by Shona Husk
“One done, one more to go.” She traced one finger over his skin, as if She were a lover. “I’ve always liked this bracelet. You mother was a smart woman, even if she wasn’t a witch.” Her fingers wrapped round his wrist, Her nails black-tipped claws, like a raven’s, then She squeezed as if trying to crush his bones. “There, ready for use and Thomas won’t see a thing.”
“Thank you.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth; his skin felt like it had been burned and the bones ached. Was his body was still upright on the bed or had he passed out?
“You will be fine.” Then She stood, Her hips swaying as She walked away. “Give me blood and sex, the rites of old, and you shall be victorious. Be my weapon and kill my prey. I have been waiting too long for Thomas Quigley’s death.”
He blinked and was sitting on his bed as if only seconds had passed. A quick look at the clock told him it had once again been hours. His wrist ached and the skin around his neck felt tender, and yet when he ran his fingers over his skin where the chain should be there was nothing.
Slowly he unfolded his legs and let the blood flow return. But his legs weren’t the only part of him getting a rush of blood. Thanks.
Outside, the house a crow laughed, a slow mocking caw.
Chapter 13
She knew the moment Mr. Quigley left the house. Everything released the breath it had been holding—the house, the garden, her. She let the mask drop and inhaled, slowly and deeply, and stretched as if waking. Then she gave up dusting the front room and went downstairs to find Oskar.
He walked through the kitchen door and smiled at her. He looked tired today, but heat still filled his eyes and made her heart beat a little faster. She pulled down a recipe book and scrawled a note in the margin next to some kind of custard pudding that she was sure she’d never made.
He’s gone to get the food and supplies for your dinner.
Oskar nodded and pointed to her necklace. Ready?
No, but she needed to say yes, otherwise Oskar would be a statue and she’d be trapped until the next gardener came along—and he may not be able to help. No one else had ever tried. That was the one thing she’d contemplated last night. Had she done this before, tried to get free only to fail and send men to their deaths like poor Charlie?
But the answer was always no. When she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d dreamed of shiny black feathers falling from the sky. Oskar was making them fall and he crackled with energy like an avenging angel.
This was her chance to be free. It may never come again. If Oskar failed, she’d never know, as she’d be dead. Death was an escape from Mr. Quigley and his odd perversions, but it wasn’t the escape she wanted. She wanted to live again, no matter the cost.
She wrote one word. Yes.
Oskar’s smile thinned to a line, he scrawled a note for her and then walked away. I need your blood. I’ll be back in a moment.
What was he going to do with her blood? Nothing good ever came from being cut. But he couldn’t cut her because of Mr. Quigley’s order. She shivered. When Oskar came back, it was with the tea towel he’d used to mop up the blood when she’d cut herself.
He’d kept it. Panic fluttered against her ribs and her mouth dried. Why had he kept it? That was like some of the weird things Mr. Quigley did. The blood, the knives, the dead birds, and statues. Magic. She crossed herself and looked at Oskar. He’d said he wasn’t like Mr. Quigley, and yet…
He half-filled a glass with water and snipped off a small piece of the blood-stained tea towel, then dropped it in. The water began to color.
Tension tightened around her chest, making it hard her for to breathe. She didn’t know enough about Oskar to trust him. He knew too much about Mr. Quigley and magic. And yet he was warm and alive where Mr. Quigley was as cold as death. His touch was gentle and his eyes were usually smiling or full of heat. Except today.
Today he was concentrating, watching the water.
When he stood next to her, she was sure she felt a shimmer of something and heard a slight hiss. He placed his hands on her arms and raised one eyebrow.
Again asking if she was ready.
Would she ever be?
She would always be afraid of what would happen, but if she did nothing she knew exactly what would happen. She drew in a slow breath and gave a very small nod. It was her life to risk, not Mr. Quigley’s to play with.
Oskar closed his eyes for a moment, his hands slid up her shoulders and stopped just short of her throat. One hand moved, his fingers dipping into the bloodied water. Then he traced around the chain the way Mr. Quigley did. She bit her lip and tried to stay still, even though she wanted to pull away. Her stomach was a stormy ocean. The hairs on her neck prickled to attention, then Oskar was removing his hands and the necklace was in them.
He opened his eyes and for a moment she saw something in them, a power that he kept locked away. In that moment he looked nothing like a gardener or a scruffy odd jobber. He was the warrior angel from her dream making it rain crow feathers, and crackling with power.
Witch. The word formed in her mind. Weren’t witches in league with the devil? But that didn’t seem right. Where Mr. Quigley had always seemed odd, Oskar was the epitome of normal. He made her heart jump and her body hum with desire.
He set the necklace down. “You should be able to talk now.”
Mylla opened her mouth then shut it. He was right, there was no order stopping her from speaking. But she didn’t know what to say. What could she say?
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, feeling lighter with every heartbeat. Those words seemed so inadequate. She was free, she could leave… Then she realized the fog was gone. When she thought about leaving and walking out the gates, nothing happened. She took a step and Oskar stopped her.
“There’s a circle around us, please don’t break it as I don’t want to set off any magical trip wires he has. I’m just glad nothing has happened yet.” He looked up and then toward the staircase, as if expecting trouble. “Hopefully he won’t have been tipped off, either.”
Questions tumbled through her mind, all the things she’d wanted to tell him, things she wanted to know about him and also warn him about. But she didn’t know where to start. Yes she did. “We have to leave before he gets back.”
She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she spoke. She could speak without being spoken to first. “I can say whatever I want.” She lifted her chin and looked Oskar in the eye. “What do you mean circle?”
“I cast a circle to keep my magic in and camouflaged.” He watched her closely as if expecting her to ask.
She wasn’t going to disappoint. “How do you know magic?”
His jaw worked for a moment before he answered. “I’m a witch. I came to stop Thomas.”
He was supposed to give her a rational explanation. Not tell her that her dreams were real. “Witches…” aren’t real? What about magic? She knew that was real. “Is Mr. Qu—” She didn’t have to call him Mr. Quigley anymore. “Is Thomas a witch?”
“He was a long time ago, but…” Oskar put his hands into his pockets. “I guess he still is, but he doesn’t follow the same path as me. He uses death magic.”
Death magic. The words rolled around her mind, then she remembered she could speak and ask all the questions she wanted. “Death magic…as in the statues?”
He nodded. “They were people—still are.”
“I know they were people—wait, still are?” Her mouth wasn’t keeping up with her thoughts. That meant Charlie was still alive. The man she’d been planning to marry… But when she thought of him none of the same sparks that happened when she was with Oskar appeared. It was as if that flame had died when her mind had been broken.
“They are alive, Mylla, and he is draining them so that he can live.”
Charlie could be saved. He could get a second chance at living like she was. They both deserved that. “That means you can help Charlie…” But as she looked at Oskar, she knew that wasn’t wh
at he was going to be saying. There was a sadness there and he lowered his gaze so he didn’t have to look at her.
“I’m sorry. I can’t save them, but when Thomas is dead, they will die and be freed.”
She was going to be sick, her skin prickled and turned cold. She knew Thomas was turning people into statues, but she hadn’t realized they were alive in there. That was worse than what she was going through. She swallowed, then swallowed again to make sure she was in control.
“Was Charlie your boyfriend?” Oskar still refused to meet her gaze.
“Fiancé. Thomas caught us together and, well, you know the rest.” She pointed to the necklace. This whole thing had been her fault; she could have prevented it all by giving into Thomas. However, she would’ve hated every minute and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have bound her to his will anyway.
“Why would he do that?”
“He wanted me. But I kept refusing. He smelled strange, like rotting rubbish, and he seemed old, even though he didn’t look it. It was his eyes, I think. The other staff didn’t like him either, but he paid well. Even then there was talk of rituals at night and dead animals. Once there was a dead whore that the butler had to dispose of.” Memories kept flooding back. All things he’d wanted her to forget. “I should’ve just accepted his offer and no one else would have been hurt.”
“He uses death magic. He was hurting people before you, and would’ve continued. Don’t take any blame for his actions.”
She nodded and wished it was that simple.
“When did the other staff leave?”
“I don’t know, maybe it was after he put the necklace on me.” She looked up. “Do you think he killed them too?”
“Hard to say. Probably.”
“We have to go before he comes back. He’ll make you a statue and put that back on me.” She was never wearing another necklace.
“I can’t leave. I have to stop him.”
“We can get the police.”
Oskar shook his head and looked at the ground. “It’s not that simple.”
“We’ll stop him—” Then she realized what that actually meant. Oskar was talking about killing Thomas. Something she knew she’d thought of before, but the necklace had always swept aside the thought. What other thoughts had he stopped her from having over the years? What thoughts had he made her have? Could he do that? “Then…” She paused and tried to find the words that she’d never even been able to think. “When he gets home, we can kill him.” The words were cold and flat from her lips.
After everything he’d done to her and the men now living as statues, he deserved to die, and yet saying those words was very different to thinking them and forgetting. Was she as bad as Thomas for wanting him dead? The trouble with spoken words was they couldn’t be unspoken. Thoughts could be erased and written words could be crossed out. Her words, wishing him dead, hung in the air between them. What would Oskar think of her?
His lips twitched but never made it into a smile. “We wouldn’t last ten seconds. He is far more powerful than I am.”
“Then forget about him and leave.” She held Oskar’s hand, willing him to agree. Freedom was only a few steps away. Once away from the house, she’d worry about everything else. And the statues? What choice did they have? How much longer would they live if she and Oskar walked away? Having her own thoughts again meant her mind was full of ifs and maybes and guilt. It hurt. Every choice ended in pain for someone. She started to shake.
Oskar put his arms around her. There was none of the heat like the other night, this was just a simple embrace and offering of strength. She closed her eyes and let the heat from his skin soak into her. For a moment neither of them spoke.
He sighed and placed a kiss on her temple. “I can’t. I have a death curse on me. I die at midnight on my thirtieth birthday, which is in less than two months. If I don’t stop him, I die. That’s why I’m here.”
She frowned, not understanding. “But who would curse you?”
He laughed, but it was joyless. “My Goddess, the one Thomas used to serve, the Morrigu. When Thomas started using death magic She cursed all Quigley men to die at thirty, the same age he was at the time. I think it was to give us incentive to defeat him.”
A Goddess and curses and…“You’re related him.”
“I am. And I don’t want to die. Not when I’ve just worked out what living is about.” He touched her cheek and brushed a soft kiss over her lips.
She wanted to melt. She was his reason to live, but she didn’t want to be, couldn’t be—he was related to Thomas and used magic like Thomas. Instead, she turned her head away slightly. “You said Thomas uses death magic, how is that different to you?”
Oskar’s hand fell away. “Witches draw magic from themselves and the environment around them, the Goddess or God they follow is a conduit.”
“You mean the devil?”
“No. Well, some witches follow him, but it’s not a good path to take. Thomas turned to a less wholesome source of power, stealing life from others.”
“But you used blood like him.” And all she had was Oskar’s word that he wasn’t the same as Thomas.
“Yeah, not something I usually do, but when you told me that was how he bound you, I knew that was how to unbind you. You’re taking this very well, most people kind of freak out a bit more.”
But she’d been writing all the odd stuff down in her book and forcing herself to remember for years. Oskar was making it make sense. It was almost a relief to know she wasn’t crazy and imagining things. “When you arrived and my mind cleared, I was able to piece things back together and make sense of my notes. Magic has been all around me for years… How many years?”
He hesitated and her stomach sank. She was right, it was more than the twenty or so she had marked on the wall. “I’m not sure, what was the last date you remember?”
What was the last date? She closed her eyes and remembered lying in bed with Charlie—the same room Oskar was now using—and talking about getting married and what they would do. The memory made her heart ache for the life that had slipped through her fingers.
“We were planning a June wedding…June nineteen twenty-seven. But it was only February and we wanted to wait before we told Thomas. I think Charlie knew Thomas would say no and he was worried.” Charlie had also been looking for other work. If he got an offer, he wanted her to come with him, ring or not. But she wouldn’t. It was one thing to have a secret affair, another to be living openly with a man she wasn’t married to. Charlie had stayed because of her. Guilt gave her heart an extra squeeze. Had she loved Charlie as much as he’d loved her? She must have, and yet it was no longer there, just ash remained, as if it had been burned up long ago.
Several heartbeats passed, the tension building with each one. “How long have I been here?” Thomas’s slave and toy.
“Over ninety years have passed.” Her knees gave out and Oskar pulled her up and held her against him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
Her eyes burned and tears fell. Her first in ninety years. If Oskar hadn’t been holding her, she’d have landed on the floor. As it was, her legs were trembling and she could hardly breathe. “How is that possible? I shouldn’t be alive.”
“He’s keeping you alive.”
She was his, the way he’d always wanted. It made sense now. Why he wanted to fix her and make sure she behaved. He didn’t want her running away with another gardener; he wanted her trapped here with him forever. Oskar’s shirt dampened and stuck to her face. Her tears trickled down her cheeks.
“What will happen? Will I die now?” She should be dead. Long dead.
“No, you will pick up your life from where it was put on hold.”
She shook her head. How was she supposed to do that? Her fiancé was dead and nearly a century had passed. “I’ve worked here since I was sixteen. I don’t have a life beyond these walls.” Everyone she once would’ve known would also be dead. She had no one.
&nbs
p; “You can make one. I’ll help you.”
How could he help when he was going to die? Was everyone she loved destined to be torn from her because of Thomas?
“If you beat the death curse.” She drew back to look up at him. He brushed the tears off her cheeks, and the concern was back in his eyes. The almost-hidden secret. What wasn’t he telling her? “What is it?”
“I know how to break the curse, but I need you.”
“More blood magic?” Her blood chilled at the idea of being part of some kind of a ritual. “Death magic?” He used blood magic to undo the necklace that was sealed with blood magic. Maybe he needed to kill someone to beat Thomas.
“Neither.” He sounded horrified. “I’m sworn not to use death magic. The Morrigu would never forgive me.”
“You speak to your Goddess?”
“Sometimes.” He gave her a half-smile.
Of course he did. However, he also knew how to use magic, so maybe he could. “Why do you need me?”
“I have to destroy his magic.” His hand on the back of her hip held her tighter for just a moment, as if he were worried she’d walk away. “If it wasn’t the only way, I wouldn’t ask.”
There was an edge in his voice that snagged on every word. This was going to be bad. “Just tell me.”
“The reason he doesn’t want you speaking to me is because he can sense the sparks of lust, they weaken him. When we had sex, I felt the power—but yours was trapped by the necklace, I think—I can use that energy to destroy the death magic.”
“We have to have sex?” That wasn’t so bad.
“He has to be there, and the suddenly released death magic has to be contained before he can grab it again.”
Her heart gave a sudden clench. “What do you mean?”
“I have to create life.”
She blinked, sure she’d misheard. “Create life…what…how?” Then the meaning fell into place. He had to have sex with her. The reason behind the sex was to make a baby. “How is that even possible?”