This book is based and inspired by the Originals, with a tinge of the Vampire Diaries. I suggest that you watch the shows to understand some occurrences.
All rights go to The Originals television show on the CW, and Lisa Jane Smith (the author), except the characters and events that are purely of my imagination. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, OR ELSE YOU'LL BE REPORTED.
I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT IF ANYONE IS COPYING SECTIONS FROM THIS BOOK THAT ARE OF MY INVENTION, PLEASE TAKE ACTION.
(UNEDITED)
I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M ON CHAPTER TWENTY! *GASP*
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The song of the chapter is: Together (Eragon | Major Motion Picture)
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CHAPTER TWENTY ― BABYSITTING IS A BITCH
SOMEHOW, DON'T ASK ME how, I find myself in front of the grimoire. Esther's grimoire, to be exact. Upon instinct, almost like my body demanded to find a source of comfort, any comfort at all, it inches towards the book that she used to keep close to her heart, almost as close as the love that she held for her children.
I spread my palm over the cover of the grimoire and exhale shakily, imagining her here. It felt so real, so warm, that I had to remind myself that Esther wasn't really here, it was just the remaining warmth from Elijah's hands as he ripped out a page from the book.
A small smile makes its way on my face as I imagine her own if she ever found out that her children were ripping ― for good intents, nevertheless ― pages out of her beloved legacy. I missed her so much at this moment that a solitary pang rang through my dead heart.
"Ah!" Hayley yells. I quickly turn around and spot her gripping her neck. For a millesimal second, a flash of enjoyment at her pain races through me. But as quickly as it appears, I am stupored back into my senses. "Hayley?" I ask worriedly.
She removes her fingers from her neck, and even from this distance, the familiar metallic scent of blood wafts through my nostrils. "What the hell was that?" I furrow my eyebrows. "Hell if I know." She snaps.
A jolt of irritation goes through me and I press my lips into a single line and mutter stoically: "call me if you need me." I am ready to walk out of the room and up into my bedroom, but I pause next to the grimoire. On a split second decision, I pick it up and sandwich it between my arms and my body.
Maybe it is time that I learn about Esther's other, darker side.
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Blood of a cow
Leaf of mint
Heart of goat . . .
I slam the book closed, letting out a shudder. Esther definitely did not act like a mother when it came to these things. But on deeper reflection, I can't exactly blame her. I mean, if those ingredients made the spell work, the spell worked.
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