Bound In Blood (The Adams' Witch Book 1) (25 page)

BOOK: Bound In Blood (The Adams' Witch Book 1)
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Mother Shipton’s laughter rang, a yell in a pack of whispers. “The ones they hold as fairest, for their loves anew. A curse to bind them.”

The magistrate bent over, found the still flaming torch in the sand and threw it at the witch.

“For me to find them.”

The torch hit the witch’s waist and fell to the dry hay. Fire immediately caught and spread. Her eyes stared at the rising flames and then moved to catch the cold, unyielding glare of her lover.

“And I will do as you have done to me.”

 

***

Thomas waited until after they removed the Lynne women’s belongings from their cottage. He searched and found nothing but Isabella’s journals in his sack. His father insisted on keeping the desk and the journals, which he thought odd. Was not it always imperative to burn the witch’s belongings as well as the witch?

They sat at the dinner table. Betrayal pulsed through him, but he doubted his father noticed. He set down his spoon and cleared his throat. “Father. I must know.”

Magistrate Ludington threw his spoon to the table. “Know what?”

“Was Isabella a witch?”

“You doubt me?”

“Mother Shipton said you were lovers. You and her. She said you made her do things to Isabella.”

“Witches, witches, they are all witches!”

He stood, mouth still open from his sudden surge, then his eyes widened and he began to claw at his throat. The veins in his neck protruded.

“Father?”

The man fell to the floor. Thomas pushed the chair away and stood over his father, shaking his limp form.

Footsteps strode into the room and Thomas looked up. His mother stood there, hands entwined around her bulging middle, a sly smile covering her face.

A flash of the old witch pierced Thomas’ mind and for a moment, he did not stare at his mother, but at Mrs. Shipton.

“You are next.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

 

Sarah

 

“A hardware store? Seriously?”

I flattened myself against the seat as Jennie ran over a curb at a shop just outside Adams.

“It’s a Country Store. We need some things if we’re going to save the whole damn town.”

“Don’t you have powers or something? Can’t you do something?”

“That’s why we’re here. I need some…tools."

“Like wrenches and screwdrivers?”

Jennie shot me a death look. “No princess, like rope…and a doll. I’m going to try and make a binding doll to hopefully undo the hold she has over everyone."

Ohhh.

Jennie jacked her thumb in the direction of the backseat. “And I need more salt.”

I twisted in the seat and found a canister clearly labeled salt surrounded by white granules. “I knew they made the doll for Marlene. I read it in your book.” I turned forward again. “I just don’t get the salt.”

“You must not have read everything then.” The SUV jerked and came to a stop in the fire line right in front of the shop. Jennie jumped out, leaving the key in the ignition, the car running.

I hesitated.

“It’ll be fine,” she shouted as she banged the hood, jarring me to attention.

Inside the store, Jennie continued in whispers, “Salt is a very basic negation spell—protective.” I stalked next to her, feeling pretty stupid. Jennie sighed. "You ever watch football?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Think of salt as the protective pads the player wears. As long as you got some on, it won’t hurt.”

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.

“We need to get my tools and head to Heritage Park.”

“Heritage Park? Where everybody and their mother is right now? That sounds like a horrible idea.”

Jennie’s jaw tightened, leaving her face angular. “If you were to see a layout of the park, you’d notice it’s in the shape of a pentagram. We usually hold our coven meetings there. Of course, with Settler’s Days, we had to move temporarily.” She peeked at me and noticing I was still following, she continued, “It’s the most magic filled place in Adams. My powers alone won’t be enough. I need to be there.”

“The park is in the shape of a pentagram? And nobody thinks this is weird?”

“It’s Adams.”

I peered up and down the aisles filled with wheelbarrows, bird feed, garden tools, and everything else country. “So? It’s Adams, not some city in hell.”

Jennie groaned. “I don’t know. It looks pretty? That’s really not the point though, is it?”

The park was pretty and I wouldn’t have realized it was shaped like that if Jennie hadn’t said anything. “Okay, so if it's the most powerful place in Adams, don’t you think Rose is going to want to use that to her advantage too?”

Jennie’s eyes flicked from one aisle to the next. “Yes.”

I put my hand on Jennie’s shoulder and stopped her. “She’s already been using it. Oh my god, I’m so stupid.” My mind flicked back to every time I thought the Crazies were acting, well, crazy. People spacing out, repeating their words. I scanned the aisle signs. “We’re going to need lots of salt.”

We grabbed a cart and started to load up. Jennie picked a rope off the shelf, a doll in the clearance aisle, and I leveled my hand across the shelf where they stored the water softener salt. They crashed into the cart one-by-one. The old geezer shoppers shook their heads at me and kept glancing back out of the corners of their eyes.

We stood in line. A short guy with a god complex rang up items. He flirted with the old ladies in front of us and once he started scanning our items, he pulled out his shockingly white teeth and dumbo grin. “How are you two beauties doing today?”

I snatched the plastic bags from his hands and Jennie tapped her foot against the concrete floor.

The movement didn’t faze him. Jennie shook her hair around so it fell in her face and then jutted out her lower lip.

His face lit. “That’ll be 25.32.”

My mouth dropped and I glanced at Jennie, her hands unconsciously felt for her purse. Of course, she didn’t have it on her and neither did I. I didn’t think I’d need my wallet. Didn’t think I’d be shopping at the hardware-slash-magical shop today. Actually, it was more like shoplifting at the hardware-slash-magical shop today.

Jennie didn’t lose a beat. She made a show of patting her back pockets and then dropped her mouth with her pouty lip and exclaimed, “Oh man. I forgot the money our mom gave us in the car. Can we run out and bring it back to you?"

The boy’s eyebrow twitched. “Sure,” he said cheerfully, leaning in toward Jennie. “As long as you bring me back a piece of paper with your number on it.”

“Will do,” she said, winking at him.

I steered the cart toward the exit. “What are—?”

“Shh.” Once we got outside, Jennie ran to the running car and started shoveling items into the backseat. “Get in the driver's seat and get ready.”

I ran to the driver’s side door and watched Jennie shovel handfuls of salt into the SUV, her eyes teetering back and forth between the task and the main door. “Oh sh—”

“What?”

“Get in the car. Now.”

“Hey, do you need help?” the checkout boy called to her, wringing his hands in his green Country Store smock.

Jennie dropped the canisters of salt she had in her hands, somehow managed to shove the cart away, close the door, and hop in the front seat all before the boy knew anything was wrong.

“Hey–hey—”

I peeled out, scaring a young couple so bad they fell back on their butts as I maneuvered around them. The rearview mirror revealed three very pissed off faces.

I cringed and sunk my fingernails into the leather of the steering wheel.

“It’s okay,” Jennie said, pulling her hair behind her ears. “It's emergency circumstances.”

I eased my grip and concentrated on the road. I’d never been down these before, only sticking to the main highways on my way up here and then the tiny side streets of Adams.

Jennie reached behind the seat and grabbed the doll. It was an old one with tan fabric skin and yellow yarn for hair. It had blue eyes and a cute little nose sewn onto it. Jennie stripped the doll of its jean skirt and doggie shirt.

“Is that going to work?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, so I’ll pull up to Heritage Park, we get out and what? We just walk up?”

Jennie nonchalantly petted the doll’s hair, her face expressionless as she stared ahead. “Yup. That’s what we do.” She switched her gaze to the doll. “Then we kneel in the middle, before the stage, and—”

“Wait.
We
kneel in the middle?”

Jennie nodded. “I can’t do it without you. I need your energy.”

“But I’m not a psychic, or a Wiccan either.”

“Doesn’t make a difference. I just need you to concentrate and repeat after me.”

Drake flashed into my mind, that solemn, hollow expression. It was him, but not really him. “I can do that.”

When we pulled into a parking spot near Heritage Park, the first person I recognized was Courtney, the high priestess. “Do you think she’s in on it?”

Jennie shook her head. “Nah, it’s all Mother.”

“Mother’s controlling everybody? Courtney? Drake?”

“Everybody.”

I turned to face Jennie in the seat. Her face tight, unbreakable stone. “Let’s do this.”

I left the Escalade running in a parking space near the statue of the first settler in case we needed to make another quick escape. The statue’s eyes called out to me again and my gaze traveled down the length of the statue to the C.

Of course. C for Connors. The Crazies were changing the settler’s last name from Ludington to Connors.

I marched through the park to catch up with Jennie, holding a couple of plastic bags brimming with salt canisters. Jennie held the rope and the doll.

No one bothered us as we walked toward the center of the park, nor did I see any more coven members. Yet.

People, almost imperceptibly, moved out of the way when we walked through. A few slid just out of reach as we stalked on and a couple even completely turned directions when they saw us coming. Pretty soon, a clear, straight shot to the stage bloomed before us.

I quickened my pace and heard the rubber squish of Jennie’s shoes right next to me. “Is right here okay?” I asked when I found what I thought to be the middle. I scanned the park, calculating distances and from every point, I felt we had the right place. “Jennie?”

I spun when she didn’t answer and my gaze landed on Jennie’s blanched, unfeeling face.

“Mother controls everybody, Sarah.” The doll and the rope fell from her grasp and landed on the green grass. My face folded and a string tugged in my stomach. Mother’s using the power of the park right now.

Jennie lifted a hand. Her wrist tugged taut, though her fingers limped from the rest of her arm like free strings. I slowly turned in the direction her arm pointed and gasped.

Right off the center of the stage, my mother descended from a makeshift cross, her body falling forward like the lifeless dummy days ago. Her eyes were shut and no other telling signs proved she lived. That she still breathed life inside her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY

 

 

Sarah

 

I staggered forward even before my legs felt any pressure and then I started to jog. I needed to get to Mom.

My nose crunched as I slammed into something, but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing in front of me. I brought a hand to my nose as droplets of blood dripped into my palms. I wiped my hands off on my jeans and stretched them out into the space ahead of me.

It was just like the library. I rotated in every direction, reaching out, and an invisible hard surface met my searching hands all the way around. I dipped my shoulder low and banged into the wall. The force didn’t give, didn’t even groan, or reveal any evidence that what I did helped. I spread my palms out, pressed my forehead against the clear, solid air, and peered at my mom.

A thump sounded around the whole park, as well as the echo of the reverberation off the downtown buildings. My mom blinked until her eyes popped open. Townspeople rustled by her, uncaring, as if she too, was invisible.

“Ex-excuse me?”

My head snapped up as I heard the familiar voice. I looked around at the people moving past her.
Oh. My. God.
Mom was mic’d. I could hear everything she was saying.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for my daughter.”

I lurched backward and bounced off the wall. “Jennie, it’s my mom.” I turned and found Jennie still standing, unchanged. "Jennie!” I banged my fist against the wall. “It’s my mom. Help her."

Pictures blinked in my mind of Mom leaving the house with guys as she waved to me in my bedroom window, of showing up late to school concerts, shyly excusing herself as she bumped every other parent’s leg on her way to the lone empty seat in the middle. It was always that one empty seat in the middle, never a side seat, an aisle seat. And here again, my mother transcended the norm, elevated in the air in front of the whole dang town.

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