“Mom?” I hear Vithar whisper incredulously.

“Hi, honey,” she responds, walking toward me and wrapping me in a tight hug. Well, she wraps my waist in a hug anyway. I am quite a bit taller than her.

My confusion only builds, but I return the hug slowly before we break away. “Hey. I, uh, wasn't expecting you,” I say.

“I said I'd see you soon.”

“I thought that was more of a colloquialism. Like, 'see you soon but not really.'”

“Well, you weren't coming to see me, so I came to see you,” she says. “Who's your friend?” She points at Vithar, who has remained wide-eyed and quiet.

I crease my brow looking at him. He's just staring at her with his mouth open.

“This is Vithar. And I'm sure he'll close his mouth in a second.” He closes his mouth and I look back at her. “See? He's a friend, but also like a live-in guest at the moment? We're getting it figured out.”

“Hello, Vithar,” she says.

“Hello, Ma'am,” he responds, inclining his head.

“Oh, a colonizer?”

“Ma'am?” he asks. He's still eyeing her.

“British,” she says.

“Stop being weird,” I say to him. “So, what's going on with this?” I make a sweeping gesture at her.

“What do you mean? The outfit?”

“No, you look younger. Like you're maybe only a few years older than me.”

“Oh, I found a good beauty regimen.” Vithar snorts a laugh then covers his mouth. Her attention turns to him and she glares at him with a look I am all too familiar with. “You think it's working?” The tone of her question drips with a venomous challenge.

“Yes Ma'am,” he responds, all traces of mirth now gone.

I look between them. There's something weird going on here that I don't understand.

“Why did you burst through my door?” I ask.

“I didn't burst. I came in forcefully.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

“Are you even glad to see me?” she asks. “What's with the third degree?” She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me with a false frown of sadness.

“Don't change the subject, and of course I am, I just wasn't expecting it. What made you come all the way here?”

“It sounded like you needed me,” she says, softening her stance. “I told you I had a feeling. I couldn't ignore it.”

I honestly had forgotten about it. I knew I had a sense of foreboding before I'd met up with the Hellhound, but I had forgotten it was from her. Her clairvoyance would have helped me better prepare if I had paid attention to it. I usually show it the proper deference, but this time I didn't.

“I remember now. You helped me be on guard more–though not with what I thought.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“Well,” I say. “Do you remember what I told you about last winter?

“I do, but you were pretty vague on most of the details.”

“Well, my father has other kids. My sister targeted me as a patsy, and I had to fight her. I also fought with two demons that wanted my father's position in the Pit.”

She looks at Vithar, and he shrugs. “It's true,” he says.

“I got one of the demons killed, maimed another, and my sister's demon ate her.”

“Ate her?”

She looks at him again with a furrowed brow and gets the same gesture.

“Yeah, but more recently, I've been worried about the demon that got away. My friend's mind is scrambled all to hell, and a Hellhound is here and it probably wants to fight me again,” I say without taking a breath.

She points at Vithar, and he shakes his head from side to side.

“No, not him. It's my friend, Anna. Her boyfriend was attacked by the Hellhound, and there's some kind of magic rewriting her memories in real time. She couldn't focus while we were all in danger, and she keeps forgetting things right after they happen.”

She waits for me to keep going, but I'm finished.

“Well, that's quite an eventful tale.”

“'An eventful tale'? You make it sound like it's not real.”

“That's not my intention, even if I am hoping you're embellishing a little?”

Vithar and I shake our heads no.

“Just a touch?”

“No. And, honestly, I wish I were.”

She sighs, walks over to my couch, and takes a seat.

“You didn't tell me it was that bad,” she says. “What's the plan?”

“Uhhh,” I look at Vithar for help, but he has suddenly decided he needs to go into another room. He walks into the kitchen first, then back out and up the stairs.

Traitor.

“I was trying to get him to help,” I say, shoving my thumb in the direction he just left. “But he's got his own stuff going on, and I definitely don't want to push it after he played therapist for me yesterday.” I should maybe apologize for where our conversation was going before she showed up. I was pushing a lot more than I meant to.

“Therapist?”

“I gave you an abbreviated version of my year–he got the whole story.”

“You could tell me too,” she says, looking into my eyes.

“I know, mom. And I will. Just–not yet. Okay?”

“Alright,” she says, frowning and looking down, “Well, what did you need him to do?”

“First, I'd like to see if I have another brother or sister in town. When Christine was… speaking to me, she said that the only one who needed his power was her. That the rest of us didn't. So I can only assume he fathered other children, and that they could want to come after me like she did.” Saying 'speaking to me' felt easier. Mostly because I really don't want to get into Christine's melting death in my arms. “I feel like that would help me at least check one thing off my list.”

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“Okay, and how would you do that?”

“Last time, Vithar did a spell. It was like a locating spell that took my blood and looked for another person with the same paternal link.”

“And he won't do it again?”

“No, not right now. Like I said, he's working through some stuff.”

“Sure,” she says, then shrugs. “Do you want me to do it?” she asks casually.

“Yeah,” I say with a laugh, then realize she isn't joking. “You–what?”

“Do you want me to do the spell?”

“Is that something you're able to do?” I ask, her question leaves me confused.

“Yes, dear. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't.”

“You can do magic?”

“No, I can't 'do magic,” she says with a sour look on her face. “Doing magic is for hucksters and Vegas shows. What I can do is more nuanced. But I can definitely cast a locating spell. Especially if it involves your blood–or blood at all.”

I suddenly start to get that eerie feeling again. First, while she could definitely be telling the truth–and I say this because I know she had ties to the more supernatural side of the world before I was around–I've never asked, and she's never shown any magical capabilities. Maybe I just missed it? Or perhaps, maybe I'd have known if I was a better son. We had some disagreements and fights when I was younger. I was positive I could do everything on my own and nearly cut her out of my life. It was around this same time that I, in my ignorance, tried to summon my demon father–and failed miserably.

Second, and this one is slightly more important, she seems real chill about using my blood for a spell. Not that she should shy away from it or anything like that. But this woman used to seem queasy when I'd get hurt as a kid and she was cleaning my wounds. Am I to believe that she's fine with it now? When I felt someone at the door, I didn't know it was her. I had always felt her near before, but I hadn't experienced her aura yet with my new understanding of the ability. If she were eager to get my blood, however, would I have felt the anger and worry? Lastly, and this scares me more than I would like to admit, perhaps she's not even my mother and I'm being tricked somehow. I will move forward with apprehension until I am sure.

“That was a really odd way to put it,” I say finally. She frowns, bobs her head from side to side, shrugs her shoulders and throws up her hands.

“Probably,” she says, “but there wasn't really a way to ease you into the fact that I have the ability to do this. I can cast something as small as a location spell, no problem. I can't cast with the same potency as Vithar's people. But what I can do involves what some would consider to be… sinister means,” she says slowly, eyeing me.

“You mean like heta–hema–hemata.” I snap my fingers. “Hematomancy!” I exclaim, happy I could remember the term. It was explained to me last year that hematomancy, or blood magic, is a form of magic that the wizard's guild frowns upon. It doesn't make bad wizards, but just about every bad wizard uses it.

“Something like that,” she smiles, “But more . . . Mm . . . natural.”

“Are you a druid?” I ask, excitedly.

“No. They aren't seen as sinister. At least not by anyone in the present day. The Romans considered them sinister, but that's because, well, they were The Romans.”

“Are you a . . . Like a witch?” I ask, even more interested.

“That is definitely a name for it. You seem more absorbed by that than I thought you would be. It doesn't bother you?”

“I'm an adult. When I was an impressionable young kid, maybe yeah, but not now. I've been dealing with demons, wizards, and all manner of things that go bump,” I say.

She smiles and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I never should've doubted you, my boy,” she says and stands up. “Will you let me perform this for you?”

“Hell yeah!” I yell, standing up as well. I wrap her in another tight hug, lifting her off the ground slightly this time. “Thank you, mom,” I say, setting her down and breaking the hug.

“I'll need a few things.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Some of your blood, a small animal to sacrifice, eye of newt, puppy dog tails. You know, the usual.”

“Funny,” I say flatly, and she laughs.

“I've got the things I need with me always. I just meant I'll have to go out to the rental car.”

“Oh. Right. I'll just clear off the table,” I grumble while she walks outside. I catch movement in my periphery. It's Vithar, peeking around the corner while I am picking up the plate that he left on the table. “Are you coming out to play now? What was up with that disappearing act?”

“Your mom, she has a, uh, disturbing feeling about her.”

“Oh, yeah? Why's that?” I say, walking past him and into the kitchen to put the dish into the sink.

“It's like nothing I've ever felt before.”

“Really? Aren't witches and wizards the same?”

“Tch,” he scoffs. “Maybe in that TERF's books they are.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “I had no idea you were so inclined to take issue with something like that.”

“Meh,” he shrugs. “There are enough problems in this world without making an issue of what others do. People need to learn to mind their own business.” I nod my head in agreement, My thoughts on the matter are much the same. “Anyway,” he continues. “Witches and wizards in real life are not so much the same. Wizards are revered in stories while witches have been vilified.”

“Hm, if I didn't know she was a witch, I would assume you guys were the same.

“I wouldn’t call her a witch. I've met witches. Her energy isn't even the same as theirs. Be careful. It seems too convenient.”

I was just thinking about that myself. Damn. Even if it's too convenient, it works. I’m just glad she is here and can help me in the exact way I need. I mean, it's my mom. I should be able to trust that. But her arrival does beg the question, how did she know? Sure, there’s her clairvoyance, but she led me to what I needed with very pointed questions–and I let it happen even after telling myself I would be apprehensive. I will have to just ask her and watch her aura.

“Yeah, you're right.” I throw away the wrappers that were piled on the table too and look at him.

“I was gonna finish cleaning it up.”

“Sure,” I say. I pull out my phone and call my mom's number. Hopefully this will be enough to convince myself. I just need to be sure.

“Yes?” she asks in answer.

“I cleared off the table,” I say in relief. My tension eases and shoulders relax. “Do you need more space than that?”

“That couldn’t wait until I was back inside?” She asks, sounding mildly annoyed, but she doesn’t wait for an answer. “No, that'll be enough. Just make sure your friend doesn't cloud the area with all of his nervous energy.”

“I can promise nothing.”

I watch her press her thumb to her phone to end the call as she walks back in with a duffel bag over her shoulder. I laugh to myself. We both keep a duffel bag ready. She opens the bag and sets things out for the ritual while I watch. I am amazed at how much it resembles watching Kai set up for his rituals. This includes lighting incense, but she used to do that all the time when I was living with her, too. Pouring a salt circle on the table, she draws shapes inside the thick lines and puts a bowl in the middle, filling it with a small amount of liquid from a canteen.

“Let me see your finger,” she says, holding out a hand. I hate getting my finger pricked, so I offer the bottom of my palm. She pokes it with a needle, and I squeeze the sides until two drops of blood fall in. Vithar is standing in the room now, apparently done hiding, and watches the process. Swirling the liquid and blood, it turns from a translucent brown, to a murky maroon. I feel her offer a small amount of her energy into the concoction and begin chanting.

Then, it hits me.

I feel naked and exposed. I feel like everyone in the world is watching me. Like I'm the subject in some Truman Show-esque display. I fold in on myself and shudder as the energy passes over me. This is… powerful. When Vithar did a location spell for me to find Christine, it didn't feel like this at all. Is this the strength of blood magic in the hands of someone who has performed it before? Why is it so goddamned strong? I huff out a labored breath, and she looks at me while finishing her chant. I know deep in my bones that if she wanted to, she could take control of my body with this. She could gain the use of my demonic half. Hematomancy is for real. If I can help it, I will never let this happen again.

As she raises her hands, the liquid rises out of the bowl and spreads out, making a design on the table and building up from it like a 3-D printer. It spreads and spreads, making a map of the whole city. It traces along everything, from downtown to the suburbs. As the magic paints a picture in front of me, the oppressive weight that I was feeling dissipates. The picture changes to a map of my street, spreading out to fill the same area the entire city map had just moments before. It shows two dots within my house, and they are pulsing with a dim red light.

“That's us,” she says. “There's no one else who shares blood with you in the entire area.”

“Wow,” I respond, astonished. I've heard it said many times that advanced technology beyond your comprehension is indistinguishable from magic. Well, this magic just looked like a holographic projection. It was magic that looked like science. And it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

My mom is so cool.