“You think that’s all you’re good for, girl? Killing folks? That’s your gran’s doing. Got your head twisted right around. You can tell when someone’s lying. When they’re a no-good son of a whore. That’s gold, right there. Just look at your ranch. Your gran has a score of cowhands, and not one ever lays a hand on you girls or your cattle. They’re decent men. That’s how your magic ought to be used. For good.”
I struggle to comprehend her meaning. She wants me as some kind of truth detector. She’s thinking of all the ways it would be helpful in business to know whether or not someone can be trusted.
Is that better than killing folks? Depends on how you look at it. It’s easier, that’s for sure, but what we doisgood work. Gran says it’s like putting down a sick cow before she infects the herd. We put down killers before they hurt anyone else. What Paula’s talking about only benefits herself.
“You’d like to stop killing folks, wouldn’t you?” she wheedles. “And marry my Billy? He picked you from your cousins. He likes you.”
I turn to Billy, and my gut twists. He stands there, face empty, the darkness swirling around him. That darkness calls to me. It whispers that I should draw closer. I don’t want to. I really don’t, but I know I must.
Billy’s shadow seeps toward me. It whispers, like a child bursting to share secrets.
Let me tell you my truth.
Let me tell you what I’ve done.
I cautiously crack open the door, and his shadow shoves it wide and rushes in, images flooding over me, and I stagger back under the weight of them.
Oh, Paula.
In that moment, I will allow myself to feel sorry for her. To take pity on her.
Paula brought us the story of those families slaughtered on the trail west. I know now why she chose that one. Because she’d been nearby when it happened, in the town the families had left before their deaths. Left and been tracked by Billy. Murdered by Billy.
In the vision, he’s calmly awaiting his chance, a snake hiding in the long prairie grass. I see him slit the throats of the parents as they slept. I see him methodically hunt down the children as they scatter. I see what he did to the bodies after to make it look like they’d been set upon by a raiding party. And I see him rifling through their belongings, taking only the best, like when a stray dog slaughtered our whole flock of hens and only ate a few bites.
I see more, too. I see that he wasn’t alone. I see his partner, vomiting after, telling Billy to leave the bodies, that he doesn’t need to do anything to them. Maybe so, but Billy does it anyway. He wants to do it.
My gaze swings to Chester. The older man flinches, like he knows what I see.
Oh, Paula.
You’ve got no idea, do you?
I turn to Paula. “What if I said you were wrong?”
Her face scrunches. “Wrong about what?”
“You say I inherited my power from my momma. I never knew my momma. My ma killed her. She did something—I got no idea what, but it was bad enough that she deserved killing. I was a baby. Ma scooped me up and brought me home.”
Paula’s brow furrows more. “But you’ve got the magic. Your real ma must have been a Riley. She went bad.”
I shake my head. “There’s none of Gran’s blood running through my veins. None of her blood running in my ma’s or my Auntie May’s or Auntie June’s either.”
Now it’s Paula’s turn to say, “I don’t understand.”
“They ain’t related, Ma,” Billy says, his voice sharp with disdain. “The magic don’t come from the blood. That’s why there’s no menfolk living on that ranch. Therewereno menfolk. They ain’t never been married.”
I nod. “The Rileys take girl children from those they’ve got to kill. Girl children who’d be left alone with no one to raise them.”
“Then they give them the magic,” Paula says.
I see the moment understanding hits, her eyes glittering.
“So youcouldgive it to me,” she says. “Me and my boy.”
“Just you. That’s why it’s always girl children. The magic only works with them. Gran says, once upon a time, a Riley woman lost her whole family to a fellow who tricked her into thinking he was a good man. A witch gave her the power to see the shadow side and showed her how to give it to her daughters, only she never had more, so she adopted two little girls. Out here, there’s always babies needing folks to raise them, especially girls. So that’s what we do. If you want the power, I can give it to you.”
Paula licks her lips. “Course, I want it.”
