A Gift of Three by Bella Forrest
“Mom, Dad?” I peered around the kitchen door, finding them both playing an old-fashioned board game that they’d originally bought for my brother. Downtime from GASP duties sure made my parents creative at ways to entertain themselves.
“There you are!” my mom exclaimed. “Do you want to play? I’m beating your father, and he’s not liking it.”
I looked unenthusiastically at the board game.
“I’ll pass,” I replied. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
My voice had come out a bit too squeaky, and my dad’s eyes narrowed.
“I know that voice—what do you want?” he replied.
“That’s not fair!” I said immediately. “I really did just want to talk to you both.”
Dad leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and eyed me warily. My mom rose from the table, shooting Dad a meaningful look, and smiled brightly at me.
“We’re listening,” she replied.
“Good,” I replied, suddenly all business. The way forward was getting Mom on my side, and then she could reason with Dad. “So I’ve been thinking more about applying to universities, and there are a couple of open days that I’d like to attend, just to get a feel for the different campuses and see what—”
“Where are these universities?” my dad asked quickly.
“Tejus,” my mom interjected. “Let her speak.”
“All over North America, Dad, you know that. And you know that I want to study the traditional way, but I just can’t here.”
My dad nodded silently, but his brows were still furrowed.
“I think it’s a good idea,” my mom replied, pursing her lips at Dad. “I’m glad that you’re taking your education seriously, and we both want the best for you—let’s have a look at the dates.”
I handed her my notepad in relief. As I’d hoped, Mom was on my side. It would just be a matter of getting Dad there too.
“Dad, please can you be reasonable about this?” I pleaded.
“I am being reasonable about this,” he retorted. “I want you to have everything, and a good education is part of that, but you know how dangerous the world can be. I’m not sure I want you at such a distance from your mother and me—and the protection of The Shade for that matter.”
“There haven’t been any problems for ages, and even those were minor,” I argued.
“Rogue vampires are not minor,” he replied, referring to the problems in Kansas. “Lives were lost—parents left without their children.”
“I know that, Dad, but I can handle myself. If I was to live on campus, I would know exactly who to call in an emergency. It’s not like distance matters that much, the witches can reach me in a matter of moments. I really don’t see what the big deal is. You’d let Phoenix go!”
“I would have the same concerns if it were Phoenix asking,” Dad replied. I didn’t believe that for a second. Phoenix snuck out frequently to visit the mainland, getting up to God knew what in Hawaii…and all I was asking for was to go to school.
“Tejus,” my mom chided softly, “give her a chance. We can at least go and visit these places. You’re being over-protective, but she’ll be eighteen when she attends. An adult in her own right.”
My dad raked his hand through his hair, his jaw clenching. I tried to hide a gleeful smile—I knew that look. It meant Mom and I had won.
“You’re right,” he sighed. “But Serena, you’re always going to be our little girl. Things like this are a big deal for your mother and me. We’re used to knowing that wherever you are, you’re safe and secure. Once you’re out of The Shade, we’re going to worry.”
I smiled, walking over to give him a hug. I loved my parents to pieces and I knew Dad was always over-protective. He couldn’t help it—it was just the way he was, especially when it came to Mom and me.
“I know you’re going to worry,” I replied. “But trust me, there will be nothing to worry about. The worst thing I’ll face is the mountain of homework and some human guy hitting on me during orientation.”
My dad grimaced. “I’m not worried about boys—I know you can handle yourself against humans. My concerns are strictly supernatural.”
“What concerns?” Phoenix strolled into the kitchen, covered in sweat and dust.
Ugh. Bad timing.
“We’re discussing open days at some of the universities that Serena wants to attend,” my mom informed him.
“Mom!” I groaned, knowing that I would have to fight another battle—my brother, only a year older, was just as bad as my dad.
“What?” Phoenix ignored me, looking directly at Dad. “Do you think she should leave The Shade?”
“Like you do every night?” I snapped at him.
“I’m older than you—and I’m a guy.”
“What?! So?” I exclaimed. “I hope Aida handed you your ass today.”
I just didn’t get it. My brother was totally awesome almost one hundred percent of the time, until it came to protecting me. He suddenly turned into a fuddy-duddy, almost worse than Dad.
“I have to agree with Serena,” my mom retorted, frowning at Phoenix. “That’s not how we raised you, and you know it.”
“All right, I’m sorry,” my brother replied, holding his hands up in a mock-guilty pose, but not looking the slightest bit sorry. “Maybe we should just think about providing her with supernatural bodyguards.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” my dad mused.
“Are you kidding?” I exclaimed. This conversation was fast descending into madness. Thankfully, my mom burst out into peals of laughter.
“Absolutely not,” she replied once she’d calmed down. “Both of you are out of your minds. Serena’s a capable young woman, and if she wants to go to college, she’s going to go to college. I’ll get these dates in the calendar and see if Corrine wouldn’t mind taking us.”
“All right,” my dad growled, smiling at my mom with barely concealed admiration.
“And for that comment,” my mom continued, trying to glare at Phoenix but failing miserably, “you’re going to help me make dinner.”
“Happily,” Phoenix replied with a smirk, taking a ridiculous floral apron off a nearby hanger and placing it over his training clothes. I snorted. If only his many admirers could see him now.
“Thanks, guys,” I replied happily, glad to have gotten my way. “Aida’s coming over—is it okay if I wait outside for her? Or will my life be in peril?”
“Hey, don’t get too sassy,” my mom replied, smacking my butt with a hand towel. I laughed, and ran out to the terrace to wait for my friend.
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
Aida and I were sitting on the porch, watching the redwoods sway in the breeze. I’d been boring Aida close to death about my plans for college—she’d heard them all before anyway, but now that it was starting to look like a reality, I hadn’t been able to shut up.
“I’m sorry,” I groaned after a pause. “This is my thing—I know you’re done talking about it.”
“Hey.” Aida turned to me with a frown. “That’s not true. I’m genuinely happy for you, and plus, happy for myself—I’m going to be visiting constantly. Maybe sit in on a lecture or two and pick up some hot postgrad.”
I laughed. “Sounds good. Please do visit. I’m excited about going, but I know I’ll miss home. Obviously, I won’t be telling Phoenix or Dad that, they’ll just try to leverage it as an excuse not to send me.”
Aida shook her head, her thick, dark-brown hair cascading down her shoulders.
“Phoenix wouldn’t do that, not really. You know he’s only teasing you, and sometimes…you know, he just loses his head.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “I should be grateful I have an older brother who cares, and doesn’t just ignore me completely.”
“Exactly,” Aida replied. “We’re both lucky in that respect.”
“Yeah, but Jovi’s amazing—he’s never over-protective. How did you get s
“Hey! I’m not that uptight. Just self-conscious—there’s a difference. And I’m not even close to Vita in that respect.”
She had a point. Vita was the quietest one of us all. She was painfully shy around everyone, and probably the most gentle-natured girl I’d ever met. Both Aida and I loved her unconditionally. As quiet and shy as she was around others, when you dug beneath the surface she was the most loyal and amazing friend a girl could ever hope for.
“That’s true. Where is she, anyway?” I asked, looking around as if I half-expected her to appear from the shade of the tree at any moment.
“Studying. And last I saw, getting really frustrated,” Aida replied.
That was nothing new. Vita was determined to enhance her fae abilities, but she was only part fae and so her control over her powers was limited. She fervently believed that one day that would change, and I hoped for her sake it did—but until that day came, Vita was going to continue to exhaust herself trying.
“Ooh,” I said, suddenly distracted, “the Hawk boys at three o’clock.”
Aida whipped her head around, and we both stared down at the Hawk men strolling past. Uncharacteristically, they were walking—normally you could only catch glimpses of them up in the air, but clearly today was our lucky day.
“Don’t embarrass me,” Aida muttered. “Your brother did enough of that earlier.”
“As if I would,” I whispered back.
We watched them pass in silence. Individually they were incredibly good-looking, but when you saw them as a group together like this, the combined gene-pool took my breath away. Blue was my personal favorite—those piercing blue eyes, that muscular build and that long, windswept hair made me feel like my insides were melting. I didn’t even need to glance over to know where Aida’s gaze would be directed. Her crush on Field showed no signs of slowing down.
I leaned back in my chair once they’d passed.
“You know they call it a crush for a reason, right?” I asked Aida, archly.
“Yeah, I know,” she replied. “I can’t help it…I almost want him and Maura to hurry up and get married so that I can move on and get it out of my system once and for all. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Can’t you focus on one of the others?” I asked. “I mean, they’re all pretty easy on the eyes. Massive understatement, but you get what I mean.”
“If it was just looks-based, I could.” She rolled her eyes, more in irritation at herself than me. “But it’s more than that. He’s so kind and honorable, you know? Like the kind of guy who would stop and walk old ladies across the street.”
I sighed, lazily stretching out so that my feet rested on the banister that surrounded the treehouse. Dad had built it when Phoenix and I were younger so we didn’t fall off the terrace, but he’d never taken it down and now it had just become part of the furniture.
Through the wooden slats, I could make out Jovi standing beneath us.
“Aida, we need to get going,” he called up.
Both of us leaned forward to wave.
“Coming,” Aida replied.
“Hey, Serena.” Jovi waved at me, flashing me a charming smile.
“Hey, Jovi.” I smiled down at him. Aida’s brother was another example of The Shade’s ability to produce fine-looking creatures, but he was my cousin so I really couldn’t see him in that way. I’d been especially close to him growing up.
“How are you?” he asked, while his sister climbed down.
“Good. Parents agreed to let me go to some college open days!” I said, sharing my good news. Jovi’s smile became kind of fixed.
“You know we’d all much prefer you didn’t leave us,” he replied.
“Don’t you start too,” Aida interjected, nudging her brother in the chest. “She’s just had her dad and brother to deal with.”
He muttered something to her that I couldn’t make out, before throwing her over his broad shoulders, still looking disappointed.
“It won’t be forever,” I replied. “What’s a few years to a supernatural?”
He shrugged, shifting on his feet, before sighing. “Okay… Well, see you later I guess,” he called back, starting to walk back in the direction of their home.
As I watched them disappear through the trees, I felt a slight tug at my heart. As anxious as I was to leave The Shade for study, deep down, I knew with every fiber of my being that I would miss my crazy family just as much as they missed me.
Vita
[Grace and Lawrence’s daughter]
I stared at the small flame flickering in the jar. The tea candle had almost entirely melted into runny, see-through wax. Next to the jar were six other empty candle foils—evidence of today’s mounting failure.
Leaning back against the tree, I sighed in frustration. The one thing I was glad for was that there was no one around to witness my dismal attempts. I was sitting in a secluded spot by the Sanctuary, a small plot of land that Ibrahim and Corrine had kindly gifted me to grow herbs and flowers and practice my abilities. The growing part was coming along well—the plot of land was lush with bushes of sage, feverfew, lemon balm, St. John’s wort and devil’s claw. I had grown them patiently, attending to them like they were small children, and reaped the rewards.
With my own abilities the opposite was true. It seemed like the more I tried, the harder it got. Sometimes, seemingly at random, my abilities would burst to the surface—an erratic breeze, or water from the tap running over onto the kitchen floor—but never in a way that was even remotely helpful, or when I wanted it to happen. Once I’d even managed to set my mom’s curtain ablaze with a scented candle. She’d tried to be pleased that my abilities were surfacing, but the house just smelt burnt for about three weeks.
Refocusing, I concentrated on the near-dead candle. It fizzled, crackling, but then went out completely.
“Why won’t you just work?” I groaned, taking out the dead candle and replacing it with a new one. I lit a match, and the candle spluttered to life. Placing the jar back on the ground, I held my hands over it and closed my eyes, willing the flame to rise up.
My temples started to throb from the effort, and I leaned back against the tree, wondering whether I should go and visit Serena, see if she couldn’t gift me with some much-needed energy. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d funneled her energy into me though a mind-meld to help me with my studies, but it was getting late.
The bushes rustled behind me, and I turned my head around to see Zerus emerging from the back door of the Sanctuary.
“Any luck today?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Absolutely nothing. I swear I’m getting worse.”
The sentry laughed and came to sit down next to me. Zerus was the only person I didn’t mind being around while I practiced. I felt that, above everyone in The Shade, even my best friends, Zerus was the one who understood me best. We were both majorly introverted, and tended to keep to ourselves. Zerus, with his night-time walks and his insistence that he slept outside in the woods, was even more socially awkward than I was. I could practically see his energy draining away from him if he spoke to anyone for more than ten minutes, but it wasn’t like that when it was just the two of us. We could both be ourselves, sometimes sitting in silence for hours and not saying a word.
Zerus was one of the older members of The Shade. He had refused to become a vampire, politely declining the request, and his handsome features would continue, slowly but surely, to show signs of age.
“You’re not getting worse,” he corrected me, “you’re getting impatient. I don’t know how many times I have told you that you need to slow down, to study the natural world before you can claim ownership over it.”
“Mom and Grandpa Ben don’t have that problem,” I pointed out.
“Grace is more fae than you are, and Benjamin certainly is. You cannot hope to match their abilities straight away—one day, perhaps, but that day is not n
I crossed my arms, not enthused to be reminded that this would be a slower process than I’d first imagined.
Zerus laughed.
“Are you wondering what an old sentry knows about fae powers?” he asked, and my cheeks reddened. “Ah, of course you are. Don’t be embarrassed. But I do know about the natural order, and I have studied the stars and the earth for a long time. What I do know is that nature never hurries—it is slow and patient. Even when we believe that something has happened in the blink of an eye, like a shooting star, nature has been building it for a time that is close to eternity for you and me.”
I smiled at Zerus, loving him for his own love of nature and the world around us. I had always appreciated the way he explained things to me, just as patient and slow as he perceived nature to be. His face creased into a broad smile.
“Why not rest?” he asked gently. “Give your mind some time to recover. You are surrounded by beauty here, and yet all you do is focus on your own failure.”
I looked around the garden. It was beautiful, but the gentle sway of lavender and the riot of colorful petals couldn’t contend with the persistent tug at the back of my mind, driving me to obsess over my abilities, desperate to bring them to the surface.
“I will stop as soon as something happens to this,” I proclaimed, gesturing to the candle. “I’m eighteen, Zerus, I’ve waited long enough.”
He barked with laughter.
“Eighteen is nothing, try living to my age. You’ll learn then that nothing happens in the time that it should.”
“Why did you choose not to become an immortal, Zerus?” I asked, suddenly curious—I had always thought he was content with his decision, but his words made me think otherwise.
The sentry was silent for a few moments, gazing down toward the flickering flame.
“I’m afraid I am fated to be alone,” he replied eventually, “and that is not something that bothers me terribly much—there are many things that bring me joy. But an immortal life alone? That is something that I couldn’t bear. It is better to let my life end naturally, when it will. Perhaps,” he mused, glancing up at me, “it is something that you should heed. I know you are shy and reserved, Vita, but don’t let that hold you back. Not from building relationships with others. You will live a long life, make sure that it counts for something—something more than just your own happiness.”