Through the wooden slats, I could make out Jovi standing beneath us.
“Aida, we need to get going,” he called up.
Both of us leaned forward to wave.
“Coming,” Aida replied.
“Hey, Serena.” Jovi waved at me, flashing me a charming smile.
“Hey, Jovi.” I smiled down at him. Aida’s brother was another example of The Shade’s ability to produce fine-looking creatures, but he was my cousin so I really couldn’t see him in that way. I’d been especially close to him growing up.
“How are you?” he asked, while his sister climbed down.
“Good. Parents agreed to let me go to some college open days!” I said, sharing my good news. Jovi’s smile became kind of fixed.
“You know we’d all much prefer you didn’t leave us,” he replied.
“Don’t you start too,” Aida interjected, nudging her brother in the chest. “She’s just had her dad and brother to deal with.”
He muttered something to her that I couldn’t make out, before throwing her over his broad shoulders, still looking disappointed.
“It won’t be forever,” I replied. “What’s a few years to a supernatural?”
He shrugged, shifting on his feet, before sighing. “Okay… Well, see you later I guess,” he called back, starting to walk back in the direction of their home.
As I watched them disappear through the trees, I felt a slight tug at my heart. As anxious as I was to leave The Shade for study, deep down, I knew with every fiber of my being that I would miss my crazy family just as much as they missed me.
Vita
[Grace and Lawrence’s daughter]
I stared at the small flame flickering in the jar. The tea candle had almost entirely melted into runny, see-through wax. Next to the jar were six other empty candle foils—evidence of today’s mounting failure.
Leaning back against the tree, I sighed in frustration. The one thing I was glad for was that there was no one around to witness my dismal attempts. I was sitting in a secluded spot by the Sanctuary, a small plot of land that Ibrahim and Corrine had kindly gifted me to grow herbs and flowers and practice my abilities. The growing part was coming along well—the plot of land was lush with bushes of sage, feverfew, lemon balm, St. John’s wort and devil’s claw. I had grown them patiently, attending to them like they were small children, and reaped the rewards.
With my own abilities the opposite was true. It seemed like the more I tried, the harder it got. Sometimes, seemingly at random, my abilities would burst to the surface—an erratic breeze, or water from the tap running over onto the kitchen floor—but never in a way that was even remotely helpful, or when I wanted it to happen. Once I’d even managed to set my mom’s curtain ablaze with a scented candle. She’d tried to be pleased that my abilities were surfacing, but the house just smelt burnt for about three weeks.
Refocusing, I concentrated on the near-dead candle. It fizzled, crackling, but then went out completely.
“Why won’t you just work?” I groaned, taking out the dead candle and replacing it with a new one. I lit a match, and the candle spluttered to life. Placing the jar back on the ground, I held my hands over it and closed my eyes, willing the flame to rise up.
My temples started to throb from the effort, and I leaned back against the tree, wondering whether I should go and visit Serena, see if she couldn’t gift me with some much-needed energy. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d funneled her energy into me though a mind-meld to help me with my studies, but it was getting late.
The bushes rustled behind me, and I turned my head around to see Zerus emerging from the back door of the Sanctuary.
“Any luck today?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Absolutely nothing. I swear I’m getting worse.”
The sentry laughed and came to sit down next to me. Zerus was the only person I didn’t mind being around while I practiced. I felt that, above everyone in The Shade, even my best friends, Zerus was the one who understood me best. We were both majorly introverted, and tended to keep to ourselves. Zerus, with his night-time walks and his insistence that he slept outside in the woods, was even more socially awkward than I was. I could practically see his energy draining away from him if he spoke to anyone for more than ten minutes, but it wasn’t like that when it was just the two of us. We could both be ourselves, sometimes sitting in silence for hours and not saying a word.
Zerus was one of the older members of The Shade. He had refused to become a vampire, politely declining the request, and his handsome features would continue, slowly but surely, to show signs of age.