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The bottle in his hand vibrated, and I stared at it in shock. “That is isn’t funny, Theseus. Stop shaking it.”
“I’m not,” he said seriously. “Try again…with less sarcasm and more desire. Magic allows for desire to become reality.”
Part of me wanted to. But, what did it mean if I could do this? Then again, not doing this meant I would be clueless as to what was happening to and around me as well as what had happened to cause Theseus to lose his memory. I took a deep breath, trying to think of what to say.
What rhymed with blood? Did a spell need to rhyme? That seemed a bit silly. It made me think all witches were walking around with a rhyme book just in case they needed to cast a spell.
Everything had steps. If I were going to pour wine into a glass, I needed to uncork the bottle first. I stared at the cork inside the bottle, watching it wiggle. Come on; you can do it. It wiggled and wiggled, but it wasn’t moving up, and at that point, I felt it was taunting me.
“Oh, just come out already!” I snapped at it, and it popped back, shooting out of the bottle like a bullet. The glass shattered, spilling the blood to the ground, and the cork landed a few feet from us. I stared at it shock.
“I think a delicate hand is needed for the craft.” Theseus snickered beside me.
“Don’t laugh. Look what you made me do!” I got on my knees to pick up the broken pieces, further ruining my dress.
At this point, if Lucy could save this dress, she definitely knew how to do magic. Not to mention the stains we’d just left. We were the worst guests in history.
“We have to get the stain out…” My voice drifted off as I watched the blood rise from the ground into a sphere-like blood bubble.
He knelt in front of me and lifted the wine glass from my hand. Then Theseus moved my hand over to the bubble and down. The blood followed my motion until it landed in the glass until it was full.
“Better.” He grinned. “I’m unsure how the Wiccan’s do it, but you passed my test.”
“Theseus, how the hell am I doing magic? I’m a vampire.”
“I don’t know; maybe your true gift is the gift of magic. Everything you’ve done so far is because of magic. Though the point is, you can do it, even as a vampire, which means you could most definitely do so as a mortal.” He put down the glass, and when he did, the blood bubble balanced on top of it, waiting. “You grew up in an area full of witches and next to another witch. Your magic is so strong that it follows your wishes even when you do not command it. How is it possible you do not remember ever having it? How is possible the witches around you never sensed it?”
“Maybe I didn’t want them to. Maybe I rejected the magic.” That didn’t make sense either. I would remember not wanting magic.
“Or maybe the reason the Omeron witches left you alone, Druella is because you are an Omeron coven witch and just don’t remember.” His eyes were clear and full of wonder like he was piecing the puzzles together the longer he stared. “What if my memory isn’t the only one missing? What if yours is, too?”
No. I shook my head. “How can I be missing my memory, Theseus? I remember everything?”
“Maybe there are holes—”
“There are no holes in my memory,” I said, and to prove it, I went through my short life for him. “Mother was Zira Monroe, she was an artist, and my love of art comes from her. She died giving birth to me. I spent my childhood finding comfort in her paintings and trying to copy them. My father was Dovev Monroe. He was heartbroken when she passed away, and everyone said he lost a piece of himself. He avoided me because I reminded him of my mother. He worked as an international aid worker, and I was always jealous that he spent more time helping other kids than me. So, I would misbehave in high school, hoping to get his attention.
“He’d just call the principle and apologize. I didn’t have the guts to do anything too bad because I’m a softy at heart. So, I was never expelled. I went to the University of Virginia. My first boyfriend was Marquis, a basketball player. He dumped me after we had sex. That made me withdraw more from people. I graduated at twenty-two with honors. My degree is in art history and studio art with a minor in anthropology. Then a week later, I began working as an intern at the Smithsonian. My boss, Mr. Pescoran then helped to get me an interview at the National Gallery. I got the job. I have been working there ever since. I rarely spoke to my father by that point, and I was just grateful he had paid my tuition. Around that time, he died after contracting a severe case of dengue fever in Brazil. I was grateful he didn’t ever meet me as a vampire. That has been my life up until now.”
Letting all of that out felt liberating in a way, but the look on Theseus’s face didn’t really make me feel much better. He watched me carefully.
“What?”
“You skipped the part where you turned into a vampire,” he said.
“You know that—”
“I know you were found by Lucy. How did you get there? Why were you there? Did you go to the forest often?” he questioned, and I paused to think back to that day.
But I could only remember the day before and waking up the day after. “Okay, I’m missing one day, but still, I remember the day before and the day after—”
“But you have no idea what brought you to the forest?” he asked.
Sighing, my head began to pound, so I rubbed it.
He reached over and put his palm on my cheek. “It is not my intention to distress you. I am merely seeking to understand what is happening to you…to us. But, I believe I maybe have been arrogant in thinking I could solve this alone.”
I leaned into his touch. “I’m trying to help, too.”
