AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I hate having to be so suspicious of each new person I meet, but living in the world I’ve found myself in, I don’t really have any other choice. At this point, suspicion is probably one of the few things keeping my head above water.
Rita has brought in a few basic spell ingredients for us to work with. “If we need anything else I can go back out to the RV and get it,” she says. “After our trip to the magic market the other day our cupboards are stocked to the gills.”
I ignore the urge to go out and have a root through said cupboards. Rita certainly keeps some crazy stuff in there.
At exactly one o’clock a knock sounds at the door. It sets my nerves on edge. I try to calm down, telling myself that even though Emilia is powerful, Rita and I should be able to take her on if worse comes to worse.
Rita motions for me to go let her in, while she takes a seat at the head of the kitchen table and clasps her palms together. She’s wearing even more black eye-liner than usual, and her lacy black dress makes her look like a Goth nightmare come true. Or dream come true, if that’s what floats your biscuit.
I’m wearing my uniform of a wrinkled white t-shirt, black jeans and boots, which might be a subconscious effort to piss Emilia off. I can tell she’s one of those old ladies who think women should dress all classy and sophisticated. If Dita Von Teese were someone’s granny, she’d probably look exactly like Emilia.
She comes sauntering into the house in a fitted dark blue pencil skirt and a silky blazer with fur trim. Her half black, half grey hair is up in an immaculate fresh twist. Just as I’d expected, she immediately gives my outfit the once over, her lips tightening with disapproval. It brings me a little rush of victory.
“Who’s this?” she asks, eyeing Rita apprehensively, her lips tightening even further.
“Rita’s helping me with the spell the same as you. She’s a witch too,” I explain.
Emilia scowls. “I have met every witch in this city, and she most certainly isn’t one of them.”
“Well you must not have met them all, because I most certainly am a witch.”
“If that’s the case then which family do you belong to?” Emilia questions.
“Uh…the Girards, technically. I’m not an official member. My daddy liked to mess around with the human ladies, if you catch my drift.”
“Hmph,” Emilia scowls with distaste. “I was never fond of the Girards, now I know the reason why.”
“Yeah well, I’m not so fond of them myself.” Rita’s dejected tone surprises me. She doesn’t usually let her sadness show to anyone other than me, Alvie and her mum.
Emilia seems surprised, too. She loses some of her frosty demeanour, before primly sitting herself down in a seat across from Rita. I follow suit.
After a few moments of silence, Emilia speaks up, addressing Rita, “I suppose I’m hardly entitled to judge. I’m guilty of my own fair share of sins.”
I know what she’s referring to now; the fact that she had numerous affairs behind her husband’s back.
“Oh, what sins were those?” Rita asks, sounding intrigued.
“I was an adulterer in my younger years,” Emilia puts it to her plainly. “I spent my nights in the company of men who were not my husband, and in the process I neglected my only child. Before I knew it, she was gone. I thought that perhaps a higher power was trying to punish me for my ways by taking her from me.”
Rita, seeming a little uncomfortable with Emilia’s unexpected confession, says, “Yeah well, we’ve all done things we regret.”
Emilia looks to me now. “My regrets are more numerous than most.”
I feel like I should say something to console her, but I can’t seem to muster up any sympathy. This is probably because deep down I know that she deserved her punishment.
“Did my grandfather, Filipp, ever find out about your affairs?” I ask instead.
Emilia sighs. “I think he always knew. He never said anything though. Perhaps that’s what spurred me to keep doing it. I was angry because it seemed like he just didn’t care.” She glances at me. “But Filipp is not your grandfather. He was not your mother’s biological father, and that was one thing that he didn’t know and I’ve never had the heart to tell him.”
“What?!” I exclaim. “If Filipp’s not my grandfather, then who is?” God, this woman’s secrets are even more plentiful than I thought.
“Your grandfather, he was unlike any man I had ever met before. He was more powerful than a warlock, a shapeshifter or a vampire. He was a sorcerer.”
Unearthly silence fills the room, as Rita’s eyes shoot wide open and lock onto mine. For that one brief moment we’re both thinking the exact same thing. Is Theodore not just Rita’s father, but my grandfather too?”
“The sorcerer, what was his name?” The words rush from my lips.
“His name was Roman,” she answers, and both Rita and I exhale loudly in relief. Emilia doesn’t seem to have noticed our momentary tension. “He had almost the exact same colouring as Filipp, but he was so much more handsome. That’s why when Darya was born Filipp never questioned her paternity. Her blue eyes and dark hair were Petrovsky through and through.”
