Wicked Casters

Disclaimer: I do not own twilight.

Chapter 17: Meeting the family…

Ginger's POV

After Eleanor and Zelena left for the hospital, Edward picked me up and left the cabin the following day. We were taking the Wagoneer. I was a bit nervous. Not the type of girl you would introduce to your parents. Especially a tomboy chick with dyed red hair, wearing punk attire. I managed to minimize the accessories, as I wore a pair of dark skinny jeans, a blouse, and converse.

"You look fine," Edward assured.

"Easier said than done," I muttered.

Edward chuckled as he opened the passenger door for me. I said thanks before sitting inside. Edward was in the driver's seat in a blink of an eye. He stopped to stare at the two charms: tiger's eye and Middle Eastern evil eye. There was something about us witches taking protection charms seriously. The evil eye is supposed to protect us from evil, but what type of evil? I shall never know. As for the tiger's eyes, that is another story. A Tigers eye is supposed to bring luck and protection to a person, if not bring a clearing mind and insight.

Anyway, Edward started the engine driving to his house. The drive was long through the misty forest until he abruptly turned into a private road. It was unpaved, therefore, a bit bumpy. Meanwhile, the forest engrossed both sides of the road, leaving the area an illusion of never-ending green. And then we were suddenly in a small meadow or some sort of lawn. I didn't expect what type of home the Cullens lived in. But this was something I didn't anticipate.

It was somewhat disappointing that he doesn't live in a castle. The house was large, rectangular, if not well proportioned, and mostly made of wood and glass. This place must have been built a hundred years ago and then renovated to look more modern. Edward parked the car, got out, and quickly ran around to open my door at his vampire speed.

"Nice house," I complimented.

"You like it?" Edward asked, wrapping an arm around me.

"It . . . holds character," I said.

"Really?"

I nodded as he opened the door, letting us in. Inside, the place appeared clean. Not a single speck of dirt or cobweb. I started to remove my jacket, which Edward helped.

"It's so bright and open," I noted.

"What did you expect, coffins and dungeons and moats?" he murmured.

"Yeah," I teased. "Except the moats."

"Not the moats," he chuckled as we went upstairs, but he stopped. "This is the one place we don't have to hide."

I nodded until spotting some sort of artwork made out of graduation caps. Edward chuckled once more, stating, "It's a private joke. We matriculate a lot." It must suck to go to high school for all eternity. But Edward assured the younger they start out in a new place, the longer they could stay. I asked him what the youngest vampire there is from a physical standpoint. A grim expression covered his face as he answered fifteen. With nothing else to say, we continue up towards the main floor.

On the main floor, it seemed empty until Edward patted my shoulder. Before I could ask what was going on, two people suddenly appeared in the room. One of them was Dr. Cullen, and I assumed the female companion was his lovely wife, Esme. She had the same traits as the others, pale skin and golden eyes. Still, her unique features were another beauty from her heart-shaped face, soft-wavy caramel hair, and a body of adopted curves than Alice or Rosalie. She projected a motherly vibe, to which I can guess she was once a mother in her human life or at least bore a child.

"Carlisle, Esme, this is Ginger," Edward said, introducing me to his surrogate parents.

"Long time no see, Dr. Cullen," I said.

"Please, call me Carlisle." Dr. Cullen insisted.

"It's very nice to meet you," Esme said, offering a hand.

"Thanks, it's nice to meet you too," I replied, shaking her cold hand.

"Hey Edward!" a chimed voice cheered.

Alice Cullen entered the house, climbing on top of a tree branch. More like a walk on it with ease with Jasper in pursuit. She came fourth at vampiric speed, giving me an unexpected hug. "Hi, Ginger! You do smell good. I never noticed before."

"Alice, what are you–" Edward started.

"It's okay," Alice interrupted. "Ginger and I are gonna be great friends."

Jasper nodded. His appearance seems a bit tense, almost like he was being choked. Jessica wasn't kidding when she said he looks like he is in pain all the time.

"Sorry, Jasper's our newest vegetarian." Carlisle apologized. "It's a little difficult for him."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Jasper choked out.

"It's okay, Jasper. You won't hurt her." Alice told him.

The only people absent in this greeting were Rosalie and Emmett. Rosalie would glare at me time and again during school while Emmett . . . I'm not entirely sure. Neither of them was nowhere to be seen. But the others were generous enough to greet me with such kindness. I wonder if Edward told them I was a witch, which could have made the transition easier. Speaking of Edward, he seemed a bit irritated or embarrassed like any sibling/child under the influence of family curiosity.

"All right, I'm gonna take you on a tour of the rest of the house." He changed the subject.

"Okay," I chuckled.

"Well, I'll see you soon." Alice smiled.

I nodded and then followed Edward as we went upstairs.

"Was that as weird for you as it was for me?" Edward asked once out of hearing.

"A little," I murmured. "But it was better than meeting my coven."

"I can understand why Eleanor and Zelena would act so spiteful towards me after the history of anguish between my kind and yours." He spoke. "So, you know my family likes you."

"Except for Rosalie and Emmett." I countered.

"Don't worry about Rosalie. She'll come around." He assured me. "And Emmett doesn't have a problem with you. He's trying to reason with Rosalie."

"How so?" I asked.

"Rosalie struggles the most with . . . with what we are. It's hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth." He explained. "And she's a little jealous."

"Jealous?" I repeated. "Of Moi?"

"You're human. She wishes that she were, too." He said.

I nodded, feeling slightly guilty. From all the folklore I know about vampires, the female counterpart doesn't have it as easy as males. The cliché of falling in love, having a family, and bearing children. Now living who knows how many decades the same age . . . frozen in time. Suddenly my eyes made contact with an old wooden cross surrounded by candles and other religious relics.

A crucifix? I thought, confused.

A dark memory from my last Foster Home before Quentin Fleming found me. How the parents were religious and zealous. Everywhere in the house was a crucifix. I thought I could avoid this sigil, despite the actual purpose. There, I felt I was suffocating, on edge, and drawing all simultaneously because of those wooden relics. But I associated it with that horrible family who abused me far worse than any home. It made me an atheist before discovering I was a witch. Wondering why God would condemn me and separate me from my mother.

"You can laugh." Edward chuckled. "It is sort of ironic."

"How old is it?" I asked, reaching out to touch it. However, the moment my fingers made contact, a slight electrical jolt shot through. As if shocked by electricity from a small outlet. I masked my pain quickly so Edward didn't notice. I forgot Casters are rejected by Christianity . . . or at least the catholic faith to a point all holy relics and holy ground were unbearable.

"Early sixteen-thirties, more or less," Edward answered. "Nostalgia. It belonged to Carlisle's father."

"Family heirloom?" I guessed.

"No…" he answered. "He carved this himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached."

"Seriously?" I gawked. "How old is he?"

"He just celebrated his three hundred and sixty-second birthday." He answered, opening the door to a Victorian-inspired office. "Come on, I'll show you some of our family histories. Well, Carlisle's history, actually."

I nodded, taking Edwards's hand as we went into the office. Inside smelled like wood, oils, and medicine. The office was a high ceiling room with tall windows. The walls are paneled in dark woods while covered by a towering bookshelf filled with books throughout the ages. Along with the rich wood furniture, plush chairs, and elaborate curtains. One side of the four walls covered portraits and paintings throughout three centuries. Some were oiled, others basic paints.

"Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn't marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell's rule, though. He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. As the Protestants came into power, he was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholics and other religions. He also… believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for . . . witches, werewolves . . . and vampires. They burned a lot of innocent people – of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch." Edward started, hesitant about the witch hunts. I cringed when he mentioned witches, the imaginary screams of women, children, and men, cries of agony of utter pain while being burned at the stake.

"When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. So he actually… discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. The people gathered their pitchforks and torches, of course, and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually… one emerged." His voice became hushed. "He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle, he was twenty-three and very fast – was in the lead of pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle thinks he was too hungry, so he… turned and attacked."

Edward paused, holding back the gruesome details of the vampire's actions to those men and Carlisle. I could only imagine the humanoid beast lunging at Carlisle with inhuman force, pinning him to the ground and rapidly biting his neck. The same fate to those other three men, dying by your life force of blood sucked away each second.

"Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned – anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away through an alley while the mob followed the fiend before his next victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It's a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered. And when it was over . . . Carlisle realized what he had become. He rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself… but that's not easily done. He jumped from the great heights, he tried to drown himself in the ocean . . . but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing he was able to resist … feeding … while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then. It takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation.

"But that wasn't possible. So he grew very hungry, and eventually weak. He strayed as far as he could from the human populace, recognizing that his willpower was weakening, too. For months he wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing himself. Then, one night - a herd of deer passed his hiding place. He was so wild with thirst that he attacked without a thought. His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life?

"Over the next months, his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again. He began to make better use of his time. He'd always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now he had unlimited time before him. He studied by night, planned by day. He went to France and continued on through Europe to the universities there.

"By night he studied… music, science, and medicine - and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives. I can't adequately describe the struggle. It took Carlisle two centuries of torture effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital…."

"Damn, I have to give the guy credit," I murmured.

As Edward told me stories pointing at each painting representing the leader's timeline. Soon my eyes made contact with four men dressed as Greek gods. The sight of three of the four sent shivers down my spine. I've seen this painting before, or at least similar to this one without Carlisle. Cordelia mentions that there are worse things to fear than a Supreme, the Council, or the Order. But these men, The Volturi. Edward saw my hesitation when I gazed at the portrait.

"Carlisle was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London Sewers." Edward said, touching the frame of the portrait and chuckling. "Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods. Aro, Marcus, Caius. Nighttime patrons of the arts."

"And every witch and warlock's worst enemy," I muttered spitefully, remembering what Cordelia and Zelena told me about what the Volturi did to our kind. Forcing a Caster to be a vampire in order to possess unimaginable power. However, barely any would keep their gifts . . . others suffered the empty spiritual loss to the earth. A hollow shell filled with blood lust.

Edward noted this as he assured me they remain in Italy. "Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them... At that point, Carlisle decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see… He didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales… he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he were one of them."

And that is when Edward started explaining how he and Carlisle came to be. Edward was open-minded as he told me his personal story in precise detail. "But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn't risk familiarity. The year was 1918. When the Spanish influenza epidemic hit…he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years…and he had almost decided to act. Since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one. He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation had occurred, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen.

"It was in that time frame of mind that he found me. I was seventeen, and dying of the influenza. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He has nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. And so he decided to try…I don't remember it well, but I do remember how it felt. It's not an easy thing, not something you could forget. For me, it was merely very, very painful. And for Carlisle…it must have been difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. I don't think you could find Carlisle's equal throughout all of history. And that's how we met…

"Carlisle acted from loneliness. That's usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carlisle's family…though he found Esme soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating."

When he got to the others, I was utterly surprised. I felt sorry for Esme in discovering she attempted to commit suicide after losing her unborn child and her previous husband's abandonment to the point she would jump off a cliff. Rosalie's tale got my blood boiling, for Carlisle found her raped and assaulted, practically left for dead on the streets till he changed her. Then chuckled slightly when Rosalie saved Emmett from being mauled by a bear, and that is how their love began.

Alice and Jasper were other stories, for they weren't created by Carlisle. No, they once belonged to another coven or were changed by a nomad. When it came to Alice's story, I felt sorry. How can a creator leave a newborn vampire in a dark cellar for years? The only thing that tamed her from going mad was her vision of Jasper and the Cullens. Jasper's story is something else. Edward wasn't full-on details, but he says Jaspers came from a coven that is all about violence. Only his ability to be an empath made the coven manage before he left.

After learning about the Cullens' history, Edward gave me a tour of his home. He pointed out each door to each room, stopping at one entrance. The door was open, revealing a room or some sort of a lounge. The room is more neutral and practically modern, with white walls and flooring. It is a very personal sanctuary, with books, music, clippings, and photos on shelves while an oversized leather couch is pressed against the wall. The room is light and bright; meanwhile, one wall was entirely a window, with wide-open French doors looking out over the trees.

"Yeah, this is my room," Edward murmured.

I walked in, surprised this could be a bedroom. For starters, the word bedroom starts with the word bed. And there is no bed. Unless he likes to sleep on the couch…or is it those futons/foldable beds? I took a quick glance only to see an ordinary black leather couch.

"No bed?" I asked.

"Uh, no, I don't. . . I don't sleep." He answered.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Not at all." He confirmed.

"Damn, that must drive you mad," I said, exploring his room. I walked over to his music shelf to see not twenty or thirty CDs like any average teenager would have. Nope, Edward Cullen has over a hundred CDs, all in a unique order. "Whoa, quite a music collection. So what were you listening to?"

I turn on the stereo and hear classical music.

"It's Debussy," Edward said about the artist.

I nodded as I listened to the soft piano music play almost like a lullaby. Edward walked over, taking my hand gently, forming us into a waltz. He started to take the lead, but I pulled back. This type of dance is not my cup of tea.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm more upbeat," I answered with a soft chuckle.

He inhaled sharply, "Well, I could always make you."

"I'm not scared of you." I snorted.

He chuckled, raising a brow followed by a mischievous smirk. He stepped back, getting into a crouching position, ready to pounce for his kill like some lion. "Well, you really shouldn't have said that."

"You wouldn't," I challenged.

In a blink, Edward pounced on me. More like his arms embraced me in full swish as I found myself pinned to the couch with him on top of me. I gasped from the boldness he did. As I stared up at him, utterly surprised.

"You were saying?" he murmured.

"You are very terrifying, Mr. Cullen," I grumbled.

"Much better," he murmured.

"Now, get off me?" I demanded softly.

Edward chuckled as he remained where he was, leaning forward, grazing his nose along my neck, breathing in my scent. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned up, lips a mere inch from my own. I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he sat up, giving us space.

I sat up, exhaling, relieved and disappointed. For a second, I thought he would kiss me for real. The rest of the day was spent in the main room as Edward played his piano. How he played was beautiful to the point I was falling for him more than I ever expected.

.o0o.

Eleanor's POV

I stared out the window, watching the blur of green trees go by. Just watching the scenery calmed my nerves into a meditative state.

Today was crazy at the hospital as Dr. Gendry removed my stitches and did another x-ray on my arm. I had to chant a spell to make the image seem like an almost healed wrist instead of a fully healed one. The x-ray surprised Dr. Gendry, for he had never seemed such a quick recovery before. Complimenting how lucky I am to be a rapid healer. So he removed the thin cast and changed it to a brace. Once that was out of the way and a prescription refill of unnecessary drugs, Zelena and I drove back home after a long day at the hospital.

"You all right?" Zelena asked.

"Just tired," I answered.

Zelena nodded, "With the amount of stress, I understand."

Stress. That is what I had been dealing with this past year. And the stress has turned into anxiety since coming to Forks. First, my Grandfather Horatio passed away, and how I found his body. The arrangements for his funeral. My parents attempt to get custody of me from the Council. Moving to Forks. Training under Zelena's guidance. Adjusting to being a coven sister. Encountering vampires. The accident in the parking lot. Ginger is friends with Edward. And let's not forget about Prom around the corner. How I don't have a panic attack, I shall never know.

"I worry about Ginger," I confessed. "She doesn't understand the danger she is waltzing into."

Zelena didn't say anything as she continued to drive. A Caster and a vampire never ends well despite how romantic it sounds. If Edward was a different kind of vampire, then maybe. However, Edward and the rest of his Coven are Cold Ones. The worst in the Vampiric Race. And if any of the Cold Ones dares bite Ginger and turn her into one of them…she will fall into damnation. A living vessel rejected from nature and the afterlife. A Caster can barely survive without being connected to mother earth.

I sighed, looking out the window, hoping the blurs of green would be meditating. I placed my fingers on the glass and manipulated the raindrops. Feeling the cleansing energy in the rain. In the water. It wasn't long before I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Dreams are something to never take for granted. They are like a vision to us when we hold no psychic abilities of a seer. Only riddles and clues which we have to depict if not translate. Lately, I have been having these dreams of a creature. As a russet color wolf came towards me, offering comfort and protection.

A part of me wonders if this wolf was my spirit animal or familiar. He does not speak to me. Yet those brown eyes held so many emotions that they were impossible to describe. As if I was the only thing that mattered to this wolf.

My guardian animal.

Hey, my fellow readers, sorry I haven't updated this story. I was on break when I got the inspiration for another story idea. Thanks to all who have waited.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!

Updated