Chapter Ten #2
The room I once avoided like the plague now looks inviting, thanks to the throws and cushions decorating the sofa.
Lamps and end tables have been added, giving the room a warm, cozy feel, along with a fluffy rug in a latte color and a large bookcase filled to the brim with books.
The chair my father always favored now has a cream throw over the arm and a tall lamp that leans over it, making it the perfect spot for reading.
Someone else must have agreed, because a table next to the chair has a brand-new Kindle sitting on it, along with a note in Jen’s writing that says, “Enjoy.” That woman really did think of everything.
And it wasn’t just this room. She thought of the bathroom, my bedroom, and the kitchen, too.
I could get around to doing up the other rooms when I wanted, but for now, everything would work great without me having to tiptoe around my triggers.
Once my food is gone, I place the plate on the table and climb into the chair, tugging the throw over me. I grab the Kindle and open the book I loaded earlier, about an MC, in which the female protagonist finds herself involved with multiple men. I found the premise intriguing.
I must have been reading for hours because my Kindle says I’m at 87% when I kid you not, the house tenses.
“What is it?”
I close my eyes, trying to feel what the house is. A familiar scent reaches me—Old Spice and cloves. Real or a figment of my imagination, I don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances. I know who smells like that. They have done for as long as I’ve known them.
Dale Larson.
I blow out a steadying breath. “Turn out the lights.”
The house does as I ask without protest, both of us on the same page when it comes to this man, at least.
“He hurt us. He has to pay. Will you help me?”
I feel the air stir and a caress across my cheek, which I take as a yes.
I knew they’d come. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon, and I thought it would be my father. But I should have realized he would send his lackey so he didn’t incriminate himself.
I tap my fingers on the edge of the chair. I had thought I might get at least a week while they came up with a plan. I should have remembered that patience was never one of my father’s virtues. Oh well. I can adapt.
I tap the screen of my phone. It’s almost midnight.
I click it back to sleep, letting the darkness envelop me once more.
It feels comforting for once, as if the shadows are keeping me safe, protecting me from an outsider who seeks to harm me.
As mad as this house is at me, I know it doesn’t want to see me hurt.
It wasn’t strong enough to help me before.
My powers had started to come in early, but it wasn’t enough to sustain the house.
God, how impotent it must have felt. And then I was gone, leaving it to drown in sorrow for so long, I’m surprised I can feel it at all.
But I don’t need the house to protect me now.
I just need it to have my back. I’ll protect us both.
“Let him in.”
I take a deep, soothing breath and feel my gift move inside me, urging me to strike out. But I keep my heart rate even, my breathing calm, and remind myself that we’ve waited a long time for this moment. We can wait a little longer.
I sense him before he enters. I wonder if he’s surprised that he made it inside. Or if he assumes that now I’m back, I’ve broken the seal, so to speak.
My whole body is tingling with awareness as he gets closer.
I can hear him now as well as sense him.
Though he’s trying to be quiet, I hear every minor scuff of his shoe and hitch of his breath.
The house gives a quick pulse of warning, making me frown.
An image of a gun flashes in my mind for a moment, shocking the shit out of me and making me grab my head.
Was that the house or me? I’ve never…or maybe I have. I don’t know. Some things I wrote off as my imagination, but now I’m not so sure.
When I sense him enter the room, I stand silently and wait for the perfect moment to strike. He doesn’t come any closer, though, much to my disappointment. Instead, he heads upstairs. I’m tempted to follow him, but I stay where I am, letting sparks of electricity tingle over my fingers.
It feels like a lifetime before he stomps downstairs, sounding pissed. “Where the fuck is the little bitch?” he hisses. Maybe he thinks I’m not here. Or perhaps he’s just not scared of me.
Time to change that.
As soon as he steps into the room, I zap him. His whole body locks up before it starts to seize. I pull my power back and smile when he drops to the floor, his eyes wide with terror.
The lamp clicks on, illuminating the area around us. “Hello, Dale.”
“What did you do to me?”
“Don’t tell me my father didn’t tell you what I’m capable of?”
He swallows. He knows what I am. I’m just not sure he believed it before now.
“You have to be all kinds of stupid to frame a witch. I mean, I’ve spent fifteen years learning everything I could and honing my craft for this very moment.
I knew you’d come. You couldn’t risk the truth getting out, even if the chances of people believing me were slim.
Someone might, and that would plant seeds of doubt.
“See, I finally get it—why the people around here are so wary of me, or act like I have the plague. I assumed, naively, that it was my father’s doing.
And perhaps that is the truth, in part. But it was more than that, wasn’t it?
People were scared of me because of my heritage.
Of course, I was oblivious to it all. But I sure found a lot of interesting things to read while I was incarcerated, including the history of this town and its part in the witch trials.
Ironic, really, that most of the women burned were nothing but regular women, framed by fragile-minded men because they couldn’t handle a woman being stronger or smarter or indeed braver than they were. Sound familiar?”
He whimpers, his eyes darting around the room looking for help. But nobody is coming to save him. It’s a feeling I’m all too acquainted with.
“They were right about one woman, though. A Hart ancestor of mine was hanged for being a witch. She left behind three daughters. One fled to protect her unborn child. Two went on to kill the man responsible for their mother’s death, which resulted in them being hanged too. And do you know who this man was?”
He stares at me, but I wait him out, demanding an answer.
“Their father,” he states with a knowledge that lets me know he’s far more aware of this town’s history than I ever was.
“Was that part of the plan? To play into history? There was a precedent set after all. You failed to remember what came next, though, didn’t you?
Because when your ancestors hanged Dorothy Hart, she left more behind than just her daughters.
She left behind a curse, tying the land to her bloodline.
To my bloodline. Is that why my father kept my mother’s last name?
Did he think he could trick the curse somehow? ”
His mouth opens in shock as his eyes flutter, thinking back to all the text he’d skated over.
It’s the same kind of small-minded bigots you see twisting the Bible, picking out passages that fit their agenda while disregarding the parts that contradict their ideologies.
Idiots. For every person who finds peace in their faith, you’ll find two more who will twist that same faith just to declare war.
“Crops started to fail, the birth rate declined, and people fell on hard times. See a pattern? But then that third sister gave birth to a little girl of her own. Only she died before she could warn her daughter about this place. I can only imagine the draw she felt to come here. I felt it every day of my life, even when this place was my own personal hell. I wish to god she never came back. If she’d have fought her feelings and never returned, it would have withered and died.
You’d have all gotten exactly what you deserved, and I’d have been spared all this bullshit.
My mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother felt like they owed this place something, even when it drained them dry.
Not me. I’m gonna be the one to break the cycle, even if I have to burn this town to ash. ”
I bend down, tracing my fingers over his face. The electricity crackles over my fingertips, making him cry out.
“You’re a monster,” he spits.
“You came to kill me, even knowing the town would die too. What kind of monster does that make you?” I lean down and let my lips hover ever so slightly over his. “Tell the devil I said hi.”
I press my hand to his heart and let my power loose, swallowing his screams as the lights flicker around us in a frenzy. When his heart stops, and I’ve consumed his last breath, I get to my feet with a smile and call the police.