She dropped to her knees and pulled up a couple of loose floorboards, dropping the trunk down into the concealed space beneath to hide it before replacing the planks.
“You’ve seen what is yet to come, haven’t you?” Bridget murmured.
Hester let loose a deep, troubled breath. “I’ve seen a great many things, some still unclear.”
Hester pushed to her feet and crossed the cabin, glancing out of the window with frosted edges and staring contemplatively as the sunlight reflected back from the thick white blanket of snow, which had fallen steadily throughout the night.
“We’re going to have to move on again soon,” Bridget murmured as she too stared out of the window. “The magic we called last night will act as a beacon for miles around. The wounds of Salem are still too fresh in everyone’s minds. It is not safe for us to remain.”
Hester stared for a moment longer before turning her clear gaze on her sister. “We can’t leave, Bridey,” she said softly.
“What?” Bridget tilted her head as she studied her sister. “Why not?”
“Because.” Hester turned back to the window, her gaze veering off toward the heart of the woods and the circle. “It’s our responsibility.”
“You said it would hold.” Bridget rose slowly and crossed the room to stand beside Hester. “The trap is sealed with blood magic.”
“I know.” Hester swallowed tightly. “But I can feel it. I’m bound to this place now. The magic will hold for as long as one of our blood inhabits this land.”
Bridget let out a slow, distressed breath. “Others will come, you know they will.”
“Yes,” Hester agreed. “But not in the way you think. It won’t be like Salem. Others will come, drawn to this place just as we were. They’ll feel the power beneath, and they will draw from it. This will become a haven for our kind, and here, we’ll thrive.” Hester reached out and grasped her sister’s hand, squeezing reassuringly. “They won’t be able to harm us, not here. This will become our home.”
“Our home?” Bridget’s lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. “And what will we call our new home?”
“The name came to me in the dream,” Hester muttered. “Something never afforded us, nor others of our kind.” When she turned to stare at her sister, her eyes were filled with purpose.
“Its name is Mercy.”
1
Present day.
Welcome to Mercy, Massachusetts
Pop. 13,623
The blurred letters mocked Olivia through the annoying intermittent squeak of her wiper blades. Rain misted the windshield as her whiskey-colored eyes narrowed, locked on the offending sign. Her stomach tightened in an uncomfortable knot of messy emotions she wasn’t ready to start picking apart and her brow creased into an unconscious frown as she chewed her bottom lip, and her fingers tapped out a restless staccato on the wheel.
“What the hell are you doing, Olivia?”
She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the relentless question pounding continuously through her skull.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Her frustrated gaze drifted to the mirror as she studied her reflection. Her skin was unusually pale against her dark hair and faint shadows were smudged beneath her wide, glassy eyes. Great, she thought to herself sourly. She hadn’t even set foot in the town yet and already looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
This was such a bad idea.
She shook her head again. Sucking in a breath, she shifted the gear into reverse, intent on putting the small, sleepy town in her rearview mirror and never looking back.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she paused, hissing out a frustrated breath as she dropped the gear once again into neutral and let the engine idle. There was still that nagging doubt at the back of her mind, nipping viciously at her like an annoying insect.
With a deep sigh, her head dropped down to rest against the back of her knuckles as she gripped the wheel tighter. Closing her tired eyes, she listened to the idling of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of the rain, allowing it to smooth out the rough edges of her frazzled nerves.
She was exhausted from arguing with herself. Maybe she was just making too much out of it. Maybe being back in Mercy wouldn’t be as bad as she expected. She found herself letting loose a sudden and unintentional snort of dry amusement as the thought occurred to her.
