The Witchfinder Wars
Page 16
"Evie!" I screamed. "Where is she?"
My aunt rolled her head toward me as her eyes opened, dark and glassy. Her mouth moved, her voice so soft, so nearly silent, I had to read her lips to make sure I knew what she said.
"Gone."
Gone? Ivy? Had she made it out or had she died before I had the chance to get there?
Her lips moved again. "Annie...run. They're coming back. You promised."
The Witchfinders. I knew now who and what she meant when she ignored the pleas regarding my mother.
Ivy was gone. My mother had been taken, or even murdered, by those who had stolen my father away from me as well. I sat there stunned for a moment before my legs were able to support my weight and I stood.
I don't know how they did it.
I knew there were those who didn't understand us.
I knew there were those who would hurt us if given the chance.
The anger flowed through me in earnest now, stealing my breath before the smoke got its chance. I had been angry when Tommy hadn't shown up to meet me. But I'd halfway expected that, no matter what the Goddess told me. This was about so much more.
I turned back to the fire as I ignored Evie's pitiful pleas for me to leave. To run.
I walked back through the door and the flames welcomed me once more. I ignored the pain flowing through my wrist as I entered the center of the living room where the fire was the hottest.
Where it started.
It wasn't hurting me. The fire imprinted on my soul licked at me, but it didn't hurt me this time.
When I found the center, I closed my eyes and went by the instincts now dictating my actions. My focus turned to the flames to pull them toward me. The light flickered before it responded, circling around me like a whirlwind. I felt the heat stitch itself into my bones. The strength of it worked its way into the muscles of my arms, my legs. The necklace around my throat began to throb from the energies of it as I pulled it closer.
I wanted to become a part of it. For it to turn me into ashes to be blown away. To be destroyed by it.
I knew I was never going to be that lucky.
The fire, so close now, slammed into me with the full force of the flames. A groan, whether mine or the house's, escaped as the last of the beams fell behind me and the roof caved in on one side. I ignored it as the power flowed through my veins, making itself at home as if it belonged there. It flowed into me with such strength I fell to my knees, grabbing hold of my head.
I could feel it burning, igniting the anger that had led me here in the first place.
When I stood, I didn't know who I was. What I was. A snarl erupted from my mouth and a new explosion knocked the back wall out. Another escaped and the supports for the stairs collapsed. I raised my hands and pushed against the flames to watch as what I had known descended into ashes at my feet. The light, so hot it was almost white, was beautiful. Destructive. Powerful.
It felt good. Too good. Ivy would never know how much.
Evie.
The name brought me down as I stared out into the garden. She was right where I left her. Those green eyes staring into nothing.
My new found grace led me out to her side without a single stumble. I leaned down and kissed her black cheek, letting the tears fall as I reached to close her eyes.
There were sirens coming from somewhere. Too late to do any good. I couldn't let them find her.
Find the mark.
I'm so sorry, Aunt Evie. May you become a part of the earth you loved so much.
I thought the words but did not speak them. The emotions and the energies were slipping away from me, the pain coursing its way through my arm.
I dragged her, laying her body out in the middle of her gardens. Steady fingers untied the band around her wrist, and my lips brushed against the scar that had labeled her for what she was. I pulled back then and whispered my goodbyes.
With the touch of my hand, and the image that sprang up in my mind, she smoldered and then began to burn in earnest. The gardens erupted around me.
I ran.
***
The dry shed appeared out of nowhere; I came slinking out of the shadows long enough to find the door in the kudzu. I didn't need the key. If anyone found me here, they wouldn't live long enough to tell anyone about it. My injured hand cradled against my chest, I pressed a finger against the lock and watched as it melted.
I pushed the door open and stumbled into the room straight out of a Betty Crocker nightmare before I slammed the door behind me. I walked straight to the bathroom, and I bit back another scream as I thrust my shattered hand under the water tap.
Maybe I screamed after all. I don't remember.
The pain was excruciating. It flowed through me like the fire had when I stood in the center of the house. I fought to keep breathing until I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled away from the water and my knees went out from beneath me. I closed my eyes against the burning as that tired feeling returned.
No wonder. I'd just pulled down the house. I released myself to sleep.
***
The river was as beautiful as it had been when I left it the first time. But as She approached me, I was the one with the question. I could feel Her stop beside me as I stared into the waters and my anger disappeared in an instant. The Goddess watched the rushing with me for a moment before I found my voice. It sounded resigned. Tired.
"Why?"
She was silent for a moment before turning toward me.
It is what had been written, child. No one comes to this belief lightly. Did you?
She had me there. Playing with the tips of candles was nothing compared to what I had done. What I could do now. I couldn't look at her as my good hand reached up to cradle my bad one.
"I do believe. Everything Evie said was true. What you said was true."
The sobbing broke through then. Not even the peace of this place was enough to calm my heart. I thought it had been shattered before when I was worried about releasing Tommy. Now, it felt as if nothing remained. Those jagged pieces burned away in the fire, and with it, my family.
I was alone.
Truly alone.
Her arms wrapped around me then and I released it all to Her. The disappointment when Tommy ditched me, the fear I felt the moment the smoke began to appear above the trees, the sight of my aunt as she lay dying in the middle of a fire I didn't know I could control. Knowing I was too late to save my own mother from those she feared the most. The ones I had brought to her door.
I was shaking as She released me. Taking my wrist into Her hands, She brushed Her fingers over the burns that had twisted my hand, making it whole again. The Goddess moved down to my wrist and clasped Her palm over the tattered skin there. When She removed it, my arm was as it had been. Healed.
Except for a single symbol marking me as Her own.
You are mine as I am yours. This pain will pass, Annie. We'll be with you.
I stared at the symbol, then up to Her as the world pulled me away.
***
I don't know how long I stayed curled up on the bathroom floor. I remember vague shadows of talking to someone, muttering words and moans of pain as my mind wrapped itself around what I had become.
A Chosen One. A true witch.
Something special.
Time has its own way of passing when you can't see the sun, but when I finally regained the strength to sit upright, my movements were jerky. Like a newborn fawn stumbling away from its mother.
I looked around the room and I knew I needed to eat. I went into the kitchen where I grabbed the first can of food I could find. I opened it with a touch of my finger, pulling back the melted tin, and eating like a savage.
Not that I cared. This was good enough for now.
My stomach threatened to reject it; I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, drank it. Then another, when that one disappeared. This time, my stomach was calmer. My strength was returning so I continued my search.
A single
thud above my head broke through my thoughts and my eyes narrowed. I flexed my hands, stopping to stare at the one that should have sent the fiery spasms of pain through my arm.
I had been healed. The skin pink and new.
I recalled the Goddess, the river, the pain. My arm turned easily enough and the truth of it all was confirmed.
A small circle framed by two opposing crescents shone on the skin as if it had always been there.
A second thud and the crinkling of glass above my head turned my attention away from the scar and the anger flowed through me.
They had returned. Evie said they would.
I slipped out the side door and hid in the shadows as the two men who were searching the dry shed threw more of the jars to the ground. The smell of the herbs was overpowering. They worked in silence for a minute or so before the one closest to me spoke up.
"John, I'm heading around to the back just in case. If that witch is anywhere, we ain't gonna find her here."
"Yeah. I don't want to report back we didn't find her though. Go look. I'll be around in a minute."
I pressed my cheek against the kudzu as I resisted the urge to pounce. The energy was flowing too fast, too thick to withstand. It had to be released soon before I broke against its power. I didn't have to wait long.
The man moved with the stealth I'd only seen in movies as he turned the corner of the building. His eyes were searching for something, anything to denote another living creature nearby. I grabbed him.
The energy that had flowed through me before exploded. He only had time to cry out once. The fire took him down before he could make another sound. Reaching down, I pulled him toward me as I waited for the other.
The one called John had heard the short scream and acted out of instinct. Careless. When he saw me, he skidded to a halt. The fear on his face was palpable. I must have looked like a wild woman the moment I stepped out into the moonlight.
"Oh, John," I said. "John, how could you have been so stupid?"
The words came out in a purr as I launched forward, knocking him to the ground and grabbing hold of his throat. He was nothing more than ashes within seconds. The body of his friend joined his as the wind picked up and blew their dust beneath the layers of leaves surrounding me.
I was too new at this; tired too easily. I forced myself to listen for any other movement. When I was satisfied there was none, I returned to the security of the rooms. I peeled off my clothes and collapsed on the bed as the anger left me, and the horror of what I'd just done hit me full force.
I'd killed two people by the single touch of my hands. I buried my face into the pillow, trying to rationalize my actions. They would have killed me instead. Or taken me away. They were responsible for Evie's death. I clung to these excuses, but I knew better.
I knew that now, I was no better than the witchfinders. I'd murdered two people. Took them away from their families.
Goddess help me...
I let my thoughts return to Tommy with hopes to dispel the self-hatred washing over me; no matter how much it hurt to think of him. No matter what else had happened that night. He was there, still in the back of my mind as if the spell hadn't worked.
As if he were still bound to me.
Yet I knew this wasn't the case; it had been proven when he failed to show up at the pond. Perhaps goodbyes are easier that way. A clean break instead of a long drawn out tirade of spent emotions.
But I wanted him. No matter how bad I was for him.
I groaned against the pillow where my face was buried as I made a wish I had no right to make.
For Tommy to be mine. No matter what the cost.
It wasn't until my energy returned that I forced Tommy to the back of my mind so I could complete my search of the apartment.
First, a bath cleared my mind before I went to the armoire. The clothes in it matched the décor and I smiled at the thought of Evie and Ivy forgetting to restock this thing with anything new. It had been inconsequential to them. I grabbed a shirt and threw it on; it fell to my knees. After a few minutes of tugging and tucking, I managed to tie it up around my waist.
Pants were harder to find. They were all for men. I sighed as I pulled out the only thing that would fit me. It was a black cloth skirt that filled out to flutter around my knees.
I hated skirts. But it would have to do until I could get more clothes.
My other ones were shot.
The band I had saved from Evie, I tied around my wrist to hide the mark. An essential accessory if I was ever going to leave this place again.
My hair was hopeless. I let it hang loose until it dried. I'd figure out what to do with it then.
It seemed miniscule, but these daily rituals were making me pretend at least some things would never change. I clung to them as I went to the kitchen and cooked, sitting on the couch to eat.
Clean up was easy. I burned what wasn't needed in the sink. The kitchen I scrubbed down until it was as spotless as before.
Time and time again, my hand kept searching for the stone at my neck. This physical reminder was all I had left of my family aside from the leather band. I forced myself up and over to the safe to see what other treasures it would hold before I started crying again. I knew the sudden emotions would stop soon. But I couldn't stand being so unsteady.
Evie had left it unlocked the other day. Thanks be to the gods. I don't think even I could have gotten into it without her thoughtlessness.
The inside was stuffed with bills wrapped in small stacks. A small black book lay on top of them. I didn't care enough to explore any further. It was just good to know I had enough if I needed it.
He's here.
The Goddess spoke to me as I gasped. Turning quickly, I moved through the small space and out the door to rush across the field.
I wasn't alone after all.
Tommy had come back.
He's here.
Chapter Fourteen
Tommy
"Tommy? Tommy, honey?"
A soft hand stroked my forehead. I could smell something sharp and medicinal, alcohol or an antiseptic. I wondered who was sick.
"Tommy? Drink this."
Just like in a book or a movie, I thought in a daze. That's what they always say. Drink this.
I took a sip of something cold and choked. It was nasty, and it ran down my throat like a bitter river. I sat up and shook my head, then wished at once I'd left it still and down on the pillow. Something exploded behind my forehead and I fell back down. Someone groaned, and I'm pretty sure it was me.
"Well, I hope you're satisfied!" a voice snapped.
I hoped I wasn't expected to be satisfied because I without a doubt was not; far from it. My head hurt, my chest ached, and I could smell smoke.
Smoke.
Fire.
Anya!
I sat up again, ignoring the pain. But as confused as I was, hurting as I was, I wasn't dumb enough to say anything about Anya, not out loud.
Then I thought. What did it matter, anyway? I saw her run into a burning house. She was dead; she had to be dead.
And Clay—my uncle—had killed her, as surely as if he'd taken a knife to her throat.
But I was still alive and, as far as I knew, so was Anya's mother, Ivy. And I was going to make damn sure Ivy was okay.
Then Clay was going to pay, and so was his creepy son Kinsey, and so was everything and everyone else involved, however long it took me.
I looked around, blinking, trying to make things out through the fog that had settled over me.
Finally, I was able to tell where I was; in my own bed, in my own room, in our big Victorian on Clarke Street.
Grand sat beside my bed in my desk chair, our maid Sally standing beside her. Sally had a bottle in one hand and a glass with traces of some thick red stuff in the other. Grand had a shallow bowl in her lap; the cloth that hung over its side was dark with soot.
Grand did not look happy. In fact, I'd go so far as to say Grand was seriously and inc
ontrovertibly pissed to the max.
At the foot of my bed stood Clay. He held his usual cigar; he kept rolling it around and passing it from one hand to the other, but he hadn't dared light it in Grand's presence. For such a small woman, she sure can make her wishes known. And he looked awful damn uneasy too.
Just wait, I thought. Uneasy is what you'll be begging for soon.
"Tommy, honey, how do you feel?" Grand asked as she set the bowl on the bedside table. She took my hand and felt my wrist, made her little tch-tch sound I'd heard a million times, and then patted me on the arm. "Don't worry, dear. There's no sign of concussion, the doctor said. Just a bad knock on the head. You'll be a little sore for a few days, and he had to cut your hair to stitch up the cut, but it'll grow back." She stood up and turned on Clay.
And I do mean turned on him. She looked like an angry grey kitten spitting up at a big clumsy dog.
"Esmund Clayborne Hopkins," she said in that low soft tone that meant nothing but trouble. "What exactly do you mean, taking Tommy out on a raid?"
Wait a minute. Raid? What did Grand know about raids?
"His first one and you let him stumble into that mess and get hurt. Well, let me tell you this, Clay—"
And she proceeded to tell him this and that and quite a bit of the other, none of it pleasant, using words I didn't know Grand knew. And as she talked, her accent got more and more southern, sounding so like Anya's aunt that my heart tore open inside me and I fell back against my pillow. My head exploded and I groaned, I didn't know from pain or grief or both.
Grand finally ran down, after she'd backed Clay up against the opposite wall between the dresser and the door to my bathroom. He had flushed an angry red but he kept his mouth shut during her tirade. I was surprised he had so much self-control, to be honest.
"Now get out of my grandson's room, and don't show your face again until he asks to see it. Are we clear?"
"Crystal clear, Mother." Clay waited until she'd turned away before he dared to move. He stalked to the door and paused, his hand on the knob as he looked at me. "Tommy, I'll be away for a few days. I'll keep a check on you. Have someone get in touch with me if I can do anything, anything at all. All right?" He finished up with a weak little grin, then pulled the door to gently behind him.