The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4)

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The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) Page 24

by Aasheim, April


  Merry flexed her newly-developed biceps and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about Montana with all your bodyguards.” Her smile faded as quickly as it appeared. “But I do have one more question. If Jillian left to have her baby, why didn’t she stay with her daughter?”

  I knew. Because Armand was obsessed with Jillian. He would have found her, wherever she hid, especially if he knew she had his baby. He wouldn’t have been as dismissive about her having a daughter as he was with Larinda.

  “Redirection,” I said, thinking of how Shane faked his own death and Mother openly performed witchcraft in public.

  My heart broke for Jillian. How terrible to have a child with the man you love, only to send it away because you also feared him. I still wasn’t sure if she was on my side, but I felt a tremendous empathy for her in that moment.

  “So...” Merry began tentatively. “Not to change the subject, but I wanted to check in with you about Shane. I can’t imagine the emotional roller coaster you two must be on right now.”

  I shook my head, replaying the events since his return. “Surreal is the only word I can come up with. And maybe worried.”

  “Why worried?”

  “It can all be taken away from me again. I can’t go through this twice, Merry. All I think about now is wanting to keep everyone near me, where I can watch over them.”

  She laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry about Shane. He can handle himself. You just take care of you right now. We’ll all pitch in with Montana until we get this sorted out. I think we’re close to breaking this curse. I just... feel it.”

  “I feel it, too. I’m just not sure how it’ll play out.”

  “You know what they say. What doesn’t kill you––”

  “––sends you running into the woods like a crazy woman.” I finished for her.

  She laughed. I took her hand, pulling her up out of the bean bag chair just as Aunt Dora called us to dinner.

  “If you run, you won’t get far,” Merry said, giving my hand a squeeze. “I happen to know where I can rent a tracker, should the occasion arise.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  God Only Knows

  AS I CAME down the stairs for dinner, I overheard Michael and Shane conversing in the living room. I paused mid-step, anxious as to what those two might be talking about.

  “I'll speak to her about getting more rest,” Shane said.

  “I appreciate that. She's been running herself ragged lately.”

  “I'll do my best, but you know how stubborn Maggie can be. Is it my imagination or is there something different about her? She seems... softer?”

  “She was a girl when you left. She’s a woman now. Can you handle a real woman, Sport?”

  “I seemed to handle her just fine a while ago... Sport.”

  “In all fairness,” Michael jabbed. “She already got some of her aggression out on me.”

  Realizing the situation was escalating fast, I hurriedly joined them. They immediately dropped their posturing and greeted me with exaggerated smiles.

  “Maggie, I was just about to check on you,” Michael said. “How's our boy?”

  “Fine for now, thanks to Merry. But maybe we should try another pediatrician, just in case.”

  “I agree one thousand percent.”

  Shane held out his hand. “Hold on there, Maggie, you can't leave Dark Root. Let Michael take him.”

  “Why can’t I leave?”

  “Excuse us,” Shane nodded to Michael, as he pulled me into the kitchen and out the back door.

  The sun was low and the sky ablaze in a medley of vivid pastels. We walked to the far edge of the garden before Shane turned to me. He looked into my eyes, his face shaven and his hair now clean and combed.

  “Shane, what's going on? Why can't I leave town?”

  “It's dangerous. People from The Agency are still looking for me.”

  “You said they don't know about me. Besides, you’re dead as far as they're concerned, right?”

  “They don't know about you yet, but we’re strongly connected and my energy is all over you.” He paused, scrutinizing the barren garden as he scratched the back of his neck. “Irene and I filed for divorce in Vegas days before our 'accident.' The Agency will be wondering why. If they have a good psychic and tracker on their team––which I know they do––they'll be able to get a read on me through you. Dark Root is still magically shielded and doesn’t register on their radar, but outside of here we’re fair game.”

  “You're divorced?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn it, Shane. You're an ass!”

  “Why?”

  “You could have told me. That's an important little nugget you left out of the story.”

  “I’m sorry. I think I was just sore you weren’t wearing my ring anymore.” He lifted my left hand, displaying my bare finger.

  I pulled my hand away. “I lost it.”

  “Oh? So it didn't disappear back into the dream world?”

  “Maybe that's how I lost it.”

  “I forgot how frustrating you can be. Beautiful, but frustrating.”

  “All the best women are.”

  “So you forgive me?”

  “I've realized what's really important these last few months, Shane. Some things aren’t worth dwelling on.”

  “Wow, you really have changed.” He stepped forward, his fingers lightly grazing my shoulders.

  “Maybe I'm just running out of light bulbs,” I said, lifting my chin.

  “You kept an entire industry in business, my dear. GE sends its sincerest thanks.”

  I snorted softly. “I'm working on controlling my temper and being better at letting things go. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook. I've forgiven you for the past, but in the future...”

  “Got it,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I will never screw up like that again.” He tightened his grip on me. “That's why you can't leave Dark Root. You're a blazing light for trackers. Your emotions flash like a police siren. Just wait till all this settles down a bit, please?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Okay, I can stay put a while longer, but Montana really should see a doctor.”

  “Let Michael take him. He's proven he's a good dad. You owe him that.”

  Though disconcerted by Shane suddenly complimenting Michael, I had to agree. “He has been amazing. I didn't know he was capable of such selflessness.”

  I thought about Michael and Shane, both making sacrifices for their children. Mother was wrong about warlocks. Sadly, I'd let her prejudices color me. From now on, all my opinions would be my own.

  I hugged Shane tightly, lost in love for him. “I'll let Michael take Montana to the doctor. Just don't tell him I caved. He'll act smug.”

  “Glad to see your newfound humility hasn't dented your pride.”

  I pointed to the corner of the garden, where the soil met the tree line. “That's where I bury my demons,” I whispered.

  “I hope they’re good fertilizer,” he joked, though his fingers tensed against my skin.

  “Don't worry,” I said. “It's just one demon so far, and he's in a glass jar for safekeeping. Although...”

  I hesitated. “I, uh, think there might be one in your diner.”

  “What?”

  “I believe my father opened a portal decades ago, and a dark spirit followed him back.”

  Shane chewed on his lip. “I admit I've felt something in there. A few somethings, actually. Once I even had to talk myself out of hightailing it out of there in the middle of the dinner rush. The atmosphere suddenly got so heavy I thought I was suffocating.”

  “I know that feeling.”

  “You think a malevolent spirit caused the fire?” he asked.

  “That's my guess.”

  “Why now, though?”

  “I think the Council blocked the portal long ago, but it couldn’t hold forever. It may be due to Dora and Jillian’s weakened abilities. I know the magick is slipping all over Dark Root, and w
e need to start strengthening the protection spells.”

  “Well, that’s just great. The diner hasn't seen a haunting in thirty years, but the second I fix it up the ghosts come back.”

  “Your biscuits probably get good word of mouth in the spirit world,” I teased.

  “Or maybe the dead just heard I had a pretty new girlfriend and wanted to pop over and take a gander for themselves?”

  “Much more plausible.” I nodded towards the kitchen window, all chatter inside as the others paraded by with covered dishes, tall wine glasses, and baskets of homemade bread. “I guess we should join them. Even if this dinner is in your honor, it won't stop Ruth Anne from eating everything on the table if we're late.”

  Shane rubbed his stomach. “Yeah, we better. I haven't had a home cooked meal since...”

  His words trailed off and I didn't press. The past was the past. We held hands and walked back to the house, both quietly longing for a return to normal life. He paused at the back steps to inspect the half-buried jar sticking out from the ground. “Anything else happen in my absence?”

  “You know all the big stuff.”

  “What about the little stuff?”

  “Hmm. Well, I had some run-ins with Larinda, my dead grandmother tried to kill me, I kissed Michael, and I'm pretty sure my son is going to push me over a banister one day.”

  “What do you mean you kissed Michael?”

  “That's what you latch on to?”

  Shane grabbed me and kissed me passionately. When he finally released me, I was pleasantly dizzy. “I'm going to kiss you so much you'll forget all about Michael. I'll kiss away every thought you've ever had of that man, if it takes an entire lifetime.”

  “Deal,” I said, melting into him.

  My euphoria faded as I spotted a large raven, watching us from a high perch in a nearby oak. Another of Larinda's minions, no doubt.

  I glared at the creature, daring it to come closer. The bird fidgeted on the branch, knowing it had been spotted, then flew back into the thick of the woods.

  My fever returned instantly and without warning. The world spun, and it wasn't due to the lingering effects of Shane's kiss.

  The next moment, he was carrying me into the house, calling for aspirin and a cool cloth. I could see his blurred face, frantically tapping my cheeks, and calling my name.

  I reached for him as the world disappeared.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Touch Me

  MERRY FILLED THE tub with tepid water while Jillian added Epsom salts and peppermint oil. Eve lit candles and Ruth Anne helped me undress. Aunt Dora managed the steep climb upstairs and stood guard outside the bathroom door, sending the men away whenever they approached.

  The water warmed as it absorbed my body heat. I sank into the bubbles, my vision enveloped by the mountains of suds.

  “I saw a raven,” I rambled.

  The others answered “yes, yes,” and “shh, save your strength.”

  Didn’t they understand the raven was an omen? It appeared with my fever. If I had my doubts about the curse before, it was clear to me now that Larinda was behind it. She wanted to weaken me in order at get to my son, to offer him up to my father. But it would take more than a fever––she wasn't just fighting one witch; she was battling an entire coven.

  The women filed in and out in shifts, refilling my tub water and keeping me awake. Eve arrived at some point, handing me a cup of yarrow tea as she sat down on the toilet seat. She looked me over, lost for words. “Oh, Maggie.”

  “I'm fine now,” I tried to reassure her. I could take most anyone's pity, but not Eve's. Because when pity shone in her eyes, I knew things were bad.

  I glanced at a clear vial cupped in her hands. “What's that?”

  “This?” Her dark eyes lit up beneath her bangs. She leaned forward, her eyes darting towards the door where Aunt Dora stood just outside. “I didn't have a chance to say anything yet, but Paul's coming tomorrow! I'm so excited I don't know what to do.” She smiled, but then let it fade. “I mean, I was excited, until this happened.”

  I pulled myself upright in the tub, crossing my arms in front of me. “Don't feel guilty for being happy. There's already enough guilt in this house at the moment.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” She held out her wrist, displaying a freshly inked heart tattoo with an inscription reading: Eve and Paul Forever.

  “You must really love him,” I said. Eve had never so much as doodled a boy's name in her journal, yet here she was tattooing Paul’s name on her flawless skin.

  “It's not a real tattoo, or even henna. It’s magick ink I found in Mother's room when we cleaned it out. Now I can’t get it off, and I can't let him see this!”

  “Why? He might be flattered.”

  Eve rolled her eyes. “A man must never know you're thinking of him, Maggie. They only respond to aloofness and being ordered around. Once they think they have you, they disappear. I only wish this mark would.”

  “And the vial in your hands will help how?”

  “I made this vanishing ointment earlier, but I don't think I got it right.” She pulled the stopper and dabbed a bit of blue oil onto the tip of her finger, then rubbed it across the heart. She inspected the tattoo, frowned, then added another dose.

  “Can’t you just cover it with makeup until it fades?”

  Eve added more oil and then rinsed her hands under the sink. “I tried that – it didn’t work. On the plus side, this vanishing potion is an old recipe of Mom’s and could make us rich, if we figure out the right balance of ingredients.”

  “You really think it will sell?”

  “Yes. I’m also working on another recipe Mom used that might even be better. That one actually illuminates things that are concealed by magic. Mother just left lists of ingredients and crude instructions, but I'll get them right.”

  I ran more warm water as I considered the implications of Mother’s illumination potion. “So, if we had enough of that stuff, it could reveal magickal portals and doors, too?” I asked, hopefully.

  “Maybe. For that level of magick we'd probably need it in mist form.”

  “Too bad we don't have the mist now,” I lamented. “We'd spray this town down with a fire hose. Who knows how many secrets we'd uncover?”

  I thought about the mysterious portal in Dip Stix, and the one in Sister House. There were probably many more doorways, carved out by my father and Larinda, waiting to be rediscovered.

  Eve continued to dab at the oil on her wrist. At last, she held up her hands, a proud grin on her face. There wasn't so much as a shadow of the magickal ink anywhere on her skin. “Don't tell me I don't know my potions!” she announced.

  “As long as I live, I'll never speak those words.”

  She looked grimly at me. I leveraged myself from the tub and she handed me a warm towel.

  “I'm sorry you're sick again,” she said. “But at least you have Shane here to help now. Just think, we'll both have our guys back.” She caught her reflection in the mirror and slid her hands through her silky mane, all concern gone from her face. “Now we need to find Merry a guy. And don't you dare suggest Michael! The sooner that man runs off to form another cult, the better.”

  “I don't think Merry wants a guy,” I said, carefully drying off. “I think she just wants June Bug home.”

  “June Bug is great, but she won't keep Merry warm at night.” Eve took my towel and exchanged it for a robe. “But kids do change you. I can't wait to see Paul but I can't wait to hug Nova either. He says she may start school here in August. Can you believe that? Our kids may all grow up together, and I won't even have to wreck my body for it!”

  “You always come out on top, Eve.”

  She looked at me, her insensitivity finally registering on her pretty face. “You're just so strong, it’s easy to forget you’re sick.”

  “I forget, too,” I admitted. “And I have every intention of seeing our kids grow up together, and then seeing them all want to run away
from this town. Just like we did.”

  Eve smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Yes, only to wish they'd never left.”

  “They'll realize Dark Root has everything they need––fine food and friendly folks.”

  And ghosts, demons, curses.

  We had everything here in Dark Root.

  Even things that shouldn’t be here.

  WHEN MY FEVER finally broke, I was given dry crackers and sent to bed with another mug of yarrow tea. As I laid on top of the sheets, seeing colored tracers, Michael slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I had to check on you, which wasn't easy. Dora must have been a prison guard in a past life.” He sat on the edge of my bed, his breath stinking of wine. “Are you alright?”

  He put a hand on my knee and I brushed it away. “I'm better now but these attacks are getting worse.”

  “That's only part of what I meant. Shane returned after you thought him dead. There must be psychological effects. It's no wonder you are fainting and feverish.”

  He reached for me and I rolled away. “I'm fine, Michael,” I said, slurring my words. I could hardly feel my tongue anymore. “Go to bed. We'll talk in the morning.”

  He looked me over. “Your face is still flushed.”

  “I just had a bath.”

  “You feel clammy, too.”

  I pointed weakly to the door. “Michael, it's over. I'm sorry if I led you on. That's on me. I was heartbroken and distraught, trying to do what I thought was best for Montana. You caught me at a weak moment. Can you chalk it up to that?”

  He paused, searching my eyes for the truth. At last he nodded, a silhouette of sadness. “I'll let you sleep, Maggie, but I can't let you go.”

  “I will always care for you, Michael. I've gotten beyond my anger and I think we've developed an actual friendship, which was something we never had, even when we were together...

  “We're friends,” I reiterated. “And that's all we can be. I'm in love with Shane. He's the other half of my soul.”

 

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