The Devil’s Fool

Where are they?

 

Everything felt wrong about what just happened. Boaz. My parents. But most of all, me. Never in my life had I used such power. If my body wasn’t still humming with magic, I would’ve collapsed to the ground, disgusted by what I had just done.

 

Unable to locate my parents, I returned to the car without saying a word to Boaz. I needed time to think. The few remaining Diablos slowly moved back into the forest, no longer interested in me.

 

Boaz slid into the driver’s seat and wrapped his hands around the leather steering wheel. “You did well.”

 

“Can we just go?” The last thing I wanted was to talk about what had just happened. As it was, I was having a hard enough time calming down. My entire body stung as if a thousand needles pricked my skin, and I was afraid one wrong word would send me out of control again. Boaz seemed to sense my predicament and kept his mouth shut.

 

We drove for several hours through upper New York’s rural country. At one point, I thought we may have crossed over into Vermont, but I’d seen no signs to confirm my suspicions.

 

The clouds above had grown thick until a light snowfall burst from their seams. Cold air blew through the broken windows, freezing my skin, but I refused to complain. Boaz must have seen the goose bumps on my arms, because he reached behind his seat and grabbed a jacket. When I wouldn’t accept it, he dropped it into my lap without a word.

 

By the time we reached our destination, which ended in the White Mountains in northern New Hampshire, I’d managed to rid myself of a lot of the anger. Mostly confusion and doubt remained.

 

Boaz’s home wasn’t as large as the one I’d come from but was still huge and set far away from any neighbors, a common thing in the supernatural world. The outside was all gray stone with tall wooden beams in the front, matching two massive cedar front doors. Hunwald was perched out front looking more like a statue than a wolf.

 

I took a step toward it and then stopped.

 

What am I doing?

 

This wasn’t my plan. When Boaz’s hand touched the small of my back, I jumped.

 

“Your new home awaits,” he said.

 

“This isn’t my home.”

 

“Would you like me to take you back then?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Then where will you go?”

 

I looked past his shoulder. I had no one else to turn to. No money. No friends.

 

“Stay with me for a few days,” he said. “Give yourself some time to rest and to come up with a plan. Then I’ll take you wherever you want to go. It’s your choice.”

 

I inhaled a big breath. A few days should be plenty. In fact, it was more time than I should spend with Boaz who seemed to share my parent’s obsessiveness for power.

 

“Why were my parents in the forest?” I asked suddenly.

 

His expression went still. “What do you mean?”

 

“Earlier in the woods, with the Diablos. They were there watching us.”

 

“That’s impossible, love. They left hours before we did.”

 

“First of all, stop calling me love. Second, they were there. I felt them.”

 

“Eve,” he emphasized. “A lot was happening. I’m sure you confused it with something else.”

 

“I don’t think so,” I said, but I frowned.

 

A lot had happened, and fast, too. Maybe something else had been in the forest with us. Another witch, perhaps? All I knew for sure was that I still felt horrible with hate only a thought away. It had left patches of darkness in my mind like the hot embers of an extinguished fire.

 

“You’ve had a terrible ordeal,” Boaz said, crossing the threshold into his home. “Let’s get you something to eat and a place to rest.”

 

I hesitated briefly before following. Only a couple of days. It would all be over before I knew it.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

Boaz opened the doors into a grand foyer that was as wide as it was tall. I stepped inside, and when a gust of cool air rushed by me, I rubbed my arms with my hands.

 

“Wait here,” Boaz said before disappearing behind a door to his left. I didn’t have a chance to stop him.

 

The inside of the home was a sharp contrast from the décor of my parent’s. It was more rustic and…cruel. It was the first word that popped into my head, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. It’s not as though the oil paintings of various night landscapes hanging on the walls screamed ‘I-want-to-hurt-you’; in fact, they were quite beautiful on their own, but combined with the rest of the home’s decorations, including a silver spiked chandelier just above my head, I didn’t feel safe.

 

In less than a minute, Boaz returned followed by a thin woman with graying hair. Her black dress made her complexion appear paler than she really was. When my eyes met hers, she quickly looked down and did not look at me again.

 

“Eve, this is Mariel. She will be your personal servant while you are here and will get you whatever you need, whenever you want it.”

 

Mariel nodded vigorously.

 

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