Lillith began to sob. She leaned into her mam’s embrace, but didn’t hug back.
Uma pulled away, but held onto Lillith’s shoulders. “Forget about who you might become, and who you were in a previous life. Just focus on being who you are now. You are my lovely, beautiful daughter, who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Lillith shook her head. “I made lightning,” she said. “On the promenade, just now. I made lightning, and fire. I held fire in my hand. Does that sound like good-witch powers to you?”
Uma chuckled. “There’s no such thing as good-witch powers or bad-witch powers. It’s what you use them for that makes you good or bad, not the powers themselves.”
“But it felt good, you know, having that power.”
“I bet it did,” Uma said. “I feel great when I use my powers.”
“But your powers heal people. I’d feel great if I did that, too. My powers are more destructive.”
“My powers could be, too. I choose to heal people, but I could just as easily choose to do the opposite. I could do things such as cause people to have heart attacks, or make a cancerous tumour grow.”
Lillith gasped. “You could do that?”
“Very easily. Everyone’s power can be destructive if they want it to be.”
Lillith breathed out, feeling numb. She walked to the couch and dropped onto it. Uma followed, and sat beside her.
“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?” Lillith asked.
Uma shook her head. “You know everything I know.”
“We need to tell Brody,” Lillith said. That wasn’t a task she was looking forward to.
“He might already know.”
Lillith eyed her mam, confused.
“He was working with Arthur. It’s possible that Arthur told him.”
Lillith looked down. They’d find out soon enough, she supposed. “Does Tristan hate me, now?” The words made her voice tremble slightly.
Uma grabbed Lillith’s hand. “No one hates you, now. Angela sensed that you needed to be alone, so we agreed to do that. He’s coming back tomorrow morning, and spending Christmas day with us.”
Lilith wasn’t confident. She expected he was pleased to have an excuse to leave. She closed her eyes, stifling the urge to scream. She looked at her mam. “Angela sensed I needed to be alone? What does that even mean?”
Uma gave her that look. The one that meant, ‘Oh yeah, you don’t know this, do you?’ It was a look Lillith saw often these days, because she knew nothing. Because no one ever told her the truth or the full story, and because they’d bound her powers when she was a baby, so all of this was completely new to her. It made Lillith angry, that look, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she sat waiting to hear something else that she wasn’t aware of.
Uma smiled. “Angela has a bit of a talent for knowing what people need. You must’ve noticed that.”
Lillith thought back. She hadn’t noticed at the time, but now that she thought about it, Uma was right. Angela always knew what to say and do to make her feel better. She’d shown up with the things that Lillith needed, all her life. She’d always just assumed that Angela was super-organised. Now, she wondered if this was Angela’s special talent, and it made her realise that she’d never asked about that before. “Is that her talent?” Lillith asked, feeling like a bad friend.
“I think so. Cassandra would like her to be a seer, and believes it’s part of that, but I think she’s following in her Dad’s footsteps.”
Lillith’s interest was piqued. No one ever spoke about Angela’s dad. Once, when they were younger, Lillith had asked Angela where her dad was. Angela told her he’d died before she was born. Lillith had never asked again, and Angela never spoke of him.
“What was her Dad’s talent?” Lillith asked.
“He was an Empath.”
Lillith had heard of that. Not from the witch community, but from numerous television programmes and films. “Someone who feels other people’s emotions?” Lillith guessed.
Uma smiled. “Among other things.” Lillith wanted to ask more, but Uma stopped her. “It’s late, and it’s been a long week. I suggest we get some sleep, now,” Uma said.
Uma was right. It was late, and tomorrow was Christmas day. They could talk about this any time. Lillith looked at the presents under the tree. “Can we open a present each, first?”
Uma smiled. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Lillith jumped off the sofa and crawled under the tree, searching for a package that she’d wrapped for her mam. It was a small one, wrapped in shiny lilac paper. She found it, and pulled it out. “Here you go,” she said, handing it to her mam.
Uma smiled and placed it on the sofa beside her, then crouched under the tree herself. She pulled out a big present, wrapped in colourful paper with cartoon Santa’s and penguins on. She placed it next to Lillith, who was still sitting on the floor.
“Thanks,” Lillith said, beaming. The present was rectangular, and felt like a large book. Lillith shook it. Nothing rattled. She tore off the paper, and sure enough it was a big book, bound in black leather, which smelled new. The title read ‘Book of Shadows’ in silver thread. Other than that, it was bare. She looked at her mam, a little confused.
“It’s your own,” Uma explained. “Open it.”
Lillith opened it to the middle pages. They were blank. Then she flicked backwards. all blank, except the very first page, on which her name was written in Uma’s hand. Lillith got it immediately, and tears filled her eyes. “It’s a blank canvas, like me,” she said.
Uma beamed. “You can still use my book of shadows, of course, and you’ll inherit it when I’m gone,” Uma said. “But I thought you’d want one of your own. You can write down what works for you and your powers, and what spells you learn along the way. You can even create your own spells and your own symbol. My family symbol represents my healing powers, which isn’t what your power’s all about.”
Lillith chuckled. “Maybe I need a bolt of lightning?”
“It can be anything you want. You don’t have to decide right now. In fact…” Uma picked up the empty wrapping paper that Lillith had just ripped off, and searched through it. “I’ve even given you some silver thread to use when you think of it,” she said, holding up the thread.
Lillith took the thread. “Thanks, although I’m not sure how to sew thread to the front of a book.”
“You don’t sew it; you bind it with magic. I’ll show you how to do that, when you’re ready.”
Lillith placed the silver thread inside the blank book of shadows, and closed it. “Thanks, Mam,” she said, genuinely. “It’s beautiful, I love it.”
Uma smiled.
“Now open yours,” Lillith urged.
Uma retrieved the small lilac present from the seat beside her, and carefully peeled it open. A necklace fell out.
“Tristan helped me make it,” Lillith said, grinning.
Uma held it up. It was a necklace, in the form of her family symbol. The chain was silver and whitish, and grey gems were set into the symbol itself.
“It’s moonstone,” Lillith explained quickly. “You once told me that your family had some sort of affinity with the moon, so I thought it was appropriate. It also accelerates feminine power and healing, or something like that.”
Uma had watery eyes. She smiled at Lillith, a very appreciative smile. “It’s perfect,” she said quietly. “And stunning.” She put it on immediately. It caught the lights from the Christmas tree and sparkled. It looked beautiful. Uma fingered it, and her eyes filled up again.
“It needs to be charged in a full moon. I think that’s what Tristan said.”
Uma’s eyes twinkled. “I know how to charge Moonstone,” she said.
“Of course you do,” Lillith said, then yawned. The long day was catching up with her. “I think it’s time for bed?” she said.
“Yep,” Uma agreed.
Chapter 5: Christmas Day
Lillith woke up late the next mo
rning. Even the excitement of it being Christmas day didn’t rouse her. It was after eleven when Lillith was awoken by her familiar dream; a flash of green light, and the word Regressus. Lillith sat up, panting and sweating. She looked around her room to remind herself of who she was. Her eyes swept over the pale green walls, the cluttered dressing table, the full-length mirror in the corner and the grey double wardrobe. They found the picture of her and Angela as kids, which made her happy. She smelled the familiar smell of vanilla from candles on her bedside table, then gasped and held her breath.
It’s not a dream, she realised, it’s a memory. She stared into space. Her brain was putting the pieces together. The green flash was magic and the word Regressus was the coven casting the regression spell on her and Brody.
Lillith sat still for a moment, allowing herself to process it. She felt strange. Not angry, nor sad. Maybe a little relieved that she knew what it was all about, finally. Her mind had been trying to tell her for years. Maybe there’d be other memories, locked away inside of her somewhere. Memories of being Lilly. That thought made Lillith shiver, because they’d be memories of a killer. She breathed in, rolled over and checked her phone.
Several ‘Merry Christmas’ messages from friends. She scrolled down and found one from Tristan. She held her breath while opening it. She expected it to be an apology but he’d had to leave message, but it wasn’t. It asked if she was okay, and what time he should come over. Excitement and relief fluttered through her. He still wanted to come. quickly she typed a reply, telling him to come as soon as he was ready. She deliberately didn’t answer the question of whether she was okay or not, as she still wasn’t sure herself. She leapt out of bed, pulled her dressing gown on, and ran downstairs.
Uma and Brody were already up. Lillith could hear them in the kitchen. She entered and saw Brody slumped over the breakfast bar with his back to her. Uma stood at the other side of it, making bacon butties for breakfast, while preparing the turkey. She looked up as Lillith entered and beamed at her daughter.
The large breakfasting kitchen was at the back of their house. The walls were pale lilac, the units, which stretched around three walls were dark grey. The benches and flooring were light grey, there was a large, red AGA stove in the centre of one of the walls and an American style fridge freezer at the end of another – the kind that had a water and ice dispenser. To the left, light came in through glass, double doors, which led out to their modest, west-facing back garden.
The breakfast bar floated in the centre of the room and acted as a focal point. High, glittery, black stools were positioned around it to sit on. It was a relaxed area, where Lillith and her mam had spent lots of time, cradling cups of tea and chatting. It’s also where they ate most of their meals. They had a separate dining room, but that was kept for more formal occasions. They’d be eating their Christmas dinner in there, later today. Lillith painted on a smile. “Merry Christmas,” she sang, as cheerfully as she could.
Brody turned and smiled at Lillith. He was looking a little better this morning. “Merry Christmas,” he replied. His voice was weak.
Lillith put her arm around his shoulder. “How’re you feeling?” she asked.
“Happy to be free,” he said, but there was still no twinkle in his eye.
“Well, that’s a start.”
Uma placed a cup of tea in front of Lillith. “Merry Christmas,” she said.
Lillith smiled. “Thanks, Mam.”
“And how’re you, this morning?”
Lillith shook her head. “I’m having a day off, today. I can think about everything again tomorrow. Today is Christmas Day, and I just want to enjoy it.”
Uma looked concerned, but went back to preparing the turkey.
Lillith cradled her cup of tea. It wasn’t as easy for her to push away her thoughts and emotions as she made out. Everything – her fears, her feelings, and her questions, were still there, and she wanted to talk about it, but at the same time, she didn’t. She wanted to bury her head in the sand for just one day.
Brody seemed to realise what she was thinking. He put his hand on hers. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.
Lillith shook her head, and smiled. Then realised she’d be lying. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said. “But not today.”
Brody moved his hand away and bit down on his sandwich.
Lillith sighed silently. Where was her Brody? The bouncy, optimistic joker. She hoped he’d get back to his normal self soon. A ring on the doorbell startled her. Tristan. She leapt off her stool and bounded towards the front door.
It was Tristan. She felt a little nervous. He was here, but last night he’d heard about her past and she wondered if that had changed his opinion of her? She’d also pushed him away, and not let him comfort her, so she wondered if he’d be angry with her.
Instead, Tristan pulled her into a tight embrace as soon as she opened the door. Lillith felt a surge of relief and love as she hugged back. She felt his strong arms caress her back, and his warm breath over her hair. She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his cold coat.
“It’s like cuddling a teddy bear,” she heard Tristan say.
Lillith opened her eyes and looked down at her fluffy dressing gown. She gave a small chuckle. “For me, it’s like hugging a block of ice. Come in, out of the cold.” She released her hold and beckoned Tristan inside. “We’re just having breakfast. Want some?”
The smell of cooking bacon wafted through the house. Tristan sniffed, thought for a moment, then smiled. “If there’s plenty, I won’t say no.”
Lillith grinned. “There’s plenty,” she said, taking Tristan’s coat and hanging it on the bannister. She noticed that Tristan was carrying a cloth bag full of presents. “I’ll take those, and put them under the tree,” she said. She took the bag and opened it immediately, feeling around inside. “Which one’s mine?”
It was Tristan’s turn to grin. “You’ll find out later.” He grabbed the bag back.
Lillith pouted, pretending to be upset.
Tristan’s expression turned serious. “How are you?” he asked.
Lillith shrugged. “Okay,” she said.
“Really?”
Lillith looked down to hide the tears welling in her eyes.
“Not really, then,” Tristan said, using his finger to lift her chin and look into her eyes.
Lillith loved Tristan’s brown, almost black eyes. They were so full of passion. When she looked into them, she felt a tug deep inside of her, and it was difficult to look away. It was like he could look into her very soul. Lillith’s breathing became heavier and shallower, and her heartbeat quickened. She felt like Tristan’s eyes were stripping her and leaving her naked, but she didn’t shy away from it like she used to. She wanted it, now. Even longed for it.
“You can tell me anything,” Tristan whispered. She noticed that his breathing was heavier, too. Did he feel what she felt?
“I know,” she said. “And I will. Just not today.”
Tristan furrowed his brows. He wasn’t understanding.
“I just want to have a normal Christmas. I can deal with things tomorrow.”
He relaxed his frown. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Lillith could feel his breath on her face. Her body tingled and she held her breath.
“I’ll put these presents under the tree,” Tristan said, smiling. He walked into the sitting room. Lillith took a few moments to breathe again, and went through to the kitchen for breakfast.
Christmas day passed too quickly. Lillith was successful in pushing everything out of her mind for the day. Thoughts crept up on her, but she refused to let them linger. She could think about it all again tomorrow. Today, she just wanted to have fun.
Afternoon turned to night, and everyone started to get tired. Angela and Cassandra left. Brody went to bed early, and Lillith decided to walk Tristan back to his caravan.
They walked along the promenade instead of the path, so they were closer to the
sea. There was hardly any wind, which meant that the sea was quite calm. It wasn’t millpond-calm like some seas can be, but the waves swelled rather than crashed onto the shore. It was still cold. Frost twinkled on the path and railings, and Lillith’s nose felt numb. Tristan held her hand as they walked. Neither of them spoke. Lillith didn’t mind; it was a comfortable silence. She breathed in the fresh, salty air, and listened to the methodical movement of the waves, instead.
A giggling noise broke Lillith’s concentration, and she looked into the distance to see another couple walking towards them. They looked a similar age to her and Tristan. The boy had his arm around the girl, and the girl was giggling. They looked care-free. Normal. Lillith stared at them; a feeling tugged at her insides. Lillith breathed deeply, and watched as the couple as they passed by. The girl was still giggling, and it was like they hadn’t even noticed that anyone else was on the promenade.
“Looks like they’re in the first throes of romance,” Tristan said.
Lillith’s stomach sank. “We never had that, did we?”
Tristan squeezed her hand again. “We never had the chance.”
Lillith breathed out.
“But we’ve got something much stronger,” Tristan said, in a chirpier tone.
Lillith looked up and smiled. “It would be nice, though,” she said.
“What would?”
“To be normal. To have space for romance.”
Tristan shrugged. “Normal is overrated.”
Lillith smiled. “Is romance over-rated, too?”
“Nah, we should always make space for romance.”
Lillith laughed. “We haven’t done well so far. We haven’t even had a proper date.”
“We had hot chocolates together when we first met.”
Lillith smiled. She remembered it well.
“And we had tea and cake at the Rendez-vous café, just down there. Do they not count as dates?”
“Both were unplanned.”
“Those are the best kind of dates.”
Ashes: Witches of Whitley Bay Book 2 Page 4
