Chapter Thirteen: Bad Intentions:

As my shower was taken, my clothes were put on, and my coffee in my hand, I braced myself for impact as soon as I looked through the window. And I did not like what I saw.

I saw roughly about thirty people sitting in my front yard holding signs that said things like, 'Prove that you are not a witch!', or 'Witch needs to go!', and my personal favorite, 'Witch, please!'.

Damion gave me a look that said that he would be here for me if I needed.

I nodded my head and took a deep breath, then opened the door. And as soon as I did, I was bombarded by what seemed to be humans, but I had the feeling that they knew exactly what was going on under their feet at night.

I stuttered, "Um, hi everyone."

"Oh come on. Don't play that crap with us witch!"

"Well, a funny story that is not really funny for me. Anyone that has any questions, I will gladly answer."

This was enough for the crowd to kind of go silent. They just looked around at each other with a few whispers.

Then a person in the back yelled out the question, "Is it true that you are a witch?"

"Well, yes and no. I'm not a witch anymore. But yes, I was born a witch. My mother, grandmother, my father, grandfather, and so on and so forth were born with magic. But they did not use their powers very much. Usually just for cleaning the house and cooking when we had a lot of people coming over. But sometimes I used it to study for homework, but no I didn't cheat. I just used it to make me not tired enough to go to sleep, so that I could study all night and not be tired in the morning. You know, stuff like that. but the one truly bad thing that has ever been done happened a long time ago in Salem times. So yeah, witches have come a long way since technology came out. We sort of got lazy with magic. Basically what I am trying to say is that magic is kind of like being an organic computer."

Another person asked,"What does that mean anyway?"

I answered, "Well, magic is not just for born witches, but anyone can do it if they just put their minds to it. It's kind of like overusing your brain without even thinking about it. It's kind of like how some people are born with special talents like art, singing, you know? And my trait just happens to be being, or used to be a witch. Magic is like a gun. But the magic itself is not harmful. It is the person behind it that is dangerous. And with years of knowing what I was, yes we kept it secret because, you know what happened to the witches of Salem. So wouldn't you be afraid to use magic on purpose anyway?"

There were a few people that, based on their faces, knew that were starting to understand what I was talking about, but still, there were a few more questions.

Another question that seemed reasonable was, "How did you know that you were born a witch? Did you find out on your own or were you told?"

"I knew that I was different from anyone outside of my family. But I knew that I was like my family. Now, I didn't know that it was called magic until I was about five years old. I asked why other people couldn't do the things that we could. And my mother had to explain to me that we were witches in hiding, and not to tell our family secret. But now that other supernaturals accepted us, we live together in a place that I can't tell humans about, because I will most likely be burned at the stake. And I did not mean to pun like that, but I hope that you understand that I can't do magic anymore, because, well, it was stolen from me. And the fact that I gave it up to save my sister, who yes can still do magic, but she doesn't do it very often anymore."

"So your sister is a witch too. Is everyone in your family a witch? Are you dating a witch too. Or can you date outside of your, um, species? Is that the correct term?"

"No offence taken. Um, well, every human guy that I have dated found out that I was a witch, um, basically broke up with me or since the last one, ran out on me like a little girl. But he found our hiding place, which I still won't tell you where it is, because, safety first. Not many supernatural species come anymore, but I will gladly tell you how many of them come over. About four of the species come to our sanctuary."

"What are they, if you don't mind us asking?"

The crowd of the angry mob was starting to turn into a curious club the more I spoke openly.

"Witches, werewolves, vampires, and mermaids. Okay, technically they are sirens. And yes, they can grow legs if they don't get wet."

"How come we never see them then?"

"Well, we do live among humans. We live normal lives as teachers, cashiers, chefs, you know, normal lives. And what humans don't understand is that we are a lot different, but most of us started out as normal people, but were turned. I however was born a full witch, then turned into a hybrid."

"You're a hybrid?What kind are you?"

"Well, I don't have my witch side anymore, so I am no longer a hybrid, but I am not human either."

I paused, and took a deep breath, and then spoke as fast as I could, but still understood, "You can look it up on YouTube. If you type up, 'Witch and werewolf fight bikers', then that should answer your question."

They all pulled out their phones and watched the video, and a few moments later, they all looked up with their mouths hung open.

"Now, if you are scared of what I was able to do, then I completely understand if you want to be an angry mob again. Just try not to kill me, please."

"No, we don't want to do that at all. Just as long as you don't try to kill us during a full moon, we are good."

I sighed in relief.

"Okay, well that makes me feel even better. And safer. Now it is my turn to ask a few questions. Why did you come onto wet grass. How did you know where I lived. And do you all want to come inside, because it looks like it is going to rain. Oh, and we have coffee, so who wants it iced or hot. Don't worry, we do have chocolate for some of the women. You know, being a full werewolf has its perks because of the sense of smell being like a dog. So come on in and make yourself at home, it looks like it's going to rain. And I don't want to smell like a wet dog, if you know what I mean.

As they walked in one by one, the rain started to pour. I shut the door after the last person was inside and that is when I caught the familiar scent of the man in the pick up truck.

And I could smell his bad intentions.