37. Bella – Meeting a Witch
Chapter thirty-seven
Bella – Meeting a Witch
Morning arrives gray and storm-heavy over Bloodhaven Cove. The island version of morning involves fog thick enough to emotionally burden a person.
I was so exhausted, I slept like a rock despite everything going on.
After a shower, I walk down to the clinic at first light to check on Finn, who called in Betty to help.
Tom has been kept sedated. Lena is stable but also lightly sedated. The webbing has spread a little but she also seems to be under control. They are not exhibiting Dr. Mercer’s stage 3 symptoms, yet. Silas seems stable but has been happy to remain at the clinic for now.
Darius arrives just after sunrise, with five coffees and pastries from Molly in hand.
“I know humans need coffee like we need blood,” Darius mumbles as he arrives.
“My hero,” Finn exclaims, taking one from his hand and taking the others to Silas, Lena and Betty.
“You know how to make friends and influence people, Darius,” I smile.
“You look … refreshed,” he says.
“Nothing like some good sleep.” I take a sip of my coffee and admit it never tasted better. Especially because Darius is here.
Charlie lifts his head immediately from the couch near the window. Ah, he says. The dramatic cliff vampire bore gifts.
“You say that like I’m a problem,” Darius says, looking directly at Charlie.
Charlie blinks at him. Did the vampire hear me, too? Huh.
Darius smiles.
Well, you bore gifts in an expensive coat, Charlie repeats. Kudos to you.
I choke on coffee while Darius’s mouth twitches faintly.
“When did that change?”
“I could always hear Charlie. Another one of my mysteries,” he smiles.
“You're full of surprises! Tell me, how is Marcus doing?” I ask.
“We’re keeping him sedated which has slowed down the spread…”
“Good. I have news! The ghost of Dr. Mercer visited. He gave me more information including where to find another journal of information.”
“A reasonable evening, then. Anything valuable.”
He moves closer while I gather Dr. Mercer’s journal from the table. And immediately the room changes again.
Every single time he’s close to me, I become painfully aware of him. The size of him. The calmness. The feel of him. The restraint wrapped around something dangerous underneath. The desire. His soul.
I hate how much I notice it, but I like the fluttering throughout my body. I admit it. I hand him the journal.
“You need to see this.”
His expression sharpens immediately as he scans Dr. Mercer’s notes. The symptom stages. The references to previous Risings. The mention of Evelyn Lennox. Then he freezes.
“What is it?” I ask.
His eyes lift toward mine. “Dr. Mercer wrote about this in more detail than I realized.”
“He also said this has happened many times. After he encountered it alive. He felt he failed and never left. He’s been here, as a ghost, all this time. Since he died in 1920. Each time trying to help.”
Darius closes the journal carefully. Charlie hops off the couch and circles once near Darius before settling near his feet. Completely comfortable now.
“I think our next move is talking to Lucy Lennox,” I say.
Darius’s gaze sharpens immediately.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She is…” he pauses carefully, “very complicated.”
“Her grandmother helped stop the last outbreak.”
“Contain,” he corrects quietly. “Not stop.”
“Fine. Contain. Either way, she may know something. She probably does, according to the journal.”
Darius moves toward the fog-streaked windows overlooking town.
“She also dislikes vampires. Intensely.”
“That seems inconvenient for you,” I tease.
“She dislikes most people equally. Vampires merely receive additional emphasis.”
“Still,” I say, “we need her help. She seemed to welcome me when I did the orientation tour in town. I can go by myself.”
He turns back toward me slowly.
“You should not go to her alone.”
“Why?”
“Because Lucy Lennox sees things.”
“Don’t we all?” I mutter.
Charlie lifts his head. I enjoy this witch already.
“You’re taking me.”
“That was never truly in question.”
--
Lucy Lennox’s shop sits in the middle of Hunt’s Harbor wedged between a candle store and an aggressively cheerful hardware supply store.
The sign above the door reads:
LENNOX HERBAL & APOTHECARY
Several letters have faded enough to make it look vaguely cursed. Bundles of drying herbs hang inside the windows alongside glass bottles filled with oils, powders, dried flowers, sea salt, bones, feathers, and things I deliberately choose not to identify.
The second we step inside, the bells chime softly overhead. Silver, I note. The air smells like rosemary, cedar, smoke, lavender, and something darker underneath.
Magic, I suspect. Not that I’m emotionally prepared to use that word casually yet. I’m new to all of this.
Lucy Lennox looks up from behind the counter before either of us speak.
“No,” she says immediately when she spots Darius.
Not hello. Not welcome. Just no. She points directly at Darius.
“You bring your ancient problems into my shop?”
Darius exhales heavily.
“Good morning, Lucy. Nice to see you, too.”
Lucy looks somewhere around forty, though something about her eyes makes age feel irrelevant.
Wild dark curls fall around her face with some pinned messily atop her head with what appears to be a sharpened twig.
Rings cover nearly every finger. Her long black skirts swish around heavy boots while dozens of charms clink softly from bracelets on her wrists.
And as I noted the first time I saw her, she wears four silver chains. Not one like most of the town.
She’s now staring at me like she’s known me forever.
“Well,” she murmurs, her tone changed. “There you are. I’ve been expecting you, Dr. Russo.”
My stomach flips slightly.
“Yes, so sorry I haven’t been able to make a formal visit. Things got very busy at the clinic the moment I arrived.”
“I know. You are forgiven.”
Charlie immediately trots toward her. Lucy bends down dramatically. “My, you’re handsome. And you must be the clever one.”
Correct, Charlie says proudly. How nice of you to notice.
Lucy laughs and scratches behind his ears while I roll my eyes. Darius rubs a hand slowly over his face.
“You can hear him, too?” I whisper.
Lucy snorts. “Of course I can hear him. He’s been complaining telepathically since you walked in. Even before.”
The vampire broods professionally, Charlie informs her. Lucy nods solemnly. “I noticed. He’s always been a brooder.”
I stare between them. I no longer understand my own life.
Lucy straightens and walks toward the back worktable cluttered with herbs and candles and small bones.
“You found Dr. Mercer’s journals,” she says casually.
“How did you know that?”
She gives me a deeply unimpressed look.
“Bella, sweetheart, your ghost doctor has been pacing outside my windows for three nights.”
Okay. Right. Ghosts are apparently just part of customer service now. Darius steps closer.
“Lucy.”
Immediately her expression changes. Sharper and more serious. Even a little wary.
“It’s worse this time,” she says quietly.
“You know already,” I whisper.
Lucy laughs once without humor.
“The crows started screaming at midnight for the last three nights, and two jars exploded in my kitchen. Yes, Dr. Russo. I know.”
“Won’t you call me Bella?”
She smiles and then gestures sharply toward the chairs near the back table.
“Bella, Mr. Hunt, sit down before you make this worse by standing so dramatically and wilting my fresh flowers.”
Darius actually obeys. That is fascinating. I sit slowly while Lucy begins pulling ingredients from shelves.
Silverleaf. Wolfsbane. Black salt. Dried white and purple flowers.
“Human progression can be slowed,” she says while crushing herbs together with alarming force. “Maybe stabilized temporarily if treated early.”
“And vampires?”
Lucy goes still briefly.
“That’s much harder.”
Darius’s jaw tightens slightly.
“Why?”
“Because vampires are fighting two hungers now. Their own,” Lucy continues quietly, “and his. The creature.”
Lucy’s eyes flick toward the fogged windows.
“The thing in The Wilds is not merely infecting people. It’s calling them. Pulling at appetite. Loneliness. Rage. Desire.”
Charlie’s ears flatten slightly. Bad forest thing.
“Yes,” Lucy says softly to him. “Very bad forest thing.”
“Can it be stopped, Lucy? Contained?”
Silence … and then Lucy sighs. “Maybe.”
She begins mixing herbs into a dark liquid slowly.
“My grandmother believed the corruption could be weakened if the source was weakened first.”
“The source,” Darius repeats quietly.
Lucy looks directly at him. “The creature.”
The room stills again. And suddenly I realize something important. Lucy does not sound afraid. She sounds angry.
“He was not always this way,” she says quietly.
Darius goes completely motionless. My pulse jumps.
“Can you explain?” I ask carefully.
Lucy’s eyes shift toward Darius. But she answers me.
“It means,” she says softly, “that monsters are not always born.”