Chapter 26
twenty-six
MERRICK
I suspected, from everything Elizabeth shared on the matter of her sister Rachel, that the oldest Bonnivarde witch would be headache.
It seems I’ve underestimated her.
Rachel Bonnivarde is a full-on hemorrhoid.
“You summoned these… these demons?” She fumes at Elizabeth, who shrinks a bit under her sister’s militant glare. “Into our home? And you never thought to tell me?”
Thankfully, the youngest witch recovers quickly.
“These demons,” she replies, “along with Helena, are the reason we made it out of that fire alive.”
“A fire you started!”
“Oh, so I should’ve just followed Brendan’s orders? Let him rip out our magic, torture us for sport, and burn us at the stake? Good call, Rachel. No wonder everyone says you’re the smart one.”
“There are demons in our living room!” Rachel quite nearly explodes, and I make this observation without a trace of hyperbole.
“Would anyone like tea?” This, from Kate, who’s been mostly silent since Helena ferried us back to the Bonnivarde home.
After escorting the women inside, Helena informed us she’d be doing a bit of recon at the smoldering mansion.
Kate had hugged her and told her to stay safe; that was the last word she’d uttered until now.
I can’t speak to her usual personality, but the wan smile and glazed eyes speak to a state of shock that didn’t quite abate, even after my companions and I returned to our much less intimidating human forms.
“Tea is made from plants,” she continues tonelessly. “Yes. That’s what we need.”
With that strange observation, she putters into the kitchen. Oliver trails after her, offering assistance. If I had to guess at the change in his personality, I’d say the middle-born witch has engaged his protective instincts—a side he rarely shows.
“Rachel, I’m telling you,” Elizabeth says. “I didn’t summon them. Merrick, Oliver, and Warren are on our side. If you’ll just calm the fuck down for five seconds, I can explain—”
“Calm down? Calm down? We were nearly murdered by your ex-boyfriend and a demon wearing a spider suit! And you set them on fire! And Helena is a fucking bat!”
“To be fair,” Elizabeth says, “Helena spilled the bat beans that first night. You were just too busy sticking your head in the sand, as usual.”
“No.” Rachel’s pacing again, her body trembling—fear, latent adrenaline, anger. “You do not get to criticize me, little sister. You’re the one who—”
“Enough!” I rise from the sofa, where I’ve been confined since our arrival, trying to let the sisters work out their own issues.
Clearly, we need a new strategy. “Rachel, if I may be so bold… While you were busy denying the very existence of the portal and your family’s critical role in maintaining it, Elizabeth was making a concerted effort to connect with her magic and embrace her responsibilities.
In my professional opinion, which is both highly qualified and singularly well-regarded, she shows the greatest potential as a Bonnivarde witch—a line that’s been revered for centuries.
And while she credits my colleagues and me with tonight’s rescue, it was her quick thinking in summoning the imps and turning them against our captors that enabled our escape.
If not for the so-called little sister, all of us would’ve burned to ash.
Continue to underestimate and berate her, and perhaps the next time you find yourself in the clutches of a murderous cult, she’ll leave you to face them alone. ”
I stare her down, letting the words simmer, a tense silence broken only by the sudden screech of the kettle.
I expect that to be the end of it, but then she turns on Elizabeth with new fire.
“How long have you been studying witchcraft behind our backs?”
“Um… since… the whole time?”
“What? Lizzy!”
“I couldn’t help it! Mom’s ghost showed up in my room, along with our ancestor Calista, and—”
“Wait. Wait. Ghosts? So not only is our house full of demons, we’ve got ghosts in the mix too?”
Elizabeth recounts the story of her visions and spirit communications, her magical indoctrination, our lessons and work on the portal.
Rachel is not soothed by the explanation.
In fact, she looks positively inconsolable.
And outside, when the wind begins to howl, and the rain turns suddenly from a misty drizzle to a lashing beast, the academic in me can’t help but wonder if the elder witch’s innate powers have something to do with emotional control.
Even absent the grimoire’s physical presence, now that the witches have unlocked it, it’s only a matter of time before the elder two are forced to acknowledge the magic roiling within them. To accept it as part of their destiny.
“I don’t accept this,” Rachel says, her voice pitched high. “Listen to yourself, Lizzy. Listen to the words coming out of—”
“No, you listen.” Elizabeth gets to her feet, confronting Rachel head on, and I can’t help but marvel. Is this the same witch who felt compelled to hide her studies, to cover with a ruse about cleaning the basement because she feared the consequences of honesty?
“I get that you’re pissed at me,” my witch says, “and I accept that. I messed up, and now I have to figure out how to deal with the fallout. But you do not get to scold me for trying to do the right thing. Helena warned us about this, and I tried to bring you into the fold, and you refused to listen. About the magic, the portal, Killroy—”
“Oh, please. Don’t pretend you’re some fucking saint all of a sudden. You weren’t doing this out of altruism. You wanted the magic for yourself.”
“You didn’t even believe in it!” Elizabeth replies.
“That doesn’t change the fact that your motivation was greed, pure and simple. I know you, Lizzy. You saw magic as your ticket to easy street, and you went after that prize without another thought.”
I’m about to step in when Elizabeth lets out a long exhale and nods.
“You’re right, Rach,” she says softly. “That was my reason. I thought if I could figure out magic, I could use it to fix everything I screwed up in my life. I could pay off my debts, find a decent apartment with a landlord who didn’t sneak cameras into my bedroom.
I could mojo someone into hiring me for a decent job, or—even better—bail out of work entirely.
I could whip up a love potion, find a guy willing to ignore my baggage.
Maybe even magic up a whole fucking family, because I sure as Hell didn’t have one of my own. ”
Rachel takes a step back, as if the comment stung, but she doesn’t rush to deny it. “So what’s changed?”
“Um… everything?” Elizabeth smiles, the warm and genuine one I’ve come to know in our short time together. I wish I could hold onto it forever. To tuck it into my pocket, saved for my coldest, darkest nights in Hell.
“Everything’s different now,” she continues, glancing between her sisters.
“This is important, guys. This is real. And we’re at the center of it.
Demons exist. Some are neutral, some—like these three—are actually on our side.
And some are… well. Let’s just say chaos spiders and leave it at that.
And what happened tonight? That was just a preview of what’s coming. ”
Rachel drops into an armchair, the color bleaching from her skin.
“Okay,” she whispers, a pale imitation of her earlier rage. “Maybe I didn’t want to hear it before. But now… I just… I need someone to explain all of this to me. Please.”
“Elizabeth.” I lift a finger. “If I may?”
“Give her the TL;DR version,” Elizabeth says. “Rachel has a short attention span unless she’s the one doing the talking.”
Rachel lets out a huff, but says nothing, which I’m calling progress.
“I have no idea what TL;DR means,” I continue, “but I’ll infer from the context you wish me to sum up the situation in succinct terms. I’ll shall endeavor to do that to the best of—”
“Merrick!” Elizabeth circles her hand in the universal gesture for get on with it, already. A gesture I’m intimately familiar with.
I clear my throat. “Despite your desire to cling to your safe yet ultimately false notions, you are, in fact, witches. The last three in an ancient line tasked with maintaining the boundary between the earthly realm and that of demons, from whom your power originates. Given that you were denied a magical upbringing, I was sent here in the wake of your mother’s passing to assist with your education, ensure the demonic portal was stabilized, and ultimately…
” I chance a glance at Elizabeth, regret burning my throat.
I wanted to tell her about this privately.
To explain myself. To take her fury like an arrow to the chest, which is no less than I deserve, and beg on my knees for redemption.
Alas, there is no time. “…to negotiate the transfer of guardianship powers, along with the Bonnivarde grimoire, to the Council of Underworld Interests.”
I force myself to hold Elizabeth’s gaze, even as her eyes glaze with the sting of betrayal.
“Matthias,” she whispers. “You were supposed to sell us out to Matthias.”
Devil’s balls.
“At the time, we believed Matthias’s motives were…
well, I won’t say pure. But practical. The truth is, the portal has been degrading for some time.
It’s not entirely Evelyn’s doing, but she is partly to blame.
We wondered if she’d shifted to other priorities, or if the responsibility was simply too great a burden for one bloodline to manage.
Matthias thought demons could do a better job securing and monitoring the portal for threats, ensuring both Hell and the earthly realm could continue benefiting from ongoing witch and demonic relations. ”
“So it was all a con?” Elizabeth asks, the betrayal in her eyes shifting to an unyielding show of strength. A witch coming into her power, finally realizing just how much of it she truly possesses.
Honestly, I couldn’t be more proud.
I only wish that ire wasn’t directed at me.
“Not a con,” I say. “Merely a slight lack of transparency.”
“Tell me how that’s not a con.”