Caged in Darkness, Page 4

  Part of me wanted to ask what had been done. Were my parents dead? Was it a quick death? Would they ever be able to hurt me again? It was difficult to imagine a life free of their constant abuse. I suffered the eternal fear that even if they were dead, they would find ways to inflict pain on me and those near me. Was it possible to wage war from the afterlife? I craved answers to these questions, but I couldn’t bear to ask Maye. I knew she was hurting and my questions would bring her more pain.

  Maye became my surrogate mother, as she had already been for Ash. His parents died in a car crash when he was four. Maye, as his Aunt and closest relative, became his legal guardian. She was the only family he remembered. I wish it was that way for me. What I would give to slip into blissful ignorance. Unfortunately, my parents were a nightmare that was repeatedly inflicted on me in daylight and in sleep.

  When I first came to live with Maye, I felt guilty that she and Ash needed to suffer my presence in their lives. They had a simple routine that they followed, and I barred their usual routine with my presence. Theirs was a beautiful home that I infected. They no longer had peaceful nights. The echoes of my childhood screamed through the hollowed essence of their home. They often came down to breakfast with false cheerfulness that was ruined by the ashen circles beneath their eyes. My nightmares plagued my dreams, and their wakefulness.

  My bedroom was upstairs with a large bay window, and a bathroom that connected mine and Ash’s room. Maye originally gave me the guest room on the ground floor, but without any windows and only a single escape route, I panicked. Maye understood the unusual situation and switched rooms with me, for which I was grateful.

  I quickly learned to lock both doors when using the facilities to avoid uncomfortable interruptions. My first week in my new bedroom, I casually walked into the bathroom as Ash was drying off from the shower. Rather than have that happen again, we both opted to be cautious. I knew the bathroom acted as a tunnel for the sounds that came from my room at night. My nightmares, which were in fact memories… must have affected him. To hear that pain, and only have a bathroom as a barrier between him and my taint must have been exhausting.

  I became a ghost, misting through their home, while avoiding as much interaction as possible. Occasionally, they would notice an item that had been moved, or leftovers that were eaten, but those were the only clues to my presence. I often envisioned a medium coming to their home to banish my existence, or a priest to exorcise my demons. I wanted to keep my interruptions to a minimum.

  It wasn’t until my sixth month there that they became fed up with my avoidance issues. I slithered into the kitchen for some food. It was around midnight, and my new family was waiting for me. The kitchen was abnormally large with oak cabinets and a long counter that divided the kitchen from a dining room. This was not to be confused with the larger dining room, whose doors were always closed.

  Maye was sitting at a table in the room beside the kitchen. It was a circular structure with one leg shorter than the others. The table wobbled whenever something touched the top of it, but was stable enough to eat at.

  Ash leaned against the counter, while popping grapes into his mouth and looking amused at my obvious confusion. I couldn’t understand why they were waiting in the kitchen. It was late, and I knew from experience that this time of night was the safest to leave my room.

  I paused next to the counter on the opposite side from Ash. It helped to have a barrier between us. “Why are you both up so late? Do you want me to come back later?”

  Maye snorted, and swiveled in her chair to face me. “Dear, this is an intervention. Do you know what that is?” Her voice was a bit hoarse with a tint of annoyance.

  I knew what an intervention was. My parents had limited my education, but since coming to live with Maye I had been sucking up as much knowledge, as my mind could handle. I spent every day closeted within my room reading any book I could get my hands on, which made me grateful that my mother had originally employed a nanny who taught me the basics.

  “Yes, I know what an intervention is…” My voice trailed off and I looked at Ash for a clue to what was going on and he shrugged. “I just don’t understand why you think I need one.”

  Maye lifted her frame from the chair and crossed to the counter. She stopped at the end and acted as a physical bond between Ash and myself.

  “Child, you are part of this family now. You cannot keep hiding in your room; it’s unhealthy. This has gone on long enough and it needs to stop. Are you unhappy here? Have we done something to make you feel unwelcome?” Her hand reached across the counter and folded itself across my own; I yanked mine away.

  “No! Oh, God no. You’re the best. You and Ash are the kindest people I have ever known. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be living in a physical portrait of hell. I love being here. Please believe that!” I felt guilty that they didn’t know how grateful I was. I made a mental note to make a greater effort to include myself. I had no idea how to do be part of a family.

  Ash shifted his feet and looked at Maye, and he nodded. “Savannah, we don’t want you to leave. We want you to start hanging with us. I mean, we are a family. Normal families eat together, they watch TV, and… I don’t know… they get sick of each other and argue. You only come out at night, and whenever you see us you agree with everything we say. It’s kind of weird.” He wrinkled his nose, and continued. “ It’s not that we want you to start doing something you are uncomfortable with, but ummm… maybe stop acting like a crazy person who is afraid of people. We don’t bite. I promise.” He snickered. “At least I don’t. I can’t make any promises about Maye.” He cocked an amused grin at Maye, and grabbed another grape.

  Maye sighed, while shaking her head. “I do not bite. I just nibble a bit.” She then glared directly into my eyes. “Child, we want you to be happy. I already suggested you have counseling with a member from our sister coven that specializes in psychiatry, but you refused. If you can’t find natural paths to help heal, I am going to insist on her treating you. What happened to you before is horrifying, but you have a chance here to live a normal life. You can have friends, find a hobby, go to school and even learn magic.”

  At my blank expression, she continued. “What you are or where you came from is not important. It is who you are and the choices you make, that determine who you will become. If you can look inward and be satisfied, the opinions of others should melt away."

  I knew I would never be someone who is comfortable enough with other people to develop friendships, and I wasn’t sure that anything interested me enough to become a hobby. However, the last two options made me pause. I had never been to school. School was for normal kids, with normal lives and normal problems. I wanted that. Magic on the other hand was at the opposite end of the spectrum from normal, but in this town… abnormal was the new normal.

  I looked across the counter at Ash and then at the end of the counter to see Maye. They both fixated an expecting look on me. I wanted those things; I just didn’t believe that I was capable of them. I had spent the past nine years bound in a prison of eternal darkness. My parents had torn through my innocence and left me with a tar-like substance that was corrupting what was left of me. I could feel it at night; slithering and curling around my soul as it slowly devoured me.

  4: Gothic

  Fourth Entry: My Ghost

  The day I first came to Meadow Falls is little more than a dream, though that little girl plagues me every day. I still hear her crying out, and my skull fractures as pain is inflicted on her. She remained frozen in an eternal chamber of torture, and I did not know how to help her escape. Though, I would never escape her. She would follow me around for the rest of my life; a ghost waiting in the wings for me to acknowledge her. Her soft trailing fingers would continue to attempt a connection that I refused to allow; that I couldn’t allow if I wanted to survive. That ghostly girl was weak and insecure, while I needed to be strong and confident.

  Current Day

  15 years, 11
months, and 14 days old

  When I slammed my locker door shut, my friend Isabella was leaning against the lockers with an irritated expression on her face. Isabella, or as she preferred to be called, “Izzy,” was a recent edition to mine and Willow’s antisocial group. Izzy transferred to Meadow High her freshman year, and immediately took to us. It wasn’t that surprising since Izzy was peculiar. She used to live in New York City, which was more accepting of eccentric personalities. At first, we barely tolerated her. Willow and I were completely happy with our duo and didn’t need to make it into a trio. However, after Izzy invited herself to our homes and conveniently showed up when we were out, we decided to accept the inevitable.

  Izzy had a beauty that could not be replicated. She rarely wore anything other than black and was always decked out with bizarre jewelry. Today she was wearing a short black dress with bright red straps and a flared skirt. Her blonde hair was cropped short in back and angled forward to end at her chin. She never wore make up, which suited her translucent skin and bright blue eyes.

  Despite her slightly gothic appearance, her personality was more cheerful than people would expect. She wasn’t the most agreeable person and had no patience for the bleach blonde Barbies of our school, but she had a sense of humor. She was also extremely loyal and accepting of mine and Willow’s differences. She never asked about the “witchy” part of our lives, but we knew she was aware of it. She had been to our homes and seen our town in the woods with the altar at its center. She seemed to naturally understand that it was a topic that was off limits.

  “Where’s Willow?” I snapped to attention at my best friend’s name and shrugged.

  “She sent me a text letting me know she was going to be late. She said she’d be here in time for lunch.”

  Willow was a mouse with a secret spunk. She was eternally shy, but was the sweetest person I had ever met. I would do anything to keep her happy and safe. Her parents were part of the Meadow Falls coven, which meant she had lived there her entire life. Until I came along, she had been completely alone. The other kids in the coven tolerated, but ignored her. She wasn’t particularly talented in the magic arena. However, all born witches only had a portion of their true power until they came of age.

  On the 16th anniversary of our first breath, we would come into our true powers. Until then it was impossible for the witchlings, which is what we called the children of full grown witches, to know how powerful they would be. Though, power tends to run in families. Willow came from a weaker line, and therefore was invisible to other witchlings.

  Willow’s family was less powerful, but had a rare gift that allowed them to bring people back from the brink of death. That gift only came in handy if they were present for the exact moment of death; when a person passes through the veil between life and death.

  I looked up when the warning bell sounded. Izzy was staring past my shoulder with a hungry look in her eyes. I turned around to see a dark brooding senior leaning against his locker speaking to someone, who I assumed was Griffin.

  The senior was casually dressed with a maroon, long sleeve button up shirt that hung open to his middle. The shirt revealed a tight v-neck that accented his muscles. His hair was short and slightly spiky with a messy attitude. His eyes were devouring; I knew from experience that when those eyes were fixated on you, you could feel yourself being pulled into their vortex. His eyes were mesmerizing and kind. Most girls wanted to fall into those green orbs, but I was not one of them. Ash may be the most beautiful guy I had ever met, but he was the closest thing to a brother I had.

  Izzy had issues with being interested in guys who were off limits to her. Ash, being part of my family, was off limits. He was also a senior, which made him even more tempting since seniors rarely dated sophomores.

  Ash always acknowledged Izzy, which just encouraged her infatuation. She didn’t seem to understand that he was kind to her mainly because she was my friend. My anti-social behavior never sat well with Ash. He would go out of his way to bring any sort of happiness to my life. He appreciated anyone else who did this and so he was grateful to both Willow and Izzy. Though, Willow didn’t seem to enjoy his attention quite as much as Izzy did.

  I eyed the boys as Griffin slammed his locker door and turned his sandy brown haired head in our direction. His blue eyes turned cold, when he took in Izzy and me. Ash looked up to see as he walked to us. Griffin stopped a little past us and waited impatiently as Ash leaned towards me to brush a wavy strand of hair away from my face. I shook my head so that the strand would return to its original state.

  Ash smiled and said, “Maye wanted me to tell you that she wouldn’t be home after school. She said she had some things to take care of.”

  Ash and I had a tentative relationship that was built on his unfailing patience in the face of the wall I built between me and the outside world. Ash’s problem was that he never gave up and he had a soft spot for damaged goods. I was the poster child for damaged, which meant that in our own way we had developed a close bond. He constantly tried to bring me out into the light and I persisted on remaining one with the shadows. However, there were times when we compromised by meeting in the middle.

  “I know. I overheard her on the phone last week; something about a lawyer… Did she say why she was seeing one?”

  Ash grunted, “No, but I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably making a will or something.” He stared me in the eye for a moment. “Do you want me to go straight home after school so you’re not alone?”

  Ash knew that when I was alone in the house I tended to have panic attacks. He learned that the hard way when he came home with Maye from seeing a movie, to find me curled in fetal position in the kitchen pantry. When they tried to comfort me, I slashed at them with my nails, while letting forth a growl. My mind simply wouldn’t process who they were, and as cornered animals do… I viewed them as a threat. Ash managed to lure me out of my internal rage by singing to me. When my mind began to process who I had been slashing at, I broke down into tears. They made a point not to leave me home alone again.

  “Mmmm… nope.” I avoided his eyes, as I shoved my books into the tote at my feet. “I’m not going to be home anyway. I promised Izzy we could go dress shopping today.” I rolled my eyes at Izzy.

  “Well, if I am going to be seen with you two wallflowers, you can’t look like you just rolled out of bed. It’s either wear my clothes or buy something new. Since you and Willow insist my wardrobe is too garish for your complexions; that leaves shopping…” Izzy shrugged with a smile and walked off towards her first period class.

  Ash blocked my way when I tried to follow. “You’re going shopping?” He laughed, “To a mall… to buy real clothes?” Amusement and disbelief ran rampant in his voice.

  I shoved Ash gently against the locker. “Yes, to the mall for real clothes. What kind of clothes did you think I was going to buy?” I crossed my arms and gave him my, be careful what you say or you’ll regret it stare.

  Griffin came to Ash’s rescue by shouting that they needed to get to class or they would be late. Ash glanced at me, shrugged and said “Guess I can’t answer that question. Talk to you tonight, S.”

  I looked in the direction that Izzy had gone and slowly ambled forward. This was going to be a long day. Not only did I have to worry about a calculus test and the inevitable bruising from self defense class, but I had to worry about shopping too.

  Ash

  When Savannah turned, her hair grazed my face and brought the fresh scent of strawberries. I thought it was ironic that she was firm in her decision to be anti-feminine, considering that she added small accents, which were very much feminine. Savannah had been that way since the first day I met her. She fought a war within herself; always trying to be someone she wasn’t. She was beautiful, but she hid it behind baggy clothes. She was smart, but she never opened her mouth to show it. She was insecure and yet she deliberately took the lead, as if daring her personality to deny her anything.

  At first,
I was jealous when Savannah came to live with us. I had been uncomfortable with the idea of sharing Maye since she was the only family I had left. When I thought of the look in Savannah’s eyes the night she showed up on our lawn; the vacant cavern of emotion behind her gaze, I wanted to rescue her.

  I was a child when Savannah came to live with us and didn’t realize that she couldn’t be fixed. She wasn’t a disease or a broken computer; she was a girl who had endured the nine circles of hell and survived. I admired her, but more than that I loved her. I had to share Maye, but I gained so much more.

  I couldn’t help but feel protective of Savannah; it was in my nature. I was an Emmons; it was in our blood to protect our loved ones, just as it was in our nature to descend into a poisonous rage when those loved ones are threatened. The thought of the trials Savannah endured, was enough to make me lengthen my fangs and hiss.

  I walked to English, and went to each of my classes, but they were more of a formality at this point. Other than first period English and fourth period gym, I had enough credits to graduate. Rather than taking a course load of unneeded electives, I choose to go home directly after lunch.

  As a senior, I sat in the first cafeteria. My small band of friends took up the table in the middle of the room, which meant that we were the object of many stares. Unlike my friends, I was uncomfortable with people watching me. I felt like a stage puppet for the student population. Griffin enjoyed performing for everyone. I didn’t.

  My table was filled mostly with girls and a handful of guys. I sat on the far end of it, which over looked the entrance to the cafeteria. Griffin sat directly across from me and Isis next to him. The rest weren’t witches, and remained unaware of what we were.

  Isis was a member of the coven, but I found her annoyingly flirtatious. Her cruelty towards Savannah and her friends made me dislike her. Many considered Isis beautiful, but her beauty lay in her appearance only. Her skin was the shade of bronzed coffee. Her hair hung straight down her back to graze her thighs, and her eyes were like red garnets. She wore her makeup the way ancient Egyptians had, with the color outlining her eyes to make them seem catlike. She had an amazing body; thin with long legs and big breasts. I knew that was why Griffin kept her around. They hooked up on a regular basis, but neither really wanted the other for anything more than sex.

  Isis was rarely found without her two best friends, Jen and Stacey. They were twins from the coven, but their parents had taken them out of the country to visit relatives in Ireland for a few weeks. Isis was alone and she did not look happy about it. She was on a war path and her personality depicted it.

  I winced, thinking that Isis would probably go out of her way to cause problems for Savannah until her friends were back to distract her. She usually attacked Savannah when she was in a bad mood.

  “Look who just walked in.” Isis craned her neck, as she pointed out Savannah entering the cafeteria. “It’s such a shame that she has the body of a child. She could almost be pretty. Maybe I should suggest a plastic surgeon to fix her problem areas.” Her eyes sparkled with wicked intent. “I mean, she is almost sixteen. It’s not normal to be so flat chested. Maybe, she is really a boy?” Isis looked me in the eye, daring me to defend Savannah. I ignored her, and ate my fries.

  “I think I’ll offer her that advice.” Isis turned to Griffin. He nodded, and smiled.

  “Go ahead. It’s about time someone told her.” He nodded in Savannah’s direction.

  Isis pulled herself out of her seat and began to walk towards Savannah with a gleeful determination to her step. I spun out of my seat, walked briskly to her and grabbed her arm in a harsh grip.

  “Lay off it. You’re not going to say anything to her, understood?” I ground the words through clenched teeth, and felt my eyes glow in warning. I was descended from the Emmons line, which was known for their tempers.

  To be on the bad side of an Emmons was deadly. I was strongest in the fire element, and when push into a rage my teeth would lengthen to poisonous fangs. We were known to be especially protective of our families.

  Isis stared in wonder at the fangs protruding from my open mouth. Her mouth was wide at seeing them for the first time. Ordinarily, I controlled my temper, but lately I found my emotions chaotic.

  “You will leave her alone.” My speech was slurred. Isis nodded, and I released her arm. Her arm was bruised in the shape of my fingers. I should have felt guilty, but seeing Savannah walk out the doors and I knew I couldn’t regret my actions.

  Savannah

  The first half of the school day passed quickly. I hardly noticed as the hands of the clock danced past noon. The lunch bell sounded and my stomach growled in annoyance. I stored my bag in my locker on my way to the cafeteria and took a few moments to check my cell for messages. I had a text from Maye and felt my stomach drop before I opened it.

  Considering Maye’s bafflement at modern technology, I knew she must have spent a good while figuring how to send me a text, which was confirmed when I saw several more texts with the exact same message. It took seeing my parents’ names flash across the screen before I processed what she wrote me. Nausea engulfed me, as I stuff my phone into my locker and rushed to lunch.

  Our basement level school cafeteria was somewhat unique. It was divided into four sections, which were then divided into cliques.

  The first section was filled with the stereotypical jocks and Cheerleader’s, but also had people who I called the shadows. These were people who were notorious for shadowing these groups and were tolerated, but not encouraged by the actual group members.

  The second section was filled to the brim with the norms, which were people who were literally the definition of average. Usually they refused to stick to a single clique, dangling between several.

  The third cafeteria was littered with the smart crowd. These were not just typical geeks, but rather truly intelligent individuals. The last cafeteria was the unlucky one. Anyone in that section belonged in the invisible or obnoxious category. They were either so mouse like that no one noticed them or they belonged to the worse category filled with class clowns, Goths, or Punks. While the great population shunned the people in the last section, I found them to be the most worthy of knowing.

  I walked through sections all four sections and paused when I reached the doors that led to the quad. My best friends were unquestionably section four students, but rather than be persecuted by high school stereotypes; they choose to ignore their status. We compromised with high school mentality by claiming a picnic bench outside during the warmer months and populated the library during winter.

  Our bench was a mint green metallic monstrosity, but it was ours. During lunch, we were usually surrounded by herds of people who claimed the benches nearby. However, today I noticed that most of the benches were empty. I figured this had something to do with the light mist that covered the benches from the spring rain this morning.

  Willow and Izzy were seated on opposite sides of the bench. This was usually the case since I was the thread that tied them together. Izzy was the obnoxious borderline Goth type, while Willow was the invisible moral type. They belonged at opposite sides of the spectrum, but when the three of us were together they glided from their opposing sides to merge in the middle.

  Willow seemed distracted this morning, while Izzy chatted uncontrollably. When I approached, a branch snapped beneath my flats and caused them to turn. Willow looked up at me and smiled. Most people couldn’t see Willows beauty because she caved in on herself when around other people. However, when Willow wasn’t afraid that people might be judging her, she had a natural classic beauty.

  Willow held her smile a bit too long and I noticed the strain behind her hazel eyes. Her chestnut brown hair was casually thrown into a messy bun at her nape with random strands falling around her heart shaped face.

  Willow never wore her hair up unless it was arranged perfectly. She wasn’t the typical teen to concentrate on what was fashionable, but instead kept to a d
urable look. I knew something must be off about today; her hair was screaming it at me. I made a silent promise to ask her later. Willow knew my silent signals and quirked up the corner of her mouth. Willow had coupled her messy look with a pair of loose fitting jeans and a shirt that was at least a size too big on her.

  “Hey, S.” Willow’s voice was quiet and soft. She was the embodiment of nature; quite, serene, and its beauty was often overlooked. If there had been any noise other than a light breeze on the nearby trees, I would not have heard her.

  I sat down next to Willow and directly across from Izzy. Willow grabbed a lunch tray and pushed it towards me. I glanced down at some Bosco sticks with marinara sauce and garlic fries. Since Willow had a free period directly before lunch, she could get to the lunch room before the absurdly long line took over. Luckily, she knew exactly what to order for me on any given day. She claimed we had a psychic appetite connection. I thought it was more likely that it had to do with my picky appetite, the fact that I only liked five things on the menu, and I hated eating the same thing two days in a row.

  “Excited about shopping?” I said this sarcastically Willow disliked shopping even more than I did.

  Willow rolled her eyes and rasped “Oh, of course. I’ve been anxiously waiting for this day! Or rather the end of it…” Izzy grabbed a rolled up napkin and threw it at Willows face, and Willow batted it away.

  “Ha ha, very funny you two! Just wait, when we arrive at the bonfire and everyone stops to stare at our gorgeously clothed bodies, you will thank me.” Willow and I exchanged a horrified glance and burst out laughing. Izzy may want everyone staring at her, but if they did that, it would only be in revulsion. People attending the bonfire were not overly fond of our little group.

  “So, where are you planning on taking us for our little field trip? The strip in Landing or the mall in Bloomingdale?” I already knew the answer, but I also knew Izzy would have a riot talking about our excursion, which would provide me with time to think about more important subjects, while I nodded absently in affirmation.

  Maye wasn’t giving me a choice. Her text said “We are going to your parents’ house this weekend”, not “I would like to” or “Are you interested in.” She had made her text a statement and when Maye did that, the subject was not to be argued. I wouldn’t be given any leeway about confronting that place. For whatever reason, Maye required me to face my childhood for the possibility that I might want some of their things. I thought that was ridiculous, but I couldn’t tell Maye that.

  My heart constricted, as I remembered Maye’s text. As their only child, my parents’ estate had been left to me when they died. Maye, as my guardian, had been in control of that estate all these years, and we had silently agreed that it was a subject I did not want to talk about. However, according to her text, she had a buyer who was interested in my parents’ home. She knew that I would like to wash my hands of that house and accepted the offer on my behalf. She wanted me to go with her to the house this weekend to see if there was anything I wanted to keep before papers were signed.

  I wondered what the house would look like now. As far as I knew, it hadn’t been touched since the night my parents’ lives were extinguished. Would my cage be there? Would it stand erect, surrounded by tacky wallpaper and grime coated windows. Or had Maye have removed it already?

  I wasn’t sure I could face the memories that home carried. They would echo through the barren existence of that house. I knew from experience a home like that bled a soul of all happiness. I wasn’t certain I could retain that place again without succumbing to the imprinted memories my parents had left me with. Would the taint spread? Could I infect others with their remembered evil?

  “And I thought we could buy some tissue paper, cover it in mud, and use it as belts to whip all the boys into shape with.”

  “Huh? What about tissue paper and whipping?” Willow snickered softly, while Izzy stared me down with her parental, “don’t mess with me” face. She was testing to see if I was listening and I failed.

  LIAM

  My coven was congregated in an overly large barn that my mother designated for our rituals. Ordinarily, my afternoons were spent being home schooled in both the traditional and witch ways. However, today as the High Priestess of the Sacred Moon coven, my mother called a meeting.

  It was rare for us to convene for reasons other than rituals. Since, we didn’t have a ritual scheduled for today, they were puzzled and worried. We hadn’t set up for the amount of witches attending this gathering. I sat to the side on a barrel of hay, which was the only type of seating available. I had no desire to mingle with the others.

  As the son of the High Priestess, I was frequently plagued by women in the coven, who wanted to exploit my connection to my mother. I wasn’t interested in a serious relationship and if I showed interest in a member of the coven I would be expected to commit. I chose to only see non-witches because those relationships came with no strings attached. Luckily, the human population was overrun with sexually frustrated women, who considered me the bad boy type. I never wanted for company, and I did not need the complications of the type of company I would find here tonight.

  My mother, Diamante climbed the stairs to the stage at the back. She commanded their obedience without saying or doing anything. They simply quieted at the sight of her.

  “I’m glad to see you’re all here. We need to address an issue and it cannot wait since there is limited time to court her. The child of Irena and Devon Cross, is about to ascend.” Diamante paused for the coven to react, and proceeded. “I know you must be surprised, because I have kept their child a secret all these years. However, I did not wish another coven to learn about her existence and stake a claim on her. Unfortunately, it has come to my attention that another has.”

  The assembly of people began murmuring, a sign that my mother’s capabilities were being doubted. As the High Priestess, she was expected to uphold our coven’s best interest. A witch with Cross blood in her veins could have brought an obscene level of power to our collective.

  Bored, I began inching away from the wall to leave the room. I wasn’t interested in politics or my mother’s plotting. I was almost entirely through the exit, when I heard my mother say my name.

  “Liam has agreed to help us fix this issue.”

  Hearing shouts that questioned how I could possibly help; I couldn’t help wondering the same thing. I thought back to the past few days and… nope. I did not suffer an injury that would cause memory loss or poor judgment, and that was the only way I could be expected to help my mother with anything. I wondered how she expected to ensure my cooperation.

  “The Cross girl is an adolescent, which means she is likely to be guided by her hormones and nothing more. Girls at that age don’t care about anything other than themselves and boys. This is how we can be certain she will choose us for her initiation. Liam will seduce her into falling in love with him, and when she does, she won’t dare choose another coven for fear of losing him.”

  Oh, God. My blood began to rush, while a roaring began in my ears. I saw black, as I ground my teeth and induced a migraine. My mother expected me to pimp myself out to a teenage witch, who had mostly likely been a pampered little princess from the day she was born. The Cross family was one of the highest lineages in the paranormal community. Famous, Rich, and Royalty; meant that she would probably be a spoiled, opinionated ditz, with no idea what the real world was like. I couldn’t believe my mother expected me to seduce that.

  After the coven dissipated, my mother found me in her suite. The floor was evidence of my continued pacing, while waiting for her to finish with the coven.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “Offering my help to the coven, without even speaking to me about it?”

  “What’s the matter? At least we will finally put your womanizing talent to good use.” Diamante challenged. She sat at her vanity and pulled her black hair down to brush, while looking at me in the mirr
or.

  “I only date non-witches. There is no way I am helping you with this scheme. You want me to seduce a 16 year old? Are you crazy?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the post of her four poster bed.

  Diamante pursed her lips. “I have understood your rebellion. I haven’t asked for you to take responsibility, as my son. I’ve let you do what you want, when you have wanted, but this is enough. You will do this for me. It’s for the best of the coven, which means it is for your own good.” She spun in her seat to face me.

  I studied her face, taking special note of the anger in her eyes. She didn’t permit members of the coven to question or refuse her. I was the only one who dared, and as her only son she allowed me some leniency.

  “It won’t work. I seduce, but I don’t romance. I wouldn’t know the first thing about making a girl fall in love with me. You should get someone else to do it.”

  “I trust you to do it.” She stood, and walked over to grasp my hands. “You’re my son. The others would view it as an insult, were I to ask anyone other than you. Besides your seduction methods tend to convince women that they are in love with you, rather than recognizing their feelings as lust. We just need her to believe she is in love with you, long enough for her to take her vows.” She took my chin in a painful grip and forced me to look at her. “You will do this, or never ask for anything from me again.”

  I couldn’t look away. I knew when I was dealing with my mother and when I was dealing with my High Priestess. Right now, she was not my mother and I could not refuse my Priestess.

  “Of course I will do ask you ask.” I bowed my head in defeat, and she smiled. She was my mother again.

  “Make sure you ask the cook to make you something to eat before you leave. Too much junk food isn’t good for you.” She turned her cheek for me to kiss.

  I walked away feeling that my will had been stolen.

  Savannah

  Later that afternoon, Izzy surprised me by taking us to the strip in Landing, rather than the mall. She must have been taking pity on us, because normally she would jump at the chance to subject us to a day of endless shopping at the mall.

  Izzy parents had gifted her with a beat up rust colored Pontiac for her 16th birthday. The air conditioning didn’t work, but the stereo did and Izzy thought that made the car a dream. It didn’t matter that the Pontiac had seen more birthdays than she or that it was a gas guzzler, as long as she could listen to music she was happy. On the other hand, Willow and I were miserable. By the time we pulled up to the strip, we were anxious to begin shopping if it meant relief from the heavy metal beating away at our ears.

  Izzy led us towards a store called “The Gothic Tea Party”, which I considered an oxymoron, but made sense once entering the store. I gazed around at the strange assortment of clothing. The store was filled with clothes that merged designer with classic gothic and punk. I’ve heard Izzy wax on about this store ever since it opened six months ago, but I didn’t really believe anything she had said.

  I was surprised to find that the mirage of apparel appealed to my inner fashionista or at least the tiny part of me that wanted to wear beautiful dresses. It was strange that it took gothic meeting couture to make shopping fun. Next to me, Willow gazed around her in surprise. She met my eyes and we both looked to see Izzy beaming at us.

  Izzy was in her element as she buzzed around the store, collecting dresses in an array of colors featuring mostly black, burgundy, and silver. Occasionally, she would walk up to Willow or me to hold a dress against us to see if it was flattering. During these examinations, she would purse her lips and nod as though having a conversation with her mental fashion twin.

  Willow and I walked around absently, occasionally trailing our fingers against an outfit here and there. The night before Maye had given me enough money to purchase a small wardrobe, knowing that I rarely wanted to go shopping. Maye took advantage of the occasion and made me promise to buy more than just a single dress. I guess that meant I was turning Goth couture. I wondered what Maye would think of my odd choice in clothing.

  Willow paused suddenly and effectively brought me to a stop when I nearly tripped over her.

  “She’s never going to let us live this down, you know.” Willow whispered, nodding in Izzy’s direction. “Maybe we should at least pretend that this is torture.”

  I snickered. “She’ll never buy it. Besides if we do that, we can never come back or she would suspect.” I shrugged. “Did your dad give you enough money to afford this place?”

  I knew that Willow’s parents didn’t have a lot of money; a fact that she was embarrassed about with anyone other than me.

  “I think so. I’ll just make sure I pick something that I can afford. If I have to, I’ll wear something I already own.” When I started to offer to cover the difference, Willow covered my mouth with her hand. “No. I do not accept charity. Do not even think of offering what I know you were about to offer. It’s too tempting and would just make me feel guilty later.”

  “Fine, suit yourself, but if you end up with an outfit you hate because it was the only thing you could afford, don’t take it out on me.” I stuck my tongue out at her before signaling a sales lady.

  A slightly irritable sales woman escorted us to changing rooms. Izzy perched against the room across from mine and delivered the expected exclamations of pleasure at seeing each of us in a wide range of gothic clothing.

  While in the dressing room, I examined myself in the assorted outfits. Usually, I avoided mirrors. When I first came to live with Maye and saw my skeleton frame, I decided it was pointless to assess my image. When I bought my clothes, it was usually at Goodwill, thrift stores or garage sales. Those places did not come equipped with a dressing room.

  I wore a long black skirt that hung to my ankles and had a slit on my right leg that reached the highest point of my thigh. The waist of the skirt ended in a V shape beneath my naval. The top matched the skirts style perfectly. Its sleeves hung off my shoulder like drapes that layered down my bicep. My midriff was barred to an inch beneath my breasts.

  I knew I had matured over the years but was surprised to see a perfect hourglass figure with a strong flat belly. My black hair hung in natural waves around my face and fell to the middle of my back. The light brought out my natural blue highlights. My eyes were captivating. The violet surrounding the iris was the same, but the silver was more prominent. I was surprised to see that my features complimented one another.

  My beauty had been passed to me from my mother. I was almost sixteen and never compared my physique to hers, but I could see the similarities. Ordinarily, I would contain my mass amount of hair in a butterfly claw or ponytail. It was rare for my hair to be loose, and even rarer for me to wear clothing that showed my body to its advantage. I wanted to be attractive, but I wasn’t sure it was worth the cost if the coven began to associate me with my parents.

  Would Maye love me less if she saw my mother looking back at her? Would Ash think less of me if I began dressing like every other teenage girl? Would Willow be disappointed that I had succumbed to the teenage stereotype my worth is judged by my beauty? Would I think differently of myself?

  I promised Izzy I would buy a dress to wear to the bonfire and I promised Maye that I would buy a flattering wardrobe. One of my many rules is to always keep a promise, which means that regardless of the answers to my questions; I would buy the clothes and would ignore the consequences until they presented themselves. I gazed in the mirror a final time, and realized that I would never be comfortable showing my midriff.

  When the three of us left the store we carried more bags than I would have thought possible. Willow fell in love with an outfit that was slightly out of her price range. She allowed me to pay for the difference as an early birthday present, since I usually spent more on her anyhow. She reasoned that this way I was actually spending less money on her. I bought more clothes than I owned in my entire life, and Izzy bought the right to tease us incessantly for the re
st of our lives. Not surprisingly, Izzy was the happiest.

  Izzy paced ahead to unlock the car, while Willow and I were weighted down with bags that hindered our pace. My neck began to tingle, and a cold draft of air trailed down the curve of my spine. Hair flew into my face with an invisible force and I began to sway dizzily. I had the intense feeling that I was being watched. Not just that someone was staring at me; it was as though someone were invading my body. I shook the feeling away and sped towards the car.

  “S, are you okay?”

  I came to the front passenger side door and lowered my hair so that it covered my face. There was no one watching that I could see.

  “Savannah?” Willow pushed against my shoulder, and I shook my hair behind my shoulders to face her. Her brows were furrowed in concern.

  “I’m fine. I just thought I saw someone I recognized.” I attempted a fake smile and slipped into the car.