Training Tia

by Isabella Laase

  I sit alone at a small table with a thick coloring book. I gently touch the fresh sharp tips of the new crayons and stop to smell the wax from the different colors with scientific exploration. The chair is tall for my tiny body, and my legs swing back and forth while I hum an innocent nursery tune.

  My parents are close, and they are fighting. The meaning of the argument is lost to my child’s memory, but their words are loud and frightening. I remain surprisingly calm under the familiar battle.

  When the noises rise to include crashing wood and breaking glass, I cover my ears and close my eyes tightly in a futile attempt to shut out the growing fear. A small tear falls down my face, and I don’t bother to wipe it away.

  When mother screams in pain, my tiny self recognizes the change and I push the toys to the floor in a panic. I stand in hesitation, but her second scream takes me toward her side.

  Zane squeezes my hand, and my perspective returns to his side. The little girl’s brave move makes me proud, but I recognize that we are headed to my parent’s bedroom and neither of them will come out.

  The little girl stands in the corner, and her presence goes unnoticed by the adults who are deep in their conflict. My father has turned his rage on my mother. He doesn’t spank or even whip her, but punches and kicks her with all his force. Her eye is already swollen and her arm rests at a funny angle. She tries to fight back, but he is too strong, too angry.

  Suddenly, I am the little girl again, and my sixth sense ties to their battle without my approval. My subconscious opens through fear, not relaxation, and the feeling exacerbates my terror.

  I feel my mother’s pain and fear just as I feel my father draw even more strength from his dangerous anger. Power radiates from his body in a way I have never seen, and he releases his emotions on my mother’s beaten body. With a huge flash of light, my mother falls to the ground and stops moving. Blood pools around her body before the red trail twists and winds toward tiny me like a spider web.

  With a pull back to Zane’s side, I don’t recognize my voice. “He’s trying to kill her. He’s going to succeed, and I’ll be all alone with him. It’s only a matter of time before he kills me.”

  The tiny girl steps up to the most powerful man in all the coven and orders, “Stop hurting my mother.”

  He shouts at her. I almost smile when she tells him to fuck off, but my memory is already back. I know how it will end, and I can do nothing to stop it.

  My father looks at the bloodied body of his mate, then turns to his little girl. He hasn’t lost his volcanic anger, and my mother’s still body no longer gives him an avenue of release. A whip appears in his hand, and my viewpoint snaps back to the frightened child.

  Panic consumes me as he takes slow methodical steps in my direction. He is going to beat me in a way I have never been beaten, and I will be on the floor. A pool of my blood will mingle with my mother’s, and I will die.

  I feel my mother’s last breaths, but she sends me positive connections that I don’t know how to interpret under the umbrella of so much terror. My anger, confusion, and fear all bubble to a crescendo of power that spills out of my body in a dizzying flash of light. It travels across the room in slow motion to twist into his angry control, and the two visibly combine to explode.

  My father doesn’t see it coming from his tiny child, and he has no defense. He is dead before I can interpret what happened.

  Afraid to breathe, I stare in horror at his prone body for a long minute before I break into gut wrenching sobs to run to my mother’s side. “Please come back to me, Mommy. I need you.”

  She wakes briefly, her gentle kisses full of love and devotion. “You need to know, Tia. Only then will you appreciate what you have. I am grateful you will spend the rest of your life with Zane, but you can never truly submit to him without this memory. It’s time to look for it.”

  A last touch to my head and she hides the memory of their death.

  There was nothing more, but I knew the rest. I was frightened and hid under the bed with a desperate call to Simon. He came quickly and took me into his arms to offer quiet comfort. My Simon. He really was always there for me.

  Zane and I were back in the castle, and I collapsed into his side. The vision had left me exhausted, and I battled my own demons to lose the terror-stricken reality of what I had done.

  It took me a long time before I could stutter, “I killed him. I killed my father.”

  He let me sob. “I didn’t know. I am not sure I would have let you see that if I had. Your mother had told me you were strong, but she never told me you’d accessed your energy field.”

  “I don’t think she knew. I think that was the first time…it felt…new. I…I don’t even know why they were fighting.

  “I heard enough to understand. Keller was forming an army to put himself on the throne with his bastard son as heir. With war likely, your mother wanted you far away from Keller’s control. She’d made plans to send you and Simon to me for safety, and your father had found out.

  “A father has his own bond to protect his child. We never anticipated that you were in danger from Keller, or I would have taken you long before his father passed.”

  I shuddered openly, and he added, “You saved yourself, Tia. You were too closely tied to me. He wouldn’t have hesitated to get rid of you for the boy. There was no love in his soul.”

  “Do you really think that my brother tried to have me killed in New York? Is he really that evil, too?”

  “He’s not your brother,” he spoke grimly. “You share DNA from Keller, but a brother has a different meaning. To answer your question, I’ve never met him. He’s younger than you by quite a few years.

  “His mother can’t be trusted though. She took the boy into hiding, and he’s probably no more than a teen in the human world. My father would order them both killed if he had the chance.”

  It was too much death and destruction. Under the cloud of a frightening past, I turned to the support of my family and friends and left the last of my childhood behind to enter the adult world of patient reflection.

  The weight of regret, however, made reconciliation difficult.

  “Don’t take this away, Zane. I need to process this memory. I have a responsibility to you and to our children, and that won’t happen without this information.”

  He nodded his understanding. “I’ll let you keep this one, and we’ll get through it together. But I meant what I said about obeying me or you’ll lose your powers for good.”

  His words struck an uncomfortable chord. “You’re not saying that I have to do everything you say? I mean, you wouldn’t take my powers because I won’t eat broccoli or something, would you?”

  “No,” he said with a laugh. “I guess there will be different levels of punishments for you, pet.”

  I gave a sigh of relief. Submission was easy on many levels, but I didn’t think I had it in me to do everything he said.

  ****

  Nestled safely in my old nursery, we hid from the world for weeks while I regained my physical and emotional strength.

  Zane’s support was welcome, but after a few weeks of constant attention, I grumbled, “You really need to think about going back to work. I don’t think I’m ready for you twenty-four/seven.”

  The obvious sarcasm reminded him of his responsibilities. “I still owe you something special for using the energy door and shutting me out.”

  That didn’t sound promising, and I squirmed in spite of myself. “I think we can let this one go. I really have learned my lesson.”

  Zane appeared to give it great consideration, but apparently, I wasn’t going to be sitting for dinner that night. With a quick wave, a nasty looking birch switch appeared in his hand. He flashed it around a few times with a frightening hiss, and I had real tears in my eyes. I’d felt that one before and the thought alone was enough to make my bottom turn pink.

  Speaking more to himself, he said, “No, that won’t work. Can’t have my pet marked when we get
to bed tonight. I like her on her back.”

  Another thought, and he came up with a huge wooden paddle. It could have whacked my whole ass at one shot. My eyes grew big, but before I could object, it was replaced with a small horsewhip.

  Skepticism came easily. “Just how many torture devices do you have stored in there anyway?”

  My mate’s eyes got an evil glint. “You have only started to learn what I have in mind for you, little one.”

  The squirming moved to my pussy, and I held my hands out to him with a smirk. Without reservation, I lowered my eyes and added, “Yes, Master Zane.”

  He reached his hand down the front of my pants to explore my swollen clit with a laugh. “Are you ever not ripe for me, pet?”

  The glint in his eye turned to something else, and he carried me to our bed and stripped me with a wave of his hand. The cool air tickled my skin, and I had no anxiety as his hands warmed me with a gentle exploration of my tingling nerves.

  “Now,” he spoke softly, “why are we spanking you today?”

  Without waiting for an answer, his layered lessons marked my formerly white bottom. Warmth from his body took some of my focus off my swollen clit, but instead of lessening the intensity, it spread the growing edge to a larger plane.

  Alternating between his painful spanking and gentle massage, my brain struggled to follow previously established pathways to my release. But my need to have him inside me dropped any submissive requests. “Just fucking fuck me, already…”

  There was no bother with foreplay. He settled between my legs to enter with a powerful thrust and rode me hard to meet his needs. His cock slid in and out of my core until my spasms and screams surrounded his eruption, and we both collapsed in exhaustion.

  I was rewarded by his unspoken words and gentle touch. His eyes locked with mine in full connection of our souls, and I recognized the future in my other half.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Once I was strong enough, we moved back to California where I was reunited with my staff and made slow progress toward mastering the last stages of my power. Quinn and Zane made plans to take me beyond the strength, agility, massage, and focus techniques of my past and reintroduced me to the scary white lights of my subconscious.

  Having accessed it twice in my life with frightening results, I flatly refused. “You can beat me if you want, but I’m not doing it.”

  Quinn spoke calmly, “Of course, it’s scary. It’s like humans learning to control fire. Can you imagine what that must have been like? But once you’ve mastered this, you will have a whole new life. You’ll be safe and so will your children.” The mention of those future children was a cheap trick, and I offered an easy scowl.

  It took both of them, and Simon, to get me to the door. My guard didn’t have the power to enter, and he grumbled, “I’ll be here when you’re done, stupid. Hurry up. I want to watch the basketball game tonight.”

  I hated basketball, and his words pissed me off. Angry people didn’t panic as easily. There was definitely a method to his insults.

  Standing on my toes to kiss him on the cheek, I muttered, “If I die in here, you can have the candy I hid in my sock drawer.”

  He whispered in my ear, “I already ate that for breakfast. You were getting a little chubby.”

  It took a leap of faith to enter, but Zane and Quinn held tightly to my hands while I continued to mumble, “This room is like hell, guys. I don’t know why you want to even consider this.”

  As promised, they coached me through my fear. “This isn’t actually a room,” Zane said. “It’s your energy source. It surrounds all of us and connects our people at a higher level than humans can experience.”

  I tried to relieve my stress with a death grip on their hands. “It’s like claustrophobia. I can’t breathe in here.”

  Quinn moved his free hand to the top of my head, but my nerves resisted the warmth. He scolded, “Relax, Tia. Tie your subconscious to mine, and I can help you with the necessary peace.” A little magic went a long way, and I managed almost five full minutes before I insisted on a hasty retreat.

  It took many attempts, but over several weeks of forced perseverance, I managed to stay in the white hell long enough to achieve a calm control. I never quite learned to enjoy the time, but the experience eventually became like winter in New York. I’d rather be in Florida, but it wasn’t going to kill me.

  It took even more weeks before I could focus long enough to physically grab energy pieces. They were the same bright fireballs that Simon threw at the demon, but practice was limited to the swimming pool for fear I would burn the house to the ground. The power was thrilling, but still represented the energy that killed my father.

  Zane read my thoughts and offered quiet comfort. “My mother has the most logical theory. Tandy helped you locate your energy source before she died, but your subconscious was also naturally bonded to your father. When you tapped into his anger, you gained his strength and that made him vulnerable.”

  I was confused. “Does that mean I killed him, my mother did, or did he kill himself?”

  Quinn hesitated but spoke honestly, “It was your energy source that did the work. She could direct you, but she didn’t give you the power and neither did your father. That was all you.

  “Your ability isn’t surprising,” he added quietly. “Your genealogy is very impressive from both sides of your family. You have a stronger lineage than I do.”

  I couldn’t visualize a world where I was more powerful than Quinn, but the confirmation that I was guilty of my father’s death was tough to hear.

  Zane gave me a stern tap under my chin. “You were a little girl. Your mother knew what you had to do, and you simply obeyed. You have to see yourself as a survivor, not a villain.”

  “Remorse isn’t the same as guilt, Zane,” I added quietly.

  Ultimately, I did find peace with my past. Even as a little girl, I knew my father would have killed me that night. The death of a living being, the evil in my father’s heart, and the sacrifice my mother made to protect me, all represented a troubling weight.

  But the past wouldn’t change with time nor would I allow it to define my future. All beings are programmed to survive as a species. It was time to move forward, and embrace the life that was so clearly waiting for me.

  ****

  I loved the independence that accompanied my growing power, but the biggest adjustment was Simon’s new role. Between Zane and Quinn’s powerful presence, I only saw him once or twice a day. Talking to my guard was more like talking to myself, and I missed his annoying shadow.

  Zane dismissed my complaints. “He’s having fun right now, pet. You’ve been a lot of work for a long time, and he’s catching up with his own family and friends. You’ll never break that bond, but give him some space. He’ll be back to you full time before you know it.”

  A few weeks later, I met new family when Simon’s mother visited. She was adorable, entertaining, and most importantly, she had the best Simon stories in the world. He sat on the couch with clenched teeth while I heard about his bed-wetting, thumb-sucking childhood all the way up to his pimply teenage heartbreaks.

  Simon the Obnoxious became Simon the Respectful with his mother, and he couldn’t figure out how to shut her up. He even claimed to be feeling a little ill after his last meal to move her along.

  “Do you have pictures?” I asked innocently. Simon’s glare could have cut ice, but his mother readily complied. They were plain embarrassing, and I loved seeing my Simon as a chubby, awkward little boy. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

  His mother filled me in with a lot of conspiratorial giggling. “We sent him to the Castle School when he was an adolescent. His father was human, and we didn’t feel Simon understood his birthright. The school provided an amazing experience. That’s where he met Zane and your mother, too, Tia. I remember all seven of them together.”

  With a blush, Simon’s mother looked embarrassed at the slipped mention of my turbulent past.
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  “It’s okay,” I said. “I understand.”

  Looking at another photo of Simon’s smiling face, I tried to be serious. “I have to thank you for raising such a great guy. Simon’s my rock. He’s been with me as long as I can remember, and…and I wouldn’t be here without him.”

  Simon stared at me like I had two heads before he broke the awkward silence with a growl. “You’re still a brat.”

  “And…you’re a stupid shit,” I retorted. We were good.

  As we prepared to put them away, one of the photos dropped to the floor. I went to return it to the pile, but the image left me frozen in place. I stared silently at Simon, and my hand shook slightly.

  He spoke with smooth calmness but clearly sensed my fear. “Mom, why don’t you leave the pictures here? I’ll bring them to you when we catch up later.”

  She left with a smile, and he turned on me before the door closed. “Well?”

  My voice was shaky. “The photo. Who is the man behind you on the right?”

  Simon took the photo. “That’s Bryson Gentrie. He went to school with us. Why?”

  I looked at the picture again. There were seven people, and I could identify six of them—my mother, Zane, Simon, Hawa, Nanny, and now Bryson.

  I struggled to pull the pieces together, but Simon was persistent. “Talk to me, brat. I’m growing mold over here.”

  “Bryson Gentrie is the man I bit when I took off from the nursery. He’s the guy who scared the shit out of me.”

  ****

  Within a half hour, my entire entourage and several high-ranking security officials were assembled in our quarters at the castle.

  “What does this mean?” Quinn demanded. “Bryson was never a consideration in any of this.”

  Zane remained confused. “Are you sure, Tia? It was Bryson Gentrie?”

  “He hasn’t changed at all. It was him. Do you have to go into my memory to see that?”

  He scowled. “It isn’t that easy. Your fear kept you from forming a memory that day in the ballroom so you have nothing to compare. Now you have the picture, and it’s a different memory in a different place in your brain. But if you’re sure, I believe you.”