Disclaimer: Go to any earlier chapter and see that for something slightly (not) witty - I own nothing.
Chapter Ten
"What do you mean? And why do you keep calling me that?" I ask.
"Maggie is no more your real name than Blane is mine," Blane smiles as if he knows the frustration I've suffered for years because of my not-name; "They are the monikers we go by to simply please others. You are a compassionate, optimistic young woman, as such 'Little Sun' seems an appropriate nickname until you find your real name."
I find myself nodding in understanding while Aaron suggests "Big Spark" as an alternative under his breath. Blane ignores us both.
"To understand how you are unique among daimons, you must first know our history," he says; "As daimons we're powerful, with a magic similar to witches, but we are not witches and we cannot use their magic. Though one daimon is generally more powerful than a coven of twelve witches, you are more."
I have an idea where this part of the conversation is leading. A glance at Hope shows she does too.
"You Little Sun, have the blood of a witch running through your veins and can use their magic as well as your own powers. If I had to wager, I would say you are more powerful that a coven of thirty, maybe forty witches. However, as you have discovered, there are drawback s to the power we have and this affects your witch powers as well."
I don't know enough about witch magic to understand the difference between the two. I guess Blane expects me to figure this out on my own or perhaps he doesn't fully know the differences himself, only that they're there.
"The fact you have so much power and yet are so young is also unusual among daimons. I am an elder among our kind and have witnessed the development of many daimons, enough to see a pattern. We are born with a natural, accelerated healing ability. Most of us develop the power to heal others, but you are the youngest to have cultivated that ability."
I shift, uncomfortable, because I can tell this conversation is far from over.
"You are manifesting other daimon abilities as well that most others do not discover until they've lived many lives," Blane is really getting into his storyteller role, gesticulating with wide arms; "You will reach your full potential sooner than most and I will have to adjust my lessons accordingly, but that is of little consequence to you."
Hope gives a small snort beside me. I glance at her to see she finds this amusing. Aaron stares at Blane, engrossed in the explanation. Blane settles in his monologue and focuses his eyes on me unnervingly.
"Finally, as a child of a vampire, you will inherit certain abilities of their supernatural heritage. Daimons have never been born of a witch before – they usually use their craft to abscond with their loves to a new life where their passion is not forbidden. With werewolves, daimon-born children have been known to turn into wolves at will. As for children of vampire parentage, each case is different but many of the daimons have developed the speed and strength of their supernatural parent over the years. I image you will have these abilities as well on top of your witch magic."
"Okay, I get your point. I'm a freak even among the daimons," I finish up for him.
So much for fitting in when I found my real family.
"On the contrary, Little Sun, you are not a freak, but the product of a love more powerful than most. Your parents, whoever they are, are very powerful creatures. They overcame many struggles and adversity to love each other and you are the result. You are an inspiration to other daimons and young lovers. Most importantly, you are a daimon, and no matter how different you are, you are one of us."
"She's a part of my pack too," Aaron interrupts; "Leo agreed while you were in the church. If you want, werewolf or not, we'd like to make you a member of our pack, to be your family even when you do find your real one."
"I'd like that very much," I hug him. I'm grateful for the offer, but still certain that with Blane's help I will find my parents.
"Since we're interrupting, could you explain how you know so much about us, yet you don't know who Maggie's parents are?" Hope asks, very suspicious.
"I've been in this town since the day she was born," Blane answers passively; "It is my gift to sense the arrival of other daimons in the world. I came here, to wait until she came into her powers and returned home to find answers. I have watched the mortal and supernatural world as I waited and I learned all of this city's dirty secrets and then some. That is how I know of you young Hope and little Aaron here; because I have watched you grow up. Little Sun was taken from this city and hidden for a long time, which is why I know little of her. I waited, because I knew she would be drawn to her birth city once day. I have watched her since she arrived and I guided her here when the time was right."
"How did you know I would return? Be drawn to New Orleans?" I ask while Hope mulls over his answer.
"We daimons are drawn to things of importance to our parents; places that meant something to both of them, people they cared about, and favorite things of theirs. I, for example, have always loved the color green, just as my father did. When my powers began to manifest, I was pulled to the city of my birth, where my parents had lived. There I was drawn to a great niece of my father, who knew both of my parents; she told me everything she could remember about them. The same is true for you," Blane says, sweeping his hand to take in the tomb and the city around us.
"You were drawn to New Orleans and this tomb in particular because this is the place you were born and this tomb holds great meaning to your parents. You were pulled into the supernatural world, because it is the world your parents live in. Just as you were drawn to your two companions and them to you, because they are important to your parents."
"How is that possible? Aaron's a werewolf, Hope's a witch, and one of my parents is a vampire – they're all different species and everybody's made it clear the different factions don't mix well."
"I cannot explain the how, Little Sun," he says, but I know it's more like will not, based on the flickering of his personal light; "I can only say why the three of you have been drawn together. You have the gift for knowing, so listen to your heart and tell us what you feel when you look at Aaron and Hope."
I look at Aaron first – he looks as overwhelmed as I feel at this development. Yet this is also freeing to me, because for the first time in years as I have most of the answers I have sought. Soon I will have them all. Smiling encouragingly at Aaron, I let my heart speak:
"Brother."
"And Hope?"
"Sister," I proclaim clearly, looking at Hope's similar, but startled face.
"That's not possible, my parents were werewolves, and they're both dead," Aaron disagrees, but I can see he wishes he could believe the way I do.
He wants a family as much as I do.
"My parents are still alive and they could have more kids if they wanted to, but they don't love each other," Hope scoffs; "In fact they're both in love with other people they can never be with."
Then Hope blinks as she realizes what she's just said – that either of her parents could've had a daimon child, could've had me.
"Are you parents' vampires?" I ask. Even though I've been told vampires can't have children, I'm sure there's a complicated explanation somewhere.
"They're hybrids," Hope admits, then shakes her head stubbornly; "But this isn't possible. It isn't possible."
She scoots away in denial. Her expression says she's clicking more things into place. Still she stands up, shaking her head.
"Hope," I stand up and reach for her.
"Stay away from me!" she runs out of the crypt.
"Hope!" I follow her, Aaron on my heels.
Luckily, Hope hasn't gone far. She's pacing between the tombs, running her hand through her hair and muttering. Aaron and I stand a few feet away and watch her. I sling my arm around Aaron and bring him close. He's still shell-shocked, but hopeful and willing to believe we really are family.
"How old are you?" Hope stabs a finger in Aaron's direction.
"Thirteen, but I'll be fourteen in a few months," Aaron replies and Hope whimpers.
"I had a baby brother," she says at last after pacing silently for a few heartbeats; "His name was Oliver and he was taken from us just after he was born. He'd be about your age, but he's a hybrid like me and you're just an untriggered werewolf."
"He might be a hybrid," I say, a puzzle piece falling into place; "He's wearing a spelled necklace that might be muffling him."
"Take it off," Hope marches towards us as Aaron lets out a garbled, "What?"
"I'll hold it for you," I promise him; "I'll keep it safe and give it right back."
Aaron wars with himself, but trusts me in the end. He pulls his wolf necklace off slowly and hands it to me.
As soon as it's off, Hope places her hands on both of Aaron's shoulders. Then she invokes a spell that I don't catch. Aaron howls and pulls away from Hope, he doubles over and I reach for him only for Hope to hold me back.
"What did you do to me?" Aaron demands, his words wet, his hand covering his mouth.
"I forced your vampire side to show itself," Hope replies and I try to move forward as Aaron spits blood, but she stops me; "Those are your baby fangs, you should've lost them years ago with the rest of your baby teeth. Your necklace must have been suppressing all of your vampire nature."
"I don't want to drink blood!" Aaron cries, horrified.
"You don't have to, I don't. Plus now you have all your vampire abilities like me," Hope responds dismissively.
"But my parents are dead."
"You said his dad was Jackson right?" Hope questions Blane.
So caught up in our family revelation, I hadn't noticed the other daimon had followed us. But there he stands, leading casually against the crypt, watching us figure out this puzzle.
"That is correct," Blane nods.
"Then your mom is my mom and she's alive and still searching for you," Hope tells Aaron and I see a chord of love flash around her that I can now find around Aaron.
"My dad said she died. Why would he lie?"
"I don't know," Hope answers, but she's lying.
The glance she gives me tells me to not call her out on it. I send her a look that says she'd better tell me why later.
"Hope, do you know a spell that would allow you to see the way I do?" I ask; a plan forming that I believe will convince they both once and for all.
"There's a spell that allows people to share senses that I could modify, why?"
"I want to show you something. Could you make the spell work for Aaron too?"
"Give me a second," Hope holds up a finger and mentally reworks the spell for several minutes; "Okay, got it. If we all hold hands and you do the spell while I preform another, we'll all see what you see."
We form a triangle and Hope teaches me the spell. It takes me a few tries to get the pronunciation right. Then I have to ignore the distraction that is Hope chanting her own spell, before I finally get my part down. Once I do, the spell works perfectly.
My second sight grows dimmer, but still clear and present. Then I watch as magical light peels off from my eyes. It lazes through the air and covers Hope and Aaron's eyes, like fiery sunglasses – they both gasp.
"What is this?" Hope reaches up to touch the bond between her and her father, a particularly strong bond in her.
"This is how I see the world," I explain; "I see the love that connects people and binds them together. The love of friends and family, of parents and children, and the love of well, lovers; I see it all, all the time. See that line there," I pluck the chord Aaron and Hope share; "It looks different on each of you, but that's your bond with your mom. She loves you both strongly, but since you've never known her Aaron, her love only encompasses you instead of connecting like Hope's does. That mostly white light there, that's your bond with your dad Aaron, it's white because he's gone, but his love for you and you for him is not."
"What about these chords?" Hope traces two growing, purple and yellow lines between the three of us.
"Those are our new bonds, as siblings and friends," I tell her and we share a grin.
Seeing the world as I do, they both believe and accept that we are siblings – though it takes a lot more talking. In a cemetery of all places, I've finally found part of my family. Maybe it's only fitting, since according to Hope our family has a large history with the dead.
This is not how I expected this reunion to go. I feel great nonetheless.
I know what I am now. I have a brother and a sister who accept me for what I am and I'm already bonding with them despite the circumstances. This is far better than I'd hoped it would be.
Then of course, the reunion is interrupted.
Blane cries out as he is stabbed from behind by a woman with coppery hair and a sneer. Hope, Aaron, and I drop hands, our spell broken as we turn to confront the threat. Only the woman isn't alone.
Eight other men and women drift out of the shadows, chanting – witches. I don't recognize any of them. Hope collapses to her knees, covering her ears as she starts to scream. I move, intending to channel raw power into a shield around us, but them I'm hit in the head.
I black out for a few seconds, maybe. When I open my eyes again, Aaron is on his knees, searching the ground for his wolf which I have dropped. He's trying to fight the spell that's hurting him also. The witches are moving in on a defenseless Hope.
I see another body closing in on Aaron. I try to warn him, but I am fading too fast. My head wound is not my only injury, I have been stabbed twice as well – I cannot fight my need to heal. The last thing I see before I black out for good is Aaron's wolf lying several feet in front of me as a witch incapacitates my little brother.