49. Chapter Forty Eight

Chapter Forty Eight

Ronan

T he next morning, we all sleep in, and when I mean all, I mean Skyla and Liam. Vincent, Wesley, Asher and myself agreed that just to be safe, we’d take watches. As much as I want to believe that Skyla’s parents have nothing but the best intentions for her, I’m not willing to take that chance.

My eyes are burning from lack of sleep, but when I see that sleepy smile of hers, it makes it worth it to know she got a good night’s rest. The only reason Liam got out of it is because Sky practically fell asleep on top of him and none of us wanted to wake her.

Fucker.

I’m still trying to process everything that we learned yesterday. The fact that Henry is not Skyla’s dad….and knows about it is a wild concept. As is the fact that my brother has known the same. Though, it paints a clearer picture as to everything that occurred between them all and why Christopher went off the deep end for months after her ‘death.’ However sadistic and delusional he is and was, he clearly loved her, probably still does in his own way. And he had a hand in her planned murder.

There is fresh snow on the ground, we all bundle up, and we make our way over to Skyla’s parents’ house. Inside, we all freeze when we notice we are not alone. Jonathan and Giselle are here, as well as Rachel, but there are also three other women and one man sitting at the dining room table that has expanded to take up the entire living area. There are six empty spaces left, assumingly for us, and Skyla is the first to approach the table.

Conversation stops as they see us, and Giselle gets out of her seat, holding her close. Every hug they’ve shared since the shop has been like this, like two souls desperate to be near once again. I won’t pretend to understand the impossible situation Giselle was put into, but I will say if it had been my daughter…I’d have fought a hell of a lot harder. I’d have taken on the whole goddamn Brethren barehanded if that’s what it took. Skyla seems to have accepted it though, so I’ll let it go. For now, at least.

Her father is next, giving her an equally heartfelt hug before shaking our hands. It’s strange to be in a room full of witches, people we’ve been told are the worst kind to walk the earth. Even more strange is that there is no hostility. Well, I shouldn’t say that. One of the women is watching us with a guarded sneer, along with Rachel who watches only myself, Asher, and Vincent closely. Not sure what makes Liam and Wesley so fucking special that they get a free pass.

“Skyla, this is Astrid and her wife Sariah,” she says as she gestures towards the two women with smiles on their faces. Their arms are covered in tattoos, snaking up and across their chests. Astrid has both a septum piercing and a nose ring, while Sariah has gauges and long blonde hair that nearly touches the seat of her chair.

“It’s so good to finally meet you.” Astrid smiles.

Skyla nods with a smile of her own. “You too.”

“And this is Jillie and her partner Ezra,” Giselle introduces.

Jillie nods her head to Skyla but graces the rest of us with a disgusted look like she’s revolted to be in the same room as us. Ezra attempts to greet us, but the sincerity doesn’t make it to his eyes, and it puts us all on edge.

“Please, sit.” Giselle encourages, gesturing to the sprawling display of food at the table.

Skyla takes a seat beside her mom as Liam sits beside her. Asher takes the head of the table before Wesley, me and Vincent take our seats. Vincent takes the seat beside Jillie, which is apparently over the line for her. She huffs, shaking her head as she stands.

“I’m sorry, G. I can’t be here,” she says as she hurries out of the house, Ezra right behind her as he shuts the door behind them.

Awkward silence descends on us for several seconds before Giselle smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry. Jillie has a gift with energies and—”

“Yours is suffocating,” Rachel inserts. “Like I’ve said before,” she says to Vincent.

He gives her a deadpanned stare that she meets before grabbing what looks like a cinnamon roll and some bacon. Jonathan shoots her a look that she conveniently ignores before he shakes his head.

“Apologies for my sister as well, I’d like to say she’s normally better behaved, but—”

“I’m not,” she says simply. “Especially not around Puritans,” Rachel says with a wrinkle of her nose.

“Funny, we could say the same about witches,” Asher throws back.

“What do you even know about us anyways?” Rachel says, resting her elbows on the table. “You think we are a bunch of crackpots who dance around fires on full moons, brewing potions and sucking the lives out of people or something?” she mocks, shaking her head as she takes a bite of her food. “You know nothing.”

“I’d like to learn,” Skyla says, redirecting the conversation. “If that’s alright.”

Rachel softens to her like butter as she nods and smiles.

“Of course it is. What do you want to know?”

Giselle begins dishing up a plate, handing it to Skyla as she takes it gratefully. Wesley is the next to dish up, of course, followed by Liam. The rest of us wisely don’t bother trying the food, a fact Giselle notices with a purse of her lips but shrugs it off.

“We talked about the jars and crystals in the shop a little. Is that all you can do? I mean, you guys don’t have like…powers, do you? Is that offensive?” she asks, turning to her mom.

Giselle shakes her head softly as Jonathan speaks.

“Not at all, sweetheart. Everyone is different, some feel more drawn to one thing than another. Some are born with gifts, and others enjoy basking in the energy and positivity that can come from it all. Rachel was born with a gift of clairvoyance, like we explained last night. Occasionally, she will get visions, see things before they happen.”

“Very rarely,” Rachel intervenes.

“But it’s happened,” Jonathan defends. “It’s what saved my Giselle,” he says as he wraps his arm around his wife.

“Astrid here is gifted with tarot and palm readings.”

Astrid nods with a smile as Skyla faces her.

“Like pulling your future and stuff? That’s really cool.”

“I rely heavily upon my ancestors when doing readings, but it brings me a lot of joy,” Astrid says.

Jonathan nods as he faces Skyla again.

“Others like me or your mother were not born with a specific gift or proclivity towards anything, but we positively believe in the power of intention, manifestation and karma.”

Liam frowns. “That doesn’t sound like the witchcraft we’ve been taught.”

“That’s because you all have been taught by murderous neanderthals with their heads in the sand,” Sariah says as Astrid shoves her shoulder softly.

“I’m going to guess you had family in the trials?” I ask

“My family’s surname is Corey,” Sariah says.

“And mine is Good,” Astrid adds.

My eyebrows raise at that. Sarah Good is mentioned several times in Thomas Putnam’s journal, even before the trials began. Her family was extremely impoverished and known mostly as beggars. He always seemed to have sympathy for her, though. Or at least that’s how he wrote about her. Which is strange, seeing as he didn’t have a sympathetic bone in his body when he had a hand in leading the largest witch hunt this country has ever seen.

“It’s not just about gifts or no gifts either,” Giselle says. “That’s what I believed when I first met Jonathan and Rachel. As children, we were taught that witches have a great evil in them and will turn it against anyone and everyone. That’s just not the case.”

“No,” Rachel agrees. “There are many kinds of witches that practice many kinds of practices. You can put it simplistically like light witches and dark witches. Our Coven all prefers to practice in the light, though. Myself, for example, I’m a moon witch. I’m very guided by the moon and its phases link with mine. Even my body’s natural cycle syncs with the full moon, every month, without fail.”

“Jillie, who left, is a nature witch, meaning she feels very closely connected to nature and all of its elements and energies,” Sariah adds.

“And I identify as an eclectic witch,” Astrid says. “I don’t feel a draw to one certain thing. I enjoy practicing with all different elements, energies and practices. Though I prefer tarot, whereas my wife is a crystal whore,” she teases.

Sariah’s eyes widen comically. “They are incredible, there is literally a crystal for anything you could ever need!”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we need two of each in our house, babe,” Astrid laughs.

Shaking her head, Sariah mumbles under her breath.

“Agree to disagree.”

Something plucks at my mind, a memory from a time that seems like forever ago when it was really just a few months back.

“Is that why Asher and Skyla’s ceremony was rushed?” I ask.

Everyone gives me a quizzical look as I explain.

“My brother mentioned to me that there were rumors the witches were going to try something. That we needed to link Asher and Skyla on the thirty first of October because it is a sacred day for you all.”

“It’s not,” Rachel corrects. “That’s dark witches, so, disrespectfully, your brother doesn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.”

“Rach,” Jonathan chastises, and she lifts her hands in surrender as she busies herself with her plate once more.

“It was a full moon the following day, though. I think I remember that because everyone was fucking feral at the university,” I scoff, shaking my head. “Did you all have something planned? Or was that his own paranoia?”

They all share uneasy looks as Rachel speaks.

“We had heard of Skyla’s return to Salem. We heard she was engaged to a Putnam,” Rachel sneers with a shake of her head. “We’d…discussed the idea of a rescue mission of sorts.”

“And you were going to harness the full moon to do so?” Vincent guesses.

She nods. “Very good. We have a few other moon witches in our coven, and together, we were going to utilize it to create a protection spell, similar to the one we did for Giselle. You can’t go into the lion’s den without being properly guarded.”

“What stopped you?” Asher asks. “Us being married…or married under the Brethren’s standard,” he says, causing Giselle to grimace, no doubt remembering her own ceremony. “Why did that keep you away?”

“It wasn’t so much keeping us away as it was letting us know that we had a traitor among us. Someone leaked our plan to Christopher in exchange for asylum. She was young and scared, and unfortunately, we are told that she was taken captive,” Giselle says.

Liam pales at her words and Asher and I share a look with him.

“What did she look like?” he rasps.

All eyes move to him, frowning as Astrid speaks.

“Long curly black hair, very petite. Soft eyes and—”

“Excuse me,” Liam says, standing to his feet and stepping out the door.

Everyone stares after him in concern and I feel I have no choice but to give a brief explanation.

“We’ve seen her. She unfortunately did not survive.”

Astrid’s face falls as she nods. “We assumed not. She had so much potential, but she allowed fear to rule her.”

A heavy silence falls over the room for several seconds before the door opens again, Liam stepping through, his face looking pale and clammy. Skyla gives him a concerned look, squeezing his hand as he tries to muster up a smile.

“I don’t understand. Why was Christopher so hell bent on me as Asher’s wife? Especially if he knew that I wasn’t Henry’s daughter,” Skyla says.

A good point.

“You were Henry’s daughter, though,” Giselle says, causing a thunderous look to pass over Jonathan’s face. “At least in the public eye. Don’t forget, image is everything for those people. To them, you were not only his bond brother’s daughter, but a miracle. You were the first daughter to be born of an elder since the trials ended.”

“Why is that?” Wesley chimes in.

The witches share an uneasy look before they speak.

“We can’t know for sure,” Sariah says. “All we have to go off is the stories told to us from our ancestors, much like you all. One story in particular was that shortly after the Brethren was formed, the surviving families gathered, terrified for their safety and the future of those left behind in Salem. They wanted to prevent history from repeating itself.”

I nod as Astrid continues.

“They couldn’t focus on every single family of the townsfolk in Salem. That kind of magic would have required a Coven much larger than what they had. And at this point, they weren’t even an official Coven. Just a group of people that had all survived the same horrors. A few of them weren’t even witches, just unfortunate souls that got caught in the crossfire.”

“To prevent history from repeating itself,” Rachel says. “They needed to stop the birth of daughters, as much as they could, since men inherently believed women were more prone to witchcraft,” she says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“And so, they selected the families that were to be affected. Nine of them,” Giselle says.

“The Elder families,” I say.

“Exactly,” she nods, looking at Skyla. “You were able to be born because you are not of Parris descent. You are half Thompson, half Proctor.”

“So, witches can cast spells,” Asher says. “I mean, that’s what they did, right? Cast some kind of infertility spell on the Elder families and their bloodlines?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Sariah says with a shake of her head. “This was hundreds of thousands of years ago. It’s very possible there could be a misinterpretation in our stories.”

“Or not,” Rachel adds on.

“Or not,” Sariah agrees with a nod of her head.

We all mull over this information for a few moments before Skyla turns to Astrid.

“Would you be able to do a tarot reading for me? If it’s not too much trouble.”

She smiles. “Sure. Let me go grab my cards,” she says as she stands up, slipping out the door.

We all begin cleaning up breakfast when Astrid comes back in, sitting across the table from Skyla.

“Okay, I will pull six cards for you. Three cards on the top row and three cards on the bottom row. The bottom row will clarify the top row,” Astrid says to Skyla as she lines up her cards on the table.

Wesley, Asher, and Vincent watch on curiously as Liam and I help clean up. I can’t help but pause in my work for a moment as I watch.

Astrid flips over the first card on the top row and the first on the bottom. Her face flinches slightly but she masks it quickly as she looks at Skyla.

“The 5 of wands and the 3 of swords. Violence is in the air. A deathly battle that leads to suffering and heartbreak.”

I look to Liam who gives me a look of concern before looking back to the table. Astrid flips the second top card and then the second bottom.

“The 9 of swords and the 7 of swords. You will be in a constant state of paranoia and anxiety. You will not know who to trust, and you will not know what to believe.”

Fear flashes in Skyla’s eyes, but she tries to smile and shrug her shoulders.

“Welcome to my life,” she laughs bitterly.

A few sympathetic chuckles sound from around the room, and I can see, based on the looks being exchanged, that this reading is not going well. Though I don’t know how much I buy all this…stuff, it’s concerning, nonetheless.

Astrid flips over the remaining cards, inhaling deeply before making eye contact with Sky.

“Last, you have the tower card. I see destruction and ruin in your future. Your foundation will crack and fall apart. Paired with the ten of swords, I see painful final endings in your future.”

“What do you mean by final endings?” Skyla whispers softly, her brows knitted together.

Astrid holds up the deck and flips it over to show the card at the back of the deck. The card is simple, one word and one image.

Death.

A heaviness settles in the room as Giselle’s breath uptakes and she grips Jonathan’s hand tightly. He wraps his arm around her with assurance, but nothing about his expression looks assured.

“So, I’m gonna die?” Skyla asks hollowly.

“No!” Giselle rushes. “Astrid’s readings, all readings…they are subjective. The future is always changing. This is just—”

“Her future as of now,” Vincent says bitterly.

No one responds as Astrid quietly begins gathering up her cards.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Skyla gives her a weak smile and shrugs her shoulder.

“Maybe the future will change. Or maybe it’s not my death that will be coming.”

Astrid gives her a smile and a nod that is in no way convincing.

“Maybe.”

Jonathan moves to the living room to talk with Astrid, quietly, and I take the opportunity to speak to Giselle.

“Did you ever have feelings for my brother?” I ask, mostly out of curiosity.

She looks at me for a second, before shaking her head.

“Never. There was a time where I thought he might have been a better choice than Henry, a time where he adored me. I was quickly shown what a blessing it was that I was given to the other bond brother.”

I nod.

“Have you ever had love in your heart for him?” she asks.

I open my mouth to ask her what she means when she gives me a look.

“Don’t pretend to act like you’re a faithful servant to the Brethren. We’d all be hanging by our necks by now if you were.”

Fair point.

“I want him gone,” I admit. “He’s caused more hurt than one person should be allowed. The pain he has caused Skyla…the things he allowed to happen to her,” I say with my eyes closed tightly. “They are unforgivable.”

Giselle frowns. “Like what?”

“Has Skyla mentioned Corwin?”

“Nicholas Corwin?” she asks with her nose scrunched.

I nod. Giselle shakes her head, and I lower my voice from prying ears, i.e. Rachel, who is cocking her head just so as she not so subtly eavesdrops.

“He stalked Skyla for months. Slowly lost his mind. Her resemblance to you was so similar for him that he began to confuse the two. It started off innocent enough at first, adoring notes and gifts. He soon turned violent, almost killed Liam,” I say as I gesture my head to him as he washes the dishes. “And then he took her.”

“He took her?” she asks. “What do you mean?”

“He snuck into her house, spiked her favorite drink and took her in the middle of the night. Drove her up to a warehouse he’d converted into a house in Vermont. Dressed her in your clothes and…”

Her hand covers her mouth as she shakes her head. I don’t feel like it’s my place to discuss the details of what happened, so I don’t continue.

“Where is he now?” she asks, a hardened edge to her voice.

“Dead,” Vincent says as he steps into the kitchen with the remaining dish. “I made sure of it.”

For the first time, the kind, soft woman I’ve come to know vanishes, a lethal anger to her as she tightens her jaw and nods stiffly.

“Good. What does this have to do with Christopher, though?”

I shake my head as I look up at her. “He knew. The whole time. He knew from the beginning and he didn’t do a goddamn thing. We almost lost her. We almost—”

I stop myself, letting out a rough breath as fresh anger runs through my veins.

“I want him gone, and I think I have a plan.”

Giselle cocks her head to the side in intrigue.

“I’m all ears.”