“Hecate’s eyes,” I said. “I can’t just take that on. I can’t just be like, oh I’m the Princess Knight now. They have other people doing it. They don’t need me.”
“Other people who don’t have the super-special, super-secret access to the super-weird ether? Or the sword or whatever?”
“I don’t know,” I said. My voice and my heart were weary.
“Look, Rue,” Bran said. For once she wasn’t being meanly honest. “Take a shower, curl up on the bed for the Hallow Princess and sleep without worrying about dying. Eat. Find your murderer. You can decide about being the Princess Knight of the Dead and Undead when someone isn’t trying to kill you. But honestly…Chrysie was on the main family line right? You are. And you had that black flame experience in the night time which is clearly a near death experience. Probably that other Hallow kid was a possible heir or they sure looked like someone who was.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that everyone but you until a few minutes ago knew that these murders had everything to do with that Keeper Role and they didn’t tell you. You can’t trust any of them. Find out for yourself. Protect yourself. Girl up, Princess.”
I swallowed and closed my eyes. Hecate’s eyes, she was right. Damn it.
But then she squeezed in, “Knight of the Dead and Undead,” before I hung up on her.
She wasn’t wrong though. I did need a shower. That was easy enough. I found my way through the house, following one of the staircases up and then, because I was a witch and this was a witch house, I closed my eyes and delved out until I felt something that felt right. When I opened the door and found a young picture of my mom and someone who looked an awful lot like Chrysie, I slammed the door closed and told the house not to open the door again until I provided the okay.
I felt a shift in the magic around me, and I was pretty sure that it locked off the room. But I didn’t wait and see. I ran down the stairs, up the next stair case, and spun in a circle and pointed. I was pointing to the door at the end of the hall. I walked past several doorways, leaving them closed and opened a room that was untouched. A personality-less, unowned and unmarked guest type room. Perfect. No feel of other witches. No sense that I was intruding. Nothing that screamed this had once been my mother’s room.
And I liked it.
It would have been a princess room if I’d have admitted it. I wasn’t going to, though. Even if you had to take steps down into the room. Three steps into a huge depression. With a bed that was clearly custom made because it was way, way bigger than a king. There were other doorways off of the room and a spiral staircase up to a loft. This wasn’t a room. It was rooms. It was a princess suite, and I knew that I wouldn’t be looking further.
This one was mine.
* * * * * * * *
I found the bathroom off of the bedroom. It had an enormous tub and separate shower to match the crazy, spoiled princess witch room. To say the tub was ridiculous was to say that I didn’t want a hip deep rectangle bath that was long enough for a giant of a man to stretch out in and not have his head or toes touch the ends of the bath. And saying I didn’t want this bathroom was insane. I was a lot of things. Morally challenged at times. Loaded down with the baggage of my childhood. A monster. But I had enough internal princess to want this bathroom.
I hated to admit it, even to myself, but I could hear Bran in my head. Oh look, she’d say, you have a princess knight bath to match your princess knight room. Avarice ran through me as I stared at the wonder of these rooms and I realized I didn’t care what Bran would say.
And I shouldn’t.
She’d be ashamed of me if I let her snide comments ruin my enjoyment of this house and if I couldn’t quit being the stupid Keeper-elect, you could be sure that I’d be taking full advantage of its benefits.
I bypassed the bath, though it killed a little piece of me to do so, and turned the shower on. There was a brief pause and then hot water poured out. From multiple shower heads of course.
Of course.
It was the perfect temperature and perfect pressure. I could tell with one flick of my finger in the water, and I dropped my clothes and stepped inside gratefully.
While the water pounded away the chill I’d had since I saw Chrysie’s spirit, it didn’t remove the underlying sense that something more was waiting to befall. If we found the killer would I be safe? Even to be the Keeper, why would anyone, ever kill so many people for this job? It just didn’t make sense.
Who would benefit from murdering the potential keepers other than whoever was on the replacement team? But…I had to admit even I found it hard to believe that there was a whole team of united murderers in order to want to keep some risky job.
One person? Maybe. But a group of crazies that weren’t in a commune? I doubted it.
Who else could it be? Whoever controlled the team? Who could that be?
I closed my eyes and let the water pour over my face while a second shower head pounded my shoulders and back with thumps of massaging water. The night in the graveyard was being steamed and washed away leaving me aching for a bed. Just for a few minutes. A power nap, I told myself, wondering if I’d be able to get up after a quick sleep.
I stumbled, a relaxed mess from the shower, wrapped a towel around my head and a convenient robe around my body and slid into the softest sheets I’d ever experienced, slipping into sleep the moment I had snuggled my face into the pillow.
* * * * * * * *
I woke to a knock on the door and the careful call of my name.
“What?” I groaned.
It was Felix. He walked in and said, “There’s a Hallow business type person here.”
I closed my eyes in utter frustration and the sheer, exhausted fury of being woken. Before I sent a fireball at Felix, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he didn’t have to be here. For some reason—we’d become friends. And then I took another breath and sat up.
“Did you let them in?”
He shook his head.
“I haven’t laid my own wards yet,” I sighed, wishing I hadn’t succumbed to the allure of my bed.
But I had.
And that was that.
I opened the closet, hoping for something that I could wear and found jeans. And t-shirts. And shoes. They were in the right size. Dresses that I didn’t hate.
“There was clothes for me in the servant’s quarters too. This house is putting on a show for you,” Felix said from the doorway watching me stare at the closet. Lifelong witch or not, he sounded a bit awed. “I wish it hadn’t taken your joke seriously though the servants quarters are better than the dorms.”
I took in his comment but said nothing. I shooed him out to choose clean underwear and clothes without an audience. They were just as I liked. Black boy shorts. Black lace bra. Jeans. Flattering but not constricting. And a simple shirt. I pulled my long black hair into a perfectly smooth ponytail and reminded myself that I didn’t have to prove anything.
I’d already done all the proving I was going to when I knocked on the front door and the house had accepted me.
Hopefully whoever this business type was agreed.
chapter 14
I found a staircase next to the door of my rooms and made my way down the hidden steps. They ended up in a massive kitchen with a brick floor, ancient and awesome appliances, and found that Chrysie and Jessie had already located the room and made themselves comfortable at the massive farm table.
A part of me wanted to kick everyone out so that they'd quit finding things before me. I wanted to be the one who explored the house and found its nuances. But I wasn’t so stupid I didn’t recognize how lucky I was to have people who didn’t run away from me.
It hadn’t, after all, been that hard to leave Oliver behind when he knew I was in danger. And yet—here was a girl I’d helped find her way through campus, a guy I’d played poker with and planned to commit crimes, and a girl who—well…Jessie was probably here to be in the house tha
t she knew sooo much about.
Chrysie had a large pizza box in front of her and was practically shoveling the food in. She had a large piece of pizza in each hand and was alternating which one she bit from as she ate. Jessie had one piece of pizza on a plate, that she hadn’t touched to watch Chrysie eat.
“Do you want us to come with you?” It was Jessie who asked. Why was she here? Was it just the legend unrolling before her? The ancient Hallow House opening—the Keeper talisman? The possibility of being part of something that was different and unexpected?
I wanted to say no. But I also didn’t want to die, and I wasn’t sure who was at the door. People lie. All the time. It’s why the truth serum spell is so very popular.
Speaking of…
“Does anyone have truth serum?”
Everyone shook their heads but then there was a sound like the house clearing its throat and a drawer opened. It was empty except for a vial. I opened it and smelled it.
Aw, that familiar, comforting smell. It was like the scent of home and it was vaguely comforting like the smell of tomato soup and grilled cheese for normal families.
“Coffee?” I asked.
Coffee was the perfect medium for the truth serum. It didn’t accelerate the abilities like the citrus juices did. But strong coffee…it was so normal to hand someone a cup that they didn’t even realize they’d been truth serumed until they started vomiting the truth. That was something that Ingrid and Emily at home had taught me. They’d even caught my mom that way, and that was just brilliant. Given that Autumn Jones was the truth seruming queen. Or had been until Ingrid and Emily had started paying another coven member to make it for them.
Anyway, back to the present. The house had cracked a cupboard, and I found ancient coffee and an ancient french press. I asked for hot water and near boiling water came out of the faucet. Sweet Hecate, I loved this house.
I made the coffee, making whoever had come to bug us wait. And then an amazing thought struck me.
“House, is there energy potion in here?”
The same drawer opened and there was another vial in it. “Praise all good things everywhere,” I said grabbing it with hands that shook in excitement. I didn’t even pour it in anything, I opened the vial and downed it. I didn’t care who else was tired. It was all mine.
Jessie, Chrysie and Felix watched me with wide eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“Drinking that seems like an interesting and possibly dangerous choice,” Jessie said delicately as she tucked a strand of loose red hair behind her ear.
Felix had watched with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “They took your potions?”
I nodded once. The thought of my precious vials in this sharks’ hands infuriated me.
“How addicted are you to your potions?”
“Pretty darn,” I replied, feeling the serum hit my bloodstream. Almost immediately the tension behind my eyes faded, and the nausea in my stomach disappeared.
I took a deep breath and then another. That wasn’t my potion, but it would do until I could make some more.
I then poured two cups of coffee, truth serumed the crap out of one, and took a deep breath.
“Coming?” I asked the others.
They nodded, watching me with wide eyes. It was basically against all witch rules to just spell someone without their knowing. A magical rape. Sort of, of course, because rape was so much worse. But also, I was practical enough to not care about things like ethics when people were dying. People didn’t get to try to kill me without repercussions to the world at large. If this person was not the killer, I might apologize.
If they were, I was going to throat punch them to death.
Or something.
Jessie carried a coffee cup for herself and Felix. Chrysie took another piece of pizza and followed with longing eyes back at the rest of the pizza. I reached out and took a piece of pepperoni. She might have snarled at me. I might have snarled back as I popped it into my mouth.
She looked startled and then ashamed. I gave her my evil grin, and she seemed to feel better.
And then we went to confront whoever had been so quick to show up at the house. I didn’t trust anyone. Especially anyone who had already found out that I was here. Surely whoever that was also knew that I'd come here to protect myself against the killer. That this place was a refuge? Even if they weren't the killer, I doubted I’d like them.
* * * * * * * *
Nope.
I didn’t like her. She gave me a furious glare when I showed up at the door.
“I have been waiting for some time.”
The woman wore shoes with boxy heels and tight pencil skirt, and there was an honest-to-Hecate ruffle at her neck.
“Call for an appointment next time,” I told her flatly.
She handed me a card. Habitha Leone. And I had thought that Veruca was bad.
“I am the one people call for appointments.” Man, she was uptight.
It made screwing with her too much fun. “Last I checked, I was the Hallow heir.”
“That remains to be seen.”
I looked at Jessie, who shook her head. Chrysie and Jessie had stepped outside. I leaned against the doorjamb in the safety of the entry way. You know where the wards were.
“Did you want something?” I didn’t sound that interested. It was possible that I didn’t care who Habitha Leone was or if I irritated her.
“It has been decided by the Hallow Council that you are an unfit heir.”
I paused and took a sip of my coffee, handing her a cup casually. She took it without thinking, the fool.
“Tell that to Hallow House.” My voice was bored. I was, however, not. I was enraged. This was my house.
“You can be evicted if we choose.”
The house rumbled behind me. It was as if the house had snarled at Habitha. Her face didn’t betray an emotion beyond a very slight widening of the eyes.
“You can be evicted if you haven’t slept, bathed or eaten in the house.” She reached out to where my hand was just outside the door and laid a spell on me. I tried to jerk away, but I couldn’t because the spell kept us bound.
In Proto-Romanian she said, “I evict thee. Thou art not a Hallow. Thou art not the heir. Thou art nothing.”
She dropped my hand and grinned smugly.
“I thought my mom was a ripe cow,” I said casually. This stupid wench. She’d come to my house. She’d reached out and laid a spell on me. Talk about breaking ethics. She’d tried to steal my inheritance. I just intended to be sure she wasn’t going to lie to me about trying to murder me and Chrysie.
“As soon as you leave the house you will be unable to return. You can’t stay in there forever.”
I had felt the weight of the spell. And I had felt it slide right off of me. I guessed that someone else had created the spell and given her the words to activate it. She had no idea she hadn’t been successful. I was very, very interested in who that person was and why they didn’t want me as the heir.
“I am the Hallow Heir. I am of the rightful line,” I didn’t of course know if anything I said was true. But I was absolutely certain that when you speak with confidence, even if everything you said was utter crap, people would often believe you.
I stepped out of the house and I told her clearly. “This is my house. I am the heir. You can’t do anything about that.”
I got in her face, like Bran did when she was intimidating some high school mean girl and I leaned down, because thank the gods, I was taller than this wench.
“Did you see me exit the house?”
She nodded shakily, stepping back just slightly.
I stepped back inside and I said, “Cheers.”
I would have slammed the door in her face, but given that Felix, Jessie, and Chrysie were outside, it would have looked stupid when I had to open it to let them in. Instead, I cocked my head at her and said, “I guess you better go tell your masters that they were too late. And accept that you can’t do a d
amn thing about me.”
She licked her lips and took a shaky sip of coffee.
My inner monster howled with joy. I had won and I had gotten her to dose herself. I didn’t even feel guilty about it anymore.
“Who sent you,” I asked her.
“I told you. The Hallow Family Council.”
“Well,” I told her. “You should probably tell them that they were too slow. That I’ve been accepted by the house and accepted it. This is my house. Like it was my mother’s before me and her parent’s before her. Whatever power you think you got because my mother left a power vacuum has been filled.”
Habitha with her smooth business face and her too-square shoes was shaking her head in denial. “That isn’t going to work. They’ll never accept it.”
“I don’t care about that. But I am pretty sure that they’ll lose regardless because if I know my mother, and I know her much, much better than the fools who run your council do, there isn’t a damn thing you can do about my inheritance except, perhaps, stall and make an enemy of me.”
She looked as if she wanted to object. I didn’t give her the time.
“Did you kill Chrysie and the other Hallow kids?”
She looked shocked as she shook her head.
“Did your bosses?”
“Of course not. But the inheritance is wrapped up to protect and fund the person who keeps the thinning.”
“That’s not true,” Jessie said. “The money is wrapped up for the Hallow Heir as selected by Hallow House.”
“Tell that to our lawyers,” the woman said. “They disagree.”
“I bet they won’t now.” I smiled, and I felt the monster that was my mother flash in my eyes. That was my money. I had zero idea how much it was and even if it was worth fighting for, but I wasn’t going to let them just keep it. It was mine. It had been my grandparent’s.
Probably. I honestly had no idea, but I preferred to think it was theirs and that it was mine now. There was something about the house that made them more real to me. Before, I had known my mother had parents. But it had been in the intellectual way like knowing something was blue or that China was on the other side of the world even though I had never been there. Now they were my grandparents. This was my house. This was my family.
Hallow Graves: A Rue Hallow Mystery Page 12