Chapter 20 #3
“What’s that?” I asked distractedly, glancing toward the door—the room was modestly sized, but now my escape seemed impossibly far. She was acting very strange, and I still wasn’t sure if I trusted her.
What would possess Miles to leave me someone I’d only just met? He didn’t even know her very well, for that matter. While she might have played an important role in our world at some point, she was now a hermit.
People did strange things when they lived without human contact. Hadn’t Miles ever watched Castaway ?
“Stop fidgeting,” Kathleen said, pointing a dripping wooden spoon in my direction without looking up. “That worried expression of yours is contagious. You’re even making me nervous, and I need a clear head for this. These are the final moments.” Then she returned to stirring her potion.
I bit my lip, my heartbeat picking up. How could she know what I was thinking?
What was she working on, anyway? Whatever it was smelled sickly sweet—like caramel left to burn.
It reminded me of fairytales. Specifically, the kind with suspicious grandmothers and hot ovens.
I was starting to grow fond of Kathleen. But I hadn’t ruled anything out.
But what to do? We’d talked about quintets, my biological mother, even my adoptive parents. But never her team.
“Can you tell me about your quintet?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could second-guess it. The rising heat in my face had nothing to do with the heavy, warm air trapped in Kathleen’s cabin.
The query shocked her, too—she’d paused briefly before slowly lowering the lid and gazing at me.
“My quintet?” she asked, gray brows lifting and eyes darkening with memories.
“Yes…” I pulled at the hem of my shirt and twisted a fraying edge between my pointer finger and thumb. “Do you all get along?”
Her gaze traveled over me for a moment, lips pursing in thought.
For a long second, I wondered if she understood what I meant.
Then she sighed, setting the spoon on the table beside her project.
“No,” she said, wiping her hands on her skirts.
“Not all of us. You have different personalities being forced to work together, and sometimes individuals might never agree. In my quintet, Blake and Gregory don’t like each other. ”
Dr. Stephens? Well, it was true that he was very unagreeable, but who was Blake?
“Who is in your quintet?”
“Blake MacClure is our shifter—a werewolf. He’s in charge of the werewolves in this part of the country. Then Gregory,” she answered, her attention wandering toward the window. “And me, and Joseph Kohler—he’s Julian’s grandfather. Joe likes causing calamity.”
“That’s four,” I whispered, nodding. I’d already met Detective Kohler, but he’d seemed the serious sort.
“We’re the only ones left,” she said shortly. “Michael Abernathy was our onmyoji. He held us together and kept Gregory and Blake in line, but he’s been gone for a long time.”
“Gone?”
She didn’t elaborate. Instead, she loosened the tie around her hair, and waves of gray fell over her shoulders and down her arms as the shadows in the room began to lengthen.
“For my part, I was friends with my quintet. I was closest to Gregory, in particular. And they, in turn, respected my need for privacy.” She leaned more heavily on the table, and it almost seemed she was out of breath.
“But, from the beginning, I never wanted to be an officer—let alone an Er Bashou. Being an Elder is a huge responsibility. But I had no choice but to join. I’d lost a bet against the fae. ”
I blinked at her—I’d leaned forward without realizing. Once I’d caught myself, I fisted my hands at my side.
She was fine. She didn’t need help. She’d ask, right?
Guilt and anxiety twisted in my stomach, and a line of sweat began to drip down my spine.
If I were a more caring person, I’d have no trouble rushing to her and offering my aid.
But old people and I had never seen eye to eye—their blanket of authority was hard to ignore, and my nerves could never handle it.
Or maybe I was just a coward. But doing the wrong thing was better than doing nothing, right? I couldn’t hurt her.
I was never serious about shoving her into the fire.
Kathleen continued to move over the potion, and I watched, heart in my throat, as the beginnings of the moon began to peek around the edge of the window. Darkness came on quickly these days—or maybe that was my anxiety.
“Um…” I began—it was so hot, and I began to pull at the neck of my shirt. I returned my attention to her, trying to bury the growing dread. Had it become that late?
Why was Miles taking so long? “Can I—”
Kathleen tossed a handful of herbs into the pot with a flourish. The reaction was instantaneous, turning the purple into red, and the smoke cleared.
“What are you making?” I asked, even though she’d ignored Miles when he asked the same question. “What was that?”
“Mandrake,” she replied, stepping back with a heavy breath and leaning on the table. “It’s ready, except for the blood. I’d even added the artifact. Now, for him to stop being so pious. Remind him that Jonathon is playing with him.”
I moved toward her hesitantly. “What is it?”
Did witches often use their own blood in their potions?
She heaved a sigh. “I need to lie down now.” She slumped forward, and I moved to her, bracing her weight over my shoulder.
She was surprisingly heavy, and with every one of her shaky inhales, I wished that, for once, Miles’s laziness had overridden his desire to help others.
Why couldn’t he have chosen to milk his injury? He should be here. But instead, I was alone with an ailing woman with an apparent medical emergency.
We lumbered toward the small, tidy bed, and my labored breathing had nothing to do with her weight.
“Are you okay?” I asked, forcing myself forward with every heavy step.
“No,” she answered, and my stomach turned to lead. “But that’s expected.”
“It is?” My voice squeaked as she crawled into the bed and pulled the covers over her lap.
She laid down, grimacing, and the action transformed her from a small but fiery personality to someone frail and delicate. “I’d been putting this off for a while.”
So help me, this had better not be something life-threatening. That would be my luck.
“I’m dying, Bianca,” she almost whispered, and my heart turned to stone.
Goddamn it .
She’d spoken the dreaded words with a sigh. “I’d been waiting for a sign. Your arrival only validated what I already knew.”
No , no, no… This couldn’t happen right now. Not while we were alone. And if she knew this was coming, why in the world would she send Miles away?
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud until she turned her attention back to me.
“Miles isn’t meant to be here,” she answered, reaching for my hand. “It’s supposed to be you.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice squeaking. “Because I’m a medium?” But I was no good with dying people.
I glanced toward the door, but unfortunately, Miles did not burst through the entrance. “Do you need anything? Do you want me to get—”
“No,” she interrupted, turning slightly to me. The lines of pain on her face had softened, replaced with smooth tranquility. “Everything is fine, and my work is completed.”
“W-what?” I stuttered as one of my worst nightmares came to life. If she wasn’t being dramatic, which I highly doubted due to her graying complexion, then she was telling the truth.
How could this happen? I’d promised myself I would never be in this position again.
Yet, here we were.
“Are you sure…” My words trailed as the room grew darker, lit only by the dimming light of the hearth. But this time, it wasn’t fear that had silenced my words but the look in her eyes.
Her attention had drifted toward the window, and the air was thick with the weight of heavy longing.
Suddenly, my panic no longer mattered.
Her grip, which had been slowly growing weaker, tightened suddenly. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” she said. Her eyes had turned sharp and clear again, a deep, golden brown—so much like Jonathon that my chest ached.
As much as I tried to act as though I wasn’t bothered, over the years, I’d started to love my dysfunctional and misinformed adoptive parents. Could I ever forgive them? Probably not. But with his eyes staring back at me, it was hard to remain indifferent.
He’d mostly been indifferent and awkward, but there had been moments where he’d tried . The two of us would sneak WWE episodes while Abigail was occupied in her gardens, and then there was the way he’d slip candy into my lunch every Friday morning before I went to school.
And sometimes—unless I was utterly imagining this—it felt as though he watched me with a painful mixture of fear and something more that I couldn’t recognize.
I always assumed it was because they regretted adopting me.
But it was the same expression Kathleen was giving me now—one of expectation.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, the resignation in her expression suffocating me.
Her posture tightened, and her breathing labored, almost as if the rising moon were siphoning away her life.
But if it was so painful, why couldn’t she wait? I didn’t want her to die, but if it was going to happen anyway… She shouldn’t hurt herself trying to talk to me now.
After all, it wasn’t like I couldn’t communicate with her after.
“You don’t have to—” I began, but she cut me off.
“I won’t be able to talk to you again,” she wheezed, the lines around her eyes deepening. “At least not now. You’re not ready yet.” She moved her free hand to the chain around her neck. She pulled at it, and a ring peeked into view.
“Take this.” Kathleen tugged at the ring with short, square fingers. Now that I could see it more clearly, I could place the red ruby, capturing the light of the fire. “Take this and remember: No matter what you do, you can’t hide.”
“What?” I closed my hand around hers—her skin was already growing colder.
“I ran away.” She breathed, skin growing paler.
“I abandoned my family and friends to escape, but it didn’t change anything.
But now I can make things right. Promise to make Miles take the potion—he’ll need it.
And, please, give this ring to Gregory.” She pushed her hand against mine. “I’ve been holding on to it for him.”
“The ring?” I asked, looking at our conjoined hands. “But what—”
“Michael read my fortune,” she interrupted me again.
But I doubted she even heard me this time.
Her expression was already fading, and her focus seemed scrambled.
“I thought I could outsmart it, but it wasn’t worth it.
And because of that, I’ve missed out on the positive parts of life.
I missed seeing my grandchildren grow up. ”
My heart was thundering in my ears, and panic remained at bay by only a breath.
“It’s fine,” she repeated, though it wasn’t. “I knew this was coming from the moment I found out who you were. But I’m not scared. I’m ready for what’s next. And honestly, it makes sense—that things needed to happen this way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He could have just told me it’d be you .” Her hand shook as she touched my face, and her expression softened as the corners of her pale lips lifted slightly. “He had to know. He’s such a fucking asshole.”
“Who?” I asked. “Who is…”
But with a shuddering breath, she stilled. The air grew cold, and a light breeze passed through me. Her sudden death came with no lingering farewell. I was rendered speechless…
This small, frail woman—and her last words were such vile curses. I couldn’t believe it.
What if my adoptive father asked what she’d said on her deathbed? How could I ever tell him the truth?
“Kathleen?” I breathed. Dropping her hands, I stood. She had to say something else, anything else. I couldn’t let this be the end.
I turned, peering into the darkest corners of the room. My anxiety raced through me as the long seconds ticked by with no change.
She was dead, but I could see spirits.
Besides, she had unfinished business. We weren’t done. I had no idea what she had been trying to tell me.
And I had no idea how to help Miles.
The fire flickered low, also barely holding on to its life. Where was Miles?
“Kathleen?” My throat was closing, trapping my rising scream. Usually, people didn’t want a ghost to haunt them, but that was what I needed now. “Where are you? You can come out.”
But she didn’t come back.
This was wrong. The boys told me spirits were supposed to answer me when I called, so why wasn’t Kathleen listening?
Was I not waiting long enough? How long was ‘long enough’ before a newly departed manifested as a ghost?
What was I supposed to do now?