Even though I am letting my feet carry me wherever they want, I know where they are going to take me. The path is so familiar even though I haven’t been this way in a couple of years. I can’t pinpoint the day I stopped going to visit my parents or why. I just grew up, and it happened. But I need them now more than ever.
The cemetery is about a fifteen minute walk, and I get plenty of odd looks on the way. Most of winter is dry here, and I happen to be out walking without my hood on one of the less than five days it will rain during this season. But I don’t even look in anyone else’s direction. I feel like a ghost sliding through the slick streets until I see the old, creaky gate, bent and broken a bit like my heart is.
I follow that misshapen heart all the way to the back where more ground has been bought and cleared so there is more room for the dead. They just keep piling up. Though, it isn’t really fair that my parents even have a space at all.
It’s a small one, shared by both their names on a tiny stone. Loving Parents is all it says. I know they aren’t in there. Their resting place is in Salt Lake City, but this has always been a comfort for those of us that need to be closer to them for just a moment.
I wonder when the last time was my uncle came here.
I fall to my knees in the muddy spot in front of the gravestone, not worried about anything underneath as I know there is nothing there. And I don’t believe in angry spirits anyway, not like that. All the angry spirits are alive and well, apparently ruining the lives of teenage witches.
"Mom, Dad, I am at the academy," I tell them, my voice pitiful as thunder sounds overhead. My lip trembles not just with the tears I am trying to hold back but also because it is getting cold as I get soaked in this cemetery. I almost miss the snow that I left behind. It doesn’t create quite this kind of misery. "But I never thought it would be like this."
I put my face in my hands as I begin to cry, really truly cry, but it's useless as my hands are soaked from the rain. It just mixes with my tears.
I don’t know what I was hoping for. It’s not like their ghosts are going to show up and give me advice. And what advice could they give me anyway? They surely never knew what it was like to not be good enough and to be a screw up. They never would have gotten themselves into this kind of trouble. They chose to be hunters, thinking they were saving the world. A couple of regular heroes. My father even got the chance to die a hero.
My mother just died pregnant and sad, but even she had her time fighting demons and the rest of the world’s scum to show for her short life.
I look up at the sky, my eyes clearing from the salty tears with a new thought. A thought about my mistake.
I know what my mistake is now.
My mistake wasn’t trusting some cute boy at a party I wanted to dance with.
It wasn’t going with my cousin to a party on my eighteenth birthday when my uncle told me no. Those things were living my life, and sometimes things just happen while you're trying to follow through with plans.
My mistake is the fact that I have never done anything to make myself proud or to leave my mark on the world. I am no hero.
I am just a scared emo girl who has become a hermit since the death of her parents.
What a joke would my ancestors think seeing that I was a Graywood attending a human school?
Yes, I was a minor and under my uncle’s care, but I had a say. I could have told him at any point I wanted to be part of the witch community. I could have been studying what I wanted to do with my life. I didn’t have to be a hunter, even though that would be following in their footsteps. there are many ways I could have been on my path to making a mark. Instead, I coasted along in a small bubble to be safe and comfortable.
And maybe if I had not been so safe all the time I would have known better than to take a drink from that boy. I would have known what could happen to me.
But now it’s too late, and playing the what if game will do me no good.
I pull out my wand, hissing in annoyance at how it is getting wet in the rain, but I manage to get a spark from it anyway.
I use the rain to my advantage and fashion a tiny garden of irises in front of my parents’ gravestone. I don’t care that it will look strange to someone. They will think someone planted them or that the plot is haunted. At least they will leave it alone then.
"Thanks Mom and Dad. It’s time to do something with what I have been given."
I make my way back to the house, tracking my sopping wet puddles from the living room to the bathroom. "Where have you been in this, Riley?" my uncle asks as he sees the mess I am making of his floor. It’s funny it takes that to get an acknowledgement from him.
"To see Mom and Dad," I say matter of factly. He knows what I mean, and I can see the twinge of guilt on his face. It pains me, but I am not going to comfort him. I want him to know he has hurt me and feel that and maybe wake up. And if he doesn't, he has his own daughter to go to. Now that I realize I was never his, that he was just on loan, I don’t feel so jealous now of anything Vivi is getting. If anyone should be jealous, it is her.
I shut the door to the bathroom and start sloughing off all of my wet clothes, getting down to my poor black bra that’s seen better days. But it will have to do. I don’t have time to dig for another one or dry this one off more.
I open the other bathroom door, the one that leads into my room, and slide my hand over the wall until I can find the light switch, flipping it on before walking inside. I already have my dress hanging on my doorknob, picked out just for this a few days ago. It is a deep red velvet, and I have a matching lace choker that I found at a discount jewelry store while I was at the mall.
All by myself, mind you. I really missed Jake then.
As I throw my socks into the growing flood of wet clothes in the bathroom and exchange my underwear for a fresh pair, my phone dings as if on cue. Is that Jake? He is probably wishing me a happy Yule since he knows we are celebrating tonight. He has kept his promise to keep in touch with me, thank goodness. Otherwise, I would be going crazier than this.
I’d be full on straight jacket material.
But instead, it is a number I had almost forgotten about being in my phone. He hasn’t called or texted, probably giving me my distance. I didn’t exactly make it clear that I was on the same page as him when we parted.
But his message brings an instant smile to my face that is so foreign it aches.
Hey, Riley, what are you up to?
I bite my lip, having an idea. I slip on my dress and fishnets then my choker before doing the finishing touches with magic. My hair always cooperates better this way. Curly hair is hard to deal with sometimes. Then, I take a selfie with my phone, something I don’t usually do, snapping a shot to send to Kagan.
I caption it with: Getting ready to celebrate Yule with family. :)
I feel a little extra putting the smiley face in there. After all, I was just bawling my eyes out in front of my parents' fake grave, but are we close enough to talk about those things yet? I don’t want to overwhelm him.
Wait, when did I become one of those girls that over thinks every little thing I say? Hell no, I am not doing that.
My phone dings, and Kagan has already replied.
Wow! You look amazing. I hope you are related to every single guy there.
I giggle and head back into my room to grab my bag when I hear a scratching at the door. I open it and take a peep to see that Jinx is actually there, meowing and scratching to get in. He leaps onto my bed, and I shut the door again, sighing as I sit on the bed next to him and begin scratching him behind his ears like he likes.
"What, get bored of Vivi already?" I ask him, rolling my eyes at myself. I never thought I would be talking to a cat like this, even a familiar.
Happy Yuletide!
I look at my phone to see I have also gotten a message from Jake now as I expected. I stand up and offer for Jinx to hop in my bag, not wanting to get his little, white hairs all over my new dress. they will cling
to this velvet like magnets.
You too. Hope you get to see your whole family.
I try not to say anything too incriminating. I don’t know if the Magistrate taps phones or anything, but I don’t want them to think I am encouraging them hiding his fugitive mother.
"We're leaving!" Vivi calls, and I follow her voice, not looking up as I shoot a text back to Kagan as well.
Don't worry, kinda wish you were here. It's been a rough time for me being back.
I force myself to send it as I worry over what he’s going to think. The first time he texts me over break, and I am being a Debbie Downer. Not exactly the impression I want to give, but if I can’t lean on him, then whatever thing is between us is useless.
Sorry. You can call me and talk about it later if you want. Dad's not here, anyway. Always busy.
I hold the phone close to my chest as I climb into the car, Jinx trying to rub his head against my arm as I do.
I will call you after.
Sounds good. Can’t wait to hear your voice.
Chapter 12
I am sitting on the floor near the fireplace and against a love seat. The house is so packed I don’t even have to run into my uncle and Vivi if I don’t feel like seeing them. Vivi has been in the kitchen with her mother most of the time while my uncle has been playing poker with some of the other men. I have enjoyed being in the living room with the familiars and my cousins. Everyone is talking about the dumb things that have happened throughout the year and laughing about it, and Joanna luckily hasn’t brought up the party even once. There are familiars everywhere, going around to get scraps and love from all of us. This is the energy I needed right now.
The lights suddenly go off, and a few of us pull out our witch lights, knowing it is time for the Yule log. It may seem like a silly tradition, but the familiarity of things like this are sometimes the best parts. This is when the fun really begins.
Vivi's mother brings the Yule log over to the fireplace and lights it with magic, bringing it flaring to life. On a table to my far right is a large candelabra that will be lit directly from the Yule fire.
"C’mon, Riley, you need to go light the candles."
"What, me?" I ask, shaking my head. It is supposed to eb the youngest who lights the candles. "Isn’t Roxanna here?" I crane my neck looking for Joanna’s niece by way of her older brother.
"She’s only five!" Joanna laughs. "She is not going to be playing with fire."
I push myself off the floor, feeling strange that I am now on display. This is an important part of the night, and all eyes will be on me. In years past it didn’t bother me. I have become an expert at doing it quickly and without burning myself, but this year feels different. I don’t necessarily belong anymore. I am not just a Graywood witch. They must know something is going on by now. My uncle is not necessarily a great secret keeper no matter how private he would like to be.
I take the Yule log and carry it carefully over to the candles, trying not to trip anyone while also keeping the fire under control. Being lit by magic means it could easily get out of control, even more so in my hands.
I lower the flames to the candles, getting all of them in a quick swoop to a round of applause. I nod my head and go to throw the brick into the fireplace, instantly lighting the room up with the candle and the warmth of the fireplace.
"So, who’s telling the first story?" I ask as I sit back down, Jinx comically strutting himself in front of the warm fire.
"I'll go!" Joanna volunteers - figures, and we begin the tale of some kids in woods haunted by witches who died. It isn’t scary to me, but some people still flinch and shiver at the right moments. It’s all in good fun and part of the season. I hug my knees to my body as I listen, contented in this space at the very least. I can worry about confronting my uncle about his behavior tomorrow.
It's late when we finally get back, and Vivi and I both fall asleep in the back seat on the short ride back to our house. But I am determined as I drag my feet inside to still make that phone call I promised to make. Even if Kagan is not awake, I will have done what I said I would.
I mutter my good nights, letting Jinx go to sleep with Vivi. He won’t get much more time with her since I go back in a week, might as well let them have their time together.
I kick off my shoes and tug off my fishnets, letting my hair down. With a flick of my wand, my makeup is cleaned off, and I am free to tug off this dress and replace it with my Jack and Sally pajama set complete with fuzzy socks. Because who can go to bed in winter without fizzy socks? I dive onto my bed and dial Kagan’s number, half expecting him not to answer since it is after midnight.
"I was starting to wonder if you did find someone to sweep you off your pretty feet and wouldn’t call," is the first thing he says after only two rings.
I cover my laugh with my hand as not to disturb anyone else with it. I don’t think I am ready to broach the subject of a boyfriend with my uncle yet, especially when we are barely on speaking terms. "No, we were just singing and telling ghost stories all night," I tell him, sprawling out across my whole bed and making motions with my legs like I am making a snow angel.
"Typical Yule stuff, then. I hope we get to do that before we come back from break. Though, I think everyone assumes I grew out of it."
"So, you really haven’t done anything over the break? Like your dad hasn’t been there?" I ask him. He and Jake make me feel almost lucky for my situation. At least my family is around.
"Yeah, but it’s not by choice. The Magistrate doesn’t exactly get days off. They stagger time off so they can be with their families. But it isn’t like they all understand because they don’t all have families." I nod, knowing he means Reyes. Having been turned into a vampire in his late 20s had left little time for him to build a family first. His line ended with him. "So, tell me about this bad day or week you've been having."
I turn on my side, still not sure how to approach this without killing the conversation entirely. It’s some really heavy shit.
"I don’t want to bore you or being your mood down..." I trail off, giving him an out.
"No, I understand it must be hard being back after what happened to you. I don’t know all the details, but obviously, I know what you are. Your family must be conflicted about that."
I am taken aback realizing that he doesn’t know how it all went down. Everyone around me seems to know everything, and I have hated exposing myself in classes, but he wasn’t there for that. He has just accepted me being a Blood Witch as a fact. That must mean something. So, I tell him the story, trying to leave out the things that will make him jealous, which is silly, since not only did it happen before I met him, but how can he be jealous of a demon?
"Wow, while I get your uncle’s concern, I doubt either of you were thinking about a demon showing up to the party and turning you. You probably already know this, but demons are so persuasive. I don’t see how the evening would have gone any different other than him killing you for resisting. I think you would have had to drink his blood one way or the other."
"I never thought of it that way." Was that the reason I was off the hook so easily? Not that learning to be a hunter is easy, but I wasn’t killed on the spot. "You have no idea how much blame I have caught from everyone including myself over this."
"I think I have a bit of an idea. the staff does talk, not realizing I could easily go to a student with something they have said." Ugh, teachers talk about me? "It isn’t all negative, but so many have a preconceived notion about Blood Witches. I think it depends on the circumstances. Rehabilitation is clearly possible. I don’t think I have seen you make a move to hurt someone even once, and neither has that friend of yours, Jake."
"I just wish my uncle saw it that way. We have hardly talked since I got back. Same with my cousin. It’s all small talk or complete avoidance. I don’t know how to get it back." My voice is whiny, and I hate the sound of it. "Sorry, I don’t mean to burden you with this. It’s my problem."
"No, you’re fine." He chuckles into the receiver. "I think it will have to be you to break the silence. It may not even be what you think."
I slap my forehead, knowing that’s what I need to do but dreading it. "Okay, then, I will sleep on what to say."
"Goodnight, Riley."
His voice rings in my head as I close my eyes and set my phone on my nightstand. I'll have to call Jake tomorrow too and catch him up on everything. Finally, I feel like I am building some kind of life. And once I get back to Paranormal Hunter Academy, I am determined to do better with my classes and be the best hunter I can.
***
The next morning, I am waiting for two hours, my leg shaking nervously as I sit at the table and hope that my uncle is going to join the land of the living. Vivi even comes and goes, headed to see some of her friends for the holidays, I guess. But after all this time, he is still not in here.
I stand up with a huff, taking off in the direction of his room. Even if it takes cold water, I am going to get him out if bed, but then I practically smack right into him as he turns into the hallway. There is a box in his hand which I assume is full of more papers for work. I eye him and block his way into his office. I am not going to let this go on any longer.
“I can’t keep living like this.”
“Like what?” he asks.
“I didn’t take you for being the childish type. You know just what I mean. I might as well not even have come home. If I can even call this place that anymore.” I challenge him, my arms folding over my chest. He is not getting away with this behavior like he hasn’t raised me all these years. I can’t believe this.
“Now, you know that isn’t fair, Riley. This will always be your home.”
“Then, treat me like this is my home!” I below, and it comes out too strong, a gust of wind filling the hallway. This is the first sign of my powers I have seen after months of having it, and I am using it by accident. Small papers fly out of the box he is carrying and disperse through the air before landing on various patches on the carpet. When I look down at the one that landed closest to my foot, I see that it is not just a paper. It is a photograph, an old polaroid of my parents.
Blood Witch (Paranormal Hunter Academy Book 1) Page 8
