by R. L. Weeks
I couldn’t move my arms or legs without intense pain.
“The first time is always the worst,” my grandma croaked.
My eyes sprung open, and I saw her sitting on the other side of a row of long, iron bars. I was inside a jail cell, but the spider webs, crumbling brick, and furnace in the corner told me we weren’t in the Ridgeview town lockup. We were in the basement of the manor, and I was being held prisoner inside my own home.
“Where’s Pierce?”
The memories of my sister’s skull cracked open and her brain matter oozing onto the cobblestone path did not evade me. I still had hope though. If Pierce was dead, I would feel it, and something told me she was still alive. Tommy had promised to save her, and I trusted him.
“You should worry about yourself, child.” My grandma huffed. “Your sister is fine though. Tommy stopped her soul from crossing over and brought her back. Her body will take a while to heal, however. As will yours.”
The cage door creaked open, scraping against the concrete floor. Vera tossed a fleece blanket into the cell and over my body. I gladly grabbed it and wrapped it around my shoulders and knees. I pulled my feet beneath me as I struggled to sit up straight. My mind swirled with millions of thoughts, none of them coherent.
Tommy loved me. My sister wasn’t dead. Tommy was a witch. Axel was a vampire. I was nothing.
I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders and remained on the cold, hard floor. “Where’s Tommy now?”
“He’s asleep in one of the guest rooms upstairs. That kind of magic takes a lot of energy and strength. You need to sleep too,” she insisted.
I stared at my grandma and wondered if she could feel me looking. Her distant, blank stare gave no indication of what, if anything, she could still see. She was right. I did need sleep, but I needed something else even more. “I’m not sleeping until I get some answers.”
I tried to be serious and stern, but Vera just smiled knowingly.
“I’m sure there are many things you’re wondering about—”
“You got that right!”
“But you need a clear mind to process it all. You’re likely not to like what you’re going to find out about yourself and our family,” she warned.
My shoulders dropped. If there was one thing I knew, it was that there was no changing grandma’s mind once it was made up about something. Pierce and I had yet to win an argument with her, and the stubborn Mendoza attitude had been passed down to both me and my father, so I knew better than to keep pushing. Besides, now I knew my sister was alive and I could relax a little, even though Axel was still on the loose somewhere.
“It was Axel. Did you or Tommy see him?”
“I’m afraid not, but you don’t need to worry. We know full well who Axel is. Reinforcements are on their way and will put a stop to that madman once and for all. It’s been decades since I could live in peace. I’ll be glad to finally have repaid my debt to the Black Lilies when this is all over with…” Vera trailed off the end of her sentence as though she were speaking to herself.
“Reinforcements?”
“Yes, more witches. Tommy can’t handle Axel on his own. He’s too strong since feeding on Pierce for so long. Your sister is lucky you killed her when you did; otherwise, Axel may have sucked her dry, and if a witch is completely bled out, her soul cannot be restored.”
“What? I didn’t kill Pierce. Axel did! His f-f-fangs were in her th-th-throat,” I stuttered, spitting out the words I didn’t even believe I had to say.
“Axel gave you a hell of a head start, child.” Grandma paused to cough. “But your tumble over the porch is what did her in.”
“No.” I tried to get up off the basement floor, but my bones and muscles still ached. My legs shook as I grabbed hold of the floor-to-ceiling iron bars caging me in. I steadied myself and stared into my grandma’s vacant eyes. “I didn’t kill her. It was an accident.”
I didn’t know if I was trying to convince her or myself. Grandma just smiled and sat back against the wooden chair. She held out a small, four-ounce mason jar full of green liquid in her open palm.
“Drink this,” she said.
“No way.” I shook my head and pulled the fleece blanket even tighter around myself.
“You don’t trust your grandmother?”
“There’s a lot you haven’t told me, Grandmother. I don’t know if I can trust you,” I admitted.
“Drink this. Tommy made it for you. It will help you feel better.”
Tommy.
I wanted to see him again. I had a lot of questions for Tommy too, but I also needed to make sure he was okay. There was no way I could walk out of this cell with the way my body ached, however.
I reluctantly took the jar from Grandma. Pain shot through my fingers as I twisted the cap off. I shook my hand and sniffed the foul-smelling liquid inside. Gawd. Whatever was inside was worse than the kale-and-veggie smoothies they always sampled at the Four Seasons Gym back home.
Manhattan seemed farther away than ever before.
I pinched my nose, took a deep breath, and chose to trust Tommy, then guzzled the thick, earthy-tasting potion like it was vodka hidden in my water bottle back at our fancy prep school. I choked back the last of it and set the empty mason jar on the floor. My legs didn’t hurt as much when I bent them this time, and I could feel whatever was in the drink warming the blood in my veins from my heart to the tips of my toes.
“Take this too.” Grandma threw the silver bracelet into the cage, the one I had desperately been trying to get when I had been possessed. “Don’t take it off.”
“I wish you’d told me what it was for.”
“Would you have believed me if I did?”
She made a fair point. I pulled the bracelet on and closed my eyes. “I’m tired, Grandma,” I whispered. I was starting to feel dizzy, though my body was getting stronger, and fatigue was setting in hard.
“Can you make it upstairs?”
I didn’t know if I could or not, but I nodded anyway. We hobbled together through the basement and up the stairs toward the old servants’ quarters of the manor. This area of the house hadn’t been used in decades. The floors had holes rotted straight through them, and the ceiling was gray with cobwebs.
“Be careful, Grandma, there’s lots of holes,” I warned.
“I know where the holes are!” she barked back as she swept and tapped her cane across a clearly maintained path.
I followed her lead and tried not to lean on the fragile old woman too much. The more steps I took, the stronger I began to feel, and before we had exited the dingy hallway leading to God knew where, I was standing upright and walking on my own.
“Where are we, Grandma?”
“At the manor.”
No shit, I thought to myself, careful not to offend Vera. “This house feels so much bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.”
I saw a sly smile breech Vera’s thin, pale lips, which told me there was still much more I didn’t know about the manor, my family, or myself. Vera reached out with one of her spindly hands and let her long nails trail along the dusty wall. The wallpaper was curling from the top, and brown water and mildew stains streaked from the trim to the floor. The walls were dotted with spider nests, but somehow Grandma’s witchy fingertips managed to miss each one.
I almost ran right into her when she halted, just inches from three bookcases lining the wall. On each shelf were jars of dried herbs, candles, and old books. None of them looked like they had been touched in years. Vera pulled a brown leather-bound book halfway off the shelf at eye level, and I jumped back when the middle bookcase suddenly sprang open, revealing a steep staircase leading upward.
“Are you coming?” Vera didn’t bother waiting for me. She started slowly up the stairs.
“Where does this lead?” I was hesitant to follow her. I looked back over my shoulder and tried to weigh my options. I felt completely back to normal now, except for being tired, and I desperately wanted
to put clothes on, but what kind of person would I be if I left my grandma—a mostly senile, blind, fragile old woman—alone in the most dangerous part of this freaky house?
A shadowy creature with long black hair darted across the end of the dark hallway a few yards away.
“Eek!” I shrieked and squeezed behind the bookcase shutting without me inside.
Of course Great-Aunt Dana was back, but at least she couldn’t snake her way inside me again. I was prepared this time and had on the protection bracelet Grandma had given me. I wouldn’t leave it sitting on the dresser ever again. In fact, I didn’t plan on ever taking it off again. I rubbed the smooth stones of the bracelet as I skipped up the steps to catch up with Vera.
“My sister is tormenting you, isn’t she?” Vera asked knowingly.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Good to know you’re wearing your bracelet.”
“How do you know I’m wearing it?”
“Dana would’ve possessed you again by now if you weren’t”
“Oh” was all I could respond.
I yearned to run ahead of Vera to see exactly what our destination was—and also put more distance between myself and Dana—but I stuck by my grandma’s side instead.
“I know about Dana’s murder. I know she feels like you betrayed her by still working for the witches even after her husband killed her in the ritual.” My words were abrupt and spilled from my mouth before I could process what I was saying. Having another spirit inside my body had been like being two people at once. I knew Dana’s motivations, her fears, what brought her joy, and how hurt she was when she saw her family go right along their merry ways after her death. Dana was angry, and I was angry for her.
“It’ll take a few days to wear off,” Vera mentioned.
“What will wear off?”
“Dana’s emotions. They should be completely gone in a few hours as long as you keep your bracelet on.”
“How did you know I was feeling Dana’s emotions?”
Grandma paused at the top of the stairs. There was no door, no opening. Just a wall.
“I’ve been around the Supernatural Order for a long time. I’ve picked up a little bit of information about ghosts and possessions along the way.”
Vera reached up and pulled on the wall sconce. The wall slid open, creating a space just a few inches taller than Grandma’s head. I ducked and followed her through the space. We stepped out of the east wing library fireplace—well, faux fireplace apparently—that doubled as the secret passageway into the room forbidden to my sister and me until recently. We’d spent the last several days locked in this room, studying the books we could find written in English.
“Jackson!” Pierce’s voice rang out of the dreary room.
“Pierce?” I ran past Grandma through the stacks of books and stopped in the middle of the large, open study area. The ornate wood table was still stacked with the books we hadn’t put away yet, and my sister sat at the head with candles glowing around her on the floor, nearby shelves, and on top of our books. What surprised me most, however, was seeing Tommy standing behind my sister’s chair with one hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, Jackie.” Tommy squirmed. “We need to talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tommy
Jackson stood in front of me wrapped in nothing but a fleece blanket. I couldn’t help but wish the blanket would slip just a little, but I had already taken things too far with the girl. I’d meant it when I told her I loved her, but this wasn’t going to end any other way.
Pierce’s real parents had been waiting patiently, and I was already a week overdue with getting her home safely. I never should have let my feelings for Jackson stall my progress on getting close to Pierce. I had failed pretty miserably in falling for my target’s sister, especially when the target was potentially the most powerful Black Lily witch in history, but now it was time to get back on track. Pierce dying showed me that loud and clear.
“Pierce, are you okay?” Jackson ran to her sister without looking at me.
I was amazed at how strong their bond was even though they weren’t true sisters and each of them now knew it. The last piece of the puzzle left to put together was who Pierce’s real parents were, and I was the only one with that information. Not even Vera knew the origins of the prophesized baby girl. The old woman had done a fine job of keeping the family secrets over the last nineteen years, however. I had to give her that.
Pierce wrapped her arms around Jackson as she dropped to her knees and buried her face in Pierce’s lap.
“I’m okay,” Pierce assured her as she stroked her sister’s long, wavy dark hair. “I’m okay. Tommy saved me. He brought me back.”
Jackson looked up at me with so much love and gratitude in her eyes it broke my heart knowing I was moments away from breaking her. She stood and rushed toward me, then collapsed against my chest. I held her blanket-wrapped body against mine and kissed the top of her head.
“We brought you some clothes,” I whispered.
I pointed at the skinny jeans, long-sleeve Ridgeview High T-shirt, and Vans I had grabbed from the pile of clean clothes on her bed.
“You can go change between the stacks if you want,” I offered, but Jackson was already maneuvering the blanket over her shoulders so she could step into the pants without me seeing too much.
I looked away out of respect regardless.
“Okay,” she said after a minute.
I turned back toward her and saw the disappointment on her face. She had wanted me to see her. Even after everything she had been through in the last two weeks, sex was still on her mind. I so wished I could fulfill her desires, but she needed to know the truth, and the truth made it impossible for us to continue whatever it was we’d had. Besides, she was only seventeen, and I was on a mission far more important than my love life. The entire coven’s future was at stake.
“All right, everyone, sit down,” I announced.
Vera sat at the opposite end of the table. Jackson sat next to Pierce, holding her hands. I slid into the seat next to Jackson and let my leg rest against hers in the large, oversized leather-upholstered chairs. I wanted to be close to her one last time.
“I’m going to start at the beginning. Vera, feel free to jump in whenever you feel the need.”
Vera nodded toward me.
I spent the next two hours explaining the Black Lily Coven to both girls. Most of what I told them, they had read about in the library books. The fact that Jackson’s grandfather was a werewolf who hunted other werewolves was news to Jackson, though Axel had informed Pierce on the matter already. Vera’s eyes narrowed when I spoke of Nathaniel Harrison. He had done a great service for the Black Lily Coven in keeping the power-seeking werewolves off our land, but Vera’s debt to the coven ran even deeper than the alliance between Nathaniel—the only werewolf in existence whom Witches didn’t hate—and the coven.
“What is he talking about, Grandma?” Jackson asked, interrupting me.
Vera cleared her throat and wrung her hands. “Humans and the creatures of the Supernatural Order can’t breed. It’s not possible, but I loved your grandfather so much, and he wasn’t supposed to marry me in the first place. We lived desperately, doing jobs for the witches. I even trained as a hunter myself.”
Vera coughed but I could tell she was proud of herself. I had heard stories of the great hunter Vera Harrison, including how she had been nearly completely blinded by a siren, but those were her stories to tell.
“What happened between you and Grandpa?” Pierce asked quietly.
Vera’s unseeing eyes shifted toward Pierce.
“I made a deal with a witch. She conjured a potion to allow us to have a baby. George was born because of that potion. The witch said I would be called upon during a critical moment when they would need my help. The day happened to be the same day Pierce was born.” Vera crossed her arms over her chest.
I could almost see the questions swirling through Jackson’s m
ind. George, her father, wasn’t supposed to exist. He only existed through magic, which meant Jackson also shouldn’t exist. I saw dozens of emotions pass over her face, but the ones she kept coming back to were hurt and confusion.
“George and Maria couldn’t conceive after they got married. When Tommy’s parents came to me about the baby, I knew it was the perfect chance for me to repay my debt and give my son and his wife a child. Little did I know he would cut me out of my life when I told him who Pierce really was when she was seven years old! You can be damned sure once Pierce is out of here, those witches won’t be using my house as their personal magical library anymore though. You can take the little key with you too!”
“Dad knew?” Jackson asked excitedly. She stood from her chair so fast it fell backward.
I stood next to her and put my hands on her shoulders. Rage burned across her face, but she calmed when I looked down into her eyes.
“Oh, no! Don’t do that again,” she snapped and broke free of my hands.
I frowned down at her. “Do what?”
“Whatever spell you have that makes me feel all good and stuff!”
“I didn’t put a spell on you,” I insisted. “It’s one of my powers. I radiate a calming aura over everything within a three-foot bubble of me.”
“It’s okay, Jackie. He’s like me, and he saved me,” Pierce interjected hoarsely.
Coming back from the dead was hard work. She’d be exhausted for days as she replenished her magic supply, and I was just as tired if not more. The ritual had used nearly all my magic to bring Pierce’s soul back to her body and heal her and before I had already been exhausted from my run-in with Axel. They had no idea it had been my fault he got to Pierce. He’d caught me off guard while I was watching Jackson from the woods—yet another reason it was time for me to go. The girl was a dangerous distraction.
“Yeah, well what’s not okay is how Dad knew you were a witch and he didn’t tell you!” Jackson exclaimed, snapping at her sister.
“He also never told anyone you were a werewolf,” I blurted.
Jackson’s face fell and her mouth gaped open. “I am not a werewolf.”
