Chapter Nineteen: Trapped in the Closet of the Past.

                                    

                                          
Evelyn: 
Soleil sat next to me, one of my black blouses looking like a dress on her five foot two petite frame. The trees flashed by my window, the energy of the library growing stronger. My inner wolf howled for me to run away, my witch side telling her to calm the fuck down. Bloodsworth energy wafted in and out of my scent.  What the hell did he want!  
"I will need you to protect me." I sighed deeply, my eyes scanning the road ahead. She nodded silently, my shoulder still screaming with pain. My hand rested on my baby bump, a numb look dimmed my eyes. Soleil took my hand, her kind red eyes gazed warmly at me. Rubbing the top of my hand with her thumb, she cleared her throat. 
"I know we will get that dark magic out of you." She comforted me weakly, unsure of her own words. "I can promise you as your half-sister or whatever I am." Smiling to myself, the black Victorian mansion loomed in front of us. A witch's shield protected the home, my inner wolf crying out for me to stop. Walking through, her growls echoed in my head. 
"Shut up!" I ordered my wolf through our mental connection, a dull whine ringing in my ear. "I need to do this or we both die." 
An elderly woman filled the doorway, her black robes dancing to their own rhythm in the magical breeze. Soleil gazed around with childlike wonder in her eyes, Sir Bloodsworth was watching us from a distance. His red eyes glistened with excitement, him waving at me. The blue eyes of the elderly lady followed mine, her hands clapping. Inky blackness covered the shield, trapping us in. Why wasn't he trying to attack me? 
"I am Madame Magicienne!" She introduced herself cheerfully, her tight white curls bouncing around her head. "All witches are welcome here. Although it is just me." Smiling motherly in my direction, her hands cupped my face. My past few months flashed in her head, Madame Magicienne nodding her head. A tender blush rose to my cheek as she smacked the back of my head, a small gasp tumbling from my lips. 
"What the hell was that for!" I demanded hotly, rubbing the back of my head. "I don't deserve an-" Narrowing her eyes, she shifted through the ragged cabinets. Biting my lip, Soleil and I were shaking in our boots. The dark cloud over the old lady's head scared us both, her knuckles cracking. Stepping back, her wrinkled hand slammed me down on a stool. 
"You need a protection amulet if you are going to kill a dark witch, you nitwit." She grumbled under her breath, smacking the back of my head again. "Now I have to spend a couple of days removing the dark magic from your heart. The process is painful, but you deserve every bit of pain you are going to feel. My eyebrow twitched, her raw strength holding me down in the chair. How in the hell was she so strong?  What did I get myself into? Soleil reached for me, the old witch smacking her hand away. 
"You best go read some books or something." She warned icily, shooting her a kind smile. "She will be in solitary confinement until she works through what is trapping the pain in her heart." Jamming a needle into my neck, my world spun as blackness enveloped me. 
Rubbing my head, white padded walls surrounded me. Alarm widened my eyes, no handle sat on my door. Only blue eyes peered in through the tiny rectangle of the window, my fists banging on the door. Wicked laughter erupted on the other side of the door, my eyes narrowing at the sight of her fucking glee. 
"You are going to go through all of the dark times in your life until you come to grip with who you are." She chirped cheerfully, confusion flashing in her eyes at her sudden joy. "Have fun." Flipping her off, the walls waved around me. My breath hitched, the walls of my family home were around me. Looking down at my hands, I was six again. My hair danced in the breeze, my two parents standing over me. Blood, my blood pooled beneath my feet. Over and over again, they struck me. Their faces were blank, just the nauseating scent of alcohol wafting from their mouths. The small child in me was terrified as my whole body trembled. The urge to run plagued my mind, my father grabbing my wrist.