Death's Primordial Kiss (The Silvered Moon Diaries Book 1)

by Romarin Demetri

  Rose

  I didn’t have the advantage that other hopeful initiates did because neither of my parents had been members of the Coven and didn’t push it on me like it was my destiny. Witch families in London were often trained in their element before they could even decide if they wanted it or not, and witch lines planned pregnancy around predictions of openings for their element. And if you got kicked out of the Coven? Your family could disown you, just as my family friend Onyx’s flesh and blood did over twenty years ago. He left before his time was up. Onyx had been fully inducted as an Earth witch, but his mom still didn’t talk to him to this day.

  Part of me wished my parents would have pushed me more, because I certainly hadn’t practiced water as obsessively as Helaine. In the wake of my ill-preparedness, I had forgotten I was holding my own wheel of fortune card concerning powers from my non-witch side. Though I looked human—despite my eyes—I wasn’t of the one-hundred percent variety. My powers came with consequences, none of which affected me presently, though there would come a time… Along with empathy, my claim to being a Changeling was dominion over ice, an advanced water technique.

  Before you assume that my ice powers would have me sliding an avalanche off the stage at auditions, my abilities were only strong enough to frost a small houseplant to death. Granted, if no one else used ice during the practical audition, I still might stand out. It’s not that I wanted to be so unprepared, it’s just that this wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. My two years of college prep were about to mean absofrigginloutely nothing.

  Fortunately, even though my parents had never been witches, one of my close family members had served for four years. I called him so early in the morning that he didn’t answer, but I knew he was sure to return my call when he saw the morning’s paper, and he did.

  On my way to his house for tea, it had felt like the last few sleepless hours took place over the course of weeks, my mind mulling over how this happened and what I could do to fill the vacancy. Maybe it was my over-active imagination fixated on how this even happened, but I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how the water and fire elements got kicked out for having a relationship. How could they have lost their places when it had been okay for Coven members to date for twenty years now?

  I wouldn’t admit to anyone that dating was on my mind, not when I had to be as focused as ever. And while I had to be choosy in accordance with my powers and the Changeling curse—which isn’t as big a deal as it sounds, really—I wouldn’t settle for anyone I’d met. My peers could judge me for all I cared. I’d do what I wanted. I wasn’t innocent of passing my own judgment on Fire and Water for putting their jobs on the line for each other. I reminded myself that viewing their loss as my gain was just me being competitive. Sure, if someone landed a kick to my sparring helmet, I’d be the first to tell them it was a nice shot, but this was different. I wanted to be the next witch to fight for London. Unfortunately, my headspace was preoccupied with competition and guilt playing tug-of-war with my emotions.

  I was still dressed in my same Judas Priest t-shirt and jeans from the night before, and grabbed my hooded purple raincoat on my way out, hanging it over my shoulders like a cape just in case I would need it. I didn’t get cold. Changelings never did, but I’d like to keep water from frizzing my blonde hair out if it decided to sprinkle. My kubaton was the only thing I kept in my coat pocket, a blunt object as long as a pen but thicker and metal. Most people had no idea what it was—save cops—and while I had never used it in self-defense, I felt safer with it on me, and my Grandmaster had insisted I carry it.

  “Grandpa!” I yelled, launching myself into his flat to hug him as soon as he opened the door. He wasn’t a hugger and patted me lightly on the back. I tugged at my old t-shirt, whose hem just barely touched the top of my jeans. “Can you believe it? I didn’t think this would happen. I thought after the last induction I remember, when Earth and Air got in, that the next opening wouldn’t be until I was twenty-two, two years too late. I would have enjoyed school—I’m pretty sure—but this, this is even better!”

  “Slow down, Rose,” he lectured. “Sit with me for tea and we will talk this through.”

  I unzipped my boots and sat down at the tiny table.

  “I hope you caught everything in my rambling phone message,” I told him, glancing around the space. Grandpa lived by himself, and though the flat was sparsely decorated, I saw varying blue colors all around me. “Sorry it was so early when I called, but you’re the only one I can talk to about this.”

  “I have to be there for my only granddaughter,” he said with a doting tone. “And I’ll do anything I can to help you get into the Coven. You are the only eligible one in our line right now.”

  “And Helaine…” I said, disheartened, pulling the lid off of the teapot to see what kind he brewed, “We’re each other’s competition. Is there any chance that we can get in as Water and Water?”

  “Rose, creativity is your strong suit, however, traditions stand. It would unbalance nature and go against how the Coven has worked for hundreds of years, even in the Lightless Years.”

  I covered the steam of the sweet mango tea back up, glancing at my warped reflection in the two-serving teapot. A blonde blur with violet eyes. I hadn’t practiced my Changeling powers much either and had spent the past few years pushing sad or uncomfortable emotions aside instead of embracing them. Perhaps my Changeling blood would be enough. Perhaps it wouldn’t.

  “But Helaine was raised by a witch, and Helaine’s practiced way more than I have.”

  “There is something I should tell you,” grandpa said in a stern tone. There’s something you need to know, and your parents won’t be happy that I told you.”

  “I don’t understand how you guiding me would anger them,” I said, though it wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t the biggest fan of my dad. When you put the two of them together, they worked in harmony by politely debating the other’s prompt.

  “You’re about to see why,” he responded gruffly. “I think you should know, Rose...”

  I paused with my fingers curled around the teacup, looking up, waiting for him to tell me.

  “By prophecy of the witches’ Seer, you’re destined to be the most powerful force we’ve ever seen in the Coven.”

  “Ever?” I nearly yelped. Grandpa was as trustworthy as he was unexcitable. It wasn’t unheard of for Coven members to come from supernatural families, but I didn’t know how I could have been projected to be so powerful when I hadn’t even inherited my mom’s powers. I was a witch with Changeling’s blood. Poison, flammable blood. That was it.

  “Yes, the most powerful witch ever. The Seer wasn’t asked specifically by your mother. She volunteered the information, which is something a Seer is never supposed to do.”

  “But to have spoken with the Seer, my parents would have had to go to the witches’ island.”

  “They did.”

  “How…” I shook my head. I didn’t like secrets, and this prophecy was more important than how my parents, who were never witches, were able to visit The Isle of Shrouded Souls. “Why would my parents go to such great lengths to hide it from me?”

  “They wanted you to make your own choices in life, and not feel like your destiny was out of your control, but from a young age, you always knew. You always wanted to be in the Coven. They knew all this time that it’s where you need to be, but they wanted you to feel that you have a choice. In their defense, no one knew they went to the Isle, and it was better kept a secret at the time. They’ve politely and consistently reminded me not to tell you, but you’re an adult now. You have the right to know now that it’s come up.”

  Grandpa did have a point. That’s not something he could have written in my birthday card last March.

  “I’ve always had this sense that I need a purpose in life, even at eighteen, and you’re telling me that this prophecy is why?”

  “It very well could be what drives you. I know you have the water witch intuitio
n, but your focus and sense of justice are seen in those who are meant for something big. The duality makes you an enigma, and the older you get, I see it more.”

  I knew I was different than people my age, and Helaine on multiple occasions had accused me of being too mature, though it was hardly an insult. Sometimes I was disciplined and responsible, but other times I took risks when they suited me. My powers as an empath were what I credited with keeping me balanced, and I never felt better than anyone for being able to empathize. I never felt smarter than anyone for landing my scholarships either. But here I was, the child of a prophecy? What gave me the right to think that I was more special than anyone else?

  “Me. Are you sure?”

  “The Seer is seldom wrong, and Delilah, the one who foretold of you, has the best accuracy we’ve ever seen. She is still at The Isle of Shrouded Souls today. Knowing things you shouldn’t is an honest way to get the things you need in the underground. The witches don’t just have power, they have information that sets them ahead. You’ll pass the initial screening process with flying colors and you’ll be allowed to compete as an initiate hopeful on the autumnal equinox.”

  “I already sent in my petition for tryouts, and I’ll study hard to pass the history and practical for the initiation competition... but I feel like I’m betraying Helaine.”

  “We’ve had to compete against our friends for centuries, and in time, you’ll be forgiven. I had to, and my best mates understood when I was initiated. I think Helaine of all people will understand. You’re practically sisters.”

  “She’s the sister I never had,” I told him. “I love her so much and I don’t want her to hate me for wanting this, or getting a spot in the Coven without her. It’s ten years of my life that I can’t share everything with her.”

  I felt my eyes grow warm but stopped full-on tears from forming. I was born under a water sign, and I had to trust in the Mage who foresaw me coming into my power. Water had always been mine. Spirit was always supposed to be Helaine’s element. I was the one in luck here—or destiny was involved I supposed—and I had to defend the decision we made together, even though it left a twisted knot somewhere between my stomach and heart.

  “You’ll both be fine,” he promised me.

  “I need to practice water more,” I said in a panic, curling the arch of my foot around the bar at the bottom of the chair.

  “Rose, as long as you show them that you have the aptitude for being a witch, any small display of controlling water will please the Coven. You can still control ice can’t you?”

  “Yes, as long as they don’t see using my Changeling powers as cheating.”

  I focused on the teacup in front of me, bringing the characteristics of water to the front of my mind in the form of emotions. I knew every element’s driving forces, and the emotional, balanced, and receptive qualities of water were the ones I focused on. I tamed my panic and took in the cool blue hues of the flat, placating my worry with the innate powers of ice—and if I dared to admit it, maybe even trusting in the fate of the prophecy. As a half Changeling and half witch, I was born to fill this role. A swift wave of my hand hovering over the porcelain was all it took to ice over the drink, coaxing a cracking sound from the block of mango green tea. I already possessed an advanced technique by using my active power, a power water witches didn’t even think of trying until their second year in the Coven.

  “Don’t you shatter my teacup, Rose,” Grandpa warned.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, knowing the risk was there, even though I created ice with calm energy. “I’m not perfect at using ice by any means, but I’ll try my best. I spent all of this time preparing for college and in martial arts, and I had no idea I’d have to compete for this equinox.”

  “Even though your water isn’t perfect, it’s in your blood, and when you’re initiated, the power will increase. There are two parts to the competition. Focus on the history and answering their trivia correctly. That’s when you get to use your voice and really charm them. The acting Coven members decide, so if they see something they like in you—and usually it’s because they sense goodness and loyalty—then you’re in. Those two traits are pronounced in you.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile. My grandpa didn’t show a lot of outward pride or affection for me, but he didn’t need to. “Do you think they’d know about the prophecy?”

  “There’s a chance. That would be more than enough to secure your element, as the Coven is the best place for a powerful witch. If you tell the wrong people though…”

  “Message received,” I said with a wry smile.

  “Despite Delilah’s prophecy, it’s best you study hard.”

  “I will! Looks like I have to go study, my tea’s cold,” I said, getting to my feet. I had left a tinted lip balm stain on the rim of the porcelain like an oath, a seal of poisonous saliva that punctuated the price paid for powers like mine. My whole life, being a Changeling made me different, but now, being a witch would solidify who I was to become.

  “Grandpa, there’s one more thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “The paper said that Water and Fire got kicked out of the Coven because they were romantically involved, but since the changes it’s allowed, as long as it’s disclosed and doesn’t cause danger. It’s not grounds to dismiss someone unless it’s a rare case. There isn’t any imminent danger in the underground right now, either... It’s strange… ”

  “It’s odd indeed,” he agreed. “And I think there’s something else going on. It’s more than likely that they could have been… well… framed. At auditions, you’ll see firsthand how ugly witch families can get when it comes to securing a place in the Coven.”

  I glanced to the one window in his flat as if they were listening in. No one second-guessed the Coven, but then again, grandpa wasn’t afraid to go against what they thought was right, or out speak about it.

  “Do you think the other Coven members might have gotten rid of them?”

  “Not the group we have now, in all honesty. It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone with specific interests behind this. Vendettas can go back centuries in our world—look at the Changelings and Spriggans—and anything is possible with enough animosity. Gregory and Maddi, the eldest members, are well-liked, and I can’t see them needing to take shit—excuse me—from blackmailers, and I can’t imagine they’d resolve to even consider being used as instruments in a large plan.”

  “And the third member?”

  “He—or possibly she— I can’t seem to recall information on… I wouldn’t be so worried about any spirit element because it’s nearly impossible to corrupt them.”

  So grandpa didn’t know who Spirit was. I didn’t either. I had been following the Coven almost religiously, and if I didn’t remember, magic was at play here.

  “Grandpa, do you have newspaper articles about the Coven going back five years or so?”

  “Do I?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Can I see them, please?”

  Grandpa opened the drawer of his desk and rummaged through a stack of articles.

  I carefully tore through them for twenty odd minutes, and there wasn’t a picture, a mention, or a caption concerning the Spirit element. It was like Spirit didn’t exist. Just like how the witches wanted it to be in the old days before the changes.

  “Something is going on here,” I voiced, even though grandpa’s curiosity hadn’t ebbed the last twenty minutes. How did someone have a right to mess with another’s memories? With my memories? I had to be prepared enough to impress the three Coven members at auditions. Not two. The Coven lived by the words of perfect love and perfect trust, and I knew now that I was running right towards a billowing storm of distrust. Spirit was the indistinguishable face of a shadow, the culmination of Helaine’s ruined chances to be her element.

  “That is odd, no doubt,” Grandpa agreed. “Whatever is going on could be related to this dreadfully nauseating love story about Water and Fire.”

&
nbsp; “I believe you were the subject of a dreadfully nauseating love story once upon a time ago yourself, Grandpa Dave.”

  “We all are if we’re lucky,” he said with a flat smile. “Rose, you have to be careful.”

  “I will be,” I told him.

  And I’d be careful; careful for myself, my fellow Coven members, and all innocents—right after I regretfully broke my best friend’s hope into a million little pieces aimed at stabbing her in the back. I wouldn’t be there to put her back together, and as she faded from my photographs and memories, I hoped that she could forgive me more than I would be able to forgive myself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Karma

  Helaine

  I wanted peace and quiet after going to group at The Hallowed Locus, but in my house, it didn’t matter what I wanted, it just mattered what they thought I should want. Again, I did not live in a normal family, and nothing about living at The Hallowed Locus could ever be typical.

  Going to the peer group three floors below left me on a short leash, one that wouldn’t let me reach the ground safely if I flung it out of my fifth-floor bedroom window in an attempt to escape. My contingency plan (the one my parents didn’t know about) was tucked away under my pillow in paper form, as if its presence would give me good dreams. I’d welcome any premonition of the plans I had to leave the minute I turned eighteen.

  I unlocked my apartment door and slammed the heavy, impenetrable gateway to solitude loudly behind me. I hung up my jacket on one of the hooks after pocketing my keys.

  “I came here straightaway after Group,” I mumbled to the woman dressed in black, sitting on the couch of our flat.

  Well, she was actually sitting on the arm of the couch, maybe so she’d appear taller than she was. Her red hair was pulled off of her shoulders with wisps around her face, and she had discarded her crimson fifties-style cardigan to the back of the sofa, revealing the colorfully tattooed sleeves on her arms.