Blessedly Bound

by Lucretia Stanhope

  She wasn't sure how long they drove when they stopped.

  He walked around and opened her door. “Get out,” he said, and yanked her arm.

  She got out and stood on shaky legs. “Where are we?”

  “End of the road, little witch.”

  “Run, now,” Lenny said.

  His words barely registered when she felt a rag over her mouth and blackness washed over her.

  When her eyes opened again, she was looking at a wooded area. She tried to move but couldn't and struggled against restraints. Tied to a tree. Dear god, he was going to burn her alive too, just like Lizzy. Did he know they were witches? For real? She could smell a strong odor.

  Gasoline.

  “Uncle Curtis,” she screamed. “I'm your niece, please.”

  “Now you will burn, witch,” he said, and laughed a crazed laugh.

  She wanted to understand why, wanted to know what had happened between her uncle and grandfather, but first she needed to stay alive. She screamed in her mind for Lewis and felt him wrap her thoughts as the fire lit.

  The flames grew quickly and she was greeted by a familiar scene. She hadn't been pulled in the past before, she had been seeing the future, seeing her own death. She had to do something now before the fire took her away to blackness.

  Her mind drifted to the lessons she had with water, and started pulling from below. She didn't have time to direct it as the heat started to push at her. She pulled, imagining it pool at her feet and wrapping around her.

  There was cursing and she felt a wet splash on her. It wasn't water, it was more gasoline. The smell made her sick and she started to gag. If he lit that now she was done.

  “Lewis!” She summoned him with her full intent. She knew she needed his power boost to hold the water and fend off the flames.

  She felt as he neared, perched above her and she pulled again, this time causing a flood of water. She saw Lenny manipulating things and blowing out the lighter each time Curtis struck it.

  “Please, Curtis, don't,” she begged.

  “Witch, monster.” He dropped his lighter. He reached down and pulled his gun, his finger flicked the safety off.

  She closed her eyes and imagined the gun red, melting, hot. It was the first thing that came to her mind.

  He dropped the gun, his hand throbbing in pain and started toward her.

  Gwen needed free, she called up vines, calling on earth elements for the first time. The vines crawled under her bindings and tore them free. She covered herself in water and stepped through the flames.

  Curtis looked at her, dumbfounded. “My father destroyed the witch. William should have never brought more witches into our lives.” He started toward Gwen, his eyes insane with hate.

  Gwen realized what he was saying. His father, the scene of the murder when the two boys were orphaned. He killed their mother because she was a witch.

  Curtis must have some innate power to recognize his own kind, a kind he hated, something that let him sense Lizzy was also a witch.

  “You burned Lizzy.” Gwen saw red hate flash before her eyes. “You took my family.”

  Vines came up from the ground and wrapped around his arms and legs. They jerked him to the ground, flat on his back. Gwen watched as they tugged, and rubbed her fingers together to tighten the grip and pull at his limbs. She heard a pop as his shoulder dislocated.

  His screams filled the air.

  She felt Lewis at her side and opened her eyes to see a wolf quickly clearing the space between the woods and Curtis.

  Lewis reached out, and held her in his arms.

  She pulled back and looked over his shoulder when she heard another scream.

  Curtis was covered in sweat.

  She pushed out of Lewis’ arms and twisted her hand again.

  “Don’t,” Lewis stepped in front of her. “You will never come back from it if you do.”

  She felt her hate tug at her to let the vines rip him apart. “He killed her, he killed them both.”

  Sebastian walked over and looked at her with serious eyes.

  Her eyes flicked to him. “I can’t let him live.”

  “You can, your heart demands you do. I will take him and I will make him suffer.” Sebastian left her with Lewis and walked over to Curtis.

  Lewis reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Let him do it.”

  “No, he's right, my heart says no. Curtis is my uncle. My only family.” She let her attention turn to Sebastian. “Stop, don’t.”

  Sebastian turned to her voice, his snarl now just a tight-lipped frown. Could he let this man who had killed Lizzy and tried to kill Gwen breathe one more breath, even if it was her wish that he did? His rage boiled under the surface as he tried to control it.

  She stepped away from Lewis, walking toward Sebastian, her eyes locked on his. “Mi bestia, por favor, no.”

  Lewis was behind her, edging closer, feeling the tension in the air easing.

  Sebastian reached down, snatched Curtis up by one arm, and drug him to the cruiser. The door was still opened and he tossed him in the back before slamming it shut.

  He walked a few steps back to Lewis and Gwen, laying his hands on her. She felt his magic rush over her. She tried to step back but he pulled her close.

  He needed to know that no part of her was hurt.

  “I'm fine. Sebastian, I am fine.”

  He ignored her as his hands searched for any injuries. While he searched, his eyes narrowed at Lewis. Lewis should have been there faster, should have done more. Curtis shouldn't have been standing by the time he got there.

  When he felt the knot on her head, he took in a breath and exhaled sharply. “You are not fine.”

  She felt warmth replacing the pain in the back of her head.

  When he was sure that was the only injury that needed his attention, he pulled her to him and wrapped her protectively in his arms. His eyes met with Lewis again. “You comfort her while I finish with this unpleasant monster.”

  “No, he is…” Gwen started to say.

  “He killed Lizzy. He had the same in mind for you,” Sebastian said.

  Gwen nodded. “Justice is not to be had by killing him.”

  “It would be a start,” Sebastian said.

  “I agree,” Lenny said, his form faint and off to the right.

  “He's right,” Lewis said. “The lunatic was seconds from burning you alive.”

  “No, Lizzy wouldn't want blind vengeance. We don't even know why he hated witches.”

  Sebastian's eyes flashed black as he felt rage welling up again. “I don't care why. He was going to burn you alive. Leave me with him. I will make sure he feels regret in his black heart.”

  “No, I am calling the police,” she said. “Please Sebastian. Leave this.”

  Sebastian paced a few steps away and made a sound that startled both Lewis and Gwen, it was a cross between a howl and a scream, pure anger, agony, sadness all wrapped in one.

  Gwen hugged tight to Lewis as she felt the weight of the night and all that happened come crashing down.

  “Give me a boost, this is too much for him.” she said.

  Lewis looked at her concerned, what she had intended to do was evident, but he wasn't sure she was ready to take on such emotions. Regardless, he infused her with everything he had and shifted so that he had more to give.

  Sebastian felt her step closer, he felt her hands on him, felt her magic. He turned to look at her, his eyes black as rage washed over him. He started to shake his head no, but she gripped him tight on his wrist with one hand and held her other hand toward the open sky.

  Before he could take his arm away, he felt his rage being sucked from him. For a second he panicked, thinking she would drown in his anger, but he saw a white streaking light flowing from her open hand. It sparked and popped with electricity and cracked like thunder as it was released.

  His eyes returned to blue, his mind calmed, and she let go, falling into his arms. He held her close to him, not
wanting to ever let her go again.

  Lewis walked over, standing beside them. “We need to do something with him.”

  Sebastian called the police and waited with Gwen while Lewis sat perched overhead.

  Curtis confessed to everything.

  Gwen assumed he was terrified either of her or Sebastian, or both, as she listened to him speak with a shaken voice. When she looked closer, she saw what had Curtis shaking. Lenny was beside him, a dark, menacing form, not the friendly vision she had of him. She thought that was good for Lenny to have his own justice for the time he lost. Her and Sebastian would release Lenny from the summons after his own death and wrongs were righted.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “W hat are you doing here, Sheriff Dillon?” Gwen asked as she walked out the prison toward her truck.

  Dillon tipped his hat and smiled, winking at her with his sharp green eyes. It was his usual greeting. “Monday, always seems some paperwork or other such unpleasant task awaits me on Mondays. What about you, any joy this week?”

  “No,” she said and looked down at her sneakers.

  She came every week, Monday and Friday, and every week Curtis refused to see her. She came anyway, he needed money added to his commissary funds and she felt one day he would want to see her. They were the only family each other had left.

  “Chin up. Frowns don't suit that pretty face. Meet me at Mel's in an hour or so and I'll buy you some pie. Pie always makes things better.” He smiled again, this time the dimple on his right cheek showing.

  “You like pie. I like cake.”

  “Pie and cake, it is. See you soon,” he said, and walked off.

  She watched him walk away.

  He was initially sent as a temporary sheriff, but fell in love with the town as she had. Since he took over as sheriff they had become friends of sorts, having an instant common ground as two city kids who were now living in a small town, but that was all it was.

  They often met for meals and conversation at Mel's. All the yartists had read much more into things, but Gwen was still struggling to place where her heart belonged.

  Lewis took a part of it when he left. She knew she would always love him and there were still times where just the sight of a bird flying overhead would make her cry.

  When the nights felt long she was often tempted to call to him, but each time she remembered him asking her only to call if she really needed him. While she really wanted him at times, need was still something she struggled to define.

  There was a part of her heart that also belonged fully to Sebastian, even though they had both pulled back from that and had been tiptoeing around anything that might be even remotely intimate. They each had their own reasons for not exploring the deeper connection they seemed to have from the start, but that didn't change the fact that it was there. When the conversations ended, the painting stopped, and the room went silent, they always struggled to stay out of each other’s arms, thoughts, and hearts.

  She knew how he felt, it was in each painting he finished. He painted her as if she were a goddess. Her favorite painting, the first one he did, was hung in the main room above the fireplace. It was her in the snow, trees in the background with snow tipped branches. There were small pearls of white throughout her hair, and at her side was a beautiful blue eyed wolf.

  “Y ou okay sweetie?” Mel asked, drawing Gwen's thoughts away from Sebastian and Lewis.

  “Oh sure, I'm waiting on Dillon. Can I get a coffee?”

  Mel went to get her a coffee and Trisha walked over, hugging her and startling her at the same time. As soon as Mike was released, she had returned to her flamboyant happy self.

  “How are you?” Gwen asked.

  “Good, I've been struggling on the new pattern. Did you have any problems with the stitches slipping off?”

  Gwen pursed her lips together. “I did. I switched to plastic needles, they grip that yarn better.”

  “Oh, I never even thought of that. I have some too. Thanks. Mike wants to see you too. He says you are helping with something on his family tree stuff and he had something for you to see.”

  “Of course, I'll call him after I eat,” Gwen smiled as she walked away.

  Things with her and Mike had smoothed out once he was cleared and his mom explained to him Gwen had been the reason for that. She wouldn't exactly say they were friends, and the older librarian lady still said her name like it was a dirty word, but she at least felt okay enough around them to go get books.

  Dillon walked in, took his hat off, and ran his fingers through his curly blonde hair as he walked over and sat across from her.

  “Sorry, that took longer than usual,” he said.

  Mel came over and they ordered pie and cake. “You kids should eat real food too,” she said as she walked away.

  “Small towns, it's the equivalent of having twenty mothers always watching over you,” Gwen said and sipped her coffee.

  “Yeah, I wouldn't trade it for a city with a million strangers always watching over you though.”

  “No, me either.”

  “Speaking of small towns and gossip, did you ever get a handyman to help you around that place?”

  She laughed. “I just started looking. Wow gossip spreads fast. Maybe that will work in my favor. Mostly I want someone to help with heavy chores. I enjoy doing the housework and yard-work.”

  “Well I may know someone. Kid of one of the men. I say kid but he is probably over twenty. I'll give him your cell if you want.”

  “Sure, thanks.”

  They both stopped gabbing while they made fast work of the desserts.

  Dillon's radio crackled and came to life. A voice came over, calling him back to work.

  “See you soon I hope,” he said, walking over to settle their bill, and flipping his hat on as he walked out.

  Gwen spent the rest of the day knitting in her recliner. Since it was Monday she wasn't surprised to feel Sebastian come in. He always came by on Monday's to see how it went, and make sure she wasn't too sad or disappointed. The shawl was resting on the back of her chair, she hadn't realized it had gone that late as her mind drifted.

  “It's always nice to see you relaxing.” He walked into her craft room.

  “It is always nice to see you,” she said, and watched him walk over. His gracefulness still captivated her.

  He could tell by her lack of excitement that Curtis had refused her again. “I'm sorry.”

  “Yeah well, one day he'll come around.”

  Sebastian was never sure how he should feel about that. He was glad the psycho hadn't wanted to see her, but on the other hand he was unhappy that it made her sad. That, and the continued absence of Lewis played heavy on her heart.

  “It's stunning at the lake tonight. You want to go for a walk?”

  She agreed, pulled on her shawl, and they made their way to the lake.

  There was never a time they had been there that she left feeling sad. They both stood silently, watching the moonlight dance on the water. It seemed like it was so far away from the first time they came there together. This had become their place.

  She could feel him relax, feel his love, feel the perfection of the connection they had. Being with him was easy. Once they stopped trying to fight the flow, it had become a natural feeling that she missed during the day. He made her feel whole.

  “You complete me too, beauty.”

  She leaned to him, and rested her head on his arm. Had they been anywhere but the lake, this would be the time one of them pulled back.

  Instead, he put his arm around her and tucked her close at his side.

  She felt his uncertainty start to drift in as it did whenever they found peace together.

  “We'll figure it out, together.” She nuzzled against him and enjoyed the feel of his magic blanket as it wrapped around them.

  The end.

  LUCRETIA STANHOPE is the author of a lot of things, about a lot of things, hopefully fascinating to read things. She lives in a small
town in Kansas. It’s the kind of town you are afraid to be stranded in after dark, in case the creepy locals are actually vampires or satanic corn deity worshipers. Yes, there are cornfields all around the town. Seriously, that part is true. There is also a not so used rail station, really! And tons of creepy empty brick buildings, which would be moody fodder, if she would leave the house.

  Her hobbies include making creative excuses not to leave the house, ever, not even to shop. That is what the internet and mail service is for. She also likes to crochet, and by likes, I mean she has a room devoted solely to yarn, and a bum shoulder that is referred to as her ‘crochet injury of 2014.’

  Occasionally, pulling her from writing, or talking to her imaginary friends, it’s all the same, are four rescue mutts, and a very fat gray cat that thinks he is a dog. He’s big enough to be a dog but more demanding, and he meow’s more than the other dogs. Her husband has figured out it is best just to let her write, which is why they are still married, and he hasn’t been offered to corn deities or the creepy neighbors.