Blood Ties

by Gina Whitney

“You will come to understand that sometimes being there means not being there.”

  What the fuck with the damn riddles?

  Mother finally stepped off her gazebo, but she didn’t look like she was coming over to give me a hug.

  “There’s something else. You have done a grave wrong that has endangered the mission. You fed on an innocent.”

  “You mean the shape-shifter girl?”

  “We only eat in ritual, and we only eat those who deserve punishment. You fed like Catherine feeds. Now there is an imbalance that has caused the future to favor Catherine. You’ve weakened not only your chances of success but the energy of those sent to help you. The scales are heavy on the side of evil.”

  “I was dying,” I said, totally exasperated.

  “I am telling you the consequences. Catherine now has the knife, and on top of that, you ate like an animal. There is only one way to combat this.”

  “What? Feed more?”

  “You can’t just go feeding on people. Feeding is only to be used on rare occasions and always during ritual. In fact too much feeding will cause your demise. You will have to become ingenious enough to find other ways to solve your problems.”

  “Okay, is there some book with all this information?”

  “What I’ve discovered since I’ve been in this place is that witches never learn it all. Everything is on a need-to-know basis.”

  I couldn’t be a bitch anymore. I had to get over myself and get on with the task. “How do I fix it? I’ll do anything.”

  “You have to go see the Three Sisters. They have something you need and I can’t give you. That’s the only thing left to help you defeat Catherine.”

  Shit… More fucking riddles.

  The Three Sisters? No one had mentioned them to me before. “Who are they? What do they need to give me?”

  Mother didn’t answer my questions, but said, “And you must go alone. No Evelyn. No Addison. And especially no James.”

  Before I could ask—or rather demand—any more information, I felt a pull from my navel to my spine and was yanked backward through the dimensional warp. I reached out toward Mother, but she just waved goodbye.

  “Wait! I need you. I can’t do this alone. Not now. Please!” I pleaded.

  I was thrown through the mirror like I was surfacing in a silver pool. I landed hard on my belly. “Next time tell me to buckle up.”

  The pendant was right under my face. It was still glowing lightly, and then it extinguished. Once again Mother had flashed in and out of my life.

  When I opened the attic door, I could see the faint glimmer of dawn. I must have been up there for a few hours. As I stepped out into the hall, I heard something bumping around. The sound came from a bedroom. I figured Addison must have decided to forego sleeping on Adrian’s bed and get in her own. I opened the door and was met by Julie’s glowering eyes.

  My body went forward and back as I tried to decide whether to enter or retreat. “Uh… I didn’t know you were here.”

  Julie looked away and continued going through her dresser drawers. I noticed she was still wearing what she’d had on at the bonfire. I didn’t wait for her to welcome me in. If I had, the invitation never would have come.

  “I’m sorry about Hari,” I said.

  Julie huffed. “Are you also sorry about eating my tribe?”

  Aw, shit. Julie just had to start something. “I was dying. The girl was going to die anyway. I took a life that was already in the process of expiring.”

  “Another excuse,” she said, holding up two shirts in comparison.

  “Julie, why are you here? I mean, if you’ve only come to rag on me—”

  She dropped her arms. “I’m forced to be here, not only because of Ilan’s magic but also by request of the chief. He made me come back and help save your ass.”

  I tried to move closer to her, but she gave me a back-it-up look. I said, “I am trying to make it right, and I do understand what you’re going through.”

  “Understand? Really? How?”

  “I lost someone too.”

  Julie sucked in her cheeks and then said, “Who? Your mother? I already know that. Remember, I was there risking my life for you. Just like now. But see, that happened when you were a baby, so her death didn’t exactly rock your world.” Downy fur started to pop out all over her body. “You still have your dad and your aunt…and your stupid fuck buddy too. You came out aces on this one. You get to eat my family, fuck around, and shit all over your friends. All in the name of a mission.”

  I didn’t get mad. Julie had just lost her brother and was venting. I would be an asshole to try to argue her down.

  “I have lost everything because of you. When this is over, however it ends, I’m through with you.” Julie said something under her breath. I couldn’t exactly hear it, but it sounded a lot like “better hope I don’t try to kill you myself.”

  “What can I do to make it right with you?” I asked, and I meant it. I not only wanted to get rid of my guilt, which I admit was selfish, but I wanted us to be right again. I was craving her. Not in some lustful, sexual way. I just needed her so badly. James was wonderful, but I missed what Julie and I had shared.

  She smirked. “What can you do to make it right? Well, to start you can get the hell out.”

  I held up my hands to let her know I had no fight left in me. I wasn’t going to resist her resentment or try to change it. “Bye, Julie.” I went back into the hall, and she slammed the door behind my back. As I walked away, a shift in my outlook occurred.

  No that bitch didn’t.

  Fuck being nice. Fuck being sensitive to Julie’s feelings. I already said I was sorry, and now I was mighty damn tired of her melodramatics. There was a mission to accomplish, and I needed all the help I could get.

  Yeah, I ate the shape-shifter girl. And yes, Hari was dead, but it was time to move forward.

  I wondered for a moment if I was just throwing my own little temper tantrum. Maybe it was James’s blood in me. Maybe it was my Ancient spirit growing stronger. Whatever it was, I felt my guilt fading fast. I was no longer going to tolerate Julie’s pouty crap. Damn that.

  That decision was alarming and freeing at the same time.

  Later on that morning, I relayed what my mother had told me to the rest. Aunt Evelyn squeezed her fists like she was holding a stress ball. “The Three Sisters? Are you sure Ilan said the Three Sisters?”

  Addison, James, and even Julie looked alarmed too. With the exception of Julie, everyone seemed to be coming out of the doldrums.

  “The sisters? There is no way Ilan would send you to them. You must have heard her wrong,” Addison said.

  “I heard her just fine. Wow, these chicks have got you guys in a tizzy. Who are they?” I asked.

  Aunt Evelyn looked at me through eyes that were bloodshot and swollen from crying all night. “We’re not really sure who or what they are. They always were and always will be.”

  “Well, that cleared it up,” I said.

  “They’re a tricky sort. Definitely beings you have to handle with care. All their assistance comes with a price or a trick attached to it,” Addison said like she was describing a horrible accident.

  “Well, if Ilan said we should contact them, we must do it, and do it now,” Aunt Evelyn said. She went to a closet and dug around. She pulled out an old, dusty phone book that came straight from the ’70s. She dropped the tome on the table. It was a directory for the greater Los Angeles area.

  “What? A phone book? No magic ceremony to summon the Three Sisters?,” I said, making spooky hands.

  Aunt Evelyn flipped through the pages. “Their number never changes. So there’s no need to expend the energy.”

  I waited a moment before I told them the rest. “Mother also told me I have to go alone.”

  James’s reaction was swift. “There is no way! The sisters are much too dangerous. We all know Grace’s powers aren’t strong enough. They fade in and out—and more out than in. Besides,
all witches are aware of her presence, and you know they pretty much all want to do harm to her, both the good ones and the bad ones. It’s like we’re sending her to slaughter.”

  “We are at our wits’ end. We’ve run out of options. If Ilan says she goes alone, there is nothing else we can do about it,”

  Aunt Evelyn said.

  “Fuck that. I’m going,” James said, and was about to head to the basement to pack.

  Aunt Evelyn took his arm. “No, you’re not. You can’t jeopardize this. We have to trust. Ilan must see some sort of trap waiting for us if we all go. Or something even worse.”

  “I think we should have faith in Ilan’s judgment,” Addison said. She looked at James and could tell he wasn’t having it. “Please follow directions on this. I’ve already lost one brother. I don’t aim to lose another.”

  He deferred to Aunt Evelyn. “I can’t let her go. Grace is too important to risk. Too important to the world. Too important to me.”

  I stepped in. “Let me go. I have to. There is no other way. If I need help, I can always telephone or summon you guys. Okay?”

  James rested his chin on top of my head. I waited for some long speech or plea not to go. Reluctantly, he said, “Okay.”

  As much as it was mourning time over at Aunt Evelyn’s house, it was a time of celebration at Catherine’s hideout.

  She sat on a castaway sectional left behind by the previous tenants. She savored a bit of Grace’s blood acquired from when the girl’s abdomen was sliced open. The tip of Catherine’s mucky tongue probed the blood. With every taste she gained the tiniest bit of Grace’s magic. She discovered that her own profound powers grew threefold from what may have added up to less than a drop of blood.

  Meanwhile, Tamara and Nick reveled in their own increases in power due to the ingestion of the shape-shifter’s blood.

  “Mistress Catherine, watch,” Tamara said. She swooped behind Nick and picked him up. She twirled him over her head like a ballerina, purposely trying to punk him out to impress Catherine. Nick jumped out of her hands and growled at her.

  “Nick, behave,” said Catherine. She so loved playing puppet master.

  Nick wiped down the front of his clothes to regain his composure. He gave Tamara the side-eye as he rolled up his sleeves. He bent down and pressed his pinky finger into the concrete floor. The surface indented under the tremendous concentrated force, and cracks spread out a few feet. He then pounded his fist down and caused the house to shake. A deep hole was left, as if a small meteor had crashed into it.

  Catherine clapped. “Oh, my little pets! You are stupendous. That dog blood has made you unstoppable. You are the best protégés by far.” Catherine waved Tamara and Nick over. “Come, come closer now.” Her hands lowered as if instructing an audience to quiet down.

  Tamara and Nick honored the request by sitting obediently on the floor. Both looked at their maker with adoring reverence. Catherine took center court. “Children, we are now in the final stages of our endeavor. This is an extremely tenuous time. Though they are weakened, the witches are anticipating an attack and are preparing for it. They know they are at a disadvantage if they come after me now, but engage me they must. I, on the other hand, want a confrontation now because I will most assuredly win. So we will force their hand. Make them come to our turf.”

  “How?” Tamara asked.

  Catherine rubbed Tamara’s head. “Throw a twist at them.

  I will send my two remarkable babies out, but I will not go.”

  “You won’t go? Don’t you have to get Grace?” Nick asked, cocking his head to the side.

  Excited, Catherine threw her hands in the air. “Oh, you are an inquisitive fellow. Alright, here is the plan!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It’s always darkest before it turns absolutely pitch black.

  —Paul Newman

  Typically, at any airport, Arrivals is a happy place. Having been freed from the stale confines of the airplane’s cabin, flight-weary passengers have achieved the goal of reaching their final destinations. Most likely, loving friends or family members will be there to greet them with open arms and smiling faces.

  But I wasn’t at Arrivals; I was at Departures.

  Departures at JFK International Airport was where bustling hoards of maniacs swarmed in a competitive, agitated state of desperation. Being the end of the school year, harried parents were forced to spend quality time with their miserable children, ranging in ages from wailing infants to smart-assed teens. Haughty business travelers acted as though they owned the airport as they callously plowed through the crowds to bum-rush the airport lounge and guzzle down their frequent flyer miles. Tourists and foreigners were lost puppies with mouths agape, wondering which way was up. The rest were thousands and thousands of solipsists who bumped and pushed, apparently not having the ability to perceive anyone else.

  And I thought Catherine was hard to deal with.

  The line for the first TSA checkpoint was long. James and I stood on the outside of the stanchion, allowing others to skip ahead. I stroked the retractable belt of the post in a futile attempt to stall getting on the plane.

  James was trying to get more time in too, but he played it off by giving me directions about the trip. “Remember; be careful with the Three Sisters. They always give you what you came looking for, but always at some dangerous price.”

  “James, I don’t even know what the hell I’m supposed to be getting.”

  “Yes, I know. All the more reason to use extreme caution.” He paused. “I can’t understand why Ilan is sending you there, and without help. It doesn’t make any sense. She knows your magic is not up to par.”

  I couldn’t sleep the previous night thinking the exact same thing. Why was Mother sending me to three women who were supposedly as bad as Catherine? Especially with my spastic powers and no backup?

  “Have you ever met anyone who had contact with the Three Sisters?” I asked James, all the while trying to ignore the airport clock.

  He looked up as he went through his extensive memory bank. “Well, no, I reckon. But I’ve heard enough about them to know to watch out.”

  That made me wonder. Maybe the witches had the Three Sisters pegged wrong. I mean, that had to be why Mother was sending me. And James just said he’d never met anyone who had been hurt by them.

  “You said there’s always a trick with their gifts. What exactly did you hear happened to the others?” I asked.

  “Well, I guess what I know is hearsay. Urban legends. Rumors. Those who went to the Sisters got what they came for, but they returned in a terrible state—like they had a pseudostroke with total amnesia. Others didn’t come back at all.”

  “Then why the fuck go to these crazy bitches?” I said loudly. People looked at me, and I spoke more softly. “Why even risk it?”

  “If you and yours are in trouble, the Three Sisters are the last resort. They always seem to have the very thing you need. And whatever you need is so valuable, it’s worth the risk. Plus everyone thinks they’ll be the one that won’t get got.”

  “So Mother decides to send me.”

  “Because you’re not like the others. Maybe Ilan believes you can come back with the prize unscathed.”

  “Or maybe the Three Sisters are just an urban legend like you said.”

  “I don’t know about all that. If enough witches say there’s trouble, something’s got to be wrong.”

  James and I had taken too much time, and a kindly security office in a blue sweater and a badge came over. “Excuse me. Who is flying today?” she asked with a sunny grin.

  The uniform looked so official, I raised my hand like I was swearing in at court. “I am.”

  “Miss, you need to move it along then,” the officer said. She directed me to get in line.

  My stomach tightened into a knot as I held back tears. No way was I going to let a bunch of strangers see me bawl. “Guess it’s time.”

  James looked at me, thinking of ways to pr
event me from getting on that plane. None came to mind. But he did say, “Be on the lookout for other witches who want to do you harm.” He kissed my waiting lips, and kind of sucked them when he pulled away. “I love you, hero.”

  I gave him a wink. “Back at you.”

  Our fingers slid apart, and I walked away before the next wave of flyers converged on the line. I heard James say, “Make sure you come back to me.” I didn’t turn around for fear I’d say “to hell with it” and run straight back into his arms. I could feel him watching me until I was out of sight.

  I was nervous as I moved through the line with multiple S-turns. Not only because of the gravity of meeting the Three Sisters, but because of flying. The last time I’d been on a plane was before 2001, and I didn’t have time now to learn about the new restrictions and guidelines. On top of that, I was known notorious for having motion sickness. In anticipation of that, I kept biting the dry skin off my lip.

  Apparently that made me look suspicious enough to catch the attention of a tense TSA agent. He watched from afar as I mimicked what the other passengers were doing. They took out their licenses; so did I. They had their itineraries at the ready; so did I.

  The airport must have hired psychics, because another worker—a perceptive attendant at a podium—knew something was off with me. She never looked away from my face as I handed her my license and other information. She glared at me some, and looked down at my ID. Something made her hold my license up against the lights, as if that would help anything. And it was embarrassing.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  The podium attendant said, “No.” I could tell she wasn’t convinced my license was legit, but she had no reason to hold me back. “Okay, go on.”

  As I cleared the podium, I looked at all the other people in line and wondered if any of them were witches, and, if so, if they would try to kill me on the spot. I started to perspire with nervous energy as I made my way to the TSA scanner. Again I copied the others and took off my shoes. They were smart or well-traveled enough to wear footwear that easily slipped on and off. I had on high tops, double knotted because the laces were too long. I had to hop on one foot as I tried to unlace each one, and nearly fell on my face more than once.