Witch (Cursed book 4) Page 6

  Jake shook his head and stepped in front of her, “I will do whatever you want, leave her out of this.”

  Dorian scowled, “Really? You would do whatever I want, to spare her?”

  The guy looked ready to lose it but he clenched his jaw and nodded, “Let her go and her sister too.” He wrapped his arms around his back to pull Ophelia to him.

  Dorian pointed at the kid and raised his eyebrows, “Who is this kid?”

  Sam sighed, “This is Ophelia and her boyfriend. He came with us because she used glamour on the entire town. Dorian, I need to go to Greece—I don’t have time for this shit. Take them inside and make her stop crying.”

  Dorian smiled at the guy, “I may still take you up on your offer, later.”

  Sam grimaced, “Okay, well maybe I’ll take you guys inside, because I don’t even want to know where we are going with this conversation.” He grabbed Ophelia by the hand and pulled her and her boyfriend up the stairs and through the doorway.

  “She be bad juju, Mister Sam. I don’ts want her in my house.”

  He felt Annabelle’s resistance to her in the air.

  He looked to see the maid blocking the hallway with her body.

  Sam shook his head, “She’s okay Annabelle.”

  Annabelle crossed her arms, “She be stronger than me. That never be okay.”

  He laughed, “I know. Annabelle this is Ophelia and her boyfriend—what’s your name, dude?”

  The kid stood completely stunned by the talking ghost.

  Sam snapped a finger in front of his eyes, making him look up, “Huh what?”

  “Name?”

  “Jake. Is she—ah—uhm—a ghost?”

  Sam nodded, “She is a witch like your girlfriend here.”

  Jake nodded, “I can see the door handle behind her.” And with that, he was gone. The big, strong, brave young man was unconscious.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ophelia

  The furniture was old. It suited the house perfectly. She felt safer than she had all evening. She sat on the couch silently. Jake lay on the huge sofa across from her. He was still completely out of it.

  “We have to send him back.”

  She looked up to see the ghostly maid standing/floating in the doorway.

  She felt her heart quicken, “Why?”

  “He’ll die around here real fast.” She floated across the room and sniffed, “Surprised you never killed him yet.”

  Ophelia frowned, “Why do you all keep saying these things about me. I’m no witch. I’m a regular girl. I want to go home. I'm being haunted by a poltergeist. I want my mom and dad and my sister. Do you know where they’re keeping her?”

  “Ophelia welcome. I’m Lydia. It’s so nice to meet you finally, my dear.”

  She turned to see an older woman walking into the room. Something about her made Ophelia feel relaxed. The older woman took her hands and squeezed them. “Please sit and relax. You’ve had an odd day, I would imagine. That was some prom you manifested.”

  ‘Trust her, Ophelia. She’s like us.’

  She tried to ignore the voices but she watched, as the older lady seemed to sense them there.

  Ophelia nodded, feeling herself getting teary again, “It's been a terrible week. First, he froze, then they chased me, the voices, then the wolf, my sister, and prom, and now here.” She knew she wasn’t making sense, but she felt lost in it all.

  Lydia laughed bitterly, “Nothing I haven’t heard before, my love. Sit and have some tea. It will relax you. Now how much do you know?”

  Ophelia shrugged, “About what?”

  Lydia looked over at the ghost, “I guess we’ll start at the beginning. Your parents are very powerful people, Ophelia.”

  “Vic and Helen are my parents.”

  She smiled a sweet, old-lady smile, “Of course, you would believe that. Anyway, your real parents are very powerful people. Your father wanted a son, for a very long time. Purposefully, your mother only ever gave birth to girls. They were, well…”

  “Slaughtered, Miss Ophelia. My sisters and I feels it every time he takes another one. The light leaves the earth for a day when the magic is taken into the dark. Don’t be sugarcoating none of this, Miss Lydia. None of it.”

  Ophelia shook her head, “I don’t get it. I don’t have sisters who are dead. Just Abbey. My parents are boring people. You have the wrong person.”

  “No sweetie, the people who’ve raised you were not your real parents. They too believed you were theirs, but you were put there.”

  The words stung. She felt the truth in them somehow, but she pushed it away. She shook her head, as if it stopped the words from sinking in. “No, no, no, no.”

  ‘She tells the truth, sister.’

  She looked up suddenly to see the six balls of light separate and fill the room with light. They became the ghostly figures they had been before. They each looked identical to her, but with blue lights instead of eyes.

  “How?” Lydia gasped, looking around the room.

  Ophelia couldn’t help but be thankful that someone besides her could see the ghostly women.

  “Ophelia, have they been with you long?”

  She shook her head, watching the six mirror images, “They came the other day.”

  Lydia shook her head, “What’s special about this week? Hmmm, it’s only June. Your birthday will be in July.”

  Ophelia frowned, “My birthday is September 21st.”

  Lydia shook her head, “No, we know you were born in July.” She counted the six floating balls, “July 7th, if I’m not mistaken."

  Her eyes grew frightened for a second, as she looked at the ghostly maid who scowled.

  “She be the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter, born on the seventh day of the seven month? That be great. Just great. Just dandy.” The maid vanished.

  Ophelia frowned, “Why does she hate me?”

  Lydia laughed, “She doesn’t, sweetie. She just fears what’s next. You are the prophecy, I’m afraid.”

  Ophelia shook her head, “This day is just getting better by the second. What prophecy? You people have me confused. I'm telling you. I'm not the girl.”

  Lydia looked up as a redhead walked into the room with a very tall, young man and a pretty blonde girl. The blonde looked haunted.

  “The prophecy of the end of days. You've heard of Armageddon?” the redhead spoke with a bite in her tone.

  Ophelia felt her breath quicken, “You people speak in riddles, just answer a question.”

  The blonde laughed bitterly, “It gets so much worse. I still don’t get straight answers and I’ve been here for years. I’m Aimee and while this seems like some kind of odd dinner theatre production, it isn’t.” She put a hand out and forced a smile across her lips.

  Ophelia took the girl’s hand and attempted a smile, “Ophelia. It does seem like a play or a movie.”

  “This is Lorri and Lucas.”

  Ophelia smiled and tried not to point out that they were standing amongst her pretend ghosts. They didn’t seem to see them hovering there, looking spooky.

  “Do you ever have dreams that seem like they’re trying to tell you something?”

  She shook her head, “No.”

  The ghost maid came toward her, “Does some peoples act like they don’t sees you?”

  Ophelia blushed as she looked at Jake and nodded her head, “Sometimes. My aunt. She swore up and down, she couldn’t see me.”

  Annabelle threw her arms in the air, “The witches who saved her put a curse on her. Baby girl, you are trouble. You Roses is biting off too much this time.” She was gone again before Ophelia could ask her any questions.

  She looked at the people left in the room and scowled, “Is anyone going to tell me, what’s really going on?” She wanted to know where her sister was. Not to mention, where she was. She looked back at Jake and sighed.

  “Ophelia dear, we are telling you the truth. You are more special than you know. Come sit by me.” Lydia pa
tted the couch and smiled, as if she were her grandmother and about to offer her a cookie.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sam

  Her red hair stood out against the brunettes. He watched her smile and laugh through the small window of the tiny, Greek kitchen. It was just like the other times. He watched her laugh and smile or read. As always, she was clueless to his spying eye. From the moment he had met her, he had known, she was his. He would never forget seeing her splash of strawberry-blond hair against her father’s chest, before the accident. He remembered her mother taking her own life. He tried to block out the unhappy memories. He tried not to remember the pain on her father’s face, the tears that streamed before the rage took him.

  Sam had never suspected Marcus in the blame for her mother’s death. No one had. His advances toward her mother had been kept secret. She had never told anyone. Sam had always loved her like an aunt. She was of the few sirens who had shown love and sisterly affections toward his mother. They had visited him and his mother on the Canadian island many times when Hanna was tiny.

  His heart ached, watching her through the window.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  He looked at Lorri standing beside him. She had moved there silently.

  “I go where my heart is, Lorri.”

  Lorri watched Hanna laugh and enjoy meeting the other sirens. After a few moments she spoke, “They could come for you, if they sense you.”

  He felt the grim smile cross his lips, “I would kill them all.”

  “Samuel.”

  The tone in her voice told him there was no negotiating with her.

  He watched for one more second, before flashing back to the woods in Lydia’s backyard. He felt the distance between them instantly crush his chest. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the wet moss soaking through his jeans. The extreme difference between late June in Portland Oregon and Ithaca Greece became obvious, as he felt the cold mist creep into his skin.

  He wished for a second he could shift into an animal and go kill things in the forest. He wished Ben were there. Ben would make him laugh and make snide comments about Hanna.

  He heard footsteps behind him in the moist grass. He looked back at the haunted face of Aimee walking toward him.

  “Can we talk?” her voice cracked.

  He wanted to say no. He wanted to dislike her as much as she disliked Hanna, but he couldn’t. He loved her like a sister.

  He stood and nodded.

  She sat on the bench next to the lake. He watched her eyes gloss over as she struggled with her breath.

  His chest ached again but not for Hanna. It hurt, knowing the losses were fresh wounds that festered instead of healing.

  “I can’t do it anymore.” she whispered.

  “I know. I miss them too, Aims.” He felt moisture threaten his eyes, as he pushed away the thoughts of Ben and the many nights they had spent laughing and joking. He had become the brother Sam never had.

  “I made the wrong choice, S-S-Sam.” Her voice broke on his name. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I knew he would be there waiting for me. I knew it wouldn’t always work with Shane. He’s human. I knew it wouldn’t last. I just loved him for so long. It felt like the choice my heart would have made before.” She broke into sobs.

  Sam dropped to his knees in front of her and encased her with his body. Her shaking cries filled his chest, as she lost the control she always struggled to maintain.

  Sam had gotten tired of her battles with which guy to love. He had always hoped she would just chose Aleksander and be done with it. He liked Shane just fine, but the whole mortal thing had been doomed from the start.

  He rubbed her back and let her wreak havoc on his t-shirt with her tears, and God only knew what else.

  “I can’t face him. I can’t see him. I need to, but I’m scared.”

  “I know, Aims. I’m scared too.”

  She pulled back, wiping her puffy cheeks, “I feel like I’m never going to get my sister back and Blake is going to kill her. I feel like everything is lost. You know?”

  “Yeah, I do. You bitches have been hard on my lady and now she’s in Greece. They hate me in Greece. They hate angels. Well, they hate humans too. They hate everyone. You should go there. You'd fit in.”

  She laughed and slapped his chest, “I don’t hate everyone. I like you. And we were nice to her. Very nice.” She leaned in and sniffed. She closed her eyes for a second and let it fill her. He felt almost violated by how long she lingered.

  “You smell like him.”

  Sam bit his bottom lip to stop the sarcastic shitty comments from flying from his mouth. She was vulnerable and afraid. He needed to remember that.

  She opened her grey eyes and smiled, “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged, “I get it. We’ve been through a lot, Ari and the messing around of your memories, and Ben and Aleks. I’m just grateful that we have each other."

  “I guess. I just wish it was all easier, you know?”

  “Aimee, you need to be honest with him. His life is short. He needs to be able to move on. It’s hard to hear it right now, but it will get better with time.”

  A hurt look crossed her face, “I’m just so scared to make the wrong choice. One side of me wants Shane, just like the other side of me wanted Aleks.”

  He sighed, “Okay, this is going to sound brutal and harsh but you need it. You broke Aleks' heart and then he died. You can't say you wish you'd made another choice. The choice you made is over. There is no getting that time back. Aims, you have enough on your plate. Worrying about the life of a human is a big one to add to that. You’ve got like three humans to worry about.”

  “Four."

  He raised an eyebrow, "Four?"

  "Blake isn’t evil. I know him. He isn’t doing this on purpose.”

  He didn’t want to touch that one with a mile-long pole. She had a hard time being wrong.

  He nodded and smiled.

  “Want to go kill shit?”

  He laughed, “What?” He wondered if she'd listened to anything he'd said.

  Her demon smile crossed her lips, “I know someone who deserves a visit from us.”

  He felt his stomach rumble, “I’m hungry. Can we eat first?” He shivered, remembering what she did the last time she was angry. She had pulled the soul so violently that blood had shot from the person and splattered everywhere. Lucas had loved it, but Sam had nearly thrown up. Lucas had been calling him Nancy ever since.

  “You go ahead and eat. I’m saving my appetite for later.”

  He scrunched up his nose, “You have that look. The one where people bleed everywhere.”

  She laughed bitterly, “They taste better scared. I so get what Dorian’s deal is with it. He likes them afraid before he does it too.”

  “Dealers are disgusting. I’m a lover not a fighter.” He stood and lifted her up to her feet.

  “Yeah, whatever. Every time we go anywhere, we learn another new talent of yours.” Her eyes turned serious again, “Thanks for letting me miss him.”

  Sam shrugged, “You let me love Hanna and obsess about her, and even talked me out of trying to kill Marcus.”

  She pointed at him, “That would have been a mistake. You would have died.”

  “Aleks would be alive instead of me. It would have been better that way.”

  Her words were a whisper in the night air, “Never say that, Sam. He wouldn’t want it that way. He was better than us all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ophelia

  “You new?”

  Ophelia looked up from the picture she couldn’t take her eyes off, to see the most beautiful girl she had ever seen in her life. She was exotic.

  The girl frowned, “You speak English?”

  Ophelia laughed, “Sorry. Been a long day. Yeah, I guess I’m new.”

  The girl smiled, making her face so stunning, Ophelia almost had to look away, “Oh cool. I’m Giselle.” She sighed and slumped into the chair beside her at t
he huge table.

  “I’m Ophelia.”

  “What flavor are you?” She twirled her hair and raised her perfectly-manicured eyebrows.

  Ophelia looked deeply into her dark eyes, “Is that a trick question?” She nearly felt lost.

  Giselle looked at her and smiled dreamily, “No. You make me feel funny. I meant what kind of monster are you?”

  "Monster? You mean like the wolf and the ghost?"

  Giselle smiled, just as bright white fangs dropped out of the plump lips.

  “AHHHH OH MY GOD!” Ophelia jumped up and backed away from the table, "Oh my God. Oh my God. What are you?"

  Giselle put her hand up to her lips covering them, as if she was ashamed, “Oh thnap thorry. Thtupid fangth. They’re like a dude’th thingy. They jutht pop up randomly.”

  Ophelia grimaced, “What? What? Oh my God? What thingy? You mean… oh my God.”

  She was backed against the counter completely, but still trying to back away.

  Giselle laughed, “I’m not like gay or anything. I mean not yet. Dorian thaid I might get bored, eventually. I gueth he had thith like phathe. Anyway. Uhm yeah. Thorry. The blood rushed there and then they came. Give it a minute and they’ll go away again. You just thmell so good.”

  Ophelia shook her head, completely confused, “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  She pointed to her face, “The fangth make my ethh thound funny. I can't thay all the wordth. Like thally and thue and thorry and thupid. It’th the fangth.”

  Ophelia started to laugh, “I know what the words are, I just don’t know what you mean. I’m err—not a—err monster.”

  Giselle walked toward her and focused her dark eyes intently and spoke in a creepy voice slowly, “Look into my eyeth and hear my voith. You will remember nothing that I thay. You didn’t thee my fangth.”

  “Giselle, dear what are you doing?” Lydia walked into the kitchen holding the album she had promised to show Ophelia.

  Giselle sighed and put her hands over her eyes, “She’th a normal girl. She thaw my fangth.”