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Chapter 45 – Creando Stateram (Samson Conrad POV) Pt.4

In the backseat of my mother's Audi, Fatima's head on my lap, I gaze at Imogen.

She's waiting patiently for my answer but all I can think of is how she knows all she does until an idea hits me. It is quick. It was as though I reached out and only caught the dust left behind. I only remember a few words to work with since I wasn't aware where my mind was going.

A feeding Fae – fear – Imogen.

"If Cynthia is a feeding Fae," I start softly, out loud. I shake my head, no. That's not it, I turn the three words over again. Until finally I piece it together. "Aren't you afraid she'll feed on you?"

Imogen snorted, but it was humorlessly done.

"Shouldn't you be asking if Cynthia is a feeding Fae, who has she been feeding on since she's gotten to Bend?"

"How do they feed?" I question, "Is it like – you said she knew Fatima had power since she touched her?"

Imogen and Luca both share a look that is unreadable to me at first. It was as though they were now deciding something. But all that told me was that whatever Imogen was hiding, or did not want to tell me, Luca was in on it already. He did not seem surprised at anything Imogen had said so far.

"Wait!" she hasn't even answered before I ask another question. "Does feeding kill the host?"

"There are two ways to feed, one is by contact, and the other is proximity."

"Doing it by contact means you have to physically touch the person, proximity is harder to do but better in terms of remaining concealed. Faith said Cynthia lived in Portland but was here now. Bend only has about eighty thousand people but Portland is over half a million. Let's say Cynthia needs to feed... she goes to an elementary school playground furthest from her home and she can feed on children playing outside during recess. Doing it over a larger group means she takes less from an individual."

"Why does it have to be kids?" I scowl.

Her grimace grows, "Because they have the purest auras."

How the hell does she know this?

Unless... I eye Luca for a brief moment, focusing on Imogen. "How – how do you do know this Imogen?" the silence in the car drags on, and I just shake my head.

"Drive," I order monotone. I tune Luca and Imogen out, and listen only to Fatima's heartbeat. It is not back to normal just yet. Still much faster than normal. Imogen turns in her seat facing forward, and only a few beats later Luca pulls back onto the road leading to my house.

Emotions inside are chaotic. But my thoughts are messy too.

I cannot seem to stop asking what Lydia was thinking? I mean Imogen gave me an option but why would Lydi just listen blindly to Cynthia? I also was under the impression that dad had only let Leslie, Lydia and Lia see Danny and Cynthia one time.

How did Cynthia pass along a message to Lydia?

Or worse I think; Uncle Danny is the one to instruct Lydia?

Gazing down at Fatima, I lift my index finger, trailing it along the edges of her hair on her forehead. You're something special, I think blown away.

Torn really.

I didn't want to lay blame at cousins' feet. I was going back and forth between relief that Fatima was all right and overwhelming sadness that Lydia was gone.

I loved Lydia, but I love Fa-

My eyes widen and I go stiff for a moment at the thought I stopped before I could finish it not that I didn't know what I was going to say. Swallowing I gaze down, blinking.

Oh wow.

I jerk forward and the engine quiets.

Looking around at my surroundings, the tall trees that protect my family from outsiders are all around me.

No one makes a move to get out of the car, and with the largest knot in my throat I rest my head against the window, staring up. The snow flakes falling for the gloomy gravel gray sky, one by one, sporadically, falling near and far.

There were no words for what was coming but I could only anticipate that it would be fairly disastrous. "Hmm," Fatima groans after nearly forty minutes of silence. An explosion of overwhelming proportions flows through me, my blood rushing in my veins as relief and sorrow crash into one another. "Hey Fatima," I whisper as my eyes just fill and fall over. "Can you open your eyes for me please?"

Her long lashes twitch, her eyes moving behind her closed lids. My bottom lip trembles as inside my chest everything feels as though it's in the wrong place. My heart beating too fast and lungs not getting enough air, but its too much inside me.

"Imogen, Luca, can you guys get out," I mumble as evenly as possible. Dismissing them, I just continue whispering to Fatima, and when the tears keep falling, I wipe them away furiously.

Doing as I ask, I'm left alone with Fatima, until finally, her lids slowly move. Open, revealing green, confused and unfocused eyes. "Are you hurting?" I ask when she winces. She did fall after all and it would be her luck to break a bone or something from just falling.

When she truly focuses I know straightaway. Her eyes dart around my face, eyes, looking back and forth, frowning. "What-" her eyes widen before she finishes and I know then she remembers what happened or maybe was going to happen.

Pushing her self up, I miss the warmth she radiates when it's gone. "Lydia?" she whispers and all I can do is nod slowly. I do not trust my voice. Hell I do not believe I could speak if I wanted too. "She – I was in the Home Economics classroom work on my midterm fashion project?" she asks me more than she firmly states.

Swallowing thickly, my chest beating frenetically, I hold my breath as fear rushes through me. I'm not exactly sure why. It's not because of Fatima, but of what was happening now. How did we go on from here? What would change?

"She just – she was holding my-" she stops eyes going to her forearms. A finger tracing the bruises of where there were once actual crescent shaped indents. "She was trying to take something from me, it felt like she was – like she was draining, no... like – like she was emptying me out?" I nod again, eyes filling, brimming over, and falling over my cheeks, where I brushed them away irately.

"The more she pulled, the more my body resisted," the both of us sniffle, but in that moment I wonder: what type of spell was this? One that was meant to kill Fatima? It just happened that somehow, someone thought to protect Fatima? "I – I think I remembered a few new things too, but-" she says unsure but that was normal. With Fatima when she recalled something from her younger days it was always approached with this uncertainty.

Was she actually remembering something that happened?

Or was it a mind trick?

Did this moment even happen?

The knot in my throat grows as Fatima takes a shuddering breath, "then it just – she was getting everything from me but – it just stopped," her racing heart doesn't let up.

"I – if Cynthia – I don't think I can stay here," she whispers brokenly, and looking away from me. Blinking, my eyes open widely, and my heart does the impossible. I swear it stops and starts again galloping inside my chest.

What do I say?

There were a number of things I could because I thought them all at once:

Lydia is dead Fatima; she cannot come after you again.

Only then I realize, if not Lydia, then someone else.

If you want to run, we run Fatima. Where would we go?

I couldn't promise that no one would hurt Fatima but to date, she needed a break.

I'm analyzing her voice I find as well. The tone, the dejectedness that coats her words and that she had to look away from me to say the words. Does that mean she doesn't want to leave me? Us? The family?

"She's gone," I whisper, our eyes immediately connecting again. Mine in sadness, hers in surprise and then fear. "It's not your fault," I blurt out, "You wouldn't hurt anyone Fatima," I rush to say. Her chest begins rising, and falling rapidly with an uneven pattern as she looks around at her surroundings again.

I follow her eyes when they land and remain on Imogen and Luca, "Rhys," she whispers confusing me. I'm just licking my dry lips to correct her; worried that maybe she had hit her head. That she was confused, but she closes her eyes, face going serene. "Rhys and Seraphima," her eyes snap open as a car approaches.

"Fatima?" I blink. "What?" Who the hell were Rhys and Seraphima? Did Imogen and Luca remind her of these two people? Did she fall and hit her head? Was this a false memory?

"Did I kill her?" she whispers brokenly. I'm shaking my head instantly, "I – even – it's not your fault," that's all I know. "Imogen was there, she said you never said a word, you didn't move at all," Fatima looks from Imogen then back to me. Eyes welling up.

And here is where it became tricky, even in my grief I knew where they blame had to be placed and truth be told I didn't have all or any answers.

"I'm sad that – that she's gone... but Fatima, there is no way any blame can be placed at your feet."

Her dubiousness was clear.

"You – Lydia isn't supposed to be even practicing magic," I blurt out, saying the same things that I hoped would be mentioned. There was no way to go around the truth here. Right? "She was – I walked in on it happening Fatima, I tried to stop her from whatever she was doing to you," that shouldn't be forgotten.

I'm assaulted by pins and needles it feels like, as I finish my point. The heaviness in my heart grows and I find I'm getting incensed.

And worse of all, it's directed solely at Lydia.

"She knew right from wrong Fatima," I whisper, rousted. "Lydia knew right from wrong and dad gave her a direct order. Sure he cannot command her to stay away from you, but he warned her."

"She did not listen. What happened is not because you did wrong, but because Lydia knew it was iniquitous. Why would she wait until you were partially alone? Why – why would she force the door lock? Why didn't we know she practiced magic?" I ask Fatima, leaning closer to her, our faces just inches apart as I reach over to hold her face in my hands.

She shakes her head, or tries to but my grip though meant to be soft and tender, remain firm in that moment.

"I hurt people," she utters words that only add to the intense emotions I have swarming inside me. "That's – that's not true," I could swear by that.

"You've helped me," I whisper roughly, my honesty as bright and barefaced like the sun.

"What has happened is Lydia's fault and Lydia's alone. Whatever her driving force was, that doesn't make it right," I say thinking of what Imogen had said. If Cynthia had gotten Lydia to do this, try and steal Fatima's power, then that was that. But Lydia wasn't Amy or Simon. Unquestionably, she realized that it was immoral, why else wait after school to corner Fatima?

In the same moment, while there were so many things I craved to say to Fatima, it wasn't the time. Hell, I don't think I could get the words out without my emotions confusing her.

The owner of the car approaching pulls up right next to my mothers' car, the driver immediately getting out once the car was in park. Slipping fluidly, Nick Romas slams the door behind him, his eyes fire as he narrows them at his son and Imogen. Partially hidden by the two outside and the darkened windows, I watch as Nick shakes his head at Luca, before peering down at Imogen.

"I invite you into my home, and this is what you do-"

"Don't talk to her like that. You have no idea what you're talking about dad, this entire disaster could have been eschewed but your thirst for omnipotence knows no bounds," Luca spits.

I always believed that Nick Romas cared for Imogen as a daughter. He welcomed her on family trips, events, everywhere. Hell, Lennon and Imogen were connected at the hip. As though I'm only now seeing Nick Romas for the first time, he takes a menacing step closer to Imogen and Luca.

"If either of you imagine for a minute that I would let a half breed deconstruct my efforts, you have both been wholly misinformed." Turning back to Fatima, I do not expect her to be as close as she is, her face just inches from mine. Warm breath felt against my skin. Without permission, my stare leaves hers succinctly, as I cast a fleeting glance at her lips. When I focus on her eyes again, undecided and tempted, I take in her deer in headlights expression. Closing my eyes, I inhale sharply, swallowing thickly before I move myself away.

The desire to kiss Fatima not new, but greatly increased. When she's ready...

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.

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Danny Conrad POV

Something was wrong, my stomach churned unpleasantly, empty as well but I fight the desire to curl into a ball cradling my head. Instead, I push myself to a seated position, staring at a sleeping Cynthia.

My heart pounding inside my chest, I clearly, recall her instructions whispered to my Lydia. Cynthia was teaching her magic.

Why? How could neither of them tell me?

Resting my head back, I wait for her to wake; turning over and over inside my head the idea that everything I knew was falling apart. The foundation I thought impenetrable was withering away as each minute went by since we crossed the Bend town limits.

I remain statue still for some time before finally, Cynthia shows signs of waking, her body slowly coming alive. Stretching out she groans, pushing herself up on all fours before sitting on her ankles.

Though my mouth is dry, I force myself to say the words, "Since when, do you teach Lydia magic?" I croak out, low and rough.

Surprised, Cynthia whips her head to face me, eyes wide and fearful, "I – I was – we wanted to tell you, we were – we were just afraid." I frown.

"Afraid to tell me, but not afraid to practice magic that can call attention to our family?" I don't have the energy to even shout, but I wouldn't even if I did, my head cannot stand the volume level I was speaking at now.

Though I remain still, Cynthia comes over closer, as far as the chains she's tethered too will let her. Eyes pleading and the same as I remember but the coldness inside me remains, "I would never put our children – our family at risk-"

"Doing magic is putting us at risk Cynthia-"

She shakes her head, "The spell I gave her, it's going to save us Danny. She'll be able to free us so we can leave this place, break the spell your mother-"

"The only way to break that spell is by killing my mother," I spit. Again Cynthia shakes her head, "No, when she hit me, I felt her power," she whispers as though she has a reason too.

"Lydia can harness it, and break the spells and let us out of here and then we will leave, or – or we won't be powerless Danny."

I remain silent, my thoughts disconnected and missing the knowledge that Cynthia obviously had. "How does the spell work?"

She frowns looking away for a minute.

"The. Truth." I say breathing heavily, narrowing my eyes into tiny little slits.

"It's a spell that gathers her life power," Cynthia says evenly. "By her you mean, the girl, Faith?"

She nods once.

"Life power?"

"Lydia will drain as much as her life as she can-"

"Kill her?" I call it what it is, horrified.

She would turn our daughter into a murderer?

"She was never meant to survive," Cynthia says coldly.

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