No way in hell would I let that happen.
“There she is!” someone yelled. The crowd raced toward us, enveloping Sheryl as they swung signs and yelled obscenities.
“We can’t have her type in our church!” a woman screamed.
“Fornicators and witches are not welcome here!” Another bellowed.
“Get out of our village!”
Dora did this.
Anger welled up inside me. I’d been raised in an environment of intolerance and judgement. But through it all, even though I disagreed with almost everything they stood for, my parents never judgedme. They put me before their faith and loved me unconditionally. They showed me that religion and tolerance could go hand in hand and that good people could be found anywhere.
In that moment, I missed them more than ever.
My heart tore open and fresh grief spilled over, splattering onto the street below. I gripped the edge of the car door, holding my shaking body upright.
“What are you doing?” I yelled. “You dare to call yourselves good Christians? You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
“How dare you speak the Lord’s name, Satan’s harlot!” Dora spat. “He sees everything you do up there at the castle of sin. He sees all the perverse, deviant acts?—”
“He’s a bit of a pervert himself then, spying on innocent people behind closed doors,” I shouted back. “If your God wants to watch real people being kind to each other, then he’s more than welcome. It would be more than he ever sees in any of your homes!”
The anger burned and bubbled in my veins, reaching inside me and tugging at something deep within my chest. I burst with the raw, fresh pain of losing my parents – two people who didn’t deserve to die, but had been taken while judgmental wankers like Dora had been allowed to live.
My palm slammed down on the front of the car. The cone of power sizzled and bubbled inside of me. I thought of the nicest, happiest thing I could think of, and Ipushed.
Everyone in the mob gasped as the image entered their hands at the same time. My family and I sitting around at Ruby’s Diner after a church meeting, laughing and enjoying each other’scompany. A proper family. A family that loved and cared for all its members, no matter their beliefs.
Dora’s eyes bugged out of her head.
“Witch!” she yelled, jabbing a shaking finger at me. “She’s a witch, just like her wretched mother!”
“What is this?” I yelled back. “The seventeenth century? This town is full of witches – your whole main street is wall-to-wall crystal shops and tarot readers. Don’t try to hide behind righteousness just because you don’t understand your history. Witches saved your village. They saved the whole world, and?—”
“Time to go,” Flynn’s arms wrapped around me. He tried to drag me back into the car. I struggled against his grip.
“I’ve got to show them?—”
“Don’t let this be another repeat of the window at the pub. Let’s go.”
I sagged against Flynn, all the fight gone out of me. He was right. As much as I wanted to burn them all, that was stooping to their level. They were just being idiots because they were scared.
I waved at Jane to get back in the car. She slammed the door just as someone tossed a tomato at the back window.
“What the bloody hell?” the driver cried. “That’s my car!”
“Drive, you eejit!” Flynn yelled.
I slammed my door as the driver stepped on the gas and tore down the street. More rotting fruit pelted the back of the windshield. My heart racing, I turned around to look at Jane. Tears streamed down her face.
“Connor’s not baptized,” she said, wiping furiously at the tears. “How are we going to keep him safe now?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
BLAKE
As soon as Maeve, Flynn, Jane, and the baby were gone, I called the local curry house using the weird voice projection device Rowan had shown me (he called it a mobile phone, I called it magic, because when I spoke into it, a man on the other end answered in a beautiful singsong voice and it was freaky as fuck) and placed a large order for delivery.
