Bloodline - Chapter 3: Don't Be A Bitch About It

31st October 2016

"So, you're basically telling me I'm some kind of a freak?!" I yelled at my aunt and slammed with my mug against kitchen table. "It isn't enough that everybody thinks my father was crazy bastard and now I'm what? A-a medium? Psychotic witch or what?"

Erika rolled her eyes so hard I thought they won't come back from her skull and crossed her arms. She was leaning against the doorframe and obviously losing her patience with me. "I didn't say you're a freak. I said you're a special type of witch such as myself and your father. And if you could just calm yourself down I would tell you more."

"My dad was no such thing. I would know it!" Erika just raised her eyebrows at me.

"Would you? Really?" There were hints of tiredness and disappointment in her voice and I looked at her once more. If she was telling the truth then maybe this thing was why my father wasn't speaking to her and always got so mad about her. I opened my mouth to speak but she was turning away from me and walking away. "Think about it. Think it through and let me know," were her words before she disappeared into the house and I was left alone.

After few hours of thinking this situation thoroughly, I wasn't feeling sane. Let alone like myself and through my mind was running only one thought - I didn't know him at all. Erika told me long story short, without much details but I knew there was so much more she wasn't telling me.

I found myself sitting on a bench behind Erika's house, looking into the river and even though the sight should calm me, I felt my anger slowly rise. The consequences of my father's decision sunk in my mind. How did he dare kept it from me? My creepy birthright could be threatening but also life-saving. Not to mention I was a bit old to start to learn everything I could. Erika with my father? They were born to it. They were learning things since they could talk and walk so they could defend themselves. Me? No, my father's decision was to keep me totally blind. Like a newborn.

I was so angry! It was driving me mad. "You dick. You made those important decisions without me, then you left me! I was your daughter for fuck's sake, you were supposed to be here for me, teach me all those things I don't know about. So what do you do instead? Instead of teaching your daughter not to be lame? You get yourself killed alongside with my mother. Great job, you deserve the Dad of the year award!"

With anger slowly leaving my body, I felt unbelievable pain. I didn't realize during my monolog I was waving with my hands around me. "Fucking ribs," I moaned and sit down on the bench again. Tears prickled in my eyes but I didn't want to cry. That would include sobbing and my ribs would be hurting more.

"Are you okay?" Peter. Great, just great.

"What do you think? I'm feeling awesome." I said, irony dripping from every word and I looked at him with reddened eyes.

He carefully sat down beside me, elbows resting against his knees and looked at my mess over his shoulder. "I heard something about dad award or something. Care to explain?"

And I laughed. I laughed so hard it fucking hurt but I didn't care. Peter was looking at me like as was some kind of lunatic but it didn't matter. This was so ironic. I really doubted Erika didn't say a word but maybe he wanted to know my point of view - to take a bit of that burden off my shoulders. I didn't know. I didn't know him, but that was the beauty of it. Sometimes it's easier to talk to complete stranger than your own family. "Yeah, well. He's dead. My mum too," I said, bit of that hysterical laugh still in my voice. His eyes didn't soften as I expected.

"That happens a lot. Everybody must go there some day."

"Fair enough."

"It's a fucked up situation but don't be a bitch about it. You can't change it and sooner you realize that, the sooner it will hurt less."

Maybe I should feel offended but surprisingly I wasn't. His words made sense. My parents didn't choose to die. My dad didn't choose to kill mum. He did choose to keep supernatural world from me.

"I'm bitch about feeling I didn't know him at all."

He laughed. "Yeah, that's your fight."

"I know. And I know I'm no wolf."

Peter grinned at me and something flashed in his eyes. "We'll see about that."

×

When I came back into the house later that day, I was feeling better. I found my aunt in the basement and realized I haven't been there before. Walls were full of painted symbols I didn't understand, on shelves there were herbs with full and empty flacons. When I took a better look around myself, I found small table where mortar was placed with opened book and a knife. A bit further from this was corner full of pillows which were lying on thick carpet. It looked cozy.

Erika stood in front of a bookcase, holding some kind of grimoire. "So you came to your senses?"

"I need to know the truth." I was sure I looked like a five year old child in my home clothes, tugging my sleeve and looking around myself like Alice in Woderland. My aunt just smiled.

"I will start from the beginning, so you can sit down." I dragged myself to the 'cozy corner' (as I decided to call it in my mind) and sat down. "Magic always terrified normal people, so we were hiding who we were, who we are. Many of us rejected magic - like my brother, your father. Sometimes it ended awfully, sometimes not and sometimes... Sometimes magic found its way to younger generations of long forgotten blood." She sadly smiled at me and spread her fingers across the page the book was opened on. "There are many witches, many types. Some of them can only talk to the spirits of the dead but nothing more. Some can see pieces of the future and some can't do anything but feel the presence of supernatural. The meaning of witch isn't you only cast spells and make potions. Being a witch means knowing your history, finding balance with nature and your powers because everything you've done and will do comes from your core. Not everything is white or black and mostly you'll find yourself in grey. You and I... It's complicated so ask questions if something isn't clear enough. You and I, we are witches, yes. But not so common in our circles. You see, most witches use charms and spells. Magic blood that's flowing through their veins is harmless for other supernatural creatures. They can't use it while making potions because it has no effect. Our blood makes everything stronger and has to be given willingly or then it has the same effect as a poison."

I never noticed those little scars that marked her hands, especially her fingers. She noticed what I was looking at and smiled. "Yes, well. I don't feel it anymore, but I am much older."

"Let's say something supernatural bites me. So I'm bitten and what happens now?"

"Nothing. You would probably die."

"But you said-"

"I am well aware what I said. But unlike me or your father, you didn't undergo your Awakening. So right now? Your blood is like everybody else's. That's why I need to teach you firstly about herbs and symbols, you need to memorize some spells before Awakening. Because then? Then that thing that killed John and Susan will come for you. You would be dead the second your blood awakens. I will make some preparations, make it easier for you. But you need to learn."

I nodded weakly. "What was that thing? That night."

"Long forgotten evil not from our world. When I said we were and are hiding our powers from normal people - they aren't the true reason. Hunters, creatures who could and would harm us are the true reason." Her expression darkened as she turned her back to me and grabbed another book from one of the shelves. "Centuries ago there was a witch. She took a bigger bite than she could handle. From what I've read some of our ancestors were forced to bind a demon she summoned with our bloodline and sent him back to where he belonged."

"What happened to her?"

"She was arrogant, stupid and fell in love with darkness. It whispered about great power and she fell for it. Every supernatural creature can. That's why it's so important for us to know our history, learn from mistakes. You see it often - witch that fell in love with a good werewolf, with a vampire, with another wizard. If they are good, harmless to mortals and don't kill, it's not so big problem. If you let yourself to be used by darkness and evil? It's better to have plan B how to get rid of it before it's too late. Because then? You will be killed."

Her face had deadly serious expression and I didn't, not even for a second, doubted about her words. If you mess things up, you get yourself killed. I knew that first-handed.