by Multiple
He wiped a hand over his mouth. “I can taste him, Jade. Don’t lie to me. Especially when I almost faced the sun for defying my maker to come rescue you.” The hurt in him was so strong it gutted me, and I was empty when he gripped the sides of my face. “I’ve never done anything but love you and you betrayed me.”
My face crumbled then. All the emotions I tucked away – the fear, anger, remorse, and lust came spilling from my eyes. “If it had been anyone but him,” I said between gasps. “It was just a kiss, Jack. Nothing more.”
His green eyes filled with pools of black. Vampire tears. “Just a kiss, huh?” He picked up a balled up shirt and tossed it to me. “A kiss is everything.” He slid out of the back of the car and pulled on his slacks.
I got even more hysterical then, my body wracked with sobs. I never wanted to hurt him…especially not for some guy who left me high and dry. “Just let me-”
“Dawn is near,” he cut in, his back to me. “I don’t have time to go home so I have to go to ground. I left the car in working order.”
Before I could explain about Riley, Jack disappeared, fading into the purple haze of morning.
Chapter Twenty-One
Moral Support
I pushed the bathroom door closed and counted backwards from ten. Ten, nine, eight-
“Was it something you ate?” Mom asked through the door. “Maybe I should make you some broth?”
“No, Ma,” I snapped, closing the lid on top of the toilet and lowering myself on top of it.
“Well, if it’s that time of the month, I have a potion that’s great for cramps,” she offered.
“I don’t need a potion,” I said through clenched teeth. “Can I get a little peace?”
I knew one thing for sure…if I had known Jack had contacted my mother and told her that I had been kidnapped and was to be tried for mortal murders and exposing the supernatural world, he wouldn’t have gotten a piece of tail last night.
But he had, and my mother, who hadn’t been outside the Greene County line in 5 years, loaded up her old Ford F150 and made the trek to Raleigh. And when I got home at 6:35 AM, tear-streaked and devastated over Jack and generally pissed off at the world, my mother was sitting Indian style, meditating beside my front door. Surprise!
I leaned over to the sink and folded my arm, putting my head on top. Last night, I didn’t believe things could get much worse. I was wrong.
Before I could even step a foot inside the apartment, my mother had to clean the energies with sage. Then, because my fridge was desolate except for a bag of blood and a box of pizza, she dragged me to Harris Teeter for a shopping spree. Three hundred fifty-five dollars and sixteen cents later, she’d needed help unloading her massive suitcases. Plural. Because she wasn’t leaving my side until The Watchers cleared my name.
All of a sudden I wanted the Trial to have happened like, yesterday.
“Jade, where do you keep your crystals?” I heard the opening and closing of cabinets. “Actually, never mind dear, I’ll just find them on my own.”
Flushing the toilet to keep up appearances, I pushed my way out of the bathroom. She knew better. If there was one way to get under a witch’s skin, it was rummaging through her magical supplies.
I walked over to where she stood, peering into my glass bottles. “Eye of newt, gossamer wings…hey!”
I snatched them from her grip and stacked them the way I like them before closing the cabinets. “I’m a necromancer, mom. Crystalwork is for-” I stopped, snapping my mouth shut.
She scoffed, crossing her thin arms against her chest. “My gods,” she said, shaking her head. “The city has turned my daughter into an elitist!”
I rolled my eyes, turning around to get a tumbler. I filled it with water, murmuring a small charm for strength. “Don’t be dramatic. I’m just saying that my training kind of…discounts the old world traditions. Crystalwork is just kinda hokey, like sweeping to create a magical space and riding a broom.”
“Nonsense,” she said, walking to her mountain of belongings. “The old ways are just as effective as your newfangled sorcery.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, finishing the water. “I tried scrying for my keys the other day and it led me to an old pair of shoes.”
My mother was on her hands and knees, scattering books and papers all over the floor. “Magic only works if the wielder believes in it. If you think something is bullshit, then your result will be, well, crap.”
I cringed as she pulled out even more junk, littering my freshly swept floor. I walked out of the kitchen, kneeling beside her. “Maybe if you told me what you were looking for, I could help you find it.”
She kept searching through it, her eyes darting back and forth. “If the mess bothers you so much, I know an amazing tidy up spell that works like a charm.”
The first thing that came to mind was, “Because your house is so tidy?” but I decided against it, massaging my temple.
“I like cleaning up,” I said, moving a few papers back to the pile. “I get a sense of satisfaction when I do it with my own two hands.”
She paused, looking up from the mess. “Like your father. Something he picked up from the military. And boy, did that man look delicious in his dress whites.” She chuckled to herself, turning back the hands of time. “How he put up with me all those years, gods only know.” She looked back down and snatched up a piece of paper. “Found it!”
I peered at it in vain. Only my mother could read her chicken scratch. “What is it?”
“A spell to recall a forgotten item,” she said, scanning the page.
I shot another glance at her small mountain of belongings. “What else could you have possibly brought?”
She looked at me like she did when I was six and accidentally turned her familiar, a cat named Midnight, into a plush stuffed animal. “Your history, of course. The dress your great great great etcetera grandmother wore during her Trial in 1694.”
“Grandma Proctor,” I said, surprised. “Why do I need her dress?”
“Well, first and foremost, for luck.”
I cleared my throat. “Uh, mom, Grandma Proctor was found guilty. And hung.”
“Details,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Her death was the beginning of our magical bloodlines, Jade. Where our power originates from.”
“Ah,” I said with a nod. “So I’m wearing it for good luck. What else?”
“Well,” she said, pulling out a ziplock bag of colored candles. “It shows respect. Reverence. You’re accused of a flagrant disregard of the sanctity of magic and the supernatural realm, so you’ll need all the help you can get.”
I stuck my tongue out at her.
“And lastly,” she continued, laying the candles out on a scarf one by one, “because it’s one helluva dress.”
She put aside a yellow, blue, and silver candle from the bunch. “What do those candles symbolize?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is this Occult 101?”
“Jade,” she said with warning in her tone. “What do they symbolize? Why am I using them?”
“Yellow is for intellect and memory,” I answered after a dramatic sigh. “Blue for psychic protection, and silver for astral energies and channeling memories.”
“Good,” she said with a small smile. “You absorbed some of what I taught.” She lined each candle in a holder on my altar then sank to her knees. “Audio meus pects pectoris, tribuo mihi regimen. Ostendo mihi semita.” She finished the spell and then blew a gust of air over the candles, setting the candles alight.
I watched in awe as her old leather trunk rattled then popped open.
I pulled myself from the floor and padded to where it stood. I glanced inside and gasped. Tucked beside a flowered housecoat and a southern cookbook was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. It was the color of the moonlit sky, black and gray glimmering as the light danced on the fabric. The dress was soft to the touch, like my fingers were grazing a cloud. A brown cord laced up the corseted back and when I
touched it, I could feel the love and care that went into every stitch.
“It’s beautiful,” I gushed, holding the fabric to my cheek. I’d never really been one for fancy dresses or gowns – I’d never really had a reason. I’d skipped the prom, and the one handfasting I’ve been to was casual, with the bride walking down the aisle in jeans and Chucks.
I glanced over at Mom. Her ebony hair created a dark curtain that trailed to the floor. She was frozen, her eyes glazed over. “Mom?”
After a moment, her body shuddered and she sat up straight, running a hand through her hair.
“They were t-talking,” she said hoarsely. “For once they had something helpful to say.”
I could tell from the way she avoided looking at me that her voices were chatting about me. “What did they say, Mom?”
She massaged the bridge of her nose then started murmuring to herself, counting out something on her fingers.
“Mom?” I repeated. “You’re starting to freak me out.”
She turned back to the altar and snuffed each flame with her bare fingers. “You really should have told me about the Trial sooner. We would have had more time.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat. “You know something. About my Trial.”
She nodded.
“And it’s obviously bad.”
“We just need more time,” she said, turning back to her bag of supplies. “We just need more time.”
“Mom,” I said, my heart screaming in my chest. “You have to tell me. Before I have a stroke in the middle of the room.”
She turned to me, her face brightening. “That’s a brilliant idea! Illness would give us more time to prepare and find out who is behind all this.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” I said through clenched teeth, knocking on wood. I stomped to where she sat rustling through her magic books. I sank to my knees beside her and put my hand over hers. “Tell me.”
She stopped flipping through her books and raised her eyes to mine. Her lips were trembling. She was scared shitless. The only times I’d ever seen her this afraid was when I told her dad was talking about cutting off summer visits and when she had to leave the house for my high school graduation.
“It’s your Trial,” she said finally. “It’s soon. Real soon.”
I scoffed. “I knew that already.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head and turning back to the books. “It’s beneath the next full moon, Jade. In-”
“Two days,” I finished, my eyes widening. “My Trial is in two days and the only defense I have is, ‘I didn’t do it.’?”
Mom gripped my hand tight, her voice strong and sure. “We’ll figure something out. We have to.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Playing Nice
Two days. Well technically, one and a half. For the first half of the day, Mom and I’d poured over every book about occult investigation and the truth behind who killed Kenny and Amy. It had been a waste. We didn’t know anything more than we had that morning.
So I’d decided that I was blocking out everything – the likelihood that I was gonna get a really close haircut in a few days, that my boyfriend thought I’d shagged a were, and that I was dying before I could slap Riley upside his head.
I mean, where the hell did he get off? He had no right to stroll in and out of my life as he pleased. He couldn’t crush my heart then look at me like time hadn’t passed. And then to have the nerve to kiss me, knowing that there was a piece of me that yearned for it.
Damn it.
I stared up at the vaulted ceiling in my bedroom and remembered the move in. Bruce, I think his name was, was one of the movers. I remember thinking he looked a lot like my dad – short, military style haircut, strong rugged hands, and no-nonsense lines on his face…until he smiled.
“Awfully nice place you got here,” he’d said. “Your parents must be proud.”
I’d flashed him a sad smile. The last thing my father had said to me before I packed up my Bug, my first gift from NACA, was that if I took their offer and used my ‘devil powers’ for them, I would never be allowed to come back. Ever. I’d tried to explain to him that I’d always had and would always have magical ability and if the abilities were evil, then so was I. He’d cried then…the first time I’d ever seen. We’d embraced for a moment before he ripped himself away and locked himself in his prayer room.
His prayers weren’t answered. I accepted the job and moved to North Carolina.
As a witch, a necromancer, I’d seen and done amazing things and made more money than any other 21-year-old without the last name Hilton. When I trained, I’d learned how to hone my skills and block out the voices from the All that haunted my mother. I had a super nice apartment and car in my name. But what had I given it up for? Giving jilted spouses an extra buck or two? What the hell was I dying for?
I closed my eyes and tried to make everything go away.
“Jade?” Mom whispered at my doorway. “You asleep?”
“No, Ma,” I cried out with a groan. “But I’m trying. Really, really hard.”
“You can go on in,” she said, stepping away from the door.
“Mom, I don’t want to see…” My voice trailed off when I saw my visitor. Jack was standing there, his shaggy hair tussled, his face like chiseled stone.
I pulled myself up, fixing my t-shirt and pulling the blanket over my naked legs. “Thanks Mom,” I said sarcastically. “I’m not even decent.”
“The guy has seen you in your birthday suit,” she said from the living room. “Your concern with modesty is a little late.”
Jack smirked, then went back to scowling.
Neither of us moved an inch, waiting for the other to take the leap.
“It’s awfully quiet in there,” Mom piped nosily.
“Ugh!” I grunted, throwing back the covers. I marched to the door and slammed it shut, giving Jack and me a little privacy.
“So what do you want?” I said, breaking the ice.
“What do I want?” he repeated icily. “Am I inconveniencing you, Jade?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” I sighed. “You were the one who stormed away like a spoiled teenager.”
“And you’re the one who couldn’t wait to kiss the first were that showed you a little attention.”
I balled my fists in anger. “How dare you? Now I’m a whore?”
“If the shoe fits.”
“God damn it, Jack!” I said, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. “It was one kiss. One stupid kiss that lasted less than a minute.”
“I don’t care if it was a second or a lifetime,” he said hotly.
“So that’s it,” I said slowly. “We’re done?”
Jack moved to the edge of the bed and sat down with a sigh.
I scooted down to the edge of the bed, side to side. “I’m so sorry, Jack.” I reached out and touched his thigh. “I’m so sorry.”
He slid over, out of my touch. “I didn’t come over to relieve your guilty conscience. I have news.”
I let my head drop to my hands. “I don’t think I can handle-”
“Barius is dead,” he said flatly. “Foul play. And he claimed he had a name for me before he was…” Jack paused, making a face. “Incinerated.”
The whole “kill it with fire” thing is not just a nifty meme but a pretty damn effective technique when dealing with most supernaturals. The problem is not a whole lot of them just sit idly by as they’re barbecued.
I shrugged, rolling a twist of hair around my finger. “No biggie. My Trial is tomorrow and I have no idea who’s framing me. But I have a killer dress to wear. It’s kinda ironic. And cyclical and all that. My great great great great whatever wore it when they swung her from a tree and now I’m gonna wear it when I’m beheaded. Or set on fire. Whichever tickles The Watchers’ fancy.”
Jack turned to me, his eyes searching mine. “Since when do you just lie down and die? What happened to the fighter?”
I pus
hed off the bed and knelt down to grab my pants. “I’m out of time, Jack. Unless you have some sort of miracle-”
“Miracle-ish,” he cut in. “A succubus. Who saw who offed Barius.”
“A succubus?” I repeated. “The bloodthirsty, manipulative power suckers? That’s your miracle plan?”
“It’s better than nothing.”
“The word of a succubus is about as effective as a lie detector.”
“Gods damn it, Jade!” he snapped, his green eyes flashing dangerously. “If you won’t fight for yourself-” he stopped, collecting himself. “I’m not going to just stop trying. If she can help, give us anything useful, then we’re going to hear what she has to say. Period.”
“Why do you care?” I said stubbornly, jutting my lip out.
He scoffed. “I’m not the one that forgot they had a significant other.”
Ouch.
He snapped off the bed, angling toward the door. “So we’re going to see her. I’ve already contacted her and she’s willing to give us some time before she hunts.”
“I-”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He didn’t even bother to look at me before pushing out the door. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
I gazed at the closed door and the heavy silence he left behind. I wanted to run back in the living room, tell Mom to get lost for the night, then spend it with Jack and I screwing each other’s brains out. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake up and inhale the pillows, the sheets, and my skin, breathing in his intoxicating scent.
But I screwed up.
If I marched into the living room and told Jack it was go time, he’d probably roll his eyes. Or worse…he’d look at me like he had a few minutes ago, hurt and disappointed.
With the clock ticking, I didn’t want to stare into the barrel of the gun without squaring things with him. Or at least explaining the kiss, so he didn’t think I betrayed his trust for just any were.
I applied a quick swipe of chapstick and grabbed my purse. I’d talk to him about Riley on the way to Chapel Hill to meet the succubus. I’d make him understand.
