Dark Possession by Phaedra Weldon

 
    February
14th
     
    Dear Uncle,
    Continuing forward. That's my new mantra.
There isn't anywhere else for me to go. I can't go backward. My
other life's gone. And honestly…I don't want to return. I'm ashamed
and embarrassed for most of what I became.
    In the past year I've done
so many things I regret. I think my first mistake, the inciting
event that lead to my spiral down, was fusing an ancient magical
tome to the man I love. But I was desperate to save him, even as I
felt him dying. I don't mean I regret what I did, I mean I can
clearly see that using the magic I'd copied from the Grimoire twisted
something inside of me. The book's cursed. It's evil. It was
written by a demon so it can only do demonic things.
    I have to laugh, Uncle, when I read that
last line. Me. Calling Abysmal beings demonic. It's true I guess.
But a part of me knows not all things Abysmal are evil, and by all
means, not all things Ethereal are good. There's too much gray
between the two of them. You tried to warn me, didn't you? So many
times while you taught me within the Society.
    I was just supposed to watch and learn.
Report back on the most important find to the group. The only Irin
born to a witch in a century. How were we to know the First Born's
touch would change her nature into something so…different?
    A month ago I could use magic. I could bend
things to my will. Manipulate people, places and things. Hell, I
even manipulated a man into loving me because I loved him. From the
moment we met I knew he only had eyes for someone I believed was my
best friend. It hurts in places I don't talk about, knowing her
friendship is long gone. Not just because I betrayed her, but
because I forced her to do something that forever put a wedge
between us.
    I started this journal after you died,
Uncle. I missed our evening talks so much, I though if I wrote down
what I needed to tell you, it would be like you were still
there.
    But something happened…something I haven't
told you about because it's taken me over a month to accept. And I
have. I really have.
    Zoë ripped my magic from me.
    I'm no longer a witch.
    There.
    I said it.
    And it's taken me this long to be able to
say it or write it without breaking apart. I never knew until that
second, standing in Between when I faced the Wraith as she was
truly meant to be, magic was little more than an accessory to be
worn or removed. I did terrible things to her, even before the
Dominion stepped into my life and made me its puppet. Taking Darren
nearly destroyed her. He'd given me comfort for a while, even if I
knew his feelings, his devotion to me, was a lie.
     
    Rhonda looked up from her journal and stared
at the television screen. She didn't recognize the images, or the
show. TV and its mindless drama hadn't played a part in her life
for over a year. Not since Zoë's run-in with TC. Archer. What ever
his name was. He was the Phantasm now, and it suited him. He would
be a good leader.
    Should she write to her uncle about what
happened?
    Probably not. Knowles was never a great
supporter of the Abysmal ilk. His loyalties rested in the strength
of the Seraphim and the Ethereals. Members of the Society weren't
supposed to root for one side or the other. And Knowles had shared
his opinion with his niece.
    She missed him.
    Funny, how after all this
time, she still didn't blame Zoë for killing him. She didn't have control of herself and obeyed
orders. I was the target and my uncle got in the way.
    Rhonda Orly's new life was finally under
way. She sat back in the chair of her desk and looked at her new
house. Forget the fact it was close to where Nona's shop used to
be. Rhonda drove by the ruins every day on her way to her new job,
and always felt a sense of sadness. She loved the old placed and
missed those maddeningly good but fattening breakfasts Nona used to
make on Wednesday.
    She also missed Zoë.
    More than she cared to admit.
    She was the only real friend
Rhonda had ever had. She was the only
person