Chapter 34
34
ROMAN
“ I don’t think we should go back to my place,” I say as soon as Josephine and I settle into my car. She shakes off the huge flakes of snow clinging to her hair.
“We can’t just leave Penelope there.”
Josephine’s mother is a nightmare. Mine has her own set of problems, but Francesca Delvaux takes it to the next level. Josephine couldn’t see from the angle her mother was standing, but the fucking woman put her hand on my belt. The delusion is astounding. That doesn’t mean she isn’t dangerous. She’s using one daughter to force the hand of another. The rage I have on behalf of Jo and Penelope grows by the minute.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Ambrose. “Are you entertaining?” I ask in lieu of a hello.
“I have a sparkling personality. I’m the life of the party. Of course, I’m entertaining.”
“I mean, do you have company?” I turn on my wipers to clear off the snow, but it’s coming down so hard it doesn’t make a difference. My headlights shine out into a flurry of white.
“Sadly, no. I’m a lonely bachelor tonight.”
“Not for long. Call the others. Have Odie bring Penelope with her. We’re all meeting at your house.” Josephine watches me, but I keep my eyes on the road.
“Oh good, a party. I’ll get some snacks out.”
“Just make the call.”
I hang up and turn to Josephine. She’s gnawing on her thumbnail again. “Can you call your friends? I have a feeling we’re going to need strength in numbers for whatever happens next.”
Josephine straightens her shoulders. “I was trying to keep them out of this mess.”
“I know, but I think this might be bigger than your family.”
Josephine sighs wearily. “Me too.” She picks up her phone and begins making calls. I keep my eyes on the increasingly treacherous roads.
Ambrose lives in a sprawling mansion on the edge of town. The dark house is built in the Tudor revival style, nestled into acres of natural wood. We dubbed it the chateau when we were kids and the name stuck. Ambrose’s parents live out of the country half the time, and when they are back in Mystic Hollows, they often stay at a more modern home they built about ten years ago. So the chateau is officially his. The winding driveway, already covered in a layer of snow, circles a statue of the original Roth ancestor that helped found Mystic Hollows.
Ambrose is waiting at the front door when I pull up in the circular driveway as close to the front door as possible. I grab the book out of Josephine’s suitcase and the two of us sprint to get inside and out of the snow.
“Remind me again, why do we live this far north?” Ambrose drawls as he shuts the door against a fierce gust of wind.
Josephine looks around the chateau with wide eyes. The house definitely has a strong aesthetic. There is dark wood everywhere. The beams in the ceiling, the banister on the stairway, and even the walls in the hall have wood panels.
I guide Josephine into the living room, which is massive enough to host a lavish party. Ambrose has certainly taken advantage of that in the past. The fireplace mantle is taller than me. Rows of windows are spaced out on the far wall, reaching up to the nearly fourteen-foot ceiling.
Odie and Penelope are already sitting on one of the couches. Odie waves as we walk in.
“Did everything go okay? What did you find out?” Penelope squirms in her seat.
“As soon as everyone is here, we’ll tell you,” Josephine says.
The sound of the front door slamming alerts us to another arrival. Ambrose returns with Ava, Stellan, and Piper.
“Do the Salvatore brothers live here?” Ava gapes at the tapestries on the wall and the enormous Serapi carpets beneath our feet, covering the dark wood floors.
Bram walks in behind Josephine’s friends, removing his coat and shaking off the snow.
“Who?” My brother’s giving Ava a once-over. She’s wearing a pair of sweats that are too big and a puffy jacket that’s fit for an Antarctic exploration.
“Oh yes, Damon and Stephen are my nephews.” Ambrose throws an arm around Ava’s shoulder, and Bram glares at him.
Ava chuckles and rolls her eyes. She crosses the room and sits down next to Penelope, giving her a high five.
Ambrose claps his hands and then rubs them together. I flick my finger to start a fire in the fireplace. This giant room is hard to keep warm on a good day. During a blizzard, it’s nearly impossible.
“Looks like the whole gang is here, including junior detectives.” Ambrose gives Penelope a small bow and then turns to me. “The only thing missing is the reason we’ve been gathered together. Not that I don’t enjoy a little mystery.”
Josephine plucks the book from my hands and holds it up, gaining everyone’s attention. She only shrinks a little before going on to explain what we found out from Morty and the fact that her mother was waiting at her apartment.
Penelope cracks her knuckles. “I’m not going back to their house.”
Josephine smiles at her sister, her fingers flexing. I may not be able to feel anyone’s touch, but at least I’m able to offer physical comfort to someone. It’s clear how much it pains Josephine not to reach out and console her sister.
“I know. We’ll figure it out, okay. I promise.” Josephine licks her lips, and I can practically read her thoughts. We have no plan and have no idea how to keep that promise.
“What’s in this book?” Bram stares at the leather-bound book in Josephine’s hands.
“I don’t know. We haven’t had a chance to look at it yet.” Josephine moves to the table between the two couches and kneels in front of it. She opens the book and sets it down. Everyone gathers around. I wrap my arm around her waist, doing my best to keep anyone else from accidentally touching her. Josephine’s friends are practiced in this, but mine aren’t as alert. I snap at Bram to back off when he gets too close.
The pages of the book are yellowed with age, but like many magical tomes there must be a protection spell on it. As old as it is, it’s still in good condition. Josephine flips to the first page, and there’s a date in the corner: November 31, 1706. The name Ashenvale is embossed on the cover.
“What does it say?” Ava leans forward, nudging her way past Bram, who is apparently taking up too much space. He looks down at the mousey woman with a frown. Then he bumps his shoulder back into her, earning himself a glare.
Josephine scans the page. “It’s just a spell. One for”—she clears her throat—“enhanced sexual performance.” She flips the next page and then another.
“The guy was really obsessed with his dick,” Ava says as she makes a face at the book.
“Is there anything in there besides penis enhancement spells.” Bram pinches his brow.
Josephine continues to flip through the pages until she reaches a spell for siphoning magic. “That’s why Morty gave me this book.”
Josephine closes her eyes with a sigh. I rub her back, my hand closing on the nape of her neck and squeezing. She leans into my side, and I’m stupidly proud that I can be there for her.
“What else is in there?” Piper’s quiet voice breaks through the silence.
Josephine resumes flipping through the pages until she reaches the end of the written spells.
“This looks like a diary entry.” Ambrose cocks his head, squinting as he examines the tiny handwriting.
“Can you read it?” Stellan questions.
Josephine leans closer, her nose almost literally stuck in the book, and starts to read. “We are utterly ruined. The whore may be dead, but she has damned us all.”
“That’s not at all fatalistic.” Ambrose moves to sit on the arm of the couch, crossing his legs at the ankles as he listens.
Ava impatiently flips to the next page. “What else?”
“This entry is three weeks later. ‘We thought it was temporary. That we could find a way to best the bitch from beyond the grave. Cornelius is barely able to leave his bed, and Euphemia suffers from a devastating case of memory loss. She cannot even recall her own name. All because some spoiled bitch claimed to have a fated bond.”
“It’s the curses,” Piper whispers.
“And some really awful names.” Ambrose shakes his head.
“Yes, yes, everything is horrible, and they’re all going to suffer. Is that it?” Bram snaps, losing his patience. There’s nothing in here that we don’t already know except for the part about the fated bonds. I’ve rarely heard mention of that kind of magic. Although this is the closest to a primary source I’ve ever read concerning our town’s curses.
Josephine flips through a few pages and then gasps.
“The Briar bitch has ruined our coven. I suppose in the end, she got her revenge, but at least we took her and her lover down first.”
“The bastard is even smug in his diary.” Ava scoffs, and Josephine continues.
“We have found a solution to our problem. But too many people know about the curses, and there are some who would object to our remedy. It has been decided that we will form two new covens. Half of the founding families will sit on the council of each coven. The witch’s grimoire will be split. Each coven will get a piece so we can safeguard our secrets. I hope the bitch is burning in hell while we laugh down at her.”
There’s a beat of silence before everyone starts talking at once.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“What secrets?”
“I don’t know. But it sounds like the covens have the answers.” Josephine looks up, a dangerous glint in her eyes.