Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
Regina stood in her attic room, her spell prepared, as she watched her sister’s car—the car they were meant to share—pull up the drive.
She’d done everything she could to keep Violet in her life, and still her sister had left.
Yes, Regina’s siphoning spell had gone wrong.
She hadn’t intended for Tillie to die, though it did solve the problem of Tillie being in her house.
The moment it happened, Regina had felt it deep inside her.
With the sacrifice of Violet’s love—of Tillie’s life—the siphoning spell was complete.
Her sister’s power flowed through her. A hot, burning flame, brighter than any candle.
And with all that light, came shadows. A darkness had found its way inside Regina, twisting her thoughts, her hopes, her fears.
It wasn’t until the light that cast those shadows started to flicker almost thirteen years later that she’d realized her true mistake.
In casting her siphoning spell, she’d been careless.
She’d said she’d give up her magic if her spell didn’t return Violet to her, if things didn’t go back to the way they were before Tillie.
Those words had tangled up with thirteen years of grief on the anniversary of her parents’ death, and here she was, about to lose her magic forever if she didn’t cast the spell once more.
If she didn’t make a sacrifice that would allow her to continue to siphon another witch’s power.
Only, this time, all she had left to sacrifice was Violet, which meant she would have to siphon her daughter. She’d make sure Linda couldn’t leave the same way Violet had, because in thirteen years, she’d have to find a way to do it again.
Regina had everything ready. The brown candle to trap Linda. The black candle to siphon her sister. The doorknob to anchor the spell to Honeysuckle House, her unwilling accomplice. Regina held a match poised to strike as she listened for the sound of footsteps on her spiral staircase.
There!
Violet stood at the top of the landing, and just behind her, Linda.
“Hello, Violet.” Regina’s voice was love and loss and anger all rolled into one.
“Regina,” Violet said, her eyes sweeping over Regina’s altar. “What are you …?”
Something in Regina considered setting the match down and letting her magic die, but the darkness was louder than whatever love she still harbored for her sister. She struck the match and brought the tip first to the brown candle, then the black.
As the darker candle started to burn, there was a cracking of wood.
The floorboard beneath Violet snapped in two. She stumbled.
“Mom!” Linda shouted. “It’s not working! The curse is going to take her!”
Regina hated that her daughter had to see whatever would come next, but maybe it was better this way.
“You’re right,” Regina said, voice flat.
The window opened wide, and a breeze blew through the attic as if to put out the flame, but the candle only burned brighter.
Another board snapped. Then another, tipping Violet forward. As she fell, a jagged plank tilted up.
Regina almost looked away, but though Violet had abandoned her, Regina owed her sister this: a witness to her final moments.
The wood pierced Violet’s sternum. At first the sound was thick and wet. Then there was a popping of bone after bone as it tore through her rib cage and came out the other side, through her back.
Violet’s eyes shifted up to meet Regina’s. She opened her mouth, but whatever she wanted to say was lost as blood spilled from her lips and her eyes rolled up in her head.
“We have to call someone!” Linda cried from behind Violet.
“They won’t be able to help,” Regina said. “They probably won’t even come, not with how afraid they are of this place. We were too late, but don’t worry, these candles will protect the two of us.”
As the brown candle sputtered out, spent, Regina lifted two tarot cards from the table and held them over the last bit of fire from the black taper.
The flames started up the paper toward her fingertips.
Once they reached her hand, she dropped what remained of the cards into a small cast iron bowl. Then, the candle winked out.
Across the room, her daughter leaned forward, one hand clutching her heart as the heat in Regina’s chest—that flickering flame that had threatened to go out—steadied, and her magic was safe once more.