by C. T. Phipps
“Would I have to go to Dagobah?” I asked.
“She’d come to you.”
I was actually disappointed about that. “I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, pulling his hand away. “Mankind can be a great people, Jane. They just need someone to show them the way.”
“You really need to stop with these movie quotes.”
“No promises.”
I looked over at Lucien who was arguing with the sheriff. “You know, you should talk with your brother. He’s not such a bad guy.”
Alex’s expression became empty. “Our mother sacrificed her career to cover up his crimes. I would have done the same were not for the fact I know he’d just commit more of them. He killed, tortured, and stole to find out who was involved in his family’s death as well as kill the mercenaries involved.”
“Vengeance,” I said. “But can you blame him?”
“Yes,” Alex said, balling a fist at his side. “I can. I could understand if he just went into Marcus O’Henry’s office and stabbed him in the chest. Instead, my brother has become a pimp and dealer in poison to savor the man’s humiliation. It won’t be Marcus who suffers in the end, he’s an old man who has enjoyed the fruits of his crimes, but the people around him. In the end, the only results of my brother’s actions are death, killing innocents, or both. Even if he takes away everything Marcus has, who is to say it will not be Emma or her cousins who comes back to kill Lucien for it in a decade’s time? Victoria O’Henry’s death is as much on his head as Rudy’s.”
“Victoria got Victoria killed,” I said, once more glancing at Maria. “Well, her and the demon. Okay, Rudy too. There’s a lot of blame to go around.”
“Perhaps,” Alex said, letting go of his fist. “I’m still angry at my brother, even if he tried to save us twice.”
“All the more reason to talk.”
“Talk is cheap.”
“So is sex, but it’s still good.”
Alex looked down at me.
“I have no idea why I said that,” I said, chuckling. “Ooo, it’s humid out here.”
“Good luck with your mother, Jane.” Alex started walking toward Lucien.
I, reluctantly, started walking toward Judy Doe.
Chapter Twenty-Three
So, Mom, killed anybody in ritual sacrifice lately? No, that wasn’t the attitude I wanted to take. So, Mom, how long have you been lying to me? Since early childhood or was it from birth onward? Okay, it was possible I was dealing with some suppressed anger. It was justified. Feeling betrayed was a natural consequence of betrayal after all. But I wanted to give my mom a chance to explain what I’d been told.
I walked over to Judy, John, and Jeremy who were standing next to the sheriff’s car. Jeremy was looking, if anything, even more depressed than Maria. I wanted to grab him, throw him on the ground, and trample him. The only thing that stopped me, aside from not being a murderer, was the fact he had just lost his girlfriend and best friend too. Still, I needed to talk to him, too. We could have maybe stopped this if he’d just cooperated. We? Who was I kidding? I was bussing tables twenty-four hours ago and now I was Jane the Demon Slayer.
Finally I reached my family and tried to figure out what to say.
Dad spoke first. “Jane, you’re grounded for the rest of your life. What the hell were you thinking doing all of this?”
“Jane had my permission,” Judy said, coming to my defense.
“What?” John said, turning to her. “Are you crazy?”
“I met with Grandpa Jacob’s ghost. I killed a monster. I’ve been to Hell. I’m totally shaman-ed up,” I said, closing my eyes.
John opened his mouth as if to argue then slumped his shoulders before hugging me. “I am so sorry, honey. I’m happy for you, too, but I never actually wanted you to become a shaman. It’s a terrible life full of danger and threats.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I said, not returning my father’s hug. “There are some things I need to tell you. Lies I told in the past. I’m sorry about them too, but first I need to speak with Mom.”
“Anything you can say to me, you can say to your father,” Judy said, frowning. Apparently she’d picked up on my ‘I am royally ticked off at you’ tone.
“I really don’t think that’s the case,” I said dryly. “This is personal.”
“Female stuff?” John asked, cheerfully.
Lord, my father was dumb as a bag of hammers sometimes.
“Yeah, Dad, sure,” I said, not wanting to get into it but still sarcastic. “That’s exactly what it is.”
Judy frowned. I suspected this wasn’t what she’d seen in her vision. “All right, Jane, I’ll speak to you alone.”
“Is Maria all right?” Jeremy said, having a traumatized look on his face. He was drinking his own cup of coffee from a Styrofoam cup.
“What do you think?” I said, harsher than intended.
Jeremy looked down at the ground, realizing it was a stupid question. It was the first thinking he’d done all day in my opinion. I wanted to comfort my brother, but I was too angry at everyone in my family, myself included, to do so. This event had exposed a lot of family secrets and killing the kelpie hadn’t made me feel better about my actions eight years ago. I still hated myself for not rescuing Jill. I could move past it now, maybe, but I’d told myself that before.
I handed Jeremy my thermos of spiked coffee. “I think this magically refills itself. You’re going to need it.”
Jeremy took it. “Thanks. Listen, I didn’t—”
“I know everything,” I said, staring at him. “Way, way more than I ever wanted to know about what you’ve been doing out in the woods.”
“I can explain—” Jeremy started to say.
“Oh, you’ll talk to your sister but not your father?” John said, his voice cold. “God Almighty, if my mother were alive today.”
“She’d probably burn him alive,” I muttered.
“What?” John said.
I gestured away from the sheriff’s police cruiser. “Let’s go where no large Cervid ears can hear.”
“Our ears are not large, everyone else’s are small,” John said, still trying to be the cheerful source of humor in our relationship.
I was going to miss that.
Knowing just how effective the ears of my family were, I didn’t stop until we were on the other side of the parking lot next to the freeway. The extra sounds would help drown out what we were saying. I didn’t want anyone picking up on this conversation. Hell, I didn’t want to have this conversation, but that wasn’t an option anymore.
I mean, what did you say when you found out your saintly mother was a multiple murderer? Oh and the local crime lord who saved your life twice in one night is was probably out to kill her? That was another reason why I didn’t want anyone else nearby. I probably should have waited until we were home but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly after a night of almost being killed repeatedly.
Hindsight.
“All right,” Judy said, crossing her arms. “What is it?”
I stared at her. “The Drake family, the Red Wolf, demons, you, and Marcus O’Henry.”
My mother didn’t respond for a moment. “Dad was talkative, wasn’t he?”
“He tried to get me to drink beer,” I said, disgusted. “It was awful.”
“Where is your Michigan pride?” My mother said, staring. “It’s even more offensive given your Canadian heritage.”
I paused. “You know, I want to make a joke but I can’t. Nothing seems particularly funny right now.”
“I understand,” Judy said, not saying anything else.
“That’s it?” I asked. “You’re not going to deny it?”
“I’m not going to lie to you,” Judy said, looking over at Lucien. “I killed Mr. Drake’s parents and his older sister. I didn’t know about the murders of the other Dragon Clan members in the town but there were never that many to begin with. I thought I could put an end to the curse o
n the town and placate the spirit of the Big Bad Wolf.”
Even she referred to it that way. “You know he’s looking for the person who killed them.”
“Yes,” Judy said, turning back to me. “I knew that was a danger when I let him go at the last minute. He was a fourteen-year-old boy and we were in the Lodge—”
“Stop,” I said, staring at her. “This isn’t you.”
“No,” Judy said, closing her eyes. “It was who I was. I did a lot of things as a shaman for the Cervid clan back before the Reveal that I’m not proud of. I clouded memories, covered up homicides, and laid curses. Without the protections of human law, it fell to me to protect the clans and that included lots of black magic. If you want to know my body count—”
I lifted my hands as if to strangle her and then covered my ears. “Jesus Christ, you bake cookies on Sundays and still go to church as well as teach people about Wicca! You’re not Glinda, you’re…you’re…a bad witch!”
Okay, not my finest moment, but I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. Plus the whole day that included visiting hell and witnessing a homicide.
“Do you want me to turn myself over to Agent Timmons?” my mother asked. “My earlier crimes were pardoned along with the rest of the shapeshifters grandfathered in under the bailout treaties, but I can waive that right.”
“No,” I said, surprised at my own vehemence. “I just don’t want you to be the person who did that.”
Judy looked down. “People are rarely one thing, Jane, and that’s something you’ll find if you do decide to become a shaman. When I was your age, I wanted nothing more than to be powerful and terrifying. Magic was like a drug and I ignored the higher spiritual implications for the allure of power. I got involved with a lot of bad people.”
“The O’Henrys?”
“And vampires,” Judy said. “I was the witch in the story Marcus O’Henry used to explain why his line and this town were cursed. The difference was, I never betrayed him and helped him do a lot of terrible things.”
A disgusting image was in my head and I wanted it gone. “Grandpa Jacob said you also did it for love. Who was it?”
“Christopher O’Henry,” Judy said. “The two of us had an on-again, off-again affair.”
What was it about my family? “Does Dad know?”
“Yes,” Judy said. “Your father and I weren’t married because we wanted to be. We married because it was expected of us and our society. Therianthropy is a gene that doesn’t pass down perfectly because it’s a magical trait rather than a dominant gene. It’s why we try to make sure shapeshifters marry other shapeshifters, or did until the modern era. Eventually we fell in love, but that took a very long time.”
I was afraid to ask my next question. “Is…is Dad…John…my father?”
“Yes, you and Jeremy are both John’s.”
The implications of that stuck with me. “But not Jeanine. Holy shit. What, she’s dating her own brother?”
“Actually, they’re not blood related at all.”
“This is some Appalachian D.S!” The D, obviously, stood for deer.
“Don’t insult the Appalachians,” Judy said. “That’s where my family is originally from.”
“Obviously.”
“It’s your family too, dear.”
I covered my face. “I’m not a Baratheon, I’m a Lannister.”
“I should probably not mention John has been asked to go out and fertilize other Cervid women over the years to make sure they gave birth to shapeshifter children.”
I stared at her through the creases in my fingers. “Stop talking. Please.”
My mother, helpfully, stopped.
“Does Jeanine know?” I asked, realizing there was a reason she looked almost nothing like us. Suddenly, the fact she was buxom and beautiful like the O’Henry women while my brother and I were lithe as well as small took on a sinister new shade.
“No,” Judy said. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell her.”
I had no idea how to respond to that. “Would you have told her before she married Brad? Or was that some kind of twisted way to make sure Christopher’s grandkids inherited his and his wife’s money?”
“Be polite, Jane. You did a great service for our community and you saved your brother from imprisonment. I also have heard from the others you killed the kelpie in Darkwater Lake. I’ve spent years trying to punish it.”
“You knew about that too, huh?”
“You were too young to know,” Judy said. “I wish I’d told you about it.”
“Yeah, well, you kept a lot of things from me and now I’m stuck keeping your secrets.” I shook my head then walked away.
“Jane!” my mother called after me.
I ignored her.
I ended up tromping off into the woods, ignoring the fact those haunted woods were a veritable hellhole of evil energy. Again, not exactly thinking clearly. The woods felt different, anyway, with the aura of magical power diffused and weakened. It was still haunted, I could tell, but the Big Bad Wolf was gone.
Gone but not forgotten.
Finding a tuft of grass, I considered turning into a deer and just running away. Instead, I just sat down and tried to make sense of it all. I’d always liked to think the shapeshifters were different from the vampires and other hidden races. That we were somehow more “normal” and decent than the others who killed, brainwashed, or tortured to keep themselves safe. Apparently, that wasn’t true. We were all the O’Henry family. That was a crappy way to think of my best friend’s family now that I thought about.
Hell, it was my family now.
Kinda, sorta.
“Boo,” Jeremy said, coming up from behind me.
“Be gone, foul spirit, leave the living in peace,” I said, not bothering to turn around and waving my hand. “Something-something hinder you, if I may.”
“Does thou not knowest the prophecy?” Jeremy said, making a fake booming voice. It was from the cartoon Return of the King versus the book or Peter Jackson movie. “No man may hinder me.”
“I forget the rest of Eowyn’s lines,” I said, chuckling. “But I assume the Witch King was really annoyed at the wordplay cheating.”
“According to my literature professor, Tolkien was annoyed at Macbeth being killed by a cesarean baby instead of the more obvious prophecy twist.”
I shrugged. “For me, I think prophecies should be straightforward and true. It makes it more interesting. Fate shouldn’t have to cheat you.”
Except for the visions I’d had about me, Lucien, and Alex. That had been awkward before I’d found out they were brothers.
“Like Mom did when she saw you save the day?” Jeremy asked. He took a seat by me on the grass, putting his left arm over my shoulder. “Because you did save the day. You saved the day for the entire town.”
“Did I?” I asked, looking at him. “Your girlfriend is dead. Hell, most of your friends are, period.”
“You saved Maria and you saved me,” Jeremy said, frowning. “I can never repay you for that.”
I closed my eyes. “Jeremy, I’m honestly not in the mood right now. I found out Jeanine isn’t Dad’s, one of our grandmothers was a KKK nut, and Mom was totally the villain from The Craft.”
Jeremy didn’t respond. For a second, I hoped it was because he was stunned into silence. Then I saw the uncomfortable look on his face.
“You knew!” I said, pulling away. “How the hell am I the only person who doesn’t know these things?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Jeremy replied. “I learned a lot of uncomfortable things when I was trying to be a wizard.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I was genuinely hurt. “You used to tell me everything.”
“You always wanted to get out of the supernatural and into the quote-unquote real world. I always wanted to get into it but never could.”
Damn, that felt awful now. “What about now?”
Jeremy looked down at the grass. “Now, my girlfriend is dea
d. My best friend is her killer. There’s also Courtney. I liked her but she was more Maria’s friend than mine. For what? So a sixty-year-old wrong could be avenged.”
“And it wasn’t,” I said. “The Big Bad Wolf killed a lot of innocent people at its Lodge. It also wanted to kill you and me because we’re descendants of the people involved. I feel like a Star Wars quote is appropriate here but don’t have the energy to say it.”
“Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.”
“That’s the one.”
“Yeah.”
The heavy silence was oppressive.
“You need to look after Maria,” I said, sighing. “She’s going to need someone to be there for her and I don’t think her parents are going to be much help. Call it a vibe.”
“You mean how they went on television to blame the music and video games he enjoyed for why he went psycho?”
“Yeah,” I said, grimacing. “Maria is going to need someone like you.”
“If she ever wants to see me again.”
“Yeah.”
The two of us stayed together for another couple of hours until we were allowed to go home.
Wherever that was.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Home turned out to be Pinehold, working fort of the O’Henrys. Emma wasn’t speaking with me but she’d sent me a text to show up for work at seven a.m. on Monday, which I proceeded to do, and it was now Wednesday. I got a room at the hotel that was nicer digs than any apartment I could afford. I spent mornings in the kitchen, afternoons at college, and evenings cleaning. It wasn’t leaving me much in the way of free time, but I was grateful for that as well. More than anything, I didn’t want to think about what was going on in my life and work as a good distraction from that.
I finished my third round of “Carry On my Wayward Son” by Kansas around nine in the morning while washing dishes. I was wearing an apron over a pair of blue jeans and a Christmas shirt that showed a reindeer posse hunting Santa along with the line, “End slavery. Overthrow your oppressors.” I hadn’t slept well the night before and was haunted by nightmares showing the Big Bad Wolf and Victoria threatening Jeremy. I would have gone to therapy about it but I couldn’t afford it.