by Chelsea Luna
A lone word caught my attention. I’d seen the same name scribbled on the edges of Grandma Claudia’s journal. It wasn’t a rare name, but it was far from common.
“Liam.”
Peter raised his eyebrows and pointed at his chest. “My name is Peter, remember?”
“Very funny.” I flipped through the next few pages. The name ‘Liam’ was written all over the entries. “Grandma Claudia had that name scribbled on the margins of her journal. Remember?”
“Yeah.”
“Sarah Ross mentions someone named Liam, too.”
Peter looked at me like I was crazy. “Isn’t Sarah’s journal like four hundred years old or something?”
“Yes.” Logic deflated my small flicker of hope. It was the only connection I’d made with the name in my grandmother’s journal and all the other books. “I guess you’re right.”
Peter stifled a grin and returned to the hockey game.
Hadn’t I heard the name ‘Liam’ before? I couldn’t remember where, but I knew I had, and not just written in Grandma Claudia or Sarah’s journals. But someone talking about a Liam. I turned back to the first time I saw the name in Sarah’s journal and started reading:
15th of October, 1624
Last night, I had another nightmare. It felt so real. I’m a fearin’ that the dream is a warnin’. The auld lady from the market was right. Liam was comin’ for me. What else could it be? What else could explain what I’m seein’? A fog, dark as night, has settled over my family.
24th of October, 1624
I was by the loch this afternoon. I canna shake the feelin’ that I was no longer alone. Ma and wee Jamie were in the house and Da went to the village to trade. I kept looking over my shoulder, expectin’ to see someone, but it wasn’t so. Could he already be here? Has he found me? Is he watchin’? Waitin’?
25th of October, 1624
I destroyed the kettle. I dinna’ mean to, o’course, but I heard a noise and being so scart’, my emotions got out of control. I panicked. Then the kettle hangin’ over the fire cracked down the heavy cast iron, leakin’ the contents of ma’s supper into the flames.
Ma was furious, but she dinna’ say a word. Everyone feels it, too. Liam is comin’. It was silly to think we could hide from him. Leavin’ East Lothian was wrong. We shoulda’ stayed. We would at least have known our surroundings.
27th of October, 1624
Today I felt verra’ angry that they dinna’ heed God’s warning. Now we all will pay. I felt someone watchin’ me as I slept last night. I was too scart’ to open my eyes. Scart’ to see Liam, but when I gained enough courage to look, no one was in the room.
29th of October, 1624
My fingers feel differen’. Like the skin on the tips is too tight. Everythin’ I touch has a differen’ feel to it. I should call out into the dark for Liam to take me. Maybe then no harm will come to Ma, Da and Jamie.
30th of October, 1624
I yelled for Liam in the forest. I’m tired of waitin’. It’s drivin’ me mad. I begged him to take me. I feel him ever’where. I will give myself to him. A slow flame is burnin’ me from within. It’s more than I expected.
I will do everythin’ in my power to save my family.
31st of October, 1624
All Hallows Eve. The time is near.
Liam is ever’where. The pain is intolerable. It pours from every inch of my body. Heat radiatin’ throughout, threatenin’ to explode. Ma says it won’t last too much longer, but how would she know what I am feelin’? Once night falls, I’ll go to the forest and call out to him. I’ll crawl if the pain is too unbearable. I’ll offer myself to him.
I must keep my family safe.
The journal abruptly ended with Sarah’s last entry on Halloween. There was no November 1st. Whoever this Liam was, he came for Sarah just like she knew he would.
I wasn’t aware that my breathing was shallow. I wasn’t aware that I was gripping the journal too hard. I wasn’t aware of anything, but the words of Sarah Ross. My ancestor.
“What’s wrong?” Peter was on the edge of the bed. His strong hands gripped my arms. “Lex? Hey?”
The lamps were furiously flicking on and off. The television channels were rapidly changing even though Peter was nowhere near the remote.
“Lex? Can you hear me?”
I exhaled deeply. The release of air calmed my nerves. The tension rolled off my shoulders and I unclenched my fingers from Sarah’s journal. The lights stopped flicking and the television turned off. Everything went silent.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“What happened?” Peter pulled my chin up so he could look into my eyes. “What is it? What did you read?”
“Sarah Ross was in hiding and then she was killed.”
“By Gamma?”
“I don’t know. She was terrified of someone named Liam. He was coming for her.”
“You think this Liam, the one that came after your ancestor, Sarah, is the same person your Grandma Claudia mentioned in her journal?”
Peter’s voice wasn’t skeptical, not in the least, but when he said the words aloud it sounded ridiculous. Right? Obviously, it wasn’t the same Liam. Sarah Ross was killed four hundred years ago.
The name spooked me. I was so desperate to connect the strange name from Grandma Claudia’s journal to something concrete that I jumped to a ridiculous conclusion.
Peter was carefully watching each emotion that flitted across my face.
“Sorry. I’m scaring myself.”
He pulled me onto the bed next to him and stroked my hair. “Reading that stuff would get anyone spooked. And you’ve been scouring those books for days.”
I immediately wanted to change the subject. I was tired of the supernatural, too. “What are our plans for tomorrow night?”
“We can go to Olivia’s New Years Eve party or Sage’s little get together in his basement or we can watch Dick Clark at home on the couch.” Peter stroked my hair, gently massaging my scalp.
I didn’t hesitate. “Dick Clark?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Great, it’s a date. I’ll pick up some snacks and sparkling cider.”
“Perfect.” Peter glanced at the clock.
“Is it time for you to go?”
“I can stay tonight if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m sleepy anyways.”
Peter hesitated. Lately, he was in the habit of being home by this time. It was strange at first, but I’d gotten use to it. Since we no longer lived with Victor in the Hallows, there was no need for Peter to sneak in and sneak out. Now he came and went as he pleased. He even had a key.
But after Mrs. LaViollette caught Anne Marie sneaking out again, Peter liked to be home by eleven so he could keep an eye on things. I didn’t blame him. Especially after what I heard about Anne Marie and Logan’s make out session in the Bell Tower at Hawthorne Prep. It was great she was in love, but she was really young. Mrs. LaViollette worked a ton of hours and it was up to Peter to watch out for his little sister.
I pulled myself to a sitting position. “Go home. If not, you’ll be driving all around Hazel Cove looking for her.”
Peter frowned. “Do you want to come over?”
“I need some sleep. Big day tomorrow, remember?”
Peter’s frowned deepened. “If you insist on going to Boston, then at least let me drive you to meet James. That way he can be reminded of my presence.”
“Fine.”
“What time are you meeting him?”
“Ten o’clock in the school parking lot. Come over earlier and I’ll make breakfast.”
“Deal,” Peter said. He leaned over and kissed me. The tip of his tongue lightly grazed my bottom lip in a soft caress.
“See you in the morning,” I said, a little breathlessly.
Peter closed the door behind him. I heard him tell Emma goodnight and the sound of Peter locking the front door. I stretched out on the bed. I wasn’t tired. Not in t
he least bit. I was still deeply disturbed by Sarah’s journal, however irrational the idea. The name ‘Liam’ was going to bug me to no end.
I felt restless. I reached for my cell phone and scanned my contacts. I called Sadie but it went straight to voicemail. It was eleven o’clock, so she was probably sleeping. Sadie was a morning person. Most nights she went to bed before the nightly news. I scrolled down the names in my phone and stopped on Aunt Vanessa.
Would she be home? Awake? Or working at the hospital? There was only one way to find out. I sent her a quick text message: “Are you busy?”
She replied instantly: “Nope. Watching ‘Gilmore Girl’ reruns. What’s up? Everything okay?”
“Can you Skype right now?”
“Sure. Will be on in two minutes.”
I hopped off the bed and grabbed my laptop from my desk. It took a few seconds for the computer to turn on and for the program to load. I nervously twisted my hair until my aunt logged on.
“Hey, there.” Vanessa was sitting on the couch wearing an old LSU t-shirt. “What’s new?”
“Not much. I wanted to thank you for the shoes. They’re great.”
“No Christmas is complete without a new pair of heels. Thanks for my sweater. It’s fabulous.”
The unopened box of expensive stilettos was on the dresser. I’d probably never wear them - heels weren’t my thing - but it was nice of Vanessa to think of me over the holidays.
Two cats jumped on the couch beside her.
“You have black cats?” I asked.
“You knew that.”
“No, I knew you had cats. Not black ones.”
Vanessa shrugged. “I like a little irony.”
Vanessa’s necklace was sticking out from her yellow t-shirt. I seized my identical silver ‘R’ charm - the Ross Family crest - and twisted it between my fingers.
Her eyes lowered to my necklace. “You’re fidgety. Did something happen?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
She looked doubtful. “What’s new in Hazel Cove? How’s Peter?”
“He’s good.”
Silence.
Vanessa took a deep breath. “Spit it out, kid. I’m sure I’ve heard worse. What happened? Did you do something?”
“Nothing happened. But, I was wondering if you’ve heard of a person named….”
Vanessa leaned forward. Her face had to be inches away from the camera because her image took up most of my screen. “Who?”
“Liam?”
“Liam who?”
“I don’t know his last name.”
“Does he live in New Orleans? Or in Hazel Cove?”
“Never mind.”
“No,” Vanessa said sharply. “Who is Liam?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m asking you.”
“Where did you hear that name?”
“I didn’t hear it. I saw it.”
The mask of calm on Vanessa’s face disappeared. She leaned close to her screen. Light green eyes flickered back and forth. “Alexandria, where did you see that name?”
“In some of the old journals. Sarah Ross’ journal to be exact. Do you know about him? The Liam that killed Sarah Ross?”
Vanessa’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Oh.”
“What do you know about him? Was he a witch hunter?” I pressed.
She sat back against the couch. The two black cats came into view. “No, he’s a witch. Or warlock, whatever you want to call him. Most people in the know still use the term witch for either male or female.”
Liam was a witch. I immediately felt better, but then quickly remembered Sarah’s tragic ending. “Wait. He was a witch that killed another witch? Why?”
Vanessa grimaced. “Do you remember when I said there was a fine line between white and black magic?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Liam does the blackest magic that you can think of.”
“He hunted other witches?”
“He hunts everything.”
It was then that I noticed Vanessa was referring to Liam in the present tense. “Wait. You said ‘hunts.’”
“I did.”
“He’s still alive?”
“I assume,” Vanessa said. “I haven’t heard any accounts of him since Salem, but I’m sure he’s around somewhere. Hopefully, on the other side of the planet.”
“He killed Sarah Ross,” I said quietly.
“And many others.”
“But that was four hundred years ago.”
“Yes.”
“How is that possible?”
Vanessa’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “He deals in very, very dark magic.”
“Is he immortal?”
“No…he can die, I think. It’s just that he’s so powerful and…”
“What?”
She sighed. “He’s full blooded, of course. You can’t be that powerful without being a pureblood. But no one knows how old Liam is. Accounts go as far back as the ancient Egyptians. He shows up all around the world in bits of stories and legends. The Black Plague. The Crusades. The fall of the Ottoman Empire. Some even say he’s one of the first original witches to ever walk the Earth. Who knows what’s true or not? You know how rumors fly.”
Grandma Claudia warned me once about rumors. They always contained a shred of the truth.
Vanessa petted the cat. “Liam conjures spirits. He deals in every dark art you could imagine. No rules apply to him. He’s rogue and he’s very dangerous.”
“Do you know anyone that knows him?”
A shudder shook Vanessa’s entire frame. “No. And that’s a good thing. He’s not the kind of company you want to keep.”
“You mentioned Salem before. Liam was in Salem?”
“That was the last confirmed sighting I’ve heard of, but there’s speculation that he’s been in other areas.”
“When was he in Salem?”
“During the Witch Trials.”
Over three hundred years ago. “Oh.”
“Did you ever hear about stories the locals told the magistrates during the Salem Witch trials? They claimed the women would meet in the forest under the moonlight and dance for the Devil?”
This time it was my turn to shiver. “The Devil?”
Vanessa quickly shook her head. “It wasn’t the Devil. It was Liam. He was searching for something in Salem in 1692. I don’t know what, but he was there. Maybe that’s what ignited the hysteria. Liam’s presence stirs up the supernatural atmosphere. It puts people on edge. Especially other witches.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Those stories about the women of Salem dancing in the moonlight - that’s not true - at least not for the innocent ones that were condemned to die,” Vanessa said. “But Liam did meet with the real witches in the area. Maybe they met in the middle of the forest; though I doubt there was any dancing.”
“Why would they meet with him if they were so frightened of him?”
“I’m sure they were terrified of him. Even the most powerful witches are terrified of him. It’s not really a question of will. If Liam wants you, you come.”
“Did he find whatever he was looking for in Salem?”
Vanessa shrugged. “No one knows why he was there. And no one has heard any concrete accounts of him since 1692. There are whispers, but no real evidence. I’m sure he’s still around somewhere.”
“Did he come here? Grandma Claudia said our family, the Longfellows and two other families were already settled in Hazel Cove during the Salem Witch Trials. Do you think Liam came here, too? Tracking whatever he was looking for?”
“Your grandmother believed so, but there’s no proof.”
“Really?”
Vanessa scratched between the cat’s ears. “She was interested in our history. I think being a Professor of Medieval Studies was an excuse for her to spend time in old libraries around the world.”
“Around the world?”
Vaness
a smiled. “Before Grandpa Gregory died, she traveled the world researching the history of witches and our family’s past, in particular.”
Another thing I never knew about my grandmother.
“Listen, don’t worry about whatever you’re reading about Liam. Just know he’s out there somewhere - hopefully under a rock - and that he’s a very, very bad guy who is into very, very bad things. That’s that. He hasn’t showed his face since 1692. Forget about him.”
“Thanks, Vanessa. I’m the only witch alive who knows nothing about the supernatural world. I’m probably the world’s dumbest witch.”
“Sometimes ignoring the supernatural is the best way to go. I’m kind of glad Emma sheltered it from you for so long. Try to get some rest. It’s late.”
“Goodnight, Vanessa.”
I clicked off the screen and closed the laptop. This Liam guy sounded like my worst nightmare. An evil, ancient, murderous pureblooded witch.
But what really bothered me was why did Grandma Claudia have Liam’s name written on the margins of her journal?
CHAPTER 11
I pulled back the bedspread, but hesitated before I slipped inside. I couldn’t sleep. Not after everything I’d learned tonight. I sat on the bed and folded my legs underneath me. I pushed the blankets away. It was hot again. I’d have to turn down the thermostat before I went to sleep.
Okay, so Liam was an evil pureblooded witch, who was potentially thousands of years old, who hunted witches and non-witches alike. Definitely someone you didn’t want to run into in a dark alley. So why didn’t Gamma hunt him down?
Whoa.
That was it.
It had been bugging me since Peter and I first saw the name written in Grandma Claudia’s journal. But I was right; I’d heard the name before. The night I followed Victor to the Gamma farmhouse.
Victor, William, Paul and George had been discussing my fate in the Gamma basement when I overheard their conversation. The name, at the time, didn’t mean anything to me. I was too shocked by the revelation that they believed I was a witch. But I remembered it clearly. William was arguing with Victor about what they should do with me.