The ride home was a welcomed relief. The only moment I had that day to myself. Although spending my free period with Wardwell hadn't been so bad. Most of the hour was spent grading tests accompanied by casual conversation. Any other time I would've found it tedious and unnecessary but considering the connection I felt with this strange woman it came easily and as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Her words from earlier continued to echo in my mind. What could she possibly have meant by I was so much more. Surely she couldn't know that I was a witch. She was a mere mortal. Thoughts continued to race through my mind even as I pulled up the drive and parked adjacent to the family hearse. She may be a mere mortal but the sparks of magic I felt with every brief form of skin to skin contact was unmistakable. I hadn't even noticed that my legs had numbly carried me up the steps and into our foyer until my mother's voice broke me out of my inner musings. "You took your time getting home," She regarded me coolly. I cursed myself internally coming up with a clever lie, "I'm sorry, Mother. I had a few errands to run in preparation for Sabrina's dark baptism. A witch's work is never done." She eyed me up and down but I could tell she was pleased with my answer. If she knew that I had been with the mortal woman I had been pinning over for the past week I was sure she'd have my head. "Good. Run along and get ready we're having the High Priest over and you reek of mortal. Perhaps he'll be able to talk some sense into Sabrina," She mused that last part to herself more than me. Nonetheless I felt bile rise in the back of my throat. The High Priest was a man I loathed being near. I had a general distaste for the male gender save for my cousin Ambrose but the High Priest was at the top of that list. The way he looked at my mother did not go unnoticed and the rivalry he had with my father made me often wonder if he hadn't had something to do with his untimely demise. However, being a handmaiden of Lilith meant I had to spend a certain amount of time around him. However, within the walls of the Spellman household I had found my safe haven from the outside world and that very much included our High Priest. "Nicole? Are you feeling well?" I hadn't even noticed my mother's worried expression until she pressed her cool hand against my forehead. I nodded numbly, "Yeah, of course. I'll go get ready." I quickly ran up stairs letting out a sigh of relief as my bedroom door shut behind me. I let my bag fall to the floor as I entered the connecting bathroom quickly turning on the shower head letting the steam engulf me. The day had been trying at best and now my mother expected me to stroke the ego of a self righteous tyrant. I shed my clothes from the day and carefully placed them in the basket, shutting the lid and sliding into the shower letting the scalding water wash over my shoulders. Often my Aunt Hilda would fuss over how hot I ran the water claiming it would burn the skin off of someone's bones. However, I was born of fire. It burned beneath my skin lying dormant until called upon and this felt like coming home. My mind wandered to the same sensation I got from touching the Wardwell woman. When she grabbed my arm, or when our hands would casually brush, or even later in the day when her knee would accidentally brush mine underneath the desk. Then my mind wandered to what other kinds of touches would feel like and I cursed myself shaking the thoughts from my head. I needed to focus because I was headed into a viper's nest. I quickly began to scrub the day away from my skin leaving angry red marks over my body not worrying if I'd draw blood. Then the images began. Red lips pressed firmly against mine. Manicured hands scratching achingly slow down my abdomen. Hands tangled in perfectly coiffed hair. Teeth dragging across my lower lip. "Fuck, Spellman. Get a hold of yourself." My heart began to race as I rested my forehead against the cool shower wall. Then I saw it out of the corner of my eye. A perfect silhouette outlined behind the shower curtain. The silence became deafening. All but my heartbeat ringing in my ears faded to nothing. Who would dare sneak up on a witch? I swallowed thickly gathering my bearings reaching out to pull the shower curtain back only to be met with no one. I quickly finished my shower and prepared per my mother's instructions. The sun was dipping fast behind the treeline outside my bedroom window and dread settled in the pit of my stomach. How I wish I could disappear with it. I slowly made my way downstairs and had to forcefully stop myself from cringing when I saw the tall man standing next to my mother. Faustus Blackwood often reminded me of one of the corpses stored below in the embalming room with his lanky build and sunken features. It was only his pompous attitude that reminded he was still one of the living. "ah, here she is. Nicole, come and welcome Father Blackwood," My mother's firm grip pulled me to stand in front of the man. He looked me up and down gaze lingering a little too long for my liking. "Ms. Spellman, a vision as always. You look more and more like your mother with each passing day," He took my hand with a flourish pressing a kiss to my knuckles and I felt bile rising my throat for the second time that evening. I looked nothing like my mother. She was tall and fair with flaming locks that fell in perfect ringlets. She was the picture of sophistication and elegance. I stood a whole head shorter, my tanned skin was lined with tattoos, and my long raven hair couldn't hold a curl on a good day. By all accounts I was the spitting image of my father. Nevertheless I bowed my head in respect, "Father." He smirked down at me basking in my submission, "Well then it has come to my understanding we have a wayward sheep that's wandered too far from the flock. Whatever shall we do?" I followed my mother and the High Priest into our parlor where my cousin and Aunt already waited. "With all due respect, Father, I don't think that's the case here. I believe my cousin only requires a bit of clarity. She already shows potential and hasn't even begun to truly tap into her abilities. Once we get her away from the mortal world I think she'll fit into our community beautifully," I stated matter of factly. He studied me for a moment with pursed lips before taking a seat. "I see. I trust your judgment my child. Perhaps I can provide this clarity. After all a coven is only as strong as its weakest link and we can't have any of that now can we?" My mother who had been hanging on to his every word spoke up finally, "Agreed, Father. Your wisdom is always welcome. Nicole, why don't you pour us all a drink?" I gritted my teeth, biting back any rebellion I felt bubbling up. My Aunt Hilda placed a reassuring hand on my wrist as I passed, quelling the fire burning just below the surface, "none for me, darling." I walked over to the drink cart examining the bottles carefully as the conversation going on in the background faded to the back of my mind. My mother preferred gin but my fingers came to rest on an expensive scotch reserved for special occasions. My father's favorite scotch. I smirked silently to myself. I may not be allowed to openly rebel but surely this would rub the high priest in the wrong way. I opened the decanter and poured hearty amounts in each of the glasses before returning to the seating area, passing out the glasses and taking a seat next to the high priest. He took a sip and raised his glass to my mother, "I see that you've taught your daughter well, Sister Zelda." Before she could answer I cut in, "It was my Father's actually. I suppose the credit should go to him." Father Blackwood nearly choked on the gulp he had taken, "Yes, I supposed it should. Your Father always had good taste." I noticed how his gaze lingered on my mother and I had to suppress an eye roll. This man was not well versed in the art of subtlety. He sat his glass down on the table nearest to us, "Tell me, Nicole, how are the preparations for your cousin's Dark Baptism coming?" Part of the role as Handmaiden of Lilith is preparation for all of our Coven's rituals and rites. I was the High Priest's left hand. I came into the role at a young age in my time at the Academy. The youngest our coven has ever seen and I took my job very seriously leaving no room for error. "Everything is coming along, Father. I've located everything needed and my mother and Aunt have ensured the black narcissus will be ready and at the clearing for the Baptism. Everything is falling into place." He nodded approvingly, "Good. We can afford no errors." The sound of the front door closing alerted us all to Sabrina's arrival and I found myself wanting to call out to warn her. "Aunties? Cousins? Can we please have a family meeting? I've made a decision about my baptism." My aunt cleared her throat, "Sabrina, we're in here." We all turned to Sabrina as she entered hesitantly taking in the scene before her. Blackwood appraised her, "Is this the child?" My mother's back straightened ever the proud woman, "It is your excellency." Sabrina walked further taking tentative steps. "This is our niece Sabrina," My Aunt continued. The High Priest leaned forward gripping his cane, "Oh, my child. You have no idea how special you are, do you? How you've been chosen." Sabrina studied the man before her, "Sorry, do I know you?" My mother scoffed, "Honestly. Forgive her, Father, she knows not what she says." At her still puzzled expression my Aunt put the pieces together for her, "Sabrina, we are being honored tonight. This is Faustus Blackwood. He's High Priest of the Church of Night. Dark Lord Satan's representative on Earth." I nearly rolled my eyes at Blackwood's proud expression at his full title. "Your Aunts tell me you're having doubts about your Baptism. That you may, in fact, not be signing your name in the Book of the Beast." Sabrina looked to me for answers, "Uh..." The High Priest shook his head, "No no no that cannot be. That must not be. So, let us see what I can do to convince you." Sabrina's fate was sealed and there was nothing I could do to save her.
