A Curse in Darkness by Sherilee Gray

Chapter 19

Willow

I tookin Clayton’s house as I pulled up outside the next morning. He’d wanted me to come here last night, but I’d had my own family to take care of, and when Mom, Else, and Roe got home, we’d had to perform on them the same ritual we had on Mags.

Then we’d been up all night walking the perimeter of our house, strengthening our wards. No one was getting to them again.

Mom had been beside herself when she’d seen Mags, then Rose had collapsed, looking paler, sicker than I’d ever seen her. I’d hoped…we’d all hoped that maybe it was a hex doll making her sicker, but after the ritual there’d been no change, and the hopelessness I’d felt had been mirrored in the faces of my family.

Mags was doing as well as could be expected this morning. Bram had slept on the floor in her room last night, and Cora and Else were treating her wounds to prevent infection. Else had an excellent salve that sped up healing and reduced scarring, something that we all used a lot, considering how often we cut ourselves spelling.

That wouldn’t take away the scars she would carry on the inside for the rest of her life, though. When I’d checked on her this morning, she’d been subdued, and the light that had always shone from Magnolia had been seriously dimmed. My fingers curled into a tight fist. I was going to find the monster who did this, and when I did, I was going to end them.

And how the hell are you going to do that?

I rubbed my hands over my face and forced myself to breathe, because I felt like I was drowning. I needed to protect my family, keep them safe from whoever wanted to hurt us. I didn’t know what they wanted, why they’d done this, or if it was connected to what happened to Clay’s mother, because her injuries sounded so similar.

And if I didn’t pass this task and my next trial, all the gifts that had come to our family from trials past would be revoked. We’d still be witches, but our powers would be greatly reduced. We’d be sitting ducks. The covens could come for us, for our cemetery, and we’d be as helpless as lambs.

My eyes stung, and I choked back a sob.

And, on top of all these problems, I needed to find Ren.

The door was pulled open, and I jolted, spinning in my seat, my blade in my hand a second later.

Warrick stood there staring down at me.

His bike was behind the Morris. I hadn’t even heard him drive up, lost so deep in my own thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

He rested a hand above the door. “Just came from your house, dove.”

“So you know that someone attacked Magnolia?” My voice was husky from fighting back goddamn tears. I hated crying. It solved nothing. It helped nothing. Feeling sorry for myself sure as hell wouldn’t help the people I loved most in this world.

“Yeah, and you’ve already got enough shit to deal with. I can’t stop an attack that involves witchcraft, but I can keep them physically safe. I sent some of my brothers to your place. They’ll cover all of you until we know what the fuck is going on.”

I blinked up at him, and my heart smacked against the back of my ribs, then I was moving, flying out of the truck and wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you,” I said against his chest.

We could ward the house, we were still powerful witches, for now, anyway. We’d been taking care of ourselves for as long as I could remember. But I wanted all bases covered, and sometimes straight-up brute strength was what you needed. And as much as I hated owing favors or relying on anyone else, when it came to my sisters, to Mom and Else, my pride didn’t matter. I’d take all the help I could get. “You don’t know what a relief that is.”

One of his thick fingers hooked me under the chin, and he tilted my head back. “Anything you need, dove, just ask. And if anyone comes for your family again, one of my brothers will shred them into bloody pieces.”

I grinned up at him, knowing that my smile looked more than a little wobbly. “Aww, you old sweet talker you. Now you’re speaking my language.”

The grin he laid on me in return made my damn knees weak. “Enough of the old.”

“Aren’t you like a thousand years old?”

He chuckled and then shrugged. “Give or take a few hundred years.”

That chuckle seriously did things to me. My gaze dropped to his lips—

“Willow?”

I turned to see Clayton coming down the stairs. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days, eyes bloodshot, hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled.

“Be nice,” I said to Warrick, then ducked under his arm and strode toward Clay.

Warrick stuck close, and for once, I was more than okay with it. I had no idea what I was about to walk in on. This could be some kind of trap, for all I knew. Maybe Clay was behind it all, maybe this was some twisted ruse?

Now you’re just being paranoid.

Probably, but I couldn’t afford to trust anyone right now. My gaze slid to Warrick. Apparently, the hellhound alpha was an exception. I hoped like hell I wouldn’t live to regret it, but every one of my instincts told me I wouldn’t, that I needed to trust him. He may not have a soul, but his aura…god, it was all warmth, deep oranges with glowing reds and yellow sparks floating around him, like embers floating up from a fire.

Yes, he’d been created by Lucifer and had lived most of his life in Hell, but there was nothing evil about him.

“Come with me,” Clayton said and strode back to the house.

I glanced at Warrick and his brows lowered, his head tilting back, scenting the air. He stopped me with a hand to my stomach. “Something’s dead in that house,” he said.

“Clay’s mother was murdered here last night, but I assumed he had her body removed.”

“She’s still here.”

Oh god.

We followed Clay inside, up the grand staircase, and down a long hall. He stopped in front of a door, staring at it for several long seconds, then finally, he reached out, gripped the handle, and opened it. He reached in, flicked on the light, and slowly walked in.

I paused at the threshold, the sweet, sickly scent of death hitting the back of my throat instantly. Clay stood at the end of her bed, his expression blank. Olive Whitlock lay in a sea of white and pale pink bedding drenched with blood, some dry and rust colored, some still vibrant red.

“Who would do this?” he asked, his entire body shaking. “They tortured her, cutting her over and over again until she was too weak to move…then they sliced her throat.” He slid his trembling hands into his pockets. “I’d been at the office all day. I came home and found her. There was no sign of a break in or forced entry, nothing…” He cleared his throat. “I should have been here to protect her, I should have…”

I walked into the room and stood beside him. Olive was tangled in her sheets, her face a mask of horrors. She’d writhed in pain before she’d died. She’d screamed in terror.

My stomach churned.

I could have come home, like Clay had, and found Magnolia like that.

The cuts were exactly the same as the ones on my sister, just a lot more of them. Had they somehow known I’d gotten back early? Were they watching the house? They’d gone for my sister’s throat far sooner than they had Olive’s. “Why is she still here, Clay?”

“I…” He turned to me. “I didn’t know what to do, Wills.”

I touched his arm, and Warrick took several steps closer. “Have you been in here with her all night?”

He nodded, shaking harder.

“Come on.” I led him from the room, shutting the door firmly behind us, and back downstairs to the sitting room. I poured him a bourbon from the liquor cabinet and handed it to him. He downed it and slumped back against the couch.

“You need to call Sal,” I said.

Sally Macanroy, Ren’s Mom, was the only mortician witches in Roxburgh used. When something like this happened, a magic-related death, they took care of the bodies so we didn’t draw attention from the human police. As far as justice went? If there was foul play, the victim’s family needed to gather evidence before they could appeal the witch’s council. If the council approved their claim, they could then seek restitution. The most common was financial. But some chose a life for a life. Others…got more creative.

He nodded and took out his phone, but his hand was shaking so badly he had trouble calling up the number. I reached for his phone. “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks.”

I quickly called Ren’s parents and asked them to come and collect Clayton’s mother.

“I’m so sorry for dragging you into this,” he said to me when I ended the call. “But recently…well, Mother had lost a lot of friends. And along with all the other fucking awful shit that’s happened, we found ourselves rather isolated.”

“How did she lose friends?”

Clayton blinked down at me. “You didn’t hear?”

I shook my head.

“My trial,” he said, waiting for me to catch on.

“I’ve heard nothing.”

He sat forward, his throat working. “I was paired with Johnston Avery. His family is large and powerful, and everyone assumed he would beat me, and easily. There was a marriage counting on it. John was promised Asuka if he won. A joining of two magically powerful families.” He gave me a look, but thankfully didn’t mention the similar deal he’d offered me. “But I won, and the marriage was taken off the table. We’ve been blacklisted, ostracized, they said I cheated, and some believed the lies.” His mouth twisted. “Mother was humiliated. I may not be as flashy as some witches, but I am a lot more powerful than many realize. I sure as hell don’t need to cheat. They underestimated me, they always have, that was their mistake.”

So that’s why Asuka’s engagement ended. “I didn’t know.” I gave his arm another squeeze. “I’ve been so busy with my own task, I had no idea what was happening with everyone else. I’m sorry, Clay.” I’d left the ball so quickly, I hadn’t noticed if people were treating Clay and his mother coldly. I didn’t get it, why the hell would someone want to be part of that?

Clayton’s eyes flashed, and he shot to his feet. “Avery did this. He murdered my mother.”

“I’m not so sure.” I stood. “My sister was attacked as well, and in a way almost identical to your mother.” I gave him the details and watched his reaction closely.

He sat up straighter. “Is she all right?”

I studied him, searching for a sign that he wasn’t telling me all he knew. But there was nothing, and after seeing him in his mother’s bedroom, I couldn’t believe he’d done it. There was no missing how much pain he was in. His aura looked like Rebecca’s.

“A hex doll?” he asked.

“I’m sure of it. I managed to break the bind before they slit her throat…” My heart raced faster at the memory, my palms growing clammy. “But they meant to kill her.” Hex dolls were created using hair or nails, sometimes fabric cut from the victim’s clothes then a spell was used to link the doll with the victim. After that, any damage inflicted on the doll was felt by the person whose image it was created in.

“I don’t understand,” Clayton said. “Why would the Avery come after your sister?”

“They have no reason to, not that I’m aware of. I’m not convinced they’re the ones who killed your mother, Clay.”

Warrick and I stayed with him until Sally and Calum arrived, and I promised to call Clay as soon as I knew anything, and he promised the same.

I was walking out when Sally stopped me, pulling me aside.

“Have you seen my boy? Or heard anything?”

She looked exhausted, beside herself with worry over Ren, and I hated that I had nothing for her. “I’m sorry, Sal. I will find him. I promise you that.” I shouldn’t be making promises, but I couldn’t take the agony in her eyes, eyes identical to Ren’s.

She squeezed me in a tight hug. “I know you will, Wills. You’ll bring our boy home.” Then she walked into the living room to speak with Clayton, and I rushed out, because suddenly I felt like I was suffocating.

“You touch him too much,” Warrick said when I reached the bottom of the steps.

I drew in a steadying breath, trying to avoid hyperventilating. “His mother has been murdered. I was comforting him.”

Embers danced in his eyes. “I didn’t like it, dove.”

Seriously?What did the guy want from me? I couldn’t deal with his jealousy. He’d offered me sex, that’s all. Nothing more. I appreciated all he was doing for us, but that didn’t mean he could act this way. I didn’t care if it was some possessive animal instinct thing. I wasn’t an animal, and I couldn’t deal with his crap on top of all the other crap I had going on. “You’ll just have to get over it.” There was so much more I could say, but I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for it right then.

He growled, and I ignored it, climbed into the Morris, and headed out.