Sophie watched the Shadow witch, her dislike growing with every word.
“Don’t give me that look,” Esme muttered. “As if there’s not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.”
“Let’s just continue, hm?” Calder said, and Esme gave him a small nod.
“And then, she was back. Belly swollen with some other man’s child. The day Luc first saw her again, he was in a rage all day. He stayed away from home, and I think the curse was bad then. He was careful, early on, trying to protect my sister from what he was.” She took another drink. “But she was back. And there they were, both of them in the same place again. Marshall came back to town shortly after. He tried, twice, to kill Migisi. Pregnancy made her weak. Tired. Slow. He wasn’t above taking advantage of that. Both times, Luc stopped him. Attacked him,” she clarified. “I saw the second time. It was vicious. Dumbass Migisi didn’t even know it was happening. And I knew then, that he’d decided to kill Luc, to get him out of the way. So I sought him out, and I made him a bargain.”
“What was it?” Calder asked.
“My life for Luc’s,” she said simply. “He’d tried to compel me to be in his coven, but I was too strong. But I was valuable. In Luc’s household. Already an enemy of Migisi. So I promised to serve him, to heed his commands, as long as he spared Luc. And he agreed.”
She took another long drink. “Do you know what it feels like to be under another witch or warlock’s command?”
“Yes,” Sophie said, and Esme looked at her sharply. “He had me under his. I went to him for help getting rid of the curse. He had control over me. When he wanted me to show up to a place, I did. When he said kneel, I knelt. There was always the threat, that he’d make me do more, but he never did.”
“Of course not. You remind him too much of his precious Micaela,” Esme said. “No, you, he wants for himself. Or, at least he did. He might not want you as much since you unmanned him at the funeral.” She paused. Opened her mouth, closed it again. “Luc deserved better. In the end, she was what killed him. Not Marshall.”
“So you don’t know what happened at the end?” Sophie asked.
Esme shook her head. “Luc sent my sister and their son home to my father. We knew even before that that they were together. My sister was relieved to be rid of him.”
“You stayed?” Sophie asked. “After your sister and nephew were gone?”
“I stayed,” Esme said. “I kept expecting Marshall to break his word to me. And I wanted to be here, because it’s where Luc was. Pathetic, huh? To choose a man who wasn’t even mine over my own family.” She let out a bitter little laugh. “So I stayed. Years passed. Migisi sent her daughter away as well, and it was just the two of them. I saw Luc sometimes, always as his bear. Always. Migisi seemed to have turned into some kind of hermit. There was an attack. Luc lost control, and Migisi fought him to protect whoever it was he was going after. A few days later reports started coming in. They’d killed one another, according to three people who swore they saw it happen outside of town. They leapt from the cliffs and into the river, according to a few others. They walked, hand in hand, into Lake Superior and were never seen again, according to others who swore they watched it happen. The thing was, the reports all claimed it had happened on the same day, and eventually, anyone who knew Luc and Migisi was forced to accept that one way or the other, they were gone.”
“Do you know what day that was?” Calder asked. Sophie nodded. It was the same question she was about to ask.
“November 22, 1889. It was a Friday,” Esme said, looking down at her glass of vodka again. “It snowed all day, big, feathery flakes.”
Sophie glanced at Calder. It was the same date that had been on the grave markers in the old Copper Falls cemetery. And it explained why there were such varying reports about their death: so many witnesses seeing varying things. It just depended on who the newspaper had decided to interview.
“How do you suppose that happened? That it looked like they died so many different ways?” Sophie asked.
“My guess was that those were all the ways they had considered ending it. One of them likely was how they actually died. Magic is a strange beast. The only theory I have was that those were echoes of plans they may have made, and when they actually died, whoever was near one of the places they’d considered as an endpoint saw it happen. I’ve heard of that happening before, with Shadow witches. That’s how we get ghosts. All they are are the manifestations of what remains of a Shadow witch’s power. That, or she messed with peoples' minds, which is fucking vile, but then again, so was she.”
“I had no idea,” Sophie said.
Esme shrugged. “There are lots of things you don’t know.”
“Thanks.”
Sophie and Calder exchanged a glance, and when she looked back at Esme, it was to see her watching Calder with that same hungry, almost desperate look in her eyes. Calder looked back at Esme, and she quickly glanced away.
“It’s insane. You look exactly goddamn like him. You sound like him. Built like him. Christ, you even smell like him,” Esme muttered. “And here you are, with her,” she added, shaking her head with a small, bitter laugh. “Here we go, all over again.” She gave Sophie a look of pure venom. “I won’t stand by and let you destroy him this time.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Sophie said, standing up and walking to the windows. They looked over the forest behind Esme’s house. Well, what remained of it, anyway. Scrubby, stunted, twisted. “Don’t start that crap. I’ve heard it enough already.”
“What?” Esme said.
Sophie rolled her eyes and turned to Esme. “The witches who raised Claire?”
“Yeah. What about them?”
“I talked to them. Trying to find out more about… everything. The coven, Migisi, Luc, everything. They think…” she shot a glance at Calder. She hadn’t told him this part.
“They think what?” Calder asked, holding her gaze.
“They think we’re Migisi and Luc reborn. I guess, at the end, Migisi used to go off about coming back.”
The room settled into an uncomfortable silence.
Sophie kept her eyes on Calder. After a few moments, he blew out a breath. “I’m not him.”
“I’m not her, either.”
Esme laughed. “You two could be their fucking clones. And Migisi did rant and rave at the end about coming back. About making it right.”
“You saw her journals. I showed you. She talked about a daughter of her daughter or whatever that was, who would break the spell. Not her. A descendant.”
“Migisi was nuttier than a fruitcake. She could have written that, but also decided to come back.” Esme looked at Sophie appraisingly. Then she glanced at Calder. “I don’t know you well enough either way. But I’d like to,” she said to him, and he glanced away. Sophie glared at Esme, who just gave her a cold little smile. “But I knew Migisi, and I have a pretty good sense of you. You’re sweet. Naive to a fault. You want to save the world. Migisi never gave a shit about any of that. Migisi cared for three things: herself, Luc, and, later, her daughter.”
“So we can stop this ‘Migisi reborn’ crap, then?” Sophie said.
“But it so clearly pisses you off,” Esme said. “I don’t care who you are. Migisi, not Migisi. Doesn’t matter. Honestly, I don’t care about you at all.”
“You really have a way with people,” Sophie said.
“It’s a gift. The only reason I don’t destroy you where you stand is because of him. And I hate that even the fucking memory of him has that kind of power over me, but, like I said: pathetic. You can protect him from Marshall. You’re strong enough to do it.”
Sophie nodded.
“I don’t need to be—” Calder began, and Esme shushed him.
“No macho bullshit. She’s stronger than you, sweetcheeks.”
“I kind of hoped it was you who did it,” Sophie said to Esme.
“I’m sure. But I wouldn’t have done that. I’d take a run at you witho
ut a doubt, if he wasn’t in the picture. But he is, and I won’t watch him be destroyed the way I was forced to watch Luc be destroyed.”
Sophie sat back and rubbed her temples. “Did Marshall try anything against them later on? After the curse and all that? Or did he just let things play out?”
Esme didn’t answer, and Sophie looked up to see her toying with her vodka glass, which was empty again.
“How did you get out from under his control?” Esme asked.
Sophie thought about it. “I’m not sure. I think it happened around when I broke Calder’s curse. Everything felt different. I didn’t realize it until just now that that’s probably why. There’s no way he would have just let me take his power like that otherwise.”
Esme nodded. “I wondered. The curse was a powerful thing. And your curse was tied to his, and Marshall’s power over you was tied to the curses.” She blew out a breath. “If you’d disobeyed him, if he’d still had power over you at that moment, he would have made you pay for it, no matter who you are or who you look like.”
“You know this from experience?” Calder asked, and this time, Esme kept her gaze down.
“He got impatient at the end. They spent years together after their families went away. He was so angry at the time. He wanted Migisi to pay. He’d lost track of Claire. Those witches were smart about that, at least. They got her out of here as soon as they could. He couldn’t have Migisi, and he had to track Claire down. So he wanted Migisi dead. Of course, there was no way he could do it himself. He wanted her dead, but he didn’t want to kill her himself. Coward. So after years of silence from him, he came to me. And he told me I had to kill Migisi.”
Sophie stared at Esme. “What happened?”
Esme smirked. “I’m not stupid. It was a suicide mission. Migisi would have killed me, and that would have allowed Marshall to go after Luc, which would have broken Migisi. And if I had killed Migisi, Luc would have killed me. And then Marshall would have killed him. Either way, Luc and I were both dead.”
“So you refused,” Calder said, and Esme nodded.
“What happened then?” Sophie asked.
Esme stood up. “That’s enough sharing for today, children. Long story short: I can’t stand the sight of you, but Marshall needs to be stopped and you can actually do it. So I’ll help. You’re in no danger from me. Keep him safe,” she added, nodding toward Calder.
“I will.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. He’s around, without a doubt. And you need to learn to use your power better. He’s old and experienced. Even weakened, he might prove more difficult than you would expect.”
Sophie nodded, and Esme looked at Calder again before sitting back down.
“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. If big, blond, and bearish wants to stay and keep me company, though, he’s welcome.”
Calder smiled. “Maybe some other time.”
“Luc used to tell me the same thing. Some other time never seemed to come, though.” She poured another glass. “Leave.”
In the next instant, they found themselves standing on the front porch, and the door was slamming shut in their faces.
“How the hell did she do that?” Calder asked, and Sophie shook her head. It took everything in her not to run to Calder’s truck, but she tried to look like she wasn’t completely terrified of the older Shadow witch. When they got in, Calder turned to look at her.
“I don’t trust her,” he said.
“Same. But we need her. At least for now.”
“Do you really think she’ll teach you?”
Sophie sighed. “You’re safer if I’m as strong as possible. So, yes.”
“I kind of hate this.”
“I hate it even more. We’ll be careful. Hopefully, this will all come to an end soon.”
“Better phrasing there, kitten,” Calder said as he put the truck in reverse and backed out of Esme’s driveway. “We want Marshall to come to an end. Nothing else.”
Sophie nodded. “True.”
“There’s time to just lie in bed hiding under the covers together for a while, right?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
“Good. That place is creepy as hell and I’m man enough to admit that she scares the shit out of me.”
On the drive back to Sophie’s house, Calder kept her hand in his as he drove, and Sophie let her mind wander. Esme was only helping her because of Calder. That pure, undisguised need in her eyes made Sophie want to claw the other witch’s eyes out. And she wasn’t stupid enough to think that Esme was done trying to make a play for Calder. Of course he wasn’t interested. Esme didn’t really care about that one way or the other. Sophie had thought the witch was probably a little mad due to isolation and the effect of having lived with Shadow for so long. And there was that, for sure. But more than that was the fact that Esme had lived with this unfulfilled desire for Luc for so long. And, undoubtedly, the loss and guilt of losing him the way she had, however that had happened. And now she had Luc’s descendant in her sights, a man who, according to her, looked, sounded, and smelled just like Luc.
Sophie turned and looked at Calder. Her stomach fluttered at just the sight of him, just the way it had since the first time she’d laid eyes on him.
She frowned. They’d been connected since the instant they’d met when she was in fifth grade. He’d protected her against school bullies, and she’d found herself drawn to him, despite not really knowing much about him other than that he was a troublemaker. Calder glanced over at her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why did you start talking to me when we were kids?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Because you were cute.”
“There were lots of cute girls. You spent time with me, though, when we really had nothing in common.”
“You were cute and sweet and I felt like less of a loser when you looked at me,” he said, glancing over at her again. “Why?”
Sophie shook her head. “Nothing. Esme has me all tense,” she said.
He squeezed her hand. “We’ll go home and eat and hide in bed for a while. We’ll get through this. We get through everything, eventually.”
Sophie nodded and looked out the window.
Migisi had been drawn to Luc.
She'd been drawn to Calder. And here they were, living through their ancestors' mess.
Funny how that worked out.
Chapter Nine
July 31, 1877
Luc stood near the wagon, double-checking the team’s harness. The belongings of his wife and child filled the back of the wagon. He watched as they both bid Esme farewell. Esme, who was staying. She’d obtained a small house in the forest a few miles away. Luc did not know why she bothered staying. Her family was all leaving, and he was certainly not her family. Migisi thought the Shadow witch wanted him. If that was the case, Esme would be sorely disappointed.
No, he would not be sowing any wild oats now that his wife was leaving. He would be missing his son. He would be battling his curse. He would be, strange as it seemed, mending his relationship with Migisi as best he could. And he would be figuring out how to die while he was still capable of reason and planning.
Once they’d said their farewells to Esme, Luc helped his wife onto the seat of the carriage, then lifted his son up.
“Papa, I don’t want to go,” Bernard said. “Can I stay?”
Luc rumpled his son’s hair and forced a little smile while he fought back the lump in his throat. “And miss meeting your cousins and grandparents? You’re off for a grand adventure.”
“Can you come with us?” They’d gone over the plan, that they would meet Louisa’s father partway. Bernard already knew that.
“You know I cannot.”
“Because you’re sick?” Bernard asked in a small voice. Luc glanced up at Louisa, who met his eyes and quickly looked away. Her relief when he’d told her it was time for her and their son to leave had been obvious. This was certainly not the l
ife she’d envisioned for herself.
“Because I am sick,” Luc agreed. “I would be no fun, and you deserve to have fun.”
Luc hoisted himself up into the seat and took the reins. He clucked his tongue, and the team started moving, harnesses jingling. Louisa and Bernard waved to Esme as they drove down the road. It would be several hours before they reached Louisa’s father, assuming Luc did not have to stop too often to run as his bear, or, God forbid, if he lost himself. If that happened, Louisa would drive the rest of the way. Esme had been teaching her how to do that, when it had become clear that Luc would be unable to care for them eventually. And he knew why Esme had taught her: in case they’d had to flee from him.
That knowledge filled him with shame. His own family lived in fear of him. Not his son, so much, who was mostly shielded from the worst of it. But Louisa had put up with far too much insanity.
Luc glanced across the seat toward his wife. His wife, but not his mate. Only one woman held that role in his life, and he had been a fool to believe that he should have anything else. He’d been so angry, so determined to put all witch nonsense behind him, that he’d gone searching for a wife shortly after Migisi had cursed him. He’d been determined to build his own life. He knew Louisa’s father, and a match had been made easily.
Louisa had never wanted to marry him.
“Thank you for everything,” Luc said, and he saw Louisa give him a sharp look.
“What?” she asked.
“Thank you. I know this was not the life you envisioned. Thank you for our son. Thank you for the honor of having been your husband. You deserve so much more.”
Louisa ran her fingers through Bernard’s hair. The boy had rested his head in his mother’s lap and fallen asleep after a while.
“Are you having an affair with my sister?” Louisa asked quietly.
Light's Shadow (Copper Falls Book 3) Page 10
