“What?”
“I said I love you and you’re wise,” I corrected.
“That’s what I thought you said,” Aric said. “Why can’t she take responsibility for this?”
“I’m a big believer in taking responsibility,” I said. “You know I am. But she did not set out to do it, and admitting something like this could open her to closer scrutiny if she slips while telling the teacher what happened. We can’t afford that.”
“I think you’re just covering for her because you wish you would’ve thought about doing that when you were in college. You hated math classes,” Aric said.
Sadly, he wasn’t wrong. I didn’t even think of that. That would’ve made all of those unnecessary science classes – like oceanography and astronomy – a tad more tolerable. It’s not like I ever used the knowledge gained there again. “She’s not telling her teacher, and that’s final.”
I hopped to my feet and grabbed Sami’s wrist as I tugged her toward the door. There was no way I was leaving her with Aric so he could run the world’s biggest guilt trip on her. “How does ice cream cake sound?”
“It doesn’t sound like punishment,” Aric called to my back.
I stilled long enough to fix him with a dark look. “Sure it does,” I said. “I’m punishing you for not agreeing with me by eating it all without you.”
I could tell he didn’t want to laugh, but he ultimately gave in and did just that. “Don’t even think about eating that cake without me.”
Sami squealed as he chased us toward the door, laughing maniacally as I hurried her to the kitchen.
“You can’t have cake,” I said. “You have to learn how to do the new math. That’s the promise you made, and Sami has a buttload of homework due when she gets back to school. I don’t think you have time for cake.”
“There’s always time for cake,” Aric said, hopping into the kitchen and earning an eye roll from James as he sat in one of the living room chairs reading the newspaper. “Then I’m going to trounce you in this new math thing and you’ll have to bow down to my intellectual superiority.”
He’s so full of it sometimes. “Bring it on.”
Twenty
“That’s not right.”
Sami held her ice cream plate and looked over Aric’s shoulder as he studied her math book and scribbled something on a sheet of paper. She took Aric’s offer to help her understand the new system to heart and insisted he start right away. She was having a great time watching him struggle.
She definitely got that trait from me.
“I’m not done yet,” Aric said. He was growing testier by the minute, although he was doing an admirable job of hiding his anger.
“Leave your dad alone with his homework and come up here,” I instructed, patting the countertop.
Sami hopped up, all smiles, and fixed me with a curious look. “What?”
“Tell me about when you caused the purse to explode,” I said. “What did it feel like inside of you?”
“Sami exploded a purse? When did this happen?” James walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the refrigerator to grab a beer. “Did she do it today?”
“It was months ago,” Sami replied.
“She didn’t want to tell us because she thought she would get in trouble,” Aric said, furrowing his brow as he stared at the textbook. “Is this like a joke thing you two cooked up to mess with me?”
“Nope. Focus on your homework.” I grabbed one of the gummy sharks from Sami’s plate and popped it into my mouth.
“Hey! That’s my favorite part.”
“You’ll live,” I said. “You can consider it your punishment.”
“Yeah, that’s dire,” Aric muttered.
“What are you working on, son?” James asked, moving to the table. “Are you doing homework?”
“I’m trying to do homework,” Aric replied. “Zoe keeps going on and on about this new math thing. I thought she was exaggerating because … well … you know. But now I don’t think she was exaggerating.”
“That will teach you for doubting me,” I said.
“It’s middle school math,” James said. “How hard can it be?”
“You do it,” Aric said, shoving the textbook and paper in his father’s direction. “It’s like water torture or something.”
“Ha, ha.” I stuck out my tongue in Aric’s direction and earned a look I knew promised retribution. I was pretty sure it would be fun for both of us, though, so I wasn’t terribly worried.
“Yeah, ha, ha,” Sami said, giggling as Aric tickled her ribs before joining me on the other side of the counter.
“Focus, Sami,” I said, patting the counter to get her attention. “What did it feel like when you exploded the purse?”
“It felt … like something was ripping open the top of my head,” Sami answered. “It was like something was growing inside of there and it had to get out.”
“That is … terrifying,” Aric said. “Does that happen to you, too?”
“Kind of,” I said. “That’s why I vent to stop that from happening. It sounds as if she didn’t vent, which is why the purse exploded.”
“Whose purse exploded?” Helen asked, walking into the room. “It wasn’t mine, was it? It’s new.”
“It was at school a few months ago,” I said, irritated I had to parent in front of other people. “Sami got angry at another student and blew up her purse.”
“Ooh, that sounds exciting.” Helen flashed a bright smile. “Did she know it was you?”
Sami shook her head. “She switched schools between semesters, though.”
“I remember that,” I said. “She was really tight with Katie Dolloway before leaving. I wonder why she left.”
“Katie has been auditioning new best friends ever since,” Sami said, causing me to still.
“Auditioning? Is that what’s been going on?”
Sami shrugged. “I … no.”
That was obviously a lie. “Well, that’s stopping right now,” I said. “You don’t need Katie to be your friend. She’s obnoxious and her mother may be evil. You’re better off without her.”
“I second that,” Aric said. “Besides, real friends don’t audition. They just happen. Look at Mom and Paris. They’ve been best friends forever. Paris didn’t audition your mother.”
“I would’ve still won the part,” I said.
“Oh, geez. You can let some of them go,” Aric said. “You don’t have to win everything.”
He was wrong, but now wasn’t the time for a fight. “Tell me about when you saw the answers in Trina’s head. Did you go looking for them, or did you just stumble across them?”
“What now?” James asked, not looking up from the textbook. He was engrossed in the project.
“Sami also managed to pluck the correct answers for a math test from one of her classmate’s brains,” Aric supplied. “I want to punish her for cheating, but Zoe thinks stealing gummy sharks from Sami’s dessert plate is more than enough punishment.”
“I don’t know why you’re trying to shame me,” I said. “You know that never works.”
“And yet I still do it. I must be a masochist.”
“Quite possibly.”
“I was hoping the answers would just pop into my brain, and they did,” Sami said. “It took me a second to realize they were actually coming from Trina’s brain. I didn’t know if I should use them.”
“You obviously got over that quickly,” Aric said. “Why didn’t you think you should use them? Because you knew it was wrong?”
Sami shook her head. “I was worried the answers were wrong and I didn’t want to fail.”
I snorted, amused, and earned a hip pinch from my husband.
“It’s not funny, Zoe,” Aric said. “She needs to learn this stuff on her own.”
“You can’t learn it,” I pointed out.
“I’m … not done.” Aric rubbed his forehead. “It is ridiculous and stupid, though. Whoever thought of it was a jerk.”
“I kind of like it,” James said, licking his lips. “I don’t understand it, but it’s like a secret code, and I really want to crack it.”
“Well, then get to it,” I said. “Someone needs to teach it to Sami. My schedule is full up with killing people.”
“You are a wonder and a joy to be around,” James muttered.
“I say that every single day,” Aric said, tugging a strand of my hair. “Not that I’m not enjoying talking about this, but we really need to decide how we’re going to handle this. What’s our next move?”
“We need to get through the night. I want to search the woods tomorrow,” I said. “I have a feeling people have been close to the house – probably when Sami went into her trance – and you might be able to get a fresh scent for us to follow.
“If that doesn’t work,” I continued. “I thought I might be able to use that old trick I whipped out when Rafael was missing and we followed his trail to Mark’s apartment.”
“Who’s Mark?” Sami asked.
“Your Aunt Paris’ ex-boyfriend,” I said. “Before Heath, she had bleeding tragic taste in men.”
“I heard that,” Paris announced, striding into the room with a dirty look on her face. “I would argue with your mother, but … she’s not wrong.”
“You probably picked bad guys because you were waiting for Heath to show up,” Sami said. “He’s your knight in shining armor.”
“He’s definitely that,” Paris said, placing a hand on Sami’s head. “The baby wants ice cream.”
“There’s more gummy shark cake in the freezer,” I said. “What have you been doing? I thought you went to bed early or something because you couldn’t take any more Winters family bonding.”
“I considered that, and I did get comfortable and put up my feet,” Paris said. “I’ve been reading that book instead.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What book?”
“The one you found at the abandoned house.”
“You brought it inside?” Aric asked, furious. “I said I didn’t want it in the house.”
“Relax, drama queen,” Paris dismissed. “I scanned it to make sure it wasn’t cursed or anything. It could be a vital clue. I didn’t want to overlook it.”
“Did you find anything?” I asked.
“I did indeed find a few things, although … .” She glanced at Sami, unsure.
“Go ahead and tell us,” I said. “I don’t think now is the time to keep things from Sami.”
“It’s kind of dark and twisted.”
“So is her math book,” I offered.
“I think it’s neat,” James supplied, never glancing up from the page he studied. “I still don’t get it, though.”
“Okay, so the book is really like a folklore tale,” Paris said, grunting as she heaved herself up on the stool next to Sami. “I need ice cream, Aric. The baby is really hungry.”
Aric shot me a look but moved toward the freezer. He remembered my “the baby is really hungry” excuses from when I was pregnant with Sami and he had to get up in the middle of the night to track down pickled beets and cottage cheese. At least we had ice cream in the house.
“I almost thought it was like fairy tales, but it’s too weird to be fairy tales,” Paris said. “That’s sobering in itself because what’s stranger than fiction?”
“True life,” I replied. “How did you read the pages? They were so dusty.”
“I cast a little cleaning spell,” Paris admitted, glancing over her shoulder. “Don’t tell Heath, because I promised to take it easy with the magic until the baby is born.”
“Can I be in the delivery room when you have the baby?” Sami asked. “I’d really like to film it as a project for my human development class.”
Aric made a horrified face as he shoved a plate in front of Paris. “You don’t want to see that, Sami. Trust me.”
“Did you see me being born?”
“Kind of,” Aric hedged. “I was with your mother the entire time.”
“He wouldn’t look down there during the action,” I explained. “He was terrified we would never have sex again if he did.”
“Mom! Gross!”
“Yeah, I’m thinking that’s the way I’m going to go with Heath, too,” Paris said. “Anyway, where was I?”
“The stories were weirder than fairytales,” I prodded.
“Right. So the book starts in the early 1800s. It’s basically a diary about settling on the land,” Paris supplied. “The entries are short and make it sound as if the family was really isolated. It was a woman, her daughter and the husband. They were in the house for about a year when the husband disappeared.”
“Disappeared? Are you sure? I thought we were laboring under the belief that these husbands were killed and anchored to the land by witchcraft.”
“I haven’t ruled that out,” Paris replied. “I’m just talking about the first husband. You’ll see where I’m going and probably agree, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
“You tell a story like Zoe,” Aric complained. “Get to the point.”
“I’m going to tell you fifty stories instead of rubbing your back later if you’re not careful,” I warned.
“Oh, don’t be like that, baby,” Aric crooned. “You know I love your stories.”
“Dad is whipped,” Sami said, imitating James and earning a guffaw from her grandfather.
“So the husband disappeared and the wife and her daughter stayed on even though it was difficult and she had a lot of farm work to do,” Paris said. “She didn’t say what they were farming, but it reads like there was a mixture of animals and crops.
“At some point another woman, who she referred to as Abigail, showed up out of the blue,” she continued. “She was disheveled and hungry, and this woman – and I don’t know her name because she never wrote it down – gave her food and a place to stay. In return, Abigail helped with the farm and things got markedly better for everyone involved.”
“Why is that important?” Aric asked.
“I’m getting to that,” Paris said. “The diary kind of goes dead for a year if the dates are to be believed. There are two pages missing from that section, which means someone yanked them out. I have no idea what was on them. When the diary picks up again, Abigail and the author are … um … more than friends.”
“Ooh, lesbians,” Sami said. “It’s like that prison show that Mom won’t let me watch.”
Aric seemed intrigued by the lesbians, too. “Did she write about … you know … the stuff they did?”
“Buy a porn magazine,” I said, poking his side. “Why is the lesbianism a problem? I would think isolation creates genuine need in some cases, and more power to them.”
“Well, I had to read between the lines a bit, but I think it’s important because Abigail was a witch,” Paris replied. “There is no mention of spells or curses, but the author mentioned a drought and Abigail singing for rain. To me that sounds like a chant.”
“Okay.”
“The author died at some point. Her daughter, Dora, picked up the story when she was an adult and taking care of the house,” Paris said. “She left for a period and mentioned coming back and having to fix things up. She had a lazy husband who preferred making her do all the work. Then he disappeared, although it only happened after a woman showed up – disheveled – and claimed she needed help.”
Uh-oh. I saw where this was going. “Was her name Abigail?”
“It just so happens it was,” Paris said. “The second husband disappears. Abigail stays on to help. Dora wrote that she reminds her of the other Abigail, but they look different. She thinks it’s a mighty coincidence.
“There’s more mention of crops and singing for rain and prosperity after this, and then Dora stops writing,” she continued. “After that, another person – I think this one’s name was Elizabeth – starts writing. She was Dora’s daughter, and she moved away after her mother’s death.”
“Go back,” Aric prodded.
“Were Dora and Abigail lesbians, too?”
“You’re such a pervert,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“I like hearing about lesbians, too,” James offered. “It’s not just him.”
“That really doesn’t make me feel better,” I said. “What happened with Elizabeth?”
“Her husband was a preacher on the side, and by this time there were a few more people in the area, so they started their own church,” Paris answered. “They were happy with their small life and daughter until the husband went off hunting one day and never came back.”
“I have a hard time believing these women would be writing about the disappearances of their husbands if they were bumping them off,” I said. “Did another Abigail show up?”
“She did,” Paris said. “Two weeks after the husband disappeared, here comes another Abigail. Elizabeth said she was blond when the Abigail she knew had black hair, but she helped her out and they forged a partnership.”
“Were they lesbians?” Aric asked.
“Let it go,” I ordered.
“Just for the record, this goes on quite often. A new Abigail shows up each time,” Paris said. “This ended when the last daughter – her name was Marcy – just stops writing.”
“So we have to figure out what happened to this Marcy,” Aric mused.
“I doubt she was a lesbian, so don’t get your hopes up,” I said. “Was there anything else in the book besides the strange return of an Abigail witch no one thought to bar from their house?”
“There is one thing,” Paris said. “There’s a prophecy written in different handwriting from all of the other entries. It’s next to a drawing of that weird pentagram – the one with the hooked corners – that was painted on the floor. Both the drawing and prophecy were in the back of the book.”
“What does it say?”
“Ultimate prosperity will come in the form of The Archimage,” Paris said. “She will either be our undoing or greatest triumph.”
It was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
“What?”
Aric was beside himself. “Son of a … !”
Twenty-One
Dying Covenant: The Complete Series Page 18