Drained

*Hezzlie*

“Wh-what?”
Dean is still looking at me like he just admitted he peed his bed until he was ten years old. Yet, when I press him for another explanation, he obliges. “A witch, Hezzlie. We think there’s a possibility you may have some witch blood on your mother’s side.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded, unable to respond. This just keeps getting stranger and stranger.
“Did you ever see your mother do anything unusual?” he asks, leaning in slightly.
“Other than putting the Christmas tree up as soon as the last trick-or-treater left the doorstep, no,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “Oh, yes. Christmas and Halloween. I’ve read about them. They seem cool.”
I’m not even going to ask why they don’t celebrate two major holidays here. I can’t take anymore weirdness. “If she’s ever done anything out of the ordinary, I’ve never seen it,” I assure him.
I can’t tell if he’s disappointed to hear that or if he wasn’t expecting me to say anything different. “All right. Well, it’s just something for you to be aware of.”
“Should I start trying to do incantations or cast spells?” I’m half joking, but at the same time, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this information.
“No, I don’t have any idea how this sort of magic works. I’ve never really met a witch before, but your mother’s family is from a place called Raven’s Hollow, and the Blackwood family there is known for being witches.”
“Does it skip a generation?” I ask. “Or two?” The idea that my sweet mother who has worked so hard to keep me safe and fed for the last eighteen years could potentially be a witch seems unbelievable to me.
“Possibly.” His shoulders rise and fall with uncertainty. “If I had anyone else to ask, I would.”
“But my grandparents live in a large city not far from where I grew up,” I remind him. “They told my mother to get out and never come back. So they don’t live in this Raven Hollow place you spoke of.”
He nods. “Yeah, I know. But your grandfather’s father was from there. We believe your grandmother’s family was also from there, but it’s difficult to find all of that out without being intrusive. We’re still looking into it.”
That’s all news to me, but Mom doesn’t talk a lot about her parents. It makes her sad to do so, and I never push it.
He scoots his chair back, and I’m a bit glad he’s leaving, even though I know I’ll be lonely again soon. “Listen,” he says, standing, “you’re going to be over there soon enough. Unfortunately.” He gestures at the castle across the way. “I wish I could do something to change it. Believe me, I’ve done everything I can.”
“I believe that.” I stand too, and for a moment, I have to wonder if I’ll ever see Dean again. I hope I do.
‘You might never see Rowan again,’ my wolf tells me.
I ignore her.
“Well, just be careful when you get there. I know he’s your father, and I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you, but please, regardless of your thoughts about Rowan, just remember that this man has done some terrible things in his life. You only know a bit of it. It’s too much for me to go into. Don’t trust him. If he was a good man, he never would’ve treated your mother the way that he did, and he never would’ve let you go eighteen years without knowing who he is.”
I listen to what he has to say, but it’s too much for me to process right now. I have to think that my father’s home will be my home since I can’t go back with my mother, so I nod, but I don’t know what to say.
I say nothing.
Dean lets out a loud sigh and then steps toward me. Before I know what’s happening, I’m wrapped up in a big hug, my arms crushed so I can’t raise them to hug him, not that I’m sure I would anyway.
After a moment, he lets me go and strides to the door. With one hand on the knob, he turns back to look at me. I stare at him, confused, and then he’s gone.
I crumble back into my chair. “What the fuck?” I can’t help but go back over everything he’s said. At least it’s a nice distraction from thoughts of what happened with Rown.
I pick absently at my pastry, still thinking about what Dean told me. Could Mom be a witch? Could I?
Grabbing my phone off the charger next to the bed, I decide to send her a text. “Mom, I know you don’t like to talk about Grandma and Grandpa Blackwood much, but can you tell me where they were from, before they moved to the city?” I send it and wait for her to ask me why I want to know.
Rather than texting back, she calls me. “Hi, baby.” Her voice is warm and encouraging, as always, but I hear the undertones of worry. “Why are you asking, honey?”
I haven’t told her about my father yet. Maybe I should. My plan was sort of to just get over there and then let her know, but now I’m not sure what the right decision is. I have to answer her, though, so I say, “I was chatting with Dean, and he said there’s a town near here where a lot of people with the last name Blackwood live, and he was asking if we might be related.” It sounds believable enough to me–I think.
She kind of chuckles under her breath, but sometimes she does that when she’s nervous. “I don’t think so, honey. My parents moved to the city before I was born, but they never really talked about where they came from. Still, where you are now is so far from the city, I doubt it.”
So she doesn’t know? It seems odd to me that her parents wouldn’t talk about where they came from–unless they were trying to keep something secret. “Okay,” I say with a sigh. “Well, if you think of anything that might tell you if they’re related or not, can you let me know? Dean seemed to think these people were pretty influential there.”
“Are you thinking of going to visit them?” she asks.
“No,” I admit. “I don’t think I’m ready to go anywhere yet.” That’s not true. My eyes go to the castle.
“Okay. I’ll let you know, baby.” I can hear her smiling through the phone. “How is everything else? Do you think you’ll be able to come home soon?”
We chat for several more minutes before her phone suddenly goes dead. I sigh, but I’m not surprised. For some reason, my mom’s phone always goes dead pretty easily. It doesn’t matter that she just bought a new one. She has the worst luck with her battery staying charged, even if it’s just come off the charger. I know she’ll call me back as soon as her phone is charged. I remember her telling me she had the same issue when she was younger–with her MP3 player and her portable CD player.
“Weird.” Everything is weird today. I look down at my phone and notice the battery is only at 5% even though I just grabbed it off the charger. “Must run in the family.” I push the thought from my mind and look out the window at the castle in the distance. When will I be going there, and what will it be like?
I think it will be soon.