I watched as the plants swayed toward her, a single leaf touching the surface of the blood as it drank. She ran a delicate finger over the rosebud that bloomed as she watched, and the irony of the moment wasn’t lost on me.
Willow was the last of the Hecate witches—the intended keeper of the bones and a necromancer of great power if she could find them. But life followed her everywhere she went, drawn to her in a way I couldn’t remember any of the previous Madizzas inciting.
“It’s fascinating, really. Watching the way she interacts with the plants,” Kairos observed, his head tipping to the side. I growled, turning my attention away from my witchling to give the Vessel a warning even he couldn’t ignore. He rolled his eyes. “Not like that. She’s life, but she’s also death. There’s never been a witch like her. The things she’s capable of…”
He swallowed, and I realized the man wouldn’t underestimate Willow. The fear he held for her was healthy, his eyes widening when Willow raised a hand, and the rosebush grew taller. The vines extended, lengthening as the plant shot toward the building and climbed up an abandoned trellis. Willow stood, raising her stare to the window where we watched her as those roses came to a stop just below the windowsill.
Point taken.
I turned away from the window, guiding Kairos to give her the distance she required. She could have her privacy for now.
It would take time for Willow to come to terms with what we were to one another, for the depths of the obsession she’d only intensified by giving me her virginity. By the time she understood, it would be too late for her.
“Someone hurt her last night. I expect Juliet will have an answer for me when I return,” I said, accepting his nod as affirmation. Willow might not be willing to condemn those who had done it.
But I certainly fucking would.
33
WILLOW
Gray stepped away from the window finally, giving me a reprieve from the feeling of his eyes on me. I’d come out to the gardens to be alone for a few moments, to sink myself into the only thing that made sense to me.
Nature was constant. It ebbed and flowed, but the force of it always lingered in the earth, waiting for something to draw it to the surface.
Waiting for someone to love it so it could meet its full potential.
The rose bush dipped a stem into the dirt, a single leaf forming a cup as it scooped up a bit of dirt. Raising it to my hand, it dropped the dirt into my open palm and let it heal the wound I’d created to give them new life.
“Bene facis,” I murmured, running the tip of my pointer finger over the sharp edge of the leaflet.
I rose to my feet, smiling as I backed away from the portion of the garden I’d already brought back. I wouldn’t allow Susannah’s machinations to pollute the earth to continue. I’d do whatever I could to preserve that which was truly innocent in her crimes. I walked through the gardens, losing track of time as I allowed my thoughts to wander. I didn’t know what last night meant for the future of my duty, if I would be able to find the bones if Gray helped me as he said he would.
And what if he did? Would I turn around and Unmake him after?
I stared toward the school, swaying toward the stones of the building and running my fingers over the abrasive surface. There was evil and corruption within those walls. That couldn’t be denied.
But there was also Della, with the kindness and compassion she’d shown me when I’d lost my shit the night of the Reaping. She’d been far more patient than she needed to be, never pressing me for more information to appease her curiosity.
She’d been a friend when I needed one the most.
There was Iban, with his quiet steadfastness and flirtation. Iban, who was so determined to find the love of his life that he’d given up a huge part of who he was.
Margot, who had suffered and didn’t like to be touched, but no one had ever taught her that just because her magic was rooted in desire didn’t mean she had to participate in it.
There was corruption, but there were also decent people who didn’t know any better or understand the consequences the Coven would cause.
My neck prickled, forcing me to spin back to face the path. The hair on my arms rose, alerting me to something approaching that I didn’t understand. I’d never had those senses before coming to Crystal Hollow.
I’d never felt things coming or seen the past in my dreams. I wondered if it was the proximity to the bones, if even them being somewhere closer was enough to bring my abilities to the surface to some extent.
Not the physical, but the internal magic.
The bones of half the Covenant approached as if I’d summoned her with my thoughts. There was something so tense in the set of her jaw that my skin crawled.
“Susannah,” I said cautiously. I hadn’t forgotten what she’d done the last time we’d been alone.
What she’d threatened to do.
But these gardens were my territory, and the roses swayed into the path and blocked her from reaching me.
“I’ve no intention of hurting you today, Willow,” Susannah said, as if I was an insufferable problem that she intended to rid herself of.
“Then what do you want?” I asked, waving a hand.
The roses retracted back into their garden beds, staying ready if Susannah chose to change her mind. My blood was so fresh here, they would defend me even without my request.
“I knew there was something wrong about you the moment I saw you,” she said, her eyes dropping to the fresh puncture wounds on my neck. There was a set on either side, one from last night and one from this morning, and she shoved her hand into her pocket as she made a disgusted sigh.
“Likewise,” I said, smiling sweetly. “Though I think yours is probably a little more obvious. Bag of bones and all.”
“It took me too long to decide why you looked so familiar, even though you look nothing like Flora did,” she said, pulling her hand from her pocket slowly.
I swallowed, my eyes dropping to the picture she held in her hands. It was in black and white, but the face of a woman stared back at me as she held it out for me to take. It was a face I’d seen far too often in my father’s cabin.
One I’d seen in my dream.
One that he hated to see staring back at him when he looked at me.
“You’re the spitting image of Loralei, girl,” she said, her voice dropping low as she spoke the words. “Your aunt, if I assume correctly?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, shaking my head in denial. “I’ve never met this woman.”
“Of course you haven’t,” Susannah scoffed. “She was murdered within these walls long before you were born. That doesn’t mean you don’t know exactly what she is.”
I dropped my hand, letting the picture fall to my side as I considered my options. It wouldn’t take much to find my father now that she knew what she was looking for. There had to be records of his birth somewhere, and all things hidden could be found once someone knew what to look for.