Love, Lies and Blood Ties: A young adult paranormal romance (Love, Lies and Ties Book 2)

by C. J. Laurence

  Chapter Thirteen

  When she said doorway, she wasn’t kidding. As we stepped under the arch, my entire body developed pins and needles. Then, like a shimmering haze on the horizon of a desert, everything changed. The harbour vanished, all the boats and still waters becoming solid land. The houses and shops disappeared, leaving nothing but open green fields. All that remained of anything familiar was St Mary’s Church and the ruins of the Abbey, and of course the steps.

  Behind me, the whalebone arch stood proud, but the Captain Cook statue had vanished, along with the sea front hotels.

  “Where’s it all gone?” I said, looking at Joanna, completely dumbfounded.

  She pointed down the steps of Khyber Pass, if it was still called that in this world, and said, “We can only practice what we need to and be truly ourselves in the safety of another realm.” She lifted her free hand up and gestured all around her. “This is it.”

  “So only witches can get in here?”

  “Yep. No witch blood, no entry. The pins and needles you felt was the magic in the arch. It remembers every single witch who passes through it. Next time you come through it’ll just be like stepping from one room into another.”

  “But aren’t vampires technically witch blood?”

  She grinned. “No. They’re made from magic. We’re human with magical abilities. Completely different.”

  As I looked out over this new realm from my high up vantage point, I noticed a huge bonfire down near the sea front. A single pole stood in the middle of it, the flames circling it yet not touching it. At least two dozen witches surrounded it, all joined by their hands around the outer edge of the fire. I frowned and squinted my eyes as I looked at the pole again. It looked like someone was tied to it.

  “Joanna…”

  She turned us away from it quickly and led us down the steps. “Yes, it is.”

  My heart flipped over and over like an Olympic gymnast. I knew what she was saying but I had to double check. “‘Yes it is’ what?”

  “Yes, it is a person.”

  I became paralysed with fear. What? They were actually going to burn a person to death? What kind of messed up world was this?

  “Cat, there are reasons we do what we do. We select our sacrifices carefully.”

  I wanted to throw up. Marcus had told me witches sacrifice people, but I hadn’t expected to actually witness it. A cold sweat broke out all over me and I started trembling.

  “I can’t, Joanna. I can’t go down there.”

  “It’s fine. Just trust me. Let us explain it all to you. Please?”

  I dared to look at the poor soul tied to the stake. They didn’t appear to be screaming or panicking in the slightest. They simply just stood there. Or was that more to do with being restrained?

  “How could there be any explanation for this?” I asked. “It’s barbaric.”

  “I had the same reaction,” she said. “I understand. Just let Keres explain things to you. Then you can go whenever you like.”

  I sighed. I’d gotten this far. Surely a five-minute conversation wouldn’t hurt. “Ok. Show me the way.”

  “Thank you,” she said, leading me down the steps again.

  We carried on in silence. Once we reached the bottom of Khyber Pass, Joanna led me straight over the grass towards the bonfire. I’d expected this to be sand, the beach, but every inch of it was lush green grass, right up to the waters edge.

  “Joanna.” An older lady with white permed hair approached Joanna with her arms outstretched. They embraced, kissing each other on the cheek. Then the older woman settled her silvery eyes on me. “You must be Caitlyn, our newest addition. Come, dear, let me show you around.”

  I glanced at Joanna who stepped to one side and nodded. “It’s ok. This is Keres. She’s our High Priestess and one of our seven Elders. She will explain everything to you.”

  Dressed in a flowy white maxi dress, a warm smile, and a cosy grandmother energy to her, I figured I’d give her five minutes. After all, she seemed to welcome me with open arms so far.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Caitlyn,” said Keres, guiding us down towards the bonfire in a leisurely walk. “I understand you may be feeling somewhat frightened and confused. That’s why I thought I’d start off with the darkest side of our lives—sacrifices.”

  My heart pounded so hard against my chest, I felt certain I’d have bruises tomorrow. A ball of fear lodged itself in my throat whilst a wave of horror threatened to hurl itself out of me. My palms were sweaty, and somewhere in the insanity running through my mind, I half wondered if they were going to throw me in the fire.

  “Do you believe in God, or Gods?” I asked, staring at the ground. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the woman tied to the stake.

  “Not in the sense you’re thinking,” Keres said, clasping her hands together in front of her legs. She looked so relaxed and at ease, as if this was nothing more than a nightly occurrence. “We’re more spiritual than religious. We believe in souls, energy, the world around us, the elements. The magic running through our blood enables us to use all this beauty for ourselves whether it’s for our own gain or for the greater good.”

  “Where does this come into it then?” I said, pointing at the bonfire.

  “There are two sides to everything, Caitlyn. Good and evil, day and night, the sun and the moon. One cannot exist without the other. You can’t have light without darkness. The magic in our veins doesn’t come from thin air. It comes from things like this.”

  I shook my head. “I fail to see how burning someone to death gives you magic.”

  She slid a slender arm around my shoulder. The friendly gesture felt off, too forced almost, but I let it be. “Have you ever noticed in a family how when there’s a birth, not long after there’s a death? Or someone will die and then shortly after, someone will discover they’re pregnant.”

  I thought about that for a moment. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “Well, it’s a cycle. A cycle of life. Birth, life, death. All three follow each other perfectly. We don’t sacrifice just anyone, they’re witches themselves.”

  “Are you basically telling me that you kill your own kind to get more of your own kind?”

  “In a roundabout way, yes.”

  Despite us being close enough to feel the heat of the six-foot flames, I shivered. “That makes no sense.”

  “Let me explain further. If a witch has not tapped into their magical abilities by age twenty-seven, they never will do, but that’s not the end of it. The unused magic will simmer in their body, slowly seeping into every fibre of their being, and it will, within a matter of years develop into a number of things. They may go insane, they may develop tumours, cancer, diabetes, any number of ailments modern medicine tries to fix.”

  As soon as she said ‘cancer’ my heart skipped a beat, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Dad was still sleeping.

  “What we do is offer them a painless way out. They’re not only helping themselves but also the people they were born into. When they pass on, the magic they once had is released back into the cosmos, able to be used once more for another witch.”

  “Recycling,” I said, without thinking.

  Keres nodded. “Exactly. This lady here, Cassandra, is twenty-eight. She’s just been diagnosed with leukaemia. Fortunately, one of the nurses at the hospital spotted her case and explained her situation to her. Sadly, quite a high number of witches are born and never introduced to their real heritage. Almost all of them offer themselves to us. If they have children, we take care of them. Whatever debts or messes they leave behind, we deal with it. We’re like a funeral package.”

  It seemed bizarre but it kind of made sense. “But why burn them? It’s so…medieval.”

  She tilted her head back and cackled like a witch. The noise brought goosebumps up all over me.

  “They get a choice. It’s their life, so their ending. Some want a needle, some want to be shot, others stabbed, some—”


  “Ok, ok, I get the idea. Who in their right mind would want to be burned though?”

  “Cassandra’s bloodline traces back to the witch trials in Scotland. She wanted to end her life in honour of them. In her eyes, she’s done them a dishonour by not following her heritage in life so she is repaying them in death. We have given her a potion that has numbed her nerves. She will feel no pain.”

  The brunette tied to the stake looked peaceful. Her eyes were closed as if she were sleeping and a soft smile curled her pink lips up slightly.

  “Ladies,” Keres said, letting go of me and opening her arms to her coven. “It’s time.”

  The witches surrounding the flames walked towards them. To my absolute amazement, the fire moved away from them, almost walking itself towards Cassandra and the stake. Once it hit the straw and kindling underneath her feet, the witches backed off but still kept their circle.

  Cassandra opened her eyes and looked directly at Keres. “Thank you,” she shouted.

  She then closed her eyes again and let the hungry orange flames ravage her body. I was so stunned and so shocked, I couldn’t look away. How could someone be so calm and at peace with being burned alive? I waited for the stench of burning flesh to hit my nose and make me hurl but it didn’t happen.

  “Why am I smelling nothing?”

  “We temper the environment here. There’s no weather, so no icy cold temperatures or roasting hot heatwaves. We also neutralised all smells. It helps when making spells if we can smell the ingredients in the rawest, purest form.”

  “I really don’t know if this is for me,” I said, turning my back on Cassandra’s blazing body.

  “I understand that. But let me explain a few things to you before you make your decision.”

  Keres held her arm out in front of her, beckoning for me to walk away from Cassandra. I didn’t need any encouragement.

  “What else do you need to explain to me?”

  “Your heritage, for one. You belong with the witches, Caitlyn. Have you ever felt like you’re an outsider, struggling to fit in, make friends, have people understand you?”

  I nodded. “All my life.”

  “That’s because you don’t belong with humans, Caitlyn. You belong with us. We are your family, your friends, your brothers and sisters. You’ll never feel like an outsider here.”

  As much as I was aware that she could potentially be manipulating me, I had to admit that no one so far had stared at me, not even so much as looked at me in a way to make me feel like I shouldn’t be here. All I’d seen were warm smiles and nothing but unity. Even in Cassandra’s death, everyone had been unified. Had that been part of what made her so calm?

  “Joanna wasn’t at liberty to discuss your parentage or the circumstances that have brought you back to us. I, however, am.” Keres gestured towards two giant oak trees a few metres ahead of us. Between their branches, hanging by ropes, sat a wooden bench, a swing seat of sorts. “Let’s sit and talk.”

  I frowned and glanced around me. I could have sworn we’d only been walking a couple of minutes, but Cassandra’s fire was nothing but a dot on the horizon, a single firefly in the darkness.

  “Both of your parents are witches, Caitlyn,” Keres said, sitting on the seat and patting the empty space next to her.

  I grabbed the rough rope to steady myself. “What? No. That’s impossible.” I sat down next to her, in a complete daze. “No. It can’t be true.”

  Keres waved a hand through the air in front of us, a patch of another world shining through, as if we were watching a TV screen. A sandy beach, bright blue skies, and the sea, it was a beautiful picture. A young woman on her own strolled into view, a straw hat on her head and her white cardigan gently blowing in the sea breeze. She held an ice cream in her left hand, her tongue winding around and around it as her strawberry blonde hair flowed behind her like a delicate train.

  My heart skipped a beat and I gasped. I knew without even seeing her face that it was my mum. This was the story of how they met. I’d always loved hearing it as a kid, it was my favourite bedtime story, especially with how Mum dramatised it.

  A seagull divebombed at my mum and her ice cream, startling her. She moved it out of sight and swatted at the pesky bird with her free hand, but it wasn’t deterred. It kept coming back from all angles, determined to get a bite of her afternoon treat. Seconds later, another two seagulls joined the first, all taking their turns swooping down and attempting to steal Mum’s ice cream.

  As Mum took her hat off and waved it at the annoying pests, a man ran into view. His long legs covered the beach metres at a time. The sunlight picked out his dark hair, making it shine like onyx. As he approached Mum, he reached out with his right hand and merely made a flicking motion with his thumb and finger. The birds instantly retreated, squawking at each other and flying off.

  Mum turned around, tripped over her own feet and fell over, dropping her ice cream in the sand. Dad helped her to her feet, and from there, as they say, the rest was history.

  “Pay close attention to your dad’s hand,” Keres said, rewinding the scene to the point where Dad outstretched his arm. “I’m going to play it frame by frame. Don’t blink or you’ll miss it.”

  I leaned in and watched Dad’s hand. As Keres took it through second by second, I could see it as clear as day—as Dad touched his finger and thumb together a golf ball sized circle of air appeared at the tip of his finger. When he flicked it towards the birds, it divided into three separate balls, each one pelting each bird and turning them away from Mum.

  “Wow,” I whispered, leaning back. I really needed something solid behind me to support me. “I can’t believe I’ve just seen that.”

  “Your father is a dual elemental witch. He can control air and earth. He’s very powerful.”

  “This makes so much sense now,” I said, her last words completely going over the top of my head. “When Mum told me the story as a child, she always said that Dad had magic gems he threw at the birds to make them go away and leave her alone.”

  “She wasn’t too far from the truth,” Keres replied, smiling.

  “But if Mum is a witch too, why didn’t she just save herself?”

  “Because she didn’t know she was a witch until she met your father. Then she discovered that she herself came from a highly regarded witch family. Unfortunately, she only had power over water. Through her bloodline, she should have been born at least a dual elemental, but for some reason, nature decided otherwise.”

  “Oh. Is that something you can do then, predict what elements children of witches will have?”

  Keres pulled her lips into a thin line. “To a degree. We can tell if they’re going to be single or dual elementals. Fire is easy to sense when the baby is still in the womb, the other three, not so much, so it’s still rather a ‘see what you get’ when they’re born.”

  “Do you know what I am?”

  A quirky smile tugged at Keres lips. Under the moonlight, her face half shadowed, I would almost have described it as sinister. “Oh, yes. You are exceptionally unique. You have the power of all four elements. We’ve not had a witch with that power for nearly two centuries. You are quite the exception.”

  “How’s that?”

  “The way our bloodlines work is rather complicated. Some think it’s a simple case of getting two dual elementals together and breeding them to reproduce a child that has ability over all four. That’s not correct. Air is dominant over fire. Fire is dominant over water. Water is dominant over Earth. Earth is dominant over Air. It seems the way it fell with your parents meant that the only element missing was the most common—fire. Where your mother should have been a dual elemental, that skipped a generation and seemingly passed into you. Combine that with your doppelganger status and you are one nuclear bomb of a witch.”

  I sat in silence for several minutes, stunned, staring up at the huge full moon. What was I supposed to say to that? Apparently both my parents were witches and had kept this massive secret from
me all of my life. Dad’s little oops with the hospital letter and the truth of his cancer suddenly seemed very trivial.

  “Why haven’t they told me?” I said, tears blurring over my vision.

  I felt completely lost, like I’d just been thrown overboard into shark infested waters. How was I supposed to navigate these murky waters on my own?

  Keres sighed. She reached over and patted my hand, then said, “Because they don’t know they’re witches anymore.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  My jaw dropped. “What? How?”

  Rubbing her hand over the frozen picture of my dad throwing balls of air at seagulls, Keres made the image disappear, plunging us back into nothing but moonlight.

  “Power is something that is lusted after by everyone. It does not differentiate between humans, vampires, witches, or anything else that exists. When you were born, it became evident almost immediately you were, well, what you are. Your parents, instead of revelling in the joys of being new parents, found themselves backed into a corner, not knowing who to trust and viewing every single person as a potential threat. By the time you started school, things had progressed to a stage where they had to do something to protect you and themselves.”

  I frowned. “What did they do?”

  “With the aid of a couple of Elders, they put a binding spell on you. It was designed to hide your magic. In the name of plausible deniability, they both asked to have their memories locked too.”

  “Locked?”

  She nodded. “Memories can’t be erased. They’re an imprint on the brain. But what we can do is lock them away so deep, you never remember. We removed all elements of magic and witchcraft from their memories so they still had the years they’d spent together just minus a few truths.”

  “Mum’s magic gems in her story of her and Dad turned into rocks…he threw rocks at the birds. Is that why?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And when they split, why did they split?”

  Keres looked at the ground and sighed. “Your father came to us on his own and asked for you and your mum to move away, somewhere far away where no one would likely find you. His main concern was keeping you and your mum safe. He asked to stay here in the hope that any interested parties would expect to find you close by.”