“You know, I don’t remember everything that happened over the years. None of it, really. The last thing I remember is fighting with your father and then waking up with you all grown, and Horace’s house on fire.”
I nod and reach out for her shaking hand. “It’s okay, Mama.”
“No. No, I don’t s’pose it is. But I don’t know what might’ve happened. They say here that it could be amnesia.”
I share a glance with my sisters. We know it’s not amnesia. Or dementia.
“Do you think that’s what it was?” Brielle asks.
Mama shakes her head. “No. I think it was something much angrier than that.”
“I think you’re right,” I say softly. “But you’re free of it now. And I have to say that I’m sorry we didn’t realize what was happening to you, Mama. If we’d known, we would have tried to free you from that house and the evil that had its hold on you much, much sooner.”
“You didn’t know,” she says. “Even I didn’t know. I’ve asked if I can go back to the house sometime, just so I can gather a few things. I think there are some photographs, and my mother’s grimoire should be up in my bedroom.”
I freeze. “What did you say?”
“My mother’s grimoire,” she repeats. “You know, that big book of hers? I’d like to fetch it and do some studying.”
“Mama, you said it was evil. Grandma gave it to me, and you took it away. You beat us if we even suggested we might have paranormal abilities.”
Mom’s face goes white, and then tears fill her eyes. “I did that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brielle says. “It’s why I filed for custody of Millie and Daphne when I was eighteen, and we moved out. Because we needed help. We had questions, and you wouldn’t permit it.”
Mama shakes her head and covers her mouth with her hand as if she can’t believe what we’re telling her.
“I come from a long line of witches,” she elaborates at last. “And so do you, of course. Oh, girls, there’s so much I wanted to teach you, but I was waiting for you to be a little older. And then, when you were older, well…”
I blink rapidly, stunned. “You’re telling me that you’re a witch? That I could have learned from you all along?”
“That’s right, darlin’.”
I stand and pace away, so damn angry I could send a tornado through the room.
If innocent patients weren’t sitting there, I would.
All that time, all that anguish. My own mother could have helped us. Instead, she was taken over by something so vicious, so evil that my sisters and I suffered for years.
“Come back,” Brielle urges. She’s standing next to me, her hand in mine. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”
“You have got to be kidding me, B.”
“I know. I don’t understand either.”
I walk back to the table and sit across from Mama.
“I wish I had Miss Sophia’s number,” Mama says. “I know that she could help me explain everything to you.”
“I have her number,” I reply, a lump forming in my belly. “And trust me when I say, she’s going to help you explain. I need answers.”Chapter SevenLucien“Just because you’re my older cousin, doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me,” Dahlia says. She’s sitting across from me in her flower shop. We just left Millie and the others, and I followed Dahlia in here.
I wanted more than anything to stay with Millicent. To make sure she’s okay.
But I’m not her husband, and she has a business to run and a family to see to.
“I’m not the boss of you because I’m your cousin,” I reply. “It’s because you’re a novitiate. My apprentice, Dahlia. You have to practice the spells and do the reading I’ve given you if you’re going to grow in your knowledge and eventually become a permanent member of our coven. You already know this.”
Dahlia’s father and my father share great-grandparents. So, we aren’t close cousins, but we do come from the same bloodline. Dahlia’s family veered toward the darker magics, and Dahlia was raised as such.
About a year ago, she approached me and told me that the dark coven wasn’t her home and hoped I’d take her on as an apprentice, to teach and guide her so she could be initiated into our coven.
She’s been a fantastic and dutiful student.
Until today.
She’s frowning at me, strumming her fingers on the counter. “You’re quite the demanding teacher, Lucien.”
“I warned you of that when we started. If it’s become too much for you, say the word, and I’ll use my time elsewhere.”
She looks down, clenches her eyes shut, and then shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to lash out at you. I haven’t been sleeping great, and I’m just irritable. Then, seeing that awful hand on Millie’s bench just threw me for a loop.”