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  “Trudo!” I barked as I waved my hand at him.

  Alex slipped off the stool but gained his footing easily and gave me a devilish grin. Cocky bastard.

  “Again, keep trying, afterwards, we’ll teach you how to shield yourself,” my father stated as he set about making himself a coffee. Right, he actually did sleep.

  I commanded my power repeatedly, never managing to force Alex back more than a few millimeters.

  “I will admit, this feels really weird,” Alex said as he crossed his arms.

  “You need to imagine he’s attacking you and you need to get him away,” my father called out as he brewed the coffee.

  “Right,” I muttered as I held my hand up. Imagine he was attacking me, that wasn’t too hard.

  I pictured him coming towards me, arms raised and teeth bared, but my mind took over, flashing the images of his bloody mouth over me, the pain tearing through my neck, the animalistic, hungry look in his eyes.

  “Trudo,” I gasped.

  Alex flew across the room and slammed into the couch, knocking it over and backwards with him.

  “Perfect!” my Dad clapped his hands despite Otis scrambling to his feet on the other couch, shocked awake from his sleep. I hadn’t even thought about the poor thing sleeping there.

  “What’s going on out here?!” Maria was standing in the open doorway of the bedroom with a bewildered look.

  Axle was standing in the kitchen, alert and concerned, abandoning his food to see what the commotion was as he peered at me.

  I just stared at Alex, my lip trembling as he stood up and flipped the couch up in one quick movement. But I could see it in him, the stiffness and uncertainty. He knew. He knew what I’d seen that had given me the power.

  He dragged his soft blue eyes to mine, and the pain and heartache I saw there was a kick to the gut, nothing like the eyes I’d remembered from that night. I had to look away, unable to hold his broken gaze.

  “Again,” my father instructed.

  “No!” I snapped as I balled my hands into fists.

  “I think it’s best if I go,” Alex’s soft, warm voice broke me inside. The sadness I could hear in his words.

  “Why?” my father seemed oblivious, but a quick glance revealed he was actually trying to piece together what was going on.

  “You can stay,” I murmured, barely loud enough to be heard. I had told him that I was forgiving him for what happened, that it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t mean it would still come back to hurt me at times.

  He must have heard my soft words as he took a step towards me. I fought off the urge to flinch and managed to catch his eyes again. I blinked back the wretched tears that had come forth and tried to give him a soft smile. My trembling lip didn’t help the look.

  Alex flitted over and I jumped slightly at the quick movement. He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest as I closed my eyes and willed the horrid images from my mind. I never wanted to see them again. To feel that fear towards him. I wanted to focus on the sweet moments we’d shared the night before, the kisses along my neck, the soft touches as he explored my body. A night where I’d felt loved like nothing else.

  I wrapped my arms around him as I shook, squeezing my eyes shut against the tears.

  “I’m going to take her out for some air,” Alex stated.

  I could just imagine the utterly baffled expression on my father’s face. I couldn’t explain this to him. The fact that I had feelings for the same man who’d killed me, that we cared for each other and yet that one horrid night always seemed to come back and ruin it.

  I felt the whoosh of air as Alex flitted with me in his arms, my feet raised off the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured into my hair.

  I sniffled as I nuzzled his chest, wanting to enjoy his embrace, to move on from the incident.

  “You’re not ready to move on yet,” he whispered, barely audible.

  I froze in his arms, hating the hopelessness in his voice.

  “I want to,” I argued softly.

  “Being able to and wanting to are two very different things,” Alex breathed as he rested his chin on my head.

  I drew in the deep musky scent of his cologne mixed with his tailored, dry-cleaned suit. Why was he always so understanding and wise?

  “We’ll take our time, I just need time to move on, but I don’t want this to end,” I murmured. What we were doing, this closeness we were now pursuing, it had only just started.

  “I don’t want to just trigger memories in you, it doesn’t just hurt you,” he said softly.

  I pulled back, staring at his face with my jaw jutted out. He smiled tenderly, but the pain behind his eyes made my body slump. Every time I remembered made him remember too, and the guilt, the pain, and self-hatred he had for himself would surge forth.

  “We’ll just take it slow, please?” I tried not to beg, but I knew I was pleading him with my eyes as I searched his.

  “Okay,” he eventually sighed, but it didn’t ease the pain and self-loathing I saw in him.

  I moved quickly, not wanting him to pull away as I caught his mouth in a soft kiss. He stiffened but allowed me to kiss him gently as he held me close.

  “We’ll figure it all out,” I said as I pulled away. The soft smile that danced on his lips made me relax a bit. He didn’t want this to end either, but the pain we both felt was so raw and shattering at times. But we’d get through it. We’d try.

  5

  My father didn’t ask what happened as I came back inside, Alex having headed off to work. My next shift wasn’t until tomorrow night, but depending on how things went, I doubted he’d ask me to come in if we hadn’t sorted this whole Monica thing out.

  Maria must have gone to sleep, as the bedroom door was shut and no light protruded from under it.

  Axle was now on the couch with Otis, but he raised his head as I returned and stared at me, his icy blue eyes worried.

  “We’ll practice shielding yourself,” my father stated as he waved his hand at my bedroom door.

  “What’d you just do?” I asked as I joined him in the living room near the couch where he sat perched on the edge.

  “A noise buffering spell. So we won’t wake Maria,” he said.

  “Right.” Damn, there were a lot of spells he knew. He didn’t have to say a word to get them to work either.

  “To shield yourself, the Latin term is ‘protego’ that you’d use,” my father said as he nestled back against the couch cushions.

  “Okay, protego,” I nodded as I matched his pronunciation. “I thought shielding was a rare ability, it said so in the book.”

  “It is. But we’re lucky, it runs in our lineage. The woman you read about who helped protect her men in the war, she’s an ancestor of ours,” he smiled.

  “Wow, that’s amazing,” I breathed. She’d done some incredible things and even healed people. She was written about like she was a legend. And she was our ancestor.

  “Imagine a force-field protecting you, not just your body, but your mind and spirit as well. This form of it will protect you from magic too,” he said.

  “A force-field,” I breathed as I played with the hem of my shirt, my mind drifting off to Alex. Would we be able to make this work? With the ugly incident we’d had over six months ago? Could I truly forgive him? I thought I already was on the way to full forgiveness, but that didn’t mean I’d forget. And he certainly hadn’t even begun to forgive himself.

  “Try it,” my father flicked his head at me.

  I pulled myself from my thoughts and pictured a force-field as I closed my eyes. Well, what I would imagine one to be like from all the sci-fi movies. A crackling, blue ball that encased me. That seemed right.

  “Good,” my father murmured.

  I squeaked as a pillow hit me with more force than necessary.

  “Try again,” my father said through a mischievous grin, his dark eyes flashing with glee.

  “Butthead,” I mutter
ed.

  “I’ll also teach you how to swear properly,” he laughed, and I pouted as I turned away from him.

  “Force-field, protego,” I said softly as I willed the blue bubble to protect me. I imagined it as it swirled around me, hardening with a steely, impenetrable effect.

  This time I felt the pillow hit the barrier that had started to form, but it caved beneath the object and the pillow hit me lightly in the back.

  “Good, you’re getting it,” my father congratulated.

  “Why do I need this one anyway?” I turned back to him with my arms crossed.

  “So witches and other beings can’t use magic on you, and you can protect not just yourself but others,” my father said as he picked up the remaining pillow on my couch and hurled it at me.

  I allowed myself to go translucent as I partially entered the ghost realm, and I grinned as the pillow passed through me.

  “Going ghostly or whatever you call that is all well and good, but you can’t protect those around you. Here, I’ll show you what I mean,” my father clicked his fingers and a lone candle appeared on the coffee table.

  “Damn, I want to do that,” I said as I solidified and joined him on the couch.

  “It’s not easy. Better to have your speedy vampire friend round things up,” he said. “The magical vault is one of the most recent things I’ve mastered. So don’t get your hopes up, you’re quite a way off from trying that.”

  “Or ask if I have a candle in the cupboard,” I said dryly.

  “Or that,” he chuckled as he waved his hand over the candle and it ignited.

  “You can protect yourself, but you can use a shield for many things. You can create one around others to protect them, you can use it to put out fires and stop water. It has many uses. You can also learn how to wield your fire in a way to control other fires, to extinguish them too,” he explained. “Learning to wield different elements isn’t easy, but learning one spell that can be used on many elements is much easier.”

  He held his hand out and I saw a soft barrier glow to life around the candle, its white crackling shell pulsing softly.

  “You can use it to shield everything, including allowing fresh oxygen in to fuel the flame,” he murmured. I watched in fascination as the flickering flame on the candle died down to nothing.

  “Has anyone ever done that to a person?” I asked.

  “Yes, more than once. It takes longer for someone to use up the air in their little bubble than a live flame, but it’s been done. The power we have makes us a danger to all. It’s why they hunted us down all those years ago,” he said. The understanding he spoke with, I realized he didn’t blame the Council for their actions. Those with darker minds and morals could use this power in drastic, catastrophic ways.

  “Will anyone come after me?” I murmured. He said he was here to protect me and teach me, but he never really told me if we were still being hunted.

  “Possibly, there are still those who deem us too dangerous to live. That’s why we ward ourselves, this shield protects you not just from magic, but from tracking spells and more.”

  “But it’s not really that hard, not with the internet these days,” I said. Not that I’d even logged into Facebook for quite some time.

  “It’s best if you don’t have an online presence,” he suggested as he pursed his lips.

  “Right,” I sighed. Great, there goes the random videos on Facebook I’d watch when I was bored.

  “Once you get this spell, I’ll show you how to infuse it into an object. My wedding ring, even though I used it to capture some of Monica’s magic, I usually fill it with my shield magic, to ward me and protect me from other magic,” he said as he played with the gold band on his finger.

  “How do you infuse an object?” I asked as I touched Mom’s wedding band on my finger.

  “Usually you try to choose something you keep on you often, that has meaning to you. They work the best. You can infuse magic into many things. Like how Maria created a special warding spell using a rock. Such a spell would’ve been difficult and weakened her drastically, whereas once you hone your abilities, it’ll come easily. Maria would’ve had to use a different kind of magic and spell-craft for hers, as witches don’t have as much magic inside them as we do. They need to pull it from another source. Being a psychic, she can use the magic in the ghost realm, she can harness it to aid her if needed, but it’s hard and tiring for her.”

  “Wow, okay.” I took it all in, wishing I had a way of storing all this information for later. Chances are I’d forget some of it.

  “Here, try to snuff out the flame using a shield. Then we’ll try again with one around you,” he said as he relit the candle.

  I focused hard on the flickering flame, imagining a protective bubble wrapping around it, protecting it from all things outside of it, including the very air. I could feel the power coursing through me, flooding through my veins and making my muscles quiver.

  “Protego,” I commanded as I held out my hand, imagining the energy flowing forth to fuel the shield I was creating.

  The soft blue light flickered and crackled as it attempted to build a barrier around the candle.

  My father remained silent as I focused on the shield, imagining it reconstructing itself each time it faltered. I saw the blue tendrils weave through and interlace, locking together in my mind. The soft glow pulsed a few times, and the flame flickered and sputtered as it died down.

  “You did it,” my father said in astonishment.

  I grinned stupidly at him as he gave me an equally satisfied and thrilled smile.

  “I’m actually impressed, you got that quite quickly, it took me days to get the flame to go out when my mother taught me,” he said, chuffed and proud of me. I enjoyed seeing the pride in his eyes, the way he sat up straight and puffed his chest out a bit. It made me chuckle.

  “So, I can’t remember your family at all, I’m assuming because of my memory wipe,” I said, throwing my hands up when he gave me an apologetic look. “I know you had your reasons, and I’m slowly forgiving you, but were both of your parents magical?”

  “My mother was a Sorceress, my father was a tiger shifter,” he informed me.

  “Wait, does that mean you and I have shifter in us?” I leaned forward, hanging off of the edge of the couch with my eyes wide.

  “We have shifter blood, yes, but no shifter abilities that I’m aware of,” he cocked his head. “Unless you’ve been turning into a tiger randomly?” he gave me a mischievous smile as he nudged me and laughed.

  “So shifters get together with others outside of their own kind?” I asked. I knew ‘wolves did, although it was not common in bigger packs.

  “If a shifter chooses a partner either human or witch, or Warlock/Sorceress for that matter, their abilities, their shifting abilities, can’t be passed along. A shifter is a lesser form of a werewolf, they’re believed to have originated from werewolves as they were the first true shifter. Only werewolves can breed with humans and have the chance of throwing werewolf children. Same with being turned, you can’t use shifter blood to turn someone, but werewolf blood can be used to turn someone, much the same way as a vampire can turn someone. Werewolves very rarely ever turn people though,” my father said as he leaned back on the couch.

  “Vampires can only turn two people in their lifetimes,” I nodded, pleased with the piece of information I knew.

  “Correct. Werewolves have to go through a pack hierarchy in order to turn someone, and once the Alpha decides to, they must then seek permission from the Council. If they turn without permission and the Council gets wind, they’ll hunt them down and kill the turned ‘wolf,” my father said as he closed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I sometimes forget that other people sleep, you must be tired,” I said stupidly, noting the way he yawned and struggled to open his eyes.

  “You’re lucky, not having to sleep,” he chuckled with his eyes closed.

  “Not really, I miss resting, getting sleep,
dreaming,” I sighed. Dreams, how I did actually miss them.

  “I just need a few hours sleep. Wake me up if the map shows anything, would you?” he asked as he attempted to muffle a yawn with his hand.

  “Let me get you a blanket at least,” I offered. He didn’t reject the offer as he rested, and I gathered up the pillows off the floor and grabbed out a blanket from the cupboard. I found myself carrying my first ever blanket, an old blue fleece thing that I’d gotten a local charity shop when he left after my eighteenth birthday. After Mom died. I’d had to find a job and fast or end up on the street.

  I helped him lie down and tucked the blanket in around him. As hard as I tried to remember the actual day that he left, I could only gather a few pieces together.

  A somber breakfast, bacon, eggs and toast. He looked distraught and tired, numb. I vaguely remembered trying to talk to him about colleges, how I wasn’t sure if I wanted to even go.

  I didn’t remember much after that, just that he never came home that night. Days turned into weeks and he wouldn’t return my calls, and then the line was disconnected. The bills piled up for the place and eventually I was evicted. By then I’d managed to land myself a part-time job and found myself a tiny apartment, trying to understand where my father had gone. And why he’d left me right after Mom.

  I ended up with a boyfriend who helped me pay the bills, but he wound up being abusive and I left him and moved to a new apartment. Life carried on and I focused on my future, jumping from job to job as I searched for my calling.

  Then the day of revelation happened and I questioned the world, intrigued by the fact that vampires and werewolves lived among us all this time.

  Becoming Alex’s secretary had given me a drive, and I’d made great friends in the workplace and met Maria through the firm. I enjoyed flirting with Alex, back when I was human and toyed with the danger of it all.

  How things had changed.

  I sat on the couch with Otis as I watched my father sleep. Otis had nestled against the cushions and drifted back into a deep slumber, and Axle had jumped up to join him.