Salem – 1693
Six months later…
How had everything gone so wrong so fast?
Bellatrix wonder this over and over again as wet, warm blood dripped between her fingers and onto the white sheets of the small nursery…
Earlier that day everything had seemed so normal. Or at least as normal as you could these days in the small town of Salem. Bellatrix had been sitting outside her family home, enjoying her afternoon tea and thinking about something strange that had just transpired.
Just short of 48 hours ago, her stepmother had given birth to a little baby girl. And while the birth had taken forever and then a day, it had all gone off without a hitch. Mother and daughter were fine, although all her stepmother would see or hear, was the baby. Her father was rather disappointed to have another burden added to the household – since that was all a daughter ever would be – and was therefore drinking his sorrows away in the library. Which left everyone tiptoeing around, wanting to doe and daut on the new mother, but also not pissing off her father any more than he already was. All while giving her disapproving glares for not having settled in some mainstream marriage and started a family of her own already.
Bellatrix was already sick of it.
For the first time in her life, she actually envied her sisters who had married just out of school. Hell, she envied her brothers who were off with their own wives somewhere in the world. And so, she'd grabbed a book and had been on her way out in the garden to read, when she passed her mother's room. The door had been open and she'd glimpsed her on the bed, hovering over her daughter while making small baby-sound and hums that weren't any kind of words.
"Oh, Bella," her mother called out, just as she passed. Biting back a groan, Bella instead plastered on a well-practiced smile and stepped into the room.
"Yes, mother?" she asked in her sweet voice as if she was eager to help in any way she could. She wasn't. She detested small children and babies were the worst. Seriously, what did you do with something as completely helpless as a newborn babe? Perhaps she wasn't willing to admit that the responsibility and dependence actually scared her. To have someone rely solely on you and believe in you so completely was a terrifying thought and she didn't ever see herself ever capable of such responsibility. But that would be admitting she had a fault and someone who aspired to become the most powerful within her coven, didn't have faults or weaknesses.
So she denied it…
"Come here," her mother encouraged her, patting the bed next to her. "Sit."
Dread crawled up Bellatrix's spine and for a second, she wondered if she should make up an excuse. Bark some insult at the woman and storm away to avoid what she knew was about to happen.
Her stepmother wanted her to hold the baby!
As sensitive and hormonal as her mother had become it would be an easy task. And she held no love – or any other emotions as a matter of fact – for her stepmother. The only person Bellatrix had ever felt the slightest threads of emotions for was her late mother.
The most powerful witch in their coven!
Her biological mother, Catherine Phips, had worked her way to the top of the coven by being as ruthless and cruel as needed, doing whatever it took to be the best. When she married and had her children her days as the most powerful witch in the coven – as it did for most women – had taken a back seat as she concentrated on playing housewife and mother. But when she realized the magical potential in her middle child, she'd instantly favored her above all her other children.
And Bellatrix had thrived in that favoritism.
Thinking about her mother always filled Bella with a sense of pride and determination. She was going to follow in her mother's footsteps and become just as powerful as her. It was her mother who had taken her aside and showed her everything she needed to know about magic. She'd even been there when she showed her how to create her own hut – a magical pocket dimension where all her potions and talismans could be crafted. And even to this day, she something went to the hut, for peace and quiet, but also to just feel near to her mother again…
Now…
Witches didn't love anything or anyone but power. Black misery and chaos that could fuel them were the only things they craved.
The only thing they loved…
But Bella still liked to think that perhaps there had been a special connection between herself and her deceased mother.
Not love – NEVER love!
But something special nevertheless…
And the half-witted tit that had married her father was hardly worth an inch of Bellatrix's thoughts. And she didn't owe her any favors either, because the wench had sold her out to her father more times than she could count. How often had she been hiding away in her room, or tucked behind some bushes in the garden, reading quietly and ignoring her father's angry shouts, when her step-mother had found her and instantly called on Mr. Phips?
More times than Bellatrix could care to count!
Yet when her stepmother patted the bed and Bellatrix knew what was about to happen, she still straightened her spine, widen her smile, and walked forward. The most powerful witch-to-be wouldn't be bested by an infant, damn it!
"You haven't had a chance to hold your baby sister yet," Juliette cooed as if Bellatrix had been denied some kind of luxury. Bellatrix just barely withheld a snort. Perhaps if she cursed the little rat she would gain some inkling of power from the misery it would cause. But seeing that her father was utterly uninterested in the baby and that the glow after birth usually only lasted a few short days, she was convinced that this happiness wouldn't last for her stepmother either. Hell, they would happily---
"Isn't she just wonderful?" Juliette joyfully giggled, never taking her eyes off her daughter. And that's when Bellatrix first felt it.
There was a sliver of something magical in the air.
Unsure of where it came from, she sought out the origin and---
Shock filled her as she realized that it came from some bond between the child and her mother. She'd never come across anything like it before – loving parents weren't a common norm in the social circles where she roamed – so, out of curiosity she reached out with her own magic. Testing it and wondering if this was something she could use to make herself more powerful…
The surge that shot though her by simply touching the bond had her bolting upright in shock. She'd never felt anything so powerful. Never encountered anything that with a simple slick had her blood simmering and coming alive with more power than she'd ever encountered before.
"Bella?" her stepmother questioned with a frown and Bellatrix had to shake herself to regain her wits.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, handing the babe back to its mother. "I guess I'm more emotional than I thought I'd be."
And it hadn't been a lie either. Touching magic like that--- it felt like it somehow had changed her. It wasn't chaos – blood, pain, and agony. No, it was something--- Something else. Something she couldn't explain, but one touch was all it took.
She felt herself change.
She spent the rest of the day, wondering more about her baby sister than she'd ever thought about any other person. Witches didn't consider other people as anything than means to an end. Yet, thinking about her sister like that, angered her. She felt something rebel inside of her and she realized that just thinking about anyone wanting to harm her sister and she'd---
That's how she ended up in the garden, drinking tea and so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't sense someone coming up behind her until it was too late.
"You seem to be thinking about something terribly hard," mused a familiar voice and she glanced up, meeting a pair of blue eyes that matched her own. His smile was well-practiced and cunning – again like her own – but it still managed to send shivers of desire down her spine.
Remus Devlin – also known as simply Remy – was her mother's younger brother and the only man she would ever love. Yes, she knew it was forbidden and unacceptable for a witch, but she couldn't help what she felt. She'd been pining after her uncle even as a little girl and while it could never be – because of their family bonds and because they both were witches – she would still let herself dream sometimes. Of what it would be like having those luscious lips on hers, to run her hand through his dark hair, down his sizzled jawline and over that well-built body of his---
"Just wondering about something that happened earlier today," she told the Head Wizard of her coven, not giving her confession a second thought as he settled in and listened to everything she had to say. Of course, she didn't tell him about the "emotions" she'd experienced. Because quite frankly, she couldn't explain them. And it was unnatural of witches to experience anything like it.
"You should kill the babe," her uncle suggested--- and the unfamiliar emotion came back with a vengeance. "Blacken it and harness its powers."
Anger coiled through her and while she admitted she'd been thinking along those lines not too long ago, the idea now repulsed her. Hell, she held onto her chair for dear life not to fling herself across the table and hit her uncle until he was bleeding.
Chuckling, he picked up his cup and gave her a sly smile that sued to leave her panting. Now she wanted to slap it off his handsome face.
"You need to get some blood on your hands sooner or later, Bellatrix," Remy said so casually as if it was just another matter of life. "Your mother always protected you against that, but if you truly want to take her place as the most powerful witch in our coven, you need to do whatever it takes to become that."
And that meant having zero emotions or regards for anything or anyone…
"I'll think about it," she lied with a smile that matched his own, as she sipped her tea. But deep down she knew she couldn't do it. She'd never be able to do it. But if she didn't then she'd never take her mother's place.
She'd never be the most powerful witch.
But suddenly that seemed to pale in comparison to what it meant to be her sister's guardian. Because, as witches didn't feel emotions, they didn't feel pain or fear either. But that night Bellatrix kept tossing and turning in her bed. Thoughts of what her uncle had suggested haunted her and unease wouldn't let her mind or body rest.
Suddenly she bolted upright in her bed. The need to go see and check in on her sister had her rushing down the halls. It felt like she was trapped in some kind of nightmare. As if she'd experienced this before---
The night her mother died…
Something had been wrong. Something was in their house. Something bad. She'd walked down the halls back then too, only to find that---
Her mother had taken her own life!
No! No, suddenly Bella knew that that hadn't been the case. At that time, it had devastated her. That her mother had felt without as much as a goodbye. But like all witches she didn't let it bother her. She'd use the darkness it created and became stronger…
Only now---
She suddenly wasn't so sure, that her mother had died by her own hand. That when she entered her mother's bedroom, she hasn't been alone.
A black shadow…
Bellatrix threw the door to the nursery open and---
Time seemed to slip away as a black shadow loomed over the crib. She recognized that shadow!
It had killed her mother as well!
She screamed---
Only to open her eyes and realize that--- she was the one standing over the crib. She was looking down on her baby sister's bloodied form. And she was the one, holding a massive bloodied knife in her hand…
Her stepmother had entered next. Screaming and with tears streaming down her face she rushed to the crib. A gut wrenching scream tore from her lips as she picked up the body and held her close.
"What have you done?" Her stepmother screamed over and over again, as more and more people entered the room. All looking at her like---
Like she was some kind of monster…
"No…"
She wanted to scream. The terror pumping though her veins felt paralyzing. She felt numb and at the same time, it felt as if she felt too much. Her hands were shaking as the blood dripped from the knife and onto her skin. As if it had burned her, she dropped it, stepping back…
"WITCH!"
She looked up. They were all looking at her. All mixtures of horrified and disgusted expressions. Anger, pain and hatred---
Everything that used to fuel her powers now seemed to be robbing her of her will to live…
She shook her head.
No!
No…
It wasn't her…