Mack stared at Claire as she whispered, "What happened next?"
Suddenly, she was a little girl again. He used to tell her scary stories about werewolves, vampires, fae, and warlocks. May hated it, but he couldn't say no when his little niece looked up at him with big eyes and asked so politely for a story. He would always stop at the climax, sigh dramatically, and say that it's too scary. She would grab his hand and say she wasn't scared, that she would be brave. She would ask, so excited, "What happened next?"
This was not a little girl asking for a story. This was practically a carbon copy of his sister, the last family left from a life he tried so hard not to forget. Her leg was jumping in her seat, but out of agitation, not enthusiasm. Her mother did the same thing. 'Does,' he mentally chastised himself. 'She does.'
Claire was still watching him, but she didn't interrupt this time. She observed as he cycled through his emotions and thoughts, the same way he had to her. His facial expressions felt familiar and comforting, and although she knew why, it still unnerved her that she couldn't remember why.
Guilt covered Mack's face when he finally spoke again, "Your mom wanted to leave, but I talked her out of it. I told her that she needs to have a serious talk with the Priestess about boundaries. I assumed that Jocelyn was just acting the way she had been raised." Claire cocked a brow, and Mack explained, "Like most covens, the Yew Coven has a rather bloody history. And many witches believe that in order to prevent repeating it, that we need to focus on more, more aggressive methods of magic."
Claire nodded, accepting the answer. His guilt only deepened as he mumbled, "I'll regret that for the rest of my life, Claire. I really will."
His voice cracked as he apologized, and he cleared his throat of the tears welling up. She had no intention of offering forgiveness, mostly because she felt as though it was not hers to give.
"May spoke to her and it was fine, fine for about a year. But as you got older, you mastered the basics so quickly, and Jocelyn wanted to go back to strengthening your spiritual connection, but May refused to let her." He had to clear his throat again, and while Claire was empathetic to his sadness, it was beginning to annoy her. "She organized for May's work to take her away for a week, and when your mom returned a day early, she found you crying in a closet with a split lip, biting a washcloth so that Jocelyn wouldn't hear you cry again. She grabbed you and left within the hour.
"After about a day, she had one of her animals deliver me a message to meet her in Toronto. I went, and she showed me the spell she had prepared: she was going to force your magic to retreat."
Mack said that like it was enough of an explanation, but it meant next to nothing to Claire. She looked at him, indicating as such. It was clear that he did not want to share more, and Claire slowly realized that it was because whatever spell her birth mother had performed, it was not pretty.
"The reason we call our innate magic 'connections' is because it forms when our soul connects to nature. Other magic can be performed, as I'm sure you know. May isn't powerful enough to sever your connection, but she is powerful enough to force it to hide back within your soul. The only problem was, to do that, she would have to lock all memories you had of magic away as well. And to ensure that Jocelyn could never find you, she blocked your soul from reaching out to anything pertaining to that kind of magic."
Claire nodded, and although she wanted to find out exactly what this spell was, she decided that that information could wait. A small part of her felt violated – a woman she could not recall of manipulated her soul, took away her memories, and then disappeared. But most of her mind was clouded with confusion from, she realized, the spell. The spell that had given her a childhood of happy times, loving parents, and most important: safety.
"What happened to her?"
Mack shook his head, either unable or unwilling to tell her. And Claire didn't push this time.
Her head was finally clearing up from the bloodroot, though the line down her back still throbbed whenever she moved. As she slowly regained her senses, she recognized that the blood on Mack was not solely his. Some of it belonged to Colin.
"What did you do to him?!" she yelled; her mind raced, crumbling underneath her as she realized that all of this could simply be more of Jocelyn's twisted plans. "Where is Colin?!"
As her voice raised, Mack stiffened, in fear of both her and her grandmother. He begged that she keep her voice down. Claire noticed how scared he sounded as he spoke, so she obliged. Hissing through her teeth, she asked him, "Why is his blood on you?"
Mack stared down as his mangled hands, which were well-wrapped by a healer. He was certain that he had cleansed himself of the wolf's blood before arriving.
"You can't even look at me?" A dull panic set in as her mind jumped from conclusion to conclusion. "Is he dead?"
"No!" Mack finally spoke, ripped from his own questions.
Claire felt just enough strength return to appear in front of her uncle, lift him by the collar of his shirt, and shove him against the wall, standing on just the balls of his loafers. She bared her teeth, holding her mouth only inches from his rapidly pulsing carotid. "Tell me what happened, or I will rip your throat out, here and now," she growled, reveling in the waves of fear rolling off him. Elias would be proud of this display of power and control.
"He saved my life!" Mack cried out; his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to shift his neck as far away from the vampiress as possible.
Her grip loosened slightly, and she allowed him to stand against the wall. Swallowing, this time out of fear, not anxiety, he continued, "He should've killed me, back there. I would've killed him." A low growl rumbled in Claire's throat, and he squeaked, "That was before I knew who he was to you! Jocelyn locked us in there when she left with you. He could've killed me, but instead, he just got up and went to look for you. I owe him my life."
Claire dropped her uncle and returned to her bed, slightly out of breath. 'He's too good,' she thought to herself. 'It's going to get him killed.'
Mack hesitantly walked back to her, but he took a step away when she looked up, her eyes violet again. "I will help you. I will help you both. I swear."
With that, he left, leaving Claire to sort out just how true his stories and promises were.