Jasmine didn't get a chance to respond. She opened her mouth, but her words were cut off when a loud screech sounded from outside. Her head whipped towards the window in alarm, mouth agape. She didn't even notice that she had gripped the hot mug tighter in surprise. "What was that?" she gasped.
Ophelia wasn't bothered. She shifted in her chair, the plastic crumpling beneath her. Her eyes never left the puzzle in front. "Those vampires are getting antsy."
As soon as she said those words, the screech came again, this time joined by a load roar. It was obviously a lycan. Jasmine swallowed frightfully. Her hands began shaking again, and she slowly took a sip of her tea, hoping it would calm her nerves. It didn't work.
"Stop worrying, child," said Ophelia. She frowned before penciling in an answer. "The spell will hold up. It has lasted this long, a few supernaturals won't tear it down."
"A few? That's way more than a few!"
"Sorry. I didn't get a chance to count," Ophelia replied dryly. "But the spell will still stand."
"Can you stop calling it a spell? No such thing exists!"
Ophelia looked up at her in question. "It doesn't?"
"No! Spells and witchcrafts and ... and all those stuff ... they don't exist!"
"Then how do you explain what's happening?"
"I don't know ..." Jasmine's eyes fell. She stared into the tea, watching the leaves swirl in the cup. "I don't know but..."
"Look outside."
She looked up. Ophelia wasn't looking at her, so caught up was she in her puzzle. But her tone was direct, something Jasmine was sure she couldn't just ignore. Even so, she sat there, staring at the old woman. She looked so calm, completely contrasting the raging fear coursing through Jasmine. Her hands were still shaking, although the force of it toned down a bit. Still, all she could think was that she was sitting in the living room of a delusional woman drinking tea while vampires and lycans outside hunted for her. And her mother ... she was still out there.
"Look outside, child," Ophelia said again, this time with a hint of sharpness. Slowly, Jasmine set her shaky cup down on the table before her and rose. She went over to the window and peered outside.
The vampires and lycans were still there. They were all crowding the street before the house, some in suits, some in jeans, some barely dressed. All looked crazed though, foaming at their mouths. They were screeching and roaring, banging themselves against an invisble wall surrounding the gate. Each time one of them slammed themselves against the wall, they were bounced back off with an electric shock. That didn't stop them though. They just kept coming. Jasmine watched in alarm as Rich make his way to the front, claws out. He clawed at the wall, but his hand was thrown back. It started smoking but that didn't stop him.
"You're hurting them!" Jasmine whirled on the old lady behind her.
"That's the point, dear."
"Turn it off! They're going to kill themselves on that thing."
Slowly, Ophelia's eyes rose to meet Jasmine's terrified ones. "If I bring the spell down, they'll be able to get to you. I won't be able to protect you anymore."
Jasmine sagged. She knew she was right. If that wall came down - whatever it really was - she knew it was the end for her. She looked out the window at Rich again and bit her lip in pity when she saw him ramming himself into the wall. "How do we get them to stop?"
"What was that?"
She turned back to the couch and sat. After taking a large gulp of her tea, Jasmine set it back down and said, "How do we get them to stop?"
"I'm sorry, dear, I don't think I heard you correctly. Are you asking me to explain my witchcraft?"
"It's not witchcraft."
"I guess we'll be here for a while."
She sighed. "Fine. Let's say I do believe you. How does a witch get them to stop then?"
"It's simple, child. I'll have to use something to keep your power contained. The power you have is what is making them go so crazy in the first place."
"My power?" Then it clicked. "You mean pure magic?"
"You're smart. That's good. That'll make my job easier. Yes, child, I mean pure magic. Supernaturals go berserk around it."
"But ... this is the first time."
"You've been wearing a charm all this time. I know because I was the one who made it. Your mother came to me when you were just a child, asking for help. She knew she wouldn't be able to protect you all the time, so she needed you to wear something that'll protect you when she wasn't there."
"A charm ..." What charm could she ... "My necklace!"
"That's the one. But now you've gone and lost it and caused all this ruckus."
"It wasn't my fault." Without thinking, her hand fumbled at her throat, seeking the necklace she lost. "I was attacked by lycans and it got lost during the fight."
"Whatever the reason is, it's gone now."
"So can't you make me a new charm?"
"Not until your mother gets here."
"Why..." A knock sounded at the door, cutting Jasmine's words off. It was frantic and loud and Jasmine knew just who it was before she heard her voice.
"Jaz? Madame Ophelia? Are you in there?"
Jasmine shot to her feet. Madame Ophelia sighed loudly, pushing herself into standing position but Jasmine was already at the door. She swung it open. Jacey Wynter stood on the other end of the screen door. She was panting, wisps of curly black hair pulled out of its hold. When she saw Jasmine, her face relaxed with relief. Jasmine pushed the screen door opened and, before she could blink, her mother had her in a bone crushing grip. She felt the same knee buckling relief race through her, but she didn't return the hug.
Jacey pulled away. "Jaz, are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"No, mommy, I'm fine. You're good, right?"
"I'm fine, dear. I'm fine." Jacey was breathless. She stepped into the house and Jasmine closed the door behind her, trying not to look at the supernaturals hurting themselves against the wall protecting her. Jacey went straight to the spot Jasmine just left and sank into the uncomfortable couch. "I'm so tired."
"Nice to see you too, Jacey."
Jacey sat up when she noticed Ophelia. She nodded in respect. "Thank you so much for taking care of her, Madame Ophelia."
"I couldn't just let the child die, now could I?"
"Still, thank you so much."
"I heard you the first time, dearie. Now, are we going to do this or what?" Without waiting for an answer, Ophelia turned her back to mother and daughter and went into another room.
"Going to do what?" Jasmine sat beside her mother, face contorted in question.
Jacey didn't look at her first. She still stared after Ophelia. After a few moments passed, she turned to face Jasmine. "Did Madame Ophelia tell you anything?"
Jasmine nodded. "Yeah, she told me a spell is what's protecting the house. And then she told me some foolishness about me having pure magic and the necklace I lost being a charm."
"Jasmine, I know you don't think it's foolishness."
She blinked in bemusement. "What?"
"It's not foolishness. It's true. It's all true. You having pure magic, the necklace, the supernaturals, the spell. Everything is true. I need you to believe this."
"You're joking with me, right?"
"Jasmine, does this look like a joking situation to you? We don't have any time to be cracking jokes. Think about it. As soon as you lost your necklace, you've been getting attacked. There are tens of supernaturals out there trying to get you. Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"
She did. In fact, she understood a long time ago. She just didn't want to believe it. No matter how much she loved daydreaming, as much as she loved creating worlds in her head, she couldn't actually believe this was happening to her. Magic, witchcraft ... it was a lot to handle. Too much to handle, actually. The weight of the situation sank onto her shoulders. She fell back against the plastic. She heard her mother say something to her, but she was too busy drowning in the new information she didn't think she'd be able to handle.
When Ophelia came back into the room, Jasmine didn't notice her presence until she slammed something down on the table before her. Just like what was left of the tea in her mug, Jasmine jolted. Ophelia straightened, groaning and murmuring about how old she was. Jacey answered her. Jasmine ignored them both, staring at the massive book in front.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing to it.
"A spell book," answered Jacey.
It looked like one. Exactly what she imagined one would look like, with brown leather wrapping and weird inscriptions written on the front. There were some sort of odd symbols too, but Jasmine couldn't decipher what they meant. It was large, the pages old and fagile. Ophelia sank to her knees before the book and flipped it open. It was handwritten. Words Jasmine couldn't translate were already fading away. Ophelia continued to flip until she came upon the spell she wanted.
"Here it is," she announced. "Two of you. Hold hands."
"Wait, what are you going to do?" Jasmine asked.
"A spell, child. Can't you listen?"
"What sort of spell? Why don't you just make another charm?"
"That won't work this time." It was Jacey who answered. "The charm's lingering effect should have lasted about a week after losing it but it barely lasted two days. We need something stronger."
"What's stronger than the charm?"
"Why don't you find out?" Ophelia snapped. She snapped her bony fingers impatiently. "Now, hurry. Hold hands."
Jasmine was still tentative. She didn't like the idea of having a spell being done on her. Still, she accepted her mother's waiting hands. "Wait, why do I have to hold your hands then?"
"The spell is going to transfer some of my magic to you tamper yours. It should work well."
"Won't that hurt you?"
Jacey's eyes shifted away for a split second before she shook her head and smiled. "Don't worry so much. It'll only make me tired for a few days. Nothing big."
"You sure?"
"She said she'll be fine, child. Now, let's hurry this up. My nap time is coming up and I don't want to be late on account of you two. Close your eyes."
Jasmine did as she was told. She tried tampering the anxiousness stirring her stomach. Her palms were already getting sweaty. Despite her efforts, she couldn't stop fidgeting. The screeching outside didn't make it any better. Jacey squeezed her hands, in an attempt to calm her she was sure, but it didn't work very much. When Ophelia started chanting, her anxiousness doubled.
It was another language. Her words were short and choppy, just like her mother's had been, and her voice had taken on a deeper, scarier tone. It sent chills down Jamsine's spine just hearing it.
Soon, the air around them began to shift. At first, Jasmine thought it was just a draft from the window before she remembered they were closed. The draft began to grow, until it had her curls whipping in its talons. She squeezed tighter on her mother's hands, fearing that if she loosened just a bit, she would be blown away. As the wind grew stronger, sending the room into chaos, Ophelia's voice grew in volume. She was full on shouting over the gale.
Jasmine was terrified. Her mind ran hot with images of the roof blowing off, of the wind sending her off the couch, through the window and out where the supernaturals could kill her in peace. But, soon, she forgot all about the wind. She forgot all about Ophelia's scary chanting. A rush ran through her, different than anything else she's ever felt. It was hot and powerful, like it could explode inside her at any moment. It was building momentum, the pressure rising so much, she could hardly contain the tears slipping out the side of her eyes. The rush grew stronger and stronger with each passing second. Then suddenly, something hit her square in the chest. The rush disappeared and she was knocked away from her mother. She didn't even get to feel the couch beneath her back before she passed out.