The Unlocked Legacy

by Lucy True

  Most of the frowns deepened, but one woman, a little to her left, smiled before mastering her expression back into one of finger-wagging censure. At least one of them had a heart. Still, it did little to alleviate the tension weighing down on Burgundy. Every moment of this charade fueled the resentment thrumming deep inside her.

  “Why did you make that choice?”

  “Seriously? You’re questioning my life choices?” Burgundy pressed her hands to her chest. “Look, I’d love to pin this on the whole abandoned-as-a-child thing, but here’s the deal: Aunt Iris didn’t just raise me to be a witch. She raised me to be an independent woman and think for myself. At least, most of the time, but you don’t want to blame her for rearing me or my mother for walking out on me, do you? You want to find fault with me. Fine. Do that. But remember, I came in here to give you what you wanted and you’re the ones making this hard. Not me.”

  Behind her, she heard Iris groan. Heck, she could practically picture the facepalm that followed the noise. Fine. She was being rude. But these people? The nerve of them, asking her to explain her adult choices!

  “And who are these parents who abandoned you?” The man’s voice sounded full of something Burgundy couldn’t quite put her finger on. Spittle and contempt, maybe. And a tinge of satisfaction, as if he’d managed to trap her.

  Because, shit, he had. She had to admit the truth of who her parents were. How was she going to get out of that confession? One word at a time, she supposed.

  “My mother is someone you should know at least somewhat. Her name is Lily Bloom and she’s one of your Finders.”

  Now the man smiled for the first time since the proceedings began. But it wasn’t a friendly expression. Oh, no. It was a malicious curving of his lips, the kind of tight smile that told her he was going to enjoy this.

  To her credit, Lily didn’t look at all shaken. She simply stood there, hands clasped behind her, staring straight ahead, expressionless.

  If there was ever a moment to be my mom, now’s the time.

  “And who is your father?”

  Burgundy snuck another look out of her peripheral vision at her mother. The woman remained stone-faced and silent. No help there. Was she afraid of the old man or just that damn selfish?

  Sucking in a deep breath did little to calm the nerves that now skittered across her skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Burgundy curled her fingers against her palms so hard, her nails cut into her flesh. On trial, like a common criminal, in front of the woman who claimed to want to protect her and the one who’d brought her into this world. Sisters. Aunt and mother, but not her allies.

  The frustration she’d vented at Aunt Iris time and again, and then regretted, came flooding back, heating her from head to toe. No regrets this time. Two could play this cat and mouse game. Only one could win.

  “My father isn’t listed on my birth certificate.”

  The old witch’s brow furrowed, that hairy facial caterpillar forming again. Not what he’d been expecting to hear, eh? Burgundy couldn’t help but snort out an exhalation.

  “What is his name, young woman?”

  “How am I supposed to know that? No one ever recorded it. Check my birth certificate.” Truth. Burgundy had seen it for herself three months ago when Cian Black showed up in Rock Grove, bringing with him a world of chaos. Did she doubt that he was her father, as he said he was?

  Not at all.

  But would she admit it to these people?

  Never.

  The old man leaned over and conferred with the members on either side of him. Then he crooked his finger at the man in the black robe who still hovered by the door. After a whispered exchange, the man in the robe disappeared.

  “We will verify the truth of this statement,” the old man announced. “I hereby call a five minute recess.”

  Murmurs rose as the members of the Council turned toward one another. Burgundy took two steps back, her entire body still radiating heat. A hand fell on her shoulder and she whirled around to face the owner of it.

  “Why did you have to make this more difficult than it needed to be?” Iris whispered.

  “Me? They’re the ones putting me on trial! You said all I had to do was come in and declare a path. You never told me about any of this.” She waved at the desk and witches behind her.

  Iris closed her eyes, pain coloring her features. “Silas Bloom is not one to be trifled with, Burgundy.”

  “So that is the Bloom guy? I have to say, I can see the resemblance now. Stubborn, kind of a jerk... shall I go on?”

  “No.” Iris blinked and then placed her other hand on Burgundy’s shoulder, as well. “Please try to remember he’s mine and your mother’s father, your grandfather, and deserving of respect. Trust me when I say, he’d destroy his own daughters if that’s what it took to keep order in our world.”

  The rush of adrenaline that’d made Burgundy so ready to fight drained from her, replaced by a chill. “Do you honestly think your own father would do that to you?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

  “Fine. And you also never thought to tell me about what to expect here, what kind of questions they’d ask and what the protocol was?”

  Her aunt’s glare deepened. “I thought you would know how to answer their questions like a mature adult.”

  “You expect me to be mature when you’ve dragged me in here to be reminded that my mother dumped me and everything you brought me up to believe is a lie? What the hell, Aunt Iris? You set me up to fail here and now I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Thanks a lot.” Burgundy shoved at both hands on her shoulders, pushing her aunt away from her and moving back into the center of the room.

  Protect her? No, Iris had never set out to protect anyone but herself. Even Lily hadn’t been moved by maternal obligation or whatever to come to Burgundy’s defense. She was truly fucking alone.

  “I’m here.” A hand reached out and squeezed hers. Burgundy turned, following the line from the red-manicured fingers, up the slender arm, to the shoulders and neck that led to the Maybelline-perfect face of the last person she’d expected to see.

  “Mrs. Michaels! What are you doing here?”

  The first lady of Rock Grove smiled, flawless as always. “I’m here to prove your parentage.”

  Burgundy pressed her lips together, swallowed, and nodded. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do, but trust that the woman who’d sat by her side at the last Rock Grove town meeting held the right answer to this dilemma.

  The banging of a gavel resonated throughout the room. Silas Bloom calling the meeting back to order. Burgundy turned to face him. Nowhere in his face did she see even one piece of herself, no indication that they were related. Certainly no sign of grandfatherly affection as his piercing gaze locked onto her before flicking to Mercy.

  Despite the scrutiny, the celestial continued to smile radiantly, standing tall and proud.

  “Mrs. Michaels,” Silas began, “you were present at the birth of Burgundy Jane Hart, correct?”

  “That is correct, sir.”

  “What happened on that day?”

  Mercy gave a toss of her head, blonde hair swinging before falling back perfectly into place. “Lily Bloom, the Finder to the right of your assembly, did what every woman does in a normal childbirth. Surely I don’t need to go into details. Suffice it to say, both Iris Hart and I were there to attend and witness the birth. I was present in my capacity as town clerk of Rock Grove. I recorded the date, time, and location of the event, and asked if there was a name for the child. I then asked for the names of the parents, as is the normal procedure for recording a birth.”

  “And what information did the adults present at this event give you to explain the existence of Burgundy Jane Hart?”

  Mercy held out her hand and a folded piece of paper appeared in her palm. “They confirmed Lily Bloom as her mother, though I saw that with my own eyes when Miss Hart was born. However, her paternity was unknown and thus
unrecorded. This being the case, there was immediate discussion about Iris Hart adopting her niece, since Lily Bloom had every intention of joining the Council and undergoing Finder training once she recovered from childbirth.”

  The way the corners of Silas’s mouth drooped told Burgundy she’d won. The man in the robe took the paper from Mercy and handed it up to Silas, who unfolded it, his expression souring further.

  “Were you aware of any man Lily Bloom had been involved with prior to the birth of her daughter?” he asked.

  “I wasn’t,” Mercy said, clasping her hands behind her back and lifting her chin. “However, I am not her parent and thus it was not my job to ensure she had a proper upbringing.”

  Ooh, she’d taken that question and lobbed it back so masterfully, Burgundy couldn’t help but grin. She ducked her head to hide the joy in her expression, but it didn’t diminish the low, dry sputtering she heard from her grandfather.

  A murmur rose again, the Council members conferring and a few giving Silas a side-eye Burgundy envied. She glanced at Mercy, who glanced back, lips quirking slightly before settling back into that same sweet smile.

  “As the dedicant has shown herself to be of an age to make a decision on her path, the Council hereby accepts Burgundy Jane Hart’s choice.” Silas’s voice was thin and he cleared his throat before continuing. “You will heretofore be entered into the registry as a domestic witch and expected to adhere to all laws and regulations set forth in the handbook of the Witches Council, which will be presented to you upon leaving.”

  Burgundy nodded, wishing she could speak her mind. But the way Mercy squeezed her hand kept her from saying a word. She’d said enough, that was clear, and yet not enough at the same time.

  “We also decree that as the town of Rock Grove continues to be a hotspot for warlock activity, a permanent Finder presence will be implemented until such activity is fully explained and ceases. All residents will be questioned by our Finders and those found to have knowledge of such activity will be further investigated by the full Council.”

  The gavel came down again, signaling an end to the proceedings.

  As Burgundy exchanged glances again with Mercy, she knew it also signaled the beginning of her entire town being put on trial.

  And it was all her fault.

  Chapter Twenty

  A permanent Finder presence didn’t mean one or two stern-faced witches dressed in their long black coats, hunched like overgrown crows on every street corner.

  It meant Finders on every corner of Rock Grove, twitchy and narrow-eyed, their magick stinking up the air as they searched for traces of warlocks. They entered each and every business, banged on the doors of homes, and demanded a word with every person they encountered.

  The systematic way they worked through Rock Grove started downtown and spread like a plague.

  When they first entered the library, Burgundy stood her ground alongside Mr. Knight.

  “You’re not serious,” the vampire snarled at the three Finders who flapped their way through the door, folded their arms, and glared at him. “This is a library.”

  “We’re under orders to search every inch of Rock Grove and question every resident.” The female Finder at the forefront of the trio waved the other two onward.

  Burgundy spun to watch them rifle through shelves, displacing books, DVDs, and more. Even poor Lynn stood aside, open-mouthed and staring at the careless way they searched the building. It would take more than compulsive vacuuming to fix this mess.

  “We’ll question your staff, one by one,” the woman stated. “Show me to your office.”

  Mr. Knight’s flinty gaze narrowed, sending a shiver up Burgundy’s spine. No one in their right mind would cross a vampire, but the Finders didn’t seem to have a problem with that. Burgundy half-hoped Mr. Knight would go for their throats, that ancient instincts would kick in and drive him to bloody extremes.

  I started this. Might as well burn it all down.

  But she swallowed that impulse, along with the bile that surged in her throat when Mr. Knight answered, “The Grove Room is a more comfortable for what you have in mind. This way, please.”

  Long after the Finders ransacked and left the library, hours into Burgundy using what little witchcraft she had to clean up the mess while laughing at herself about it, Mr. Knight placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “I know what happened at the Council.”

  Just like that, the roiling resumed in her gut, guilt seeping through every single pore. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “This is all my fault.”

  Mr. Knight’s hand tightened, a reassuring squeeze, so like what Mercy had offered her in the face of all those hostile witches. “You stood up for what you believe in, tried to show them their traditions are harmful and outdated, but nothing’s going to change until you remember what Aleksandr taught you.”

  Burgundy kept her head down as she floated another entire shelf of books back into place. That was it. With one last spell, she’d exhausted her witchcraft for the day, along with her last remaining ounce of goodwill toward the Council. “And what’s that?”

  “To fulfill your true potential, to stop letting one small piece of you matter more than anything else, all because you think it’s the only way to protect people. Even if you’d gone in there and been the perfect witch, they still would have done this. They’ve been waiting for a reason to hook their claws into Rock Grove.”

  Burgundy licked her lips. “I know you’re trying to help me feel better, but I’m afraid it’s going to get worse than it already is.”

  Mr. Knight knelt beside her and whispered the one word she never expected to hear.

  “Good.”

  ****

  HOME WASN’T ANY BETTER than the library. Burgundy walked into the kitchen to find Aunt Iris at the table, skin pale and features drawn. A glance around the room revealed flower petals and stems strewn all over the floor, herbs both fresh and dried scattered among shards of broken glass, pieces of twine, and muddy footprints that seemed to track everywhere in the room.

  “Seriously?” she hissed under her breath.

  Her aunt’s shoulders lifted and fell, a gentle sigh passing from her lips. “I should have known this would happen. All these years, sooner or later it would all come back around on us. Small supernatural communities like ours don’t last long. The Council see them as a place to hide the worst of the worst – vampires and warlocks, and others. I tried, though. I really did, Burgundy.”

  Burgundy picked up one of the chairs that’d been knocked to the floor and set it back in place across the table from Iris. “You tried to keep them out or me in?”

  “All of it. And now they’re here and it’s only a matter of time before they accuse you of being exactly what they suspect.”

  “Which is what?” Burgundy sank into the chair, not sure she could dredge up the wherewithal to clean the kitchen.

  “Don’t ask me to say it when you know very well what I mean. You need to stop acting like a child and take this to heart.” Iris jabbed her index finger against the table. “You know that, long ago, there was a purge of warlocks. The Witches Council led it, and females especially were targeted for their ability to birth other female warlocks. Make no mistake about it, niece, they will come after you. They will put you on trial, but you’ll already be guilty in their eyes, just for being what you are.”

  There was nothing to do but shrug and ask the one question she still didn’t know the answer to. “So, what – they’ll kill me?”

  “Perhaps. Kill the female, and you also destroy any chance of the race carrying on. If not that, then you’ll spend a good portion of your life in prison until they decide you aren’t a threat or, at the very least, benign enough not to resist them. But they will find a way to make sure you can’t produce another warlock. They won’t care about you testifying that you’re gay. Since there’s no magick spell to take away a woman’s fertility, they’ll do it the old-fashioned way. Probably with medieval
tools, too.”

  Finally, there it was – the harsh truth that made Burgundy’s stomach roil and pushed a sour lump up her throat. It tasted of bile and burned all the way down when she swallowed it. She wasn’t so naive to believe the world had fully emerged from the dark ages. But that her life was endangered, simply for being female? Above all else, that was intolerable.

  Burgundy slapped her hands against the table and pushed herself to her feet. “This is bullshit and you know it, and I know it, and everyone in Rock Grove knows it.” She stormed toward the doorway. As far as she was concerned, this was her cue to leave.

  “No!” Iris rasped back. “With few exceptions, the people of Rock Grove know nothing, and keeping it that way is what might redeem them.”

  “Might? Why – because the Council wants full control of a supernatural town just in case it harbors threats against them?”

  “That’s not why the Council—”

  “Oh, spare me!” Burgundy shouted, the knot of fear and resentment in her belly finally coming undone. “Whatever game the Council is playing at, I am so done with it. Maybe the people of Rock Grove should know the truth and decide for themselves whose side they’re on. They should know I’m nothing but a scapegoat for whatever larger scheme the Council has in mind.”

  “Why would you propose something so rash?” Now it was Iris who smacked the table and rose, her chair falling to the floor with the motion. It hardly mattered. The entire room remained in shambles. “Again, you’re behaving like a child. This rebellion is pointless! If you think the entire town would come to your defense, would stand up to the Witches Council on your behalf, think again.”

  Burgundy opened her mouth, ready to shoot back, when the front door banged open.

  The blonde who strode into the house wasn’t Mercy Michaels, the first person who flashed to mind when Burgundy saw the pale hair, but Jenna.