Don't Say His Name

Chapter 12

(A/N Just had my Covid Booster jab yesterday and I feel like shite so if this isn't great I apologise)

"Ameliana?" My mum tucks a piece of hair that fell behind her left ear "Yes, she was the one who helped me hide you when you were a child" I pick up a Custard Cream and dip it in my tea then took a bite. I lift my left leg over my right, my head to the side not looking at them.

"You know that day where your father and I took you on that road trip? We took you to her, she placed a cloaking and protection spell on you so he couldn't find you.

It must've worn off or something which doesn't make sense, I called her again but she didn't know what happened, he must've done something that un cloaked you. We need to go to her, see if she can put another spell on you for protection or something I don't know". She groans and rubs her temples "Why can't he fuck off!".

'Maybe because he's a Kìteçam who wants to kill your daughter?'.

She looks at Drá "Shut up" I lean forward "Drákones, you know in the library before we had to get out you were talking about the Morts? And you only know that they created something, since your knowledge is cool now is there anything you know?"

'As I said in the library my knowledge doesn't go really as far as the Morts I only know they created something, I don't know why my creator didn't give me knowledge about them'.

"Can't you ask your creator?".

'I cannot, I'm stuck here until I've fulfilled my duty'.

"So since I'm 'powerful' How come I don't have any powers?" Everyone's silent, my mum's got her thinking face on. Our thinking is interrupted by a knock on the front door, mum rolls her eyes and stands up "I swear if it's Avon again I'm going to complain, I love makeup but knocking on my door like three times a week is so annoying" And she walks off.

"So Drá, you got anything?".

'To be honest I can't think of anything, something I do know is all he wants is to kill you and there's something about your blood that's important to him'.

A flash of the 'dream' I had where the fucker was dragging me about appears in my head.

"I had a 'dream' a couple of nights ago and he was talking about a woman called Ameliana who was born in the eighteen hundreds and said she died of an illness her brother had and he said I was a reincarnation of her and saying that we were lovers or something I can't really remember".

'Excuse my French but what the fuck?'.

I throw my hands in the air in disbelief "I know right! But when he said her name for the first time I felt something in my chest like a pang oh and he mentioned a Mort! Saying how he went there and there was a spell of reincarnation and shit, fuck if only I can remember more!".

'He knows about Morts? Why didn't I know that? Amelia what he said was a lie'.

"But it didn't feel like a lie".

'Why would he say you were lovers? And reincarnation? And a Mort? I'm sorry Amelia I don't know'.

"After that though I woke up and I wrote something in French when I know fuck all about the language, It said don't say his name and I felt this pain in my chest and my head hurt like fuck then it went away, Drá this is really fucking serious we need to do something".

'Why didn't you mention this before?!'.

I lean back against the sofa "There was so much going on I didn't think and plus I was in a bit of denial" I hear footsteps coming to the living room and I see my mum looking at a fancy box with confusion "Hey Amelia did you order something? It's addressed to you" She hands me the box.

Also confused I look at the box and sit up straight, I see a little note attached, I pick it up and read.

'To Amelia,
I hope you like it'

"What the fuck?" I open the box and "Hey guys there's a severed hand in here" I place the box on the coffee table, literally not knowing what to do, say, how to react all that jazz.

My mum looks in the box "Yup, there's a hand" I grimace "Why the fuck would someone give me a hand, I look at it and my jaw drops, there's a ring.

I know who's hand it is, I bolt up and run out of the house, not hearing my mum or Drákones.

'No it can't be, it's not her it's not her it's not her'.

Now at my destination with sweat dripping down my face, the tears now dried up I run in the building.

"KATYA!".