Broken (The Immortal Coven Book 1) (6 page)

I felt the cell phone buzz before we heard the ringer, but regardless, the jolt I made was an obvious signal that I’d become startled by a disruption. With one swift movement I removed it from my back pocket and answered it without looking to see who it was.

“Uh… Hello?” it came out precisely how I felt, annoyed and frazzled.

“Come home.” Aunt Olivia commanded, “Dinner is almost ready.”

My eyes met Dmitri’s, our moment was lost. Team Olivia had scored 2 points against my love life in only a matter of a couple hours.

He nodded his head and got out of the car without saying anything.

“Are you there?” she asked, clearly annoyed by my silence.

“I am. I will be home in a little while.” With that, I hung up.

I got out of the car and found Dmitri waiting for me at the end of his driveway.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could say, and it didn’t even begin to express what I was feeling. As I reached him, he turned and began the walk.

How can you apologize for being mortified?

“Don’t be. I’m the one who said we shouldn’t be anything but friends, and twice over I’m the one that almost kissed you.  I’m the one who should be sorry.”

As we walked, I found myself looking over at him. Are boys so mysterious that we can’t genuinely understand them? I’ve always heard that it’s the female species that is typically found to be the confusing ones, and here I stand, stumped by a guy.

“Don’t think too much about Lisa and her friends.” He blurted out randomly.

Once more nodding, I could only agree with him on this one. “They really were nice to me today. I find it really hard to believe that they would spend all that time and energy to be my friend only to ask that I join their silly coven.”

“What do you know about covens, Celia?” Dmitri didn’t look at me when he asked, more out ahead of us.

“Well, only what my mother told me really.” And thinking back to the conversation with my mother I realize that she was really knowledgeable.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, slowing down and taking my arm. I looked up to him and couldn’t put it into words. It was a feeling I was having, like opening a book and not needing to read it because I already knew all the information inside.

It was when Dmitri shifted his position and stood directly in front of me, both of his hands holding my upper arms that I could say anything.

Like a flood, it came out. “My mother was a witch.” And immediately, I broke free to place both hands over my mouth. Shock and disbelief shrouded me.

“How do you know?” he asked, apprehensively. His expression blank, as if applying a ‘poker face’ technique so I wouldn’t know what he was thinking.

I shouldn’t be telling him this.

“Forget I said anything. Thanks for the distraction. I will talk to you tomorrow.” I said plainly, shoved past him and ran home.

CHAPTER Three

Through the picket fence and up the wooden stairs, I hollered for Aunt Olivia the moment the front door slammed behind me.

“What is wrong with you?” she shouted back, coming out of the kitchen.

“Tell me the truth, don’t lie to me anymore.” I yelled, wanting to get straight to the point.

“And what truth would that be, Celia?” she sassed, the back of her hand finding the side of her hip as usual.

I shook my head, “See there, you are deflecting. You’ve been hiding something from me, something big.”

Somewhere in Olivia’s eyes I spotted a flicker of question. She was second guessing herself.

She shifted her weight from one side of her body to the other, a clear sign of being nervous.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, and you need to calm down. We do have neighbors.” She started to turn away from me.

“I know that Mom was a witch, Olivia.” I blurted out. Instantly, she was halted in her spot. She neither looked at me, nor moved in my direction.

“And so it begins,” was all she said.

She walked into the front living room, slowly closed all the curtains and sat on the sofa. The ease of her actions, while odd, made me feel calm about what to expect.

I followed her to the sofa and sat next to her.

She took a deep breath and reached out both arm, over the coffee table, her palms facing down as if she were warming them over a fire.

In a hushed voice she mumbled,
Aperio,
as she waved her hands in a circular motion across the wooden table in front of us.

As if from thin air, objects I had never seen before appeared on the table. Half burnt candles, filled glass mason jars, bound plant leaves of some sort and a rather old looking leather bound book.

She turned to me and took a deep breath. “Yes, your mother was a witch, but she was so much more than that, Celia.”

For the first time ever, I saw Olivia through a different set of eyes. This truth about my mother explained so much in regards to my aunt and why it seemed she had been behaving so oddly.

Realizing that she had my full attention, she continued, “Your mother was a part of
The
original coven. It’s history stems back to ancient times, to the dawn of witchcraft itself.” She reached out and opened the book sitting on the coffee table. She traced her fingers on the symbol drawn on the first page.

“This symbol represents The Immortal Coven, with the one true immortal witch.”

“Immortal?” I asked, confused.

“When the circle was bound and the bloodline of the 10 families was forsaken, one of the original witches was scarified in the ritual. Her soul was magnified, and released back into the circle. Their energy became so powerful that they took measures to ensure the longevity of their succession.”

“Succession?” again, a simple easily understandable word left me in need of thorough explanation.

“The moment your mother died, her powers were transferred to you. The circle will always find a way, it is how the magic is immortal.”

“I’m a…” I started.

“Witch… yes.” Olivia finished, the smile on her face soft but almost sad.

That was when my head started to shake. Disbelief would be the understatement of the century.

A million questions started flooding my mind but I couldn’t prioritize them fast enough.

“Before we go into any of this, Celia, you need to understand one important fact.” She began, hesitating only long enough to take my hands into her own. “Your mother did everything she could to protect you from this life and the dangers in it. She wanted for you to live, and be carefree. This world, and everything that it means, is the complete opposite of what your mother wanted for you.”

“She lied to me my whole life, Olivia. You are not protecting someone by lying to them.” The moment I was done saying it I felt horrible. My eyes shot down and filled with tears.

Olivia reached out and rubbed my arms. “Sweetheart, she was buying time, letting you be happy until everything changed.”

My head shot up, “Buying time” I seethed out. “She got hit by a truck, Olivia. Her time ran out and she told me, Nothing!”

The rage quickly filled my every fiber. I stood up and paced the floor in front of the coffee table.

“Her accident is a whole other subject, Celia. Right now we need to discuss what your knowing means for both of us.”

It halted me square in front of her. “What does it mean?”

“They will know that you know. Someone will come for you and take you to the circle. You need to accept this.”

“So I don’t get a say, at all…” I started.

Olivia shot up from the sofa, “You Don’t get a say in this Celia. Your destiny can not be unwritten!” Her voice boomed through the living room.

“You’re a witch too, aren’t you?” I asked plainly.

She didn’t answer at first which took me off guard.

“Yes, I am a witch.” She finally answered as she sat back down on the sofa.

“Are you a part of the same coven?” the question came almost immediately and with equal response, “No.”

“I don’t understand you two are sisters. Why would the powers transfer to me and not to you?”

“Because your mother and I are not blood sisters,” she paused, “I was adopted by a friend of our mothers.” she admitted, looking away from me as if ashamed.

Her reaction forced me to go sit next to her and hold her. Blood or not, she was my only family. I would never willfully hurt her.

“I’m sorry for yelling earlier. I didn’t mean it.” I apologized.

“Don’t worry about it dear, this has just been a difficult situation.”

“So what happens now?” I asked, looking again at the book on the coffee table.

She flipped the pages, inattentively. “You learn what you can until they summon you. You sit tight and finish school.”

“So basically act like nothing has changed? What about the girls that want me to act like a witch with them?” The idea alone felt hopeless.

She shook her head, as if waving off the importance of the question.

Olivia reached out and took the book in her hands and lifted it towards me insisting that I take the book myself. “This is yours now. Little by little the information in this book will become like a second language to you. You mustn’t share it, or let anyone use it. It stays here, charmed by a cloaking spell when you are not in need of it.”

While the book only actually weighs a few pounds, I suddenly felt like it was keeping me grounded, much like an anvil would.

“What about the girls and their little witch group? Couldn’t they help me learn all this stuff?”

Olivia huffed and fiddled with the bound leaves at the end of the table. “I know the families, and who comes from an actual witch line. Only 2 of those girls have any craft in them, but they are not yet what they should be.”

“So don’t I just need a few to make something work?”

“You, my dear child, only need yourself. They would need at least three.” Olivia snapped back.

“What about the rest, does it make things worse when you have other people there that are just stand-ins?”

She took a moment to take in what I had just asked. “It should only be the ones with the craft.”

“Who are the ones with the history on their side?” The decision came as fast and with as much ease as I’d never known before.

“No coven crafting, Celia. Nothing over the top, keep it simple. If ever there is a time that you need help, or have done something that, God forbid, is going to cause a problem, you come to me straight away. Do you understand me?”

I was nodding in agreement before she even asked the question. “Yes, absolutely!”

“Fine, Lisa Ericson and Anabel Jensen are the two lines that have actual magic. Their families have a complete history, but I’m not going to go into that now.”

I sighed, looked down to the book and eyeballed the Immortal symbol. “Why do I feel like I’ve been looking at this sign my whole life?”

“That’s because you have seen it. Your mother had a charm on a necklace that she wore all the time. It must be in her things.”

As if almost instinctively, my head tilted to the side, “I haven’t seen this charm in any of mom’s belongings, Aunt Olivia. I don’t have it.”

“Well, we can find it. It will be the first spell I teach you.” She offered enthusiastically.

“I will draw the charm, while you go find something of your mothers. Anything will work.” She said as she took the book from me and withdrew a blank sheet of paper from inside the back cover.

I left the sofa in search of something of my mother’s from a box in the back of my closet. I sat on the floor of my room, in front of my closet and opened the sliding mirrored closet door. Pushing past a stack of shoes, I withdrew a brown cardboard box labeled, Mom.

I’d kept some of her clothes and shoes, and stuff that I typically messed with but there were a few private mementos I kept that I didn’t want the world to know about.

Opening the lid, I knew exactly what I was going to withdraw from the box. Practically on top was a small metallic box covered in colorful beads. It had always been my favorite keepsake of mothers. I opened the box and found a quartz ring she always wore as well. She told me once that it was the most special piece of jewelry she owned but never explained why.

As I reached Olivia, she seemed more peaceful than I had seen her since mother passed away.

“Did you find something?” She asked me, looking down at my hands.

“Mom’s special ring.” I reached out and went to hand it to her.

“Perfect. You hold onto that, and we will do the rest together.”

As I sat down next to her, I realized that she had already drawn the necklace symbol with a white powdery substance in front of a white candle.

“You must visualize the symbol in its material form.” She began as she withdrew a wick from a container on the table. “Light the candle, pour 1 drop of the liquid wax from the candle in the center of the symbol.” She paused, lowering her head.

“Continue.” I stated, knowing she was just making sure I was still with her.

“The moment the wax hits the surface, recite these words while visualizing your mother’s pendant. “I need what I seek, give me a peek, draw my eyes, to what’s in disguise.”

“How is reciting a little poem going to find her pendant?” I asked, honestly skeptical of what she was asking me to do. The idea that lighting a candle and saying a few words would find something lost, was pretty incredible.

“If it is nearby and you do this right, the powder will rise and lead you directly to the pendant. All you have to do is believe and visualize what you seek.” Of course she would be annoyed by my questioning something she’d obviously accomplished successfully before. The sass was back in her voice and her body had all stiffened up.

What else could I do but give it a whirl. The worst that could happen is that the powder would fly out the front door and I would be discovered. I mean, it’s not like I’d be all Salem hung in the 1
st
century….

Would I?

Giving Aunt Olivia one more glance I knew it was now or never. My first time at witch crafting and I wasn’t even wearing baby gloves.

I faced the table, took the wick from her and lit it from another nearby candle. As I reached over to my white candle, I tried visualizing mom’s pendant. With the image clear in my mind, I lit the white candle in front of the powder.

An odd feeling washed over me as I handed Aunt Olivia the wick. It was as if I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would find the pendant. There was no more skepticism as I reached out to drop the wax in the center of the drawing.

The words left my mouth and my girly voice sounded firm, confident even.  

As soon as I began, the powder lifted gradually into the air. It was incredible.

I didn’t dare stop reciting the words.

“Get up, follow it.” Olivia ordered softly.

Saying it over and over, the powder soared through the house until it reached a spare bedroom upstairs. Every single grain landed on top of a chest in the same exact shape it was in before it had left the table down stairs.

Olivia and I stood in front of it. The cat had definitely taken my tongue.

“It’s inside the box, Celia.” Her voice shook.

Wide eyed and a little freaked out, “What do I do, just open it up?”

Shifting her body to face me, Aunt Olivia gave me an obvious ‘WTH’ look.

“Fine, Fine, Fine, out of the frying pan and into the Fire!” I said as I reached down and lifted the lid of the chest. The powder disappeared as the lid became fully opened.

My eyes instantly located the pendant and also something I hadn’t realized I’d been searching for, a photograph of mom and I at the beach when I was a little girl.