Chapter Four: Cristian Balescu

Over four years ago

Balescu Residence, Mystic Falls, VA

Cristian's Victorian-style home was like a witches' architectural cliché. Paint it black and stick it on a hill and it would have the neighborhood kids avoiding the place while trick-or-treating on Halloween. Thankfully, it was less intimidating than that.

To start, the house was on the corner of two streets without a slope in sight. It was painted an icy slate blue and had a stone trim and white sash windows. Practically every house in the town had white sash windows – it would stand out like a sore thumb if it didn't. Above the main entrance, front and center, was a two-story turret with a concave Mansard roof. That's the feature that made it look really gothic. Except there was nothing gothic about the two rooms that comprised the length of the turret. Others might have expected it to be a stairway, or walk-in closets, or – if they knew witches resided there – small rooms to conduct rituals or seances. No such thing. They were en suite bathrooms. There was nothing supernatural about taking a dump.

Cristian's family exclusively drove Dacia SUVs or BMWs. Cristian's was a Dacia. Even after the import costs, it still worked out cheaper than a BMW equivalent. Not that the cost mattered. His grandfather had worked for the manufacturer back in Romania, so, after he died, his dad had one imported over for personal reasons. The reason being that he hated his father and intended to have the car crushed with his father's ashes inside it. He ended up keeping the car and flushing his ashes down the toilet instead. For him, the Dacia was a reminder of that happy time, so that's how the tradition started.

The entire day had been spent with Stef, which meant Cristian had missed something his father considered to be important. It was not important. It was the same shit every week, and it wasn't like he hadn't skipped it before. But every time he knew he'd done something to piss off his father, he took a few minutes to figure out just how pissed he'd be.

So that's what he was doing now: sitting in the car, outside the house, scoring the severity of the repercussions ahead of him. He had a scale from one to ten. 'Ten' meant he was a dead man. He'd never actually scored anything at 'one' before, since his dad behaved like he was on that number by default. Skipping his lessons today was probably a 'three'. Maybe a 'four' on a bad day.

He could handle that.

So, Cristian got out of the car and walked up to the front door, letting himself inside.

It would have been ideal if the staircase had been situated at the front of the house, instead of the back. He used to have a key that allowed him to sneak through the back door at times like these, but that was taken away from him months ago. So now he had no way to avoid his father as he walked through the hallway, past the living area.

"You're late," came his father's stern voice. He was sitting by the fireplace in a high-back armchair opposite the arched doorway, and he spoke without raising his head from the book he was reading.

Cristian stopped in his tracks, turning to face the room's occupants: Dimitri, Winifred, and Ava. Father, stepmother, and stepsister. The first looked angry, the second looked disappointed, and the third looked worried. That was to be expected. "I lost track of time."

"You're five hours late."

Cristian sighed. "So, I lost track of a lot of time."

Dimitri lifted his head, his eyes burning into him, quietly considering his next step. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth – a knowing twitch of amusement. Then he slowly returned back to his book, uttering, "Go to your room."

Wait...what? That was it?

The four words rattled Cristian more than they should have. He waited for a moment, trying to figure out the catch. On the mood scale of 'disgruntled' to 'murderous', that was a solid 'one'. There had to be a catch. And, whatever the catch was, it had to be in his bedroom.

Cristian ran up the stairs, turning to the right when he reached the top. His bedroom was at the back of the house, his door opposite Ava's. As he approached it, he was expecting his room to be trashed. Likely, his father chucked out some of his belongings, not that he kept anything sentimental or irreplaceable anymore.

He opened his bedroom door and, for a split second, his eyebrows lowered. Everything was in order... what the hell could he have possibly...

As Cristian stepped inside, he felt a force push him back into the hallway.

He put his hands out, touching the invisible barrier that prevented him from entering his room.

Now he understood.

He rushed back downstairs, passing Ava on the steps as she headed up to her bedroom. He paused, bringing her to a stop by taking hold of her arm.

"I'm not undoing the spell for you, Cristian," she said instantly, anticipating his request. "You should have been here for the lesson."

"I was busy doing something," he defended.

"Something?" Ava narrowed her dark eyes and cocked her head disapprovingly. "Or someone?"

Someone? Shit! His jaw tensed and he released Ava's arm and sped down the stairs. How much had his father found out?

He darted into the living area only to discover that it had been vacated. He turned and hurried into the opposite room. Winifred was stacking two grimoires onto the dining room table in front of Dimitri, who stood at the head of the table.

"Your father wants you to spend the night catching up on what you missed," Winifred explained. "You can find the spell to unlock your room in here." She patted the top grimoire. "Once you've mastered it, you'll have your room back."

Cristian didn't give two shits about that. His eyes shot to his father. "You had me followed!" he accused.

"I had you located," Dimitri corrected him, rounding the table towards him. "I then had someone check who you were located with."

Cristian's chest tightened with concern. He knew!

He quickly reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He searched through the contacts for the number Stef had given him before they parted, and typed her a message.

Cristian: Are you okay?

He managed to hit the send button just as his father snatched the phone from out of his hand. Normally, he would have allowed it to happen. It was a pretty standard punishment for teenagers to get their phones taken away, and Cristian kept a spare phone hidden in his room for exactly this reason. Hell, he had a spare phone in his car right now – the brand new one Stef had refused.

But neither of them contained Stef's number.

So, Cristian reached out and grabbed his father by the wrist, his other hand urgently digging at his fingers, trying to get the phone back. He had to know that she was okay. His father knew who he'd been with – knew his weakness now – what if he'd done something to her? What if this was his punishment? Fuck the scale – this would be off the scale!

The phone was almost back in his hand. He was close... it was...

Gone.

Vanished into thin air.

Fuck!

Cristian released his father and screamed with infuriation into his fist, pinching his eyes closed. He should have known there was a reason he wasn't fighting back.

But that moment of passivity was over.

The moment he opened his eyes and dropped his hand, the back of Dimitri's own cracked hard across his face. Cristian stumbled sideways with the force, but he quickly regained his balance. When he was younger, those hits used to floor him, but not now he was taller, broader, and more prepared for them. It was the emotional damage that hurt most as a child. As a young man, Cristian wasn't sure there was much emotion left to beat out of him.

"Dimitri!" Winifred snapped.

Turning his head to the side to respond, Dimitri's tone was eerily light. "Darling, if my son expects me not to lay hands on him, he'd do well to remember not to do the same to me."

In different circumstances, Cristian would have laughed at that response. Since when was that a prerequisite for hitting him? He pushed his chin-length hair away from his face and straightened his back. "Where is it?"

Dimitri faced forward, a sadistic smile peeking from his lips. "Where is it?" he questioned. "Or, where is she?"

Cristian held his breath at the terrifying insinuation. He changed to the question he clearly needed to ask. "Where is she?" he growled, his hands balling into fists.

A buzz broke the tense silence between them, and Dimitri stepped aside to reveal the phone on the table behind him. "I expect she is at home, waiting for your reply."

This was exactly how his father worked: mind games like these. Making him fear the worst and then flooding him with relief. Or the tactic Cristian most dreaded: reassuring him before tearing his life apart. It wasn't uncommon to have one after the other. So, sensing it wasn't over yet, Cristian launched himself at the table, grabbing at the phone.

Then his head dropped forward defeatedly, his palms slapping flat upon the table, the phone remaining exactly where Dimitri had put it. Stef's unread notification stared back at him.

Dimitri patted his son's shoulder in mock sympathy before making his way back around the table, towards the grimoires. "You'll also find a tangibility spell in these, which I'm sure you'll master by the time the night's over. In the meantime, the phone stays where it is."

The screen glowed again – a second message coming through from Stef. His thumb passed through the screen as he attempted to stroke across her name, remembering that only a few hours ago, he was stroking through her hair. If what his father said was true, she'd be safely at home wondering why he wasn't messaging her back. If his father was lying, she could be begging him for help. "Fine, you win," he seethed. "Just promise me she's okay."

Dimitri raised his eyebrows. "Okay?" Dimitri exclaimed. "Son, she's more than okay. She's the reason I haven't beaten you black and blue."

Cristian was instantly suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"Stefanie Salvatore is a witch."

How the hell did he find that out so quickly? "They're just rumors," Cristian mumbled.

"No, I saw it with my own eyes many years ago," Dimitri explained. "I don't think she remembers it. A connection with this family might do her memories some good. You should invite her to dinner."

Not happening. "I've just started seeing her," Cristian hissed fiercely through his teeth. He bobbed his head to the side, gesturing to his phone. "If I'm still seeing her, since you're forcing me to ignore her."

Dimitri nodded, appreciating his point. "In that case..." He walked past the grimoires, giving them a firm pat. "... you'd better get started. Judging by your display this evening, I suspect you're just as anxious not to lose her as I am."

Cristian closed his eyes in both relief and aggravation as his father left the room and went upstairs. He walked over to the grimoires, sat down, and started opening one. "I don't suppose you could direct me to the page that can unspell my phone?" he asked Winifred, who stood beside him.

"Certainly," she nodded. She flicked through the pages until she came across a blank one. "This is it. And when you've read the rest of the grimoire, the words will appear."

Cristian propped his elbows on the table, grasping at his hairline. The asshole had even spelled the spell he needed. "I don't suppose you could...?"

"No," Winifred said instantly. She pulled out a chair and sat down next to him. "Cristian, I waited hours for you to appear. Do you really expect me to stay up all night teaching you everything you missed?"

"I don't need everything," he complained. "Just this one spell."

"And, once you have it, the rest will be forgotten," Winifred pointed out. "You'll never catch up... you'll be behind next week... you'll anger your father further... and I will be stuck picking up the pieces."

Cristian flopped his arms down on the table and sighed heavily. She was right. "Haven't you ever been..." He didn't know how to word this. Winifred wasn't usually someone he confided in. He never confided in anyone. "... absolutely crazy about someone?"

She lowered her eyes in thought, a smile briefly passing her lips. "I have, in fact."

"So, then what went wrong?" Seeing Winifred's eyes fix coldly onto him for his presumptuousness, Cristian threw his hand out towards the direction his father left, and blurted defensively, "Oh, come on! It's sure as hell not my father you're crazy about. Unless you consider yourself crazy for being with him."

Winifred took a breath, stating calmly, "Your father is the type of man I'm used to... the type of man I feel I deserve... the type of man I can handle. But, more importantly, he's the type of man I can love without it being the type of love that could destroy me. I've already been through that once." She lowered her eyes in regret. "I couldn't go through that again."

Cristian had never heard her speak from the heart before. They sat in silence for a while, absorbing the moment together, before Cristian realized something. "Winifred?"

She raised her eyes at him.

Cristian poured all the sincerity he had into his own eyes. She had to know this was the truth. He had to make her understand. "I don't know Stefanie Salvatore that well... but I already know that she's going to be the type of love that could destroy me. Please... don't let me lose her."

Winifred's head sunk to the side, and she huffed through her nose, torn between her principles and his heartfelt words. "You're a little shit, you know that, right?"

Cristian's face spread into the first smile he emitted since he walked through the door. "So, you're going to help me?"

"No," Winifred stated, standing from her chair. She reached across Cristian – who was already slumping in his chair in despair – and flicked through the grimoire, finally stopping on a page. "But I'm also not going to tell you that a spell you need is on this particular page." She tapped her finger against the title: Nuntius per Murum. "Useful if you know where she lives."

Cristian read the title, and his eyes lit up. He grabbed the grimoire and raced towards the door.

"Get back here, you little shit, and take both of them!" Winifred grouched. Watching him reluctantly return to grab the other grimoire, she added, "Don't pretend you've got anything better to do tonight than revise them, Romeo. I'll be testing you tomorrow."

"A hundred percent!" Cristian declared, carrying both books out the front door.

"That had better be your damn grade!" she called back to him, right before the door closed.

Cristian threw the grimoires into the passenger seat as he started the car and began driving towards Stef's house. As he drove, he reached into his glove compartment and pulled out one of the many throwaway SIM cards he kept in there. Thank fuck Stef never kept the phone.

It took him less than five minutes to reach her house. He pulled up across the street, not knowing what to do first.

Breathe. He needed to breathe first.

The second thing he did was reach over to the back seat and grab the new phone from the gift bag. His hands shook with nerves as he entered the new SIM into the phone and spent an infuriatingly long time going through the setup process.

He looked up at her bedroom. The light was still on. And, yes, he knew which one was her bedroom. It wasn't the first time he'd parked his car here. He was surprised the neighbors hadn't called the police on him yet. The only thing he didn't know was what time she went to sleep. It was getting late, and he couldn't miss this opportunity.

The phone now set up, he went back into the bag and took out the copy of Dracula. He located a blank page at the back of the first chapter and tore it out.

Pen... pen... pen... he needed a fucking pen.

Glove compartment again. Got one.

He wrote down a short message, his new number, and his name.

Okay... with everything prepared, this was the moment he had to concentrate.

He opened up the grimoire and began rehearsing the spell until he knew it line by line, forwards and backwards. Finally, he scrunched the message into a paper ball, held it tightly in his hand, and repeated the words off by heart, willing it to work. When he felt the paper expand and then tighten again, he knew the spell was successful.

He stepped out of the car and headed over to her house.

Stopping in front of her window, he made a few practice motions with his arm until he felt he had the swing right. He had to have it perfect. The last thing he wanted was for the ball to be pitched into the downstairs room with the risk of her parents finding it.

Finally ready, he hurled the ball of paper into the air, with perfect direction towards the wall of her bedroom...

...and then the fucking wind blew it onto the neighbor's front porch.

He let out a huff and returned to his car. No time to retrieve it. He could look forward to that awkward phone call tomorrow.

He tore out another page from the book, scribbled another message – his handwriting far more hurried than it was the first time – and then opened up the bag of marbles. He wrapped the message around three of the marbles, repeated the spell, and headed back to the house.

Her light had gone out.

Shit!

This time, the paper was either phasing through the wall or smashing through her damn window, but, either way, the wind wasn't getting it because he was running out of time.

He took the same stance... aimed... and threw.

The message disappeared through the wall.

The fist pump came naturally.

He ran back to the car, got into the driver's seat, and stared at the new phone like a man obsessed.

Fuck it, he was obsessed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stef's light come back on. He turned his head to see her shadowed figure peek between the curtains. Then she closed them again. Between this and stalking her in the cemetery earlier, he wasn't even sure if she was going to respond. But at least she wouldn't think he was ignoring her.

Suddenly, the screen lit up and a message came through.

Unknown: So much for not turning up at my house. Why did your dad take your phone?

Cristian grinned from ear to ear, quickly saved the number, then typed out a reply.

Cristian: I spent the day with the girl of my dreams instead of doing

Spells? Nope.

Cristian: chores.

Stef: I see. Here's another question. How exactly did your message appear through my wall like that?

Oh shit! He'd been so excited about the prospect of contacting her that he had not thought this part through.

As he scrambled for an answer, another message popped up.

Stef: The marbles hit and broke my photo frame, by the way, so I'll be accepting that new one now. Unless you know a spell to repair it.

Cristian blew air through his lips. His cover was blown. But, on the bright side, at least it wasn't going to be difficult to explain this to her.

Stef: Since you seem to know enough about me, I think it's time you told me the truth about you.