13. NASH

I was in complete awe of the records his family had managed to keep over all the years. I almost wished I had something like it, but I knew my history would've been a history of struggle and witches being persecuted by shifters, vampires, and our former biggest enemy, humans.

"If I could absorb all the information, I'd probably be able to find something," I told him.

"I think if you absorbed all this, you'd be on the floor unable to speak for a week," he said. "I don't know where anything is, or what anything say. All I know is my family have lived very long, and not all of these are original accounts and records, most were copied and translated from dead languages into English."

I knew I couldn't touch any of them, but I desperately wanted to. The idea of sticking my nose close and fanning my face with the pages. It would've set off more sneezes, but that was the beauty of a book. And with my abilities, I could almost literally inhale the information on it.

"You should be outside, enjoying this place," Ara said. "It should be down to me to figure out what's hidden in these pages."

"Absolutely not. I want to see. I need to. Your entire family history is in here. I think it'll help me know you better."

He pulled me into his arms, squeezing me at the waist. "Darling, you already know me better than anyone else," he said, kissing my neck. "Nobody else has been so mentally close to me. But I'm not going to tell you no ."

"What else are you not going to say no to me about?" I giggled.

"Oh, I'll say it when I mean it." He gave my neck a bunch of tiny pecks. "But if you're determined to help, I'll get you a book. I don't want you to touch it, only with your magic. And only one book." He let go of me and rushed around the shelves. "Ah. This is it." He paused at a small book with a hard blue spine on show. "It's been rewritten twice in the last five hundred years."

"How do you know?"

"Two lines," he said, gesturing to the shiny golden lines at the bottom of the spine. "And this area here is from the 1500s. Specifically, this book is what I've written."

"You're five hundred years old," I choked. "I'm—"

"Six-hundred and some years," he said. "Five-hundred is technically elder territory for a vampire, and since I was older than the two elders in New York, I had to become one."

I took a seat at the table, glancing over the family tree. "Wait. So, you were the oldest vampire in the city when we were there?"

"I'm probably the oldest in the entire state of Maine too," he chuckled, gently tugging the book off the shelf. "I want you to start with my history because if I were to recall every single memory I had since birth, I'd probably go mad. I can recall easily back forty—well, sixty years."

There were so many questions on the tip of my tongue. I couldn't comprehend living for so long. He'd outlived several generations of my family. And when he went into slumber twenty years ago, I was a toddler. It was such a strange set of thoughts.

Ara rolled the family tree up and set the book in front of me. "Remember, no touching," he said. "I'm going to go upstairs and see about getting a burial plot made up for those bones in there."

"Ok. And I won't touch. I promise."

As a witch my power waned when I didn't get to recoup it, however, there was no sign of it waning when Ara was constantly pumping me full of his vampiric seed. It was above and beyond the power I usually felt. There was no tugging at it, it felt like opening floodgates and embracing the power barring down on me.

I'd perfected my technique on absorbing information. It's probably why my sister hated books, because she couldn't work her magic like me. We joked that I had double the power since Rhone had so little. And sometimes I thought that was true myself.

Sitting in front of the deep blue book with dust covering the edges, I placed my palms on the table at either side of it. A cold breath stilled in my throat, my eyes rolled back, and my head tilted up to the ceiling, watching the mindless orbs drift across the room.

Threads zapped me from left to right, bouncing between my hands, ping-ponging off each other and encompassing the book in the center. I didn't need to see to feel. Screwing my eyelids to empty my mind, I was a conduit for information, awaiting to be filled.

The first words came through.

‘Still the deep and drive the storm, into chaos the people mourn.'

Then nothing.

I was out.

Unconscious.

The cool floor caressing my cheek.

Behind my eyes, a crunch and scream.

My parents were attacking my defenses, and they were winning.

Deep scars were carved into my mind, clawing at my guards and safety. I couldn't found my voice or make a sound. There was a pain I could only feel on a mental plane. There was no pulling myself back from it, they were trying to send me into a catatonic state.

Fighting their pressing powers and the threads of magic entering my mind from the book, I was helpless. Right up until the moment Ara found me, his words brought me back, calling my name and allowing me to resurface from his touch.

Gulping back air, I threw my head forward, almost bashing it against Ara's forehead.

"What happened?" he asked. "Relax. It's ok."

"They're—" I choked on the words as they formed in my throat. "They're looking for me."

He smiled down at me, combing a hand through my hair.. "They won't find you," he said. "This place is warded. What did it feel like?"

My lips burned from how dry they suddenly were. "My sister must've told them. That was—that was—that was a full coven attack."

"What can I do to help?"

"I probably shouldn't use magic," I said. "That's how they're trying to get me. Fuck."

Ara continued to comb his hand through my hair. "Did you learn anything from the book?"

I tried to lick my lips but my tongue was dried too. "I need water."

"Ok, let's get you back upstairs. There's centuries worth of dust and dirt down here on this floor."

I faintly chuckled, but it hurt my lips. "I know there's ways I can protect myself from their mental attacks," I said. "But they're—they're going to be relentless trying to get me back."

"Don't worry. They're not going to get you back. Not while you're with me." He leaned in and kissed me. "You want to be married up, or can you walk?"

"I can walk. I think."

My mind spun as I stood. The dizzy fog took over my mobility.

Ara helped me up the stairs back into the daylight of the hallway, and faint whiff of paint in the air. I clung to the only words I'd heard came through my mind when I tried reading the text.

I repeated it back to him. "Still the deep and drive the storm—"

"Into chaos the people mourn," he finished. "My great-grandfather would say that before going into a village and slaughtering everyone."

Whatever smile I had on my lips faded fast. "Really?"

He hummed, leading me into the kitchen where more of the staff were gathered, unpacking boxes and bags of food. "It was his way of saying that you needed to achieve inner peace before you could achieve anything, and in that instance, it referred to the death of many. There were war games and all sorts of things happening around that same time."

I'd heard horror stories about vampires, most of them I assumed were to frighten me away from them, but instead it instilled a type of fascination.

I was handed a glass of water, which I drank to completion almost immediately.

"What else did you hear or see?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"It makes sense that book contained that. A lot of people went to war in those times."

I sighed. Almost defeated. Part of me felt like I'd uncovered something important, like a prophecy. I'd hoped it was, because I probably couldn't go back and read the texts with magic. Even now, those scratch marks pained the edges of my mind as I went deep into thought.

Dana came into the kitchen, a big smile on her face as she approached us. "My dad found a scythe to cut the grass with," she said.

"Some fresh air will do you good," Ara said.

"He found some seeds too," she said.

Licking my dry lips wet, I nodded. "Going outside is probably going to be good," I said. "I want to find a patch of land I can sit and do some meditating. I need to restore my mental guards."

Ara gave me a kiss and a pat on the back. "I'm going back down to the archives. I'll miss your orbs, but the light there is fine."

I kissed him back. "You could take a lantern or whatever you used to use," I said, holding back laughter. "Maybe a candle."

"I will not be taking an open flame down there," he said.

I followed Dana out into the garden with Ara calling out reminding me to drink water and call for him if anything happens.

"It's so nice to be out of the city," Dana said. "I made more progress since you were gone."

As we walked further out into the tall grass, there was a sudden end to it and ahead of us was an open forest. It was vast and the ground was covered in roots and dead leaves. "I didn't ask you before," I started, staring ahead until I found a spot of darkness between all the trees. "What would happen if you decided you didn't want to serve Ara and his family?"

She laughed. "Impossible," she said. "There is no choice. My entire family line is bound to it. We don't do it our entire lives. We do it for seventy years, but only if we have a child. And then when we turn seventy, we receive a house and some money, and we get to live out the rest of our lives. You know, since I live until I'm killed."

"But why are you in service to him?"

She whacked at the grass behind her with the scythe, cleaning slicing it. "My parents probably know the history better, but the DeMauriel's saved our families in one way or another. And they repay us once we've done our service. It's an honor more than anything."

"I'm glad you think that. When I asked him, he mentioned sometimes people worked for the family because they stole, and were forced into it," I said, still staring straight ahead at the void between the trees.

"Oh no, years ago, like a lot of years, maybe that happened, but nobody here," she said. "My uncle, Kristoff is the cook here too. I don't think he wants to leave ever. And why would he? The expensive food he can cook with, the places we can see, and the famous people we meet who tried to see Mr. DeMauriel while he was in hibernation. It's better than the life I would've had."

It parallelled some of my life. My parents were taken in by a coven, but I wasn't happen with how they used us, because we were being used. Aether witches weren't all that common, and my parents loved the compound because they saved us from homelessness, but that was over eighteen years ago. I could never go back.

"I've never met a witch though," she said. "I mean, I might have, but you're the first. People have always said you were scary."

"Me, scary?" I laughed, breaking concentration on the spot of darkness. "I'm probably the least scary person you'll ever meet."

"I know that now," she said. "I was never allowed to go to the markets either. So, I never knew any different. I guess my parents think I'll disgrace them and leave."

"I left my parents," I said. "Maybe I disgraced them." I told her my life story almost, about being a twin, and living as the only decently strong witch they'd given birth to. And worst of all, I was an omega, so all that supposed power meant absolutely nothing because I didn't have a say in my life.

"I think you did what was best for you," she said. "But now you don't have a coven."

"Covens are overrated," I grumbled, readying a foot to step out into the forest.

"Don't—" she grabbed my arm. "The ward ends there. I think Ara wants you stay in the boundary."

I didn't mind sacrificing this bit of freedom if it meant keeping prying eyes out of my skull. "Thanks. Could you go over there and grab me a large stick? I need something to draw in the dirt with."

She handed me the scythe and ran out into the wood. I was desperate to cast magic, and I knew I could do that with symbols. Especially in this fertile earth.