[ BOOK TWO ]
Erin Gilbert's life had become one supernatural catastrophe after another, not that she should've expected any different when her sister's boyfriend and his brother turned out to be vampires.
The years of chaos that followed should have...
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SMUDGES OF BLACK charcoal consumed Erin's vision as she stared down at the forgotten sketches of Davina Claire. In the days that followed the disastrous Harvest ritual, her mind traveled elsewhere. More so, to an omen left behind by the young witch sacrificed in vain. After all, she found it hard to believe that Davina drew the long dead Celeste Dubois for no reason.
It begged many questions. Why did Davina draw the witch? How did she come to see her face after Celeste was dead for two hundred years? And lastly, why did she call the sketches evil?
There had to be an underlying cause. Nothing that happened in relation to witches came down to coincidence. Erin knew as much from personal experience.
Speaking of. Erin snatched her phone up from the floral blanket of Davina's bed and scrolled to reach a contact. She tapped it, holding the speaker up to her ear. The dial-tone rang for a few moments, before a near angelic voice answered.
"Hey, what's up?" Bonnie Bennett greeted her in an upbeat tone that Erin could never hope to forget.
Mystic Falls ran a similar course as New Orleans in the miraculous events departement. Erin didn't know the specifics, but her family and friends found a way to bring Bonnie back to life with a ritual. One that made her the Anchor between their world and the Other Side. Essentially, she existed in both plains at the same time, meaning she could be seen and felt by those living breathing.
Erin didn't want to know how it was possible or the logistics of how it came to be. She was just ecstatic that her best friend got a second chance at life. Because she knew if questions were raised, an issue would inevitably come to pass. Ignorance was bliss, and she intended to stay within its grasp for as long as possible.
Erin smiled, hearing her friend's voice. "God, I've missed this," she exclaimed through the call.
Bonnie chuckled. "Me, too. But - I'm on my way to class, so we can't talk more than a few minutes," she stated.
Erin adjusted her cross-legged position in the bed and said, "that's fine. I just have a question. A witchy question."
"Alright, spill it. Whatcha got?" Bonnie questioned in response.
"Okay, so - I don't know what you've heard about what's going on here, but we've had some problems with a coven of witches," Erin began with a huff. "Long story short, there's this witch, no more than sixteen, who was drawing pictures of this other witch, who's been dead for two hundred years. She had all this power from some ritual to help her coven reconnect with their ancestors, and I guess, connected to her. Anyway, she drew the dead witch's face a lot and called it evil. What's your take on that?"
