by Tarisa Marie
“What’s the plan?” I ask him as I make the final step down to the floor.
“Your dad wanted me to help you train today because you have all his and Jacob’s moves memorized. You’ve never fought me so it’ll be like going up against a stranger. Just come at me as if I’m about to kill you. Fight to kill,” he suggests with a shrug.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I giggle.
“Good luck. You’ll be lucky to last two seconds.” He smirks. “I’ve been doing this a bit longer than you.”
“You come at me if you’re the one supposedly trying to kill me.” I smile and begin stretching.
Suddenly I’m staring up at the roof.
“What the hell! I was stretching you could’ve seriously hurt me!” I scold him while jumping up.
“A ravenous vampire isn’t going to give you time to stretch, Ariella. A vampire also isn’t going to give a crap if he hurts you.”
He has a point. I take a deep breath and then nod at him to signify that I’m ready.
He comes at me and I feel a hand on my elbow before I’m on the ground again. How did he even do that?
“Are you using voodoo?” I demand angrily.
“No, I’m just not going easy on you,” he scoffs.
“Dad and Jacob don’t go easy on me!” I shout, a little too much menace in my voice.
“Uh-huh. Either of them can kick my ass in a heartbeat and you have nothing on me,” he taunts with humour in his voice..
Could he be right? Those few times I beat my father and Jacob were they going easy on me? Had every fight we ever had only lasted as long as they’d wanted it to? Suddenly I’m angry.
I attack D swinging one arm around his side and using a foot as leverage around his leg only instead of making the contact I was trying to, I end up on the floor once again.
This time furious, I jump up again and immediately lunge at him again. Then I’m on the floor.
“You’ve only had eighteen years to practice. Eighteen years with the strength of a mere human. It’s not expected for you to be able to be some pro fighter.”
“Why would they go easy on me?” I ask him.
“Well probably so you didn’t get discouraged. Plus if they’d moved as fast as they can in front of you, you’d think they were supernatural or something,” he says jokingly with a half smile.
I roll my eyes.
Suddenly D’s smile fades from his face and he is scowling at me.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You’re bleeding,” he assesses flatly.
I look down at my stinging elbow. He’s right, a thin line of blood is descending to the gym mat down my arm. I wipe it on my black tank top.
“It’s just a little nick.” I shrug, but when I look back up at D he is gone. Does blood make him queasy? Somehow I doubt it. Maybe he went to get me a band aid. I wait a few minutes and when he finally returns he has a piece of bacon in his hand and is shoving it into his mouth.
“You left to get more bacon?” I ask him dubiously.
“You cut my breakfast short.” He smiles halfheartedly. “Get that scrape taken care of?” he asks looking to my elbow.
“Yeah, it’s not bleeding anymore.”
“Then let’s get on with this training. I want to try something. Sit down,” he instructs and takes a seat cross-legged on the mat.
I follow his lead.
“Come closer,” he says motioning me closer with his index finger.
“Is this some sort of trick? Are you going to knock me on my ass again?” I wonder skeptically.
“No and by the way you’re already technically on your ass,” he points out as if I’m stupid or something.
“Yeah.” I agree exasperatedly and scooch closer to him so only about six inches separate our knee caps from meeting.
“Hold your hands out in front of you with your palms up,” he instructs next.
I do as he says and hope we’re not about to play the slap game, the oh so dreaded game we used to play in middle school on the bus and at recess.
After a moment he hovers his own hands a couple inches over top of mine and closes his eyes as if he’s concentrating.
“What are you doing?” I ask him after a moment. “Meditating?”
He scoffs and opens his eyes. “Give me a minute. Shut up for a couple minutes,” he says before closing his eyes again.
I do as he says and sit there like an idiot with my palms up.
Finally he opens his eyes again.
“Well on the plus side I can feel your power. It’s in there. On the negative side it isn’t showing any signs of emerging. It’s like it’s trapped inside of you. Usually when I do this with young witches I can make an assumption as to when they might be able to start using their power. I can’t even get a read on you which is kind of weird.”
“So I’m a dud?” I sigh. I have to admit that I was a little excited that I might be able to do some witchy-voodoo tricks.
“I don’t think so. We just have to find a way to get it to come to the surface. I have a few ideas. Some kids are slow in the progression of being able to use their power. There’s a few remedies we use to speed up the process.” He looks as though he’s deep in thought for a moment before he speaks again. “Have you ever been seriously injured?”
“Uh no, not really,” I answer, confused by the question.
“Sometimes injury can speed up the process because your body will try and heal itself. Witches heal unnaturally fast. It comes as second nature. Sometimes we break kids’ limbs to help speed it all up.”
“You what?! That’s terrible! That’s absolutely inhumane!” I cry.
He chuckles. “Hey, it’s better than not being able to defend yourself because you have no power and so a vampire comes and sucks the life out of you, killing you. You must remember that vampires were created to kill witches. We have to do what we have to do to save the lives of our young. We’re not privileged enough to live freely.”
Even though I’m still absolutely disgusted, I try to understand where he’s coming from but personally I can’t imagine it. Then I understand what he’s really saying. He wants to break my limbs, oh my god.
“No, no way!” I cry out and jump up. “You’re not breaking anything of mine!”
“Come on.” He laughs.
“My father will kill you.".
He rolls his eyes. “Can’t I just like break a couple fingers and see if it’s at least going to do anything?”
“Absolutely not!” I argue.
He laughs again and I find myself scowling at him.
“Fine, there is something else we could try but you probably won’t like that either.”
“What?” I ask curiously.
“I could inject a disease into you and hopefully your body will fight it rather than let it kill you.” He laughs smugly.
I continue scowling.
“No.”
“Okay what if I healed you if your body didn’t react right away. No harm would be done to you. I promise,” he encourages and I can tell that he’s hopeful that I’ll agree to this method of his.
“Where would you get a disease? You can’t just go buy them from a store.”
“I have my ways. Diseases are used by some witches who practice black magic. I know a few dark witches who owe me a favor. One more thing, we can’t tell your dad about this because he really will kill me.” D chuckles excitedly.
“I never said I’d try it,” I correct him seriously as I debate the situation. I can’t pretend that I’m not tempted but I also can’t pretend that I’m totally fine with someone injecting a disease inside of me.
“Well, will you?” he asks eagerly.
“Why do you want to do this so badly?” I ask him, genuinely wondering.
“Because the power that I sense inside of you is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I have to admit that I’m curious. Also, I’d hate to see a pretty face like yours get messed up by a foolish vampire or something. You really s
hould have another way of defending yourself,” he urges and I can tell he’s being completely honest. He truly thinks this will be best for me.
“Will it hurt?” I wonder.
“I don’t know, probably. I’ll try and find the least painful disease that I can.” He snickers to himself.
“And you promise that if my body doesn’t do anything right away, you’ll get rid of it?” I continue to question.
“I promise.”
You only live once I guess. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
Chapter 9
I have no idea why I’ve agreed to do this. Have I lost it? Uh, yeah, Ariella, you definitely have! I just gave my consent to let some guy, who is practically a stranger, inject me with a disease. Pictures I’ve seen in textbooks and things of people dying from smallpox and other terrible things pass through my mind. I’m waiting in the basement for D to return while contemplating my decision. Are we going to do this right here in my basement? Surely there’s a better place to do this. What if it like escapes and infects the whole town or something? Is that even possible? I cringe. I sure hope not.
When he returns after only a few minutes, I have convinced myself that I am in fact crazy. In his hand is a syringe, smaller than I expected I must say, although it’s still rather menacing.
I’m sure my eyes are about to bulge from their sockets because he laughs cautiously and approaches me slowly as if I’m an animal about to be put down. Suddenly I’m not only indecisive or scared, I’m terrified. This is a terrible idea!
“The needle part won’t hurt,” he promises and grabs my wrist.
I shudder. “What is it?” I ask, wanting more information about what he’s going to put inside of me.
“You’d be better off not knowing, trust me,” he answers with a half grin full of sympathy.
“Okay, just do it. How long is it going to take?” I demand while squeezing my eyes shut.
“It shouldn’t take long. Actually if all goes well we should be finished in an hour tops,” he assures me but his assurance doesn’t at all help.
“If all goes well?”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
“You’re about to inject small pox or something in me!” I contradict him.
“True, but it’s not smallpox for the record.”
I still have my eyes clamped shut.
“I’m not sure if you’re more afraid of the disease inside of here or the syringe,” he admits and I hear the syringes cap fall to the ground. Uh oh.
“Both,” I say mindlessly as I envision him slamming the needle into my shoulder.
“Done,” he whispers almost to himself. “You didn’t even bleed.”
Done? I slowly open my eyes expecting this to be some joke. I didn’t even feel it.
“I numbed the area with a small spell before I stuck the needle in because you were being a baby. You’re fine. Lay down on the mat,” he instructs and I follow his direction.
“How do you feel?” He asks after a moment of silence.
“Normal.” I swallow hard. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. Okay, I do know what I was expecting, I was expecting to be in agony from the time the needle punctured my skin.
“That’s not a good sign,” he shakes his head.
“Why not?” Isn’t it a good sign that I’m not super ill right now?
“Because it should only take your body a few seconds to recognize the intruder and attack it. This could mean that it wasn’t recognized and it’s infecting you right now,” he says while grabbing my wrist and counting. Checking my pulse?
“I feel something. I’m not sure what though. Something is definitely happening with your power. It’s kind of vibrating or something like it’s trying to get out.”
“What does that mean?” I ask slowly. Oh my god, this was a terrible idea. Why would I go through with something so blatantly dumb?
“I don’t know,” he answers while looking into my eyes apologetically. I wonder why he’s looking at me that way. Then I feel it, my wrist snaps beneath his grip.
I scream in pain. Holy shit.
“Shh,” he begs calmly while still clutching my wrist. I try and pull it away so I can hold it but the pain is unbearable and I have to give up on pulling it from his grasp, I’m only making things worse. I’m going to kill him. If he was going to bust my wrist couldn’t he have at least numbed it like he did for the stupid little needle? “Sorry.” How many more limbs is he going to break? I wonder erratically, beginning to panic.
My heart hammers in my chest and I feel like puking. I feel tears stream down my face and I begin sweating. God damnit my wrist hurts like something else.
“There we go. Something is happening Ariella, stay with me for a minute longer and then I’ll make the pain go away.”
I feel like using him as a punching bag. I cuss under my breath and use my good wrist to wipe away the sweat dripping down my forehead.
“This is going to get bad, I’m speeding up the effect of the disease,” he warns and the whole feeling like I’m about to vomit things turns into me really vomiting. All over the mat. D wrinkles his nose and then the vomit is miraculously gone. My vision begins blurring and then I’m no longer sitting up anymore. My breathing becomes raspy and my lips become dry. My lungs are too sore to bring in any air. I feel like I’m dying. I really am going to kill him after this. That is, if I get the chance, shouldn’t he be healing me by now? Is he going to let me die?
“Shit,” I hear him cuss but my mind is too lost to hear the urgency. “Stay with me. Just a minute longer, Ariella.”
Everything starts fading to black all too quickly. My vision goes from blurry to black in an instant. Pain shoots through every nerve ending in my body. For a moment I wonder if I’m dead but then another sharp slice of pain rockets through my body. I’m definitely not dead yet.
“Come on, come on. Ariella, open your eyes.” Is the last thing I hear before the pain finally seizes and everything fades away. It fades away only for a moment though because then a bright white light fills my vision although my eyes are closed I can still see it. An intense sense of warmth fills my body and for a moment I feel like I’m in heaven, it’s just so bright.
When the blinding light finally disappeared I realize that I feel no pain. I open my eyes and see D, wide eyed with surprise and...fear? Then the euphoric feeling I’m experiencing turns back into intense pain only this time it’s different. My spine feels like it’s disintegrating. I scream louder than I thought imaginable and then everything goes black again.
Chapter 10
I wake up to D rambling something under his breath beside me. I’m still laying downstairs on the mat only now I feel absolutely fine again. What the hell? I feel better than fine, I feel better than I’ve felt well, ever. It’s a strange feeling like all my cells are dancing. Even my wrist is completely healed. I had my doubts at the end about D coming through with his promise and healing me if I couldn’t manage it but apparently he did eventually come through.
I can’t make out any words but I can tell he’s upset. I sit up, careful not to overdo it in case I’m still ill.
D looks at me as if he’s looking at a ghost.
“What?” I ask finally. “Did it work?”
He jumps up from his spot on the floor and wraps his arms around me in a strong embrace pulling me up off the floor and onto my feet. Surprised, I gasp. Since when is he all emotional?
“What?” I ask again.
“How do you feel?” he demands, pulling back from the hug and staring at me directly in the eyes, his own eyes are huge as if with surprise.
“I’m fine,” I answer him skeptically.
“You scared me. You were out for almost three hours. I thought your dad was going to come back and I was going to have to explain why you were unconscious on the floor.”
“Like I said, I’m fine,” I say again smiling. “I feel ten times better than I did last time I was conscious.”
“Yeah, well, it worked. I can see your light without trying now. It’s bright, brighter than you father’s which is really weird. It shouldn’t be so bright. It must be something about your mixed blood which doesn’t make sense but there’s no other logical answer. You healed yourself.”
“Now what?” I ask unsure while staring down at my hands, they’re tingling like when you lay down funny and lose circulation in them. It’s weird.
“I don’t know. I got rid of the syringe and stuff so your dad doesn’t find out about this. I doubt he would approve of me injecting diseases into his only daughter.”
“So we’re not going to tell him?” I wonder.
“Not about the crap I injected you with. Just tell him that you feel funny and he’ll see your light. He’ll think that it’s happening. Tomorrow we’ll work on moving a leaf or something. I’m not sure how strong you’ll be power-wise. I’m sure you will eventually be able to do enough to at least protect yourself if you have to, which I also hope you’ll never have to do alone. Your light is bright but that doesn’t always signify the amount of power a witch has. Sometimes if a witch’s aura is white it makes their light seem brighter.” he enlightens me.
“So this is it? I don’t feel any different.”
“Yeah, you might feel some tingling in your fingers but other than that you won’t feel much different. Hopefully we can get in some practice tomorrow. Your dad will probably want to be there to watch. Jacob too probably. We’ll make it a party.”
I roll my eyes.
“Your dad should be home soon. He called about an hour ago said he was almost done.”
“Okay, uh thanks for everything.” I murmur awkwardly and wonder if this means I can go upstairs and have a shower now. I stink so bad that I can smell myself. It’s so bad that I want to gag.
“I’m going to make some more bacon,” he informs me, breaking the awkwardness between us thankfully.
I laugh. “How are you not like super fat?”
“I have a killer metabolism,” he jokes and then he’s gone. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to disappear into another room like that, or to Disney World. God would that ever be neat.
