Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

E DGE

I watched as Immy clung to the grimoire, her fingers white-knuckled around its edges. She barely let go of it as she quickly dressed, fussing as the dry clothes stuck to her wet skin. Her eyes kept darting nervously between the ancient book and the door Bellona would appear through any second.

"Should we hide it?" I asked, concerned about Bellona's intent.

Immy shook her head, straightening out her clothes before picking up the grimoire and hugging it to her chest again. "It would be pointless," she admitted. "Mother felt it."

"Of course she did," I muttered. Figured that woman would have a sixth sense for powerful magick.

Immy paced the room, her thoughts racing as her gaze darted around. "I think the power that flung me out of the deep sea may have announced the grimoire's arrival to any witches within the vicinity," she said, biting her lip. "That's why she showed up. She never visits this often."

"Damn," I cursed under my breath. The last thing we needed was Bellona getting her hands on the grimoire. It had taken me an eternity to find it, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers now.

"Edge," Immy said softly, her voice trembling. "What are we going to do? I can't keep it from her. You know how she is."

I glanced at the worry etched across Immy's face, thinking of all the times Bellona had belittled and dismissed her daughter. "We'll figure something out," I assured her, my hand hovering over hers as if I could offer comfort. "I won't let her take it without a fight."

Immy looked at me with a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Edge. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Likewise," I replied, my heart swelling with affection for the woman who had given me the hope of a second chance at life. We would face Bellona together, and whatever came our way, we'd handle it side by side.

The door burst open with a blast of cold air, and Bellona strode into the room like a hurricane, her eyes immediately locking onto the grimoire in Immy's arms. I felt a surge of protectiveness rise within me, and I moved to stand between them, even though my ghostly form couldn't physically block Bellona.

"Imelda," Bellona snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "How did you come to possess that grimoire?"

"Mother, I retrieved it with magic," Immy replied, her voice shaky but determined.

"Magic?" Bellona scoffed, eyeing her daughter with disbelief. "You? Don't make me laugh, girl."

"Believe what you want." Immy clutched the grimoire tighter to her chest. "But it's true. And this grimoire belongs to Edge."

"That apparition?" Bellona raised an eyebrow. "A ghost can't own a witch's grimoire, dear."

"Then maybe he's not just any ghost," I muttered under my breath, already tired of Bellona's dismissive attitude.

"Excuse me?" Bellona demanded, her icy gaze shifting to me.

"Edge has been searching for this grimoire his entire life and afterlife," Immy interjected, her voice stronger now. "It's meant for him."

Bellona let out a derisive laugh. "Well, isn't that a sweet sentiment. But that doesn't change the fact that he's a ghost, Imelda. And ghosts have no claim on a grimoire like this."

"Want to bet?" I snarled, my patience thin. "I've sacrificed everything to find this grimoire. It's mine!"

"Yours? We'll see about that. That grimoire belongs in the hands of a real witch, a powerful witch who knows how to use it properly." Bellona sneered, her eyes narrowing in contempt. She raised a hand, her fingers dancing through the air as she began chanting an incantation.

"Mother, stop!" Immy cried out, her worry evident on her face. Her arm stretched out, wrapping around my middle section. When she tried to move me back, I relaxed enough to let my ghostly form slide through the air. Honestly, I was just happy to feel her touch instead of it going through me.

Then I remembered what Bellona was doing. Casting some kind of a spell to get rid of me. I felt a sudden surge of fear; would her spell actually work? Could she make me disappear forever?

But nothing happened. I remained standing between them, fully intact… If one could call a ghost 'intact.' Bellona's annoyance was palpable as she glared at me, her spell having failed.

"Fine," Immy said firmly, her voice wavering just slightly. "The grimoire may have called to Edge, but it claimed me. That makes it mine, and no other witch has any right to touch it."

Part of me wondered if that was true or if Immy was bluffing to get her mother to back off.

"Is that so?" Bellona replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She studied Immy for a moment, her eyes flicking back and forth between her daughter and the ancient grimoire clutched tightly in her arms.

"Very well," she conceded. Her scowl turned a trifle speculative before a wide grin crossed her face. The tension in the room shifted like a sudden gust of sea wind, and Bellona's scowl transformed into a wide grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Imelda, darling!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I'm so proud of you for summoning such a powerful grimoire!"

I tensed, sensing her insincerity and waiting for her to reveal her true intentions. Immy looked at her mother warily, clearly suspicious as well.

"Imagine that!" Bellona continued, her voice dripping with feigned excitement. "You've finally come into your powers, and now you're the prized daughter of the Willowby family! Oh, how wonderful!"

"Mother, you never considered me the prized daughter before," Immy said cautiously, holding the grimoire even tighter to her chest. "So why change that now?"

Bellona moved closer, as if she were going to embrace Immy, but I materialized between them, determined not to let her anywhere near the grimoire.

"Edge," Immy whispered softly, but she made no effort to move me out of the way or defend her mother. I felt a surge of pride and warmth from her trust in me.

"Mother, why does obtaining this grimoire suddenly make me the pride and joy of the Willowby family?" Immy asked, her voice steady and demanding answers.

"Isn't it obvious?" Bellona replied airily, trying to peer around me to catch an unfiltered glimpse of the grimoire. "A witch with a powerful grimoire is a force to be reckoned with, especially one chosen by the book itself."

"Chosen?" I echoed, my mind racing with the implications. Was there more to this grimoire than we realized?

"Exactly," Bellona said, her eyes narrowing as she focused on Immy. "This grimoire wouldn't have claimed you if it didn't sense your potential. You'll be respected. Now you can find the perfect match for you to grow your powers and take your place in the coven.

"Is that all you care about?" Immy asked, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "Our family's reputation?"

"Of course not," Bellona replied smoothly, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings. "I only want what's best for my daughter. Which is being a good witch with a respectable and high class husband."

"Nothing changed. I'm still the same witch I was before."

The sweet smile plastered on Bellona's face seemed to be at odds with the calculating gleam in her eyes. "My dear Imelda," she said, her voice dripping with false affection, "it's not just any grimoire we're talking about here. It's that grimoire specifically."

"Are you familiar with it?" Immy asked, suspicion lacing her words.

The look of outrage and condescension that flashed across Bellona's face made my ghostly form bristle with anger. Immy must have sensed my tension because she reached out and placed her hand on my shoulder. A simple touch that instantly soothed me.

"Of course I am," Bellona snapped. "That grimoire has been lost for centuries, sought after by witches far more powerful than you could ever dream of becoming. It is rumored to be so powerful that only the grimoire itself can choose which witch is worthy enough to wield it. And now, my darling daughter, it seems to have chosen you." She paused and eyed the book covetously. "I just never thought it would settle for someone as... inexperienced as you."

"And yet, it did," Immy said, holding the grimoire tighter against her chest.

"Indeed," Bellona replied, her voice like silk. She extended her hand toward the grimoire, her fingers brushing the spine. But as her fingertips touched the leather, the book seemed to come alive, emitting a spark that sent her recoiling with a hiss.

"Clearly," Bellona sneered, shaking her stung hand, "the grimoire is not as discerning as I had hoped. Nevertheless, I can make this work. Together, we'll unlock its secrets, and you will finally become the witch you were meant to be."

"Who says I want to do that?" Immy countered, defiance clear in her voice.

"Of course you do," Bellona replied, as if it were obvious. "You're a Willowby, after all. It's your destiny."

As she spoke, I could see the gears turning in Immy's head. She was grappling with this newfound power and what it meant for her future. And while I wanted to support her and help her navigate this strange new world, I couldn't shake the feeling that Bellona had something more sinister planned for us.