Branded Read online

  Chloe

  I’m so anxious, I wake up before the alarm clock. I roll over and see Chelsea sleeping peacefully in her bed three feet from mine. I’m a smidge jealous of her. I’d love to know exactly what my future will look like. She’ll get her dove brand, go off to Leviston, marry Rory, and have a beautiful family.

  I, on the other hand, have no idea what the future holds for me. Yes I’ll be going to Leviston too, but I will be on the hawk path. No one I know has taken the hawk training in the last twenty years. I have no idea what to expect.

  Plus, I’m not excited about Leviston. A witch-focused college seems like a good idea in theory, but I’d rather go to a traditional school. A college filled with magic and supernatural abilities sounds like an adventure, but it’s not. From what I saw at orientation, Leviston will involve a lot of lecturing and homework.

  The only promising thing about Leviston is the exposure to more warlocks. The boys in our local coven aren’t anything to write home about, so I’m hoping Leviston has better options.

  I had boyfriends throughout high school, but my relationships never lasted long. I don’t see the point in getting involved with an average guy. He would never really understand who I am as a person. This isn’t Bewitched. I won’t find a Darren who will fall in love with me and accept my abilities. Any witch who has tried a long-term relationship with a non-witch has failed, horribly.

  It’s not like any of the regular boys I dated held my interest anyway. I was often more daring and adventurous than them. They were only interested in making out. While I won’t deny I enjoyed it immensely, none of the boys were challenging enough for me. Maybe I’ll find my match in one of the hawk classes.

  It’s common for witches to meet their future partners at Leviston. In fact, my parents met there. Mom was in her second year when she volunteered to give a campus tour to incoming freshmen. As luck would have it, Dad was one of the new students in her group. It was love at first sight.

  I jump when the alarm starts its annoying and shrill ringing. Chelsea rolls over, slams her hand on the snooze button and smashes her face in her pillow.

  “I hate that stupid thing!” she whines.

  Our bedside alarm is the only thing Chelsea has ever hated in her life.

  I giggle. “Rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

  Chelsea opens one eye and looks at me. Suddenly, she sits straight up and throws off the covers. “Chloe! It’s Branding Day!”

  She jumps out of her bed and starts tugging on my blanket.

  “Hey!” I protest. “Quit!”

  “Get up! Let’s go! We have to get ready.”

  Despite my moodiness, her excitement is infectious. “Alright, alright.”

  Chelsea smiles widely as she drags me to the bathroom across the hall. We stand side by side in our bathroom, each in front of the sink we assigned ourselves as kids. Mom and Dad think it’s funny we won’t use the other’s sink, but it makes perfect sense to us. We even stood on the bathroom counter one day and painted our names above the mirror in “our spots.” Chelsea wrote her name in pretty pink script, and I wrote mine in purple block letters.

  Chelsea grins at me in the mirror. “Do you want to go first when Elliott gets here?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Doesn’t make a difference to me. Although I would like to catch a glimpse of him.”

  Chelsea giggles. “Of course that’s your main concern.”

  I finish brushing my teeth and spit into the sink. “Can you blame a girl? I’m not tied down like you.”

  Mom makes bacon and eggs for breakfast, but the only one who eats more than a few bites is Dad. Mom tries to calm our nerves by telling us about her own Branding Day. We’ve already heard the story ten times, but she means well.

  Like us, Mom received her brand shortly before she left for Leviston. Her path was decided and she was happy about it, for the most part.

  “Being a hawk might have been fun,” she muses, although I think she’s only saying that to make me feel better.

  When Dad met Mom all those years ago, he decided to follow her on the dove path because he fell head over heels for the “cute blonde girl” leading his tour.

  “Would you have taken the hawk path?” I asked him one day a couple years ago. “If you hadn’t met Mom?”

  He considered my question, his dark brown eyebrows furrowing. “Probably not,” he admitted. “I’m not a hawk kind of guy.”

  Dad is a sturdy man, but he has a docile demeanor. While he physically fits the bill of male hawks I’ve seen, he is more of a peacemaker than a warrior. Same with Mom. Chelsea and I inherited her lean, athletic physique, but her specialty at Leviston was healing potions, not battle strategy.

  After breakfast, we sit in the living room pretending to watch TV. House Hunters is on, but none of us is paying much attention to it. I keep glancing at the clock and catch my sister doing the same.

  When the doorbell rings, all four us stand up simultaneously, then freeze. No one quite sure what to do.

  Dad makes the first move. “I’ll get it,” he says and heads for the front door.

  I sit back down on the couch. “You can go first Chelsea. I’ll wait.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I smile. Chelsea looks like she is about to burst at the seams. “Yes. I don’t think you can wait a minute longer.”

  Chelsea breathes a sigh of relief. “Thanks.” Then walks toward the front of the house.

  I’m tempted to run down the hall when I hear an unfamiliar deep voice greet my dad and Chelsea. Elliott is here! I resist the urge to catch a peek of him and remain seated. I don’t want to interfere with Chelsea’s Branding Day.

  But four hours later, I’m fidgeting like crazy. What is taking so long? I want to sneak in our front room and see what’s going on, but Chelsea and I agreed to wait until we’ve both had our tattoos to look at our backs. Mom and Dad try to keep me entertained, but they’re as nervous as I am.

  I stand when I hear footsteps coming around the corner. Chelsea is beaming as she enters the room.

  “All done! Your turn Chloe.”

  I make a circle around her, hoping her blue tank top isn’t covering her new brand. To my chagrin, the tattoo is concealed by a huge white bandage.

  Chelsea giggles as I sigh. “I knew you’d try to peek!”

  “Did it hurt?”

  She shakes her head. “Not at all. Remember, one of his powers is to calm and heal as he tattoos.”

  “Yeah, doesn’t mean I want to be poked with a needle for four hours.”

  Chelsea smiles. “I think you’ll be fine as soon as you meet Elliott.”

  This peaks my interest. “For real? Is he hot?”

  Chelsea blushes.

  Damn! Elliott must be really hot for Chelsea to notice him. She’s usually completely blinded by her love for Rory.

  When I step into the front room, I see why Chelsea was blushing. Elliott is wiping down a padded massage table with a hand towel. Black tribal tattoos cover his sun-kissed arms. He is wearing a black t-shirt and ripped blue jeans. A black baseball hat covers his dark hair. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s gorgeous.

  I play it cool when he turns my way, hoping he didn’t notice me checking him out.

  He extends his hand to me. “Hi. I’m Elliott. I’ll be branding you today.” He says it so casually it makes me chuckle.

  I return his handshake. His hand is warm and his shake is firm. “Chloe. Nice to meet you.”

  Elliott smiles and dimples appear in his cheeks. “You ready?” he asks as he arranges items on a silver tray. Unfortunately, I get no clue about my pending brand because he has both white and black vials of ink in his hands.

  I stand tall and square my shoulders. “Yes.”

  Elliott gives me another beautiful smile. Damn this man is fine. And his hands are going to be all over my back. I get goosebumps thinking about it.

  My smile falters when I see the tattooing equipment. I’ve never been a huge fan of
needles. In fact, Chelsea used to hold my hand when we got shots at the doctor’s office.

  My concern must be written on my face.

  “Don’t worry,” Elliott assures me. “You won’t feel a thing. I promise.”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  I pull off my t-shirt and walk over to the table in my bra and cutoff shorts. I hope Elliott will give me a good onceover, but he doesn’t. I lay flat on my stomach and turn my head toward him as he sits in the chair beside me.

  “Do you want to know which brand I’m giving you, or do you want it to be a surprise?” he asks.

  “I want to wait. I promised Chelsea I would.”

  Elliott nods. “She said the same thing. In that case, you should look the other way.”

  I do as told and turn my gaze toward our front windows. The blinds are closed so no one can see inside. The neighbors would probably find it a bit strange if they saw me getting a tattoo in our living room.

  Elliott begins softly running his fingertips down my back as he hums quietly. I wonder if he is humming some ancient witchy song that will make my skin “speak” to him, but then I recognize the melody. I can’t help but laugh.

  Elliott’s fingertips stop. “What?”

  I look over my shoulder at him. “Justin Bieber? Really?”

  He grins. “Hey, Love Yourself is a great song.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

  “No more interruptions,” Elliott says in a stern voice, then cracks a smile.

  I turn my head back toward the windows and lay still. Elliott trails his fingers down my back, then uses massage-like motions to knead the skin. I’m incredibly relaxed until he takes in a sharp breath. The motion of his hands abruptly ceases. He lays his palms flat on my back for what feels like an eternity. My once relaxed mind is now reeling. What is going on?

  Stay calm Chloe, I tell myself. This is just part of the process.

  But I’m all kinds of freaked out. Something feels wrong, off in some way.

  Elliott takes his hands off my back and silently takes a seat on his stool. The ink vials clink and his equipment hums as he tests it. I wish I could ask him about my brand, but Chelsea will be upset if I don’t wait. I consider asking him anyway and lying to my sister. His momentary pause while reading my skin has left a rock in my stomach.

  Elliott stands and leans over my body. I shiver as his breath tickles my neck. He whispers in my ear, “It’s going to be okay Chloe. Rest now.”

  I close my eyes and steady my breath. Despite my concern, I slip into a sleep-like state. I can faintly hear and feel Elliott moving around me, but it’s hazy. It doesn’t seem real. I don’t feel any pain, not even a prick. Instead, my mind wanders and I have no sense of time.

  I’m still out of it when Elliott gently nudges my shoulder. “Chloe, honey, it’s time to wake up.”

  My first thought is – he called me honey! Woo hoo!

  I roll onto my back and slowly open my eyes. As they adjust to the light and I creep out of my brain fog, I notice the sun has set and the overhead light is on.

  “How long have I been asleep?” I ask in a raspy voice.

  Elliott wraps his arm around my shoulders and helps me sit up. “A while.”

  He stretches his arms to the sky, his shirt lifting high enough for me to see a crow tattoo above his belt.

  Nice.

  When my head clears, I slide off the end of the table and do a quick stretch myself. I’m more alert as I grab my shirt. I stop short before putting my right arm through the sleeve for fear it will rub against my shoulder.

  “Is it okay if I put my shirt on?” I ask Elliott.

  “Yes. The skin is completely healed.”

  “One of the perks of a magical tattoo, right?”

  Elliott smiles in response, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “There’s something I need to…” He stops himself. “You know what? I’ll wait a few minutes and let you and your sister enjoy the moment.”

  I don’t like the look on his face. “No, tell me. What is it?”

  Elliott takes off his hat and throws it on the table. “I don’t know where to start.” He runs his hand through his black hair. “Just go get your family and reveal your brand however you planned it out.”

  I step toward him. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  Elliott shifts his weight. “Chloe, your life is about to change. A lot.”

  I relax, the tension in my shoulders easing. He probably says this to all of his canvasses. “I know. I’ve been waiting for this day since I was a little girl.”

  Elliott closes the distance between us and takes my hands. “You don’t get what I’m trying to tell you, but you will in a few minutes.”

  I search his eyes for some sort of clue. The sense of doom I had when he was reading my skin is back in full force. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

  He hesitates. “Nothing is wrong, not exactly. Just unexpected.”

  A glimmer of hope rises in me. “Am I a dove too? Are Chelsea and I the first twins to get the same brand?”

  Elliott opens his mouth to respond, but my mom interrupts him.

  “You’re done!” she exclaims from behind me.

  Elliott drops my hands and steps back toward his equipment. I stare at Elliott a moment before turning to Mom. What was he about to say? His expression gives away nothing.

  I shake the concern from my mind and smile wide for Mom. “All done!”

  Mom grins and yells, “She’s done!” down the hallway.

  Chelsea comes running toward the front room and nearly knocks me over when she grabs me for a hug. “Are you ready? Are you ready to see?”

  I return her infectious smile. “Hell yeah!” I chase her up the stairs and into our bathroom. We stand in front of our sinks with goofy grins on our faces.

  “Can I go first?” Chelsea asks, her eyes gleaming.

  I nod. “You got your tattoo first, you show first.”

  Chelsea turns her back to the mirror. “Will you take the bandage off?”

  “Don’t you want to see?”

  “I’m too nervous. You look for me.”

  I laugh. “Okay.”

  I pick a corner of the bandage and start peeling it back. My heart pounds as I reveal more and more of Chelsea’s skin. I know full well whatever her brand is, mine is the opposite. I’m essentially revealing my own brand by looking at hers.

  I’m not surprised at all when I see the silver and white ink. All of our family and friends were right, Chelsea has a white dove on her shoulder.

  “Chelsea, it’s beautiful,” I say with pure sincerity, genuinely happy for my sister. She wanted this more than anything.

  Chelsea glances over her shoulder into the mirror. I see tears form in her eyes. “Wow,” she says after taking it in. She looks up at me and smiles. “I’m a dove.” Her smile falters. “Oh Chloe, I’m so sorry.”

  This is the amazing thing about my sister. Her dream has just come true, and all she can think about is me.

  I hug her. “Don’t be sorry Chelse. This is the right thing.” I don’t tell her there’s a piece of me hoping I’m right about both of us being doves.

  Chelsea pulls away. “Your turn! Let’s see it.”

  I turn my back to the mirror, take off my shirt, and wait for my sister’s reaction. All I hear is a gasp. I look over at Chelsea, her eyes wide as saucers. Her expression gives me hope. I am a dove too!

  I look over my shoulder and my jaw drops open. I meet my sister’s eyes.

  “Oh my God,” I say before turning back to my reflection.

  There’s no way this is happening.

  “What’s going on in there?” Mom asks from the hallway. “Can we come in?”

  Chelsea and I stare at each other, shell-shocked. She moves toward the door and opens it. Mom comes bursting in.

  “Oh girls! We’re so excited! We can’t wait to,” she stops mid-sentence when she sees my back.

  Dad pushes in
behind her. “Let me in. I want to see.”

  Mom turns toward him, disbelief and fear on her face. “Steven?” His name comes out like a question.

  Dad stares at my back silently, not showing any emotion. He spins on his heels and walks out of the bathroom. “I’ll call Samantha. She’ll know what to do.”

  Mom takes one last look at my back before following after him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know the danger she’ll be in now…” her voice trails off.

  Chelsea reaches out and grabs my hand, both of our faces pale in the mirror.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  A tear slides down my cheek. As much as I didn’t want to see a black hawk on my shoulder, I’d give anything to have it now.

  I’ve only seen my brand in pictures. Never in real life. A gorgeous white hawk with wings expanding from shoulder to shoulder. Its feathers outlined in gold ink. Beautiful, but fierce blue eyes that leap off the skin. It is as equally stunning as it is powerful.

  The brand of the Verhena.

  I squeeze Chelsea’s hand. “I’m screwed.”

  Chapter Two

  Chelsea

  The look on Chloe’s face is killing me. Her knees are pulled tight into her chest and she’s rocking back and forth.

  We are hiding under a makeshift tent in our room like we did when we were kids. Huddled together under a quilt draped over our beds, I attempt to console her.

  “You should be excited. Do you know how special this is?”

  She scowls at me.

  I clear my throat and try again. “I know you’re scared Chloe, but it will be okay. I promise.” I can’t help but notice how much I sound like our mother.

  “Was it okay for the last girl?” Chloe asks, dripping with sarcasm.

  I frown. She’s got me there. “That was an odd situation. It won’t happen to you.”

  Chloe stops rocking and glares at me. “The wolves tore her to pieces Chelsea!” Seeing me flinch, she softens her tone. “They’ll come for me now. I might as well have a giant target on my back instead of a white hawk.”

  I touch her shoulder. “The wolves came after Barbara because her stepbrother told everyone during a podcast that she was the next Verhena. He outed her to the world. No one is going to do that to you. We all know we have to keep your identity a secret until you have all of your powers.”