The Beta's Witch

Chapter 9: Forgotten Memories (Part 2)

6 Years Ago . . . 

ADRIANA POV

Ice water splashed down on my head, alarming my senses. I lashed out with my magic. A loud grunt then a bang sounded a few feet away. I shot out of bed, gasping. Night still claimed the skies, my internal clock told my it wouldn’t rise for another few hours.  

My Uncle lay on the floor, propped up on an elbow, rubbing his head. When he realized I was awake he gave me a sly grin.

“Seriously?!” I yelled.

“If you think some super cool new power spell will get you out of training, I may need to get another bucket.” He jumped off the floor, his vampire speed making his graceful movements impossible to follow.

Uncle Joseph was a warlock who had been turned into a vampire when he was 25. He would look young and handsome for the rest of his life. Lucky for him he had the Castor genes. Thick dark curls, olive skin and piercing grey eyes. It didn’t hurt that he also had the body of pro wrestler. He looked more like my older brother than my uncle.

Contrary to common knowledge vampires didn’t live forever. That myth stemmed from the extended lifetime of vampires, who could live about as long as a millennium, give or take a few centuries.

“Let’s go Addie!” My uncle called, sounding like a professional couch. He hustled out of the room. I reluctantly left my bed, pulling on some workout clothes.

The man was already stretching when I got out to the backyard, I quickly followed suit. We had been training like this since I turned five, the Castors were a long line of combat witches, by now our warm-up routine was muscle memory.

Before I finished my last stretch, I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. I immediately ducked, rolling neatly out of the way as a ball of fire soared over my head.

“What the hell?” I complained, suddenly completely awake.

Did I mention that my uncle was also a witch? Male witches preferred to be called warlocks, but mythology got their role in the Wiccan community wrong too. Warlocks didn’t have magic of their own, but they could draw on matriarchs of their families, if they allowed it. Some of our men had separated from their families and gone to live human lives, magic free.

Nana, the matriarch of our family, had cut her son off a long time ago. Though something funny had happened when he had been turned into a vampire. Apparently, the magic found in vampires could be drawn on by the heuristic magic my uncle possessed as a warlock. He was one-of-a-kind, using magic as he pleased, as powerful as any witch with her own magic. I could never get him to tell me how he was turned.

“Pay attention to your surroundings at all times, Addie.” He scolded, frowning at me. “You need to be prepared for whatever may happen tonight.”

“I’ll be with Nana. I’ll be fine.” I reminded him, confused. He didn’t say anymore, instead we sparred. By the time we were finished three hours later, I had bruises all over.

I left my sadistic instructor in the backyard, with his vampire affliction came a heightened predator instinct. It took him longer to come down after our sessions.

Mom was shuffling around the kitchen when I came back downstairs after a long shower. She looked exhausted. I took the bottle in her hands and kissed her on the cheek. Worry lines were etched deep in her face.

“I’ll take care of Daniel, go back to bed.” I said, smiling reassuringly. She nodded, shuffling back to her room. Heavy concern blossomed in my chest, knowing she wasn’t okay. I went to take care of my little brother, we played in his nursey, His chubby cheeks and cute laugh not quite enough to distract me from what would come to pass.

Tonight, me and twelve other young witches were going to be a part of a ritual to make our families stronger. I was more than ready. The bad omen that my grandmother’s coven, the Elder Coven, had received a few months ago had weighed heavy on all of us. Shortly after our herb gardens started dying and my father fell ill. Something bad was coming and we were not powerful enough to stop it.

. . . . .  

Nana came to our house one day and asked my parents for their blessing to include me in a ritual to bring more power to the young witches of the thirteen strongest Wiccan families. I was a good combat witch, though I had never gotten to test my skills. My parents always said it was too dangerous to reveal who we were. I had listened at the entryway of the kitchen, I felt proud that the elders were considering me to help make the witches stronger. I was as devoted to keeping us safe as everyone else. My mother forbade it.

“Mother,” I objected. “I want to help! I want to keep us safe. You, Father, and my little brother. Please let me do this.”

“Addie, magic of this level comes with a price. We are keepers of the balance. I’ve never even heard of a ritual that can give witches more power. You are either a witch or you are not. It’s too risky.” She turned to Nana, “The coven shouldn’t be dabbling in this kind of magic. My answer is no.”

I stomped away to my room, hoping that Nana could change her mind.  I called my best friend. She was a wolf and lived nearby with her pack. As much as I was jealous that one day, she would be able to turn into a wolf, she was jealous of my magic. The Castors were a long line of witches, powerful in our own right, and Nana was suggesting we could wield even more magic. I had been learning to cast magic and fight since I was five. She was the daughter of the Alpha, strong and almost as fast as a vampire. All her senses were enhanced, but she wouldn’t have access to her wolf until she turned 18 in a few months.

Our parents didn’t know we were friends. The wolves didn’t know they had witches near their territory, and we were careful to keep ourselves hidden, but we remained friends anyway. Everything I knew about wolves I had learned from her, and I taught her about witches. Despite our families naturally hating each other, we promised not to let it tear us apart.

“You will not believe what is happening!” I yelled into the phone when she picked up.

“GEEZ! Addie, what the hell?” Oops, super hearing, right.

“Sorry, girl. It’s just my mom is being completely unfair.”

It took a few minutes for me to explain the whole situation to her. I included my mother’s warning and how I felt the consequences of gaining more magic couldn’t possibly be as bad as whatever threat was lurking over our family. She stayed silent on the line for a long time.

“Addie, I want you to be safe. Your mother has taught you everything she knows about magic, and you’re not even sure what this bad omen really means. What if it’s not as bad as you think it is?”

“But what if it is?! We wouldn’t be prepared, and I would be helpless to protect them.”

“Hmm. You’re strong as you are now, Ads.” She paused. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I will kick your ass if you don’t make it out of this in one piece. I need my best friend there when I wolf out for the first time!” she laughed.

“I promise I will be there, even if you can’t see me,” I laughed, knowing if her family caught me on their land it wouldn’t be good. “Maybe you and mom are right. It would be stupid to jump into this without looking at it from all angles. I’ll let you know what I decide to do. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye Addie!”

Two days later my mother came into the room holding Daniel. She looked like she hadn’t slept, her eyes were puffy and red. I ran to her and hugged them both.

“Mom? What happened?”

“Your father is sick, baby. Just like the members from other families.”

‘But Dad’s not a witch! I don’t understand,” I cried. I needed my father. None of the witches who got sick survived it. Not even the Elder Coven was strong enough to heal it. We couldn’t lose him.

If there had been any doubt in her mind before, it was quickly dispelled when the life of someone she loved was on the line. Mother placed Daniel in my hands and went to send word to Nana.

 The ritual was set to take place later that week. I bounced Daniel on my hip as I contemplated what we were about to do. The consequences of attempting to siphon more magic than a witch was blessed with could be huge. Magic was meant to bring balance. Offsetting the balance fell into . . . dark magic. I looked down at my little brother falling asleep on my shoulder. He deserved to grow up with a father. If I had to pay the price for him and my mother, I would.

. . . . .

I held Daniel close, promising I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

As night approached, me and twelve other witches were cleansed, dressed in simple white dresses, and paraded through the forest. We were brought to a huge circular clearing. The lights of the torches flickered orange light, casting long eerie shadows worthy of nightmares.

The blue moon shone in the sky, almost at its zenith.

When the ritual started thirteen of us faced three elders. My nana Elder Castor, Elder Cain, and Elder Rayne. They passed in front of each of us, holding a chalice that we were meant to bleed into, whispering the words they told us to. Already I was getting nervous. Blood magic was among the trickiest magic to control, and the most binding.

The elders placed the chalice on the ground and joined hands around it. They began chanting a low monotone that grated against my bones. A dull glow shimmered under the elders’ skin.

One of the girls began screaming. I whipped around in time to see the first one collapse.  The chanting grew louder. Frantic screaming filled the night, as three more collapsed. Chaos erupted as the remaining girls tried to leave the clearing.  When the first one reached the edge of the circle she bounced off, a shimmering blue wall came into view surrounding the circle. The barrier spell they erected was immoveable. 

Through it all I was rooted in the same spot. My mind whirring as I tried to understand what was happening. The coven had recruited the most talented young witches. And instead of blessing us with more power the elders were taking it. I turned towards the three elders in the center. Their chanting grew louder still, tears stung my eyes, as I watched the euphoric look on my nana’s face. She had betrayed me.

Four other girls were still standing. Desperately trying to fight their way out of the clearing. It wouldn’t work. If we had any chance of survival, we would have to stop the ritual. A feeling of weakness spread through me. None of the girls were standing. I rushed for the chalice. I knocked over two of the elders and slammed to the floor as every torch went out. The terror of imminent death was too much to bear. I screamed, pouring everything I had to push it all away from me. Wind gusted around the forest and echoing screams filled the night. I screamed until I had nothing left. Stars danced across my vision and I felt myself slump to the ground.

The full moon illuminated the night. As my eyes adjusted, I looked down and realized I was wearing the contents of the chalice. Blood dripped from my hair, down my face and into my mouth. I launched onto my hands and knees just as I started retching. Blood pounded in my ears. When I was able, I stood and took in my surroundings. The bodies of the young witches were scattered around were they fell. Where the three elders had once stood was nothing but ash. The elders that created the barrier lay in a around the clearing with blood dripping from their eyes, ears, and mouths.

I swayed. Never in my life had I seen anything more gruesome.  I fled. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, faster than I had ever run before. The wind whipped past me, my hair flying as I pumped my muscles harder than I had ever pushed them, ignoring the blood drying to my skin. I didn’t think I could outrun the horror of what had happened, scenes of death imprinted on my mind. I kept running anyway, determined to try.