“I think this conversation is best had in private.” She says, getting up from the table and leaving her plate.
Salem goes to follow but is interrupted by a woman who looks like she could be Salem’s older sister.
“Mom?” Salem shrieks, as she’s enveloped by a hug. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Yes, well. Plans changed.” Her voice sounds raspy, as if she smokes two packs of cigarettes a day. “Who’s your friend?” She asks, coming over to me and offering her hand like a claw to me.
I take it, while Salem tells her my name.
“Nice to meet you.” I say, looking at Salem for clarity on how to proceed here. She looks shaken up, surprised by her mom’s sudden appearance.
“Come, we have a lot to catch up on.” Her mom says, grabbing Salem around the shoulder.
Salem looks back at me, eyes wide.
“You don’t mind if I steal my daughter for a moment, do you Walker?” Her mom asks, still holding Salem. Salem looks like she’d like nothing more than to spontaneously liquify herself right now to avoid being touched. I look to Salem to see what she wants to do, but she shrugs her shoulder giving me a nod to let me know that she’s got this.
“Sure thing.” I say watching her lead Salem down the hallway lined with family portraits.
I just hope I made the right decision.
ChapterFifty-One
SALEM
SONG: BURN BY 2WEI, EDDA HAYES
Mom leads me to what used to be my grandfather’s study, but now serves as a library, although, the smell of cigars still subtly permeates the air. “Ah, Katherine, you came.” My grandmother says from her chair in front of the fireplace.
“Yes, well it’s a holiday. I heard you spend those with family.” Mom says, taking a seat on the settee and motioning for me to join her. It feels weird to be in the same room as her, with how absent she’s been my whole life. Flitting in and out whenever it was convenient for her. She’s never felt like a mother to me, more like someone I know that gave birth to me. I’d spent so much of my childhood wishing that she would stick around, crying myself to sleep more times than I could remember while she was off anywhere but here.
I reluctantly oblige to my mother’s request, sitting next to her while my grandmother snorts into her wine glass. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, Katherine. Unless you’re here for money.”
“I hadn’t had a chance to bring it up yet, but my credit card isn’t working again.” I say, pulling at my dress. I know she’s talking to my mom, but it reminds me that I need to sort out my credit card situation again.
My grandmother waves her hand in the air. “I’ll fix it. I turned it off so you would have a reason to call me.”
I take in a sharp breath. I hate how I was right, knowing that she turned it off on purpose. Not even considering the repercussions of doing something like that. It makes me feel small, like I’m just something for her to control.
“Anyways, you wanted to know if we are witches.” She says, crossing her legs.
Mom swivels her head over at me, mouth agape.
“Calm down Katherine, it’s high time she knew where she came from.”
“But we agreed!” Mom cries out.
“Mom. I have a right to know. I’m tired of you both trying to keep me in the dark all the time. Trying to mold me into someone I’m not. I can handle this.”
“Katherine, grab the grimoire.”
Mom wavers for a moment, muttering something about not coming all this way for this bullshit, before getting up to grab a dusty book from the shelves. It’s thick and obviously old, with crinkled brown edges and a small brown rope holding the binding together. Mom places it on the coffee table between the settee and my grandmother’s chair.
“How much do you know already, child?” Grandma Clementine asks, setting her empty wine glass down.
“I know that I have magic. I know that there’s demons in the world, and hell dogs, and who knows what else. I know someone tried to kill me, several times. I know about the veil between our world and Purgatory being located on Possession.”
Grandma purses her lips, and Mom gets up and grabs a bottle of liquor from the liquor cart in the corner, pouring herself a generous amount of vodka. Typical.
