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UPON COLBY'S REQUEST, one of Marcel's vampires took her home, to the apartment. Opening the door, she saw Claire sitting on the couch, who looked up at her as she entered.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting you back so soon." She said, smiling softly, closing the book she was reading. Colby felt her heart beat faster as she threw her messenger bag onto the armchair next to the couch, setting her angry gaze on her aunt.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" Claire's smile faltered as she stared at Colby, taking in her words, how hurt and angry she sounded.
"Tell you what?" Claire asked, making Colby scoff. She began pacing the room in anger, running a hand through her hair when it fell into her face.
"That you were a witch! That you were shunned from your coven for stopping the Harvest!" Colby shouted, throwing her hands out to the side. Claire paused, narrowing her eyes at Colby.
"How did you find out about this?" She asked slowly. Colby rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
"Marcel told me. Marcel! I found out from him, because you decided to keep it from me." Colby exclaimed, making Claire sigh. She gestured for Colby to sit next to her on the couch, and after a moment of hesitation, Colby sat in the armchair, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I was hoping I would never have to. The moment I was shunned from my coven, I was done. I haven't done magic since." Claire said, frowning. "You have to understand, if I had thought there was any danger to you, I would have told you. I would have told you everything." The words tugged at Colby's heart, making her frown. She was hurt, yes, but she could never hate Claire.
"Was my mom...?" Colby trailed off, looking at her aunt directly for the first time since she got there. Claire quickly shook her head.
"No. No, of course not. The witch gene came from our father. Your mother, Rachel, got her, um, gift from our grandmother." Colby leaned forward, elbows resting on her knee's. "I was hoping it hadn't passed down to you, but, I see now that it has." Colby intertwined her fingers together, looking at Claire.
"What am I, Claire?" Colby asked seriously, and her aunt took a deep breath, raising her head to meet Colby's eyes.
"A wailing woman. A banshee." As Claire said the words, Colby inhaled sharply, taking it all in, before her dream flashed into her mind.
"My mother wasn't sick, was she? That's not how she died." Colby asked hesitantly. Claire shook her head sadly, and Colby's heart skipped a beat. How many more lies had Claire told her? What else didn't Colby know?
"The voices, the deaths, the screams; it became too much for her. Rachel was losing her mind, her grasp on reality loosening with each scream. It got to the point where she wasn't just sensing the deaths anymore – she was feeling them. Those things haunted her. When she knew her death was coming, she asked only one thing from me. To take her to the bayou." Claire explained, images of her dying sister flashing into her mind. Colby shot up onto her feet in disbelief, anger radiating from her.
