3. Chapter 3

3

Chapter 3

Mia

I stretch languidly as sunlight streams through my bedroom window, feeling the familiar tingle of magic awakening in my veins. My apartment greets me with the soft rustling of enchanted plants and the gentle hum of magical artifacts.

Home, sweet home.

Padding barefoot across the cool wooden floor, I make my way to the center of my living room. It's time for my morning ritual. Sinking onto the floor, and sitting cross-legged, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, feeling the energy of the earth beneath me. With practiced movements, I begin to weave intricate patterns in the air, my fingers leaving trails of shimmering light.

"Elements of air, fire, water, and earth," I chant, my voice vibrating with power. "I call upon your strength to center my magic and align my spirit."

A warm breeze swirls around me, carrying the scent of roses from my balcony garden. Tiny flames dance at my fingertips, and I feel the comforting weight of the elements surrounding me. I feel my magic surge, powerful and controlled.

With a satisfied smile, I rise and make my way to the kitchen.

Breakfast time.

I flick my wrist, and the refrigerator door swings open. Eggs float gracefully through the air, landing gently on the counter beside me. Another gesture and a pan settles itself on the stove, a soft blue flame igniting beneath it.

As I crack the eggs, I hum a little tune. The coffee maker across the room springs to life at the sound of my voice. I love that little enchantment – music-activated appliances are so convenient.

"Now, for the piece de resistance ," I murmur, reaching for my favorite mug. I sprinkle a pinch of ground cinnamon into the bottom, followed by a few drops of vanilla extract. As the rich aroma of coffee fills the air, I whisper an incantation, infusing the brew with a touch of magic that will make it absolutely perfect.

I finish my breakfast, savoring the last sip of my magically enhanced coffee. With a wave of my hand, the dishes float to the sink and begin washing themselves. It's a simple spell, but one I never tire of using.

My mind drifts back to yesterday's argument with Rowan at the Jumping Bean. Guilt gnaws at me. I was too harsh, too impatient with her struggles. It's not fair to compare her magical journey to mine or Kara's.

"Time to make this right," I mutter, reaching for my phone.

I dial Rowan's number, listening to it ring. Once, twice, three times. No answer. It goes to voicemail.

"Hey, Ro, it's me," I say, trying to keep my tone light. "Just wanted to chat about yesterday. Give me a call when you can, okay?"

I hang up, frowning. It's not like Rowan to ignore calls, especially from family. Maybe she's just busy.

Or avoiding you.

The thought stings more than I'd like to admit. I decide to send a text:

Hey, sis, sorry about yesterday. I was out of line. Can we talk? Love you.

I stare at the screen, waiting for those three dots to appear, indicating she's typing a response. Nothing. The message shows as delivered but not read.

Sighing, I set the phone down. "Well, that went well," I say to the empty room.

I try to distract myself by tidying up, but my thoughts keep circling back to Rowan. I should have been more supportive, more understanding. It's not easy being the odd one out in a family of powerful witches.

"I'll try again later," I resolve, glancing at the clock. "Maybe she just needs some space."

But the uneasy feeling in my gut persists. Something doesn't feel right, and I can't shake the sense that I've left an important matter unresolved.

I settle at my desk, opening my laptop to tackle the pile of admin work for our family's company. As I sort through invoices and vendor contracts, my mind wanders to thoughts of Rowan and Kara.

Being the eldest Blackwood sister has always felt like both a blessing and a burden. I love my sisters fiercely, but sometimes, the weight of responsibility is overwhelming. I've always tried to be the perfect witch, the ideal daughter, the protective older sister. But moments like yesterday at the Jumping Bean remind me that I'm far from perfect.

I pause in my work, staring at the framed photo on my desk. It's from last summer's solstice celebration – the three of us, arms linked, laughing at some joke I can't remember now. Rowan's smile is a bit hesitant but genuine. I wonder when things started to change, when her insecurities about magic began to overshadow her natural warmth and creativity.

Kara's always been the firecracker of the family, organized but quick to action and brimming with magical talent. I admire her drive, but I worry sometimes that she pushes herself too hard, trying to prove something to the world – or maybe to herself.

And then there's me, caught in the middle, trying to bridge the gap between my sisters' vastly different personalities and magical abilities. I've always felt it was my job to keep the peace, to be the voice of reason. But yesterday, I failed spectacularly at that.

I sigh, turning back to the spreadsheet in front of me. Numbers and dates blur together as I input data, my thoughts still circling around my family dynamics.

As I work, I make a mental note to plan some one-on-one time with each of my sisters. Maybe what we all need is a chance to connect without the pressure of family expectations or magical prowess hanging over our heads.

After a few hours of concentration, I decide to take a break from work and head out for lunch, texting my friend Lydia to meet me at Willow Creek Park. The fresh air might help clear my head, and Lydia's always good for a laugh.

As I stroll through the park, I spot Lydia waving from a bench near the duck pond. Her bright smile is infectious, and I feel some of my worries start to melt away.

"Mia! Over here!" she calls, patting the spot next to her.

I settle onto the bench, breathing in the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice," I say, pulling out a container of homemade pasta salad.

Lydia shrugs, unwrapping her sandwich. "Are you kidding? Any excuse to escape my cubicle is welcome. How's the party planning going?"

As we chat about work and family, I find myself relaxing. Lydia's a great listener, and it feels good to share my concerns about Rowan without judgment.

"I'm sure she'll come around," Lydia reassures me, squeezing my arm. "You Blackwood sisters are tough cookies."

I'm about to respond when something catches my eye. A figure stands at the edge of the treeline, partially obscured by shadows. Even from this distance, I can feel their gaze fixed on me. Inadvertently, I shiver.

"Lydia," I whisper, trying to keep my voice calm. "Don't look now, but do you see someone watching us from over there?"

Lydia turns her head, scanning the area I indicated. "Where? I don't see anyone."

I blink, and suddenly, the figure is gone. No trace remains, as if they'd vanished into thin air.

"That's…odd," I mutter, frowning. "I could have sworn I saw someone."

Lydia laughs, nudging my shoulder playfully. "Maybe all that party stress is making you see things. Or hey, maybe it was a ghost! Ooooh, spooky!"

I force a smile, but the uneasy feeling lingers. My instincts are rarely wrong, and something about that figure felt…off. Dangerous, even.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," I say, not wanting to worry Lydia. But I can't shake the sensation of being watched, even as we finish our lunch and say our goodbyes.

My sense of foreboding lingers long after lunch and hangs over me as I prepare to attend a local Coven Conclave meeting.

I arrive at Aurora Greenleaf's home, a charming cottage nestled in a lush garden. The scent of herbs and blooming flowers fills the air, instantly calming my nerves. As I approach the door, it swings open, revealing Aurora's warm smile.

"Mia, dear! Come in, come in," she ushers me inside. "The others are already here."

I step into the cozy living room, nodding greetings to Marina Tidecaller, Astra Moonshadow, and Thaddeus Runeweaver. The atmosphere is tense despite Aurora's attempts at hospitality.

"Now that we're all here," Thaddeus begins, his deep voice resonating in the small space, "let's discuss the matter at hand. There's been an increase in vampire activity in our area."

I lean forward, my heart racing. "I've noticed it too. Just today, I felt like I was being watched in the park."

Marina raises an eyebrow. "Are you certain it wasn't just paranoia, dear?"

I bristle at her dismissive tone. "I trust my instincts, Marina. Something's not right."

Astra nods slowly. "I've had…dreams. Visions of shadows creeping closer. I believe Mia may be onto something."

"What do you propose we do?" Aurora asks, her eyes filled with concern.

I take a deep breath. "We need to increase our protections. Perhaps set up additional wards around the town. And we should warn our community to be vigilant."

Thaddeus shakes his head. "That might cause unnecessary panic. We don't want to alarm people without concrete evidence."

"But by then, it might be too late!" I argue, frustration building. "We can't just sit back and wait for something to happen."

Marina sighs. "Mia, I understand your concern, but we must be cautious. Rash actions could provoke the vampires if they truly are planning something."

I look around the room, searching for support, but I'm met with hesitant gazes and furrowed brows. The reluctance to act is maddening.

I sit back in my chair, frustration simmering beneath my calm exterior. The meeting continues, but I can barely focus on the mundane topics now being discussed. My mind keeps circling back to the vampire threat and our lack of action.

Aurora brings up the upcoming Midsummer festival, detailing plans for decorations and refreshments. I nod along, offering a suggestion here and there, but my heart isn't in it. How can we plan celebrations when danger might be lurking just around the corner?

"Mia, dear, what do you think about using your moon-glow enchantment on the lanterns?" Aurora's voice cuts through my thoughts.

I blink, forcing a smile. "Oh, yes, that would be lovely. I'd be happy to help with that."

The conversation drifts to other matters – a dispute between two local witches over a shared garden plot, the need for volunteers at the community center, updates on various ongoing magical research projects. It all feels so trivial compared to the looming threat I sense.

As the meeting winds down, I can't shake the feeling that we've accomplished nothing of real importance. The other coven members gather their things, chatting amiably about the upcoming festival and their plans for the week.

"Well, I think that covers everything," Thaddeus announces, standing up. "Unless anyone has anything else to add?"

I open my mouth, ready to make one last plea about the vampire situation, but the words die on my lips. What's the point? They've made it clear they're not ready to act.

"No, nothing else," I say instead, my voice tight.

As we file out of Aurora's cottage, exchanging pleasantries and goodbyes, I feel a heaviness settle in my chest. Nothing has been resolved. We're no more prepared for whatever's coming than we were before the meeting.

I leave the cottage, my mind swirling with unresolved concerns. The sun has dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the street as I head toward where I've parked my car. My unease grows with each step.

A ward will help…

"Better safe than sorry," I mutter to myself, glancing around to ensure I'm alone. We witches still prefer to hide our magic.

I take a deep breath, centering myself. With practiced movements, I begin to weave a protection spell around me. My fingers trace intricate patterns in the air, leaving trails of soft, silvery light.

"By the power of earth and sky," I whisper, feeling the magic build within me, "shield me from harm, let danger pass me by."

The spell settles over me like a second skin, warm and comforting. It's not foolproof, but it should offer some protection against minor threats.

I quicken my pace, eager to reach my car and shake off the lingering unease from the meeting. The protection spell hums around me, a comforting presence in the growing twilight. But as I round the corner, my heart leaps into my throat.

"Witch…"

The word seems to hang in the air as if it were just uttered moments ago. Suddenly, dark figures emerge from the shadows, surrounding me in an instant. Dread hits me as all my recent fears come to pass.

Vampires!

There's no mistaking the pallor of their skin and the otherworldly glow of their eyes. Fangs flash in the glow of the street lamps.

I raise my hands, magic crackling at my fingertips, ready to defend myself. But there are so many of them.

"What do you want?" I demand, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me.

A tall figure steps through the group, and I gasp in shock as I take in the wave of dark hair and intense violet eyes.

This can't be right.

"Heath? What are you doing?" I ask, half hoping this situation is not what it seems. I grew up with Heath Moonshadow. His mother, Astra, is not only a respected coven leader but one of Gran's best friends. His aunt is the High Priestess. He's magical royalty.

But this isn't the boy I remember. His familiar face twists into an expression I've never seen before – cold, calculating. "I'm sorry, Mia," he says, but there's no remorse in his voice. "This is necessary."

I don't wait for an explanation. With a shout, I unleash my magic, sending a blast of energy that knocks two of the attackers off their feet. Another lunges at me, and I dodge, my fist connecting with his jaw in a satisfying crunch.

But there are too many. For every one I push back, two more take their place. I feel my protection spell weakening under the onslaught.

Suddenly, Heath's voice cuts through the chaos, chanting words in a language I don't recognize. Black tendrils of magic snake toward me, and when they make contact, pain explodes through my body. I scream, feeling my own magic being forcibly suppressed.

Dark magic. This is wrong. Evil!

As my knees buckle and darkness creeps into the edges of my vision, I gather the last remnants of my power. With every ounce of strength I have left, I send out a desperate psychic call.

Rowan! Kara! Help me!

But even as I project the words, I feel the power leaving me. The edges of my vision start to blur and then fade until the world disappears into a pinpoint of darkness.