Delilah Recovered **2017 Watty Winner**

chapter fifteen

When Delilah regained consciousness, she was laying in the four-poster bed in the room at Samuel's mansion. Her forehead felt like it was a piece of wood and someone was pounding a rusty nail into it.

The door opened and she heard heavy footsteps. She slowly opened her eyes to find her father, Devlin, holding a glass of water looking concerned. He set it down on the nightstand and helped her sit up.

He sat down on the bed. He placed his hand on her leg. "Delilah, I'm so sorry."

She crossed her arms. "For what? For letting me think you were both dead? For not telling me that I'm a witch? Or that witch hunters were trying to kill me? Or that my mother is dead?"

"For all of it," he replied looking away from her. "For all of it." He rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I can't imagine that you'd believe that we were just..."

"Trying to protect me," she interrupted. "The more everyone tries to protect me the more people seem to get hurt. All I want is the truth."

"Then the truth you shall receive." He stood up. "Are you hungry? I think the truth will go down better if you have some food in you." He offered her a hand and gently helped her out of the bed.

They walked to the kitchen in silence. Delilah was surprised to find that it was empty. No Samuel. No Mrs. Fairfax. No fallen angels or feisty fairies.

She sat down and watched her father as he carefully made two sandwiches. He didn't ask her what she wanted, he assembled two turkey sandwiches leaving off mayonnaise on one of them. He remembered she hated mayo. Sitting down, he placed a plate in front of her. She watched as he folded his hands, closed his eyes, mouthing a silent prayer.

To her surprise, she was hungry. While they ate, he put his hand on her shoulder and he held it there. She was conflicted by this display of intimacy from him. Half of her wanted to pull away from him like a petulant teenager and the other half wanted to crawl into his lap. In the end, she didn't pull away from him.

A shot of adrenaline hit her. "Why didn't the hunters kill me?" She asked setting her sandwich down.

Devlin wiped the crumbs off his hands. "The Sect is on another mission now. One that involves more than killing one witch."

"I don't understand."

"They stole the page from our grimoire. The one Maria gave you. That page will eventually lead them to uncover what the D'Arc family has kept hidden since The Hundred Years' War the power to command good and evil."

"And I led them right to it and handed it over on a silver platter," she said the realization washing over her like a shower running from warm to ice cold.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "At this point, they don't know exactly what they have. They only know they have something. They can't use the spell without the ring."

"Guardian of the ring?" Delilah said.

Devlin shot her a confused look.

"Melia translated it for us."

"Does Mahai know about the page?" He asked the concern rising in his voice.

Delilah nodded. She felt like a child getting called out by her teacher for giving the wrong answer. "Did I mess up?"

Devlin shook his head and said, "You need answers." Then started rooting around the kitchen looking for a wine fridge. "And I need wine."

After he found a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, he suggested that they go sit outside in the garden. Bursting with several varieties of roses, hidden stone paths, it was a proper English garden. The sun was setting over the surrounding high rises. It was a pleasant night with a nice cool breeze off the lake. Waiting for her father to talk, Delilah sipped her wine. It tasted like summer, with hints of citrus, herbs and a creamy finish. For a fleeting second, life almost seemed normal.

"Look, I can't begin to imagine what you are going through," he said, downing his wine in one gulp. "And I sure as hell know that words aren't going to make it any better."

He poured another glass of wine. "Maria's funeral is set for tomorrow."

"Already?" She asked, her voice cracking. It was too much to process. She had just found Maria and now she had to plan her funeral and say goodbye again. It didn't make sense.

"We bury our souls right away to prevent them from getting lost in this world," he explained. "But our coven is refusing to give her a proper burial."

"Can't we find a funeral home."

"We aren't like humans. Without a proper witch burial, her soul won't transition onto Summerland. Her spirit will be stuck in purgatory," he explained. "She's suffered so much in this life, her soul deserves to rest."

"And Summerland is?"

"It's an eternal summer between heaven and earth. It's the waiting area for our souls before returning to earth. "

"Why won't our coven bury her?" She asked knowing that she didn't want to hear the answer.

"The D'Arc's have fallen out of favor with our coven." He got up and began to pace around the patio. "They're demanding that you unify, that you swear your fealty to Ascent."

"I don't get it. Wasn't I born a D'Arc? Born into Ascent?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "Yes, yes you were. This is why we tried in vain to hide you from them." He said kneeling in front of her and placing his hands on her knees. "Why we sacrificed so much, so you could have your own life." His voice rising in frustration. "To end up here, it's not what we wanted for you."

"What did you want for me then?

"We wanted you to be free to live a normal life."

Delilah snickered. "And in what world would that have even been remotely possible? Did you guys think you could outmaneuver a prophecy?" She met his eyes and with a hard gaze hissed, "And all I wanted was my mom and my dad."

Devlin sat down and poured more wine. "It was ill-conceived at best, but we thought we were doing the right thing."

She paused. "I'll do it." She said drinking the rest of her wine. "I'll unify or whatever."

He moved closer to her and she could smell the sweet wine on his breath. "Before you agree, you must understand what it means. You're making a sacred vow."

"I don't understand."

"You can't turn back once you unify your life belongs to our coven, you'll live in service to Ascent."

Delilah and Devlin sat up talking through the night. Once the sky turned from an inky black to purple, he left her alone after he provided her an out. The D'Arc family owned a home in Dormey France he explained placing an envelope with a passport, a stack of euros on the table. Telling her it was time for her to decide, they had all made enough decisions on her behalf.

As she made her way into the house, Devlin's words rang in her ears. "It was time for her to decide," she whispered to herself. The decision in front of her was to run and save herself or was to stay and sacrifice herself. She was being asked to give up everything for a family for a coven that had turned away from her. There was much she didn't know about this world. Up till now, she had only experienced death and deceit.

Delilah sat in the chair in her room, opened the envelope and a piece of parchment paper fell out. Written in calligraphy, were the following words, "Every man gives his life for what he believes. Every woman gives her life for what she believes. Sometimes people believe in little or nothing, and so they give their lives to little or nothing. One life is all we have, and we live it as we believe in living it...and then it's gone. But to surrender who you are and to live without belief is more terrible than dying – even more terrible than dying young. Joan of Arc. The Maiden of Orleans. 1431."