Nightwish (An Echoes of Eternity Novel Book 1) (16 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After a good night of sleep, I left Kendall and Brandon’s apartment in the middle of the afternoon the next day, before either of them had woken up (they had separate bedrooms), and visited Verizon to get a new cell phone. All throughout the process of signing up for a new plan, I thought about the consequences of losing Grams, but pain hit my heart with such undiluted sorrow that I pushed those feelings to the back of my mind. If I intended to prevent Delphine and Alexis from bringing about the end of life, as we knew it, I’d need my heart and mind at full strength. Besides, I might be able to communicate with Grams at some point in the future. Therefore, I didn’t have the time or inclination to grieve for my loss.

Although Delphine and Alexis might attempt to stop by
The Antique Boutique
to hunt for
The Book of Souls
, I finally admitted to myself that they scared me. I didn’t trust their unpredictable nature, and I had no way to determine if Delphine wouldn’t attempt to kill me at first sight. For those reasons, I spent the afternoon and a good portion of the evening running errands: getting my car a tune up, shopping for clothes, picking up numerous cleaning products to disinfect every spot in
The Antique Boutique
.

As night fell, I stopped into
Subway
and ordered a turkey sandwich for dinner. It was only when I saw my image in the circular security mirror above the service desk that I realized how fragile, indecisive, and lonely I looked. Either I was really missing Grams, or I was ashamed of myself for avoiding my new life. In all honesty, they both played a part. So while I ate my turkey sandwich, which tasted as bland as the water I washed it down with, I reflected on the helpless thoughts that buzzed through my mind: how could I defeat Delphine and Alexis? How could I prevent Celestina from fulfilling their warped intentions? How could I avoid drawing Kendall and Brandon into my family drama?

When I finished my sandwich, I didn’t have any answers to these questions. But if Grams saw me at this moment, she would utter the following remark, as she had done countless times before:
Change your mind, change your life!
 

That phrase, along with numerous other words of wisdom Grams had imparted throughout the years, calmed and comforted me. They also made me feel closer to her. She may have passed away, but her guidance and insight would always stay at the forefront of my mind.

Moisture filled my eyes, and try though I might, this time I couldn’t blink away the tears. I stared at my blurry appearance in the mirror as tears slipped down my cheeks. It became difficult to breathe, difficult to think of anything but losing Grams.

But it also became easier to see myself: finally freeing those tears, rather than locking them deep inside, released some of the anger I’d felt toward Grams. I couldn’t blame her for keeping secrets from me: she wanted to protect me from the power struggles and paranoia that seemed to grip the rest of my family. And did any of them have a normal childhood? I’d wager otherwise.

At that moment, I realized the main reason why Grams hadn’t told me about my heritage: I might never have as much magical power as my family, but I would always be stronger mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. That had to count for something!

Given that knowledge, I was frustrated that I’d let insecurity claw its way into my psyche. I’d never lived life worried and afraid. I’d always navigated life with a clear mind just as my martial arts training had taught me. And even if I didn’t yet have a strategy to deal with the obstacles facing me, I wouldn’t cower in the corner and allow fear to mow me down. So when I finished my sandwich, I jumped up from the table, strode out of the shop, and headed over to
The Antique Boutique
, determined to face whatever life threw at me.

A short time later, I stepped inside
my
new shop and was relieved to find it empty. I considered entering the secret chamber, but I knew that whatever I found would play havoc on my emotions, and I needed a rational demeanor to deal with non-magical responsibilities. I turned around and set my gaze on the cash register and the computer next to it. If Grams had indeed granted me her home and business, I’d need to handle all the bills associated with those properties.

After further investigation throughout the afternoon, I discovered that Grams had paid off her home mortgage and owned the land upon which the shop stood. With regard to home utilities, she had set up automatic payments, but I couldn’t find any utility bills for the shop. The same went for a lease, renter’s insurance, or any other documentation that indicated Grams operated the shop. When I found a document on her computer that listed her usernames and passwords, I found her banking account information. I logged in and, when I caught sight of her account balance, I did a double take to ensure that I hadn’t exaggerated the staggering amount listed: $1.2 million dollars.

As I sat behind the counter, staring at that figure, the landline rang, startling me. I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“I’d like to speak with Serena Sykes, please.”

“Speaking.”

“Hi, Serena, my name is Michael St. Claire. I’m calling from First American Bank. I’m in charge of your grandmother’s estate. She specified that I contact you upon her passing.”

I didn’t say a word. How had this man discovered that Grams had passed? Only a handful of people knew about her death. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. St. Claire.”

“Oh, right. Your grandmother told me that you’d be a little…distrustful of my rather immediate contact, given her circumstances. But let me assure you, she had prepared for this moment…over three years ago.”

“But how did you know she…passed away?”

The other side of the phone remained silent for over five seconds.

“Hello?” I asked, eager to hear St. Claire explain himself. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, Ms. Sykes. It may sound strange, but a month ago, your grandmother visited our branch and told me that she’d soon be passing away. She followed that up by giving me all of the credentials needed to pass the assets of her estate along to you. She was very prepared, to say the least.”

“But how did you know she passed?”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds. “She told me that she’d contact me in…an unexpected way, a method that I’d originally find circumspect, but which I couldn’t otherwise explain.”

“Her spirit appeared to you,” I said.

“Well, yes,” he said in a lighter tone, giving the impression that he spoke confidentially. “You see, this type of arrangement is far from ordinary. In fact, I…sort of…well, your grandmother…how can I say this? I don’t feel comfortable going any further without some verification as to your identity. This was far from an ordinary business transaction, but she convinced me to follow through with her wishes by promising me special accommodations.”

Which meant Granny had paid off St. Claire to overlook regular probate practices in order to convince him to follow her instructions. 

“Your grandmother gave me some pertinent details about your life and recommended that I question you about the circumstances surrounding her death.”

Over the next few minutes, I answered a handful of questions about my life as well as the time I’d spent with Grams. All of those memories were difficult to face, but I realized that you couldn’t gain strength from pushing those feelings aside. You only grew stronger by acknowledging them, confronting them, and moving on. So that’s what I intended to do.

After answering all of those questions, I said, “If you’d prefer, I can always visit you, Mr. St. Claire, to verify my identity.”

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, you’ve answered as your grandmother said you would. I don’t want to spend any longer on this account than necessary.”

Translation: he was probably spooked that Grams had visited him, followed by the fact that he’d certainly taken a bribe to speed up the proceedings in order to close out Grams’s account.

St. Claire cleared his throat, probably to maintain some measure of self-respect. “I’m calling now…to confirm that the investment vehicles your grandmother had set in place have been liquidated. These funds have passed into a Wells Fargo account under your name.” I clicked refresh on the bank’s webpage, and the account now showed a zero balance. He then provided me with an account number as well as a username and password so I could access that account.

“What about
The Antique Boutique
? What can you tell me about it?”

“The…antique boutique? Is that a business your grandmother owned and operated? If so, I’m unfamiliar with it.”

“I’m standing in it right now,” I said, confused by his unfamiliarity with Grams’s business. After all, if she had used First American Bank to finance her mortgage and trusted them with her investment accounts, why hadn’t she done the same with her small business?

Regardless, I presumed that Grams didn’t want to torment St. Claire by continuing a business relationship with his bank after she had passed, so she’d chosen to transfer those funds to a different financial institution. After hanging up, I logged into the Wells Fargo account online and found that Grams had indeed left me $1.2 million dollars.

A wave of euphoric dizziness overwhelmed me, making it difficult for me to catch my breath. I grasped onto the counter to remain stable and concentrated on my breathing, telling myself that although I wouldn’t need to find a job anytime soon, I’d still have to deal with Delphine and Alexis before attending to financial matters. That sobering thought relieved some of my vertigo. Nevertheless, one question remained: how had Grams acquired so much money? That amount would certainly allow me to live comfortably for quite some time. What had she invested in to earn so much money…when I’d
never
seen a single customer step into
The Antique Boutique
?

Unable to answer that question, I set my attention on an enigma I hoped to unravel:
The Book of Souls
. I made my way across the shop and stepped into the room, but this time, euphoric sensations didn’t sweep across my skin. It simply felt like I’d walked through a partition with just a hint of resistance. Earlier, I hadn’t seen the room because Grams had been in somewhat decent health. Only after Zephora had taken control of Grams’s body had I noticed that the room existed. But now, after Grams had passed on, I presumed that the spell that Grams had placed on this room to remain hidden to all but her, had faded. Either that, or now that I’d inherited the shop I was privy to everything inside it. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel a tingling sensation upon entering the chamber; I was no longer a visitor but the proprietor.

Everything looked as it had upon my first visit, although this time, a tall, wooden stand with a wide, flat surface appeared at the top, upon which lay a weathered brown box six inches wide and four inches deep. I stood in place, breathing heavily, unable to believe what stood before me: the holy grail of witchcraft. And Grams had given it to me: a person who knew nothing about her heritage, a “witch” who’d been too shocked to accept to embrace her ancestry and all that came with it. Although I didn’t want my mother or sister to look through its contents, I had to admit that they were more qualified to understand and put into practice the lessons inside that book.

On the other hand, perhaps that was the very reason Grams had entrusted me with its knowledge. She’d raised me with a similar sense of morality with which she lived. I felt ill-equipped to open the box to…wait a minute! A book couldn’t fit inside that little box.

Puzzled, I reached out, opened the box cover, and looked inside.

It was empty.

I expected a sound or a scent to filter out of the box, but...nothing happened.

She had promised that owner could ask “it” three questions and get three answers. Well, I already had three: Who had taken the grimoire? Where was it? And how do I get it back? Not that I’d get any answers, since I could only distribute the grimoire, not consult it.

I glanced around the room, hoping to find a similar box. After all, while I’d visited my family in my astral state, Delphine had stated that she knew the book existed, although she hadn’t provided any evidence to back up her claim. I didn’t see a second box anywhere. Perhaps the grimoire would only reveal itself to the person who was destined to own it, not the one who protected it. Given those constraints, it made sense that I couldn’t see
The Book of Souls
. 

A bell rang above the doorway, indicating that someone had entered the shop. Kendall stepped inside and looked around. “The light’s on but no one’s home?” She turned her back to me in order to walk behind the front counter. “I’m sure Brandon could relate,” she mumbled.

I closed the box and chose that moment to exit the chamber, doing my best not to reveal my disappointment in not finding the grimoire. “Hey!”

Kendall spun around and put a hand to her chest with fright. “Phew, you scared me.”

“Yeah, sorry, I forgot to put on make-up today.”

“I know you wanted some time alone, but I needed to tell you something.”

“What?” I hoped it had nothing to do with Brandon hooking up with Alexis. “You look—”