Night Shadows

by Billiejo Priestley

  “I keep seeing a vision of you; one that I’m praying isn’t true.” He doesn’t want to say it out loud or have her know. He lets her down gently and they both start to collect their clothes, dressing again in silence. Aileen’s gaze stays fixed on him, confused, as she waits for him to finish getting dressed.

  “Cayson, you can’t say that and then say nothing else. What is it that you see?”

  He turns and smiles slightly.

  “It is more than just seeing, Aileen. I feel everything; it’s you, but a different you. You’re a Monventla, surrounded by death and dead bodies.”

  She stares at him shocked, why would he see things like that?

  “Look, Aileen, don’t worry about it. It’s probably nothing. It's just my mind inventing things because of how things went with Yasmine, and your parents and everything; that’ll be all it is.” His words don’t even reassure him, never mind Aileen.

  “I think we should stay away from each other,” says Aileen. Cayson stares at her shocked, opening his mouth to reply before she continues to talk. “I don’t want to become that, Cayson, the fact it’s you seeing me in that way means it’s caused by us two being together. I find it weird that you see me like that right after sex.”

  “Wow… okay.”

  Cayson shakes his head slightly in disbelief. “If you really believe that then go, Aileen. Go to the witches; enjoy your life with them. I thought you’d accepted that this was a risk, and that you understood I just turned my back on the whole damn pack for you!” His words get louder as he talks. He doesn’t want to shout but this hurt.

  “I’m sorry, Cayson, I need to be with the witches. That vision you keep seeing is just more proof of that.” She turns and walks out, feeling a tear fall from her eye. Her heart is screaming at her to go back, while her mind is telling her this is the only way. She begins walking to the graveyard, more tears spilling down her face. If it’s so wrong, why does it hurt so much to walk away? She feels her body making the journey, almost trancelike, her mind elsewhere, and when she arrives at the graveyard Camille welcomes her with a smile.

  “It was always going to happen, Aileen, witches don’t belong with werewolves. Do you want to come to the main house and meet some of the others?” She looks at Aileen with a warm, open expression, waiting for an answer to her question. Aileen glances behind her, feeling like she needs to run back to Cayson but resisting, her head nodding slowly as she begins to follow Camille to the house. Walking in through the huge, opposing front door, she sees a few people sitting around and talking, their words trailing into silence as they look at her with wonder.

  “Everyone, this is Aileen. Aileen, these are just a few of the local witches, there are more of us elsewhere, of course.” Aileen nods, standing still, feeling out of place among these witches. But she has no choice, she has to belong. She can’t stay with Cayson. The voices gradually pick up again, getting over the surprise of seeing someone new.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Aileen; I’m Zander, a descendant of the Vossen bloodline.” Aileen looks at the clear-skinned young man, his dark hazel eyes a pool of warmth.

  “Hi,” she responds shyly. She tries to calm herself down.

  “So, are you staying here or what?”

  Aileen looks to Camille for an answer, unsure of the response.

  “Yes, she is staying here. So catch us up on what happened since I last saw you, Aileen. Any more memories?”

  Aileen sits down, someone handing her a cup of tea.

  “Two sugars and a drop of milk, just how you like it.”

  Aileen glances to the woman, confused.

  “Sorry, I’ve been practising my magic. I can easily sense simple things like that.”

  She simply nods in response and thinks back to what has happened since she left so she can answer Camille.

  “I’m not sure if I’ve seen anything else, but something did happen. I was walking home and Dan – my ex – showed up; he isn’t him anymore, though. I remember panicking, thinking I was going to die and something happened. I somehow pushed him away without touching him and he flew across the field. There were words I couldn’t understand coming out of my mouth and he was screaming in pain.” Everyone in the room suddenly stops talking and looks at her in shock, their eyes wide.

  “Can you remember what you were saying?” Camille asks.

  “Cayson said it was Latin but I can’t remember. I don’t know Latin.”

  “How?” demands Zander. “How can she just do that without drawing the power from somewhere else?”

  “She drew the power from him, the vampire, from nature, from the world. She is like Serliciaus, only stronger.”

  The twelve pairs of eyes trained on her grow wider.

  “Who is Serliciaus?” She vaguely remembers hearing the name in one of her visions.

  “Serliciaus was the first ever witch. He/she, no one knows. Stories say the Serliciaus removed their gender so they were not defined in a way that affected their magic, or others’ views, on what they could accomplish. Serliciaus lived for hundreds of years; they had the power to alter and stop their growth, the power to change things, they didn’t need to call upon the ancestors to get the power. They could draw it from people, electric, light. Never have I heard of a story where Serliciaus drew power from an immortal, the earth, and such,” Zander explains, his face the picture of awe.

  “Which makes you the most powerful witch ever and not just that but a target to everyone, Aileen. You need to be careful who you spend time with. I don’t understand how you can have so much power.” Camille looks at her confused, Aileen sensing jealousy from within Camille but ignoring it.

  “The other day, the memories I saw, I was telling Cayson that I didn’t just see everything, but I felt it all too. I felt those witches be drained of their magic and life, and a sense that it had been siphoned into my parents, only when I saw the vision; I saw that same light float from my parents into me. Cayson said he thinks that this Serliciaus took over my parents to draw the magic out of the witches they killed, and that when I remembered the memories, it then seeped into me.”

  “As much as I hate the werewolves, I have to agree with Cayson. No witch has the power to take another's magic by killing them or to give things like that over in a memory. Someone or something helped them.”

  “Someone, you mean someone, not something, Camille. It is clear it is Serliciaus, the power and everything.” Zander says.

  “Or it could be something else. We don’t yet know if what it’s doing is good, we’re just making assumptions and hoping it’s good. It could be something darker; we must prepare for that eventuality.” Aileen glances to Camille, confused.

  “Okay, well let's stop this talk for now and eat? Because I am starving,” Zander laughs and stands up. A woman approaches, laughing, standing beside him and fondly shaking her head.

  “You never stop eating,” she says.

  “I like my food, what can I say?” Zander smiles as they walk out of the room together, through a different huge door.

  “Come on, food will be on the table.” Camille smiles gently and walks to the door, Aileen following as they get through everyone who is already sitting down.

  “Here, Aileen, come sit with me.” A young girl waves towards her, she can’t be much older than fourteen. Aileen walks over and sits down.

  “I’m Azalea Deamonne, I’m an orphan too.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Azalea, have you lived here your whole life?” Aileen smiles at her as they begin eating.

  “Yes, I have. Camille has been like my mother since my parents died. A spell went badly, I guess, so for nearly thirteen years I have lived here. I’ll be fifteen soon.” Aileen nods smiling.

  “It’s good you had a family around you who knew who you really were.” Maybe things would have been different if she had had a family who knew she was a witch, but she’ll never find out.

  “Don’t you have a family?” The young girl looks at Aileen, confused.


  “I do, yes, a mother and sister, but they aren’t witches and they don’t know I am either. To them, I’m Olivia, just simple human Olivia who can only get things wrong.” That’s all she ever seemed to be told by her mum and Mel: don’t do that, you got that wrong, you shouldn’t have done that.

  “I get everything wrong, especially trying spells. Camille gets angry sometimes.” Aileen nods with a small smile.

  “With getting things wrong though lessons are learnt, aren’t they, Azalea? You learn what you did wrong and not to do it next time,” she reassures her, she’s a child and shouldn’t be feeling how she did.

  “I guess we could practice magic together,” Azalea grins gleefully.

  “Azalea, no,” Camille interrupts firmly, drawing the attention of the room. “Sorry, but Aileen needs to concentrate on what she was guided to do by the ancestors, not play silly spell games with you.”

  Aileen shakes her head. “It is fine, I am happy for us to practice together for an hour or two a day if you want.” Aileen glances to Azalea, her head nodding as she smiles.

  “She is just on edge, Aileen.” Zander whispers in her ear. She nods in response but even if she is on edge, there’s no reason for her to be rude, especially not to someone as young as Azalea. Aileen gets the sense that Camille is in charge of everyone, yet everyone seems to want to hide from her. The rest of the meal passes quietly without any disruptions.

  “Give me an hour to clear my head and see if I can figure out some things, and then we can practice magic together. What are you trying to do that you struggle with?”

  “I need to try to learn to track someone using one of their objects.”

  Aileen nods and smiles. “Give me an hour.” She stands up, Camille standing at the same time.

  “I will show you to your room,” she says. They walk through the house in silence, Aileen not wanting to talk as she can sense Camille is unhappy.

  “This is it.” Camille opens the door before turning to walk away. Aileen walks in, glancing at the wooden table stacked with candles and objects before sitting on the bed, letting her body fall back.

  “Okay, mother, help me,” she mutters to herself as she gets up from the bed and kneels at the table. She places her hands on it, palms down, as she closes her eyes. “I want to know where Cayson is.” She closes her eyes, having no idea how to do it and just hoping it works and that words come out again. She sees a house, the house she went with Cayson to that Gwenael was at. Her eyes stay fixed on the house; is that where Cayson is? She keeps her eyes closed, feeling drawn to the house more and more, the image of Cayson growing brighter in her mind. She opens her eyes realising she did it, but that time she didn’t say words, it was just silent. Is that normal?

  There’s a light knock that prompts her to walk to the door, opening it to discover Azalea holding a map and a small bead.

  “So I’ve been instructed to find out where the teddy is that this bead belongs to,” she says as she walks into the room. Aileen nods, watching as the young girl clears the table, placing the map down and the bead on the map. She looks at Aileen, waiting.

  “Well, any suggestions?”

  Aileen laughs.

  “I just tried it myself Azalea, I’m sorry but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you. I didn’t say anything; I just saw where the person was.” She kneels down next to Azalea feeling guilty; she promised she’d help. Seeing as she can’t do that, she can at least sit with her. Her eyes flutter closed briefly as she sees a small vision of her and Azalea holding their hands around the map, and when she opens her eyes she holds out her hands, prompting Azalea to take them.

  “Okay, so you need to clear your mind of everything except the teddy. All you want to see and feel is the teddy and nothing else, okay?”

  Azalea nods, Aileen shaking her head unsure of how she knew that. She watches as Azalea starts speaking, her voice low as she keeps her eyes closed. Aileen closes her eyes too and a few minutes pass by before the bead begins to move across the table, stopping suddenly. Azalea opens her eyes shocked, had she really done it?

  “How did it work the first time with you? I have tried every day over and over for a month with Camille and never managed to do it before!” Azalea looks at the bead’s new location; she knows where the teddy is now.

  “I think that maybe Camille is slightly negative, and it clouds your mind. So, in moments like that just walk away, go and clear your mind of everything just like you did then.” Aileen smiles at her, stress won’t help. Her head shakes again, how on earth does she know all this? Where is it coming from?

  “I best go and tell her I know where it is. Thank you,” Azalea says gratefully and gathers her things, skipping quickly out of the room. It seems so much emptier without her in it. Aileen glances around the room, her mind going straight to Cayson. Why does she feel pulled back to him, and like coming here was a mistake? She finds herself drifting to sleep, her dreams plaguing her with more memories that were locked away.

  The warm glow from the morning sun on her face wakes her, and she feels almost like she hasn’t slept at all. The dreams had been relentless, constantly throwing new information at her, and it’s so much for her to process.

  It feels wrong being here, like she doesn’t belong here. She gets dressed and walks downstairs, Camille smiling at her briefly.

  “Have I done something wrong? I sense hate from you every time you look at me, Camille.” She has to ask; she can’t keep ignoring this and hoping that it is nothing.

  “I don’t hate you, Aileen. Your mind is a mess; it needs time to calm down after everything for you to be able to make sense of all of this. Breakfast is ready, anyway. Everyone else is already eating.” Aileen follows Camille slowly to the dining room, once again taking her seat next to Azalea.

  “Morning Azalea, how did it go after you left the room?”

  Azalea nods slightly. “Good, thanks.” She doesn’t say anything else; just sits quietly and eats. Aileen glances to her. She hasn’t known her long but in that short time, she’s learned that Azalea loves to talk. Something feels wrong.

  “Was Camille happy that you found the teddy?”

  Azalea simply nods and smiles. Her eyes flit between Aileen and Camille; she senses the young girl had been warned not to speak to her, which is crazy.

  Aileen smiles back Azalea, she won’t talk to her if it means she’ll be in trouble, but she will find out why Camille seems to hate her so much now.

  The next few weeks pass by quickly, Aileen finding herself learning far more about her family and her heritage. She gradually learns more and more magic, too. Camille had said she married into the Darkmore bloodline; however Aileen senses she was born a Darkmore which makes no sense to her. Her mind continually plagues her with thoughts of Cayson.

  When Mel messages, she tells her she’s gone on holiday for a few weeks. If nothing else it’s a way to stop her continually asking if she’s okay, and why she hasn’t been going to work.

  Tonight she’ll go out and see Mel. She’s got the story all sorted: Camille is a friend she met while abroad, but she coincidentally lives locally. Camille has kept her distance, but tonight she has to face her family- or Mel at least. The witches don’t want her going alone either, so Camille and others will go with her. Things have changed, she can sense it. She doesn’t feel safe and hasn’t since she walked away from Cayson: for some reason, she feels like she still loves him, despite her efforts not to.

  4 TAINTED WITCH

  Aileen looks down at herself. She has to admit, the dress is impressive. It clings to her body like it was made for her, a deep blue fabric that reminds her of the ocean. The hem stops halfway down her thighs: not so high that it’s revealing, but high enough to tease. She has no doubts that she’ll enjoy tonight. It is the first night since she arrived here that she’s free from everyone watching her, asking her what she learnt today, or whether she can do this or that.

  Walking down the old, grand stairs she smiles, seeing Camil
le hurriedly putting something away in a drawer before leaning down to lock it with a sturdy key that hangs around her neck. Aileen shoots her a curious look and the older woman shrugs.

  “It’s my personal stuff. I just don’t want anyone reading it, that’s all.”

  Aileen nods wordlessly; she doesn’t feel comfortable enough to grab a glass of water here, let alone go snooping in drawers. Aileen watches as Zander and a few other witches stroll down the stairs behind her, all ready to join her on her night out.

  “Right, let’s go have some fun, okay? I miss these nights out; we don’t do it enough, Camille.” Zander grins at her.

  “For good reason, Zander,” she replies curtly, and leaves the room without so much as a ‘hello’ to the others.

  “I don’t know what’s up with her lately, she's just constantly in a damn mood.” Zander rolls his eyes, grinning as they walk out. Twenty minutes later they reach the club and Mel spots them as soon as they enter, running straight over to hug Aileen.

  “Olivia! If you were abroad, where the hell is your tan?” Mel giggles loudly over the thumping bass of the music permeating the walls and Aileen laughs, rolling her eyes.

  “I don’t like the sun, remember?”

  Mel nods, glancing behind her and raising an eyebrow in question when she sees Aileen’s friends. Aileen readily answers the unspoken question, almost eager to prove to Mel that she does actually have a social life, even if it is a bit pretend at the moment.

  “These are my friends: Camille, Zander and a few others. There’s no point telling you all their names, you’ll just forget!”

  Mel nods, smiling. “Let’s get a drink, yeah? Oh and by the way, that hunk Cayson is over there,” she winks, and Aileen can do nothing but stare at her openly, her heart fighting to look at him as her head forces her to look towards the bar.

  “I might say hi later,” she shrugs, hoping she sounded casual enough despite her thumping heart. She smiles at Mel and follows her to the bar, both of them ordering drinks and her and Mel talking while what seems to be hours passes them by. Aileen can’t help but keep glancing towards where Cayson is, her head slightly lowered.