Chapter 34: The Witch's Advocate

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Perry

The walk home solidifies my thoughts on David. If he is a werewolf, he is clearly struggling with it. The growls and snarls are indicative of his inability to control the sudden shifts in his personality.

That hurt my head.

Regardless, I attempt to call David multiple times. I decide to leave a message as I enter the house. I absentmindedly make my way to the kitchen as I reassure David nothing he could tell me would change my mind about him.

Wrong move.

The moment I enter the kitchen, I find my mother and grandmother standing at the island with Porter, who is eating our grandmother's famous sweet potato pie.

My hackles raise as I sit our food down on the counter beside Porter, who stares at me as he finishes off his pie.

"Who was that, little bro?" Porter asks.

I ignore Porter's question in favor of satiating my curiosity. "What's going on here? Granny, I didn't know you were coming or I'd have asked if you wanted something." I say.

Patricia smiles as she walks around the counter and hugs me. I inhale the smell of my granny. She smells of sweet potato pie and an older perfume they barely make anymore.

She releases me before asking me to join her in the living room. Penny's face reveals her nervousness. Her emotions flow freely into me as I follow granny into the living room.

Patricia complains about the leather sofa as we take our seats. I sit my bag down next to me as she grumbles, opting to sit across from me on the sturdy coffee table. A long moment passes as my granny prepares herself for the discussion we are about to have. When she is ready, she reaches out and grabs my hands.

"I'm so sorry for allowing your parents to run me away. And allowing them to bind your powers, sloppily as they did." Patricia says. "But you are in great danger."

"Oh, Granny, we passed that point six months ago."

"But I fear you do not know the depth of your abilities. You were given gifts other witches could only imagine, and some will hate you for it." She says.

"Why?" I ask.

"A man being chosen as the Zion, being given such immense power, gives many witches pause." Patricia says. "Men have historically not made the soundest decisions when it comes to magic and power."

"I'll add witches to my list of enemies."

"You mustn't. You have a responsibility, as the Zion, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You must be the bigger person. You have it in you." Patricia says. "Our family has always commanded respect in the magical community."

"Is that why the women in our family keep their last names?" I ask.

"Yes. The name Bennett is a known far and wide as a powerful line of witches."

"You do know I'm just a teenager, right? You sound like Al—Dad. You both seem to forget I just want to be like everyone else, even if I'm not." I say. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't want to be powerful? Or fight demons? Or ruin the coolest pair of boots I own? I love those boots."

Patricia squeezes my hand with a smile. "Much is given to those who do not ask for it. I wish I could give you kind words about being like others, but you are special. It's why you must know where you came from."

Patricia begins by telling me about a witch named Tituba. I read about her last year while we studied the crucible. I found her story the most intriguing.

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