“We need to get out of here now!” Aidan shouts, lifting his arm to block his face from the growing flames beside him.
We push them together, forming a protective circle around them. “Grab on to one of us...hurry!” I holler.
In a flash, Aidan’s teleportation zips us outside the blazing house and back on our front lawn. Everyone coughs to clear their throat, but it doesn’t look like anyone has injuries beyond a few scrapes and misleading soot smudges.
Wow! How’d we get so lucky?
“Is everyone okay?” I ask, scanning their faces for something I might have missed.
“Yes, we’re okay.” Mrs. Russo’s voice sounds hoarse and irritated.
As if somehow I feel his presence getting closer, I look up towards the balcony, just as Hunter appears through the broken window. “I can’t find them,” he shouts, “Where are they?” Trepidation remolds his handsome face.
“They’re in the attic! It’s two doors down from where you are on the right!” Natalia yells, wincing as she squeezes her raw throat, while tears stream down her ashen cheeks. “Dear god, please help him find my girls.”
My heart goes out to her. I know how unbearable it was to lose a parent. But a child? How does one come back from that?
Hunter’s chiseled face, ingrained with alarm as he takes in the state of his surroundings. The entire house is in flames. He turns, leaping back through the window in search of the sleeping children.
“Peter! Where’s Peter?” Mrs. Russo yells, desperately searching the people around her.
Everyone stops to look.
What the.... We missed Mr. Russo? “Aidan, please take me back inside. He’s still in there.” Dread now controls every inch of my body like a puppeteer.
“Chloe, no! It’s too dangerous,” Aidan says.
“The fire trucks won’t be here for a few more minutes yet,” Gram cuts in.
“We can’t leave him in there, Aidan.” I place my hands on both sides of his face. “Please, we have to save your grandfather. Trust me, you don’t want this on your conscience.”
I know Aidan. I know what’s going through his mind.
But I can see in his eyes he knows I’m right.
He bounds to his feet the same second I do, then we join hands and disappear.
Once our feet make contact with the ground again, the searing heat warns me we’re too close to flames.
“Mr. Russo! Where are you?” I scream at the top of my lungs while pulling down the sleeves of my wet shirt.
“Mr. Russo? Where are you? Granddad?” Aidan yells, taking me by surprise.
“I’m h... here,” says Mr. Russo, so faint I’m surprised we even hear it.
As fast as we’re able to cross the room through the flames, we make it to where he lay in a charred heap on the floor. He’s beneath a large beam, burned more than you’d think possible for someone still breathing.
The pain this man must be in. My god, he didn’t deserve this.
Tears flood my eyes as I see Aidan’s horrified face. His bottom lip trembling.
We join hands, leaning down to lay our free ones upon Mr. Russo’s scorched flesh. How is this man even still alive?
Seconds later, we’re back with the others in the yard. I hear Mrs. Russo from behind me, screaming the instant she sees the overwhelming state of her husband. “Oh Peter, what have you done?” She cries, falling to her knees beside him.
“I...I’m so sorry.” His words are faint. Breathy and forced.
Aunt Morgan grabs my arm. “Chloe, please do something.”
I scan the faces of those who will surely know about my power if I choose to save him. But it doesn’t matter. I have no choice. Despite the horrible things he’s done to my family, I know I must save this man.
He has burns covering half his body. He shouldn’t be alive.
I squat down on the ground next to him, placing one hand on his blistering, half-mutilated forehead—and the other against the melted fabric barely covering his seared chest.
His eyes open.
“C...Chloe?” As he recognizes my face, tears fall down his blackened cheeks.
I inhale past a scratchy throat, closing my eyes to let the healing power flow from my body, down through my fingertips. My head tingles from the energy and my palms feel like they’re on fire. Is it warmth from the healing, or from the wounds lifting from his body? It’s so hot.
Gasps and awes surround me, but I ignore it. I continue my mission.
But then a high-pitched scream from the distance breaks my concentration.
I look up to the second floor balcony where I’d seen Hunter two times before. He stands there out of harm’s way, with Emma and Isabella in his arms. The girls tremble, but otherwise seem okay.
“He found them. Thank god,” cries Natalia.
As everyone looks up with relief stretched across their faces, the most spectacular, majestic, ivory wings emerge from Hunter’s back.
My mouth falls open in awe.
He leans down, whispering something to the adorable little girls that brings a smile to their faces.
Hunter looks back down towards us before stepping off the balcony in one fluid motion.
Just as these magnificent wings with at least a ten-foot-span glide them through the air, the full moon appears from behind him—like he’s surrounded by a glowing orb of light. I’ve never seen a more breathtaking, exalted vision in my life.
He looks like an Angel!
My Angel.
As if caught in a gentle breeze, they soar through the air, falling like a weightless snowflake unable to catch up with time.
All eyes transfixed on this image, as if being sent from above to answer their prayers.
He lands on the ground just a few feet in front of me. With my hands still on Mr. Russo, he sits up. His eyes glued to Hunter.
“Holy mother of God,” Mr. Russo mutters. “It’s a miracle.”
I shake my head. “No, Mr. Russo. It’s magic!”
With a smeared, ashen face, he turns to me. “How could you save a man who wanted to destroy you? Who has hurt your family so many times over the years?” His voice is almost a whisper.
“...because it’s not your fault. People fear what they don’t know. But now you do know, right?” I send him a sweet smile.
“Yes, I believe I finally do.” He coughs. “I think I need to get up now,” he says, trying to move.
“Not yet. You aren’t completely healed yet.” I try to hold him down.
He coughs a laugh. “That’s okay. I need to suffer a bit for what I’ve done. A painful reminder will do me some good.”
“Are you sure?” I can’t leave him like this. It wouldn’t be right.
“Yes, I’m sure. Thank you, Chloe.” He looks up at Hunter. “And thank you, Agent Payne. I had no idea what you were.”
Hunter retracts his iridescent wings, looking at Mr. Russo with an innocent grin. “I’m whatever you need me to be, Mr. Russo. And you’re welcome.”
I catch Hunter’s meaning, but it flies right over Mr. Russo’s head. His assessment of Hunter isn’t entirely accurate, but there’s no need to open that can-of-worms right now. If he wants to believe he’s actually an Angel—I’ll let him. No one needs to know he’s a Shape-shifter.
Loud sirens interrupt this monumental moment. Only a little late, three fire trucks and two ambulances pull in. They rush to hose down the house, but it’s unclear how much they’ll be able to save. It’s in pretty bad shape.
Gram and Pap brought a cooler with bottled water from the house, knowing we’d all need it from breathing in so much smoke. And because she’s always on the ball, she even brought wet rags for everyone to wipe off their hands and face. She’s always ten steps ahead of the game.
While the paramedics check everyone out, the group thanks us for saving them. Both Mr. Russo and Father Gabriel apologize profusely for their actions, but now seem relieved they were wrong about who we are.
Gram’s kindness eve
n surprises me. She told the Russo’s they were more than welcome to stay with us, but they declined considering everything they’ve already put us through. And what we’ve already done for them.
Hours later, everyone but the Russo’s have gone home, and Mr. Russo asks if he can talk to us before he leaves. Even though it’s late—we agree. Mostly out of curiosity to hear what he has to say.
Natalia and Tony decide it would be best if they head to a hotel to settle in. It was a traumatizing night for the girls.
Father Gabriel also decides to take off. He’s had more than enough excitement and desires the solace he can only receive behind the sacred walls of his church.
As we walk in the house, Hunter comes up from behind, wrapping his arms around me. Right now, I can’t imagine there’s anything that would feel better. Well, other than a bath that is.
Everyone takes a seat in the living room and Mr. Russo gets right to it. “I’m sure most of you don’t know this, but more than three-hundred years ago, this land was shared by both of our families, just like it is now. The only difference, is that our family’s belonged to the same coven. Apparently, they fled to New York just before the Salem witch trials in 1692, but they didn’t actually own this land until sometime in the 1700’s.” He pauses, looking around the room at our shocked faces.
I can’t tell who’s more surprised. Gram or Mrs. Russo.
“That’s right,” he continues, “the Russo bloodline also comes from Witches. For hundreds of years they did wonderful things together. That is, until my great, great, great, great, great, grandmother, Raven Parsons, ruined everything.
“As legend has it, she somehow got involved in the black arts. One night, while calling on a power to aid her with her magic, she was possessed by a powerful demon who wanted to be reborn as a human.
“I’m not sure how long it lasted, but while it did, she was responsible for hundreds of deaths. She was later burnt at the stake for her crimes, but it was the family who suffered the most. It was because of her that our family gave up the craft to find Christ and the Catholic Church.
“The promise had been made that someone from each generation would be a man of the cloth...to oversee the family and the land, to ensure no more magical misdeeds are done. I suppose you could say Father Gabriel is a ‘guardian’ of sorts.” He pulls out the rosary beads Michael returned after the fire, rubbing the cross with his thumb.
“From the way it was always told...it was only the ancient Wiccan’s who were truly good. It might be safe to say we were brainwashed to believe Witchcraft in any form, is evil.” He covers his heart with his hand. “Yes, I’m guilty of succumbing to this belief, and for that, I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.”
Is this really happening?
“I know what my ignorance and prejudice has cost your family...and my own for that matter. Twenty-one years ago, I feared for my family and their safety. I’d hoped you weren’t practicing magic, but when I found out you were, I panicked. There is no excuse for the lies and betrayal...and I can never right the wrongs I have done. I just need you to know, after what I have seen here tonight, I no longer believe you’re evil. You would have had every right to leave me burn in that fire for my sins. But despite my horrible misdeeds, you had enough compassion in your heart to save my family and me. I don’t know that I would have had such strength, had the tables been reversed.
“You went out of your way to warn us. Not once...but twice. Even when I didn’t listen, you still figured out a way to save us. So the way I see it, there is no way your magic could be bad when that’s how you choose to use it.
“I will be forever grateful and in your debt. If there is ever anything I can do to repay your kindness, please let me know.” He pauses. “But before we leave you folks alone, there’s just one question I have.” Mr. Russo looks at Gram.
“What is it, dear? Ask away.”
Mr. Russo’s face turns red. “I just need to know...what on earth was going on the night I saw you through the windows in the back? It scared the daylights out of me, but now I wonder if I might have imagined it.”
Gram laughs. “No, Peter...you didn’t imagine anything. What you witnessed was another miracle of sorts. We brought Samuel home from the hospital that day because they told us he was brain-dead. But before we pulled the plug, I wanted to try a few spells to see if there might be something we could do to save him. What you witnessed...was us calling upon the power of our ancestors. What you saw was their spirits. It was that night we learned of Chloe’s gift to heal. You see, when her twin died at birth, her healing power transferred to Chloe. We had no idea.” Gram smiles at me.
“One of those spirits was my daughter, Moira, and she shared that little tidbit with us. As you can see, Samuel is alive and well, thanks to Chloe.”
Now it’s me who’s embarrassed. I squirm. Man, I hate attention. Ugh.
“So you’re a Healer and a Seer? That’s a lot of power and responsibility for one small girl...but also such a blessing. You all are.” He looks around the room at each of us. “You should be so proud of who you are. I only regret it took me this long to realize it. Don’t ever let someone make you feel less than special, just because they don’t understand you...or your beliefs.”
My family smiles at him. I’m sure from both relief and happiness at this unbelievable moment.
“I know it will take time, but I hope you can learn to forgive me. Especially Michael, Morgan, and my extraordinary grandchildren. You know, I was ready to die tonight. I had told myself it was time to give up. But then I heard a voice call out through the smoke and flames. It was the sound of hearing ‘Granddad’ that gave me the strength to speak up, and the will to live.” With his eyes now full of tears, he looks across the room at Ash and Aidan with such pride, puffing out his chest.
Tears stream down his face as he hangs his head. Watching the display, you can only feel sorry him. Ash and Aidan stand. They walk up to the broken Peter Russo and wrap their arms around him in a heartfelt embrace. When they let go, he’s bawling so hard he can’t speak. With his wife now at his side, he holds up his hand to wave before disappearing through the front door.
Both families’ lives will be forever changed because of this night. How could they not be?
I watch as my family forgives the Russo’s, regardless of what they’ve done.
Without prejudice.
And without hesitation.
So what’s my problem? If these two families can find forgiveness after a lifetime of betrayal, surely I can forgive Hunter. I have to.
Apparently, he’s my destiny.
As Hunter wraps his strong, loving arms around me, I realize—everything truly does happen for a reason.
Epilogue
Paranormal Poker
For days, we’ve been counting our blessings everything went so well with the big rescue. I’m still not sure if it was luck—or proper planning that was on our side. Regardless, it could have gone so wrong. So easily.
We are, without a doubt, on the uphill climb towards mending the fences with the Russo’s. That alone makes it all worth it.
Getting things back to some semblance of normalcy is all I can think about these days. I still have a few months to enjoy my summer vacation before classes start at NYU, so doing normal nineteen-year-old activities sounds perfect. Especially with my hot new boyfriend.
Tonight will be the start of a new tradition in the Crawford house. Ever since I returned home, we talked about having a game night with the family. And after much deliberation, we came up with the perfect game for a family such as ours: Paranormal Poker.
Gram wants us to practice using our magic on a regular basis, so we thought it would be more fun to make a game out of it. The rules for Paranormal Poker are: there are no rules.
Since Hunter’s on assignment tonight anyway, the event is family only. Just six Witches showing off their mad-skills.
As Gram rounds everyone up, I can’t help but realize—for the first time in m
y life since I was a child—I’m truly happy, in every aspect of my life.
I never thought this day would come.
For many reasons, it was a bumpy start after coming back to Long Island. But now I don’t have a single complaint. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Hopefully, some of that luck will stick with me throughout this game. I totally suck at cards.
“Alright, Sis. Get ready to lose your ass off.” Dru smiles, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of his winnings.
I laugh at his over-eager arrogance, just as the rest of the crew walks in ready to play.
Pap will be the official dealer, while Gram observes. With two people on each side of the table, we’re ready to begin a simple game of Five Card Stud.
Pap shuffles, dealing the cards out with the flip of his wrist.
I’m a bit unsure how much my abilities can help me in this game—so I watch everyone else. To start, there isn’t much to notice. But once they throw away the cards they don’t want—it gets interesting.
A smirk forms on Ash’s face.
Aidan bobs his head like he’s pleased with himself, so he probably doesn’t need to use magic at all.
Dhelia isn’t so easy to read, but my gut tells me she’s not happy.
Dru must sense someone has a great hand, so he folds in a huff, tossing the cards on the table.
Aunt Morgan, however, has a confused look on her face as she bites her lip.
I try to see if I can trigger some sort of vision to show me who wins. But I get nothing.
My hand sucks, so I also fold.
After that, everyone else lays down their cards.
No contest. Ash wins with three jacks.
“Before the next hand, I’d like everyone to tell me what, if anything, you were able to do?” As always, Gram’s eager to learn about our abilities.
“Well, I couldn’t see anything, and I had a nasty hand,” I told her.
“Yeah, my hand sucked, too...but I knew Ash was gloating inside, so I was convinced his hand was good.” Dru still wears a bit of a pout.
“Well, when Pap dealt my new cards, I tried to pull the ace out from the bottom so he’d grab it, but it didn’t work.” I’ve gotten used to Dhelia’s look of annoyance. Squinty eyes. Pursed lips.
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