained locked in her mental prison. I circled her wrists with my hands and pulled her to me. I meant to wrap her body with my own and offer warmth, but when I cradled her to me her cheek pressed against mine.
Her hand gripped my skin hard enough to bruise me. It was painful, but not nearly as much as what she was enduring. Every night since she came to live with us, I watched her be torn from the inside out. Her demons ate away at her every day. This was different. Lately, her nightmares had worsened and I didn’t know how to banish them. I wanted to keep her safe, but I didn’t know how to save her from herself.
Her tears moistened my cheeks and my heart broke at the contact. Something snapped in me then. My chest tore in two and I bridged a feeling that until now had been barricaded by as many shields as I could muster. I took her face in my hands and kissed her with the passion of a lifetime. Everything I ever felt for her was in that kiss. My need to protect her, my amazement at her respect for every living being, my love… I couldn’t convey enough, but I tried. None of my emotions could overcome the amazement at the response I received. She kissed me back.
Savannah
I was restless. I fell asleep before the movie ended and woke up to a cold bed. Ash was nowhere to be seen and the window onto the terrace was wide open. I shivered and climbed out of bed to close it. My bare feet touched the floor and I felt something soft catch between my toes. I lifted my foot to find a large black feather. I massaged it between my thumb and finger, trying to figure out how it ended up in my room. Shrugging, I threw it into the trash.
The window was stuck, but it eventually gave way and allowed me to shut out the cold. The night was beautiful. The stars were more visible than usual and the moon was full. I sighed at the beauty and turned to go back to sleep. The moon shone through the glass to light up the room, but left a corner that drew the darkness from the surrounding area to create a pit.
The shadow straightened and moved to create the shape of a man, which was frightening enough. Then the wings spread to reveal the thing from the secret passage. A silent scream caught in my throat. I wanted to run, but then I thought of Ash and Maye. I couldn’t allow this shadow to harm them. I backed away until I hit the window. I quickly opened it to climb onto the terrace. It followed.
I ran to the edge, but was stopped by the balustrade. I leaned over to see how far it would be if I jumped, but when I tried hands pulled me back. I fought to escape. My fingers clenched and I moved to claw its eyes out.
“S, calm down! I’m not going to hurt you!”
Tears fell before I could hold them back and I curled into a tight ball. Ash knelt and held me as I let go of my fears in his arms. He smoothed my hair away from my face and sang to calm me.
“I’m sorry.” I pushed the words out between fits of crying.
“I know. I know.” Ash carried me back into my room and settled me on the bed. He tucked the covers around my body, but when he tried to leave I stopped him.
“Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.” He nodded and settled back into his position from earlier that night. I drifted to sleep in his arms.
The next morning I woke to a migraine and the smell of pancakes. On the table, beside the bed was a tray filled with a fresh breakfast. I smiled, knowing that Ash left it for me. Beside the glass of milk, I found some ibuprofen for my headache. I loved that he knew me so well. Only he would realize that I would have a migraine after nightmares.
I
thought about the kiss with Liam. I wasn’t sure why we had kissed. I hadn’t known him long enough to develop feelings for him, but when he kissed me it felt right. I couldn’t remember ever wanting to kiss anyone.
Last night had been terrifying. I was used to nightmares, but I never had issues with sleep walking and wondered at the new development. I was lucky Ash caught me. I could have ended up with a broken neck. Sighing, I tackled my breakfast.
I spent the rest of the morning resting in bed and doing homework. When I noticed that I had read the same paragraph several times over the past twenty minutes and still didn’t know what it was about, I pushed the textbook away from me.
My notebook lay open next to me. I grabbed the pen and began to doodle. Thinking back to the secret passage and my waking nightmare from last night, I started to draw the thing and realized that I had drawn an angel with terrifying eyes and black wings. The thing resembled an angel, but with strange symbols across the skin and black wings. Next to the fallen angel was the box from the passage.
I tore the page from my notebook and crumpled it into a ball to toss it into the trash bin. I missed, and got up to pick the ball of paper up. Looking down into the trash, I paused at the sight of a black feather. Taking the feather in my hand, I could feel my heart beat accelerate. The feather felt real. I quickly sent a text to Izzy and Willow, begging them to come over.
An hour later, I sat on my bed with the feather on my lap; books lay scattered around me. The textbook I was currently staring at was about the properties of certain stones.
“Hey, sorry it took me so long.” Willow startled me and I jumped to hug her.
“Wow, okay I didn’t know you missed me that much!” She laughed and sat on the bed. “Um, what’s with the books?” Her hand moved to pick up the feather that lay on the coverlet from when I stood up. In comparison, the feather dwarfed her hand. It was about a foot long and as wide as three fingers.
It took me some time to explain my hallucination in the passage, my dreams, and the feather. When I was finished, Willow sat in silence staring at the feather.
“Couldn’t this me from one of Izzy’s outfits?” She handed the feather back and I stood to place it in my dresser.
“Do you ever remember her wearing anything that had giant sized feathers?” I spoke forcefully, because I needed her to believe me.
“You said Ash put everything from the passage into the attic, right?” Willow stood and led the way towards the attic.
It took us a while to comb through the boxes, because Maye had insisted on keeping almost everything from my parents’ estate. Willow got sidetracked when we found the boxes from the passageway. Once her eyes set on the journals, she was lost to me. Every half an hour I would call Izzy and leave a voicemail for her, but she still hadn’t called back.
“Listen to this, your ancestor says that he sought the dead to learn about your lineage.” Willow turned the page and blew dust from the text.
“What do you mean he sought the dead?” I grabbed the journal and tried to find the section she left off at, but Willow took it back.
“He used rituals to bring back the souls of the dead to gain knowledge.”
That confused me. “Wait, I thought you needed something that represented a specific person in order to communicate with the dead?”
Willow smiled. “The blood of someone is the most significant representation of that person. Since he was their descendent, their blood was also his blood.”
That was interesting. The possibilities of communicating with the first witches from your line would be amazing, but I had a feeling it would take a lifetime to communicate with all your ancestors.
An hour later, I was examining clothing from the passageway when Willow jumped to her feet. At first I thought that a spider must have crawled near her, but then I saw the way she was looking at the journal.
“Oh my God!” She looked at me and back at the book. “Did you know how the royal lineages were created?” I shook my head. “It says here that the first witches were Nephilim. Apparently, most of the Nephilim were whipped out of existence. However, the few who managed to refrain from destructive actions were spared. The Cross family was unique, because not only are they the descendants of Nephilim, but they also have the blood of demons running through their veins.”
Willow sat on an unopened box, while I waited to hear the rest. I was descended from Nephilim? Why would a Nephilim allow their blood to mix with a demon?
“It says that they were born to angel and man, but destined to precede the fallen unto earth. They would feed from the darkness to be born again in the light. It then says something about how the royal lineages took part in a ritual and fed on the blood of demons.”
Willow snapped the book shut and stared at me. “You know that doesn’t mean anything bad, right? I mean, even if you have some demon blood in you, it doesn’t make you evil.”
“I know.” Shaking my head, I went back to the box I had been searching through. I moved aside a silk shawl to discover the box we had been searching for. I picked it up and showed it to Willow.
Willow examined the box and had me repeat my experience in the passageway. Her brow was crinkled, which happened when she was deep in thought. She picked through some of the books we brought with us to the attic and started flipping through them. I knew this was a sign that I was dead to her until she found what she was looking for.
Now that I found the bloodstone box, I didn’t have a target to look for. I pulled the box Willow had been going through and started sorting through the journals. Some of the bindings were falling to pieces, but others were perfectly preserved. I came to find that while they all looked like journals; some of them were filled with spells, rituals, and research.
I didn’t spend much time looking at any specific journal, but started organizing them into piles based on their contents. At the bottom of the box, I found the newest collection. There was a journal by a man who would have been my third cousin, a great aunt, my grandmother, and my grandfather. I placed those journals in a special pile. I never considered what my other relatives would have been like, but now I was curious. Descendants of angels and demons; I wondered if any of them knew.
Lastly, a single journal remained in the box. It was more modern and in great condition. I opened it to see that the handwriting was a delicate script, which must have been a woman’s. I quickly flipped through the pages and saw that the further I got in the journal, the worse the writing became. Curious, I went back to the first page and was dumbstruck, when I saw the name “Irena Cross” in large letters.
I was holding my mother's journal, which was a strange concept. I remembered my mother when she still had spurts of kindness and wondered what she had been like before she became a monster.
“Do you know what bloodstone is used for?”
Grasping the journal in my hands, I moved closer to Willow.
“I know a little. It’s used to increase the power of a spell. Doesn’t it also have something to do with protection?”
“Yeah, bloodstone is supposed to provide protection against demons and it also gives the user power over demons. It is also used to banish evil.”
“Quartz is used for protection and containment, right?” I had heard the word demon too many times lately. I was starting to feel ill at the implications that this box had.
“S, I think this box was made to contain a demon and to protect others from it. It makes sense considering what you saw in that passage and last night…”
I held my hand up to stop her. I was beginning to feel caged in. If that box was meant to protect everyone from a demon and I unleashed it, that meant I was responsible for anyone it harmed. Oh God, what if it hurt someone I care about?
“The only thing I can’t figure out is why it is interested in you. I mean, it makes sense that you would see it in the passage, but why would it follow you here?” Willow walked to me and spun me around to face her.
??
?I don’t know! Okay? If I knew I would tell you, but I don’t.” My head was beginning to spin and I couldn’t get enough oxygen. Willow noticed immediately and led me downstairs and back into my bedroom. I sat on the bed with my mother’s journal still clenched in my fist.
“Maybe we should ask Maye about this?” Willow asked shyly.
“No!” I started to panic again. “I don’t want to worry her. She’ll probably just say it was a hallucination or whatever. This is something I need to figure out on my own. Besides, we don’t even know if this demon is going to come back….”
LIAM
“How did it go?”
I turned to find Kali sitting on the couch in my living room. She wasn’t dressed to tempt, but only a saint wouldn’t want to devour her. Her flaming red hair hung to her shoulders and her bright green eyes held power and wisdom. She had a knowing look, as if she were mocking me, which she likely was.
“I’m assuming you’re asking about my mothers’ scheme? It went fine.”
“Oh, really? What’s with the shiner then?” She walked to me and gently pushed the puffiness around my eye.
“That is a present from her foster brother. I think he likes me.” I smiled, and wrapped my arm around her waist to pull her in closer, but she spun out of reach.
“I don’t think so.” She smiled coyly. “I just came to see if you need some advice, since the Cross girl is a different sort of breed than you’re used to.”
“I don’t need advice when it comes to females.” I crooked my smile at her. “You should know that.”
“Ha! You don’t have issues when it comes to women with no morals or in my case, women who don’t have time to search for someone better.” She crossed her arms and looked at me lazily.
“I was just teasing. I don’t think of you in the same group as all those other women. You know that.” I moved closer and tipped her chin up to look her in the eyes. “We’re friends. You know that, right?” Her expression changed to a fleeting look I had never seen before and then switched back to her usual self.
“That isn’t the point. I just wanted to make sure you know to take it slowly with the girl. She has been surrounded by darkness her entire life, but she still has some innocence.”
“You’re worried that I might corrupt her? Why do you even care?” This was a side of Kali I had never seen. She didn’t normally concern herself with others and was even less likely to, when she didn’t know the person.
She made an exasperated noise and shoved my chest hard enough to slam me into the opposing wall. “I do care about other people you know. Is it that difficult to believe I might have a heart?” When I stay silent with a dumbfounded expression, she continued. “Just because I was created instead of born, does not mean I don’t have feelings! What I do is a job; it doesn’t mean I enjoy it! Besides, I do know the Cross girl. Her parents were one of my assignments.”
“Her parents were an assignment? You mean the Hellhounds went on a wild hunt to catch them? I thought the coven killed them.”
Kali shook her head. “In their case, we went on the hunt to consume them. They were powerful witches and had a spell in place. Their bodies died, but their spirits continued to avoid death. My sisters and I hunted them down and consumed their souls. It was one of the few assignments I enjoyed.” She smiled, and let loose a deafening howl. The furniture began to seizure as the wall behind Kali, appeared to crack down the center. The crack spread and the wall began to ripple. A riptide tore through the wall and swirled in a clockwise pattern. The hypnotic nature of the vortex picked up momentum, until a black hole emerged in the center. “Catch you later.” Kali smiled back at me, and disappeared into the portal. There was a loud pop and the portal imploded on itself and disappeared.
I watched as her back disappeared into the portal. She must have been really bothered by our conversation, because she normally refrained from opening a portal unless it was at place of divine power. It took more energy to create a portal anywhere else.
I thought back to the implications of our conversation. It sounded as if she cared for Savannah, which was strange for a Hellhound. When one of the sisters was given an assignment it was serious business, but the sisters only went on a wild hunt for the worst cases. As one of the few mortals who knew a hellhound on a personal level, I knew what they went through.
To track down prey, the sister had to know the scent of their victim. However, a hellhound did not smell the scent of perfume or skin. They smelled the soul of their prey. To do that, the hellhound would need to immerse themselves in the memories of their prey.
When the pack went on a wild hunt, they had to immerse themselves in the entire being of that person. It is somewhat like bathing in their soul. The hellhounds would relive every action their prey took, they would feel the pain the victims felt, and the scars left behind. Kali would have taken the place of each sacrifice, she would have been immersed in the soul that offered those sacrifices, and would have endured every scar the Cross family inflicted on Savannah. I did not envy her.