Mythfits

27-Steve

My dreamy state lasted until the evening, around the time Ethan burst into my room.

"Steve! Steve!" He calls, launching into the air and shifting, flying over to where I lay sprawled on my bed, dazedly trying to figure out how I'm going to get a bottle of Holy Water without going in a church. Which would not end up well for anyone. Shifting back, he lands on my stomach with the full force of a falling second grader.

"Oof." I grunt, trying to sit up and shove him off, neither of which work.

Shifting back and forth between forms sporadically, he alternately crawls through my hair as a young bat and pokes me in the nose. "Hey Steve! Guess what? Guess what!" Ethan yells excitedly, then shifts to hang upside down in front of my face, hanging onto my bangs.

"Enough." Smiling at my easily excitable younger brother, I gently pry him off my head, and hold him cupped in my hands, his small furry body quivering in excitement. "Either calm down enough to shift back and tell me, or go fly around until you've spent your energy."

The young bat in my hands nods once then launches into the air, only to smack straight into the ceiling fan and fall right back down onto my bed where he shifts back, rubbing his head. "Ow." He pouts for a second, then immediately brightens again, "Oh, hey Steve, I lost a tooth!" Ethan tilts his head back, opening his mouth to show me the gap in his teeth near the back of his mouth.

"Indeed you did." I confirm, pausing as an idea starts to form in the back of my head. "Hey, Ethan, do you still have the rest of the teeth you've lost?" In true, strange-younger-brother fasion, Ethan had decided at a young age that teeth were to be collected and stored. And so he kept every tooth he lost, as well as many smaller teeth that I assume he collected off of dead animals. If he still had one of his old fangs, then I could give that to Ella like I had promised.

"Can I see them?"

A nod of confirmation has me cheering silently- now the only thing left to do was figure out where to get holy water. Oh. The reminder stops my silent cheering and reminds me that I made this promise while punch-drunk on a pep rally- why was this a good idea? Traditionally, you'd go to a catholic church for holy water, which is not the greatest of ideas in my case. Yeah, you know the legend of crosses warding off vampires? While not entirely accurate (my uncle regularly attends a presbyterian church in Nebraska), quite a few of the more ritualistic elements normally found in catholic churches either make us mildly uncomfortable, or cause us to break out in a rash (like holy water). Sure, it's not quite the deadly vampire protection that folklore depicts it as, but imagine a severe case of poison ivy wherever we come in contact with it.

Physically going to a catholic church out of the picture, a quick google search later reveals that you can bless holy water in your very own home. It comes with a warning against using it for sacrilegious purposes, and I wonder briefly if a vampire making holy water to use in a pagan potion to heal a werewolf's sister counts as sacrilegious. It'll be fine, I decide, after all- it's for healing, not anything dark or evil. And if God really did create all things, that includes vampires, sirens, and magic- right?

Essentially, sanctifying holy water is a combination of mixing fancy salt with fancy water, and then talking over it all. A lot. You get salt, you pray over salt. You get water, you pray over water. You mix the salt and the water, then pray over the mixture. You exorcise the water, then pray over it again. Simple enough, I figure, if a bit tedious, now all I need to do is find where our salt is kept.