Disclaimer - All recognizable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter One

Edward flicked through the sheet music in his folder. He was feeling inspired to play something when he got home, but he wasn't quite sure what.

He heard a truck pull to a stop at the curbside in front of him and looked up to see his smiling best friend peering at him from inside the mechanical beast.

"Thanks, Rose," he said in lieu of a greeting as he clambered in. "My test is next week so fingers crossed I can stop asking for rides."

Rose just shook her head. "Assuming you pass your test… or do you think another old lady will jump out in front of the car?" The teasing was evident in her tone.

"She did!" Edward defended.

"How's your mom?" Rose asked as she drove around the block and then towards Edward's apartment with his mom.

"She's acting weird," Edward told her. "She said she wants to talk to me when I get home."

"Do you know what she wants to talk to you about?"

"No clue."

His mother, Esme, who was an artist, had raised Edward. His father had died when his mom was pregnant with him, but his mom was more than enough. Her friend, Carlisle, had also helped raise him. Carlisle was like a father to him.

"Maybe she's got a big commission coming up?"

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. She's not been painting a lot lately, and that usually means something's on her mind."

"I'm sure it's nothing serious." When Rose saw Edward was worrying the edge of his sweater, she leaned across the cab and gently placed her hand on his. "Whatever it is, it's going to be fine."

Edward smiled at this comfort. Rose had been his best friend since childhood. This girl had bullied him for wearing glasses. She'd thrown them off his face and into the dirt, laughing as Edward scrabbled around to find them. Rose had walked over and pushed the girl down, telling her to leave him alone. She'd always looked out for him—even now.

The drive home didn't last long and after he had gotten out of the car, he gave Rose a wave before heading up the stairs to the apartment.

"Mom! I'm home!" Edward called, placing his bag on the floor by the door.

His mother appeared around the corner, her hair in loose curls around her head as she wore a light-coloured sweater, jeans, and some pixie boots. It amazed Edward whenever he looked at her. It was as if she didn't age. She looked no older than thirty, despite Edward being in his early twenties.

"I'm glad you're home," Esme said, walking over to Edward and embracing him. "How was work?"

Edward shrugged his shoulders. "The usual—bratty kids not wanting to learn how to play the piano but their parents forcing them."

Esme placed a small hand on his face and stroked.

"Do you want to freshen up or can we talk?"

"We can talk," Edward told her, nerves rising in his stomach.

His mom wasn't a worrier. She took everything as it came and she had always said to him when he was a child, 'when I worry, you worry.' The worry was now clear on her face.

They sat at the table where Esme had a small box in front of her.

"What's going on?" Edward asked, hoping his question might speed things up.

Esme pushed the small box, made of light-colored wood with a gold inscription in the center, towards him. The symbol looked vaguely familiar.

"It's the Mark of Cain," she told him, "but doesn't mean what you think," she quickly added when she saw the confusion on his face. "This is God's promise of divine protection."

Edward's long fingers slid over the smooth wood. Slowly, he opened the hinged lid to reveal a thick silver rod with a white crystal protruding from the end.

"What is it?" he asked, picking up the object. It felt heavy and cold in his hands. He twisted and turned it, scrutinizing it.

"It's called a scribe," Esme whispered. "You can use it to draw runes."

"Runes?" Edward asked.

The object fascinated him, it gave him a sense of power.

"Magic symbols that can do almost anything you want."

He raised his head to look at his mom, a sense of amusement overcoming her until she saw his face. His mom was deadly serious.

"Magic doesn't exist."

"Oh, it does, honey. It's all around us."

Esme gently took the scribe from him and he watched as she held it above the skin on the back of her hand and swirled it around.

"Mom!" he gasped, sitting forward when red burn marks appeared.

"It's alright," she told him, moving out of his reach. She put the tool back on the table and showed him the burned mark. It looked like a pattern, lines swirling and intercepting as if made by an artist.

Edward was speechless. He wasn't sure what to say. His mother had just… burned herself in front of him.

Esme stood from the table and walked over to the side where there was a thick white candle burning.

To Edward's horror, she placed her hand above the flame and lowered it.

"Mom!" he jumped up and rushed forward, fully intent on pulling her hand out and possibly calling an ambulance.

Is this what insanity looked like?

"It's okay," she said. "Look!"

Edward was breathing heavily. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and looked as the flame seemed to pass right through his mom's hand. Almost like it wasn't there.

"The rune I drew is for fireproofing. It means I can't get burned."

His mom took her hand away, and he grasped it in his own, examining her pale skin that remained blemish-free apart from the mark on the back of her hand.

Edward reached out and held his palm above the candle. It was hot and when he got his hand close enough; he felt the sizzle of the flame and sharply pulled his hand away

"It's not a trick, Edward."

He searched her eyes.

"What's going on, Mom?" He felt like a small child, completely confused about the world around him.

"You're a demon hunter, Edward. A race of people that keep this world safe from the dark world."

He heard her words, understood them. But they didn't register. How could they?

"Mom…" Edward began, not sure where he was going but needing her to understand that this wasn't right. Her words, her actions; none of them were making sense.

Demons… they didn't exist. He was so confused. This was unlike his mom.

Aunt Maggie cut him off by bursting in the room, her face almost as red as her hair.

"They're here," she abruptly told Esme.

His mother's face hardened, and Edward thought he saw a flash of brief fear in her eyes.

Immediately she began to move around the room. She swept her hair up into a ponytail and tore the sweater she had been wearing from her body; a white tank top remained, showing off more marks on her neck. Some of them were red raw and others were a faded purple; a few were black even, as if inked on.

"Mom," Edward said when seeing them.

"No time," she said sharply. She came to stand in front of him and placed her hands on his face. "I love you so much and I know we have a lot to talk about. Right now, you need to go with Maggie."

"I'm staying with you," Maggie said.

Esme turned to her. "I need to know he's safe and that he's got someone he can trust. Please go with him."

Maggie searched Esme's eyes. "Only because you asked nicely." She stepped closer to them. "Do you have it?"

Esme nodded before pressing a desperate kiss to Edward's forehead. "I love you and I need you to remember that. Everything I've done and everything I will ever do is for you."

There was something in her eyes and her voice that made Edward's heart pick up. It was as if she were saying goodbye.

"What's going on?" he asked with a sense of fear and panic, but neither woman answered him.

She stepped back and Edward watched, speechless, as Maggie put her palms together and then drew them apart, a bright yellow light manifesting itself between them. She threw her hands towards the wall and the light went flying, latching onto the brickwork before expanding and morphing into an arch.

"What's that?" Edward asked.

"A portal. You need to go through and you need to go through now."

"But Mom—"

"I love you," Esme told him a final time, her voice resolute. She stepped away from him and nodded at Maggie.

Maggie handed her something; it looked like a small vial and they shared a look. Marching over to him, Maggie grabbed his hand.

Edward shook her off. "No!" He turned to his mom. "Mom—please, I don't understand!"

"You will," she reassured him.

Before he could protest and argue and demand to be told exactly what was going on, his Aunt Maggie grabbed his hand and with more force than he thought she could muster, she dragged him into the bright yellow light, Edward's eyes on his mother the entire time, words and questions stuck in his throat.

The last thing he saw was her looking at him as a tear dropped down her face.

Well, this is it! The first chapter of this story. A huge thank you to my wonderful beta monica03, who has been absolutely wonderful these last few months.

This story will be updated every Monday with teasers going out on Thursdays. Teasers can be found on my Facebook page, Tumblr and Blog (if you just search Princess Treacle you should find me). Feel free to add me on Facebook!

Here's to a better 2021!