“Do you think she’ll be there?”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to concentrate on the road.
“Do you want her to be?” Stevie asks.
“I’m not sure. What do you say to your mother after she tries to sacrifice you?”
“Good point.”
The cottage is basically in the middle of nowhere. It’s a bumpy ride as the Jeep handles the gravel driveway. It’s desolate, and it’s honestly a great place to hide. I have no idea why she hired Ryan to be her realtor. Not that she took much of an interest in my life, or that we spoke often, she at least had to be privy to the fact that we were dating.
This driveway has to be at least three miles long before we reach the cottage. It looks unkempt and decrepit. If you walked past it or stumbled upon it during a hike, you would think no one lives here. Her car isn’t out front and since it’s daytime, I can’t tell if there are any lights on in the house.
I sigh as I park the car, and both Stevie and I get out.
“Do you sense anything?” she asks and I shake my head. I would have assumed she would have put wards up around the home. At least something.
We walk up the porch of the cottage, curving my hands to look in the windows and not seeing anything. The plank porch creaks as I reach the front door.
Chancing my luck, I turn the knob and see if it’s locked. It’s not, the cool metal of the gold feels daunting on my palm as I turn it. The door creaks eerily as I open it all the way. The inside is completely polished, looking nothing like the exterior. It’s simple and not high end, but it’s clean and modern enough.
The foyer is small. There are rain boots and a single jacket hanging on the hook. Straight ahead is an open concept living room, dining room, kitchen combo. There’s a TV on mute with the captions playing and a small purple couch in the living room. The dining room space has nothing and the plain wooden kitchen is spotless.
There are three doors to the back of the cabin. I would imagine two bedrooms and a bathroom.
“Let’s stick together,” Stevie says, grabbing my wrist. I don’t want to sound like a scared little bitch right now, but something feels off. Ominous, almost. My mother might be a raging bitch, but she’s the High Priestess. Seemingly the most powerful in the coven. She wouldn’t leave her home open like this. She would have at least had wards up. At a bare minimum, the door would have been locked. Josie is a lot of things and paranoid sits pretty high on the list.
A low thump makes both Stevie and I jump. We hear it again.Thump. Thump. Thump.The noise is rhythmic and almost like someone is knocking on a door.
“I think it’s coming from the door on the left,” I tell Stevie. She nods her head, her grip nearly bruising my wrist.
“This is so fucked,” Stevie says.
“Perspicuss,” I whisper. It’s a defensive spell. Anyone who is looking at us will see us, but not clearly. It will confuse them and at least give us a chance to escape if need be. I’m prepared to do what I need to if it comes down to it.
“Good idea,” Stevie whispers. The thudding noise doesn’t stop. It only gets louder and louder. Stevie and I walk toward the door where the sound is coming from.
I don’t want to tip off whoever or whatever is in that room to our presence. My hand slowly grips the brass door handle. As slowly as I can manage, I twist the knob and I crack the door. The noise never stops, still on pace with before, so I open it even further. Stevie’s grip is tight on my upper arm as we both look into the room.
What I find was not what I was suspecting at all. It’s my mother looking haggard and exhausted. Her hair hasn’t been brushed, and she’s wearing a nightgown. Her feet are black and disgusting, like she’s been running around outside for days. She bangs her head violently against the wall of the bedroom. I can see her lips moving, but I can’t hear anything she is saying.
“Josie?” I say. She looks over, confused, obviously not being able to see anything. She turns her head back to the wall and continues to hit her head. A trail of blood beads from her hairline, down her cheekbones and jaw until it drips onto the floor.
“Perspicuss finis,” I whisper. Stevie’s hand is nearly cutting off the circulation to my arm. “Josie?” I ask, calling my mother’s name again.
She turns and looks at me and Stevie. Whoever is looking at me, isn’t fully my mother. While I can sense the presence of her magic, it’s been significantly weakened.
“Make it stop,” she says, looking at me. There’s a crazed glimmer in her eye.
“Make what stop?”
“The pain. She took it all. I was good for a while. She said I was good. But I wasn’t good enough. Not strong enough.” She’s pacing, looking at the wall again. There’s a smear of her blood against the off-white paint.
“Who said that?”
“Ugh! Don’t be fucking stupid!” she screams before she paces again. Her eyes dart back to the wall and she hits her head again.
“What the fuck do we do?” Stevie asks.
