Chapter Twenty-Eight ✧Genevieve's Gift✧

Everything around me was so incredibly bleak. 

There was nothing for as far as I could see in any direction I turned to. There were no walls to show an end to the bright whiteness that made up my new surroundings. On top of that, I couldn't even tell where the ground was other then the fact that I seemed to be standing on it. 

Needless to say, it was taking my mind a little while to grasp what was going on. This was the after life, or so I was told. This bleak vast nothingness was the indicator that I had died. Well, that and the woman standing in front of me that was patiently waiting for me to come to terms with my own untimely demise. While I appreciated her waiting so silently after she dropped the bombshell that I was dead, I needed a few moments to really understand what that meant. 

When I was finally able to make eye contact with Genevieve Carodine again, I took a moment to actually look at her as she was no longer possessing the body of Allison Argent. I remembered the picture I'd found of her on the computer in the library and although the picture had been gritty and old, it was definitely of the woman standing in front of me now. 

There were a lot of things striking about Genevieve's appearance. She had high, sharp cheekbones that would be easy to draw, and her face was framed by long straight brown hair. Her eyes, which bore the same shade of dark espresso as her hair, seemed to somehow be both weary and electric, all at once. Those would not have been as easy for me to draw (but perhaps it would've been a fun challenge for me to attempt, if I wasn't currently super duper dead).Her skin was so pale, it almost could have blended in with the long, high neck white dress that she was wearing. 

Almost everything about her seemed to be what I expected, but their was one thing I couldn't pin. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't figure out her age. She wasn't young, but she also definitely wasn't old. She just seemed to be... timeless. 

"The afterlife," I finally let out in a shaky breathe. Now that I'd looked into Genevieve's eyes, it seemed impossible to look away. 

"Your afterlife," Genevieve corrected. Then, as she raised her arms, she added. "Our afterlife." 

Suddenly, I was surrounded by other women. But they weren't actually there. They seemed to flash all around me in images, moments in time broadcasted across the emptiness of the after life. I knew by the way they moved that I was seeing them not now, but in specific moments of their life. Some of them were close enough that I swear I could've touched them, but I knew if I reached out they wouldn't really be there. They were as real as I was dead. 

"Who are they?" I whispered. Something told me it didn't matter how quietly I spoke, Genevieve would still know exactly what I was saying. 

"These are all of my children," Genevieve clarified. She no longer was looking at me, but at the glimpses of women flickering around me. I followed her gaze to all the different women and girls. "There are your sisters who served before you." 

It was mesmerizing to look at them. There seemed to be about a dozen other girls, all of whom seemed to all be a different age, wearing vastly different clothes, and altogether looking very different from each other. However, despite all of these differences, each girl had the unmistakable look of determination in her eyes. Something about them felt familiar. Something about seeing them, unmistakably broken and unfailing brave, that made me feel an odd but safe sensation.

"I'm confused," I admitted, finally prying my eyes away from the flickering images so I could look back at Genevieve.

"That's okay." A ghost of a smile flickered across Geneveive's face. "I'm hear to tell you my story and answer any questions you have." 

I nodded slowly. Then, I took a deep breathe and asked the one question I'd been avoiding. 

"Am-am I really dead?" 

"Well, not yet. But you are dying." 

Somehow, that answer was worse then what I was expecting. I tried to think back to the last things I remembered before I got here, but everything seemed hazy. What I remember most is the pain that radiated throughout my entire body, and through the pain were small glimpses of Liam and Scott hovering over me. 

I opened my mouth to ask my next question, but I couldn't help the hesitation that occurred before I could utter a single word. Did I really want the answer? 

"Am I going to die?" 

Suddenly, all the images of the women flickered at the same time. The stopped moving, stopped interacting with their past surroundings that I couldn't see, and suddenly stood still to face me and stare blankly. They were all expressionless, and their gazes blank as they bore into my soul. 

"Yes," Genevieve answered, but as her lips moved to answer my question, so did everyone else's. She spoke again, and this time it was just her, "But all of you had to die to head my call. Charlotte, you're special. You all were special. You've fought more in the past few years then most people do in an entire life time. You overcame challenges most people couldn't imagine facing, and you've grown stronger because of them." 

"How did all the awful stuff that has happened to me get me here, though?" I questioned. Quietly, I added. "I'm not special." 

"All of you-" Genveive motioned to the others. "-willing sacrificed yourselves for the sake of your friends. All of you were women who were beaten and battered and felt pain and anger so strong that it called out to me because I died feeling the way you did. And in those moments, those moments when you become so weak you have no choice but to be strong, your souls called out to mine and let me know that you can be a vessel for me." 

"Vessel?" I frowned. I spared a glance to the other women staring at me to see if they had any answers, but they continued to remain silent. My mind couldn't help but think back to the horrible nogitsune. "You mean you're going to take over my body or something?" 

"Not at all." Genevieve almost sounded amused. She clearly hadn't met the nogitsune. "For my kind, we pass our powers on to our children when they come of age. However, I never got to have children. But when I was killed, the woman I loved, a woman who practiced dark magic in the form of necromancy, performed a spell that would make it so I would have children in a less conventional way. Through this magic, every few decades I am able to find someone new to carry on my legacy and to gift my powers." 

"Magic?" I asked suddenly. "So, you and this woman were witches?" 

As soon as the word witch exited my mouth, Genevieve let out a horrible sound that was somewhere between being a growl and a yelp. 

"We never call ourselves that word," Geneveive hissed. "Humans are the ones who started calling us that. They tracked down any woman and called them that right before burning and hanging us. That is the name my murderers called me before they ended my life." 

Geneiveve took a deep breathe. The hatred that was boiling in her eyes died down, and she continued, "My love was a necromancer, a magic practitioner who dabbled in the ancient ways of dark magic. I, however, was a different kind of magic practitioner. I was born with the gift of an elemental. Unlike necromancy, we don't need ingredients or spells to get a reaction, we just feel and use the world around us." 

"An elemental," I whispered to myself. The word felt oddly soothing to say. It was as if after years of not knowing exactly who I was supposed to be, I finally found some direction. And to be honest, I don't think I realized how lost I had been until I said it and felt some kind of acceptance warm my body from the inside out. 

"That's right," Geneiveve nodded. "Like I said, I never had children to pass my powers on to, like most magic-people would. But so many of us were killed off before we could and... well me having children who have passed is really the only way our kind has been able to live on." 

"So that's what we are," I realized. "The children you never had. You find girls like you... girls like us and let them be the ones you pass your powers to." 

This time, when I looked around at the other girls, their expressions weren't so blank. Suddenly, they seemed warmer, almost more inviting. They were no longer women who used to be alive, but people who were really here with me. When I looked at them, I saw myself in their eyes. We were all products of different times, or different lives (that much was clear in the way they all looked and dressed), but we were one in the same in that we all had lived through so much suffering. 

I've always known I'd been lucky to have my friends. I'm lucky to have someone like Liam who is there for me and listens to me. But it's not the same as really being understood, which is nobody's fault, it just is what it is. However, there's a certain loneliness of not having someone around that really knows what you've been through, of why my past shaped me as it did.

When I looked at these girls, though, I knew they understood though. 

"When I was hung, it was a slow and painful death," Genevieve recalled. I could tell by the pain in her eyes that no matter how many times she recounted her death, it never got easier to remember. "But it gave time for my love to perform the spell that would allow me to live on. I would remain in an afterlife that she had crafted for me, and in this afterlife I would be tethered to our world so my soul could answer the call of the young women who needed me. When you felt the pain of your friend, Derek, dying, your pain ripped through oblivion until it found me, and when it did I was able to begin the process of power transference." 

I suddenly was reliving the moment when I'd thought Derek had died. Suddenly there I was, back in Mexico, crouching next to him and losing yet again. 

In that moment, I remember feeling like no matter what, I still always lost. I lost my family, friends, the life I thought I would have, and so much more. And in that moment I had hurt so much I couldn't breathe and I wanted to stop sitting their and watching as more things were taken from me, and then the next thing I had known a berserker was flying through the air. 

"I just remember having enough," I said quietly. "I was tired of feeling like the world was crumbling and I couldn't do anything to stop it. And then, suddenly I just felt strength like I'd never felt before." 

"That was the moment I found you," Genevieve nodded kindly. 

I couldn't help but smile. There was suddenly tears rushing down my cheek that could've been caused by the memory of Derek dying, the realization that I was getting a second chance to be some one stronger, or just knowing that maybe I'd never really been alone after all, but I was suddenly overcome with emotion. I was being overwhelmed by so many emotions that I couldn't place that it was dizzying. All at once, the many faces around me seemed to blend together and I had to close my eyes.

"It's happening," Geneveive announced. Her voice was now not being spoken to me, but ringing in my head. "You've officially died, Charlotte Lahey." 

I quickly realized Geneveive's voice wasn't the only one I could hear in my head. However, hers were the clearest. The other voices were more like distant whisperers that I didn't think I was supposed to be hearing. 

My eyes shut tighter as the dizzying feeling got more overwhelming. Then, I realized I recognized the whispers in the back of my mind. 

It was Liam and Mason. 

I was desperate to hear them, to know what was going on in the real world. I could hear it in Liam's tone that something was very very wrong, and I realized that I had just died. Wherever they were, my body was cold and unmoving and they were thinking they'd lost me. 

Soon it was just Liam's voice, but his words were still unclear. I tried to force myself to be able to hear him better, but there was nothing I could really do. My stomach felt empty as I heard a whimper, something soft and sincere coming from Liam wherever he was, and what ever he was saying I desperately wanted to hear him. 

You'll see him again, I reminded myself. I had to repeat the thought a dozen times before I could convince myself it was true and that everything was going to be okay. 

"When can I go back?" I'm not sure if I actually spoke the words or just thought them, but Genevieve seemed to understand me. 

"You'll be reborn on the tree where I was hung," Genevieve explained. "You just have to accept my gift first." 

"You mean your powers?" I asked. "That's your gift right?" 

Genevieve nodded. She took a step closer until we were only an arms length apart. I felt myself instinctively hold my breathe, not sure what to expect to happen next. 

"Charlotte Evangeline Lahey, do you accept my gift to you. Do you accept my powers and my knowledge as a practitioner of elemental powers," Genevieve said in a stony voice. 

Although we appeared to be surrounded by nothing, I felt a gust of wind gathering around us as if we were standing in the middle of a tornado. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to still be holding my breath or if there wasn't any air left for me to breathe. 

"If you accept," Genevieve continued, her voice louder to be heard over the wind, " Then you have to take on the oath of your sisters before you. Use these powers to do good in your world. Better the world that has been determined to destroy you, show it that no matter how hard it tries it cannot beat you. And most importantly, bring the men that have hurt you to their knees. Do this, and my powers shall stay with you and you shall live as the last reincarnation of our people in Beacon Hills." 

Had my breathe not already been stuck in my lungs, it would've caught in my throat. For the first time, it was dawning on me the power that was about to be thrust on to me. When I was reborn, I'd be a completely different Charlotte Lahey. 

Genevieve studied my face, perhaps anticipating me needing time to comprehend what it was that she was giving me. Then, slowly, she reached a hand out to me. She got close to my right hand, that was hanging numbly at my side, but stopped just before her fingers toucher mine. I realized she was waiting for me to chose to accept her gift. 

Slowly, I now reached back out to her. I didn't know what I expected to feel when our fingers touched to hold hands, but it wasn't what I got. Instead, our hands clasped together and for a moment nothing happened. And then, everything got brighter and brighter until I was swallowed by a white light. 

And then there was nothing. 

My eyes opened suddenly and involuntarily, which was odd because I didn't remember having them closed. Then I felt myself finally be able to to take a breath again, and the air that filled my lungs was so cold it almost burned.

For a moment, I thought maybe I was still with Geneveive in the afterlife, because there didn't seem to be anything around me but darkness. Then my eyes adjusted. 

I wasn't surrounded by vast nothingness like I had been moment before. It was just such a dark night that for a moment it had seemed that way. However, as my eyes adjusted to the low light, I realized I was in the woods. The Beacon Hills Preserve, I guessed. 

I soon realized my guess was correct. I began to sit up as I had woken up flat on my back. I'd assumed I'd been laying on the forest floor, but I soon realized I was wrong. I had been reborn atop the massive trunk of a tree I knew all to well although I don't remember ever actually coming here before. 

The Nemeton. 

Genevieve had said I would be reborn in the place that she had died. Apparently before it had been a tree trunk, the Nemeton had been the tree she had been hung from. Not for the first time, I realized how much of our little world in Beacon Hills was connected to this tree. Everything seemed to begin and end here in some sore of way. 

Sitting up now, my hands traced the exposed wood in the middle of the tree. It felt exactly like a tree, which I found surprising. It's not that I expected the tree to be different then any other tree, but I thought the tree would feel different to me.

 I had just come back from the dead. I was supposed to have these new powers, powers that had been gifted to me by a centuries old magic practitioner who harvested energy from worldly elements, and yet I still just felt like me. I didn't feel a rush of power, or even the slightest bit stronger.

 In fact, all I felt was exceptionally cold and a little lost. 

Before I got to get too lost in my own thoughts of what could be wrong with me, if maybe the powers didn't take because I wasn't worthy, I heard a noise in the distance. 

I turned quickly and listened carefully. Maybe I didn't have supernaturally hearing abilities now, but it was quite enough that any little noise resonated. 

There was another crack of a stick. Somewhere, something was moving nearby in the woods. 

I was not along out here. And whatever was out here with me sounded like it was moving closer at an alarming rate. 

an : after that major cliff hanger, i finally updated oops. hope this answers all of your questions about whether or not i'm ending this book (hint: im not). 

anyways, lemme know if you liked this part :) and let me know what you feel about this new development in charlotte's life!