Chapter 5

The temperature in my bedroom dropped a degree as the stranger gives me a pointed look. His sandy hair was short and thick, swaying forward to a point above his forehead and his eyes mirrored the color of the Hawaiian surf. His fingers drum across the surface of the crystal vial, treating it with a possessive interest. "You... made this?" His voice was smooth, a coating of caramel over broken glass.

Even if I were able to, I refused to reply.

"Yes, well, I don't know anyone, as young as you are, who could perfect such a potion. I am, dreadfully, curious as to how it works." One finger, from his left hand, flicked my dirt-blonde hair to the side and behind my ear. His head cocked to the side like a confused puppy, and he bent down so he was at eye-level with me. "Would you mind me taking it?"

My eyes widen, my mouth struggling against the magical bond clamping my lips shut.

"Not that you have a choice." He backed away from me, and the force that had paralyzed me a second before was suddenly lifted.

My fingernails bite into my palms, my nostrils flare, and my forehead creases in worry. "Don't."

He seems confused for a moment; maybe even a little startled I could sever his Fae magic. When he regains himself: he makes a run for it. In a split second he was off his game, thrusting any and all strength out and to my bedroom window. I reach out. My fingers combing ever so slightly onto his red hoodie, but I am unable to grasp his fleeing form.

Not wasting a moment to scream or banter about- I chase after him. The window only a small obstacle as I'm lifted into the frigid night air. The stars wink at me from above: a crowd cheering for me to push on.

Blood pulsed and countered every inch of my veins. The floor was close against my bare feet, as I pursued the fleeing creature. He was very hasty and his body was fading in the darkness that the Nevada winter provided. The only thing that kept me pushing forward after twenty minutes of consecutive running was the knowledge of his strained and ragged breaths; protruding down each house on the blocks. The wisps of steam from his lungs were the only twisted remains I was able to keep in pace with.

We reached a quiet corner along the side of a neighborhood street. Following his 90° turn down the path, a wide cul-de-sac approached. The houses also ended, and along the outside of the wide circled road was the Evegrenel Forest.

The thief was already holding onto the bark of a rather large sequoia tree, turning to see where I was. Upon spotting me he winked, dipped his head once, and smoothly entered the depths of an unforgiving forest.

It was exceedingly dark and what I wanted more than anything was to conjure a fire ball in the palm of my hand: one- to keep warm, two- so I can see, and three- so I can kick some fairy-boy butt. I knew, however, that this little action could send me into a lot of unwanted attention and danger. If I cast a spell, other than rituals and potions, I could be sighted by nearby covens. It was especially hard to cast magic when I attended a school that hosted both witch and human species. Magic was against our school rules.

I stand in the middle of the roundabout, gritting my teeth and scowling at the young man who was no longer in my view. It was no use to go blindly into the forest, and I wasn't looking forward to getting my favorite pajamas ruined. If he wants someone to fall in love with him: so be it. That poor girl, or guy, is in on one ugly surprise.

I make my way back home, watching the houses turn their lights down. Every little star was coming through the orange sky much clearer than earlier and twinkled brightly against the crescent moon. Soon my lungs started grasping in the gelid air and the back of my throat was being tortured with frostbite.

A couple dogs poked their noses from under fences, yowling to be set free as the gates kept them from the world. At times I was able to communicate with animals, but I was more into the idea of potions and resurrecting than the idea of telepathy.

When I reached the property my father had founded, my numb fingers fumble to unlock the white metal front gates; then slithered into the front yard. My bare feet were battered with scrapes, the sidewalk never doing justice for the soles of my feet, so I walked on the frosty dew-sprinkled grass. Each of them blinked at me, a patient audience, waiting for me to say or do something incredible.

"Dear girl, what are you doing outside at this hour?"

My Noni was at the porch steps, a glass of red wine in her fingertips. The red substance whirled on its own, a minuscule tornado at its center. "I was going for a walk." I state, and climb the porch: being as nonchalant as possible.

"Why, with no shoes?" Noni sets her glass down, the little red tornado settling down and coming to a silent stop as she inspects my bare feet.

I nod, ignoring the pit that started to manifest in my stomach.

"Eris, you need to wear shoes. At least manage to do those pretty little toes with a nice dip of pink nail-polish!" Her laugh starts up suddenly, and she pats a spot next her on the woven bench. "My sweet grandchild, why don't you sit with me for a moment?"

A breeze lifts my lilac pajama-shirt up at the shoulders. My arms hug myself in defense, but I take a seat beside Noni nonetheless.

"I was thinking." She picks her wineglass up, taking a short sip and continuing to explain herself. "If we found you a... partner, and soon, would you... perhaps... want... no, be willing, that is... to take over the Coven?"

Once more, I am condemned to utter silence. I knew that turning seventeen was going to be a deal-breaker. I had exactly three days until I turned seventeen. During that time I have to choose a match, from the choices my family finds fit. Then I, supposedly, marry him after a year, exactly, and the binding of the families is complete.

I was completely and terminally scared for myself.

"I don't know." I state, trying to be as honest as I could be with my grandmother.

"Your mother will not be happy with the idea of anyone taking her place, but when you turn eighteen and you marry... you have the capability to take the leadership of the Sangre Coven."

I sighed, looking forward to the white-painted planked flooring. I had always found it hard to look into Noni's aging eyes. They withheld a mossy brown inside and a glazed-over blue hue. She also had a glare that makes the hairs at the end of anyone's arms rise, and a laugh that will melt the anger out of the worst of criminals. I could tell a glare was stirring; along with an attentive hiccup.

"I guess we'll have to find out when I marry, now won't we?"

"No." She snapped, a wrinkled finger jutting out toward me and between my green eyes: "You have to decide now."

I shook my head in dismay, then took the opportunity to stand up. "I don't know what I'm going to do just yet. Why can't I just run the Sangre Coven without a man? You did it: and you never married."

She takes a long swig of her red wine, a distraction for her thoughts, licking chapped lipstick from her lips. "Because." She sets the glass down, "we need a larger coven, and a man to keep you in the light... we do not need a leader who will turn dark, and kill anyone she meets."

I no longer had the need to stay outside, and quickly fumbled a pathway to the front door. Noni had no faith in my sanity. She truly believed that the prophecy of my becoming evil was completely true. It hurt to think about it, the mere thought of her unintended betrayal was a silent heartbreak.

The door was unlocked so I pushed it inward, and rushed up the stairs to my bedroom. The rest of the night I had sat on my bed, and wished my life was someone else's for one day.

Noni, after my mind traveled back to thoughts of her, assessed her point of view. I bitterly realized she spoke of some truth: without love I would turn dark, but because I am Darkness; I would never be able to feel real love.

Which meant I never really had been able love Joe. Nor was I ever in love with him to begin with.

I was the exact opposite of anything good: and everyone knew it.