by Fine, Clara
“Let Cam go,” Grandma said.
“Hm… No.” The woman said icily. “Now… walk.”
Grandma walked. She walked to the stairs and hesitated before starting to climb down.
“You too brat, let’s walk.”
Now that the woman wanted her to walk, Cam was suddenly able to move. Her captor marched her to the top of the stairs, and Cam could see her grandmother, Brent and Caro assembled at the bottom. There was a mirror behind them and in it Cam caught her first glimpse of her captor. She was very old, perhaps nearing eighty. She was tall and gaunt, with deep wrinkles and sagging jowls. But her eyes had a mean gleam and she looked as alert as a woman half her age.
Brent’s jaw dropped. “Aunt Julia?”
“Hello nephew.”
“What are you doing?” Brent was enraged. “What are you thinking? Let go of Cam immediately!”
“I don’t know who you think she is,” Caro said as she squinted up at the woman, “but her name isn’t Julia.”
“It’s Pauline,” Grandma finished.
“What?” Cam and Brent said in unison.
“Pauline Pledeat— Kat Varennes’ childhood mentor from back in New Orleans.” Grandma said. “I remember you.”
“Taught her everything she knew,” the woman said as she and Cam began slowly walking down the stairs. “Unfortunately for you.” She added to Daphne and Caro. “I’m surprised you remember. I only came to this uncultured little county once to visit Kat. Several years before you murdered her. Back up!” she added as she and Cam moved closer. “Back into the drawing room.”
“Do as she says,” Grandma said, grabbing Brent’s shoulder when he tensed angrily. “See what she has around Cam’s throat? It could kill her in an instant.”
“What are you doing here?” Caro asked as they all slowly backed towards the drawing room.
“Isn’t it obvious?” The woman asked, fingering the cord at Cam’s throat. “I’m here to make you suffer and then kill you. Revenge is something you understand, isn’t it?”
“Why now?” Grandma asked.
“That’s my business,” Pauline snapped. Cam blinked. As she and Pauline walked, she could feel the strangest sensation running up and down her spine. It was an odd sort of warmth that seemed to be emanating from her pocket.
Of course, Cam remembered suddenly. She had that charm, one of the most powerful Caro and Grandma had ever made, in her right pocket. It was steadily working away at the cord around Cam’s neck, weakening the hold that it had over her. Eventually, it might dissolve the rope’s power entirely.
Thank God for small favors, Cam thought, meeting her grandmother’s eyes and wondering if the old woman could sense the power of the cord weakening.
Grandma’s eyes gave nothing away, but she turned to glare at Brent. “And you had no idea that your aunt was a powerful rootworker?”
“I….” For once, Brent seemed to be lost for words.
“Oh, poor boy,” the woman said mockingly. “Actually…. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Your Great-Aunt Julia died in February of 1851.”
They were all in the drawing room by then, and Pauline gestured for the three of them to sit down while they digested her latest announcement.
“You’re not my grandmother’s sister,” Brent said finally.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“Don’t be,” he said coldly, “it’s a relief.” He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Cam.
“How rude,” Pauline said disapprovingly. “No— I knew that I would be going up against several rootworkers, all of them younger than me, so I looked for a way to sneak in. That was when I found out about your dear brother purchasing this lovely plantation— just a short distance from Cypress Hall.”
“So you decided to impersonate my dead aunt.” Brent filled in.
“You didn’t know that she was dead because your grandmother didn’t know she was dead— they hadn’t spoken in years. Of course, all it took was a little scrying to find that out, and voila! I dressed myself in rags and threw myself upon your charity. Oh, don’t look so put out, nephew.” As Pauline was speaking, Cam tried to focus on the warm protective conjure that was spreading through her veins. The cord’s hold on her was almost gone, and she probably had a minute more at most before she could free herself from Pauline. As she was studying her surroundings, something drifted through the air in front of her and landed on her hand. Looking down, Cam blinked at the sight of a single silver hair resting on her palm.
What luck. It had to be one of Pauline’s hairs, what with the way the woman was leaning over her. Among their many items of conjure Caro and Grandma had brought several poppets. The hair would hopefully be enough to anchor one of the poppets to Pauline, and then they could curse her easily. Licking her lips, Cam surreptitiously pinched the hair between her thumb and forefinger. She held it tightly and waited for the right moment.
“Of course, I had something a little more spectacular planned for this evening,” Pauline admitted, “but then you eager little devils had to come over early and get everything started before dusk. But I’ve always said that the root of genius is adaptability, and so here we are.”
“Why did you try to drown me?” Cam asked quickly, hoping to stall the woman. She was nearly free of the thing around her neck. Any minute now she would be able to yank it off.
“Well, that wasn’t part of the plan either,” Pauline admitted. “But you were coming just a little too close to home, and like I said, I had something special planned. But then Brent had to go and save your life… and I really don’t understand what he sees in you.” She studied Cam critically. “I think you could do better, nephew,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Don’t call me that,” Brent said. But he wasn’t looking at Pauline. He was eying the shotgun that leaned casually against the drawing room armoire.
“Tsk, tsk. Not planning to shoot Auntie, are we?” Pauline leaned down to stroke Cam’s throat just above where the cord bit into her flesh. “For her sake, I hope not.”
Cam grit her teeth and stared down at the hair that she kept wrapped around her finger.
“You two!” Pauline’s voice sharpened. “No talking.” While Pauline was distracted with Brent Caro had murmured something to Grandma, and now they both faced Pauline, shoulders squared. Pauline shifted uneasily. “I think it’s time to begin the show.”
Grandma cleared her throat. “In that case, why don’t you let Cam go now?”
Pauline laughed. “Now why would I do that— she’s the first act.” And with that, she leaned down and seized the ends of the cord as if she was about to pull it tighter.
The room exploded into action.
Brent lunged for Pauline.
Cam reached up and ripped the cord from her neck, catching Pauline by surprise.
Grandma passed a charm to Caro, who cradled it for a moment, murmuring the words of a spell, before tossing it at Pauline.
Cam recognized the charmed item flying through the air as particularly dangerous conjure, and threw herself into Brent, knocking him clear of the charm as it flew in a neat arc straight toward Pauline.
Pauline screamed and dodged it. As the charm bounced harmlessly into the wall behind her, she threw her arms into the air and shouted a curse. Cam could feel the conjure surging through the air toward Grandma. Grandma tried to avoid it, but she tripped over a footstool and the conjure slammed straight into her back, sending her flying across the room. “Grandma!” Cam screamed when her grandmother was thrown against the wall and didn’t move.
Caro retrieved another item from her apron pocket and faced Pauline grimly. Cam glanced down at her own fingers frantically and was relieved to see that the strand of Pauline’s hair was still wrapped around her finger. But to give it to Caro Cam would have to walk directly in front of Pauline.
“Damn,” Cam muttered, but she hadn’t counted on Brent. He had somehow managed to get to his rifle in the chaos, and now he leveled it d
irectly at Pauline, his face as serious as a heart attack. “Hands in the air.”
“Telling your auntie what to do? It’s true what they say— young people don’t have any respect these days.” Cam was torn as Pauline slowly raised her hands in the air. She glanced hesitantly between Brent, who was directly in front of Pauline, and Caro, who was watching with another charm at the ready. Biting her lip and hoping that Pauline didn’t curse Brent in the next minute, Cam darted to Caro’s side.
“Quick!” She said and held out the finger with the hair wrapped around it. She caught sight of her grandmother, still lying by the wall, and panic laced her tone. “Quickly!”
“What am I looking at, child?” Caro squinted at Cam’s finger. “My eyes are old.”
Cam unwound the hair from around her finger. “Get a poppet, quickly!”
Caro’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, very good!”
“Let’s hope it’s not too late,” Cam said, her gaze bouncing back and forth between her unmoving grandmother and Brent.
“Leave it to me,” Caro had a poppet in her hand one instant, and the next she was taking the hair from Cam.
“You don’t want to do this,” Pauline was saying amiably to Brent. “Not over a cheap little chit like that Johnson girl.”
“Don’t move,” Brent said, looking as though he was dying to shoot her then and there.
Pauline’s expression changed in a second, becoming menacing. “No, I mean, you don’t want to do this.” She waved her arm, and Brent’s gun went flying. “Hello!” She called to Caro, “what have you got there?” She raised her arm as if to curse the woman, but Cam grabbed the same footstool her grandmother had tripped over and flung it at the woman. It hit Pauline dead-on, knocking her arm aside before she could harm Caro or keep her from charming the poppet.
“Almost ready?” Cam called to Caro anxiously.
“Almost. Pin… pin… I need a pin.” Caro rummaged around in her apron. “How could I have forgotten a damn pin?”
“So its poppets is it?” Pauline asked, standing up and lurching towards them. “How very conventional of you. I was expecting something a little more creative. What a disappointment—” She broke off with a gasp as Brent clocked her with candlestick. She dropped to her knees, and Brent leaned over her with a pained expression on his face.
“I’ve never actually hit a woman before,” he told Cam, wrinkling his nose.
“And you never will again!” Pauline screamed, waving her hand wildly. Cam clutched her head in terror, but Brent managed to dodge whatever curse Pauline had aimed at him. Cam sighed in relief, and then gasped as she realized what she was clutching. Something sharp and metal was poking into her index finger.
I’m wearing a hairpin. Cam fumbled with her chignon frantically as Pauline rounded on them, fingers crooked with violent intent. “This has been exciting,” Pauline admitted with a deranged gleam in her eye as she approached them.
“Well, if you thought that was exciting, then you’ll love this part.” The voice was Grandma’s and it was thick and powerful with conjure. Pauline was tossed backwards every bit as forcefully as she had thrown Grandma.
With shaking fingers, Cam finally extricated the hairpin from her curls and thrust it at Caro, practically stabbing the woman in her haste. “Would you like the honor?” Caro asked, holding up the poppet.
“Just do it already!” Cam said, half-mad with fear. Pauline was already pulling herself upright and snarling at them. The old woman’s eyes widened at the sight of the poppet in Caro’s hands, and she slumped backwards, her eyes rolling back in her head.
Did she faint? Cam frowned, and then decided that she didn’t care as Caro plunged the pin deep in the belly of the doll.
Pauline didn’t make a sound, didn’t even shiver, as she was stabbed by an invisible blade. Caro pushed the pin in once more for good measure. “Stop!” Cam shouted, bile rising in her throat. Pauline’s eyes were open and vacant.
“She’s dead,” Brent said quietly. He stared down at the body of the woman who had pretended to be his aunt, and Cam could quite read his expression. Then he turned back to Cam. “Are you alright?” He asked with concern.
“I’m fine,” Cam said. “Grandma?” She turned to face her grandmother, who was slowly pulling herself to her feet.
“Still breathing.” The old woman was clutching her elbow with a pained expression, but otherwise she looked well.
“Here’s your hairpin,” Caro offered.
Cam nearly gagged. “No thank you.” She said finally. Caro shrugged and set it down on the arm of Brent’s sofa.
“What is that?” Brent asked, gesturing to the poppet.
“It’s a poppet,” Cam said. “A sort of a doll that’s used for channeling conjure meant for a certain person.”
“I see.” Brent glanced over his shoulder at the wounds in Pauline’s abdomen. “Is that how Kat—”
“Yes.” Cam said quickly.
“I’d better think of some way to explain this,” Brent said, referring to the dead body on his drawing room floor. Caro and Grandma drew nearer, obviously alarmed at the thought of being exposed by Brent. “You don’t need to worry,” Brent told them quickly. “I have no intention of telling anyone anything about this.”
“Good,” Caro said, in a tone of voice that suggested he had made the only smart choice. She and Grandma watched him carry Pauline’s body back to her room. When he was out of sight, they nodded at each other.
“I don’t think he’ll say anything.” Grandma said.
“After what he just watched us do?” Caro snorted. “Unlikely. Anyway, he is crazy about Cam. Did you see the look on his face when Pauline had that cord around her neck?”
“So Pauline was Kat’s mentor?” Cam asked, eager to steer the conversation away from Brent.
“I believe so. Like she said, she only visited once, and we only saw her once or twice. But when you meet a rootworker that powerful, you don’t forget her.” Grandma frowned. “I don’t understand her timing though. What made her come back now?”
“I don’t know. I’m just glad we got here in time to stop her from doing whatever she had planned for the black moon,” Caro said. “She wasn’t at full strength yet. We were very fortunate.”
“Clearly,” Grandma said, wincing as she rubbed her elbow, “your idea of fortunate differs substantially from mine.”
“It could have been a lot worse.”
“Do you think Cam and I could have a minute alone?” Brent asked. He had returned downstairs and was standing on the bottom step.
Grandma eyed him suspiciously, and then sighed. “Why not? Our work here is done, and I need to get this elbow bandaged. Let’s go.”
“And leave her here without a chaperone? Elizabeth wouldn’t like it,” Caro pointed out.
“Well, that settles it,” Grandma said with her usual contrariness where Aunt Beth was concerned. “I’ll see you at home, Cam.”
“Goodbye,” Cam said. She was fixing her skirts and smoothing the crumpled satin when she felt something tumble out of her pocket.
“What is that?” Grandma stared at the doll on the floor, her eyes widening as she recognized it. “Cam, why do you have Brent’s poppet?”
For a woman who was usually exceptionally good at keeping secrets, Grandma really had put her foot in it this time, Cam thought as Brent whirled around to stare at the doll where it had fallen on the floor.
“My poppet?” He asked, a slightly dangerous expression appearing on his face. “Mine?”
Chapter Fifteen
“It’s not what you think,” Cam said the minute that Caro and Grandma had left them alone.
“How can you say that?” Brent asked her. “I don’t even know what I think. How could you know what I’m thinking?”
“They can be used for good things,” Cam said. “For strength and health…”
“I’m already strong and healthy.” Brent waved her words away and stepped closer, staring down at her with his arms crossed.
It felt like he was staring into her soul. “What was it for, Cam?”
Lord, she didn’t have the heart to tell him another lie… assuming that she could even think of one. “It was a precaution,” she said finally, quietly.
“A precaution in case of what?” Brent said, with more fury in each syllable than Cam had ever heard from him before. “In case I tried to hurt you? In case I tried to kill you? Do you know me at all, Cam?”
“I didn’t think you would.” Cam protested.
“You didn’t think?” Brent was close to shouting. “Don’t you know? What about now, Cam, hm? Am I a danger to anyone now?”
Cam took a quick step backwards and braced herself against the back of the sofa. “Brent…”
“What?” he all but snarled. “What? I’ve trusted you for a long time, Cam. When are you going to return the favor?”
“You don’t understand,” Cam yelled finally, losing her temper. “It’s not a matter of who I trust! I wasn’t the one whose life was at stake. The choice wasn’t mine. Do you really think if the choice had been mine I would have made that horrible little thing? Do you think I liked doing that? But it didn’t matter. It was my family’s secret, not mine. People can be fooled, Brent,” Cam said, her tone changing, becoming almost bitter. “Hell, that’s how people are fooled. People can only trick you if you trust them.”
“Trick you?” Brent said. “Is that what you think I’ve been trying to do?”
“No!” Cam said emphatically, “but that doesn’t matter. Just because you trust someone doesn’t mean you should. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean they won’t hurt you or leave you.”
“Do you love me?” Brent asked suddenly, explosively.
For a moment Cam could just stare at him, and she knew that the answer had to be in her eyes, but then her old instinct to protect herself reared its head. “Not at the moment,” she snapped.
“Well, that’s a shame,” he snapped back, “because I still love you.”
Cam and Brent were still glaring at each other when the drawing room door creaked open. They both startled and Brent stepped protectively in front of Cam, but when he saw who it was his jaw dropped. “Hattie!” He said with relief. “You’re out of bed! My God, I with John were here to see this. Did we wake you?” A wide smile lit his face. “How do you feel?”