Given no other choice Isabel lashed out. She felt the immediate whip and snap of her power punch out from her upraised hands, throwing Charles clean off his feet and into the opposite wall with a loud crash, the impact causing the whole building to shake.
With a growl Charles lashed out with his own power, picking Isabel up as if she was a rag doll and slamming her into the ceiling, then allowing her to drop painfully to the ground below. Isabel tried to suck in some air but the blow and then the fall had knocked the breath from her. Charles crawled across the cabin floor, rolling her over and gripping her throat with his hands.
‘MURDERER!’ he hissed as he squeezed tightly.
Isabel brought her knee up hitting him painfully in the groin before punching him in the face. He rolled over coughing and doubled over, as she scrambled to her feet and kicked him squarely in the face. She turned to run but he grabbed her ankle forcing her to tumble to the ground, cracking her knee as she went. Charles rolled over sucking in a breath and struggling to his feet as Isabel did the same. Able to rise before her, he grasped her upper arm and the back of her neck, dragging her to her feet and slamming her face first into the mirror mounted on the wall.
Slightly dazed, she felt him draw her head back to slam it into the wall again. Raising her elbow she jabbed it back feeling his face crunch beneath her elbow and sending a jolting pain up her arm.
‘You killed Tommy!’ he growled, running for her and tackling her into the small side table which stood beside the single cot style bed. It collapsed beneath their combined weight sending them both rolling across the debris strewn floor.
‘Thomas Walcott deserved it,’ she hissed through bloodied lips across the space between them, as they both struggled to their feet. ‘Do you have any idea what that sick son of a bitch was going to do to our daughter?’
‘You don’t get to talk about our daughter,’ he lashed out again with his power, throwing her into the wall. ‘YOU SHOT HER YOU BITCH!’
Isabel snarled, gritting her teeth as she lashed back, sending him into the small dresser in the kitchen with a loud crash of plates and glasses.
‘I HAD NO CHOICE!’ she breathed heavily, ‘I needed her blood. If I hadn’t she would’ve had no protection against Nathaniel and he would’ve killed her.’
‘So you did it out of the goodness of your heart?’ he panted angrily. ‘There’s just one problem with that Isabel, you don’t have a heart.’
He went for her again, tackling her against the wall.
‘How could you murder your own mother in cold blood?’ he slammed her into the wall, the cabin once again shaking with the force of the blow.
Isabel’s eyes went flat, her face stone cold.
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘HOW COULD YOU!’ he pinned her neck again, ‘HOW COULD YOU KILL ALL THOSE MEN! HOW COULD YOU KILL JIMMY!’
She shoved him back and picked up the nearest object, which happened to be a lamp, and cracked it around his head, sending him stumbling back.
‘Why?’ he panted, his voice breaking painfully, as he finally asked the one question that had plagued him for the last twenty years. How she could have killed the man Thomas Walcott had been in love with, the man he’d called brother. ‘Why?’ he whispered, ‘why Jimmy?’
Isabel opened her mouth to speak, her eyes filled with pain.
‘WHY?’ he demanded slamming her into the wall again.
‘I DIDN’T KILL HIM!’ she shoved him back, breathing heavily as he released her neck, her voice hoarse. ‘I didn’t kill Jimmy.’
‘What?’ he stepped back in confusion, his eyes filled with disbelief. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he whispered harshly.
‘I didn’t kill Jimmy,’ she whispered back. ‘Do you think you were the only one who loved him?’ her grief filled eyes locked on his. ‘He was as much my brother as he was yours. He was the best of all of us, I would never have harmed a hair on his head.’
‘Liar,’ Charles spat venomously.
‘I’m not lying,’ Isabel threw back, ‘I never killed any of those men.’
‘No,’ he shook his head.
‘I wasn’t the one who was trying to raise the demon,’ she told him.
‘No, no, no,’ he kept shaking his head. ‘Shut up.’
‘No, I won’t,’ she stepped angrily toward him. ‘It’s time you faced up to the truth and to your part in it.’
‘Don’t you dare blame me,’ his eyes widened furiously. ‘I didn’t do this, you did.’
‘You think so?’ she shot back.
‘It was you,’ he answered, ‘it was always you. You were so obsessed with power because of your lack of it. You were jealous of me, of your mother, of your aunt, of all of those who came before you and worst…’ he stalked closer to her, so close they were almost touching, ‘worst of all you were jealous of your own daughter.’
‘Is that what she told you?’ Isabel whispered painfully, ‘is that the poison she whispered in your ear?’
‘Who?’
‘My mother,’ she answered.
‘Don’t…’ he warned dangerously, ‘don’t try to turn this around Isabel. No matter what you believe, your mother loved you, she tried to stop you. You can spin all the lies you want, but you killed those men and then you turned on your aunt, leaving her for dead before your mother confronted you and you killed her for it.’
‘You are such a fucking moron!’ she shouted angrily. ‘For once in your god damned life use that brain you’re so fucking proud of. I didn’t kill them, don’t you think you would’ve known? You were the one person I thought knew me better than anyone!’
Charles shook his head in denial.
‘You were missing,’ he replied, ‘when Jimmy was killed.’
Isabel shoved him back, staring at him painfully as she reached into the back pocket of her jeans, having lost her cloak sometime during the fight. She pulled out a tattered folded bundle of paper and threw it at him.
It bounced off his chest and dropped to the ground. He leaned down warily and scooped it off the floor, unfolding it and staring down at it in confusion. It was old, ripped and worn with age, but it was quite clearly three train tickets to New York, in his, Isabel’s and Olivia’s names. Dated for the night Alice West died and their house burned. He flicked through the tickets to the receipt, it had been booked and paid for…his gaze dropped to the time and date stamp.
Charles looked up at her sharply.
It had been dated and time stamped for the exact time of Jimmy’s murder on the opposite side of town to where Jimmy had died. She couldn’t have killed him.
‘You asked me why it had to be Jimmy?’ she replied quietly, ‘and that I can tell you..’ she blew out a breath. ‘It had to be Jimmy, because she knew that was the one thing you wouldn’t have forgiven me for.’
‘Who?’
‘My mother,’ she whispered.
‘No,’ he shook his head in denial. ‘You attacked Evie at the Stick House, you left her for dead and then killed your mom when she caught up with you in our house.’
‘Evie,’ Isabel replied evenly, ‘was so blinded by her love for her sister. Mom controlled her completely; she was so dependent on her as mom was the more dominant twin. She was barely conscious, mostly bled out and oxygen deprived. She remembered what she wanted to of that night because the truth was too much for her to handle, but the truth was my mom manipulated you from the moment she found out I was pregnant with Olivia.’
Charles stared at Isabel in horror, his face contorted in confusion and his mind wrestling with something he refused to believe was true.
‘You and I both know what Olivia is,’ her eyes locked on his. ‘My mother knew it too, right from the first moment. From that moment on it was all about Olivia, it was always about Olivia.’
‘No,’ he whispered again, his voice losing some of its conviction.
‘She attacked her own sister, she left Evie f
or dead. That night she came to our house to kill both you and I and take Olivia.’
He shook his head in denial.
‘I’d bought the tickets so that we could take Olivia and run. From New York, I’d booked flights to Europe. I was packing when she came to the house. I thought it was you coming home. She caught me by surprise, there was a struggle, I had no choice. I wasn’t going let her take my daughter.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense,’ he shook his head, ‘Alice loved Olivia, she was a good woman. Why would she do this? Why would she kill anyone?’
‘Because of the book,’ she breathed in exasperation, ‘because of the fucking book. Hester had hidden it. She wanted it and she knew Olivia would be able to find it for her.’
Charles stepped back into her angrily, forcing her to back up a step.
‘Even if what you’re telling me is true,’ he growled, ‘it don’t change the fact that I saw you Isabel…I saw you that night at Boothe’s Hollow. I saw you kill Tommy and set Nathaniel free. You can’t blame your dead mother for that. You may not have committed murder back in 1994 but you certainly were responsible for it this time around.’
She shoved him back and stepped into him.
‘You think you have it all figured out; you think you understand?’
‘Make me understand then!’ he got in her face.
‘You believed I was the monster,’ her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘so I became the monster.’
‘Why?’
‘BECAUSE YOU BETRAYED ME!’ she shoved him back again as a tear escaped and rolled down her blood smeared cheek. ‘I was so in love with you,’ she breathed painfully, as another tear escaped, ‘I was so in love with you and our daughter. I didn’t care about the book. I would have run anywhere with you, but you…betrayed…me…’
‘Isabel,’ he stepped towards her, unaware he was reaching for her until she slapped his hands out of the way.
‘YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME…’ she shoved him again hard, her vision blurred with hot angry tears. ‘You said it was you and me and Olivia, but the first time…’ she shoved him hard against the wall, ‘the first time that love was tested you betrayed me. You listened to that woman’s poison and not once did you defend me. You drank in everything she told you.’
She punched him, punctuating each angry painful word with pounding fists.
‘HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?’
‘Isabel,’ he grasped her hands to stop her from hitting him.
She ripped her hands from his and tore open the front of her shirt, revealing a long jagged painful looking scar across her chest.
‘HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?’ she pulled away from him, unable to look at him. ‘You left me to burn to death.’
‘Isabel…’ he whispered painfully as he grabbed her, roping his arms around her so she couldn’t escape, as his tortured eyes stared at the cruel looking scar he had given her. He still remembered the sickening moment the knife had slid into her chest, tearing her flesh. Her eyes wide and her mouth open in shock as she stared at him. It had been burned into his brain for the last twenty years, a wound that hadn’t healed any better than the scars she bore.
He pulled her in closer and spun them both until she was pinned to the wall by his body. His lips crashed down on hers, his hands grasping her hair almost painfully. The kiss was as bruising as it was punishing. Into it poured all the hurt and confusion, the pain and the longing, all tied up in a messy bow of lust and resentful love.
Isabel bit down on his lip, her own hands thrusting into his hair and tugging painfully. They devoured each other, his hands released her hair and raked down her bruised and aching body, then grasping her thighs he lifted her, slamming her back against the wall again, her legs tightening around him.
‘Charlie,’ she breathed against his mouth.
They both froze and for a second the years fell away, a moment suspended in time, a moment when they had loved each other desperately.
As quickly as the moment had come it was gone and all the hurt and pain came crashing in on them, sweeping them along like a volcanic eruption.
They were frantic, clothes were torn and discarded, nails raked against naked skin drawing blood with a hiss of pain. Hair was pulled and fingers dug in and bruised. It was a blurred line between anger and release, each trying to take all they could from the other. As soon as Isabel was free of her jeans, Charles ripped open the buttons of his pants, shoving them down as he grasped her thighs and thrust into her.
She cried out, ignoring the slight bite of pain as it was replaced with the familiar feel of him, something she’d not felt in nearly two decades of pain and resentment.
They both set a punishing rhythm, neither able to even identify what they were feeling, let alone control it. Still unsteady from the fight, they dropped to the floor.
He rolled her underneath him, claiming her mouth once again. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in closer. Her fingers once again tangled in his hair as she yanked hard. She tore her mouth from his in a gasp as the painful tension in her body began to build.
Biting down on her shoulder hard, he grunted and thrust into her body faster. Ignoring the pain from the debris on the floor biting into her back and his knees, they greedily feasted on each other.
His fingers tightened on her hips hard enough to leave fingerprints in her skin and he thrust in hard, causing her to slide a few inches across the floor, her back arching as her body exploded in an orgasm so intense it was almost painful and leaving him helpless but to follow her into oblivion.
They both slumped to the ground breathing hard. Neither of them looked at the other, not willing to face the consequences of what they had just done or the emotional minefield they had just armed.
Long minutes ticked by. As Isabel's heart rate returned to normal and her breathing slowed, she rolled painfully to her side and pushed herself slowly to her feet.
There wasn’t an inch of her body that didn’t hurt, either physically or emotionally. She grabbed her clothes and yanked them on roughly. Charles watched her silently, a puzzled expression marring his brow. Finally he grabbed his pants which were still around his thighs and pulled them up to cover himself.
‘Isabel,’ his voice rumbled, suddenly loud in the silence of the decimated cabin.
She turned to look at him silently, her lip split and a deep bruise already blossoming along her temple.
‘Olivia…’
‘Already knows,’ she interrupted him.
‘What?’ he replied, although his face was neutral his voice was like ice.
‘I told her the truth about her precious Nana,’ Isabel replied coolly.
‘Why would you do that?’ he stood as gingerly as she had, a nasty bruise spreading along his ribcage. Bleeding nail marks raked along his biceps and a bite mark decorated his shoulder. ‘Why take that from her? What possible purpose can it serve now?’
‘That is between me and her,’ she answered, her eyes now guarded. ‘You had your chance to protect her, no one knows better than I do what is coming for her. I’m going to warn you once and once only Charles. Don’t come between me and my daughter, not this time. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she needs me. I’m the only one that can help her.’
His jaw clenched with restraint as he watched her carefully.
‘And what happened between us tonight,’ her gaze flickered to the floor behind him, ‘changes nothing….I’m not a woman that can be trusted, and you would do well to remember that.’
Before he could utter a word she turned and in a swirl of purple smoke she was gone, leaving him once again alone.
16.
Theo leaned against the doorway to the living room, watching with dark and troubled eyes. Olivia sat curled up in a deeply cushioned chair, her favorite blanket wrapped around her, her feet tucked under her as she stared out of the window. The TV, which was rarely on, was tuned to a random channel and played to no one in particular.
Hooked up to the TV was an old VCR Theo had hauled out of the attic and next to it was a battered cardboard box with the words ‘home videos’ scrawled across the side in untidy handwriting. Tapes littered the floor around the box and one of them half hung out of the VCR, with ‘Olivia’s 4th Birthday’ printed in large black letters across its edge.
Behind her, flickering over her head and at her shoulders, were three of her dragonflies. He wasn’t even sure she was aware she’d conjured them. He’d seen them many times. He’d seen them comprised of the warm gold and red of her Earth fire and in cool silver made of her Spirit fire. He’d seen them in the blue black of Hell fire and the striking purple of Witch fire, but now they kept flickering from blue to black, to purple and blue, then to red and silver. They seemed as scattered as her thoughts, her magic clearly reflecting her state of mind, which worried him even more.
‘Olivia?’ he called softly.
She didn’t even stir. She either hadn’t heard him or she couldn’t bring herself to care enough to answer. It killed him to see her like this; to feel so helpless knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her pain or her mind.
‘Livy?’ he called slightly louder.
Slowly she drew her gaze from the window toward him.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ he asked softly, ‘anything I can get you?’
She stared at him distractedly for a moment before finally shaking her head in the negative and turning back to the window. Knowing there was nothing to do but step back and let her work through it in her head he released a concerned breath and turned from the room, heading to his studio to work out his own frustration on his canvases.
Olivia was vaguely aware that Theo had left the room but her gaze was firmly fixed on the lake. It was not often she used this room, usually preferring her library but it was no comfort to her, not today. She needed the lake, needed the pale light glancing off the soothing lap of the water. She was unable to see it from the window in the library, besides her head was too full, too unsettled, to be in the tight confines of that room. She’d always loved its sweet coziness but now it just felt stifling.
The Guardians Complete Series 1 Box Set: Contains Mercy, The Ferryman, Crossroads, Witchfinder, Infernum Page 176