A Circle Of Wolves
Chapter 6: Family Secrets
I stepped outside and onto the porch when I heard the vehicles approach. A black Tahoe was followed by a Ford F150, a Kia Soul, and a Dodge Ranger. Four guys and two girls stepped out of them, faces I recognized from school but didn't know the names associated to them, except for Justin.
"Hey, Cuz" called a strawberry blonde guy with a big smile and dark green eyes, waving as he approached, "I'm David," he smiled, slapping me on the shoulder, "David Stillwater. It's nice to finally meet you." I recognized the name from the family tree at the top of the landing. In fact, I recognized all their surnames from the elaborately designed tree.
There was Melody Sewell, a brown haired, brown eyed beauty with hair falling to her waist. She glanced around her surrounding as if she had just awakened from a coma and was seeing the world for the first time in a very long time. "There's a lot happening here," she told the others.
"I can feel it." Commented Holt Wardwell, a short, baby-faced guy with straight light brown hair and a faint peach fuzz moustache who looked to be the youngest of them at maybe thirteen or fourteen, but was actually older than us all, but only by a few months. He was wearing a blue hoodie, and he kept his hands in the pockets, stretching the cotton material. He looked to be very uncomfortable, keeping his distance from the others whenever possible.
Junius Blackwell, as tall and thin as I was, had hair as black as Bethany's and Max's, and shady dark eyes. Dressed in all black, he kind of looked like the male version of Bethany. He stood in the yard and stared at the house for a couple of minutes, then at me for a minute longer. The others stepped at the porch, then waited, looking back at him. He nodded and they began filing into the house uninvited.
Allison Sprouse, Louvenia's Black haired, crystal blue eyed granddaughter was escorted by Justin, draping an arm over her shoulders before heading toward the house. It was obviously they were a couple, and very affectionate toward each other. The sight of them made me miss Bethany's presence in my life.
A motorcycle sped down the road and into the yard with a shirtless Cooper riding it. The others looked at Cooper and didn't hide their disdain for the boy.
"What's he doing here?" Junius grunted.
"He's the one who figured out that Jesse is a potential threat," Justin told him light heartedly, "I said he could join us briefly if his dad gave him the greenlight."
"Leave him be," Melody told them all, her voice soft as a creek, but clear as a church bell.
"How is it that he doesn't know to keep his mouth shut?" Holt asked, entering the house with hesitation, "He's too old for his heritage to have not gone unnoticed by now, even if no one told him."
"That's what we're to here determine," David said, laughing. "I swear, sometimes I wonder if you're not a changeling."
Justin took me by the shoulders and sat me on the antique couch in the living room, then he motioned to Holt, who groaned and shuffled over to sit next to me.
"Take my hand," Holt said, refusing to look at me as he pulled one hand from the stretched pocket of his hoodie. I looked at the others hesitantly. They just watched silently. I took his hand, feeling the way I did when I held Bethany's hand at the movies during our first official date.
He looked at me, as if startled by something.
"I'm so sorry, man," he told me.
He didn't need to say anymore. I just nodded and tried to keep from crying when the emotions I felt over my mother's death washed over me so powerfully that I thought I might black out. What followed was a weird sensation of what I could only describe as someone rummaging around in my mind, stirring up random emotions like dust on an attic floor. I almost pulled my hand away when sex with Bethany flashed across my mind, but Holt held firm.
"He really doesn't know anything," Holt said, "But he has met his familiar." He looked at me. "That's what Crow is, a familiar spirit. Not an imaginary friend." He looked at the others. "What do you want to know?"
"He saw my eye glow," Cooper told him, "Let's get that out of the way so I can leave and let you get to doing whatever the fuck it is you people do together." He said his words like he was spitting venom.
"There's a Lowell in his life... but he's a stepfather." He looked at me again. "If there's a blood connection, he doesn't know anything about it. I think it's just a gift he has. There's a connection to your cousin Max that might explain it. They're connected through the red thread."
I didn't know what Holt was doing, or how he was doing it, but I was beginning to enjoy holding his hand. He smiled at me and gave me a wink, which completely embarrassed me.
"I can confirm that," Allison told the group, "My grandmother saw it when Max and Jesse were in the same room together a few days ago. She was excited to see it because there hasn't been a red thread connection in generations."
"The red thread?" I asked quietly, suddenly remembering Louvenia saying something about it.
"It's a spiritual connection," Cooper told me, "It's rare, but it happens. You probably feel like you've known each other forever. It's that kind of mystical bond, like soul mates, only the red thread is an actual thing and not just to people who really vibe well together." He didn't like what he was saying, looking almost embarrassed by the discussion. "It's not an imprint." He walked out of the house in a huff shortly after.
"It's not just the red thread," Holt said after Cooper's motorcycle sped away, "There is a blood connection, but I didn't think it was wise to tell you that while he was present. He, and his people probably should know, but taboo is taboo, and the Lowells aren't known for keeping a level head. We might consider telling Max, only because the red thread connection would prevent him from betraying Jesse's safety."
"Good thinking," David said, "Can't let anything happen to our cousin. We just met."
Melody sat, sitting on the other side of me, careful not to sit on her hair, "That should be something we keep in strict confidence, at least for now. The fewer people who know about it, the better it will be for everyone, but I do agree about Max."
She took my other hand. He small thin hand nearly disappearing in mine.
"His power is barely noticeable," she said, looking at me, "Even touching him, I can barely feel it."
"But he has used it," Holt interjected.
"I'm guessing you don't even know about the Power?" She asked sweetly. I shook my head no.
"His mother hid it from him," Holt told her, "His mother hid everything from him."
"It's there, just..." Melody whispered, "Wow." She looked at me, as if surprised. "He's more powerful than the rest of us combined."
"What?" David asked, intrigued.
"I think he's an elemental witch," she told him, "I can't be sure because his power is being suppressed somehow, which is condensing it. I can't really tell what kind of witch he is."
"Binding spell?" Justin asked, looking at Allison, "Is that kind of thing possible? I mean, to prevent a witch from using the Power?"
"It's called folding the web," Allison answered, "It's very a powerful binding spell, the kind that is only used to punish witches, and even then, it hasn't been used by the coven in decades. It would require something tragic to break the spell, or `unfold' the web."
"How tragic?" Holt asked, "He's already lost his mother, and he found the body. It's been a shit storm ever since."
"I mean, it would take nearly killing him to break that kind of binding. There may be moments when the power could be used, but nothing he'd be able to control. The Power itself would protect him from any magical harm, to be sure, but beyond that, he's pretty much just like anyone else at school."
"That makes him dangerous to us all," Junius spoke up, "Not just to the others in our community, but there's also the taboo aspect of it. It would have been better if our little buddy here had been the one who was killed, and not his mother. At least she kept her shit to herself."
"That's enough of that," David told him, "He's blood, and blood covers blood, no matter the complications. We're just going to have to figure it out."
"I could talk to my grandmother about possible ways to unfold the web," Allison chimed in, "She's already aware of the red thread. Maybe there's a way to use his connection to Max to force the web open."
"And I'll look into the lore," Melody added, "I'm sure there's something in my family's journals about the red thread."
"Uh, guys, there's something else," Holt told them, "There's some evidence that both Sewilla's and Jesse's mother's deaths are connected. Someone may be killing witches."
"We don't know that," Junius huffed, "For all we know the murders were retaliation for the taboo and has nothing to do with any of the rest of us."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. My mind was spinning. Witches? Red threads? Taboos? I had an odd sense that Melody was somehow keeping me calm. Her hand was warmer than Holt's I and felt that warmth moving through my body, my cock half erect because of it.
"What is this taboo you keep mentioning?" I finally asked, choosing a random place to start. I sort of understood the red thread now, and I knew a little about witches through Bethany, though I was fairly certain she didn't know about this kind of thing. This was on another level weird, even for her.
"It's taboo for any of the circle to mate with a Lowell," Junius told me, "It's not your fault. You weren't the one who chose to mix bloodlines."
"They're hardly mixed," Melody retorted, "If you go far enough back in any of our bloodlines, you'll find Lowell blood."
"Yeah, before the curse," Junius commented, "Nothing after the curse."
"What curse?" I asked, trying to make sense of what they were saying, all of it worded in a way that I might have understood if I knew more.
"Oh, shit, you're right," Junius said as he walked up and squatted in front of me, "We all descend from a long line of blood witches. Hereditary witches. In the old days, about five hundred years ago, The Lowells were a part of the coven. One of their ancestors, however, became interested in shapeshifting, and he preferred the shape of a wolf. He practiced it often, sometimes going days before shifting back again. The longer he was a wolf, the less human he became.
"Then on the night of a full moon, after he had been a wolf for some time, he came upon the coven meeting to celebrate the lunar rites. The wolf attacked and killed everyone in the coven. When it was found out, the surviving relatives cursed the man responsible. The intention was to just curse him to live the remainder of his days as a wolf, but the end result was a curse that extended to his children, making them Rougarou.
"It has been forbidden for a witch to have children with a Rougarou ever since, for fear of the entire coven becoming cursed."
"Rougarou?" I asked, realizing something that may be a deeper family secret. I looked at Holt, knowing he was probably reviewing my thoughts. He gave me a sad smile, then discreetly released my hand.
"Rougarou," Junius said, as if reciting memorized information, "A Cajun corruption of the French loup-garou. It means werewolf."
The Lowells are werewolves? Max? Seth? My mind flashed to Seth's hot temper and short fuse. He practiced meditation regularly on the patio in the backyard to try to maintain control. He was usually pretty levelheaded, but sometimes it just got the better of him. The red glowing eyes suddenly made sense.
"Only that isn't what happened," Holt said, "He hasn't imprinted on anyone, and I didn't see any evidence of his transforming."
"He just might not remember," Melody told him, "Remember, the wolf is a creature separate from the man, with its own motives and objectives. I can sense Jesse's wolf. It's there, even if it hasn't made an appearance. It could be that the binding spell may be holding it back."
"Which is probably why his web was folded in the first place," Justin said thoughtfully, "It's easy to learn to not use the Power, but not as easy to control a supernatural beast that literally rips your body apart to be released into the world. I've seen the transformation. It's a terrifying thing to watch."
"So, maybe it isn't wise to unfold his web," Allison interjected, "If he's never shifted, and he hasn't imprinted, it could be all sorts of fucked up if his wolf is released. We don't know enough about how the Lowells maintain their secret to be sure of anything"
"We have enough on our plate with the missing kids at school," Junius said after a long moment of silence, a silence he spent looking directly at me, looking into my eyes like he was searching something. "We can at least be sure Jesse has nothing to do with that. The disappearances began before he arrived, even before Sewilla was killed. Has anyone picked up any new clues?"
"Nothing," Justin told him, "According to what John Luke told me, his father has no idea what's going on. They're just disappearing without a trace."
"Some Witchfinder General he's turned out to be," Junius smirked as he rose to his feet and began to pace the floor.
"Witchfinder General?" I asked, certain I knew that term from somewhere.
"The Witchfinder General is the leader of an Order of witch hunters," Junius told me as he paced, "They hunt other supernatural beings as well, maintaining order in the world, but they began as witch hunters. Circle Oak is a neutral territory, and there are treaties in place to prevent them from coming after us, provided we don't use the Power for evil intent, and we don't violate the mutually agreed upon laws, which are known as taboos." He stopped and looked at me with sympathy. "It's possible that the Order killed your grandmother and mother because of your birth."
"And John Luke's father is one of them?" My blood ran cold with the idea that my new lover's father may be responsible for my mother's death."
"Not just him," Melody told me, giving my hand a little squeeze, "The entire police department, with the exception of Max, is part of the Order, and their sons, including John Luke, are in training to fill their shoes."
"Oh," I sighed with despair, remembering what transpired with John Luke the previous night.
The others continued discussing the disappearance of the kids at school, floating their own theories, much of it subjects I knew nothing about. I decided to make myself useful and passed out root beer and chips. Holt approached me before they all left, taking me quietly aside, but taking care not to touch me again.
"Don't freak out about John Luke," he told me, "He might just be into you and not up to something else that may be more nefarious. Use the knowledge you now have to be vigilant and cautious, but don't let it stop you from exploring. You can confide in me on this subject, because I already know, but don't mention your being anything more than friends with him to the others. It isn't taboo, but you're already a complication, and no one wants John Luke telling his father that your very existence is taboo." He gave me a slight tap on the arm and headed out to catch up with the others. "We'll figure this out," He called back to me with a turn that had him briefly walking backward, "Don't worry about it."
I walked back into the house, startled to see Crow standing in front of me. I wondered if he heard everything, then realized he probably knew it all before my first conversation with Cooper on the football field. He probably knew more than my new group of friends did.
I need to show you something, he signed.
Walking from the foyer, through the living room and into the library/office, he pointed to a high shelf among the oak shelves that completely lined the room from floor to ceiling, save a space behind the big ornamental desk where there was a frosted window. Sliding the rail mounted ladder to the shelf, I climbed it and pulled an old leatherbound book from the shelf. Being a handmade looking book, it had no title, so I opened it and read what was scrawled on the first page in elegant handwriting:
The Journal of Jessica Cowan (1894- 1949)
"What is this?" I asked, looking down at Crow.
Those are your family's journals, he signed, Collectively, they contain the sum total of your family's knowledge concerning magic and associated lore. You have a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you start now.
I looked at the books lining the self, counting twenty-eight, then looked back down. Crow was gone. Carefully, I took some of the books from the shelf and descended the ladder, then climbed up again to retrieve more. After five trips up and down the ladder, I sat on the hard wood floor and started opening the books, just flipping through the handwritten pages, stopping occasionally to look at the carefully drawn and inked illustrations. Well, the mystery of where my talent for drawing was finally solved.
Please help support Nifty with a donation. http://donate.nifty.org/