7. Chapter 7

7

Chapter 7

Rowan

" P lease pass the salad, sweetheart."

I give Mom a small nod and reach for the large glass bowl on the table in front of me.

God, this is awkward.

Our family meals are never like this. But then again, our family has never had to deal with a situation like this before.

Dad is scowling down at the perfectly prepared portion of salmon on his plate while Kara is trying to spear a cherry tomato off of hers. She's not having much luck because she keeps shooting curious looks in my direction.

Gran, on the other hand, is eating with gusto.

"Rowan," Dad begins, "I think it's time—"

"Darling," Mom interrupts. "Do we need to do this over dinner?"

"If not now, then when, Georgia?" Dad looks at her. "We've put this off for long enough."

Oh boy. Here we go.

"It's okay, Mom." I smile tersely at my mother. "Dad's right." I take a deep breath, bracing myself. Dad clears his throat, his fork clattering against the plate as he sets it down.

"Rowan," he begins, his voice stern but controlled, "I need you to understand the gravity of the situation. Word has spread through the witch community about your…involvement with Darick Drake. Since he's clearly not dead, some are now convinced this is some sort of…lovers' quarrel."

I make a choking sound. "A lovers' quarrel? Dad, I swear, I saw him die!"

"We've been over that a dozen times. It appears you were mistaken. That doesn't stop people from talking."

I wince, feeling the weight of his words. The silence that follows is broken only by the soft clink of Gran's fork against her plate as she continues eating, seemingly unfazed.

"How bad is it?" I ask, my voice low.

Dad sighs, running a hand through his silver-gray hair. "Bad enough. There are rumors, speculations. Some are questioning your loyalty to our kind."

Mom reaches out, placing her hand gently on mine. "Sweetheart," she says, "we're worried about you. Getting involved with a vampire, especially one as powerful as Lord Drake…it's dangerous."

I can see the struggle in her eyes, trying to balance her maternal instinct to protect me with her disappointment in my choices.

"We raised you better than this," she continues, her voice softening. "We taught you about the history between our kinds, the risks involved. I just…I don't understand how you could let this happen."

The hurt in her voice makes me flinch. I want to explain, to make them understand that it wasn't something I chose, that the connection with Darick was unexpected and beyond my control. But the words stick in my throat.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. "It's not that simple," I begin. "The connection with Darick…it wasn't something I chose. It just happened."

Dad's eyebrows pull together, his frown deepening. "What do you mean, ‘it just happened'? These things don't just happen, Rowan."

"But it did!" I insist, my voice rising. "One day, I started hearing his voice in my head. I didn't ask for it; I thought it was nuts…that I was nuts. Then we met, and…it was like a pull I couldn't resist."

Kara makes a little humming sound. "A psychic connection? That's…actually kind of cool."

"Kara!" Dad snaps, shooting her a warning glance before turning back to me. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Vampires are not to be trusted, especially not one like Darick Drake."

I feel a flare of defiance. "You don't even know him!"

Really, Rowan? You're defending him now?

"I don't need to know him!" Dad's voice booms, making me flinch. He slams his hand on the table, causing the dishes to rattle. "Vampires have been our enemies for centuries. They've hunted us, used us, betrayed us time and time again. And now you're telling me you have some sort of mystical bond with one of their leaders?"

"Lake," Mom interjects, her gentle voice edged with steel. "Please, calm down."

But Dad is on a roll now, his face flushed with anger. "Do you have any idea what they're capable of? The atrocities they've committed against our kind? And now, with Mia missing… How can you even consider being with one of them?"

"I wasn't with him, Dad!" I say sharply, guilt prodding me because, if I'm honest, I was.

"Really?" Dad scoffs. "That's not what it looked like from where we were standing."

Heat hits my cheeks, and I bite back a retort. "It wasn't the way things were supposed to go," I mutter. "I thought it would help."

"The only thing vampires help with is draining witches dry. Don't fool yourself, Rowan! This isn't some fairy tale romance. This is real, and it's dangerous."

"Go easy on her, Lake." Gran sets her fork down and dabs her lips with a crisp linen napkin. "She's already punished herself enough."

"I'm not trying to punish her, Mother. I'm trying to make her see the foolishness of her actions. We already lost one daughter!" His expression has grown anguished, and I swallow a lump in my throat as I realize how much I've put them through.

"Nobody says we're going to lose Rowan, Dad," Kara says. I glance at her gratefully as she interrupts Dad's tirade. "Tell us about these powers," she asks, turning to me. "You said they've gotten stronger since this connection with Darick started, right?"

I nod, relieved to shift the focus. "Yeah, it's…it's been different. Stronger, like you said."

Kara's eyes light up. "How so? Can you do new spells? Or are your old ones just more powerful now?"

"Both, I think," I say, warming to the topic. "It started with little things; a levitation spell that day we met at the coffee shop. I've never been able to do anything like that before. Then, I tried stronger things. Like the Spirit Circle. You saw what happened there. And then when I blasted…" I trail off. None of us need to be reminded of what happened when I unleashed my full power on Darick.

"That's fascinating," Kara muses. She turns to Gran. "Is that normal? For a connection with a vampire to boost witch powers?"

Gran looks thoughtful. "The blending of vampire and witch energies can create…surprising results."

"What about Darick?" Kara asks, turning back to me. "Did he have any changes in his abilities?"

I shift uncomfortably, aware of Dad's scowl deepening. "He…he said he felt different after we…connected. Stronger, maybe? But I don't know the details."

"Interesting," Kara murmurs. "And this psychic link – could you read his thoughts? Or was it just feelings?"

"It was like we could speak to each other," I explain. "Sometimes I could feel what he was feeling, but it's not like I can riffle through his mind or anything."

Kara nods, clearly intrigued. "And how did it start? Was it gradual, or did it just hit you all at once?"

"Kara! I hardly think this is relevant." Dad looks thunderous.

"But it is, Dad!" Kara looks in his direction. "If we know what this is, we can use it. To find Mia!" Her expression is animated. "Now that we know she's alive and with the vampires, we can—"

"Our best chance of finding Mia is to work with the Conclave, Kara. Going off half-cocked is going to end up in disaster and probably put more of our family at risk." Dad's jaw sets. "I won't have that, Kara. I can't." His voice cracks.

Oh, God, he's hurting.

"Now, now," Gran says, her voice calm but carrying that undeniable authority that always makes us all sit up and listen. "While I understand your concerns, Lake, I think we're missing an opportunity here."

Dad looks in her direction. "Opportunity? Mother, surely you're not suggesting—?"

Gran holds up a hand, silencing him. "I'm suggesting we look at this situation from all angles, son. Yes, there are potential dangers in Rowan's connection to Darick Drake. But there might also be significant benefits."

I feel a surge of hope at her words. Finally, someone who isn't just seeing this as a disaster.

"What do you mean, Gran?" I ask eagerly.

She looks at me, her expression thoughtful. "Your powers are considerable, dear. With some training, you're going to be a formidable witch."

My chest almost swells at her words and I nod, remembering the rush of power I'd felt, the way magic had flowed through me like never before.

"Well," Gran continues, "I believe we could use this to our advantage. Along with your link to the vampire."

"How?" Mom asks, looking anxious.

Gran's eyes meet mine. "Rowan's connection to Darick could provide us with insights into the vampire world that we've never had before. And combined with her power—"

"Rowan. We need to speak."

The words come out of nowhere, and I get such a shock that I knock over my water glass.

"Shit!" I blurt as I make a grab for it. Too late. The tablecloth is soaked.

"It's important," the voice continues. That voice. His voice.

"Shut up!" I say hoarsely.

"What?" says Dad.

I jerk my head up, eye wide. "No! I didn't mean…um… Sorry, Dad."

"Rowan. I have to talk to you."

"For God's sake!" I clap my hands over my ears, which I know is pointless.

"What's going on?" Dad's voice is sharp. "Are you listening to what your grandmother just said?"

"Get out of my head, damn you!" I squeeze my eyes shut, screaming at him silently.

"Rowan—"

"No!" I visualize a padlocked door barred shut. For a second, I imagine it rattling as someone tries to force it open, but I don't allow it. I refuse to allow it.

I open my eyes to find my entire family staring at me. Mom's hand hovers near mine as if she's not sure whether to offer comfort or pull away.

"Rowan?" Kara asks, her voice tentative. "What's going on?"

I swallow hard, desperately trying to think of an explanation that doesn't involve admitting that Darick was just in my head. "I- I just had a moment. Sorry about that."

Dad's eyes narrow. "A moment? That looked like more than just a moment, Rowan. Are you hearing him again?"

Before I can respond, Gran interjects. "Perhaps we should give Rowan a moment to collect herself. This has been a trying time for all of us."

I shoot her a grateful look, relieved that at least one person in this room seems to understand. But just as I'm about to speak again, there's a sharp knock at the front door.

We all freeze, exchanging worried glances.

Who could that be at this hour?

Dad stands up, straightening his shirt. "I'll get it," he says tensely.

As he leaves the room, Mom leans in close. "Rowan, honey, whatever's going on, we need to present a united front right now. Okay?"

I nod, trying to push aside the lingering echoes of Darick's voice in my mind. We all strain to hear the conversation at the door, and my stomach drops when I catch the words "Conclave representative."

Dad returns moments later, his face a study of forced calm. "We have a visitor," he announces. "From the Conclave."

We scramble to our feet, hurriedly smoothing clothes and hair. I can feel the apprehension radiating off everyone as we file into the living room.

I watch as Dad ushers in a young woman dressed in the formal robes of a Conclave messenger. Her eyes dart nervously around the room, taking in our taut expressions.

"Good evening," she says, her voice steady despite her apparent unease. "I bring a message from High Priestess Seraphina Moonshadow."

We all straighten up at the mention of Seraphina's name. Dad nods for her to continue.

"The High Priestess wishes to inform you that she has managed to smooth things over with the vampire delegation," the messenger continues. "However, there are still many matters that require discussion."

I feel a wave of relief wash over me, followed quickly by a surge of anxiety. What exactly did Seraphina tell them? How much do they know?

"High Priestess Seraphina requests a meeting with the Blackwood family later this week," the messenger says, her eyes flickering briefly to me before returning to Dad. "She stressed the importance of your attendance."

Dad's jaw tightens, but he nods. "We'll be there. Please inform the High Priestess that we appreciate her efforts and will await details of the time and place of our meeting."

The messenger bows slightly. "I'll relay your message. Good evening to you all."

As quickly as she arrived, she's gone, leaving us in a heavy silence. Dad closes the door and turns to face us, his expression grim.

"Well," he says, "it seems we have a bit of a reprieve. But that doesn't mean we can breathe easy just yet."

Mom sinks onto the couch, looking drained. "At least Seraphina was able to handle the situation with the vampires. That's something, isn't it?"

"For now," Dad mutters, pacing the room. "But who knows what concessions she had to make to keep the peace?" I watch Dad's face, his features stormy. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he turns to me.

"Rowan," he continues, his voice softer than before but still edged with worry, "I need you to understand something. When I think about you and this vampire, Drake, I'm terrified."

I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

"Let me finish, please," he says. "I know you're an adult, and I know you believe you can handle this. But vampires…they're not like us. They're predators, Rowan. They've survived for centuries by being cunning, ruthless, and manipulative."

He runs a hand around the back of his neck, kneading the muscles there; it's a gesture I've seen a thousand times when he's stressed. "I've seen what they can do. I've witnessed the aftermath of their hunger, their violence. And the thought of you being anywhere near that world…it keeps me up at night."

I feel a lump forming in my throat. Despite my frustration with his attitude earlier, I can see the genuine fear in his eyes now.

"Dad, I—"

He shakes his head, cutting me off again. "I'm not forbidding you from seeing him, Rowan. I know that would only push you away, and God knows we can't afford to lose another daughter." His voice cracks on the last word, and I feel my heart breaking a little. "But I'm begging you," he continues, "to be careful. To think about what you're doing, about the risks you're taking. Not just for yourself but for all of us. If anything happened to you…"

He trails off, unable to finish the thought. I see tears glistening in his eyes, and I realize just how deeply this situation has affected him.

"I'll be careful, Dad," I whisper, my own voice thick with emotion. "I promise."

Gran, who's been quiet since the messenger arrived, finally speaks up. "I think it's best we all get some rest. We have some big challenges ahead of us, and we need to be prepared for whatever comes our way."

We all murmur in agreement, the idea of returning to the dining room to finish our meal completely forgotten. As we say our good nights and start to disperse, I can't help but wonder what Seraphina has in store for us. I hug myself, feeling a chill despite the warm evening. The thought of facing the Conclave again, of having to explain everything once more…it's draining.

Kara steps up next to me, nudging my shoulder. "Hey, it'll be okay."

I give her a weak smile, grateful for her support.

Kara shoots a look at where Mom and Dad are seeing Gran out the front door. She dips her head toward my ear. "Can we meet up tomorrow? I've got some ideas about finding Mia."

My heart skips a beat. "Really? What kind of ideas?"

She glances toward our parents, still chatting with Gran by the door. "Not here. Let's grab coffee early, okay? Say, seven?"

I nod, excitement and apprehension bubbling in my stomach. "Okay, seven it is."

As Kara heads upstairs, I'm left with my thoughts in turmoil. Part of me is thrilled at the prospect of actually doing something to find Mia. After all this time of feeling helpless, the idea of taking action is intoxicating.

But another part of me is scared. Everyone's warnings echo in my head – Dad's fear, Mom's worry, even Gran's cautious approach. Are they right? Am I about to walk into something dangerous?

Well, duh, Rowan, that's a given.

But then I think of Mia, wherever she is. Is she scared? Hurt? Does she think we've forgotten about her? The thought makes my chest ache.

As I head down the path to my cottage, I weigh the risks in my mind. On one hand, we could be putting ourselves in serious jeopardy. The vampires aren't to be underestimated, and we're still learning about the extent of their power and influence.

On the other hand, this is Mia we're talking about. My sister. If there's even a chance we could save her, isn't it worth the risk? The responsible thing would be to wait, to let the Conclave handle it. But how long have they been "handling" it already? A year has passed, and we're no closer than we were the day she disappeared.

Maybe it's time to take matters into our own hands. Maybe Kara and I can do what the Conclave couldn't. As I step onto the patio and head to my front door, one thought keeps circling in my mind: for Mia, I'd risk everything.