Chapter 9 – Lorianna
Blood wells in my shaking palms from a dozen tiny cuts. Bits of broken porcelain dot the ground, my lap, and the floor around me, and I can’t quite process exactly what’s happened.
My head pounds like it’s going to burst from the inertia inside my body. But everywhere else, there’s a thick layer of numbness. I can’t even feel the cuts on my hands while the blood flows freely down my hands.
I rub my thumb along the larger gash in the middle and let the blood smear across my palm and into the skin of my forefinger, just to make sure it’s real. I wince at the contact with the broken skin. Definitely real.
“You poor dear, you must be terrified,” Samira coos. “Let me help you tend to that first.”
She departs for the kitchen, and I watch her leave, unsure what to do now. I don’t have a frame of reference for what’s happening, and my mind just goes blank, trying to unravel the sequence of events that caused this to happen instead.
We received news of my father’s death. I still don’t know how to begin processing that.
And then… I panicked, and my emotions gripped me until I couldn’t breathe, and then I remembered.
Slowly, I turn to Marionne. “I was… I was with Mom in the car accident that killed her,” I murmur. “How didn’t I remember this until now? Why didn’t I… why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Marionne’s eyes widen, and she grips my shoulder. “I had no idea that you were, my dear. I’m so sorry. This must be… After you learned about your father, your thoughts must have gone straight to your mother. The pain of losing him brought back a suppressed memory, and perhaps all that overwhelm is what caused…”
She trails off, but her eyes fall to my hands. I lift them again just as Samira returns with a red tin and a wet cloth. She carefully takes my hands and begins dabbing at the wounds, cleaning away the blood and dirt from each slice while I try to hold still.
“You said I’m a witch,” I say. “That both of you are. That can’t be true, right? That’s impossible. Magic isn’t real.”
Samira scoffs. “Vampires aren’t supposed to be either, sweetie, but that’s the world we live in. Magic is as real as you or me, and you’ve been chosen to harness its power, as we have. It’s fate that you’re here with us now so we can guide you and show you what this means.” She takes the lid off the tin and scoops out a dab of a strong-smelling translucent paste. “This will make you feel better.”
My nose wrinkles at the sharp smell. “What is that?”
“One of my homemade healing salves. It will cool the sting, and since the cuts aren’t deep, it will heal your skin right up in no time.”
She dabs it onto the cuts, and a cooling sensation starts to overtake the sharp, unexpected jolts of warmth beneath my skin. It soothes the pain until I can’t feel it anymore and my skin just feels sticky.
“Wow, that’s incredible. Is that magic too?”
“Not really, no, my dear. Basic herbalism is all. Though your Auntie Marionne used some of her abilities to nurture the herbs in the garden, so the ingredients are more powerful than normal varieties.”
“Vampires, witches, and magic. Who would have thought?” I turn my hands over, marveled by how the cuts seem to be already healing beneath the salve. “I don’t understand how all these pieces fit together. If I supposedly have magic—”
“You do have magic, love. That little explosive teacup? That was your awakening,” Samira interjects.
“But, saying I believe you and it wasn’t some freak accident, how is that possible? How do you have magic? Did… did Mom have magic too? Is that why I remembered that memory of her?”
“When a witch awakens to her powers, it’s common for her to mentally return to a memory where she first experienced magic without knowing what it was,” Marionne explains, but she and Samira glance at each other with obvious looks of concern. “Although, our Carmen never awakened as a witch. It’s strange that your memories brought you back to that moment. We will investigate that more once you’re in tune with your magic and might be able to return to that stronger memory from the past.”
I nod, although I have no idea what they’re talking about.
“I always knew you had it in you,” Samira says. “You’re incredible, and your life is about to change forever.”
It takes me a long moment to realize that my tears are no longer falling. My cheeks are dry, my grief a sensitive throbbing in my heart that’s been temporarily tucked away. Although my instincts rear at the possibility of both magic and vampires being real, how can I deny either when I saw it all with my own eyes?
There are no other explanations for what I’ve seen, what I’ve experienced.
The worst part is, likely the only person who might have answers about my mother’s accident is now dead. Why didn’t Dad ever tell me that I was there with her? How did I survive? How did I—
I calm my racing heart, taking another deep breath. Dad wasn’t the only one who knew. He couldn’t have been. Who was that man who pulled me from the wreckage?
My mind keeps trying to impose Alex’s stoic face into the blur I see in that memory, but could that really have been him? I don’t remember much about him from that time or why he might have been there at all. Is it possible that he saved me then, too?
It’s a sick kind of irony that just days ago, my life was amazing. Imperfect, but I was happy. Then all of this happens at once. Within the span of two days, I feel like I’m falling off the edge of a cliff and there’s nothing but spikes waiting for me at the bottom. I don’t know when that moment’s going to hit, but it’s looming in the distance as I tumble through time and space trying to figure this out.
Where I fit into this whole mess.
I accused Alex, Luke, and my dad of lies. They hid who they were, and after those lies surfaced, I didn’t know who they were anymore. I still don’t.
After learning about magic, and that I might be a witch, too, can I really even say that I know myself?
“The truth, my dear,” Marionne begins, “is that our whole family comes from a long line of powerful witches that predates even the creation of vampires. Witches are the original keepers of magic, you understand. We, our family I mean, fled Europe during the peak of the witch trials in the late 1400s, and our ancestors settled in California. But we’re far from the only ones who fled; there are many witches hiding in the USA.
“Carmen never experienced a magical awakening, but we did. It’s different for every witch. Mine came when I was 16, Samira’s when she was 18, and now you, at 22.”
“If Mom didn’t have magic, how do I?”
“Your mom might not have been considered a witch, but on the genetic level, she carried those genes inside her, as you will to any daughters or granddaughters you might have one day. Magic is a fickle thing. It’s prone to skipping generations entirely and awakening when it feels the world needs another witch most. Do you feel it? That well deep inside you? A pool of life so deep there is no bottom.”
The salve on my hands absorbed entirely into my skin, leaving light pink lines where open wounds were just a few minutes ago. I don’t feel anything, really. That spot in my heart where all my pain from the past few days is hidden, but that’s it.
“I don’t think I feel any different, but there’s...”
As soon as I say that, I notice the unusual rhythm of my heartbeat. Rather than the usual thudding, rhythmic and steady, I have a sense of another pulsing beat, overlapping with my pulse, but it’s not coming from within. It’s somewhere outside, out there, and I can just now hear its wavelength.
“It’s not inside me, not really,” I say what I’m feeling out loud. “More like I’m connected to something beyond myself. A tingling on my skin, in my heart, but it doesn’t penetrate beyond the surface. Does that make sense?”
Samira’s eyes light up with joy. “You’ve connected to the Well, sweet child. It is the source of all magic, from where you will channel your powers once we learn what they are.”
“Do we have to?” I frown, bringing my legs up onto the couch again and cradling them into myself. “I don’t… I’m not ready for this. I’m barely keeping it together about vampires, and now Dad. I—I can’t.”
She takes my hands in hers and squeezes them tightly. “You can, and you will. The Well decided you were ready, that you are where you need to be to make the best of your powers. This is not a gift you can turn away without consequences—the magic will never leave you—but if you do not learn to control it, you could hurt yourself or others.”
“But Mom lived a normal life, didn’t she? She never told me about any of this—no one did.”
“She could do that because she did not form a connection with the Well. It’s very likely that she never told Gilbert what she was and did not intend to unless you awakened when you became a young woman. You see…” She clears her throat. “Your mother didn’t take too well to not becoming a witch. She believed she was destined for greatness, and when her magic never came… she was heartbroken. She wouldn’t have wanted to get your hopes up.”
“Most young women are given training to prevent any accidents like what you experienced just now,” Marionne adds. “But given your father’s business dealings with vampires… we did not feel safe reaching out to you to prepare you for this possibility. It seemed too risky, as revealing our true identities could have made Aurelius and his coven pay more attention to us, and to you, which is the opposite of what we wanted.”
“We’re very sorry you had to find out this way. But there is a silver lining to it all.”
I scoff, holding my legs closer to my chest. “Oh yeah? What’s that? My life is out of control. Everything I knew about the world and myself and my family is wrong. I’m an entirely different person, and everything that made sense a few days ago is now chaos. So, given that my dad is dead, my life is over, I broke up with my boyfriend, and I’ve lost just about everything that I cared about, I’d love to hear what you think is the silver lining in all this.”
“Your powers have been locked inside you for so long. It took such an enormous amount of pain and fear balled up inside you all at once before you could connect to the Well. This means your magic is very significant. That you, of many, many witches, have a pure and noble heart.”
I rise to my feet, needing space from my aunts and their whispers of destiny and magic. Away from them, I pace in front of the cold fireplace, trying to make sense of the foreign landscape of magic and darkness inside of me. My entire life has pretty much been planned out for me. From a young age, I was told I would become CEO of the Monroe Investment Group one day, that I would take a place by my father’s side when I became a young woman and learn from him directly until I was ready to take over.
He made sure I had everything I needed to make that a possibility. The best education, the best tutors, training programs, everything. Every step of the way, I made sacrifices. The life I dreamed for myself was pried out of my hands at every opportunity, pushing me toward running a company I didn’t really care about. I wanted to, I want to dance.
It’s been my dream since I was a girl to learn the traditional dances of European royalty and from cultures all around the world so I could bottle that experience in my skin and bones and use my body to teach people how to find love, joy, and passion in the art of dance, like I did.
Alex encouraged me to keep chasing it because no matter how impossible it seemed, that dream kept me driven and ready to face all other possibilities. He believed that once I had more power in my life, I could make that dream a reality—even if it wasn’t a full time job.
I didn’t believe him.
And now, everything is different, but I’m still at a loss for how I could ever mesh the life that I had grown up living, the life that I was supposed to live, with this new reality that includes vampires, witches, and magic with me among their number?
It seems even more impossible. Everything has crashed and burned around me, and I’m just barely crawling out of the rubble. I’m covered in scrapes and bruises from all my pain and fears, and I still feel like I’m running until my legs threaten to give out, pushing on because the moment I stop, everything else that hasn’t fallen yet will collapse on top of me.
But I survived. I’m still surviving.
My aunts are talking to each other in hushed voices and not paying attention to me anymore, but I can’t keep this line of thoughts in my head anymore. I need to say it out loud if I’m going to have any chance of making sense of it all.
“There’s no way I can be both a witch and become CEO of my father’s company,” I ramble. “I’m struggling enough to keep up in school, and I already have no time to myself. How could I train to be a witch at the same time without losing my mind? No, no, I’m not ready to be CEO right now. But Dad is dead. So that means I can’t become CEO, right? We’re going to lose everything?”
That final thought stops me in my tracks. I stare at my aunties, who wear quiet, contemplative expressions, but they nod at me, encouraging my train of thought. As if they expect me to reach the point of understanding that they reached a long time ago. These two powerful women are extraordinary and everything that I am not; self-assured, confident, and satisfied with their lives and passions.
It finally clicks.
“If Dad is dead and the vampires who want to kill me rule the Monroe Investment Group, I can’t become CEO. I’m… I’m free,” I murmur.
“Do you understand now, my dear?” Samira says quietly. “This is the end of everything you’ve known, but it’s also a new beginning.”
“My old life is completely gone, isn’t it? I don’t have to go back to school and finish a degree that I hate because there’s no chance of me running that big company now. Whatever the vampires plan on doing with it, it has nothing to do with me. They likely want me dead. So… my future is a blank slate.”
A shiver winds through me, and I pull my gaze away from my aunts to stare out at the forest of oaks through the front window. The green and yellowing leaves curl and sway in the wind, and in each one of them, I find myself awash with limitless possibilities.
Coming to my aunties, awakening to powers I didn’t know of before, has opened another door into the future. A path of wonder.
I can choose this life. I can connect it to my dreams, which were so far removed from the one I was previously forced to walk.
“I’m... I’m just a witch,” I decide. “I still don’t know what that means or where I’ll have to go from here to understand it, but…”
Marionne grins brightly, and her strawberry blonde hair gleams in the morning light. “You’re a highly educated, resourceful, and passionate woman, my dear. It’s a waste of your capabilities and your talents to run a monstrous organization like that, and I’ve said this to your father countless times. He could never get you out. But it seems fate had other plans. Whether you like it or not, this is your chance to carve your own path in the world.”
My inheritance will likely be gone, siphoned away by the vampires who have a stranglehold over the Monroe Investment Group, that is if it ever existed for me after all. I’m not a billionaire’s daughter anymore. I set up a bank account separate from MIG and my dad years ago, which still has a sizeable fortune in it. Once I’m no longer in danger, I can use that to start a new life.
Begin anew.
I have to get there first. I must hide from the vampires who are likely hunting me and gather my strength and learn more about who I am in the meantime. I place my hands on the windowsill and breathe. For the first time since I was a child, I can picture my dreams in full, vivid color. As a witch, as someone completely disassociated from the legacy I had, I can live wild and free like my aunties, fulfilling my every dream and living a full life. I can build that dance studio. My dreams are as real and alive as I am, waiting for me to reach out and grab them.
My dad’s death is a tragedy, there’s no doubt about that. I hate that this has happened, and I hate the people who took him from me. But when he told me to run, he gave me an opportunity to live. To truly live. And I will not waste that.
I open my eyes, and a rush of anticipation burns through my veins. I turn back to my aunties, my head held high. “Okay,” I tell them. “I’ve decided.”
“Is everything alright, my dear?” Samira asks with a worried crinkle in her forehead. “We understand this is a lot to process, and you need to take the time to grieve your father. We’re here to guide you and answer all the questions you might have.”
“I appreciate that, but I can’t sit around idly. Right now, I need to take advantage of the little time we have before anyone tracks me down. I want to learn who I am and where I come from. But most of all, I need to learn how to protect myself.”
Marionne and Samira look at each other excitedly. “We’ll do that and more,” Marionne says. “When would you like to start?”
“Right now. Teach me everything.”