“Has your gift even presented itself yet?”
Leah froze.
Paige narrowed her eyes.
Leah sighed and shook her head twice, her expression sullen.
Paige turned and looked at her sister. “Rachel planted Leah. Gave us a sob story so we’d take her in.”
“Knowing we’d take her in anyway.” Leslie’s dark eyes flared, anger seething from them.
“Yeah.” Paige turned back to her daughter. “The question is why.”
Leah opened her mouth, putting her hands on the floor.
“No. No, no.” Paige gripped Leah’s ankles and pulled her knees from in front of her chest, then grabbed the journals and pulled them out of Leah’s shirt. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“But—”
“Nope.” Paige wrapped her arm around the journals and maneuvered around her sister to get to the stair railing. She stopped there and looked at her daughter.
Leah stood beside the wall of boxes, her shoulders slumped, her blond hair a tangled mess.
“Look, Lee. You don’t know me from Jack, but you did once. You trusted me. You loved me. And I never used you against anyone you loved.”
A frown furrowed Leah’s brow.
“I’m not going to start now. I’m taking the books. You’re not allowed into Grandma’s workroom without her there with you.”
“But I didn’t mean—”
“Aside from that, you’re free to do whatever you want. Unpack. Repack. Call Rachel and let her know you’re ready for her to come pick you up. I don’t care.”
“You—” Leah’s shoulder’s relaxed, her expression folded and perplexed. “You want me to leave?”
“If that’s what you want, I’m not going to hold you here.”
She blinked.
Paige shrugged. “You’re not a pawn to play in a great game, Lee. You’re a girl. You’re not my daughter. You’re not Rachel’s grandchild. You’re not a savior for anyone. You’re just Leah. And you’re the only one who decides what that means and what that stands for. So, decide.”
Leah stared at the floor, her thought lost.
“What are you doing? Where are you going? Where do you want to be?”
That might be a lot to heap on a twelve-year-old girl, but she had to figure that out for herself. Paige had to trust that she would do the right thing.
Or not. And be okay with her decision, either way.
It took Leah approximately forty-nine minutes to not be okay with it. She came down the stairs and to the dining table, an anxious expression on her face. “Paige.”
“You don’t get to call me that.” Paige didn’t even look up from the journal. “You can call me Mom, or don’t call me anything at all.”
“You’re not my mom.”
“I assure you, honey,” Leslie said, frowning at the book in front of her, shoving a corn chip in her mouth, “she is. You can actually read this?”
“Yeah.” Paige gestured to the page in front of her. “This is talking about a kind of demon that can change shape at a whim.”
“Really?”
They’d over-taken the dining room when they’d come down from the attic with the journals. When Alma had awakened, she’d brought another stack of really old looking books. “Showed up at the doorstep one day,” was all she said before she disappeared again.
“This could be German.” Leslie glared at Paige. “When did you learn to read German?”
“Never.”
“Okay. Read this and tell me what it says.”
Paige gave her sister a disgruntled look and leaned over. The letters started out in a different language, maybe Aramaic? She didn’t know. It was a flowery alphabet. Within the span of a blink, the letters shifted and became words she understood. “’My mother will not accept me for what I am. She doesn’t see me as her daughter anymore. I’m nothing more than trash she can throw away.’”
“Whoa.” Leslie shook her head. “So, this whole ‘I don’t like your gift so I’m running away thing’ is normal in the Whiskey family.”
Paige winced and shook her head. “But look at us. We’re stronger than that.”
“Where’d you get those?” Leah asked in a small voice.
“What?” Paige turned back to her own book, but watched her daughter from her peripheral.
Leah stared at the books on the table as if she was looking at a monster. A monster she recognized.
Paige turned, propping her elbow on the table. “What’s going on?”
“Huh?” Leah looked up, her eyes wide. “Nothing.”
“Did Rachel send you after these books?”
“All I found were the journals.” Leah squared her shoulders. “Where’d you find the other books?”
Something about her expression, the set of her lips, the fear in her eyes told Paige she was right. “What business is it of yours?”
“You’re going to kill people.” Leah balled her hands into fists. “You’re dangerous and you don’t need anything to make you more dangerous than that.”
Wow. Rachels’ words coming from Leah’s lips. Awesome. “Really?”
“You’re worse than ISIS.”
Paige stood and folded her arms over her chest, maintaining a thin level of calm over the roiling rage burning in her chest. This was the crap Rachel was feeding her daughter? That Paige was worse than a bunch of terrorists? She’d watched the footage of the man tied, caged, and lit on fire. There was no way she was worse than that, but someone had made her daughter believe that? A whole new low. “Is that so?”
“You have the power of Hell behind you.” Leah leaned forward, her lips curled with hate, her eyes tinged with fear. “The hate in this world is because of you.”
“That’s impressive, Pea,” Leslie said, standing next to her sister, imitating Paige’s stance. “All the hate in all the world. Your doing. Impressive.”
“Imagine what the world will be like after she reads those books.” Leah turned to Leslie. “Only she can read them.”
“How do you know that?” Paige asked.
“She’s been listening, Pea,” Leslie muttered.
“I knew before,” Leah said with a toss of her head and triumphant smile. “Grandma told me.”
“What did Rachel tell you?” Paige asked carefully, concentrating not on the rage, but on her breath.
“She told me that you already control Hell. That Satan answers to you.”
It took everything Paige had not to laugh out loud. Satan. Answering to her.
“And that the information in these books will bring down Heaven.”
“Interesting.”
“Heaven is the only way any of us will be saved.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. How deep was the brainwashing? How lucky had Paige and Leslie been not to be raised by Rachel? What about Nick? Could they trust him? Was he as mentally warped as Leah?
And how could Paige break this? How did she break through and find the girl under all the mind warping?
Alma stepped into the room from the hallway, her white eyes narrowed, her wrinkled lips pursed.
Paige turned to Leslie. “Well, now we know Rachel’s play. She planted Leah here to steal these books.”
“Angels,” Leslie grunted, unfolding her arms and turning back to the books.
“Good bet.” That did little to dampen the anger in Paige’s chest. She wanted so badly to lash out at her daughter.
Leah had said the words, but those were Rachel’s words, Rachel’s thoughts. Rachel deserved her wrath. Not Leah.
Leslie thumped her book. “We need these translated so the rest of us can help you with research.”
Paige turned away from her daughter. “Agreed. If the answer to stopping the angels is in here—”
“Even you can’t stop them,” Leah said, her tone high.
“Rachel just said I could.” Paige smiled at her daughter.
Leah’s eyes rounded in horror as the reality of the moment crashed down around her. �
��I need those books.”
The urgency in Leah’s tone sent off warning sirens.
Cawli stirred in the back of Paige’s mind, his hackles raised.
“Why?” Paige asked, forcing calm into her voice. “What’s wrong?”
Leslie looked up, glancing between Leah and Paige. “What did I miss?”
Leah shook her head, her shoulders tensing as she shifted her weight from one foot to the next. She flexed and relaxed her hands repeatedly, blinking wildly, her breath coming in quicker.
“What’s going on, Lee?” Paige set her hand on Leah’s shoulder.
Leah pulled away, panting.
Not taking no for an answer, Paige grabbed Leah’s shoulders and gave her a slight shake. “What’s going on? Why are you so desperate? What’s wrong?”
Leah’s brown eyes roved the kitchen like a cornered, wounded animal.
Fuck it. Paige pulled Leah into a tight hug.
Leah fought, screaming, flailing, kicking.
Paige didn’t let go. She pressed Leah’s head into her chest, her other arm pressing her shoulders close. “You’ll be okay, Lee. Here, you’re safe. Here, you’re safe.”
“No,” she sobbed.
“Yes.” Paige pressed Leah’s ear closer to her heart. “You are safe.”
Leah settled and, after a long moment, her arms wrapped around Paige’s waist, her fingers digging painfully into her back.
“You’re safe here, Lee. Nothing bad can hurt you.”
“The angels can,” she whispered.
“Angels can,” Paige agreed. “But they’d have to get through Grandma Alma’s wards first.”
Leah trembled.
Paige’s heart twisted. What could have a child so terrified? She held onto her daughter and just poured as much love as she could in the girl.
Alma set a hand on Leah’s back.
The girl flinched, but then stilled.
Paige pressed a kiss onto the top of her blonde head. “It’s just Grandma Alma. She can keep you safer than anyone.”
Leah buried her face in Paige’s chest and sobbed.
Leslie stared at the child, her face folded in consternation.
Paige shook her head and lifted one shoulder.
“What happened?” Alma asked softly. “What did Rachel tell you?”
“It wasn’t Grandma,” Leah muttered, her sobs quieting.
“Who was it?” Paige demanded with a low growl.
“Michael.”
Paige’s ears burned and the heat rose around her head. Her last run-in with Michael had been rather less than pleasant.
A cool hand touched her arm. Alma’s. “Don’t.”
Paige had no idea what she wasn’t supposed to do, but she was pissed. Livid. Rachel was one thing, but to send an angel to speak to her daughter? An archangel? No.
“He said—” Leah stopped herself, then wrapped her arms tighter around Paige. “He said my gift is evil.”
“Why? I thought you said it hadn’t developed yet.”
“It did. I’ve been hiding it.”
Paige understood that all too well. “You don’t summon demons, do you?”
“No.” Leah pulled away, her red-rimmed brown eyes searching Paige’s face. “I bring souls back from the other side.”
“She pulls souls from Heaven?” Alma asked incredulously.
Paige had a slightly better understanding of the Gate between Heaven and Hell and Earth since she had one residing inside her own soul.
What were the chances that not only one Whiskey but two had been born with the ability to open the Gate? One brought back demons and one brought back souls.
Rachel would be less upset with Leah talking to the dead like her medium Aunt Leslie than Michael was about possibly losing souls to a human.
Blessed Mother. Paige hated those archangels.
Paige opened her mouth.
Alma interrupted her. “You and Leslie need to get out of here. Dexx and I can take care of the kids.”
“No.” Leah needed Paige. She wasn’t going to just leave her. Not now.
“Yes.”
“No,” Paige said. “I can take them with me. They’re my responsibility now.”
“No one’s questioning your ability to take responsibility, Pea.” Alma took Leah’s shoulders and tugged gently. “And taking Bobby beyond the protection of the wards isn’t a great idea right now.”
True. “Right.” But why was Alma breaking her and Leah up right then? They were bonding. Leah’d actually let Paige hug her.
“Who’s Bobby?” Leah asked quietly.
“A baby,” Alma said curtly. “Now, you two go. You need a car seat and whatever else he needs. Also, we need groceries. We’re out of bacon.”
Leslie’s eyes widened. “Heaven help us. The bacon.” She turned on her heel and headed for the hall. “I’ll just grab my purse.”
“But—” Paige released a puff of breath.
Alma closed her milk-white eyes, gripping Leah’s shoulders tightly. She opened them and gave Paige a level look. “She needs time to adjust.”
She needed her mother.
“Trust me. When you get back, she’ll be a different child.”
Paige didn’t like it, but Alma had raised three generations of Whiskeys. She walked to the front door and grabbed her boots. She didn’t need to grab a purse. She carried everything she needed in her wallet.
She needed to figure out the money situation. Her last paycheck was running a bit thin. Babies were expensive. The move to Portland was obviously canceled. Or postponed. She needed a job. She needed to get money to pay for Bobby.
And Leah?
She couldn’t hope for that. She couldn’t.
Leslie came back down the stairs with actual clothes on, her dark hair swept up and out of her face. She even had some make-up on, though just mascara and some lipstick. She was getting all dolled up for Target. Gee whiz.
Paige followed Leslie out the garage door. “Don’t need to broadcast to Rachel that you’re here just in case she’s got someone watching the house.”
“Right.” Paige slipped into the passenger seat of Leslie’s purple Acura. “Do you need me to scrunch down in my seat or anything?”
Leslie gave her a dry look and hit the button to open the garage door. “Don’t be a jerk.”
“You’re the one who said it.”
“Well, am I the only one thinking it? Rachel made a point of saying you weren’t here. She sent Leah in to grab your books, books only you can read. You don’t think she has someone watching the house? Angels, maybe?”
Paige hadn’t thought about that. Her mind had been a little too busy to make that leap of logic.
Leslie backed out of the double car garage and slid past Jackie. “Where is Dexx, anyway?”
“Don’t know.” Paige scanned the block, looking for cars or people that didn’t fit or belong.
None of the cars parked on the street gave off a “cop” vibe, and she didn’t see the silhouette of a human being sitting in any of the seats. If it was an angel, would they sit in a car, anyway? Would there be any way of seeing them unless they wanted to be seen?
Crap. No.
“Okay. I’m going to say it.” Leslie pulled onto the street. “What the fuck with Leah?”
There was a lot going on with that statement. “Which part?”
“You being worse than ISIS? Where the hell did that come from? And what the hell made her believe it was okay for her to say it?”
“At first, I thought it was Rachel.”
“I had a low opinion of the woman anyway, but then that happened. What a fucking cunt.”
“Wow. I never thought I’d ever hear you say that word. Out loud.”
“She earned it. She should wear it like a trophy around her fucking neck.”
Paige wasn’t used to having someone emulate the anger she felt. “Yeah, well, we got to remember that Leah’s a kid. She’s going to repeat what she hears. Especially if it’s from someone she
respects and loves.”
“Who would love that woman?”
“Someone who’s raised by her? Nick loves her.”
“Nick’s sick in the head.”
“How often have you talked to him?”
“Enough.”
“Where are we going?”
“Target.”
“What is it with you and Target?”
“Hey. Don’t judge. It’s the only place where I can get a coffee, a toy for my desk, fancy paper plates, and diapers while getting eggs at a fairly decent price.”
“I haven’t really gotten groceries there. They seem a little expensive.”
“Well, you can’t get all your groceries there. But eggs are good. So, yeah. Get your coffee and your eggs.”
“Fine.” Paige shook herself. “It feels weird leaving the house.”
“Pea, no one talks about the hell you’ve been through because no one can do anything about it. But you have two kids. You’re a mother, no matter what anyone says. You’re a mother. Your first instinct is to protect your kids, to keep them safe and cared for. And you, for whatever fucked-up reason, seem to think that you personally ruined your child’s life.”
Paige scratched her arm. “Well, I did summon a demon to kill my mother.”
“Let’s be real. You summoned Balnore because a part of you knew he wouldn’t.”
She’d tried telling herself that a few weeks ago, but even she didn’t believe that.
“You’re not evil, and I don’t care what that cunt says about you. You want to soak in as much kiddie time as you can while you can because there’s a part of you that’s terrified someone’s going to come and take them away from you. Again.”
Paige breathed through the pain, which was easier to deal with just hearing someone else say the truth of her emotions out loud. “It’s almost as if you know me.”
Leslie pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park.
Looking up, Paige frowned. They had stopped in front of a squat brick building with two storefronts. “This isn’t Target.”
“We’re making a stop before we go.”
Paige leaned forward, looking out the windshield. “Where are we?”
“A lawyer who said she’d take your case as soon as Leah came back into the state.”
“How did you know she would?”
A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) Page 13
