A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray

Chapter 11

Willow

Rebecca was waitingfor me outside The Cauldron. I could see her through the window.

I hadn’t seen or talked to her since I’d called her after Jane was killed, after I’d lied to her and told her I’d found no trace of her. I did my best to keep my expression neutral, but there was no controlling the churning in my stomach. I unlocked and opened the door. “Rebecca, hi.” I barely got the words out before she collapsed into my arms, her thin frame quaking as huge sobs were wrenched from her.

Putting an arm around her narrow shoulders, I led her into the shop and locked the door after us.

“She’s dead,” Rebecca cried. “Jane’s dead.”

Pain for this woman, for her daughter, sliced through me. “I’m so sorry.” And I meant that with everything in me. I had no hope of understanding what she was going through, but all the heartbreak and horror poured off her. Her aura had been a dull, dense blue when she’d first come here several days ago, showcasing her disapproval of her daughter, and red, for the fear she was feeling. Now it was gray, as though her life, her vitality had been washed away with Jane’s passing.

It hurt to look at.

She lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, the skin beneath dark. Guilt grabbed me tightly by the throat. The truth, what really happened to Jane, was right there on the tip of my tongue. She’d already believed her daughter was possessed. It wasn’t a stretch that she’d believe the rest of it. But telling Rebecca the truth would turn her world upside down—and expose ours.

Her world’s already been shattered. The truth could give her some peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I ignored it as I led her to the small kitchen at the back of the shop and sat her down, then put on the kettle. “What happened?” I asked, not wanting to know what gruesome story the human police believed but needing to know it all the same.

Her hands shook, and I took a box of tissues from the cupboard and put them in front of her. She grabbed a wad and blew her nose. “Someone murdered her, Willow. Someone mutilated my girl and left her body in the forest for wild animals to…to…oh god…”

I crossed my arms, curling my hands into fists. If this were me, one of my sisters—

The churning in my stomach increased.

Rebecca deserved the truth. “Where was she found?”

“J-just outside of the city…near Marsden.”

Marsden was at the opposite side of Roxburgh. As far from the hounds’ clubhouse as you could get. “Do the police have any idea what happened?”

She shook her head. “There were no prints, no DNA. Nothing. She must have been, oh god…so scared. So very scared.” Her thin frame shuddered violently.

I felt sick.

“And there were…there were other bodies. I know you said you found nothing, but anything, no matter how small, might be a help to the police.”

Other bodies? What the hell was going on?“I’m sorry, no. I didn’t find anything. You said there were others?” I seriously hated myself right then.

My phone buzzed again, and I discreetly checked it in case it was one of my sisters. Several missed calls from Warrick. I ignored this one as well, put my phone on silent, and shoved it back in my pocket.

“They think she was targeted by a…a serial killer.” She was shaking again, her voice filled with the horror those words conjured. “People…monsters like that…” she squeezed her eyes closed, her face bloodless. “They take pleasure in causing pain,” she said, her voice growing panicked. “Oh god, how long did he hurt her, how long did he torture her…” She shuddered.

Seeing her like that and keeping my mouth shut, not telling her that Jane had been loved, or whatever the hellhound equivalent was, was so damn hard. Warrick and his brothers may not be capable of love as we know it, but Maddox was out there somewhere, suffering over the loss of his female and pup. He’d cared for her in his own way, deeply; there’d been no missing that.

If Jane were my daughter, I’d want to know that she’d been cared for, that it was a horrible accident, that Jane’s death was quick, almost instant. That she wouldn’t have suffered with the speed the hounds were capable of. One moment Jane would have been with the male she loved, then nothing.

Rebecca believed her daughter had suffered, had been tortured, terrified.

The truth, as hard as it would be to hear, would bring Rebecca some peace, and I wanted to give that to her so badly. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. I’m so sorry,” I said again. Useless words, but I felt partly responsible and so incredibly guilty that I was keeping this from her.

“She was pregnant,” she said. “She was carrying a baby and didn’t even tell me. She hated me that much…”

“No,” I said and covered her hand. “I don’t believe that, Rebecca. She loved you. I fight with my mom, my sisters, but that doesn’t diminish how much I love them. She loved you, she did.”

Her eyes locked with mine, filled with utter heartbreak. “Why, Willow, why didn’t she tell me? No one’s come forward, there’s no boyfriend that I know of. Don’t they even care? Did some awful man get her pregnant and just leave her to deal with it alone? Maybe whoever she was seeing was the one who hurt her? She kept him hidden from me.” She gripped her hair and shook her head. “Why would someone have done that to her? Why? Why did they hurt my baby?”

My resolve began to crack. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “She would have told you about the baby, she just didn’t get the chance.”

Rebecca crumpled and I stayed with her until she’d exhausted herself, then drove her home, feeling like the biggest asshole in existence.

I made her more tea after I helped her inside and put it on the coffee table in front of her. “I’m going to head off now, but if you need anything, please, just let me know.”

She grabbed my hand. “You’ll come to the funeral, won’t you?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer it to just be friends and family?”

“I know you didn’t know her, but I don’t really have anyone else…and I-I…” Her face dropped, devastation filling her eyes.

“Of course, I’ll be there.” And now I felt even more of a hypocrite.

She quickly wrote the details on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I shoved it in my pocket, made sure she was all set, and got the hell out of there before I caved and told her everything.

* * *

When I walked into our house later that afternoon, I didn’t have time to dwell on the hurricane of emotions inside me, because I was swept up in the tornado that was my family.

Iris grabbed my hand, dragged me upstairs, and tossed me into the bathroom, going as far as turning on the shower before she left. “Make it quick,” she called through the door.

Still feeling seriously unsettled after my day with Rebecca, I had to force myself to focus on something else. I couldn’t go into that ballroom unprepared or off my game. Mom was right, the place was going to be full of sharks looking for easy prey, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to swing my ass out for them to take a bite.

By the time I walked out, I’d made good progress at hardening my heart again, back to the way I preferred it these days. I was in my room and had covered the bruise around my neck with foundation so my family couldn’t see it, when Mom burst in carrying a garment bag.

“Jesus, Mom, would it hurt you to knock?” I’d had enough people seeing me naked for a good long while. At least I’d put on underwear first, and thankfully, there were only faint red marks where I’d been scratched. If I stood with my legs together, no one should be able to see them. Thank the goddess for dim lighting.

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I’ve seen you naked a million times. Oh, and Rowena called earlier, she wanted to wish you luck for tonight.”

Rowena was the head of our coven and Mom’s second cousin. She’d been great since I was named Keeper, checking in, but not breathing down my neck, when I’m sure she wanted to. You know, since the entire future of our coven either strengthening our magic or losing everything was down to me.

Stop it.Don’t think about that, not tonight.

Hustling to the closet, Mom hung the hanger from the top of the door and dragged down the bag’s zipper. Emerald silk tumbled out.

“Where did that come from?”

Mom carefully slid the bag off and ran her hand down the liquid-smooth fabric. “It was Mom’s. She looked amazing in green, like you, Wills. You got that gorgeous, wild auburn hair from your gran,” she said, telling me something I already knew and loved.

I ran my hand over the fabric as well. It was exquisite. I’d loved color once, bright, fun clothes. I’d worn my hair wild, and always had lots of jewelry. After what happened at the knights’ compound, being so close to losing my life, of almost causing the death of people I considered family, I hadn’t felt like wearing bright colors anymore. A lot of things had changed for me that day. “Where did Gran wear this?”

“Her engagement party. My father’s family had thrown them a lavish ball and everyone who was anyone attended.” Mom sighed. “They’d been so in love. I’ll have to show you the photos one day.”

And then the Thornheart bad luck had kicked in and my grandfather had been run over by a garbage truck when Mom was just five years old. Gran had never remarried. “I’d love to see them…so what’s the back of the dress like?” The last people I wanted seeing my scars were the witches in that ballroom.

“The back’s not low,” she said gently.

She didn’t like being reminded of what happened to me a year ago. I tried to avoid ever bringing it up.

“Think of this dress as armor, Wills, when you’re in that ballroom tonight. Your gran hated that part of her life growing up, and I know you don’t want to do this, but you have just as much right to be there as the rest of them.”

I was standing up for my entire coven, and the last thing I wanted was to let them down. “Wearing this, it’ll be like Gran’s right there with me.”

Mags burst through the door. “Why aren’t you dressed? I need time to do your hair. All those uppity socialites will be going to top stylists, I need time to work my magic.”

“We won’t be long.” Mom quickly helped me into the gown, and since the front dipped low, I had to forgo a bra. It was seriously risqué, and totally something I imagined Gran would have worn. Daisy Thornheart had most definitely not been a wallflower.

Mom handed me a pair of gold sandals from my closet. It felt like a million years ago now that I’d bought these. I’d worn them once. The heel was thin and delicate and added a good three inches to my height.

“I’ll make you something to eat while Magnolia does your hair,” Mom said and bustled out of the room.

“Thanks.” I did up the shoes, and Mags had me by the wrist, towing me down the stairs before I’d properly straightened. I winced.

“What?” She frowned and lifted my hand, looking at my bruised skin. “How the hell did you get that?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

She scowled.

“Mom will only worry. Go grab my gold cuff bracelet, would you?”

She huffed but did as I said. There was no way I was telling my family what happened last night. They were worried enough already. Mags sucked at keeping secrets but could be bribed with the right inducement.

She rushed back and handed the cuff to me, and I slipped it on before heading downstairs.

“Who did that, Wills?” she asked, her amber eyes huge.

I didn’t want her concerned about me. Mags should be enjoying her final year of school and having fun with her friends, not dealing with all of this. “I had a little disagreement with someone, but they’re not going to be a problem anymore.”

“You mean you…” She dragged her thumb over her throat dramatically.

I forced a laugh. “I didn’t kill anyone.” No, Warrick did that for me.

“Fine, I’ll keep your secret, but it’ll cost you,” she said and flounced off ahead of me.

I hit the bottom of the stairs, and Iris was there, ushering me to the table. I sat and Mags got started on my hair while Iris and Roe painted my nails. Mom put a sandwich in front of me and Else shuffled over and put a glass of wine beside it.

“Looking good,” Else said. “Almost as good as Daisy did when she wore it.”

I smiled at her. “You and Gran will always be the great beauties of this family.”

She cackled. “Don’t you forget it.”

Cora was there as well, and she smiled at me. “I hope you don’t mind me being here. Else said I could come and see you all dressed up for the ball.”

“No, of course not,” I said.

Cora was basically one of the family. She and Else had formed a bond almost as soon as she moved in next door.

“I’ve only ever been to one ball,” she said. “Definitely nothing as fancy as the Keeper’s ball, with all those important, powerful witches, but it was so fun to get dressed up.” Her gaze became distant. “My sweet Emily never got to go to one.”

Emily had been Cora’s only daughter and Brody’s mom. She’d been raising Brody alone before she got sick, and Cora missed her terribly. “I’m sorry, Cora.”

“She’s never far from my thoughts.” She drew in a deep breath and forced a smile. “Ignore me. You never know, you might have a good time.”

“Honestly, if I could, I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat,” I said, staring longingly at my dinner.

“A lot of people would kill for a chance to be in your position,” she admonished. “Make the most of it, my girl.”

“Of course. You’re right,” I said, feeling rather chastised and guilty after what she’d just said about her daughter.

I liked a clear head, especially heading into uncertain situations, but today had seriously been a glass of wine kind of day. Roe, being the caring, considerate one of the family, noticed and lifted the sandwich to my mouth so I could take a bite, followed by a sip of wine. “Bless you,” I said.

She grinned, and I grinned back. There was even some color in her cheeks. Seeing her like this, I couldn’t help but feel some hope that maybe she might turn a corner.

“So where’s Ren?” Mags asked as she twisted a lock of my hair and pinned it back, then grabbed her heated hair curler.

Best to say it quick, like tearing off a bandage. “He’s with the hellhounds.”

The room stilled.

“What do you mean he’s with the hellhounds?” Iris said.

“He’s fine. He’s training with them. He wants to learn to fight and they’re the best males to teach him.”

“He’s fighting them?” Mags shrieked, always the dramatic one, and tugged my hair.

“Bald isn’t exactly the look I had in mind for tonight.” She quickly eased up. “And you don’t need to worry. Lothar, the male in charge of training him, is…” What? What could I say to put my family at ease. “A really good guy, and an excellent fighter. I promise, Ren wants to be there.” I hoped that was true, all of it.

“I can’t believe he left you,” Roe said.

Iris frowned. “Yeah, he was so worried about being here to be your backup, he wouldn’t just leave. Maybe they’re forcing him to stay. Maybe he told you he wanted to be there, but really…”

“Warrick said he’d help while Ren’s training,” I told them grudgingly. “That’s why Ren was cool with it.”

Again, silence filled the room.

Then Iris hooted. “Oh man, I bet you hate that.”

Mom smiled. “I think it’s wonderful.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” I said to her.

Roe smiled down at my hand as she painted one of my nails but said nothing.

“So what time is he getting here?” Else asked.

“He’s not. This is just a ballroom full of witches trying to one-up each other, I don’t need backup for that.” I winced when Mags started on my hair again.

“It’s not just witches. The trials are a big deal, and we have allies from many different walks of life, allies who often get caught up in our drama while we’re completing our tasks,” Mom said. “Many are invited as a gesture of goodwill. This is exactly the kind of thing you should tell him about. You never know who’ll be there.”

Nope. That would not be happening. “I’ll call him when I leave,” I lied.

Else eyed me, a look on her face that said she knew I was full of shit, and Mom beamed like it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.

I ignored all of it. After my time at the den, I was in serious need of a little space from the hellhound alpha.

Finally, after a lot more fussing and a mascara wand in the eye, they were done.

“You look hot,” Else said.

“Hotter than any of those rich bitches,” Mags added.

I grabbed my keys and the gold clutch Mom shoved into my hand after slipping my lipstick and phone inside, and I headed for the door. The invitation sat on top. Good thing, since I had no idea where I was going.

“Watch your back tonight,” Mom called after me.

“Give ’em hell,” Else yelled.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to do either of those things, because I had no plans of staying there longer than necessary.

I almost expected to find Warrick waiting for me outside. Thankfully, there was no surly hellhound there when I reached the Morris. I climbed in, started her up, plugged the address into my phone, and headed out.

The drive was uneventful, which was a nice change.

The event was being held at the Grand Valencia. The witches’ council had booked out the entire place, so the only humans here were staff. The building was beautiful, built in the 1920s, and had that whole art deco vibe in spades. Lots of glass and gold and gorgeous tile. It also had an upscale hotel and boasted a Michelin star restaurant and two massive ballrooms.

The valet rushed out as I pulled up. When I handed him my keys, he screwed up his nose. “If you scratch her, I’ll break your fingers,” I said, wiping that look off his face.

Some people didn’t appreciate classic beauty.

I glanced up at the massive marble entrance. Warm light spilled out onto the steps, shining through the prisms of crystal dangling from giant chandlers just inside the door. It danced and glinted across the white marble, making it look like everything was under water and adding to the feel of outrageous opulence.

I’d never felt more out of place in my entire life.

Straightening my spine, I carefully gathered up my dress, trying not to crease the silk, and headed up the stairs. Several people stopped midconversation, turning my way. An older witch I’d never met went as far as elbowing her companion so they wouldn’t miss the show. My family avoided these people, these kinds of events, and it was clear a few people had obviously assumed I wouldn’t attend.

Don’t let them see how nervous you are.

Ignoring the wild fluttering in my belly and the tingle of unease down my spine, I walked through the wide doors, across the massive foyer, and through to the ballroom doors. An attendant held out his hand for my invitation.

“Willow Thornheart, of coven Thornheart,” he called, reading it out loud.

The room seemed to still, drinks pausing on the way to painted lips, conversations stopping, all so they could look my way.

I wasn’t fond of attention, especially not from these people, but I had to play the part or get eaten alive. The Thornheart name was old, and because of that, well known. My great grandparents had enjoyed the finer things and had moved in these social circles, thus the reason Gran had needed a dress like this for her engagement party.

But my grandmother had defied them in the first place by marrying my grandfather, and refusing the suitor they’d chosen for her. And when my grandfather hadn’t bent to their will like they’d expected, my grandparents had been cut off. Even after my grandfather died, they’d pretended Mom and Gran didn’t exist.

Gran had left this life behind and she’d had no interest in coming back to it.

The fact we were as powerful as we were but chose to stick to ourselves, to snub them, still pissed a lot of them off.

I carried on, not allowing my step to falter, and took the stairs down to the main floor, focusing every bit of my energy on not tripping and falling on my face.

I reached the floor and, ignoring the overt stares and whispers, headed to a table laden with champagne flutes.

Someone coughed as I passed, and I was pretty sure they said whore. Nice.

Some of the witches here had decided my family thought we were better than everyone else, unable to comprehend that we didn’t give that first fuck about status and money. Now they were desperate for a chance to knock us…me, down a peg. That wasn’t happening tonight, not if I could help it.

I grabbed a glass of champagne and took a deep sip when what I really wanted was to down it and grab another. I hadn’t mixed with any of these people in a very long time, not since Mag’s moon goddess initiation two years ago, where all the young witches were pranced around and forced to pretend to “make friends,” but really it was a superficial load of crap, like tonight, where parents tried to find their sons and daughters influential connections.

Mags had insisted on doing it with her friends, but we’d been given the same treatment as tonight. Mags had felt it and withdrawn, hadn’t talked to anyone during the event, and it had solidified the we-think-we’re-too-good-for-you narrative in everyone’s eyes.

“Willow, is that you?”

A beautiful Japanese woman walked up to me, her hands held out, and smiled warmly. I smiled back at the first welcome face I’d seen here. “Asuka.”

“It’s so good to see you.” She pulled me in for a hug and I squeezed her back, probably a little more desperately than I would have liked, but I was so glad she was here.

Asuka’s family had moved to Roxburgh when she was fifteen. We’d been friends until they moved to the other side of the city and she’d changed high schools after her mother had taken her place on the witch’s council. Her mahogany gaze took me in. “You look stunning. How have you been?”

“You look like you should be on a runway. And same old, you know, except for the part that I’m here.” Asuka had always known this was her destiny, and she’d taken the honor very seriously, training for the trials to come all her life.

I, on the other hand, had partied and goofed off because I could.

She grinned. “I’ve missed you.”

“I never did forgive your folks for taking you away. So I hear congratulations are in order. Who’s the lucky guy?” I’d heard through the grapevine she’d gotten engaged, but since I didn’t run in her circles these days, I was short on facts.

Her smile slipped. “No congratulations needed, not anymore, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine, really. He’s a good man but was more my parents’ choice than mine.”

Some families were all about finding ways to gain more power, like my great grandparents had been, and an advantageous marriage to a Keeper was one way to do that. I personally thought it was fucked up, but what did I know?

“So how did your final trial go?” she asked, sympathy and curiosity in her eyes that kind of rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, it was to be expected, she knew as well as everyone else here that I was runner-up in this situation.

“I’m actually still in the middle of my task. You?”

“You haven’t completed your task?” Her head tilted to the side. “So you’re a bit behind everyone else then.”

Awesome. I didn’t let the stress that shot through me show on my face, at least I hoped I didn’t. “Mine’s a bit of a mess, honestly. I’ve…”

“You know we can’t talk about that stuff with each other,” she said, her gaze moving to something over my shoulder. “My father’s waving at me to join him.” She sighed. “We’ll catch up later?”

I smiled, trying not to let my inner freak-out show on my face at what she’d just said, and hugged her back. “I’d like that.”

“And don’t worry, whatever it is, you’ve got this,” she said and strode away.

I finished my champagne. Screw it. And grabbed another. This was going to be a four drinks kind of night, maybe five. I glanced around the room, feeling like a spare prick at a wedding. Else was right, there weren’t just witches here, there were shifters of many and varying breeds, and a couple of vamps…and a dhampir.

Ronan stood on the other side of the room. Ronan was my friend Luna’s brother, and Luna was mated to Gunner, one of the knights. The dhampir was talking to several other males. Someone stepped back—

Glowing golden eyes hit me from across the room.

Warrick.

He took a step forward and my heart smacked against my ribs.

God, he looked gorgeous. His hair was knotted at his nape, and he was dressed in a black-on-black suit that was beautifully tailored and sculpted to his wide shoulders and thickly muscled thighs. The shirt under his jacket was undone at his throat, revealing his tan, muscled neck.

It was the most civilized I’d ever seen him dressed, and still it did nothing to smooth out those incredibly rough edges. There was no mistaking him for anything other than what he was.

Rebecca’s words from earlier entered my head. There had been other bodies buried where Jane had been found. A lot of them. I didn’t truly know what Warrick was capable of. I didn’t know him, not really. But I did know he would tear the head off one of his own brothers without a second thought if he believed they’d crossed him or tried to take what he considered his. Had the hounds put those other bodies there? Were they responsible for them? Was Warrick?

My gaze shifted back to his and my belly swirled.

Shit.