Gabby's parents had lived in the same house they had bought when they first got married. Over the years it hadn't changed very much, it was a typical American home. Two stories, clad in cream weatherboards, a wide porch that stretched across the entire front and a double garage. She grew up here as an only child amongst very happy memories. The only thing that marred it was when she was ten, when her beloved Grams had disappeared. Everyone said she was crazy and did all they could to find her so they could get her the help she needed. Gabby never believed any of the things her family told her. There was no reason for her not to believe, but perhaps it was her undeveloped power pointing her in the right direction.

Liz and Alex hovered behind her on the porch, content to wait outside while she went in and spoke to her parents. Liz had already been invited in some time ago and was ready in case she was needed. Letting herself in with her key, Gabby called out to her parents, who were in the living room.

“Gabrielle,” her mother called, coming out into the hall. “This is a nice surprise. We weren't expecting you.” Gabby's Mom was probably the nicest lady you'd be likely to meet. She was more than happy to go out of her way to help her only daughter if she needed it, whether it be help with school projects or more grown up problems like getting stubborn stains out of her clothes. Her Mom was fair and on first glance, Gabby didn't look that much like her at all. Her dark coloring came from her Dad, who was half Spanish on his mother's side. His mother being her grandmother, the one she so desperately wanted to find.

“I know, Mom,” Gabby said, wondering how she could broach the subject.

“I would have made you something nice for dinner,” she said with a smile, offering just as she knew she would.

“That's okay, Mom. Where's Dad? I want to ask you something.” Best to sit them down first.

“Is everything okay, honey?”

“Yeah,” she replied, walking into the living room where she heard her Dad moving about.

“Gabrielle!” he said as she walked in.

“Hey, Dad,” she said, sitting down on the familiar leather armchair beside the matching sofa, which her parents now sat down on. They looked at her expectantly, wanting to know what she had paid them this impromptu visit for. ”I want to ask you about Grams,” she said, carefully.

Her mother stared at her in shock, obviously under the impression that it was all swept under the rug and she'd never ask about it again. “Why do you want to know about her?”

She looked to her father and then back to her mother, gauging their reactions, but just came out with it. They were against the clock. Who knew how much time Aya had, if she had any left at all? “I want to find her. Go and speak with her.”

“Gabrielle,” her father said in his familiar stern voice. He'd used this tone with her on many occasions, when she had been in trouble for something or rather when she was a child. But he hadn’t used it since she'd finished high school. It was perfectly reasonable that she would want to speak with her grandmother one day, so why was it such a hassle, regardless of her reasons why?

“Dad,” she said, “it's important. Please, if you know where she might be—”

“No,” he said. “It's best that you stay away. She's not quite...right.”

“Not quite right?” she scoffed, offended. “What's that meant to mean?”

“Gabrielle...” He frowned, clutching her mother's hand. “Your Grams, well, she was sick. She claimed she could do things that weren't...ordinary.”

“Yes, I know,” she exclaimed, exasperated. She was ten, not stupid. Certainly old enough to catch on to what was happening. “Did you ever stop to think that she was telling you the truth?”

Gabby saw the hesitation in her father's eyes and knew he'd seen proof of it. He'd had to. ”You knew exactly what she was, didn't you?”

“I'm sorry Gabrielle, but we still agree with your Grandfather,” her father said, the lie evident in his voice. “The best place for her was at the hospital.”

“How can you say that?” she exclaimed, dumbfounded. “Even after what you saw?”

“Gabrielle, please,” her mother said quietly, ever so subtly wanting to quell the situation. To stop a scandal plaguing the town with them at the center of the gossip. “We didn't see anything. Your grandmother was sick. We tried to get her some help, but she wouldn't listen.”

“No, Mom. It's you that wouldn't listen. Even when you saw it with your own eyes.” Tears were threatening to spill over as she pointed to the candles on the mantle angrily, willing them to light. “Then how do you explain this?”

As the wicks burst into flame, apparently of their own accord, her parents recoiled, gasping. Gabby was too angry and disappointed to see the denial that was so evident. They would send her away now, too, wouldn't they?

“Gabrielle,” her father said, glancing at her warily.

“I'm just like her. I'm a witch. Are you going to send me to an asylum now? Do you think I'm crazy?” She saw the fear in their eyes and imagined it was the same one that had plagued their features when they realized the truth about her grandmother. It broke her heart. Her parents shouldn't be afraid of their own daughter. They attempted to put her grandmother away when she was little more than ten years old for exactly the same reason. Because they wouldn't accept what was right in front of their own eyes. She wished she could take it all back. She wanted to think her parents were above all of this, but then again, everyone thought that about their Mom and Dad until they proved themselves otherwise. And they had just proven they weren't above anything.

“Liz?' she called, a tear running down her cheek.

Her parents were confused when their daughter’s friend walked into the room, a grave expression on her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her voice a whisper, before she could change her mind.

“Do you want me to compel the information from them?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? They won’t remember.”

“But I will.” Even though they might be wary of what she was, she couldn’t manipulate them like that. They were her Mom and Dad and despite their faults, she loved them. She couldn’t.

With a nod, Liz turned and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Cohen? I'm very sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to forget everything that happened tonight.” The two adults gazed into her blue eyes vacantly as she compelled their memories away. “When we go, all you will remember is that you had a nice dinner and a pleasant evening watching television together. You will forget all about Gabby being a witch and about her questions. Do you understand?”

They nodded vacantly, eyes unblinking.

“Good. Now, don't move until we've gone.” Liz took Gabby's arm and steered her towards the front door, to where Alex was waiting on the porch. When it closed behind them, she heard the faint sounds of her parents moving about inside, the television turning on.

Alex wrapped his arms around Gabby and let her sob into his shirt, Liz hugging her from behind. It took a few minutes before she could pull herself together, pushing her disappointment to one side, but not forgetting it.

“What do we do now?” She sniffed, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

“We go back to the manor and look for her ourselves,” Liz stated, kindly. “Whatever we need to do.”

Alex smiled and said in agreement, “Whatever we need to do.”

Once they arrived back at the manor, Liz pulled them into Sam's bedroom, where she opened up his laptop and gave it to Alex. The best place to start looking for Gabby's grandmother was online. They had access to genealogy websites, phone books, Google. And if that failed, perhaps it could help in other witchy ways.

“Vampires have the Internet?” Alex raised his eyebrows.

“Sam likes Wikipedia.” Liz shrugged. “They might have been born in the eighteen hundreds, but they do keep with the times you know.”

“I doubt she would be in the phone book.” Gabby scowled when she saw what Alex had pulled up on the screen. “She hid from my Grandfather for years before he died. It seems too simple.”

“There might be a chance that she listed it after,” Alex said, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “You never know.”

“We should try everything, even the obvious,” Liz said, while Alex brought up the online version of the phone book. She knew from conversations with Gabby that witches liked to send signs to one another, that looking in the most straightforward places would sometimes reap the most reward. Her friend was so worked up about actually finding her grandmother, that she had forgotten her own advice. That's why they were there to help her. “Perhaps she’s looking for you too and hoped you would find her one day.”

“There is only one Sophia Cohen in the whole United States in the phone book,” Alex said, peering at the laptop screen. “Mobile, Alabama.”

“That's only two and a half hours away,” exclaimed Liz. “Are you going to call her?”

“It's worth a try, I guess.” Gabby sighed nervously. Things like this seemed to happen to her more often. Signs, omens. It was like the universe was trying to tell her something or at least steer her in the right direction. She'd call the number and then she would know.

Pulling out her cell, she punched in the number and hit call. Her hands shook a little as it took a moment for the call to connect and start ringing. As each tone came, her stomach twisted and her heart beat hard against her chest. Forgetting that Liz could hear those kinds of things these days, she jumped as her friend’s hand rested on her shoulder.

“Hello?”

Gabby couldn't speak, the words died in her throat the second she heard her grandmother's voice. There was no doubt it was her. She knew it. Every part of her knew it.

It was a few seconds before the voice on the other end said, “Gabrielle?”

“Hello,” she managed to say.

“I knew I would hear from you one day,” came Sophia's voice. She sounded relieved, like she had been waiting a while longer than she thought she would.

“Grams,” she began hesitantly. “I know it's been a while and I'm sorry to call you like this out of the blue, but I didn't know what else to do.”

“Well,” Sophia began. “You better tell me about it. Perhaps I can help.”

“I'm in trouble,” she said, haltingly. “We're mixed up in something big, Grams. It has to do with the founding witches. Katrin, specifically. She took a friend hostage and our grimoire. We have to save them both before something terrible happens.”

Sophia was horrified. “The Betrayer?” She used the name Katrin was known by in witch legend.

“Yeah.”

“Well, my dear. That's a great deal of trouble.”

“Can I come see you?” She hoped she would say yes. Please say yes.

“Yes, come right away,” her voice became serious. “Gabrielle, tell no one. Do you understand? Tell no one where you are going. I can help you, but we must keep this from her.”

Gabby was relieved. “I understand. Two friends already know, but I trust them with more than my life.”

“Elizabeth and Alex.” Sophia sounded perfectly calm.

“How did you?” She had stopped being amazed at the things she could do a while ago, but being able to see whom she was with in a telephone conversation? That was a new one, but perhaps it was foresight.

Sophia continued, “There will be time for explanations later, dear. We need to get the grimoire back before we can help your friend. Please come as soon as you can. Here, take down the address.”

As Gabby scribbled down the address her Grams gave her on a piece of paper, she explained that they would be there in a few hours. “I need to go right now,” Gabby said to her friends, who were looking on, eager to hear what had happened.

“Don't you mean we?” Liz smiled.

“I can't ask you to come, you know that,” she said, knowing full well that this was her prerogative. She'd asked them to do so much already.

Alex hugged her. “Gabby, we have been friends for almost ten years. I'm not letting you go alone.”

“And of course I'm coming too!” Liz announced, pulling Gabby to her feet. “Let's go and commandeer Zac's car before he notices.” When Alex coughed and raised his eyebrows she said, “It's much better than your truck, sorry Alex.” She stilled.

It always weirded Gabby out when Liz stopped and listened to something. She looked like a statue and always had to check to see if she was still breathing.

A moment later her friend declared, “Right, they're not here. Let's go!”

By the time they reached the first signs that they had arrived in Mobile, it was almost eleven. The night was clear and bright, the moon almost full again. The town center was typical of the South. Manicured lawns, immaculate streets, quaint little teahouses and cafés, little topiaries and flowerbeds lined the main thoroughfare, along with a few random locals out enjoying the warm evening.

Sophia lived on the opposite side of town in a small house with a wild garden out the front that covered everything but the path to the door and the porch. Gabby instantly liked it. It seemed like a place a witch would live. Liz and Alex followed her to the front door, where she hesitantly knocked.

The door was opened an instant later and Gabby laid eyes on her grandmother for the first time in ten years. Her face bore a few more wrinkles than she remembered, but it was her Grams. Caramel skin, warm chestnut eyes and silver streaked hair. Just as she remembered. Before Sophia could speak, she stepped over the threshold and hugged her tightly.

“Gabrielle, dear.” She sounded surprised, but relieved all at the same time. “It's good to see you. My, how you've grown.”

“Grams,” she said, suddenly becoming her ten-year-old self again.

“I'm sorry dear,” her grandmother said glancing to Liz and Alex who hovered in the background. “But your vampire friend must wait outside. I cannot invite her in.”

“It's okay, Gabby. I understand.” Liz smiled, reassuringly. “Mrs. Cohen, if you don't mind, Alex and I will wait for you on the porch.”

Sophia smiled and nodded. “Of course, but we may be some time. Perhaps you may like to go get some rest. It is rather late.”

“That's okay,” Alex said. “We'd rather wait, if it’s all the same to you.”

She smiled and shook her head, looking to her granddaughter who stood beside her. “You have some loyal friends, Gabrielle. Human and vampire.”

“I know,” she replied. “I would do the same for them.”

Sophia gave her a look that said that she expected as much. After all, their family had history of befriending all kinds of supernaturals. She'd learnt as much from reading the grimoire.

“Come,” Sophia said, closing the door behind them.

For the second time that night, Alex and Liz waited for their friend outside. When they said as much to Sophia, that they didn't mind one bit, they really were telling the truth. Both of them would do whatever they needed to help get Aya and the grimoire back. She'd helped both of them in different ways. Alex, she saved from Katrin's rogue vampire. She helped Liz by bringing Zac back and telling her a few home truths that in hindsight, she really needed to hear.

Alex sat on the bench under one of the front windows and said, “Well, at least it's a nice night to sit outside.”

“Yeah,” Liz said, gazing at the stars above. If only Alex could see what she could.

“Do you think Mrs. Cohen will be able to help?” he asked.

Liz shrugged. “I don't know. Gabby seems to think so and she's never given us a reason to doubt her.”

“I just hope she can help her locate Aya.” It wasn't any secret that he liked the vampire, even if she intimidated him now that he knew that she was over two thousand years old. His own life seemed insignificant in relation to hers.

“I hope she can find her for Zac's sake,” Liz said as much to herself as to Alex.

“Zac's not my favorite person in the world, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“He's never been nice to me and I've just come to accept it. And I shouldn't,” Alex said. “I feel myself wanting to keep him away from Aya. Someone like that doesn't deserve her. If it wasn't for Zac, none of this would have happened. This whole situation is majorly screwed up.”

“He loves her, Alex.” Liz sighed. She wasn't blind. His reaction to her disappearance was as much evidence as she needed to convince her. “He might not see it yet, or have accepted it, but he does.”

“It doesn't excuse him,” he scowled.

“I know,” she said. “He's got a lot of issues. Some of which he hasn't even told Sam about. How he was turned... It was really screwed up, Alex. He should have died in eighteen sixty five. Instead he was forced to become a vampire. According to Sam, he wasn't like this at all when he was human. He was a good guy.”

“Sounds like being a vampire screwed with his head,” Alex said.

“That's not the half of it,” she said with a grimace. “Aya may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.”

“As long as he wakes up and sees it.”