Chapter 6

Elizabeth was so angry with me that it came off her in waves that crashed into me. She pulled me into the kitchen—a bright, sunlit space with pale blue cabinets, well-worn countertops, and a lingering scent of herbs and fresh bread. The table was covered with a scattering of cookbooks and a chipped ceramic bowl, evidence of the warmth and life usually present in this room. Today, though, the kitchen felt tight and airless, every surface reflecting Elizabeth’s tension.

She turned to face me, her eyes wide and glistening with a fear that went deeper than anger. “I can’t believe you! You promised me that you would not tell him, and now I don’t know what is going to happen between David and me.”

Elizabeth’s features, so often calm and radiant, were twisted with worry—her delicate horns trembling slightly, her lips pressed thin as she tried to hold herself together. The flush on her cheeks wasn’t just from rage, but from the dread gnawing at her. She was so upset that she started to cry, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as if for support.

I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but, in all honesty, I was not sure I believed it. The thought of her losing David clearly haunted her; it was written in the way her shoulders shook, in the desperate edge to her voice. I felt so ashamed that I disrupted her life so much, seeing firsthand how much she feared losing the person she loved most.

I reached out to her gently, hesitating for a moment as I searched for the right words. The last thing I wanted was to say something that would make it worse. My hand hovered over her back before I finally placed it there, hoping the gesture would comfort her even if my words might fail. "Elizabeth," I said softly, my voice uncertain, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it back."

Careful not to rush, I tried to choose every word with care, afraid that the wrong phrase might deepen her pain. "I never wanted to hurt you or put you in this position. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, whatever you need. If you want me to talk to David, or just listen, or even just leave you alone for a bit—I'll do whatever will help."

The kitchen felt even smaller as I stood there, balancing the urge to reassure her with the fear that I might make things worse. I squeezed her shoulder gently, silent for a moment, letting her take the lead. More than anything, I wished I could ease her worry, but I knew how fragile the moment was, and how much my words mattered.

I put my arm around her and said, "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. I was not careful when I was talking about magic with them. Is there anything I can do to make it right? You know that I would do anything to help you. I promise I will be more careful from now on. I will try to explain things to James if you want to go talk to David. I am sorry that being back has made things so difficult for you. Maybe you should have left me trapped." Elizabeth looked at me for a long time. I was just saying whatever came to mind as I talked to her.

Elizabeth took several deep breaths, closing her eyes for a moment as if willing herself to become calm again. Her shoulders straightened as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. I could see her making an effort to steady her breathing, her chest rising and falling in slow, measured rhythms. She glanced at me, her expression softening as she tried to collect herself.

"Mother, no, I have worked so long to bring you back. I am so happy that you are here with me. This is not your fault; I should have been more honest with David." Her voice trembled at first, but grew steadier as she spoke, each word an attempt to reassure both herself and me. "I know that he is upset with me. I shouldn't be blaming you; I know that you didn't mean to let my secret out. You were just trying to help James."

Elizabeth reached out, placing a gentle hand on my arm—a small gesture meant to comfort. "We'll get through this. I promise. I just need to talk to David and apologize to him."

"I will be more careful from now on," I promised, holding her close to me so that her horns bumped against my forehead. She gets up and walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room. I go into the living room to see James still sitting on the couch, looking like he didn’t know what to do now. I sit down next to him and pat his leg.

I could see the confusion and worry etched on James’s face as I sat down beside him. He looked lost, shoulders hunched, twisting his hands together in his lap. I put a gentle hand on his back, trying to offer what comfort I could. “Hey, James,” I said softly, “I know this is a lot to take in. You’ve just learned so much about your family, and I know it must feel overwhelming.”

I waited until he looked up at me, his eyes searching mine for reassurance. “Whatever you’re feeling is okay. You can ask me anything, or just sit here for a while. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

"Do you have any questions I can answer for you?" I asked while sitting next to him.

He hesitated, then asked in a small voice, "So, how long have you been alive? Why don't I have powers like my mom?”

"I was made roughly thirty thousand years ago, but for the last three thousand years, I have been trapped in a gem prison. Elizabeth freed me three days ago. As for why you don't have powers like your mom, that is the thirty-thousand-dollar question. Though your power is not as different from your mom’s as it is from your dad's. I don’t understand how your dad’s magic works, but I guess I will find out when I head to school with you,” I told him.

“How did you get your magic?” He asked me.

"My magic was given to me by eating the seed of the Tree of Knowledge and through the magic of archangels," I said, making sure to keep my tone gentle and reassuring for James’s sake. "It’s something very old and unique, and I should not be able to pass those powers on to anyone else."

I could see James listening intently, his brow furrowed in concentration. Wanting to comfort him, I reached for his hand, giving it a light squeeze. "But I promise, I will find out how this happened for you, and I’ll help you access your magic and learn to control it. You’re not alone in this, James."

I looked him in the eyes, hoping my sincerity showed. "You must be careful not to pull too much magic from your well at once, because it can hurt you, or even burn out your well completely. That would keep you from ever using magic again, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. We’ll take it slow, step by step, and I’ll be here to guide you."

As I spoke, I softened my voice further, doing my best to ease his worries. "I know it can be scary, but you’re stronger than you think. And you don’t have to figure any of this out alone. We’ll do it together."

James sat quietly for a moment, his gaze shifting between Elizabeth and me as the reality of our relationship began to settle in. I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes—a mix of shock, curiosity, and even wonder. "I cannot believe that my mom is a succubus," he said, his voice trembling a little. "I knew she was different than any other wizards I had ever seen, but I never would have guessed that she was a succubus."

He glanced at Elizabeth, then back at me, his brow furrowed as he tried to process everything. "And you, you are my grandmother. Yet, you still look like you are 16, like me. Oh man, this is so strange, I'm not even sure what I am supposed to feel."

For a brief moment, James’s eyes softened with realization as he took in the closeness between Elizabeth and me—the way we moved around each other, the shared glances, the comfort and history woven into even our silences. I could almost see him piecing together how deep our bond ran, and how much we’d both risked to find our way back to each other.

He let out a shaky breath and laughed nervously. "What do I call you? I can't go around calling you grandma?" he confided in me, but there was a hint of newfound respect in his voice. It was clear he was starting to see not just the strangeness, but the strength and love that tied Elizabeth and me together.

I pause before I start to answer him, taking a long breath as the weight of everything that had been revealed settled in around us. The air in the room felt charged, thick with questions and uncertainty. I could see that James was struggling to process it all, and I realized I was, too.

"Lilith, just call me Lilith," I finally said, offering a small smile in an attempt to lighten things, though my own heart was heavy. "Believe me, I know how strange all this is for you. It’s a lot to take in. We’ve all learned things that have shaken what we thought we knew about our family."

I glanced at Elizabeth and David, noticing how they, too, seemed lost in their own thoughts. We all sat quietly for a moment, letting the silence stretch, each of us trying to make sense of our new reality and the tangled web of secrets that had come unraveled. I reached out and squeezed James’s hand, grounding myself and him in the present.

"I've lived a long time and seen many people I know and care about grow old and die while I continue to live in this young body. I was lucky to have Shar'li, your other grandmother, your mom, and her sisters to help me get through this long life that I have been living. I have trouble imagining what it must have been like for your mom when I was gone. Most people would think that immortality would be the best thing in the world, but like everything else in life, it has its drawbacks."

We all seemed to be searching for the right words, for a new sense of balance after so many truths had come to light. The only thing I could offer was honesty, and the reminder that we would face whatever came next together.

"Let's go outside, and I can show you a little of what I can do with magic, and you can get a feeling of what it is like for me," I say, getting up from the chair I was sitting in. James hesitated, but his curiosity won out. He followed me to the back door, his steps uncertain but hopeful, and we stepped into the backyard together.

The sun was still warm, casting golden light across the open space between the house and the wall. James looked around, taking in the small garden and the quiet, everyday magic of the world outside. I glanced at him, seeing the mix of anticipation and nerves on his face—he wanted to believe, wanted to understand, and maybe even see something of himself reflected in what I was about to do.

I knelt by the flowers and beckoned James to come closer. “Watch closely,” I said, my voice soft. As he crouched beside me, I brought my magic up to my hands. The air shimmered faintly around us, and I could feel James holding his breath, wide-eyed and silent.

Placing my palms on the earth, I closed my eyes and pictured the garden I wanted to create. Colors and scents swirled in my mind, and with a slow exhale, I let the magic flow from me. Flowers began to bloom in a wild, beautiful profusion—petals of impossible colors, new shapes and textures weaving through the bed. Vines curled up tree trunks, forming a living canopy that arched over us, dappling the ground with shifting shadows. A pond sparkled into existence at the foot of a tiny, tumbling waterfall. The sound of running water, the scent of blossoms, and the warmth of sunlight all mingled in the air.

James’s eyes went wide with awe. He reached out to touch a flower, his fingers trembling. “Did you really do all that, just now?” he whispered.

I smiled at him, feeling the joy of sharing something so deeply a part of me. “Gardens have always been my favorite place to relax and think. I like to keep Eden alive in my life as much as I can. And now, you get to be part of it too.”

For a moment, we simply stood together in the midst of the magic, letting wonder and possibility settle between us. I could see hope blooming in James’s eyes, a new understanding dawning as he realized what magic could truly feel like.

I managed to fill the garden with a variety of colors and textures that I have seen throughout my life. I open my eyes and look around at the garden and smile. It looks exactly like the garden we used to have in the cave that I lived in before my capture.

The surge of magic I released into the garden must have radiated through the house, because within moments, David and Elizabeth burst out of the back door, drawn by the sudden change. David stepped onto the grass first, his mouth falling open as he took in the transformation. His eyes darted from the lush flowers to the winding vines and shimmering pond, disbelief etched on his face. He staggered forward a few paces, shaking his head in utter shock, as if he couldn't trust his own senses. Words failed him—he simply stared, awestruck and overwhelmed by the impossible beauty before him.

Elizabeth was right behind him, but her reaction couldn't have been more different. The moment she saw the garden, joy lit up her whole face. Her eyes filled with tears—not of sorrow this time, but of pure happiness. She hurried into the heart of the new garden, her hands fluttering over the blossoms, and then looked at me, her expression radiant. "Mother, this looks like the garden we had back in the cave. Your garden wilted and died; after you were taken away, we could not keep it up the same way as you could. I have missed this garden so much; it reminds me of the times when we were all together and happy," she says to me with a look of love. It warmed my heart to see how much she loved this garden.

I walk over to her and give her a big hug, “I will make you a garden wherever you may live so you can have me with you at all times.”

David finally found his words and asked, his voice still shaky with disbelief, "How were you able to do all this in such a short time? This would have taken six wizards a week to accomplish." He shook his head, his eyes wide as he took in every detail of the transformed garden. The awe in his expression was unmistakable, tinged with apprehension as he tried to wrap his mind around what I was truly capable of.

I took a step closer to him, offering a reassuring smile. "David, what you’re seeing is just a glimpse of what I can do. My magic works differently from wizard magic. I have to compress my magic in my well, which lets me use much more power at once. When I focus, my will shapes the magic, and it draws on the ambient energy around us to spread and grow. All it really needs is a spark from me, and then I can direct it however I imagine."

I reached down, picked up a rough stone, and let a shimmer of magic pass through my fingers. Right in front of his eyes, the stone transformed into a small, perfectly cut green gem, which I placed in his hand. "Magic for me is about intent and imagination. I don’t have to follow the same rules as wizards or rely on elements. If I can picture something, and I have the will, I can make it real."

David stared at the gem, turning it over in his palm, his shock slowly giving way to fascination. "It’s...incredible," he murmured. "And a little terrifying."

I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "It can be, if it's not used carefully. But I want you to know that I only want to help, and I will always use my magic to protect this family."

"So, you use earth magic?" David asked.

"No, David, I don't use earth magic—or any elemental magic, for that matter." I shook my head gently, wanting to clear up his assumption. "The magical energy I draw in isn't bound to earth, fire, water, or air. For wizards, those elements shape and limit their magic, but for me, I see the raw energy itself—like a canvas waiting to be shaped by my will and intention."

To show him, I let a flicker of fire dance across my palm, then let it vanish, and followed it with a swirl of water rising from the nearby pond, suspended in the air for a heartbeat before falling back. "See? I can create fire, water, wind, earth—whatever I wish, because I’m not calling on an element, just shaping the core magic to my purpose. My power is about intent, not affinity."

I watched as David's eyes went wide with realization, truly grasping for the first time how fundamentally different my magic was from the kind he knew.

It's no wonder that James was having so much trouble performing magic; he wasn't being taught how to use his power correctly. I thought to myself. I turned to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "James, let's try something together. I want you to create a flower on that patch of ground," I said, pointing to a small area clear of other growth.

"Before you do anything, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Feel the magic inside you—not just as energy, but as something alive, connected to your thoughts and feelings. Imagine the flower you want to see: its color, its shape, even its scent. Picture it as clearly as you can in your mind."

I guided him, my voice calm and steady. "Now, let the magic flow through you, like water or sunlight feeding a seed. Gently push that magic out, giving it your intent—tell it to become a flower. Don’t force it, just guide it with your will, as if you’re coaxing something to grow."

James nodded, a bit nervous but determined, and prepared to try.

He looks at me as if he can't believe what I'm saying, "I don't know how to do that."

"James," I said softly, kneeling beside him, "as I said before, the energy is in your body—feel it, give it purpose, and then tell it to create a flower. Remember, you must control the magic as naturally as you would move your own hands or breathe."

I placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the spot I wanted the flower to be. "Take your time. Don't rush. Let the magic build slowly, like a gentle stream, not a crashing wave. Trust what you feel, and trust that you can guide it."

James took a deep breath and bent down, putting his hands on the ground as I had done before. I watched him close his eyes, his face tense with concentration. I could feel his power start to flow through him, swirling with growing intensity. Sensing the energy becoming too much, I quickly whispered, "Easy, James, not so much... just a trickle."

But in his excitement, the power surged, spiraling out of his grasp. I yelled, "Stop!" and reached out to shield him, but it was too late—he and I were both thrown back as the ground exploded in front of us. Picking myself up, I looked at the spot, only to see a crater where there should have been a flower.

Despite the mishap, I couldn’t help but smile at his effort. Guiding him through the process was always about learning—sometimes, the mistakes teach us the most.

David and Elizabeth rushed over to help James, both of them fussing as they checked him for injuries. James sat up slowly, blinking through a layer of dirt, his hair wild and his hands still trembling from the shock. He looked down at the crater in front of him, then back at me, confusion and embarrassment warring on his face.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice unsteady but curious, as if he was trying to piece together the misstep.

I could see him replaying the moment in his mind, his brow furrowed as he tried to recall what he had felt right before the explosion. He brushed dirt from his shirt and stared at his hands, flexing his fingers as if searching for answers in the lingering tingle of magic. “I thought I was doing what you said, but everything just… got away from me. I could feel the magic, but it was like it was fighting me. Did I try too hard? Did I not picture the flower clearly enough?”

His earnestness reminded me how new and overwhelming this was for him. It was clear he wanted to understand, not just shrug off the mistake, and I knew that this curiosity would help him grow.

As I shake the dirt off me, I can't help but laugh—a deep, genuine laugh that startles everyone for a moment. The memory of my own early disasters comes rushing back. "That was you putting too much magic into your purpose, causing it to explode with the remaining energy. We are definitely going to have to work on your flow control so you don't push too much power when it's not necessary."

I grinned at James, still brushing soil from my hair. "Honestly, you did better than I did my first time. When I was learning, I tried to grow a simple rose and ended up launching myself—and half a tree—across the garden. Magic everywhere, petals in my hair, and Michael laughing so hard he could barely breathe. It took me weeks before I even tried again. So you see, you’re in good company."

Yeah, that was a big overload for how much he needed; that much power can be dangerous. I’m glad that his well of magic is smaller than mine. The amount of destruction I can cause if I let my magic get out of control is scary even to me. That flow control is going to be the next thing I have to do with him.

David looks at me with a raised eyebrow, "He could have been hurt, and you are smiling."

I can't help but laugh, "I had everything under control, I protected him with a shield when I saw him pushing too much power. It protected us both from any injuries. I will always protect him while I am working with him.”

"James, could you feel the magic swirling around inside you?" I asked. If he can feel it swirling around, maybe I can get him to feel the flow and try to control it.

"It felt like I was fighting to get it to go in the right direction." He replied to me.

"What you did by focusing so much on the direction of flow, you lost sight of the purpose. As you struggled with the magic flowing through you, you pulled more magic from around you to try to force it to do what you wanted. This caused you to add the ambient magic to yours, causing the power to grow uncontrollably. If I were to try to do what you just did, I could release enough energy to equal a nuclear bomb. You must be very careful about how you pull ambient magic into you and how you let it flow through your body. It was a good first step, though."

As I helped James up, I couldn’t help but grow more serious, the memory of my own worst mistake flickering through me. "You know, the last time I truly lost control of my magic, it changed the course of history. It wasn’t just a garden or a flower that was destroyed—it was an entire island."

I looked at James and the others, making sure they understood the gravity of what I was about to share. "During the battle with Michael and Lucifer, I tried to cast a spell strong enough to send Michael back to heaven. But I didn’t realize Lucifer was working his own magic at the same time, feeding extra power into the spell without me knowing. I felt a surge—a wild, raw, uncontrollable mix of magic that overwhelmed even me. I tried to direct it out to sea, away from everyone, but I lost my grip. The next thing I remember was waking up in a motel, and Atlantis was gone."

My voice caught, heavy with guilt. "That was the first time my magic ever killed someone—more than just one, in fact. A whole city was lost because I lost control. That shame has haunted me ever since. It’s why I’m so careful now, and why I want you to learn control before anything else. Power without purpose or restraint can destroy everything you care about."

I squeezed James’s shoulder, my eyes meeting his. "But every mistake is a lesson. We carry them with us so we never repeat them. That’s why you’re going to learn—and why I’ll be right here to guide you."

David cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the heavy silence that had settled after my story. His voice was gentle but purposeful as he tried to guide us back to the present. "Why don’t we all head inside, clean up, and get some dinner? I think we could use a little comfort food and a change of mood."

He placed a reassuring hand on my back, his steady presence grounding me as he nudged James and Elizabeth towards the house. Elizabeth wiped at her eyes and gave me a grateful look, and James managed a small, sheepish smile. David led the way, opening the back door and holding it for all of us, as if gathering his little family back to safety.

Once inside, the familiar warmth and aroma of the kitchen offered a stark contrast to the intensity of our recent conversation. David busied himself at the stove, dishing up plates and encouraging easy conversation, his way of steering us all gently toward normalcy. I could tell everyone was grateful for the break, and I was thankful for David’s quiet strength and the way he kept us anchored.

I think they could all tell how much this tormented me, and I realized I had never really gotten time to get over it. For me, it’s only been a few days ago—but somehow also an eternity. Every time I close my eyes, the memories of Atlantis are there: the sunlight glinting off white stone, the laughter echoing through the streets, the feeling of belonging before it all slipped away. Sometimes, I’m not sure if the memories are mine alone. Since Kyle and I were joined, his recollections bleed into mine, coloring everything with a sense of loss and longing that is both his and mine. I remember the way the city looked from the highest spire, the taste of sea salt on the wind, and the pride and fear I felt as the magic built to its breaking point. There are moments when I feel as if I’m standing in two times at once—Atlantis falling beneath the waves and the present moment, my hands shaking over a dinner table. I didn’t really know how bad the damage ended up being, but I knew it was going to be bad when I cast it into the water. The shame and the weight of that day linger in me, a wound that never quite heals, no matter how many ages pass or how many new lives I build.

After we finished cleaning up and getting dinner, we sat back in the garden, just getting to know each other better. I had so many gaps in my knowledge of the world—things that had changed in the centuries I was gone, and details I never learned while trapped. I found myself asking David endless questions, from the simplest new inventions to the subtleties of wizard society, hungry to fill in the blanks that time and absence had left behind. David was patient, happy to answer, and I could tell he enjoyed sharing what he knew. He and Elizabeth talked about how they met at the university, how their mutual love of history brought them together, and how her knowledge had always seemed uncanny—though now David finally understood why.

Elizabeth spent the rest of the night in her succubus form, her presence both comforting and bittersweet. Every time I looked at her, my thoughts drifted to Shar’li. The ache of missing her pressed at my heart, sharper because I knew we had only been apart for a few days in my experience, but it felt like I had lost an entire lifetime. Never before had we been separated for so long since we became mates. The garden, the laughter, even the gentle night air felt incomplete without Shar’li beside me. I longed for her wisdom, her steady presence, and the way she could always fill the silences with warmth. As I listened to David and Elizabeth's stories, I silently promised myself that, no matter how much I learned or how many gaps I filled, there would always be a part of me searching for Shar’li.

Jame’s curiosity got him a lesson in succubus physiology. He piped up innocently, “Mom, can I feel what your tail is like?”

Elizabeth and I spun around at the same time—our voices perfectly in sync and much louder than intended: “No, absolutely not!” The sharpness in our tone made James jump, his eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment. Even David looked startled by the sudden shift in mood.

Elizabeth took a steadying breath and then gave James a gentle but firm look. “Succubus 101: A succubus’s tail is an erogenous zone, just like her horns. It’s definitely not appropriate for you to be touching me there. It’s kind of like asking if you can pinch someone’s butt or tug on their ear in public—just… no.”

I tried to soften the moment with a wry smile. “It’s a good rule of thumb, James: unless you’re invited—and trust me, you won’t be—hands off the tail and horns. It’s a matter of respect, comfort, and, well… not embarrassing your mother half to death.”

James’s cheeks flushed bright red, but he nodded, absorbing the lesson. David just shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as the awkwardness faded into a round of relieved laughter. Sometimes, a little education was necessary—especially in this family.

We spent the next week settling into something that almost resembled normal life, even if everything was new. Mornings started with laughter and breakfast in the kitchen, sunlight slanting through the windows as we shared stories and plans for the day. I devoted time each day to working with James—sometimes in the garden, sometimes in the living room, gently guiding him through exercises to sense and shape his magic. He still caused the occasional small explosion when he tried to make a flower, but the craters were shrinking, and his confidence was growing. We celebrated every little victory, sometimes with cookies, sometimes with a proud hug.

Afternoons were often spent with Elizabeth and David, poring over books and notes as they taught me about wizard magic, society, and laws. Elizabeth showed me the intricacies of spellwork and etiquette, while David explained the shifting politics and the hidden dangers of attracting the council’s attention. I could feel their worries every time they spoke of the council or the old families, and the more I learned, the more I understood their fears—wizard society was tightly controlled, its power hoarded and guarded by those who had held it the longest. The rules were written to stifle anyone different or new, and the penalties for stepping out of line were harsh.

In the evenings, we often walked in the garden, the air cool and fragrant, talking about what to expect from school and helping me get registered. Sometimes, James would ask questions about the past or share hopes about the future, and Elizabeth would curl her tail around herself and listen quietly, her eyes reflecting the golden light. There was always a sense of anticipation humming beneath the surface, a mixture of excitement and anxiety for what was to come.

Despite the worries about the council and the weight of secrets we all carried, we found comfort in each other’s company, building new routines and memories—if only for a week, it felt like a family finding itself again.

It is finally the night before we are to leave for school, and I can’t seem to sleep. My mind races in endless circles, anxiety gnawing at me with every passing hour. I keep imagining all the things that could go wrong—what if the wizards at the school sense what I am, or worse, who I am? What if my magic slips out in some small, careless way, and suddenly I am surrounded by suspicion or even hostility? I picture the council’s agents watching from the shadows, waiting for a mistake, or classmates recoiling in fear if my true nature is revealed.

Every unfamiliar noise outside makes me tense; every creak in the house feels like a warning. I rehearse what I’ll say, how I’ll move, how I’ll hide every part of me that might be different—my magic, my history, even the way I look at the world. I wish I could be as calm and confident as Elizabeth seems, but my nerves keep me awake well into the early morning. When sleep finally comes, it is restless, haunted by dreams of being exposed and chased down the school’s echoing halls. By dawn, I feel as weary as if I’d fought a battle all night.