by Maeve Hart
After the minister said a few words, various people got up to speak. Then it was Peter’s turn. He spoke about the family Don had left behind and said nothing of me, Don’s fiancée. I was miffed I’d been overlooked.
At the end, Jennifer and Peter’s daughter stood at the front and sang a hymn accompanied by piano. Then it was over. The next stop was the graveyard and only close family members were invited to attend.
Jennifer ran up and grabbed me by the arm. “Can you go with someone else to the graveyard?”
“Yes, I can go with Abbie.”
“Good. It was a mistake to have you sitting at the front with us. You’re not related and there were many people sitting in that church who were. There was no guarantee he was ever going to marry you.”
I opened my mouth and stared at her. I’d always thought we’d gotten along. Before I could think of something to say, she hurried away.
As I walked out of the church, I looked for Jacques, but couldn’t see him anywhere. It was then I saw my grandmother had come after all.
I couldn’t keep the smile from my face and I hurried to meet her. I gave her a big hug.
“Thanks for coming. I didn’t think you were going to.”
“I just wanted to make sure he was really gone,” she said with a straight face, totally unashamed of her words.
I looked around, horrified, before I shushed her. Thankfully, no one had heard.
Then she asked. “Now, will I be allowed to go to the grave so I can see him put into the ground?”
“No, not if you have that attitude.”
Her eyebrows shot up and nearly reached the top of her platinum blonde wig. “I’ll behave.”
“Promise?”
She nodded.
“Did you come by taxi?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You can come with us in Steve’s car.”
“You’ve got a new man already? You should’ve seen if you could exist by yourself for once. You go from one man to another. It’s a shame. You don’t need them, you know. You’re a smart girl. I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.” Granny pursed her pink lips in disapproval.
When she’d finally finished her rant, I said, “Granny, Steve is Abbie’s boyfriend. You remember Abbie, don’t you?”
“Oh. Yes. She’s a nice girl.”
“You’re not thinking of doing spells or anything at the grave site are you?”
A smile tugged at the sides of her lips. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You know you would.” I folded my arms and stared at her.
She smiled. “I won’t, then. Just for you I’ll behave.”
“I’ll never forgive you if you do anything.”
“I won’t,” she said. “Destiny, there was a man here right over there.” She pointed to where Jacques had been sitting. “Do you know who he was?”
My heart beat fast and I tried to steady my breathing. “There are hundreds of people here and I barely know any of them.”
I was sure she knew who he was and exactly what he was.
“He looked familiar. Don’t worry, it will come to me.”
“Ready to go?” asked a voice from behind me.
I turned around, relieved to see Abbie.
Chapter 18
After the funeral, my grandmother talked me into going back to her place. As soon as I walked into her house, she asked me if I was still interested in spells and how to become a witch.
“You told me I’m already a witch.”
“You’re not until you acknowledge you are. Don’t you want things to always work out for you? Don’t you want to meet the right man?”
I giggled. “You said men are obsolete.”
Granny laughed. “You always see right through me. I was just saying that to see if you’re really interested in spells or not. I might have mentioned this to you before, but eighty percent of the spells I do are for people wanting to find love. If it weren’t for love, I’d be out of business and in the poorhouse and that means living with your mother or Flora. If it weren’t for love we wouldn’t be standing here in this house right now.”
She had a worldwide client base. Many famous people and even royals had paid her for her potions and spells.
“You must be exhausted after this terrible day.” Granny sighed. “I suppose it can’t be easy for you seeing the man you love be put in a box and placed in the ground.”
“That wasn’t so bad. It was worse finding him on the floor of my apartment. I’ll never forget that dreadful feeling and the heart-sinking moment when I knew he was dead.” I stared at Granny, wondering if she’d ever loved anybody. She never spoke about the man who’d fathered her two daughters. Neither had anyone mentioned whether they’d been married. Even my mother had nothing to tell me about my grandfather.
“It will be the full moon soon.”
“And why is that so important?” I asked. My grandmother had never mentioned the full moon before in any detail, just in passing comments. “Mom said the spells work extra well when they’re done on a full moon. Is that why?”
“Think of it like two rooms that are separated by a black curtain. During the full moon, that curtain is pulled aside and only a sheer curtain is left remaining. You can look through the curtain into the other room.”
“What’s in the other room?”
“Other worlds, Destiny, other worlds. We are just a particle of dust in the scheme of the universe. There are so many universes we can’t begin to comprehend. Many exist within our own in different times and different spaces. Right here where we are. We don’t have to get in a rocket ship and fly to other worlds—they’re right here in front of our face.” She put her hand in front of her nose to demonstrate.
“If we can’t begin to comprehend then why look?” I asked.
She shook her head at me. “You are your father’s daughter, that is for certain.”
I frowned, not liking to remember the one encounter I’d had with my father.
“You might not be curious about these things, Destiny, but that dreadful fiancé of yours was.”
I jerked my head up. “What do you mean?”
“He swore me to silence and I kept quiet, but now he’s dead promises no longer count.”
“Tell me what you mean, Granny? Was he worried he was marrying a witch? Is that it? Did he ask come here asking you questions about me?”
“He came here asking questions all right. Two or three times he came without even making a proper appointment.”
“I can’t believe that. Don didn’t believe in anything.”
Granny shook her head. “He crossed the line.”
“Crossed the line in what?”
“Come. I’ll show you.”
I followed her into the spell room.
She clapped her hands and turned in a full circle. I stayed back in case she was calling on some power. Her long bony finger pointed at her jars and specimen bottles. “Some of these have taken me years to collate and collect. Do you know how hard it was for me to source the wing of a dead jewfish bird?”
Resisting the urge to ask what that was, and why she needed the wing, I shook my head.
“And my prize.” She walked over and picked up the jar of shifter remains.
I stopped breathing and felt I was going to be sick.
She picked it off the shelf and held it up to the light. “He did something with this.” Her voice reverberated around the room, echoing through my head.
Was this a test? Did she really know that I, and not Don, had interfered with the remains? Was she acting right now?
“Granny, why did he come here?”
“He had an extraordinary interest in the shifter I slayed.”
I gasped. Was she making it up? I thought back and was certain I’d never told him that story. I must have, though. He knew what my grandmother did for a living, but he’d never commented on it or shown interest. I shook my head. “I never told him about it.”
“Didn’t
you?” She seemed genuinely surprised.
“No. He didn’t believe in anything so why would I tell him?” I kept quiet about the fact I had also thought it nonsense at the time.
She stared at the jar of shifter remains in her hands. “I wonder how he heard about it, then. He knew. You want to know how I knew?”
“How?”
“There was a chip in the jar. I never use jars with chips because they’re damaged and not perfect. I like things to be perfect. It’s disrespectful to use jars with chips. This is the only glass I have with a chip out of it, so he must’ve taken it with him and taken some of the remains.”
I thought back to when I cleaned the floor after I’d cut my finger. There had been no chip to be found.
She shook her head and in doing so shook some strands of blonde hair loose from the heavy lacquer she used on the wig. “Anyway, he took some of my prize.”
I remained silent.
“If someone crosses me they don’t live to do it twice.” She placed the jar back on the shelf. When she turned around, she stared at me.
“Granny, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’m just saying what I said. I didn’t kill him with my own hands.”
“How do you know it was him who chipped the bottle and did the other thing?”
“It couldn’t have been anybody else. No one else comes in here.”
I backed away. Granny had as good as admitted to poisoning him. Or did she cast a spell on him? “You killed him?”
“I told you I didn’t physically do it, but there’s nothing like revenge.”
“I was going to marry him.”
“Then you’ve been saved because your marriage wouldn’t have worked and it would’ve caused you great pain and anguish.”
She stared at me with such a look of evil that I turned and hurried out of her house, grabbing my bag on the way. Jacques had been right about her. This wasn’t the grandmother I knew.
I wanted to run but I was wearing ridiculous high heels and a tight black dress. All I could do was hobble up the street feeling alone and betrayed. I always thought my family would be there for me, but now I didn’t know what to think. If Granny had killed Don for touching her shifter remains, would she have done the same to me? She’d looked so evil when she’d been talking about it.
Would my mother be on Granny’s side? She had never liked Don, so I didn’t know. There was a definite divide now since I was a shifter and my family weren’t. I belonged in a pack with people—well, shifters—like myself.
The only sensible thing I could do was call Jacques. I was around the corner from Granny’s house when I called him and he told me he’d be there in fifteen minutes.
All the while, I hoped Granny wouldn’t come out and find me. I took off my shoes and stood on the grass to sooth my aching feet.
While I waited, I had flashbacks of Don being mean and horrible. I didn’t know why I had put up with it. I kept hoping he’d change and believed he would because he had improved slightly. Sometimes he was so loving and kind, but those times had become few. The moment he had physically abused me I knew it was over. I looked down at the engagement ring I had worn for the funeral, took it off, and put it in the bottom of my bag. I would’ve thrown it away, but figured I should give it back to his family so they could sell it or do whatever they wanted with it.
I felt so guilty Don had died for something I had done. Granny had taken a man’s life—I still couldn’t believe it. By the time I saw Jacques’ car at the end of the street, I was in more of a mess than I’d been when I’d called him.
I sniffed and wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. He turned his car around with a screech of tires to pull up next to me.
Wasting no time, I slid into the car.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking over at me.
I shook my head, unable to speak. Then I forced myself to say, “Just drive.”
The car roared into action. I had no idea where he was taking me and neither did I care. Maybe I was only safe with him now. It certainly felt that way. I didn’t know what to expect and how to behave now I was a shifter. I had to learn the rules if I was to fit in.
He stopped the car after we’d been driving for a while and looked over at me. “Feeling better?”
I nodded and sniffed a little, and then I told him everything my grandmother had said.
He opened his car door and I saw we were at a diner.
“You’ll feel better with something in your stomach.”
“But aren’t you shocked?”
Before I could finish speaking, he was around my side of the car opening my door. I stepped out.
“I’m not shocked at all. I told you this,” he said, frowning.
I wiped tears from my eyes. “But he was innocent. It’s all my fault.”
“Well, just as well she thought it was him.”
“Do you think my grandmother would’ve done the same to me—her own flesh and blood?”
“Well, the thing is, Destiny, you aren’t her flesh and blood any more.” He strode to the entrance of the diner with his arm through mine.
We set down at a table in the back and he ordered the food. My head was still in a muddle and I could barely think straight. I started to think about the fingerprints on the bottle that was in my apartment.
“I don’t think I told you but the detective showed me the bottle the poison was in. It was a glass bottle, and now that I think about it, it could have been one of Granny’s. I wonder if they thought they were my fingerprints because they were similar to mine?”
“You shouldn’t keep having troublesome thoughts.”
“Well, why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday you find your grandmother has killed your fiancé.”
“Your marriage wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
Why did everyone keep saying that? “Regardless, he was a human being. He didn’t deserve to die.”
“It seems your grandmother thought he did.”
“Well, I’m not certain if she’s responsible, but if she is then it’s all my fault. Don would’ve only been there to make sure I wasn’t involved in witchcraft. I can’t think of any other reason he’d go to my grandmother’s. I wonder if I should tell the police.”
“Tell them what?” He stared at me “You’d turn in your own grandmother?”
“How long will it be before they catch up with her and find out they were her fingerprints on the bottle?”
“Probably never. She said she didn’t physically do it, so if you go to the police with that story, they’ll lock you up and not in a jail.” He smiled.
“What’s funny?”
“Your grandmother doesn’t need to poison him to kill him. She’s got all those potions and she’s a powerful witch.”
“Do you think someone different poisoned him?”
“Absolutely.”
I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or he just said that to try and calm me down. Either way, I felt a bit better.
“Now,” he said, “I’m taking you back to my house.”
“To the woods?”
He nodded and then kept quiet while the waitress placed our orders in front of us. I looked down at the plate, grateful for food. “I keep getting one shock after another.” I looked up at him. “You’re not working today?”
“I was until I got your frantic call.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked over at me and smiled. “I’m not. You’re a good distraction. All I had was the one meeting today and I’ll catch up with them another time. It wasn’t important.”
I tried to figure out whether being a distraction really was a good thing. I guess I could’ve been a nuisance instead—that would be worse.
“Do you want to collect your things from your friend’s house?”
“What for?”
“I’m taking charge of you for a few days. It’s the full moon coming up and I think you need to be somewhere your grandmot
her can’t find you when she realizes she’s made a mistake.”
“Do you think she will?”
“It’s only a matter of time.”
I didn’t have any choice but to go with him, so I agreed. The thing was, I wasn’t just agreeing out of necessity—I wanted to go, needed to go. I had to get away and clear my head and figure out who my grandmother really was if she could so cold-heartedly kill someone who had been important to me. She might not have done it with her own hands, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been involved. I looked up to see Jacques staring at me.
He reached across the table and held my hand. Immediately I felt safe and knew no harm would come to me while he was close by. No words were spoken; the only words that passed between us were the ones he was saying with his eyes. He always told me I was safe with him and that’s how I felt. A part of me hoped we’d grow even closer over the next few days.
Chapter 19
When the house came into view, it wasn’t what I’d expected.
“Wow! It’s huge.”
He laughed. “Some call it The Manor. I prefer to refer to the entire property as ‘the compound.’”
“I can see why.” The house was three stories tall and the architecture was modern with clean lines and a slightly tilted roof on one side of the building. Glass windows covered the entire top floor—the part I could see, anyway.
We drove through huge gates and I was nervous when he kept driving toward a massively tall boulder without braking. Immediately I relaxed when, just like in the movies, the front of the boulder moved into the ground and we drove in. When the car stopped, the door came back up and lights inside the boulder came on.
“We have reached our destination,” Jacques said, sounding like a GPS.
“This is like something out of a James Bond movie. I can’t believe it.”
He chuckled.
The best part of being a billionaire must be having things exactly how you imagine them. What was the point of having money and not using it? The fake rock garage must’ve cost a fortune, but if that was what Jacques wanted, why not?