Dark Castle by Shanna Handel

22

Santo

Willow’s handfeels small and cold in mine. She looks up at me. “Tell me what happened. Tell me how you got her here.”

As I walk my wife across the meadow to the palace where we’re holding Prue, I think back to the conversation I had with her mother in the forest. Prue had come alone, and like I thought, she used the firecrackers to draw me into the woods.

I tell Willow the story, about how I walked through the woods. I found the barrel, a gray curl of smoke rising from its rusty top. There was no sight or sound of her presence.

I announce myself. “I’m here.”

She steps out from behind a wide oak and a slight smile spreads across her thin face. “I knew you’d come.”

“I heard your calling card.” I nod to the barrel.

“I needed to speak with you alone. About Demi.” Her eyes mist over. “About…the girls. I need to protect them.”

“Seems to me if you cared about protecting them you wouldn’t have left them in the woods alone in the first place.”

“I came back, didn’t I?” Her eyes harden, her lapse into tears disappearing. She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what happened then. Only what happens now.”

It matters. A whole hell of a lot. I guess no one taught Prue family first. I want to walk away, but I need to keep her talking. I need to know what she knows. “What happens now?”

“Now we fight Demi. At my castle, just like I told you that day—”

“That day you threw me over a wall?”

She dismisses my growl with the wave of her hand. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Just get you out of my way.”

“Tell me why you left the girls in the first place.”

“You know I could knock you on your ass with one raise of my palm.” Her eyes are hard, and they glitter at me with anger. She likes to be the one to hold the power, to drive and move the conversation.

“Just like I could take you out with one of my bullets. Or my men that are hiding in the trees could shoot you with an arrow with the raise of my hand. But we both know that doesn’t help the girls. And if you truly want to help them, tell me why you left.”

Her head drops. “I had to. I was hurting them.”

“Your premonitions?” I ask.

“Yes.” She reaches up quickly, brushing away tears she doesn’t want me to see. “They grew stronger. I couldn’t tell what was right or wrong anymore. I’d already hurt them, and I knew I’d hurt them more if I stayed. The girls were strong. Their father and I had taught them all they needed to know to survive. Briar was sixteen when I left, the same age I was when I went out on my own. I knew she’d be fine.”

“And why did you throw me over the wall that day?”

“I wanted you out of my way. To talk to my daughter alone, to fight Demi alongside my daughters. But it became clear that Willow loves you. That she wasn’t going to leave you. I left her in the castle and left.” She shrugs. “But now, here I am.”

I protect Willow. I don’t trust Prue. As long as Prue is roaming free, Willow isn’t safe.

We’re almost to the palace. I tell Willow, “I brought Prue back here. Told her if she wanted to enact her plan, she’d have to stay at the palace under guard until we’re ready for her. And none of that magic crap until then or the deal is off.”

Willow tugs my hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not hurting her.”

Her words trigger a memory flashing through my mind. How when I was talking to Prue in the woods, I’d briefly considered ending her for good. I refused to risk Willow’s safety and she’d be safer if Prue was gone. My hand went to reach for my gun.

Then Willow’s face appeared in my mind. Like it did when I was driving too fast and I could hear her voice, telling me to slow down. She came into my mind, and she told me not to hurt Prue. That it wasn’t the way. That it wasn’t right.

Willow gazes at me now with the same look on her face that she stared at me with when she came into my mind. “What is it?”

Was it real? Was she there in my head just as real as she is now?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “Something happened in the woods the day I was with your mother. It was like you were in my head, talking to me, telling me not to hurt her.”

I watch the color drain from my wife’s face.

I grab her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It was me.” Shame creeps into her voice. “That you heard. In your mind. It was me.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

She shakes her head and wrings her hands together, clearly upset. “I can’t control it. I don’t mean to do it. I don’t even know when it’s happening other than I get a little dizzy; sounds and my surroundings get blurry, but just for a second or so. Then I know it’s happening.”

“What? What’s happening?”

“My powers.”

Her powers? I remember asking her that day if she had any. I can’t remember if I got a straight answer out of her. “Tell me more.”

“People I love…sometimes I get into their head when they’re doing something they shouldn’t. We first discovered it when it would happen to Briar. She was peeling off her clothes to sunbathe in her garden one day and she got this weird vision of me telling her not to, telling her someone might see. At the same time I was in the kitchen, having that dizzy moment. Briar came in the house to tell me what happened, and we shared stories. We figured it out.”

I tell her about seeing her in the car that day. “It happened once before. When I was driving too fast. You asked me to slow down. It was like you were right beside me.”

“You do drive too fast.” She gives a dry laugh. “It’s useful sometimes. Especially with Posie when she was little and off hiding and sharpening her knife somewhere.”

If I had a power like that, I’d use it to my benefit. She shies away from it like it’s something to be ashamed of. I reach out for her. “Why don’t you use your power, hone it and make it stronger?”

She pulls away. “It’s not right. To go into people’s heads like that. I don’t like it. And I don’t like that I can’t control it. So when I feel that hazy feeling coming over me, I push it down and hope it stops.”

I’m intrigued. I want to know how it works, and if we could make it stronger. If we practiced, could we get to the point she could talk to me from somewhere else? Could I communicate back with her?

She sees the questions in my eyes, and she pulls further away.

She wants me to stop.

I won’t ask her to do anything she doesn’t want to.

“Hey. Don’t worry about it.” I cup her cheek in my hand. I brush my lips across her forehead. “Ready?”

She gives me a brave nod. “Yes.”

We pass the guards at the tall oak doors of the palace. Prue’s waiting for us in the foyer. She stands tall with her spine straight. She’s been well cared for and living like royalty.

I wanted to throw Prue in the prison, but I thought of Willow. She wouldn’t want that. Only the best for my new mother-in-law. No invite to the wedding though—I couldn’t risk the security threat of having Prue out and about.

Her hands flutter over her heart as she takes her daughter in. “Daughter! You make a beautiful bride.”

Willow takes a timid step toward her mother. Her fingers twist into each other. She’s nervous. “Mom. How are you?”

“I’m well. My son-in-law has taken good care of me.” Prue’s eyes slide to mine, a tight smile on her face. “I’m ready to end this thing with Demi once and for all.”

“What if you can’t? Willow asks. “What if Demi is stronger than you?”

An icy gaze of pride wells in Prue’s eyes. “She won’t. I’m far more powerful. You remember my powers. Don’t you, dear?”

A shudder runs through Willow.

Time to go.

I wrap my arm around Willow’s shoulders. “We’ve got to get back to our wedding. We’ll talk later.”

Prue reaches out for Willow, but Willow turns into me, ready to leave.

When we’re alone in the meadow I grab her hands in mine. “I’m sorry I had to bring you here, to put a cloud over our wedding, but I wanted you to know I have her and that you’re safe.”

“I’m fine. Really, I am. I’m ready to go back.” She gives me a smile.

I take her back to our reception. Mafia shit can wait. It’s time to dance.

That night we make love. It’s slow and sweet and I can feel our souls intertwine as our bodies unite. It’s like nothing I’ve experienced with women in my past.

It’s love.

The next day my bride sleeps in while I find my brother to make a plan.

Aldo’s in his office looking over the maps of our land. I tell him about Prue’s idea. He runs a hand through his beard. “This thing with Prue, it’s your call.”

“I know.”

“So make it.” He crosses his arms over his chest; the colorful tattoos on his forearms catch my eye. “You know I don’t like to wait.”

Aldo’s like a bull going in horns first. I’m like a panther stalking my prey. “Give me some time. If we make the wrong call, we could lose a lot of people.”

He growls. “I just want this shit with Demi to be over. Can’t we just go to her place and take her out with a scope?”

“You know that will mean retaliation. And retaliation means all-out war.”

“Stefano’s not doing anything about her. Maybe we should give this Prue chick a shot at taking her out. Take the Russo family out of the equation completely.” Aldo slips the palace keys from his pocket, circling the ring on his finger. “What do you say, bro?”

Enzo comes dashing into the room, his light hair hanging over his eyes. He pushes it away from his face. “He’s here. Stefano is here.”

“The real Stefano this time?” Aldo demands.

“Yes. It’s him.” Enzo leaves hurriedly.

Aldo and I exchange a glance. What does Stefano have for us? We take off, following Enzo.

The dark halls are quiet. The heavy footsteps of our boots echo off the stone walls. Enzo had Stefano brought down underneath the castle.

Stefano paces the floors, but as we approach, he stops. His hands go to his hips. His eyes are wild with excitement. “I’ve got good news, Russos.”

I slide a hand in my pocket, the other going to the handle of the knife tucked in my belt. “Tell us.” Aldo stands to my right, Enzo to my left.

Stefano speaks fast. “It’s Demi. I’ve convinced her to let this go. To move on. Says she’ll stand down.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. He’s sincere. He believes what he’s saying.

But I saw the look on Demi’s face when she sent her bolt of lightning straight into my brother’s heart.

She’ll never move on. She’ll never stand down.

“That’s not what ‘taking care of her’ means to us. She’s still a threat.” I stare him down.

Stefano tugs at the ends of his brown and silver beard. “It’s good news. She’ll stand down. I’m certain of it—”

A blaring alarm cuts him off. Po’s voice crackles through the joint communication speakers we’ve got installed in our phones. “We’ve got a possible threat. Lock it down, boys.”

Enzo looks to me. “He’s on the wall tonight. He must have seen something.”

“Shit.” In one fluid motion, Aldo twists, grabbing Stefano and pinning his back to Aldo’s chest. Aldo has one arm locking Stefano in place. The other holds a blade to his throat. “Asshole! I knew we couldn’t trust you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. I came alone. I swear!” Stefano throws his hands up in surrender. “I came alone. As soon as she said she’d stand down I came straight here. Alone!”

Aldo presses the blade into his throat.

Stefano’s eyes hold mine. “You think I’d bring her here? To my daughters? Never. If you think I would, go on and do it, Aldo.”

Aldo holds the blade. He wants to do it. He wants to end Stefano. Aldo’s gaze questions mine, waiting for my signal.

I won’t give it. Killing Stefano will only begin a new chain of reactions when we haven’t resolved the ones already in play. And to complicate matters, the man is now my father-in-law. Kind of confuses the whole family first thing. I shake my head.

Aldo hisses.

I hold my brother’s gaze. “He’s telling the truth.”

Stefano sighs with relief. “Let me go.”

“No. We’re keeping you here. No more going back to Demi. Ever.” I turn on my boot heel. “Throw him in the palace with Prue. The two of them made this mess together.”

Aldo drags Stefano deeper into the hall toward the back door.

We secure the perimeter and start to pull people to the safe space when Po comes back over the radio. His voice is suspiciously sheepish. “Scratch that, team. False alarm.”

I swipe my screen, moving my communication channel to a private line between me and Po. I bring my phone to my mouth. “What the hell, Po?”