Chapter Four #2
‘Millicent summoned many dark entities. Whenever Betty told me to hide, I’d know that Millicent was up to something not so good.
I’d head straight to my room, and the house’s magick would keep any entities out.
Though they left shortly after being summoned, some were able to return via whatever rip she made in the veil between our realm and theirs. ’
As they began walking down the hall toward Betty, the spirit faded from sight.
‘So this house, amazing though it is, wasn’t always a safe place to be for you growing up,’ Kage surmised.
Stopping in front of the last door in the hall, Emberlyn confirmed, ‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘What is this room?’ asked Paisley.
‘The master.’ Emberlyn twisted the knob, pushed open the door and stepped inside. She double-blinked, caught off-guard.
‘Ooh, I love all the different shades of deep purple with splashes of teal,’ said Paisley as she pushed past her. ‘It gives the room a moody, witchy look. Totally. Adoring. The vibe.’
‘Look, there’s a reading nook built into the turret,’ Kage said to his sister. ‘My God, the woman had a lot of books.’
Paisley gasped in delight. ‘Aw, there’s a little velvet footstool and built-in sofa in the nook – I could sit here for hours and just be. Oh, and those silk drapes are fabulous.’
‘They are,’ Emberlyn said absently, skimming her fingers over the weathered French dresser. It was constructed of the same rose wood as that of the nightstand, wardrobe, four poster bed and dressing table.
Moving further into the room, she ran her gaze over the nearby shelf. A gold candlestick stood either end of it, bordering a collection of crystals, stones and ornaments.
Kage sank onto the chaise longue that was propped up against the foot of the bed. ‘Your grandmother had good taste.’
Emberlyn lightly fingered the pearl earrings sitting on a gold trinket dish on the nightstand. ‘This is my stuff.’
‘What?’ he asked, smoothing a hand over the elegant lacy bedding.
‘This is my stuff. All of it. The furnishings and knickknacks, I mean.’
Paisley turned away from the ornate cheval mirror. ‘You’re saying Millicent moved your things in here?’
‘No doubt using magick, yes.’ Emberlyn let her gaze touch on the glass-art lamp that she’d wanted to take with her when she moved out. Millicent had refused to allow it. ‘It belongs to the house, not you,’ she’d said.
Kage sat up. ‘That’s crazy. And confusing. Unless she knew her time was almost up.’
‘By the looks of it, she did.’
‘Maybe she foresaw it,’ Paisley suggested.
‘Could be the case.’
Kage rose from the chaise longue. ‘What do you think she did with all her own stuff?’
‘She probably relocated most of it, if not all, to the spooky spare room. It’s the one place I’m highly unlikely to go, and even in death she’d want her things left untouched.’ Emberlyn shuddered just thinking about the room.
Kage twisted his mouth. ‘For her to have kept everything from your old bedroom all these years, she’d either known very early on that you’d one day be living here again, or she’d hoped you would.’
Emberlyn nodded. ‘It would appear so.’
Paisley shyly raised a hand. ‘Since you’re moving in here, can I have your apartment?’
Emberlyn felt her lips curve. ‘Sure.’
Her friend gave a little clap. ‘Yay! My journey to work just got much shorter.’
It had, since Emberlyn lived above her place of business – which also happened to be where Paisley worked, along with a couple of others.
Those ‘others’ were currently holding the fort.
‘I won’t be able to pack all of my stuff tonight, but I can pack the basics and go on a quick grocery shop so I have clothes and essentials to keep me going. ’
‘Can I use the bathroom first?’ asked Paisley.
Emberlyn pointed at a door. ‘The en suite is right through there.’
Kage jabbed his thumb behind him. ‘Can I keep nosing around?’
‘Sure.’ Once the twins had walked off, Emberlyn sank onto the turret’s sofa. Which was right when she heard a feline chirp.
She looked up to see a black cat lounging atop the wardrobe. ‘Hey, Lucie.’ Emberlyn made cooing noises, trying to lure her down, but she didn’t move. ‘All right, be like that.’
Not all witches had a familiar. They didn’t always seek you out.
Emberlyn could still remember the day Lucie had turned up at the manor.
When her grandmother had welcomed the feline with a grin, Emberlyn had originally thought Millicent meant to use her in some sort of ritual sacrifice.
On the contrary, she’d taken care of Lucie in a way she hadn’t others.
Though, much as she’d generally left Emberlyn to her own devices, there had been times when Millicent spent what she considered ‘quality time’ with her.
Their activities had included things like graverobbing, jinxing land, planting forbidden herbs and temporarily turning the lake to blood just to fuck with people.
While many were wrong in branding her Millicent’s double, there were some traits she’d picked up from her grandmother.
Emberlyn wasn’t concerned with what others thought of her; didn’t look to them for acceptance, approval or validation.
And fulfilling their expectations was nowhere on her list of things to do.
Plus, yes, she was equally vengeful and more than a little ruthless.
But she differed from her grandmother in one very distinct way: in connecting with her magick, Emberlyn embraced all parts of herself – the good, the bad, the ugly. Millicent had only ever embraced the latter two.
Hearing a howl ring out in the distance, Emberlyn looked out of the window, feeling her skin pebble. And, yet again, she found her thoughts sliding to Michael.
To what might have become of him.
Grabbing one of the fringed pillows beside her, Emberlyn hugged it to her.
As descendants of the original werewolf, Chilgrave werewolves were quite different from those found in other parts of the world.
Well built, with shaggy black hair and red eyes, they looked somewhere between a black shuck and a hellhound.
They also had three forms: the human, the wolf and the In-between.
In the latter form, they were a beast that was both man and wolf. They’d be ruled by their animal instincts, their humanity buried deep. Various things could cause the transformation, such as overwhelming emotions or full moons.
Generally, the transformation was only temporary. They’d be human again before the night was over. But certain things could hamper that – grief, pain, guilt, a need to escape, on and on it went. And so they’d turn Rabid.
Like Michael had.
He’d done as other Rabid had before and after him – he’d fled to Bloodhill. Many Rabid inhabited the seemingly endless forested area that bordered the town. They were savage and had zero control over their lust to kill.
Some occasionally came into town, particularly on full moons, so there was a curfew at such times. They’d otherwise attack, mindless in their thirst for blood and violence.
People didn’t kill them unless necessary. They aimed to capture them, where possible. Because the Rabid could ‘come back’ from that state. But not always. It generally depended on how long they’d been that way.
Given that the Rabid were prone to turn on each other, Emberlyn didn’t even know if Michael was still alive. But he was gone either way, really – he’d been Rabid too long, his mental processes would be permanently affected.
People in her position typically declared their mating null and void – breaking the mating tie, as the saying went – after five years.
Though she’d moved out of the home they’d shared twelve months ago, she’d waited the extra year before making it all official.
She’d also dipped her toe in the dating pool.
That hadn’t resulted in more than a brief fling or two. But it was something.
Once again, a distant howl rang out. Maybe it was one of Ripper’s wolves – they were no doubt thrilled to have their land back.
His clan was definitely the toughest of the three. Seriously tough. Driving through Ashwood, where the majority of the clan lived . . . it was like entering a movie set for lumberjack porn.
Genuinely, they were badass. You could send a few out into the wilderness and they’d likely build you a village. And they did what the other clans and the coven wouldn’t – they braved Bloodhill to hunt meat for the town. Meat they sold at their butcher’s shop.
They also ran the brewery, tattoo studio, blacksmiths, diner, mechanic shop, a bar, a restaurant and a landscaping business.
All things considered, they would make great neighbors. Especially to someone with her current problems. Providing that their Alpha didn’t intend to be a dick to her, of course.
She didn’t see why he would, really. There were no frills with Ripper – he was blunt and to the point, but he wasn’t an asshole needlessly. And she hadn’t done anything to him.
The witch who’d targeted his clan all those years ago, though?
She’d caused an epically bad situation. As such, Emberlyn could totally understand if he’d keep his distance from her.
Especially since she’d cultivated an image of herself that wouldn’t exactly endear her to people.
He’d have no reason to assume that not all the rumors about her were true.
She didn’t need people to like or approve of her, she just wanted them to leave her be. If he’d extend that courtesy to her, she’d appreciate it. She had enough drama coming from other angles.
On that note, thanks for this, Grams. Thanks a fucking lot.