Coven Deception

by D. H. Davis

  “Now let’s not be hasty, little witch. I only showed myself because I heard what was going on and thought you were about to get yourself killed. Sure as hell shocked me that you froze them just as I got in between you. Trust me, witchy, I wouldn’t have got involved if I knew what you were. I thought you were as helpless as the old lady. Now, I’ll let you go if you promise not to burn my ass, can you do that?”

  I nod confusedly and he releases his grip and starts removing his hand from my mouth. For a moment, I am speechless. Not only am I seeing a real life vampire but he isn’t trying to kill me. Well, not yet at least.

  “Look, I say we clean this up and go our separate ways, I won’t tell anyone what you are, if you extend me the same curtsey,” he suggests.

  “What do you mean clean this up? You can’t kill them!” I shout, finally finding my voice.

  “You are such a witch. Of course, I don’t mean kill them. I mean you unfreeze them, I’ll erase their memories, then we can all go about our little lives as if we don’t have a care in the world,” he replies, raising his hands out to his sides as if he’s shrugging.

  I’m not sure I understand what I’m hearing. Vampires kill by nature, it’s the very core of their being; something every witch learns from a young age. I mean, my parents used to use the threat of vampires to make us behave, that’s how scary they are. Why was this one suggesting something so … reasonable? Did he really get involved because he thought I was in danger? It just doesn’t make any sense.

  “Are you serious? You’ll actually let these people go?” I enquire, intrigued to know if his words are true.

  “No, I was joking. I’m actually gonna have knife guy now then stash the other guy in my basement for dinner later,” he sarcastically replies, making fun of my query. “Of course, I meant it, witchy.” He glances at his phone, “We haven’t got long, History’s starting in fifteen, so let’s get cracking. Oh, and one at a time if you could, just makes life easier.” He turns away from me and back to the man with the knife and waits for me to do my bit.

  Can I really do this? I mean, how do I know he’s telling the truth, how do I know he’s not just playing some sick little game and getting me to unfreeze them so he can play chase? It goes against everything I know about his kind, yet, there’s something in my gut telling me to help him. I can’t put my finger on why, but for some reason, I believe him.

  I look at him stood there waiting for me to help and think back to my dad telling me that vampires instincts are to kill first and think later. If he really was going to hurt these people, surely he would have done it by now? I make my decision.

  “Regelo,” I command whilst pointing at the man with the knife. Immediately he unfreezes, a look of shock appearing on his face. I think he was about to ask how Jessie had got here but no sooner than he opens his mouth, Jessie grabs him by the shoulders and stares him straight in the eye and says, “You will forget everything that’s happened here, you came for some chips then changed your mind and decided to go home. You will never try to mug someone again and this…” Jessie took the knife from his hand and waved it in front of his eye line, “…Well this is mine now.”

  Jessie releases the man from his grip, puts the knife in his pocket and the attacker simply turns and walks silently past me and out of the alley, presumably heading home, just like Jessie told him to.

  I let out a sigh of relief in knowing I had made the right call and I think Jessie notices because I could swear I see a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth as he heads over to the other would-be mugger.

  We carry out the routine exactly the same for that man before getting to the old woman. Her bag has fallen to the floor in the struggle and some of her tins of shopping have scattered across the floor. I figure I’ll collect them up before unfreezing her, but before I’ve even bent halfway down, the things are gone. I glance up to see Jessie putting the last item in her bag, he’d literally been so fast I hadn’t seen it.

  “Right then, witchy. Last one.” He grins while placing the bag straps carefully back on the old lady’s arm.

  “Regelo,” I command once more with a flick of my wrist and the old lady comes back to the here and now.

  “You will forget everything that’s happened here, you came out to do your shopping then you started heading home. Don’t ever walk down this alley alone again.” Jessie’s tone is different, this time he speaks gently with a kindness to his voice, whereas his commands had been sharp and almost scary with the attackers. The elderly lady smiles at us then turns and goes on her way, oblivious to what had just happened to her.

  Jessie swings back around to face me and rubs his hands together.

  “All in a day’s work hey,” he smiles walking past me and back towards the chip shop. “You still hungry?”

  “What?” His question stuns me even though it is such a simple one.

  “I’m presuming you walked all this way to grab some lunch so are you still getting some because we haven’t got long?” He states glancing at his watch.

  I’m still just as confused as before. What is this use of ‘we’? Is he asking me to have lunch with him? Is he assuming we are walking back to school together? Does he somehow think we are friends now?

  “Um yeah, I still need food, I’m gonna go get some now,” and with that I walk towards the chip shop too, not meaning to walk with him but I guess that’s how it ends up looking because when I get to the shop and go in to buy my usual chip roll, he is outside, leaning against the shop window, waiting for me when I come out.

  I can’t help but admire the biceps that are bulking out from underneath his tight fitting T-shirt. It’s not until I notice the jagged, thick tribal tattoo escaping the sleeve of his right arm that I snap myself out of it and remember he’s my enemy. It must be his daylight tattoo, dad told me that’s how they can walk in the sun.

  I abruptly look away, annoyed at my momentary lapse in judgement. I was almost finding a vampire attractive.

  Jessie, however, seems unaware of my staring and says, “We’re not going to make it back in time for fourth period and I for one don’t wanna be on the wrong side of Mr Peters so I suggest we speed this up.”

  Not entirely sure what he’s proposing and still trying to work out this ‘we’ thing, Jessie grabs my arm and swings me around onto his back. It happens so quickly I lose a few chips from my roll (and the wind from my chest) as I smack against his steel skin. Before I can even get the words out to demand an explanation, Jessie begins running. He’s carrying me with such ease yet without realising I’ve wrapped my legs round his waist and tightened my grip around his neck.

  We are moving a lot faster than I could run but still not as fast as I’m guessing he can run; probably because it’s broad daylight. To an on looker he must just appear incredibly athletic.

  Before long, we are back at the school gates and he abruptly swings me from his back, still managing to land me softly on the pavement. He just halved the time it would have taken me to walk back but I still don’t understand why.

  “Laters, witchy, I gotta go grab stuff from my locker before my class. Remember, I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winks and heads off through the school gates before I can even reply. I stand watching him walk away with my wind swept hair and my battered chip roll in hand. What the hell just happened?!

  Chapter Three

  After receiving long, overly apologetic texts from Eve all afternoon and the change in events during lunchtime, I decide to forgive her. Getting any kind of remorse from Eve is incredibly out of character; usually she could have a neon sign above her head saying ‘I’m wrong’ and still not say sorry, so she must be feeling pretty damn guilty. Being honest, even at the time I knew deep down that she must have been really worried to break our pact, so I can’t hold it against her. Besides, I’ve never been able to go more than a day without talking to her, so after a car journey home filled with Eve moaning that we haven’t stayed behind to watch the football try-outs, I rush to the church
for my meeting with the Elders. Peter, one of our Elders is the local Vicar and he hosts all Coven meetings in the church. It’s only a few streets away from my house but that doesn’t usually stop me from reluctantly dawdling there. Today, however, I’m practically sprinting. I’ve got so many questions.

  The first thing you see as you approach the church is the nineteen-foot statue of Christ stood at the entrance with its arms outstretched over the two doors below. Whether you believe or not, it really is quite spectacular. While many Churches in small towns are cold, dark, little buildings with narrow interiors, Arcane Grove’s Church is grand and inviting. Its two enormous front doors are solid oak with hand carved symmetrical designs and its stained glass windows provide a blend of bright colours to fill the building when the sun shines. The inside illuminated with the warm glow of candlelight, immediately creates a cosy and safe environment. Right now, however, the church appears deserted. I cautiously approach the lectern, ensuring I haven’t overlooked someone that could see me.

  “Patentibus,” I whisper, activating the trap door at the foot of the lectern to open. Eagerly, I descend the grey, stone steps to the coven’s sanctum.

  Awaiting my arrival is Peter, Albert and Lucile, the oldest witches in our coven that possess the most knowledge and wisdom. It is their job to protect the coven’s history and guide its leader. In my case, their job is to educate me so I am prepared to take my place as the head of the coven. Elders are well-respected members of the community too, each holding jobs of high esteem and public service.

  Peter is the oldest of the three elders, a wise and open-minded preacher who provides moral and spiritual guidance to the whole community in his role as vicar, not simply the coven. For seventy-three years of age, he looks incredible. I’m pretty sure he has more hair than my dad does and he has maintained a trim and fit physique with all his charity marathons.

  Albert, however, has definitely let himself go since he reached his seventies. With a receding grey hairline and tangled beard, he has the face of a tried man and a very overweight body. Albert is a Chief Inspector within the police force and is renowned for excelling at his job. He’s solved a record number of cases which is why he’s reluctant to retire; he’s very good at catching bad guys but you can tell it’s taking its toll. I guess there’s only so many bad things one person can see before it physically and emotionally changes you.

  Finally, Lucile. She’s Arcane Grove’s longest standing GP. Just by looking at her, you can guess she’s a healer. She possesses kind features just like my mother: a friendly smile, empathetic eyes and welcoming body language that lets you know she’s there to listen. Lucile is known amongst the witch community for her skills with herbal remedies to the extent where witches from covens outside our own will travel to see her. She was never satisfied by simply helping witches though, she wanted to help as many people as she could both supernatural and ordinary so she studied medicine and has never looked back; she now owns and runs the doctors surgery in town.

  “Do our eyes deceive us?” Lucile asks with a small friendly smile across her lips, “or is Miss Lesley actually on time?”

  “Why yes she is,” replies Peter.

  “Well now, I really have seen everything,” Albert jokes.

  “Yes, yes we all know I’m not one for punctuality but let’s not dwell on it. I’m here and eager to learn,” I reply whilst chucking my bag on the floor and kicking it under my chair. All three of them glare at me suspiciously, clearly ruffled by my sudden work ethic.

  “Well, okay then,” Peter says. “You heard the lady, let’s crack on.”

  We all take our seats around the circular, solid, oak table. On the surface is an indented circle that runs around the edge of the table with a continuous line heading towards the centre from where each of us is sat. These lines all meet at the middle forming their own smaller circle. In front of each of us is a small knife with a wooden handle bearing the coven’s crest –an outer circle surrounding a triangle with a smaller circle inside, symbolising the sun, sky and earth, the places that all magic come from.

  “So where did we leave off last week?” asks Albert.

  “I believe it was the emancipation of the covens,” Lucille replies, smiling in my direction as if to say I had done well on that topic.

  “Actually, I was wondering if we could cover vampire history today?” I sheepishly enquire, hoping no one will make too much of a big deal out of my question.

  “What on earth has made you want to look at that?” asks a startled Peter, the others equally as shocked judging by their puzzled facial expressions.

  “I know it sounds random but I really do think it’s important. There was this huge war that I know next to nothing about,” I try to justify my question. “I just think a leader should really know their enemies and right now all I know are rumours.”

  I watch as each of the Elders digests my response, eager to win them around, but trying hard not to show my true desperation. After what feels like an eternity, Albert replies with the answer I was longing for.

  “Very well.”

  With those words, we each pick up the knives in our right hands and simultaneously make a fine shallow cut on our left palm. We hold our left hands out over the indents in the table and make a fist so several drops of blood drip down into the carvings. As soon as we have each provided five drops of blood, it begins to flow around the circle and down the lines to mix together in the middle. Once mixed, our blood turns a deep shade of purple and we place our palms down flat on the table’s surface ready for the ritual to commence.

  “To the origin of the great war.” I hear Peter’s voice command and within an instant, the vision begins.

  A handsome young man in a tailed black suit and top hat is approaching the front door of a large country looking house. He lifts the big, brass knocker against the door, which produces a loud bang symbolising his arrival. He appears eager to see whoever lives in the house as behind his back he is hiding a fresh bouquet of daisies. When the door finally opens, a beautiful, young, pale-skinned woman with tight black ringlets poking out of her bonnet is revealed.

  “Good day to you, Miss Ripley,” the gentleman smiles, the woman, however, does not look pleased to see him.

  “Mr Bessler, I’ve told you it isn’t appropriate that you keep coming here,” she speaks in a hushed voice, as if trying to hide his arrival from someone inside the house.

  “I know but I saw these and I thought of you.” With this, he reveals the flowers from behind his back. “A woman as beautiful as you should be surrounded by pretty things.” The woman’s face softens as though she appreciates the gesture.

  “They are delightful, Theodore, but you know I cannot accept them. You must stop putting yourself in this predicament.” She looks upon him now with pity in her eyes. “Go now before he realises you are here and I won’t speak of this.”

  “They are just flowers, Frances. Please accept them!” he pleads in desperation, thrusting the bouquet towards her hands.

  “It never is just flowers, Theodore. Please, for your sake, just go,” she pleads with him again, but as she does so a tall, well-groomed, handsome man emerges behind her.

  “Leave this house before I make you!” The man’s fierce tone was a clear threat, he points at the road back into town as he speaks.

  Theodore, however, does not heed this warning and instead he inches even closer, staring longingly at Frances as he says, “See how he talks to people, Frances, I would never! Please don’t marry him, I could make you so much happier.”

  Worried for Theodore, Frances begins to shed some silent tears while her fiancé loses his patience; he raises his right arm and bellows, “Caulis!”

  Theodore lets out a blood-curling scream and drops to the floor in agony, clutching his forehead while Frances’ fiancé simply watches and smiles.

  Frances rushes to his side in an attempt to help him but it’s too late. The damage is done. As Theodore raises his head to look at Frances, bur
nt into the flesh on his forehead is the word, ‘stalker’. Frances looks at him in horror and raises her arm towards his head but before she can touch him, her fiancé pushes his right arm towards Theodore.

  In that instant, Theodore flies backwards down the drive as if being pushed by some mighty, unseen force and lands in a heap on the pavement. He had been magically banished from the premises and scarred for life.

  I lift my hands from the table and attempt to process what I’ve just seen. I’m aware the Elders are all watching me, studying my face, trying to gauge my reaction.

  “That poor man,” I mutter, still trying to comprehend what I had been shown. “What do those people have to do with the Great War?”

  “Those people are where it all began,” replies Lucile. “They are the cause of the feud.”

  “But how, I don’t understand?” I ask, confused.

  “What if we told you Theodore was a vampire?” Peter challenges me.

  “Even if he was, I still don’t understand why that caused a war. They were vile to him but I doubt all vampires would get on board with hating all witches because of it. Would they?” I suddenly doubt my own line of thinking, realising I clearly know nothing.

  “Because, Brooke, instead of moving on like any sane person would do, the twisted fool turned up at their wedding and massacred their entire coven.” Albert solemnly informs me. “He drained them all, men, women, even children.” I gasp, astounded.

  “That was not something the witch community could accept. The wiping out of a whole coven of witches was a crime that had to be paid for,” Peter continues. “So the neighbouring covens sought out Theodore and his clan and returned the favour. They waited until the sun was its highest in the sky, surrounded them and used a removal incantation to corrupt their daylight tattoos. Then their entire clan burnt before the sun.”

  I cling onto every word. This is unbelievable.

  “It didn’t stop there, though. Once news spread amongst the vampire community, they put in place a plan to wipe out as many covens as they could. They had discovered that biting a witch and turning them into a vampire would remove all the witch’s magical abilities, essentially rendering them no longer a witch.” Albert added, “They were solely a vampire. This continued for centuries until the losses on both sides were monstrous and both communities could take it no more. A truce was made stating that the killing would stop and that our two species would co-exist by no longer having any affiliation with one another.”