Heart of the Bayou Beasts

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sted in my world if she expected something from me or had some unknown tick that I set off without even trying. I was often ducking as she heaved wh

dy at best, seedy was more like it, giving me voyeur vibes and prickling my skin with unease. I constantly pushed the extent of my power's growth down and attempted to not allow its strength to break the surface, meticulously, and not without effort, concealing it under layers of protection. She knew I was something special, so I had to show her and old man, Silas, enough to keep them from digging too deep,

al navigation I contacted him. When I told him I was in a bind and the blanketed accounts and properties needed to be secured so not even my guardian would ever be able to detect them, he did so. I was 12 at the time. My father had stated my word is law. He was

val. Over the years she fought to change his mind. It was a fruitless attempt. This was something extremely rare among witches to find someone you could uniquely bi

cestors would find their soul's match. Other bonds like that could only be forced by pow

. I forced my heart to slow as I entered the admin building of the local community college, acting as though I was a normal 20-year-old just closing out my credits for the summer semester. If I couldn't have my own life I was going to fill my brain with all the education my father always aspired for me to h

le rising in my throat and passed the receptionist my school ID. "I'm here to get copies of my transcripts please," I asked as I silently prayed my name didn't trigger his miscreant shitbagness to lift a finger. She began typing into her

ced my feet to move. I went to knock on the door, and it opened unexpectedly. Colin Draven had a way of disarming you with the simplest of gestures. His beady eyes peered down at me through thick round glasses, his hair i

keeping it from the surface. "Now Miss Le' Blanc, Why pray tell do you need copies of your transcripts? We both know you aren't going anywhere." I felt him lift a strand of my hair, I froze swallowing. It was then that I realized the blinds to the rest of the office were drawn leaving me

t a Le' Blanc to embrace the times." I couldn't let him bait me. The last time I had it out with him I was locked up for a week after a particularly intense beating. I couldn't afford that. It was ironic, forced bindings were considered taboo,. especially for witches as it disrupted the natural order of things. It also made some people go insane. He continued twirling my honey-brown lock of hair. "Y

he surface. Fish swam by unalarmed, as if she was a part of the environment herself, and I was at peace with her, a protective shadow cast above us looking down from the surface... they felt like my memories, yet they belonged to someone else. Whenever I sought out peace the child was there with one of the few memories she had

th the others, because his father's blood ran through his veins. He was a puppet too, but there was little he could do to aid our situation without breaching the contract and facing the oth

about the power of knowledge. It's how I honor his memory." It was only half a lie. "That sentiment is nonsense," he said, clicking his tongue. "I'll have your father's ideas stripped out of you. One way or another," He sneered. I gritted my teeth fighting the boil of my blood and the rush of magic that pushed full force toward the surface. "

fucking list,' I thought. I struggled with my will, it was as benevolent as the goddess who granted me my gifts. Or were they a curse? I didn't know anymore. Some days I fought the lure of surrender, only keeping my fathe

ng but she never doubted me. Zoe was a Wiccan, a human who worshiped and believed as the witches did without the gifts granted through our bloodlines. They didn't know about us, but I was more at home with her people than my own. She would be tutoring in the computer lab, the instructor had a class in another building at this hour. I just needed to hide from the world and gain control. I walked towards the restroom, ducking in as my mind continued replaying the scene that had just occurred, unable to purge it from the

ffice. I knew she saw me, her eyes burned into me with a sixth sense. Sometimes I wondered if she didn't have a gift. She just instinct

is face, curly black hair flying wildly like a halo of onyx chaos, rode beside us on a bay horse with a saddle and reins, as I lay over the neck of a black stallion. The muscles bunched and flexed beneath me as his legs worked at full gallop, hair flying freely in the summer breeze, the herd moving as one with us flowing freely across the prairie. Th

d. She walked across to the desk and grabbed a box of tissues handing them to me. "Bullshit," she said. I sighed. "You know that thing we talked about?" I asked. "Yeah, Sis I got you," she said. It was the most genuine thing I've ever heard and my entire b