“I just…” I stammered, “I think I just need a minute.”
His hand reached out and took mine in his own. I intertwined my fingers with his and just looked at our clasped hands. “I’ll give you all the minutes you need.” He whispered.
“I was in a car accident a little over a month ago.” I admitted to him. I could feel the knot in my throat already forming.
“Yeah, I know” he replied, shifting his view out the front windshield. The manner in which he said it stirred an inner alarm.
“How do you know?” I breathed, my voice scratched, the curiosity more as to what the town had gossiped about regarding my mother’s death.
“We live in Brooksville, Celia. One thing I’ve learned since I moved here is how fast news travels, and your mom had a lot of friends in this area.” He paused, looking at me again. “The accident was all over the newspaper, along with your picture. I learned about it just like everyone else.”
“I hadn’t realized.” I murmured to myself, vainly wondering which picture they’d chosen to go along with the article.
“I was in an accident once; a long time ago. It took a considerable amount of time for me to be the person I was before then. If it hadn’t been for a friend, I probably wouldn’t be here today.”
“Are you trying to tell me you want to be that person for me?” I asked him sarcastically.
“Don’t knock it. I’m a really good friend. I know how to make soup for when you’re sick, cupcakes for birthdays, and I can even keep up with Calculus.” He chuckled to himself.
“Hmmm…” I pondered where he was going with all this.
“So basically, what you’re saying is that I would be foolish not to be your friend.” I started, shifting so I was comfortably facing him in the leathery seat.
I watched as his body followed mine.
“Absolutely.” He grinned. “But that’s all I should be…your friend.” He added as a warning.
“That’s all I need, Dmitri.” I shot back, my eyes falling back to his hand holding mine. The warmth transferring from each palm.
“Yeah, well…” he stammered, letting go of it as if it was poison. “There are boundaries I suppose I haven’t learned yet.”
“Those should be clear from the start of this friendship. It would make things simpler.” I added.
Nodding his head, he faced the steering wheel and sat just a tad straighter. The idea of a clear friendship with a female obviously challenging him.
“Friends typically have each other’s backs.” I offered as a starter.
He nodded several times, “That will never be a problem…” he trailed off.
With a tilt of my head, “and what might be a problem?” I questioned.
He threw me a sideways glance, “I don’t argue much. I’m not into the drama of it all. These girls here, they seem to thrive on the drama of social life.”
While I hadn’t spent much time with these girls he was referring to, if today was any indication of what I was in store for in the female department, I knew why he wasn’t interested in any of them.
“I get what you mean.” I agreed, “I’m also not much for being treated like a child. If you disagree with me on something, tell me like it is.”
“I think I can do that.” He smiled the gleam in his eye returning.
“…and what almost happened earlier at my house, us almost kissing…we shouldn’t go there. It will get really confusing and I’m too messed up right now to have you messing with my head.”
“You’re not messed up; you’re just dealing with life.” He began. “The path you were on changed, and now you need to find your own path.”
“Sometimes you sound like such an adult. You seem like a completely different person from the boy I met.”
“Am I to take that as a compliment or worry that you think I have a multiple personality disorder?”
I busted out laughing but only because at one point today I think it had crossed my mind that he suffered from something of that nature. “You can take it as a compliment for the time being, but if you do it often I may have to say something to your parents.”
As I giggled at my own statement I realized what I said affected him. The mere mention of his parents had him on edge.
“I’d rather you not talk to my parents at all if it were possible.” And with that, the shadow of darkness and mystery shrouded upon him once more.
“What’s wrong with your parents?” my asking was more to understand his reaction.
“They are not around much.”
“So, you are alone all the time?” I questioned.
“Basically.” he retorted.
“I’m sorry. Sounds like a difficult way to grow up.”
“I’ve managed. It keeps me… in line. It’s when I do something against their wishes that I am faced with a difficult time.”
“For example?”
Again, I noticed an inner struggle. He fidgeted with the wheel and shook his head.
“We all have our demons, Celia. No one is perfect.” Was all he said. He turned the key in the ignition and silenced the humming engine. The soft music that had been playing in the background stopped and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart.
My hand reached out and touched his cheek, instantly making his face turn into the palm of my hand. His eye lids closed, and his lips pressed softly to the inner part of my palm. The warmth of his lips jumbled my reasoning.
“My mother always used to say that perfection is in the eye of the beholder,” I paused, softly and slowly moving the thumb across the softness of his jaw line, “from where I sit, you are pretty darn close, Dmitri.” I sighed softly.
“I think you are going to have to get used to being confused, Celia.” He whispered into my hand, his eyes opening and peering into mine. The hue once more playing tricks with my mind. Were they dark brown, or really a dark blue?
“Why is that?” I asked, the words merely a whisper. My body too seemed to be inching closer to his.
“Because as hard as I try, I’m having a hard time fighting this pull.” He replied just as his lips hovered over mine.
I’d dreamt of a moment like this once. I was being lured into a kiss and my whole body had become powerless, and even if I would want to fight the attraction, I couldn’t, wouldn’t be able to.
He the powerful giant and I the tiny little flower. Pulling me up from the ground, he gripped more than my limbs….he tore my being from its center and kept me as his prize.
I felt the cell phone buzz before we heard the ringer, but regardless, the jolt I made was an obvious signal that I’d become startled by a disruption. With one swift movement I removed it from my back pocket and answered it without looking to see who it was.
“Uh… Hello?” it came out precisely how I felt, annoyed and frazzled.
“Come home.” Aunt Olivia commanded, “Dinner is almost ready.”
My eyes met Dmitri’s, our moment was lost. Team Olivia had scored 2 points against my love life in only a matter of a couple hours.
He nodded his head and got out of the car without saying anything.
“Are you there?” she asked, clearly annoyed by my silence.
“I am. I will be home in a little while.” With that, I hung up.
I got out of the car and found Dmitri waiting for me at the end of his driveway.
“I’m sorry.” Was all I could say, and it didn’t even begin to express what I was feeling. As I reached him, he turned and began the walk.
How can you apologize for being mortified?
“Don’t be. I’m the one who said we shouldn’t be anything but friends, and twice over I’m the one that almost kissed you. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
As we walked, I found myself looking over at him. Are boys so mysterious that we can’t genuinely understand them? I’ve always heard that it’s the female species that is typically found to be the confusing ones, and here I stand, stumped by a guy.
“Don�
��t think too much about Lisa and her friends.” He blurted out randomly.
Once more nodding, I could only agree with him on this one. “They really were nice to me today. I find it really hard to believe that they would spend all that time and energy to be my friend only to ask that I join their silly coven.”
“What do you know about covens, Celia?” Dmitri didn’t look at me when he asked, more out ahead of us.
“Well, only what my mother told me really.” And thinking back to the conversation with my mother I realize that she was really knowledgeable.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, slowing down and taking my arm. I looked up to him and couldn’t put it into words. It was a feeling I was having, like opening a book and not needing to read it because I already knew all the information inside.
It was when Dmitri shifted his position and stood directly in front of me, both of his hands holding my upper arms that I could say anything.
Like a flood, it came out. “My mother was a witch.” And immediately, I broke free to place both hands over my mouth. Shock and disbelief shrouded me.
“How do you know?” he asked, apprehensively. His expression blank, as if applying a ‘poker face’ technique so I wouldn’t know what he was thinking.
I shouldn’t be telling him this.
“Forget I said anything. Thanks for the distraction. I will talk to you tomorrow.” I said plainly, shoved past him and ran home.
CHAPTER Three
Through the picket fence and up the wooden stairs, I hollered for Aunt Olivia the moment the front door slammed behind me.
“What is wrong with you?” she shouted back, coming out of the kitchen.
“Tell me the truth, don’t lie to me anymore.” I yelled, wanting to get straight to the point.
“And what truth would that be, Celia?” she sassed, the back of her hand finding the side of her hip as usual.
I shook my head, “See there, you are deflecting. You’ve been hiding something from me, something big.”
Somewhere in Olivia’s eyes I spotted a flicker of question. She was second guessing herself.
She shifted her weight from one side of her body to the other, a clear sign of being nervous.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, and you need to calm down. We do have neighbors.” She started to turn away from me.
“I know that Mom was a witch, Olivia.” I blurted out. Instantly, she was halted in her spot. She neither looked at me, nor moved in my direction.
“And so it begins,” was all she said.
She walked into the front living room, slowly closed all the curtains and sat on the sofa. The ease of her actions, while odd, made me feel calm about what to expect.
I followed her to the sofa and sat next to her.
She took a deep breath and reached out both arm, over the coffee table, her palms facing down as if she were warming them over a fire.
In a hushed voice she mumbled, Aperio, as she waved her hands in a circular motion across the wooden table in front of us.
As if from thin air, objects I had never seen before appeared on the table. Half burnt candles, filled glass mason jars, bound plant leaves of some sort and a rather old looking leather bound book.
She turned to me and took a deep breath. “Yes, your mother was a witch, but she was so much more than that, Celia.”
For the first time ever, I saw Olivia through a different set of eyes. This truth about my mother explained so much in regards to my aunt and why it seemed she had been behaving so oddly.
Realizing that she had my full attention, she continued, “Your mother was a part of The original coven. It’s history stems back to ancient times, to the dawn of witchcraft itself.” She reached out and opened the book sitting on the coffee table. She traced her fingers on the symbol drawn on the first page.
“This symbol represents The Immortal Coven, with the one true immortal witch.”
“Immortal?” I asked, confused.
“When the circle was bound and the bloodline of the 10 families was forsaken, one of the original witches was scarified in the ritual. Her soul was magnified, and released back into the circle. Their energy became so powerful that they took measures to ensure the longevity of their succession.”
“Succession?” again, a simple easily understandable word left me in need of thorough explanation.
“The moment your mother died, her powers were transferred to you. The circle will always find a way, it is how the magic is immortal.”
“I’m a…” I started.
“Witch… yes.” Olivia finished, the smile on her face soft but almost sad.
That was when my head started to shake. Disbelief would be the understatement of the century.
A million questions started flooding my mind but I couldn’t prioritize them fast enough.
“Before we go into any of this, Celia, you need to understand one important fact.” She began, hesitating only long enough to take my hands into her own. “Your mother did everything she could to protect you from this life and the dangers in it. She wanted for you to live, and be carefree. This world, and everything that it means, is the complete opposite of what your mother wanted for you.”
“She lied to me my whole life, Olivia. You are not protecting someone by lying to them.” The moment I was done saying it I felt horrible. My eyes shot down and filled with tears.
Olivia reached out and rubbed my arms. “Sweetheart, she was buying time, letting you be happy until everything changed.”
My head shot up, “Buying time” I seethed out. “She got hit by a truck, Olivia. Her time ran out and she told me, Nothing!”
The rage quickly filled my every fiber. I stood up and paced the floor in front of the coffee table.
“Her accident is a whole other subject, Celia. Right now we need to discuss what your knowing means for both of us.”
It halted me square in front of her. “What does it mean?”
“They will know that you know. Someone will come for you and take you to the circle. You need to accept this.”
“So I don’t get a say, at all…” I started.
Olivia shot up from the sofa, “You Don’t get a say in this Celia. Your destiny can not be unwritten!” Her voice boomed through the living room.
“You’re a witch too, aren’t you?” I asked plainly.
She didn’t answer at first which took me off guard.
“Yes, I am a witch.” She finally answered as she sat back down on the sofa.
“Are you a part of the same coven?” the question came almost immediately and with equal response, “No.”
“I don’t understand you two are sisters. Why would the powers transfer to me and not to you?”
“Because your mother and I are not blood sisters,” she paused, “I was adopted by a friend of our mothers.” she admitted, looking away from me as if ashamed.
Her reaction forced me to go sit next to her and hold her. Blood or not, she was my only family. I would never willfully hurt her.
“I’m sorry for yelling earlier. I didn’t mean it.” I apologized.
“Don’t worry about it dear, this has just been a difficult situation.”
“So what happens now?” I asked, looking again at the book on the coffee table.
She flipped the pages, inattentively. “You learn what you can until they summon you. You sit tight and finish school.”
“So basically act like nothing has changed? What about the girls that want me to act like a witch with them?” The idea alone felt hopeless.
She shook her head, as if waving off the importance of the question.
Olivia reached out and took the book in her hands and lifted it towards me insisting that I take the book myself. “This is yours now. Little by little the information in this book will become like a second language to you. You mustn’t share it, or let anyone use it. It stays here, charmed by a cloaking spell when you are not in need of it.”
While the book only actually weig
hs a few pounds, I suddenly felt like it was keeping me grounded, much like an anvil would.
“What about the girls and their little witch group? Couldn’t they help me learn all this stuff?”
Olivia huffed and fiddled with the bound leaves at the end of the table. “I know the families, and who comes from an actual witch line. Only 2 of those girls have any craft in them, but they are not yet what they should be.”
“So don’t I just need a few to make something work?”
“You, my dear child, only need yourself. They would need at least three.” Olivia snapped back.
“What about the rest, does it make things worse when you have other people there that are just stand-ins?”
She took a moment to take in what I had just asked. “It should only be the ones with the craft.”
“Who are the ones with the history on their side?” The decision came as fast and with as much ease as I’d never known before.
“No coven crafting, Celia. Nothing over the top, keep it simple. If ever there is a time that you need help, or have done something that, God forbid, is going to cause a problem, you come to me straight away. Do you understand me?”
I was nodding in agreement before she even asked the question. “Yes, absolutely!”
“Fine, Lisa Ericson and Anabel Jensen are the two lines that have actual magic. Their families have a complete history, but I’m not going to go into that now.”
I sighed, looked down to the book and eyeballed the Immortal symbol. “Why do I feel like I’ve been looking at this sign my whole life?”
“That’s because you have seen it. Your mother had a charm on a necklace that she wore all the time. It must be in her things.”
As if almost instinctively, my head tilted to the side, “I haven’t seen this charm in any of mom’s belongings, Aunt Olivia. I don’t have it.”
“Well, we can find it. It will be the first spell I teach you.” She offered enthusiastically.
“I will draw the charm, while you go find something of your mothers. Anything will work.” She said as she took the book from me and withdrew a blank sheet of paper from inside the back cover.
Broken (The Immortal Coven Book 1) Page 5
