Ophelia had remained staring at the flowers for a while, and soon Mitchell’s  voice brought her back to reality. She stood up and dusted herself off a bit before nodding. “I’m fine.” She lied, but it was the normal exchange whenever she had lapses like this. They both knew she wasn’t okay, but it would be enough for now. However the next sight caught her off guard, and she saw Mitchell open his arms to her and he offered her a hug. Normally, Ophelia would have just scoffed and called him weird, but this time was different.

She wasn’t sure if it was because she was still vulnerable or just because the need for human touch was becoming unbearable with the nightmares coming, but she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head against his chest briefly. She was amazed at how quickly things just went away, and she closed her eyes. “Thank you.” She whispered.

The last time they were this close she had to force it’s end. She had been ill, and just weeks prior they had threatened to change her guard, but she fondly remembered the last bit of good before she had done what she had.

[I]She awoke late in the morning, finding herself in her bed. Her fever had broke finally, and she had slept better than she had almost the entire week. She looked to the chair to address Mitchell, but he wasn’t there, so she quietly got out of bed and grabbed a blanket from her closet. She carefully walked down the stairs, still feeling weak, and she spotted Mitchell asleep on the couch. Her lips turned up into a soft smile, seeing his book over his face, and she moved towards him.

She unfolded the blanket and covered him with it, carefully moving the book from his face, marking the page for him and setting it on the nearby table. She was taken a bit off guard by his face, how she’d never seen how… she snapped from her thoughts and grabbed a nearby pillow and sat at the very edge of the couch near his hip, and gave him a gentle shake. “Mitch? Lift your head so I can give you a pillow while I wash my bedding. Then you can sleep in my bed for a while.” She whispered and when she managed to place the pillow under his head, she moved away gently. She forced herself to look away from him and move into the kitchen and make herself some tea.[/i]

She moved away from Mitchell finally, and she began walking through the garden. She remembered the way her pillows smelled after he had slept in her bed, how she had preserved that pillow for when her nights got extremely bad. How it was hidden in her closet right now. Her own vice, but she didn’t understand why his scent calmed her so much. 

Then Mitchell commented on the garden, but before she could do anything or say anything the image of Checkov had filled her mind and she stifled a laugh. “You’re bad, Mitch. We both know that Checkov would look way better in purple.” She kidded back, her wall being down, even slightly, allowing a rare glimpse into her soft side. She stopped a moment before getting too close. “Plus, I wouldn’t rely on Kat letting Atticus wear any of her dresses, and these plants aren’t all gone.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the gusts of wind and pulling the magic from it and moving her hand in a bit of an odd manner and she saw the life begin to come back to the garden, but she stopped when she got half of it done, knowing she shouldn’t over exert herself. “it will take me a few days, but I can bring it back. There’s just too much, and it’s been so long since I’ve actually used this spell it will take a while for me to readjust.” 

She looked over the garden one last time before they got back over to Kat and Atticus and she stopped when she saw Atticus reading while Kat was working on her spell, and she cast another glance at Mitch. Was that what they were like, but she looked away when she felt it and excitement filled her. She tried so hard not to show it, and keep a cool face, but a small smile came over her face when Kat looked at her.

“You caught on quick. Good job, but there’s still a lot you have to learn. Keep practicing, really get the feeling of it embedded into you, you’ll need mastery for the next lessons.” She explained, walking over to a crate before grabbing a spell book up and her journal. She sat on the bench and began writing a few things in her journal as she read the book, but her mind was so hazy she gave up after a few minutes. A few rain drops began falling, and she looked to Mitch.

“Kat, try not to stay out too long, can’t afford you getting sick, and pick some of the wilting plants and place them in that crate, I have something to do, and will be back in a while.” She said, placing her this back in her crate and picking it up before she looked to Mitch. She began heading back to the cottage first, and once they got to the door, she placed the crate just inside the door and grabbed an umbrella that wasn’t too far off and opened it up once outdoors and she handed it to Mitch, walking at his side towards the castle.

She could see the carriages from the East Coven in the stables nearby, and she shook her head a bit. Checkov  had been trying to introduce her and Kathleen as his coven witches to the leader of the East coven for a while now, but she had been dancing around it, making excuses, purposely keeping lessons short when the coven was here. Now she had to make herself known. 

They got up to the castle, and once inside she closed the umbrella and set it near the door. She wasn’t properly dressed for the formal meetings she had with Checkov, but this would do for now. She began towards the main hall where she saw Checkov speaking with the leader of the East coven before his eyes caught sight of her. “Ophelia! Just who I was looking for.” He said, motioning her over. Ophelia cast a glance to Mitch before she stepped forward and headed towards Checkov who seemed almost surprised to see her.

“Forgive my intrusion, sir, but I do have a matter I need to discuss with you.” She stated her purpose, and Checkov gave a nod. 

“First, I have been waiting to introduce you to our neighbors to the East.” Checkov said, placing a hand on her shoulder, but once the shock crawled to his fingers he moved it away. A warning of sorts, but still he continued. “This is Ophelia Lockhart, one of my coven witches. But this meeting must be cut short, and you will be able to meet her and Kathleen better at the ball in a few weeks.”

The coven leader simply nodded and Checkov began walking with Ophelia down the main hall, his eyes casting a glance to her. “What would you like to discuss? It isn’t every day that you come to see me outside our weekly progress reports.”

Ophelia sighed a bit, “The dreams are coming back… I may need Atticus and Mitchell to stay with us until they pass.” She spoke, quite to the point and he nodded.

“Done.” He said, and Ophelia gave a surprised look. “On one condition, and one condition only. You two cannot be absent at the annual ball again this year. The East and South coven leaders have been wanting to meet the witches I brag about so much.” 

Ophelia gave him a look stopping in her tracks and he looked back at her. He had definitely won this round. “You’ll have to send your seamstresses to meet with us soon then, neither of us own anything ball worthy. Also, give us the day off to prepare, as Mitchell and Atticus shouldn’t see us until that night since they will be our escorts, no?”

Checkov smirked and nodded. “I will inform the elders. One week, any longer and you and I will have to meet with the elders.” He told her and she nodded before she moved back towards the exit, looking to Mitch. She felt like she had just made a deal with the devil himself, and she began walking rather quickly to get out of the castle. She saw the rain had picked up substantially, and her mind immediately drew her back to that day forty five years.

[I]It was storm of the century grade rain and thunder for sure, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped for very long they’d catch up to her again. Nothing had been easy for the last 55 years, not since she had finally gotten out of the Eastern vampire coven’s boundaries. It had been hell for sure, and what had the vampires done for her? Nothing. What had they done for the community? Nothing. They had just stood idly by as the hunters came and her world came crashing down. She had been so shut off, and so off the grid that she had forgotten that she eventually needed to find someone so she could rest and tend to her wounds.

The last hunting group had been about a day behind her when the storm blew in, but she had continued on in the forests. She wasn’t sure where she was, just if she stopped she would be in a lot of trouble. A voice brought her mind off of things. A second hunting group had to be after her too. “There she is!” the voice shouted, and despite being drenched and tired, she broke into a run to try to escape. She hadn’t eaten in days nor had she slept well, but her body forced itself to keep going.

The rain had picked up some more, but if she could just get to the nearby cemetery she’d be okay. There would be enough energy there to keep her magic flowing without over exerting herself. She managed to make it to the gates before she was surrounded by four men with guns and flashlights pointed at her. “Give up, you know we will always get our prisoner. We don’t even want to kill you anymore.” The leader of this group said. “Our boss wants to study you, Lockhart. Being the last witch of your lineage that died out oh, 86 years ago.”

Her eyes looked them over, no warmth or remorse in them. “I’d rather die.” She spat, holding up her hand and watching as the gates to the cemetery opened. She ran in, hoping that she had found a good mausoleum to hide out in for a while as she prepared her spell.

“18 counts of murder, practicing witchcraft, aiding and abetting those also guilty of practicing witchcraft, and 17 counts of arson. Quite a list for our little Necromancer.” The hunter cackled, “Or should I call you the Death Witch. Everyone else has before.”

She closed her eyes and forced herself out of the mausoleum, seeing that there were now eight hunters. She must not have been as far ahead of the other group as she thought. “I told your leader long ago that he had made a mistake when he made me an enemy for humanity…” she began and soon she began muttering an incantation and a few corpses came forth and began fighting the hunters, but she was so weak she fell to the ground, trying to maintain the spell. Then she saw more figures come and the hunters were dead or fleeing not long after. A man with cool grey eyes approached her, and she scrambled up, breathing heavily. 

“My dear, what is your name?” his smooth voice came, fangs protruding. She hadn’t ever seen this vampire before, but then again she hadn’t been in the east coven’s territory for a long time. 

“Ophelia Lockhart.” She answered and he nodded.

“Ophelia, my dear, my name is Checkov, I am the leader of the vampire coven whose territory you are now in. I must insist you come with me. We have much to discuss.” He said, offering his hand to her, and she looked at him before backing up.

“I don’t trust you, or your kind. Where were you when New Salem burned?!” she wasn’t doing so well remaining calm. 

“Unlike my colleague, I respect witches and protect them. All witches have power unique to their kind, and my only wish is to help you.” He said, stepping towards her. “You’ve been running for half a century, if not more, wouldn’t it be nice to not have to constantly look over your shoulder for these hunters?”

Ophelia fixated him with a hard stare. “What do you expect in return?” she inquired, but by the look on Checkov’s face, she could tell he felt he had won. Because he had her interest. 

“All I ask is for help, and your steady judgment in certain matters. I plan to make you my coven witch.” He informed her, and finally Ophelia gave in. “Good, and I have the perfect guard for you. You will meet him tomorrow after we get you settled.”

“A guard is unnecessary.” She said.

“Nonsense. I always protect my own.”[/i]

Ophelia shook the memory from her mind and looked up to Mitchell. “When we get back, you and Atticus will have to prepare a week’s worth of clothes and necessities to stay with us. Kat and I will get the sleeping arrangements put together. I’m none to happy about the cost of this, but it is necessary that you and Atticus stay with us.” She said, opening the umbrella and beginning the trek back. “I can’t believe he doesn’t remember me.” She muttered.

--

Atticus was getting rather into the book, his eyes occasionally glancing up to see Kat focusing on her spell. He gave a soft smile, but what surprised him was what he heard. He could hear Lia and Mitchell talking, very faintly, and she had stifled a laugh. Soon the two had returned, and when he saw Kat look up at Ophelia, he could see her excitement too. She rarely smiled, Lia did, but she was then and the compliment that came after was another surprise. Despite her moods this morning, whatever happened when the two linked brought a rare bit of her soft side out it seemed.

He went back to his book when Ophelia began working on whatever the hell it was she was working on, but when she gave up and spoke he could feel the rain droplets coming. He had nodded. “No one will be getting sick on my watch.” He smirked, but he watched them walk away and he stood, picking some of the wilting plants from the garden as she had directed. Perhaps the lesson would continue at the cottage or perhaps she had just wanted them to create new herbal compounds. He really didn’t care, he just knew that they needed to be picked.

He placed what he had picked in the crate, and once the rain began picking up more, he looked to Kat. “We better head in.” he said to her, offering her his hand and taking off his jacket and putting it on her before he lifted the crate and headed back know towards the cottage. His mind wasn’t too there as he headed back though.

[I]The library had been lonely the last week, but there was nothing out there for him except for death and more hunger. He hadn’t fed in a week now, but that wasn’t what was bothering him. It was the fact the moon had remained full enough for the wolves to transition. 

He heard the door open, and he brought his weakening form out of his sitting state and he jumped on the person that had entered, forcing his mouth over their neck, pulling their energy from them before something moved him away. He looked up and saw another man there. “Calm down, boy, we aren’t here to hurt you.” He said, and Atticus looked up to him. He could tell he was lying, but the energy he had drained from the first had him feeling stronger and less feral.

“I would say the same, but I was taught to not lie to those I don’t know.” He quipped, and soon forced the  man out of the door and into the sunlight. He had been in there so long he hadn’t known the difference in time of day, but still the man shot at him, and when the bullet pierced his arm, he simply watched the wound heal and he turned to the man and forced him into a nearby tree.

“What are you?” the hunter asked, but Atticus had snapped his neck and left him there.

“You worst nightmare.” He muttered as he began on his trek towards the coven he had heard of when the West Coven fell. The man, Checkov, who ran the coven had another vampire like him in his ranks and he figured it would be the best place to learn more about himself because he didn’t remember his past before the west coven, and he was curious.[/i]

Atticus shook the thought from his mind as he and Kat entered the cottage, and he set down the crate next to the one Opelika had set in the cottage. He sighed, taking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen, putting on some water for tea and some coffee as well.

“Kat, we should surprise them and make something for lunch.” He said, grabbing one of the bright pink aprons and putting it around his middle. “How do I look?” he asked. He wiggled his eyebrows for her a bit before rummaging through some cabinets and pulling out stuff to make… well, god knows what. He then walked over to the stereo that was never used and pushed it on, so weird old music coming out of it. Dance music it sounded like, but he quickly found something more upbeat and smiled.

He was far from a good cook, but he did know how to make kitchen sink soup, and soup right now sounded like a good idea. “So, Kat, are you going to come help me with this?” he asked, and he found himself cutting up some vegetables and throwing them in a pot with all sorts of stuff he had found in the cabinet.

Mitch and Ophelia would probably still be gone for a bit, depending on what was going on, so he had time to get this really going. The music had him dancing about the kitchen like an idiot, but he knew Kat wouldn’t mind too much, and soon he was making himself his overly seer tend tea, sitting at the counter with the pink apron still around his waist. “So, Kat, what else should we make?”