The Ruler, The Fallen, and The Broken (Slayer 3)

Chapter 12

***

“So what do you have to tell me?” Violet asked as she got in my car.

“Not here, it’s not safe to talk about it. Your father, when he was killed, he sent me a letter giving me instructions to contact you one day. He told me to help you when you needed it most in case he or your mother wasn’t there. I found it quite eerie how that he had sent that right before he died…maybe he knew something was going to happen, but I don’t know,” I said as I pulled out of the drive way.

“Where are we going?” Violet asked.

“To what my mother called the Witch’s house when she took me to Fairfield Connecticut to visit. It was my grandparent’s house, and my family still owns it. That house is safe and protected grounds. I will explain everything once we are there, which will be in less than five minutes. It’s quite close to where you live today, although rumor is you moved out,” I said.

“How do you know so much about me?” Violet asked.

“I was instructed to make sure you were alive and doing all right, and that means keeping tabs on you,” I explained.

“So why are you showing up now? Why not before?” Violet questioned with an edgy tone.

“Your father said only when I felt that you would lose your way, and I feel like after you having to kill your uncle, you might need a secret weapon on getting back on your feet,” I explained as I pulled into a driveway of gravel that was slender and short.

            The house was just as I remembered it, black old rotting wood was what the house was made of. Still black as ever. It seemed smaller than I remembered, but that could be because I hadn’t been here since I was a kid. I knocked on the door and my cousin Darren answered the door. He hadn’t seen me in a long time and looked suspicious as he saw Violet.

“What’s going on?” Darren asked.

“I am helping a family friend,” I explained.

            Darren gave me a cautious look before letting us in. Darren had cut his hair, it used to be long and wavy, now his brown hair is short, it suits him better I think. His lean body reminded me of my grandfather, he looked a lot like him.

“Gretta, Clint is here,” Darren called.

            Gretta was my grandmother. She was eighty years old and still as spry as ever as she flitted into the room.

“Clint! How lovely of you to visit! And is that who I think it is?” Gretta asked as she looked at Violet.

“Yes, this is Violet Fortune,” I introduced.

“It is so nice to meet you, you have your fathers eyes, and your mothers hair,” Gretta said as she pulled Violet into a hug like they had known each other for years.

“Nice to meet you too,” Violet said.

“I’m Darren by the way,” Darren interrupted and I shot him a glare.

“Why don’t you go upstairs Darren?” I suggested.

            Darren looked at me coldly and took a deep breath before walking out of the small living room, up the stairs.

“Clint…Darren is not the boy you used to know,” Gretta chided.

“Can’t be too careful with Violet here,” I said as I led Violet to sit on the old couch.

“I have not kept informed Clint, why are you here with Violet? What has happened?” Gretta asked concern filling her voice.

“Nothing, but its time for Violet to know what her fathers heritage is,” I said and Gretta nodded in solemn understanding as she walked through the opening to the kitchen.

“What is so big that you had to take me to some place you believe to be safe?” Violet asked.

“Your father, he was a wonderful man and mentor to me. Your father was a man of many talents. He was a sorcerer, and so are Gretta, Darren, and I. My family has been sorcerers for a long time. Your father’s family was the same. The thing that was different was that your father married a human. He broke some rules or beliefs to marry your mother. A lot of people turned their back on him after that, but my family stuck by his side. Your mother knew that he was a sorcerer, he told her before they got married. You have dreams. You have dreams that can predict the future and dreams with your parents in them. It’s something every person goes through if they have magic in their blood,” I explained.

“You’re saying I have powers?” Violet asked laughing.

“No, because you are not a pure blood. You have tiny abilities. You have those dreams, and you are stronger than the normal person, which is why you excel in being a Hunter. Vlad knew nothing of your father’s heritage; the only one in your family who knew was your mother. Your father wanted me to tell you when you were ready to know,” I said waiting for Violet’s response.

“So your saying that I have abilities that normal people don’t have? I guess it explains the dreams, but … I feel so ignorant! I only knew that vampires existed until a couple months ago when I found out that werewolves exist, now sorcerers? What’s next, the boogieman?” Violet said sarcastically.

“No, there is not boogieman. Your father and my family, we are very power sorcerers. We have strong bloodlines, and most sorcerers feel threatened by our strength,” I said.

“So what are you saying?” Violet asked.

“That Eric killed Jeannette not only because he thought no one could have her but him, but also because someone hired him to kill her. That person knew that Vlad was deeply in love with Jeannette and knew Vlad had severe anger issues. He, being a sorcerer, predicted the outcome of Vlad killing your parents, which was good for him since your father was of great lineage,” I explained.

“So why haven’t I been killed? I am of the same lineage.” Violet asked.

“Because you are not as powerful, you really don’t have any abilities…maybe you could work a level one spell, but nothing special. You are not a threat at all; in fact a sorcerer would laugh at anyone who said you were a threat. Anyways, that is why your father was a friend with vampires. Your mother at first was skeptical, but soon warmed up to the Forfangs,” I explained.

            Violet sat there, and I could see her running the conversation through her head. I stood up and left her in her thoughts. Walking into the kitchen Gretta was sitting at the small round table with a Halloween tablecloth with a cup of tea staring out the window at the falling leaves.

“How are you?” I asked quietly, sitting down.

“I am doing just fine. Though, Darren can be a handful at times, but you cannot blame him for his…misuse of magic and outbursts. He watched his parents die and barely made it out alive himself. So don’t be too harsh on him,” Gretta said turning to face me.

“I need to be hard on him. He needs a strong figure in his life. You know the dangers of misuse of magic…” I said looking at Gretta to make sure she saw how serious I was.

“I know, and I have made him a lot better. He has a lot more control over his powers. He is a powerful force, and can be hard to control at times because of the emotional and mental damage he went through at the age of seven. He needs nurturing and love,” Gretta said holding her position.

“He hasn’t done any dark magic has he?” I asked.

“Not since the last time you saw him, which was many years ago. He just loses control of his powers at times, you know creating fires, or making things explode because he is holding anger in, but he is doing a lot better,” Gretta informed.

“Glad to hear that,” I said thinking back to when he was a kid.

“How did Violet take the news?” Gretta asked.

“She is still processing,” I said.

“The poor soul…leading such a hard life,” Gretta said with sad eyes as she looked out the window.