by Vera Sparks
I opened my eyes as he undid a chain around his neck. I’d never noticed it before, as it was a long chain that dipped beneath his shirt, hiding whatever it was. He pulled it out to reveal a white stone pendant that swirled magically.
“What is it?” I frowned.
“Your memories. I’d give them all back to you at once, but that may be overwhelming right now. So here,” he reached around to do the clasp up around my neck. “I’ve rigged it to slowly pass memories back to you. Once it fades to a black stone, you’ll have all your memories back. Should help make the next few weeks bearable,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” I smiled softly as I touched the pendant. It was warm against my fingers, and I gasped as images and memories flooded my mind.
I was in the kitchen with my mother as she taught me a variety of potions from a potion book. Her magic she used was a soft pink color, as she enjoyed infusing everything she did with love.
“This one is what we call an all-rounder potion. There’s a fancy Latin name, but it’s too hard to pronounce. We use it to help us when we’re very unwell. It contains all the vitamins and minerals we need, plus a dose of strong magic to help us get better.”
I was probably twelve as I sat on the stool at the counter as my mother blended all the ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. She hummed softly as I watched intently, her bright blue eyes focused as she worked. Her blonde hair was done up in a messy bun, a few stray strands fell down to frame her heart s-aped face with soft features. She wore a teal tank top and long white skirt, and she moved with a strange serenity, like she was always content.
“Who’s it for?” I asked as I watched her work. She would occasionally pretend to add a pinch of something, and a few clouds of pink smoke would fall into the mortar.
“A sweet old werewolf here in Portland. He’s getting old and needs some help nowadays. My potions help keep him well,” my mother said with a soft smile that lit up her face.
“Does he go to your shop often?” I asked, my long blonde hair bouncing against my shoulders.
“Not too much these days. He makes phone orders mostly. We’ll drop it off to him. Would you like to come with me?” she asked with a tentative smile.
“Yes!” I beamed.
My mother nodded as she continued the finishing touches to her potion as she added assorted liquids to it.
The memory faded, and I blinked as my father sat before me, watching carefully. I realized with a start that my face was wet.
“What’d you see?” my father asked softly when he was sure I was back.
“Mom,” I smiled as I closed my eyes, capturing the image of her sweet smile and face in my mind. “I was watching her make an all-rounder potion. She had a shop,” I murmured as I opened my eyes again.
“That’s the potion you’ll need. And she did have a shop. To the normal world, it just seems like an herb and natural medicine shop, but to the supernatural world, it’s a potion shop,” he said.
“You speak as if it’s still here?” I chewed my lip. Was it possible it was? A place that I felt would hold even more memories of her?
“It is, her sister, Janine, runs it now,” my father nodded.
“Here, in Portland?” I gaped. And I never knew of it? Right, no magical memories.
“Yes, it would’ve been the first place I’d think of to get potions for you. But considering they aren’t big fans of me, I’d have to go elsewhere.”
“Can we go? Please?” I asked quickly. I wanted to see it. Something told me that the shop would bring me more memories, and maybe even Janine would trigger some. I had an Aunt, and I really did want to meet her.
“Are you sure? Right now? You can’t even walk easily, if at all,” my father reminded me. Defiantly, I tried to stand, but he was right. My body was so weak and unused for so long, that my bones creaked and my muscles failed, and I had to sit back down and catch my breath.
“This is shit,” I breathed.
“Well, it’s not exactly easy. You need to rebuild yourself.”
“I’m back!” Alex sung out as the front door opened. He flitted over to join us and the sweet aroma of the Italian from Ricora’s place hit me, where we’d had one of our dates what seemed like a lifetime ago. I moaned as I made grabby hands for the doggy bag, my mouth watering like a three-year-old child in a candy store.
“Let me serve it,” Alex pulled away with a smirk.
I pouted, but he was quick as he flitted to the kitchen and back. Having a vampire on call certainly was a good deal.
He handed me the plate with the steamy hot pasta.
“Creamy pesto pasta, I remember you liked that one. They had a fancy name for it though,” he smiled.
I dug in, my stomach begging for food.
“Take it slow, your body has survived on very little. You don’t want to overdo it,” my father reminded me.
Pesto pasta. That was what I’d had on our date. And he’d remembered. I shot him a grateful look as I shoveled it into my mouth. His expression was hard to gauge, it looked concerned and tender, pleased that I was enjoying my meal. Upset maybe? It was hard to distinguish, and I focused on the delicious food instead.
“Got you a meatball one, thought you might be hungry,” Alex said as he handed the bag to my father.
“Oh, thanks. I’m actually quite hungry,” my father accepted the bag and gave Alex a nod of approval. He stuck with eating from the takeaway container with the plastic fork, whereas Alex had traded mine for a decent stainless steel one.
Dad sat next me as he ate, while Alex used the edge of the coffee table to perch in front of me as he watched me eat.
Otis was nestled into my side with his eye closed.
It was a struggle just to eat after the first few mouthfuls, my arms failing to simply hold up the plate and fork. And as hungry as I was, I knew I couldn’t eat too much. My stomach had shrunk from the lack of food over the months.
“Once I’m finished up here, I’m going to go check on Monica if that’s okay with you two, the spell should hold you over and I’ll get you some all-rounder potions as well,” my father said after a mouthful of food. “Otis can inform me if I’m needed back here, I’ll get him to stay with you.”
My mind jumped to Axle, and I hoped he wouldn’t fret too much when he saw me next. I’d smell different, myself again, but he might sense the change.
“I’ll stay with Ivy,” Alex said instantly. I doubted he’d take no for an answer. He was staying no matter what anyone said. Not that either of us argued. My father just nodded.
“When I’m feeling better, I want to go to mom’s old shop. See Janine,” I murmured as I set my half-eaten meal down on the table.
“We will,” my father reassured.
“Can’t eat anymore?” Alex asked as he indicated at the plate. I shook my head, my body still unable to really co-operate.
Alex flitted off to the kitchen to store it away in the fridge for later. So thoughtful.
“You worried about Monica?” I asked as I lolled my head back on the couch. It felt good to have something in my belly, but I also knew I might pay for it later. My stomach gurgled in agreement.
“Yes,” my father murmured, although there was something about the way he said it. Something wasn’t quite right, but I was too weak and tired to bother asking for the truth.
My father scooted off the couch as I started to fall to the side, and he moved a pillow down flat so that I could lay down.
“Get some rest. You need it. We’ll take care of you,” my father murmured.
“Thanks,” I breathed as I closed my eyes.
Sleep. That was something I longed for, something I’d gone without for so long. And as soon as I had the thought, I was gone, drifting off into a dream filled with magical childhood memories.
9
I awoke with a start, a memory of my mother showing me her magic in use, teaching me target practice with my own energy spurring me to wake.
I took a moment to o
rientate myself. Someone had moved me to my bed and tucked me in. I instantly knew it was Alex. I grimaced as my body ached and throbbed, and a sudden wave of sickness washed over me.
I dragged myself quickly from my bed despite my protesting limbs and flung myself into the en-suite. I hurled into the toilet, groaning as I clung to the edge of the toilet bowl as my stomach gurgled.
Guess the pesto pasta had been too much.
“You okay?”
I grunted in response as Alex knelt down beside me.
“Go away, I look like shit,” I muttered. I didn’t want him to see me like this.
“You do, I’ll give you that, but you’re in no state to be left alone. Your dad visited Maria and Monica before dawn, Monica is still in a coma. But they’re hopeful she’ll pull through. Maria is already awake and on the mend. Percy is staying with her on your behalf, although your Dad has to let him know how you’re going,” Alex scowled but pushed his annoyance with the ‘wolf aside. “I came over just after sunset to take over. Your dad is gathering up supplies to mix some potions for you. Apparently your mother taught him some stuff, and he’d rather make it himself instead of buying it. Something about not trusting other witches anymore,” Alex shrugged.
“I slept through the whole day?” I muttered as my stomach threatened to send whatever remnants it had back up.
“Yeah, you needed it,” Alex said as he tugged some toilet paper off the roll and leaned forward to wipe my mouth.
“You don’t have to do this, you’re not my carer,” I groaned. My breath probably stank too now, and his face was inches from mine. “What about Axle?”
“No, but I will. I’m surprised you even got in here. Maybe my blood is helping your muscles get back to work. Your Dad said if you’re willing, vampire blood would be a bonus for you right now. Help you get yourself going again.
“And he’s out in the living room with Otis. Your dad picked him up this morning, he came in and saw you, even slept with you for a fair part of the day apparently. I came over a little while ago just as your Dad was feeding him. He told me to tell you he’s been out to the toilet too recently, if you woke up.”
“And you’ll be forever linked to me if I take more of your blood?” I smirked as I slid away from the bowl to lean on the cream-colored wall. The white tiles were cool against my bare legs, and I realized someone had changed me into some pajamas too. An AC/DC top and blue shorts. Definitely another Alex move, as I doubted my father would dare do that. And Alex had some sense to match the clothing.
“I have no ulterior motive,” Alex’s lip pulled back in annoyance, as if the accusation actually hurt. “Besides, a link to you wouldn’t do much anyway. I’d just know when you were in danger or in pain and I can always find you.”
I could see how that could be useful, perhaps. But having him always knowing where to find me and how I was feeling was a bit much. But his blood did help. I knew that much was true. There were people who even drained vampires and sold their blood on the black market. It had incredible healing qualities and could heighten sexual pleasure. Apparently. I was grateful that hadn’t happened. Yet.
“Let’s get you up. I made pumpkin soup for you.”
I stared at him in disbelief as he slipped his arms under me and hefted me up, bridal style. I was equally surprised to see him not in his standard suit. He was in dark jeans and a navy top. And he looked mighty fine.
“You cooked soup?” I said in amazement as he set me down on the couch.
Axle was beside me instantly, licking my arm as his tail thumped against the cushions, his icy blue eyes overjoyed that I was awake. Otis had to shuffle backwards to avoid being knocked off the couch by his flailing tail.
“Believe it or not, I do know how to cook. I may not need to eat, but I do have friends who eat. Besides, when you’re immortal, you get bored, you take up hobbies,” he shrugged.
The smell of hot pumpkin soup hit me and my stomach rumbled. I was somewhat queasy still, but food sounded good. Besides, maybe the soup wouldn’t affect me so much. And I needed to get my strength back, to start building myself up again.
I rested one hand on Axle, who calmed down and sighed as he rested his head on my lap. Despite his excitement, he hadn’t jumped on me, as if he knew I was fragile right now.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on me boy,” I murmured as I scratched his ears. “You too, Otis,” I looked over at the pig at the other end of the couch.
He snorted in acknowledgement and I smiled.
Alex flitted to the kitchen and returned with a steaming bowl of soup and a warm bread roll.
“Thank you,” I sighed as I accepted the meal. It smelt like a cool winter night indoors huddled in front of the TV. The image was so clear in my mind and I relaxed as I raised the spoon to my lips. The rich creamy soup was delicious and a welcome comfort.
Alex sat beside me where it was free and automatically wrapped the blanket around my shoulders.
“I’m surprised how cold I am,” I mumbled through a mouthful of soup dipped bread.
“Your body has taken quite a whack, it’s not able to function fully and regulate your temperature I imagine,” Alex said.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I frowned.
“Danny is covering for me. I only had a few cases and they’re mostly handled. Besides, I do my job for the joy of it, I don’t need the money. You’re more important.”
I froze at those words, with the spoon jutting out of my mouth.
As if on cue the door swung open and my father tumbled in with armfuls of bags.
Alex was gone in an instant from my side, just a rush of air left in his wake as he helped my father with his groceries.
“You’re up! And eating, good,” my Dad sighed as he dumped the last few bags on the counter and nodded in appreciation at Alex.
Otis had leaped off the couch and trotted over to greet him as well with soft snorts.
“She threw up as soon as she woke up,” Alex stated and I pulled a face at him. Why’d he have to tell him that?
“I figured you’d be sick after you ate. Your body will take time to adjust to eating again. I’ll whip up a few different potions, there’s one that’ll help fight the nausea and keep your food down,” he said as he began pulling out jars and small packets from the grocery bags.
“Wait, can I help? I want to try the all-rounder potion,” I asked.
My Dad frowned as he stopped midway through unpacking.
“I remembered Nom showing me how to make it, she said it was the most common potion and if I ever wanted to help her in the shop, then I had to learn it,” I said. I’d dreamed of potion making with her, of infusing my magic into the recipes to add the touch that was needed to fully activate it all. I’d remembered talk of her shop, and the way she smiled brightly when she spoke of it.
“What else did you dream?” my dad asked softly.
“She was teaching me how to cast my magic, hers was pink most of the time, mine was blue. We were doing target practice by a river,” I murmured as I relived the memory. The cool breeze brushing my cheek, carrying the freshness of the water with it. A secluded spot by the river where my mother set up a few handmade cardboard targets. She’d taught me a few times before to cast my magic, but now it was to focus my aim, to be more precise with my shots.
To focus on the power within me. She’d stand behind me as she guided me through how to harness my inner energy and bring it forth.
I’d summoned up a blue spark and knocked down a small target on my second shot.
“Your mother and I believed you were just a witch, so we taught you only the basics. It’s good you’re remembering more of her,” my father said gently.
“I’d like to help make a potion. I want to try,” I said as I tried to stand. Alex was beside me in an instant and I was grateful for the assistance as I leaned on his sturdy body to gain my footing. Axle followed along beside me, his body pushed against my leg as if to assist me as well. My legs groaned and ached,
but I hobbled to the kitchen counter with Alex’s help and he lifted me onto a stool.
“All right,” my father sighed as he selected out the required ingredients and pushed them towards me.
He slid the new green stone mortar and pestle over as well, and I got to work. Alex perched on a stool beside me as he watched.
“Measuring spoons, please?” I asked and my father opened the kitchen draw and handed them to me.
I remembered the quantities from my fresh memories and began opening the packets and jars and adding ingredients into the mortar.
Once I had all the minerals, herbs and vitamin ingredients in, I began the careful task of grinding them and infusing them with magic.
It came so naturally and easily as I pinched my fingers over the mortar and focused my energy, small puffs of blue falling down in the mortar and infusing with the mixture.
My father watched with a contented smile as I worked, and Alex kept silent with interest.
Eventually it was done after I added some liquid ingredients and mixed it thoroughly.
My father slid me an empty bottle, and I carefully poured it in, my hands shaking from the exertion.
“Here,” Alex murmured as he caught my hands and steadied them.
I smiled gratefully as I finished transferring the mix and bottled it up.
“You should have some now, I’ll get started on the one for the nausea,” my father stated as he reached for the mortar and pestle.
I nodded and took a swig from the bottle. It had an interesting taste for sure, and the texture wasn’t amazing, bitter and tangy all at once. I scrunched up my nose as I put the lid back on and swallowed.
I watched quietly as my father mixed up another potion and infused it with puffs of yellow energy. He bottled it up in a similar glass bottle to the first but wrapped a purple ribbon around it to distinguish it apart.
“Take this, it’ll help keep your food down. Whenever you feel queasy, just have a sip of it. Take the all-rounder daily with food, preferably breakfast. Make more up as needed.”
I nodded as I accepted the bottle and took a sip. This one was more sweet, but the thick, sticky texture was sickening.