Of Witches and Warlocks: The Complete Series

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was two o'clock in the morning. The members of the coven had all gone, and I was sitting at Grandma's kitchen table with dad and her.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked me sweetly, as if nothing was even amiss.

"Oh, I have questions," I replied a bit loudly, my irritation getting the better of me. "A lot of them!"

"Well, start asking," Dad said, patiently. "That's what we're here for."

"I thought we were Christians, for one thing," I stated, pulling the first thought that came to my head. Even though our family had never been what people would consider super religious, my whole upbringing and belief system was being challenged. "Or were all the times we went to church just part of the illusion the two of you created?"

"We are Christian, Portia. All of that is true. We've never tried to lead you astray in that regard," Dad stated calmly. "Being a witch is part of who we are, our genetic makeup, if you will. It doesn't take away our belief system. We've always believed in God and Jesus."

"I thought witches worshipped some goddess or something." I realized I knew absolutely nothing about witchcraft other than what I'd seen in stories, movies, or heard in history class.

"Some covens do," Grandma explained with a nod of her head. "It's the same as any belief system anywhere. The people choose what religion they believe and what they're comfortable with. Ours happens to be full of Christian people, and we choose to believe in God as our higher power. But we also believe that magic can come from many different elements and directions—even some involving other religious beliefs."

"Okay." I let that sink in for a moment. I guess it made sense, sort of.

"What else do you want to know?" my dad asked, and I knew I had to find out about the next thing, or my curiosity would kill me.

"Vance Mangum," I said, not a question but a statement.

My dad sighed and sat back in his chair, shaking his head slightly.

"Vance has been a member of the coven since he came here two years ago," Grandma said, when my dad didn't answer. "His aunt's in our coven also. You met her tonight, the woman named Marsha. Only she isn't exactly his aunt."

"What do you mean?" I was totally curious.

"Vance is under the protection of our coven," Dad spoke up.

"For what reason?"

"We're hiding him . . . " he hesitated for a second before continuing, "from his father."

"What? Why?" I demanded.

"It's Vance's story to tell," Grandma interrupted. "But please trust us, Portia. His father is a very bad man."

"Is Vance a . . . a," I faltered for the right word, "a warlock then or not?"

"He's one of the most powerful warlocks I've ever seen at his age," Dad answered truthfully. "I've never encountered powers like his in someone so young, or even in most adults."

I grabbed my head between my hands and rubbed my temples, resting my elbows on the table. My mind was throbbing with unanswered questions, but there was just too much to comprehend all at once.

"Why don't we all go to bed?" Grandma suggested, squeezing my shoulder. "We can talk more about this tomorrow. Let's get some rest for now. The two of you are welcome to stay here tonight."