19. Willow
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The pendulum swings beneath a familiar clock face, marking the ebbing of time with every breath I draw. Restlessness settles into my bones as I turn, only to find hourglasses tumbling through the landscape of my mind like weeds. Granules of sand drift away as if to signify the seconds of my life.
Careful, child.
A shiver runs through me as Elizabeth’s voice reverberates off the walls around me, a constant echo.
Careful.
“Why?” I ask. “What are you trying to tell me?”
There’s a long, agonizing pause where I wonder if she’s gone, if her spirit vanished before she could finish her warning, as it sometimes does. But then I hear her faint voice as if it’s carrying on the breeze.
Protect yourself. They will come for you. You must… keep close… the chosen one.
The urgency in her request sends a ripple of terror through me, and again I ask why, but I know it’s already too late.
She’s gone, disappeared into a void, a place I can’t follow her.
It doesn’t stop me from calling out for her as fear wraps its ugly claws around me. I don’t know what she means. I need more. I need something else to grasp onto, but there’s nothing. I’m alone in this room full of clocks, sand slipping away through hourglasses, and soon the light dissipates like an ominous warning, leaving me in total darkness.
“Elizabeth!” I scream for her, clawing my way through the black, only to hit wall after wall. “Come back, please!”
“Willow.”
A different voice splinters my consciousness, distorting everything around me. I spin around, searching for the source, but I can’t see him.
“Willow,” he says again.
There’s an edge of concern in that voice, and the familiarity blankets me like a warm caress. It gives me a sense of safety I shouldn’t feel.
“Azrael.” I open my eyes, stirring from a tormented sleep.
“You were having a nightmare.” His thumb brushes over my jaw, his eyes as haunted as I feel.
“Oh,” I croak.
“What was it about?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I lie. “It’s all jumbled.”
He frowns, and I know he isn’t buying it. But I can’t tell him that I’ve had these dreams every night for as long as I could remember. Strangely, they’ve been absent since I started sleeping in his bed. I had wondered why, but I guess it doesn’t matter since they’ve returned with a vengeance.
Elizabeth’s warning still lingers in my mind as I try to untangle my thoughts. What was she trying to tell me?
“Better now?” Azrael tucks me against his body, his arm sheltering me.
I don’t want to admit just how much better it is. His warmth. His strength. The enemy at my back who’s starting to feel more like a comfort with each day that passes. I know I shouldn’t give in, but exhaustion weighs heavy on me as I nod anyway.
I drift back to sleep in his arms, and when I wake again, I’m groggy and disoriented. A glance behind me confirms Azrael is already gone, and I wonder where he goes or how much sleep he actually gets.
I’ve been searching the house, but I haven’t found the entrance to the dark wing Bec mentioned. The only one I’ve discovered is sealed off, but I suspect there must be another one somewhere. I intend to find it, and perhaps when I do, I will uncover some of Azrael’s secrets and what he hides behind those walls.
I check my phone, shocked when I see that it’s already afternoon. I must have fallen into a deep sleep after my nightmare. I rarely ever sleep this long.
The sound of the bedroom door opening startles me, and when I turn to meet Azrael’s gaze, he seems on edge.
“You’re awake,” he observes.
“Yes,” I murmur. “I didn’t realize the time.”
A moment passes, and I wonder if he’s going to mention the nightmare.
Instead, he delivers some unexpected news. “You have visitors.”
His tone betrays his discomfort over the notion, and immediately, I perk up.
“My family is here?”
“Your sisters.” He nods. “They’re waiting for you in the sitting room.”
I can’t hide my relief. It hasn’t been long since I last saw them, but I’ve missed them so much.
Azrael watches me scoop Fiona up and dart to the connecting door to my room.
“Willow.” His voice halts me.
I turn to look at him, and he seems conflicted. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s aware that he now has five Wildblood witches under his roof or if it’s something else. But whatever the case may be, he seems to decide against sharing his thoughts.
“Don’t be too long,” he mutters, turning his back on me as he takes his leave.
I smile to myself, secretly amused by his discomfort, and go about my preparations for the day as quickly as I can manage. It takes me fifteen minutes to make myself presentable, and while I’d been trying to be respectful of the differences between our families before, all bets are off after Salomé made us attend church.
I dress in a black leather mini skirt, a cropped velvet bustier top, and the same over-the-knee boots that I’m certain almost gave her a coronary. For the pièce de résistance, I pin Elizabeth’s onyx brooch in the center of the bodice. It’s an heirloom that’s been passed down to every chosen Wildblood woman, and I wear it proudly as a sign of our resilience. Our defiance. My message to Salomé is as clear as I can make it.
You will not change who I am.
Since our outing to The Society’s church, I’ve decided if she wants to shove her religion down my throat, she can have a taste of mine. I’ve been leaving things around the house for her to find. Crystals, bundles of dried herbs and flowers, vials of elixirs, and the most entertaining: a stuffed piece of felt that I fashioned to look like a voodoo doll.
I’m anxiously waiting for the moment that she finds them.
Feeling that same energy, I grab the Ouija board before I leave my room and head downstairs to join my sisters. I’m eager to see them, and I want them to know I’m okay.
I’m half-expecting a somber greeting when I reach the sitting room, but there’s nothing that could have prepared me for what I actually find.
Cordelia, Winter, and Aurora are all sitting together on one sofa, trying to stifle their laughter as Raven sages the room around them. Most notably, she’s focusing on the area around Emmanuel, who happens to be sitting on the largest chair, watching her with disdain.
“Raven,” I squeak out. “What are you doing?”
“What?” She blinks at me innocently. “This room was full of bad energy. I’m trying to dispel it, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my lips, which only seems to further sour Emmanuel’s mood. But truthfully, Raven has a point. What is he even doing in here?
“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Emmanuel says gruffly, rising to his feet.
But he doesn’t go, not right away. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes move over Raven, darkness flickering in their depths. It sends a chill through me because I recognize that look all too well. It was the same expression Azrael wore when he first set eyes upon me and realized I was his chosen Sacrifice.
“Raven,” I bite out.
She doesn’t seem to hear me because her eyes are locked on his, a strained expression on her face.
“Raven,” I say again.
This time, my voice seems to sever the connection, bringing them both back to the room around them. Emmanuel’s jaw ticks, and he dips his head in lieu of a goodbye as he takes his leave.
“Willow!” Cordelia flings herself at me before I can process what had just happened, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing so tight I can scarcely breathe. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too.” Tears prick my eyes as an unexpected wave of emotion takes me captive.
It isn’t long before they are all taking turns hugging me, even though they know I’m not a hugger. When it’s Raven’s turn, I give her a sharp look before whisper-hissing in her ear.
“What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” she grumbles. “You’ll have to ask him. The man is obviously certifiable.”
“Why was he even in here?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugs as I release her, her eyes looking everywhere but at me.
Something about this whole situation seems off, and I don’t like it.
“Stay away from him,” I warn her. “He’s dangerous.”
Even as I say it, I don’t know if that’s actually true. But still, he’s a Delacroix, which is reason enough to be wary.
“It’s fine, Willow. I want nothing to do with him.” Her eyes flicker to the Ouija board beneath my arm. “What are you doing with that old thing, anyway?”
I smirk, amusement coloring my voice as I reply, “What do you think I’m doing with it?”
“Fucking with them?” She laughs.
I nod, not even trying to deny it. My sisters and I only ever played with the Ouija board once, just to see if anything happened. It’s not something we actually use as a divination tool, but I brought it here because I suspected I might have a use for it.
“I figured I’ll just leave it here for them.” I set it on the coffee table. “They can wonder what we were up to in here.”
“Oh wait, even better.” Winter digs around inside her hobo bag, retrieving a piece of paper and a pen before she starts to scribble on it.
We all wait to see what it is she’s doing before she sets the paper on top of the board, bold black runic symbols scratched into the surface. They are perfectly harmless, but the Delacroixes don’t need to know that.
Cordelia is the first to burst out laughing, and soon, we’re all in stitches. I can just imagine Azrael’s face when he sees it. But even better will be Salomé’s mouth twisting like she just sucked on a lemon.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I tell them.
“Really?” Aurora asks, her voice tinged with concern.
A somber mood settles over the room as I shake my head, trying my best to appease them.
“No, not really. I was just kidding.”
“So, you’re okay then?” Winter presses. “They haven’t been… terrible?”
“No,” I admit. “They haven’t.”
I’m not going to tell them about Salomé. I don’t want them to worry. So instead, I launch into a conversation about Bec and mention that I’d like to get her in to see our family doctor, although I’m not quite sure how I’ll manage such a feat under Salomé’s watchful gaze. Bec doesn’t leave the house other than to go to church, I suspect.
My sisters tell me they’ll help me figure something out, and the conversation seems to flow easily from one topic to the next. Cordelia gives me the shirt she made me, and Winter gives me a new crystal necklace she wrapped. Before I realize it, hours have passed, and it’s almost time for dinner.
I don’t want them to go, but they seem to be aware that staying isn’t an option. I can only imagine the hell that would break loose if Salomé had to sit down to dinner with all of us.
“Will you come to visit Mom and Dad soon?” Aurora asks. “They want to see you.”
I suspect our parents aren’t aware of their visit here today. If they knew, they’d be sick with worry.
“As soon as I can,” I assure them.
They all give me more hugs, preparing themselves for a goodbye none of us want. But when they linger, faces drawn, I know there’s something else they came to tell me. It isn’t until Raven removes a handful of letters from her bag reluctantly that I realize what it is.
“They’re increasing,” she tells me quietly, handing them over. “These are all just from the last few days. They’ve been watching the house. They know you’re gone but don’t know where.”
“They’re threatening us,” Aurora adds. “All of us.”
I glance up at her in horror, helplessness settling over me.
“Don’t worry.” Raven tosses Aurora a chastising look. “We’ll be okay. We’re being careful.”
Guilt sinks into the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. “This is all my fault.”
“It’s not,” Raven argues. “You know they would have come for us regardless. They’re demented.”
“No,” I whisper. “If I hadn’t been so naive?—”
“This isn’t your fault,” Winter reiterates Raven’s sentiment. “We’re a sisterhood, remember? They fuck with one of us, they fuck with all of us.”
I know they’re trying to make me feel better, but it doesn’t. The Disciples might have come for us either way merely for the fact that we were rumored to be witches, but it was me who put a target on our backs. The group is just a reborn version of the same bloodthirsty Puritans who committed murder under the guise of religion. I didn’t know they were watching us. I’d had no idea that the boy who’d seemed so interested in me at sixteen was one of them. I’d ignored my intuition, and I allowed myself to be swayed by his charms, only to discover he was the devil in disguise.
Now, that man is pacing his prison cell like an animal, waiting for the day he can take his revenge. The horrific truth is, I don’t know how to stop him.
“Don’t go anywhere alone,” I plead with my sisters. “And take protection with you. Even if it’s just in the yard.”
“We will,” they promise me. “Same goes for you.”