He lives alone, with only an albino cat for company. Witches, traditionally, are said to have owned only black cats, but he has never been fond of the fairy tales. And he is not a witch, anyway. The cat is his familiar, his kin, and he treats it like he would a sibling.
When he arrives at the house, he dumps his school bag in the living room and makes for his bedroom, where he stows away his diary of useful spells and his innermost thoughts. The cat follows him.
Before he takes out his pen and begins to write, he raises his hands over his head, calling on his power, and murmurs words that would sound foreign to you; he casts a spell of protection around the ancient household, where one of the mundane would simply use keys, because he isn't keen on the idea of using the humans' banal utensils. He has his own ways.
"Sister," he says to the cat, who narrows its glowering red eyes and prepares to spring. Its limbs tense as it leaps up onto the bed, and sits by the boy's side as he sifts through the yellowed pages of his diary. He licks parched lips and lifts his pen to paper, his words coming fast.
The girl is more powerful than she knows, he writes, but she is oblivious to the dangers she will face. It will almost be too easy.
There is one stupid mortal boy who would possibly attempt to meddle, he thinks. A hunter. But, he reminds himself, the interference will only make his job more amusing. A grim smile spills over the face of the boy as he slams the book closed, returning it to its hiding place: under his bed.
He will certainly enjoy his next task.
YOU ARE READING
Starlight
RomanceHe is the hunter of all supernatural. She is a witch whose powers are at their peak. And somehow they find love. Well, sort of.
