I swallowed down my pride as I walked into the old-style office, the springs on the screen door slamming it shut as soon as I entered, like a trap. It practically was a trap.

A bulb hung from the ceiling on a wire, providing the only light. A nearing ancient metal heater hummed in the corner, making the room almost unbearably hot and sticky, but also giving the air a hellish red tint. Flytraps hung from the ceiling like entangling vines and ugly party decorations.

Our Coven leader, Martear, turned around, his fists clenching and unclenching. His mouth was tightened into a sneer. He smacked his hand on the oak desk and I jumped, my body quivering and shaking.

Martear Yupos was a short man with short black hair and a short temper. He had dark skin and a pair of even darker, soulless eyes. He was fit and muscular, not only strong magically but also physically.

"You can't even sneak into his coven without being caught, can you Lennox?" He yelled, his anger freezing and hanging in the air, despite how morbidly stuffy it was. "I give you one mission... a small one. And you FAILED!? God, what a screw-up."

I looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. If I met them I'd have to face his wrath, the dark hazel eyes that looked like fire melting gold. I'd have to fess up that he was right.

"I'll make it up to you," I whispered, desperately trying to make the situation better. All I wanted was a, "you tried." Maybe even a complimentary, "You'll do better next time." I should have realized that with Martear, that was a pipe dream.

He laughed sarcastically, the sound loud and obnoxious, overlapping even the humming of the old heater. "You'll... you'll make it up to me? You're damn right you'll make it up to me. We need to know if the rumors are true."

I massaged my temples, sighing heavily. "I'm not powerful enough to—"

"Then die trying." He waited for me to have a snappy comeback like I usually did, but I was too tired. He shut his eyes in irritation. "Get out of my office." Martear flicked his hand, shooing me away. I took no hesitation in leaving, ready to separate myself from the both terrifying and hideous look on Martear's face.

I wished I could leave this witch coven for good, sail off into the night forever. But the coven was all that was protecting me at this point. I was already known as a spy, a liar, a backstabbing witch. I was only 24 and yet I was drowning in rumors and lies about me. But the worst thing was, was that most of the rumors were true and most of the lies had a foundation of reality.

I was a spy. I was a liar. I was a backstabbing witch. I could own up to those, no matter how bad it sounded. But it was always for my protection. Other supernaturals never understood that, they couldn't understand about giving up their honor for their life. Honor and pride was almost a trait of being supernatural at this point.

I yawned, the moon slowly disappearing as the sun rose. I didn't sleep last night and yet here I was, getting chewed out by the coven leader. On my birthday.

A small shimmer in me hoped that maybe someone would care, care enough to at least say happy birthday. But I didn't get my hopes up.

I looked at my watch. 6:01 a.m. I would officially be 25 in one minute. Not that it mattered.

I didn't say anything as I walked out of the small building. It was only a wooden shack type with a swinging screen door. Nothing fancy.

The entire coven reminded me of homes out in the mountains, a trailer park with a few pretty houses. It was messy and always cold, the air almost looked blue. The trailers were run down and old, the insides disgusting and filled with concoctions of half-done spells and cockroaches.

I walked into the woods, the familiar scent of pine trees was both comforting and relaxing. It was a cool, brisk, morning in the beginning of Fall in Minnesota. I breathed out, my breath freezing in the air, creating a cloud. It wasn't my ideal weather but really it was only the northern states plus Canada that Supernaturals could populate. Every other state was crowded or didn't have enough dense forests.

I walked to a specific tree in the woods, one that had my name carved into it, and climbed up to the top. My skin felt raw and thin, easily hurt. I hated this weather. I hated this state. I hated this coven.

I looked at my hands. "Calefaciat." I said and a flame flickered into my palm. It didn't look like much but it spread heat through my entire body. It would never burn anything and I think a human could touch the flame only to find that it was warm. Fire spells were the first spells a witch learned.

I sat on a neon green hammock, hung up in the tree my leg underneath me swaying slightly. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to sleep but coming to no avail.

Something about today seemed off and my witchy senses were tingling. Everyone had it, the sixth sense. Even humans. Of course, a Supernatural's sixth sense was heightened by tenfold.

I started to think about a warmer place, a happy place, back when I lived in Arkansas instead of this train wreck.

Back when my coven loved me, helped me, taught me. But that coven burned to the ground a year ago when an enemy witch snuck in. Eighty percent of my coven died that day, my mother and father included.

All of the leftover witches just kind of... scattered. I remembered hearing that my mom once lived here a long time ago, that I was even born close to this place, and figured this would be a good place to go, considering, my mom could've only come from a good coven. She was kind and caring and compassionate. So her old coven must have been too? Apparently, I missed the fact that she ran from here because she was nothing like these people. 

My eyelids got heavier and heavier and the sun rose higher and higher. The flame in my hand shut out, my power no longer concentrated.

My head fell, my body relaxed.

And then someone screamed.

I jolted and I felt the hammock below me, or actually quite the opposite. I didn't feel the hammock below me.

I was falling, hitting every branch on my way down to the ground.

I landed with a thud and groaned, rolling onto my stomach and coughing. "It's 6am, what the fuck," I muttered to myself.

I tried to stand but fell back down onto the ground and whimpered. I looked down at my leg, a stick poked into it.

I screamed into my arm, tears pricking at my eyes. I pulled the stick out and pressed my hand against the wound.

"Integana." I seethed out, and saw my hands glow a pale blue color. My leg went numb and the wound closed, pain leaving my body.

I laid in the fallen, wet, leaves for a moment.

Was it worth my time to see who was screaming? Was it my business? Probably not. I stood up and looked down at myself. I was a mess myself, I couldn't help someone else.

I started my climb back up the tree when the scream sounded again, this time louder and more blood-curdling.

I smacked the trunk and started jogging to the sound of the scream. About a minute into my jog I heard voices, off to the side but close.

"... can't shut her up!" I froze and ducked behind a thick pine tree. I couldn't see anything but by voice recognition I knew it was the coven leader, Martear.

Someone else grumbled. "It doesn't matter." I made out the other voice to be Martear's second man, Joseph. He was even worse than Martear. There were some lines Martear wouldn't cross, even I knew that. But there was nothing Joseph wouldn't do. "Her pack can't hear her out here."

Pack? Like a werewolf pack? I gulped. The last thing I wanted to do was be in a coven that waged war against the werewolves.

Alpha Arlis Barron, the most powerful person in the world as of now, led them. And I... I didn't want to be on his shit list.

"Please. I won't— I won't tell anyone that you took me." She sounded weak but she wasn't crying. It made me kind of root for this girl. I would've been crying already. Then again, werewolves were more resilient than witches.

One of them scoffed. "You bet your ass you won't. 'Cuz you ain't leaving." Joseph laughed sardonically. To me though it just sounded like he was A) Trying to hard and B) Wheezing.

I peeked around the tree, thankful that Martear and Jospeh were facing the opposite direction, away from me.

I couldn't see the girl who was crying, Martear's pudgy and muscular body hid her from my view.

"Please... just let me go." She whined.

"What do you think, Joseph? Get rid of our biggest weapon?" Martear joked.

He walked towards Joseph, finally giving me a clear view of the girl.

And once I got a view my heart boomed so loud I was sure Martear could hear it. I had seen my fair share of pretty women. Supernaturals seemed to have the genes for beauty but none were like her.

Her eyes weren't blue, but instead a cognac brown/red. They were big and curious, holding a special light to them. She had a round face and sharper cheekbones. Her heart shaped lips were smooth, I could tell that from even this far away, and a shade of light red. Her hair reminded me of fire, red and wild. It went down to her waist in near perfect ringlets.

We made short, brief, eye contact and then she looked away. Thank God she didn't give away my position.

"Help me." It sounded like she was pleading Martear and Joseph but I knew better, she was asking me.

Martear got down on his knees in front of her.

I smelled her chains from here, doused in Lotus poison.

Modern retellings tell you what kills each Supernatural but they're not right all the time. Yes, silver can kill a werewolf. No, wooden stakes don't kill a vampire. But humanity doesn't assume anything about the Lotus Flowers. Each species has its weakness, but there's one we all had in common... Lotus Flowers. The only person immune to it was Arlis Barron of the werewolves.

What could I do? I couldn't stand up to Martear and I couldn't fight both him and Joseph off. But what kind of a person was I if I let this werewolf get hurt?

I bent down and picked up a rock, shrugging. Old school here we go.

I threw the rock as far as I could in the opposite direction. It wasn't a small rock and it hit a tiny tree, making the tree rustle.

"Who's there!?" Martear asked.

I heard footsteps run towards the spot. This was my chance.

I turned and ran towards the girl, the space around her was open and created a clearing. Bad for me, I had no more cover.

"Thank you so much," She whispered, her voice angelic and harmonious, but also fractured and pained. "I don't know what—"

She was interrupted by my screams. Two Lotus doused chains shot up from the ground and wrapped themselves around me, holding me to the ground on my knees.

I closed my eyes as my body began to sweat, the air not cool enough for me.

"Well if it isn't Lennox Strato?" Martear stepped in front of me, an evil yet happy look on his cocky face.

"Capitis dol—" I tried to yell out a curse, like an actual spellbound curse not the F-bomb, but Joseph put his hand over my mouth from behind me.

They say that a focused and angry Salem Of The Old Witch could perform spells without talking. But... I wasn't a Salem Of The Old Witch so I couldn't.

Salem Of The Old Witches were the first ten witches to ever be made and their children, and their grandkids and so on. They were extremely powerful. However, they were all extinct now. They had all decided that having children could be dangerous and that they themselves were dangerous, and they wiped themselves clean.

"You already fucked up once today. Are you out to do it again?" Martear asked, crouching down in front of me.

I did the childish thing and tried to lick and bite Joseph's hand but nothing I did made him release his hold over my mouth.

Martear stood up and turned to the girl. "I guess I should properly introduce you two." He turned and winked at me. "This is Cressida Ross. Joseph, you can let go of his mouth. He won't do anything but introduce himself."

Joseph removed his hand. I glared at Martear. "Capitis dolor!" I yelled at him.

He shrugged at me. "You're in Lotus doused chains, boy. You can't perform magic right now. Now, introduce yourself to this... lovely... lady."

"As much as I hate you, Martear, I have to warn you. Messing with the werewolves is the dumbest decision you've ever made!" I looked around the clearing, almost as if the werewolves were closing in on us. They can smell their pack members. They have trackers for these types of scenarios.

Martear was confused for a moment, just a flash, before realization hit him. "Oh you think... you think Cressida is a werewolf?" Martear chuckled. "No she's not a werewolf, son."

It was my turn to be out of tune. "What do you mean?"

Martear licked his lips at her, his face proud and amused. "Well... she's a weeper."

I widened my eyes as the girl hung her head. "That's almost worse! A Weeper!? Martear, are you insane!?"

Weepers were a species of secluded supernaturals that lived out in the woods. They looked human, for the most part. If you paid close enough you could see that their eyes had a slight glow to them. The other distinguishable trait to them not being human, were there silver tears and blue blood.

They couldn't heal fast but only because they didn't have blood at all. They had Venguine; it's a blue, poisonous, blood that could infect and kill a man if they drank it. It only worked if it was drank within one minute of harvesting however.

But this wasn't the reason Supernaturals kidnapped and tortured them. They did it for their tears.

When Weepers cried, their silver tears could be drank. They could show you your enemy's greatest weakness, giving you an advantage over them. It was something people were willing to die for. But... you didn't always get this.

You could also see your own biggest fear, and drive you to go insane. People killed themselves sometimes if they saw it. The only way to go back to sanity, to regain your humanity, was through facing your fear.

It was illegal by the Hunters to take a Weeper's tears if they didn't voluntarily give you them. The Hunters were another species, immortal supernatural cops basically. They didn't kill everyone, just the law-breakers.

"I'm quite sane." He pulled out a blade and held it threateningly in her direction. "Now, I need you to cry for me." He ordered.

The girl held steady. "No."

It was a miracle she wasn't crying. Weepers cried easily, too easily. They cried when threatened, hurt, just sad.

He grabbed her arm. "Cry or you will bleed."

She smiled at him. "Do whatever. I'll never give you my tears." She blinked at him. "And if you ever get them, I hope you go insane."

My chains disappeared, my skin stopped burning, and I felt my magic return to my veins. I looked to Martear who grabbed my hand and dragged me away, out of Joseph and the girl's hearing.

"I've been trying to get her to cry for four days." He said.

"Maybe you should stop." I yelled, gesturing to her. "Martear this is a terrible idea. She's a Weeper. A Hunter will track you down and kill you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Nobody knows I took her. I need you to do me a favor."

I shook my head. "No. I'm leaving. I'm leaving this coven, Martear."

Martear smirked at me. "And go where? Anywhere you go you'll be considered a spy and a liar."

I shrugged. "Oh well. I already live in a tree here, I can do that somewhere else."

Martear pushed me against a tree, grabbing my shirt. "If you do this favor I will clear your slate. And tell you what happened to your Coven."

I pushed him away. "Dont talk about my Coven, you know nothing! And how will you do that?"

"I'll talk to the supernatural court and tell them I compelled you." Martear took a deep breath. "I know lots about your Coven, Lennox."

The Supernatural Court were the leaders from each of the eight supernatural species. One leader per species who talked for all of us. The leader of the witch species wrote down every single mess up or record of you so that if you wanted to go to a new coven, they can pull up your file.

"I don't trust you." I sneered. I didn't. He didn't know anything about my Coven. He couldn't clear my name. He was just lying, lying to get me to do what he wanted once again.

Martear grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "We'll make it a magic deal." He said. "A binding by blood deal."

This was a deal that you only made if you were sure you could uphold your side. They were deals that if you broke, you died.

"What's your favor?" I asked, glaring. If he knew what happened to my Coven, I needed to know.

He clapped my shoulder. "I knew I could convince you."