The Silent One: Cursed Daughter (Book 1)

It

(Alice's POV)

"Gram, this is Alice," Tate said. "Alice, this is my grandmother, Ceciellia."

He placed his hand on my lower back, beckoning me to step forward. She smiled at me, and suddenly I didn't feel as intimidated by her.

"I've seen you here before," she said as she clasped her hands. "You're always with that other girl."

I nodded my head and she stared at me for a moment before leading us inside. Once we were inside, I heard her lock the door behind us and watched her close the window curtains. I've never been in the library when it wasn't open to the public, let alone in the apartment above it, which is where Ceciellia is leading us. I followed Tate as we slowly ascended the secret staircase in the far corner of the store.

Once we are at the top of the metal spiral staircase, Ceciellia opens the door to her apartment. It was larger than I imagined and looked like the home of any other normal, older woman. She was a witch, so I expected to see strange and unusual things, but everything was normal. The walls are decorated with family portraits and old photographs of Ceciellia with her friends. What caught my attention the most was the large painting of Ceciellia hanging above the fireplace. Though she is much younger in the painting, she is just as beautiful back then as she is now.

In the corner by the front door is a shrine. It's covered with candles, knickknacks, and photos of a man. There is also a picture of Ceciellia standing next to him. She's holding a baby girl, possibly Tate's mother.

"There is something special about you, my dear," Ceciellia said.

I was so fascinated by the shrine that I didn't realize that she was standing behind me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Tate was still limping. He tried to walk around the coffee table to get to the couch, nearly falling in the process.

"She is special," Tate said, flashing me a smile as if he hadn't almost fallen just moments before.

"I assume that you must be here for something beyond human knowledge," she asked me. "So, what can I do for you?"

I followed her gestures and joined Tate on the couch. Ceciellia sat in the rocking chair near the fireplace. The orange glow illuminated her flawless skin. I looked at Tate, nodding my head in his direction, motioning for him to take the lead. She may be his grandmother, but I'm still unsure of her nature. So far, any other encounter I've had with a creature I have crossed paths with hasn't ended well.

"We were attacked after leaving school today," he explained. "Her friend, the girl you saw her with, was taken by these creatures, and she needs our help to track them down."

His grandmother raised an eyebrow like she didn't believe us. That's when Tate slowly removed his jacket, revealing his blood-stained shirt. He also removed his shirt to show her his wounds. When Ceciellia saw the cuts and bruises, she gasped while holding her hand up to her mouth.

"Who did this to you?" she asked angrily.

"That's why we came to you," Tate said. "We were hoping you could tell us."

He took a deep breath before explaining everything that had happened earlier. Hearing him tell the story again brought back the pain of knowing. Anna was out there somewhere with those things. She's just Anna, a human. She wouldn't stand a chance, trying to defend herself against them. I could barely handle them, and I have special abilities. I didn't even know if she was still alive at this point.

What if I ended up walking right into their trap, and they had me right where they wanted me? I pushed away the thought because, in the end, it didn't even matter. All I cared about was finding Anna, taking my revenge on those who kidnapped her, and safely returning her home.

"We don't know who attacked us, but Alice says she knows they aren't humans," he said while looking at me.

Ceciellia was silent for a moment as she searched inside her kitchen cupboards for something. When she found what she was looking for, she returned to the living room and handed Tate a tiny bottle filled with a strange thick, lime-green colored liquid. My eyes grew wide at the sight because he drank it with a straight face as if he had drank it before. I realized it must have been a potion after it began to rapidly heal him.

"Wait, you said she knew they weren't normal?" she asked before turning her attention to me. "Only a supernatural being could tell if someone is human or not."

I didn't know how to respond. There's so much about that other part of me that even I have yet to understand. My mother is just a human, or at least that's what I've come to believe, so I never had anyone explain how this all works. I was kept in the dark, having to carry this burden myself, but thanks to Anna, I didn't have to feel alone. She helped me get through everything life had thrown my way. Now that she wasn't here to guide me, I felt so lost.

"What exactly are you, my dear?" she asked me. "A fellow witch, a fairy, or perhaps a genie?"

Tate hands her the bottle, and his gaze meets mine. I'm so nervous that my hands shake. I was too afraid to say anything to her because I didn't know how she would react. Tate gave me a reassuring expression. I hesitated at first, but I knew that if I wanted to get anywhere with this, I would have to overcome this obstacle. Just as I was about to tell her, Tate spoke up for me.

"After doing research in your library, they believe Alice is... a banshee," he said hesitantly.

Her expression quickly changed from concern to pure anguish and hatred. I could tell from her body language that she didn't like Tate's answer. Coming here might have been a mistake.

"Now, I know what you might be thinking, that I shouldn't have brought it into your home without asking first, but she needs our help," Tate pleaded with her.

It...

That word kept repeating in my head. I couldn't believe he called me that. I raised my eyebrows at him as I was completely baffled by his choice of words. He bared an apologetic expression on his face before his grandma pulled him to the side. They began to whisper back and forth, talking calmly and quietly at first, then gradually louder.

I waited patiently, watching the fire dance in the fireplace. Occasionally, I'd glance over at them, while they talked, which sounded more like arguing. I couldn't hear what they were saying, and their lips moved too fast for me to read them. Whatever they were discussing certainly didn't sound pleasant.