Spiritbound (13 page)

‘Am I?’ She glared at them all. ‘Am I?’

Turning on her heel, she shoved a kitchen chair out of her way and then ran down the hall to her room.

Heavy footsteps followed her.

‘Wait, Declan,’ Elvira said. ‘You best give her time to work it out. It’s been a shock. Don’t take what she said to heart. I’ve never seen her so upset.’

‘I will wait,’ came Declan’s reply, his deep voice cutting through Grace’s rage.

‘It may take a while.’ There was movement. ‘There, there, Elena. It will be all right. Don’t you worry. She’ll be fine tomorrow.’ Elena’s weeping tormented Grace. She needed to shut them out.

Declan still hovered there. She could feel his presence. She was afraid he would try to talk to her, so she put up wards so he couldn’t come in. Then she threw up additional ones so that she couldn’t hear them any longer. She didn’t want to hear them pity her or make excuses for her behaviour. The wards would keep them out too, and would keep them from mentally communicating with her.

As she put the final touches on her wards, she locked the window and tugged the curtains so that there was no light. She stood in the darkness, misery enveloping her. Why had Declan told her about Elroy? Or why hadn’t he explained it was that bad, given her some inkling? She’d had no comeback, no time to prepare. She blamed her mother, too, for not saying anything. She blamed Declan’s parents. They’d done it to hurt her, to crush Declan’s feelings for her.

Facing the door, she let the thoughts flow. It had been such a perfect morning. Now it was all over. Her life was over. Declan was over. No one in their right mind wanted to be with tainted goods. When she thought about it, Declan would give up on her. How could he not? He never had a commitment. She was just for a good time. His parents had a valid reason for despising her. Given time, Declan would get over his rebellion against them; he’d give in to their wishes and settle down with some nice witch and have a family.

Grace was crazy to think she would get a life like that. She was from bad blood. Mating with her would just risk bringing more evil into the world. Then, giving over to her feelings, she sank to the floor and wept.

After an hour or so she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. She needed more fuel, so she flicked on her music and filled the room with lyrics full of heartbreak, betrayal and mental anguish. There she screamed, letting her rage out. It was so unfair. Never had she voiced that thought before. She thought her punishment was deserved. Now she didn’t agree. It was Elroy they were punishing. But she wasn’t Elroy. They hadn’t even lived in the same time period. Declan had hinted that there was something more. Grace furrowed her brow. What other ramifications were there?

Then it hit her. Her mother had said it, plain as day. There are so few warlocks because of Elroy. It was deliberate. The coven had been afraid that another Elroy would be born. They would have exiled his soul as a matter of course. But still the fear lived on. Wiping her nose with a towel she found on the floor, she realised then how frightened the coven had been when she’d brought back Fel, so casually, with so little effort.

She cried some more. Her tears would never end. Sometime later she woke to the sound of someone pounding on her door. She ignored them and crawled into bed. She’d set wards but they didn’t prevent someone outside her room knocking. By then she was too exhausted to care and she didn’t even remember hearing the knocking stop.

***

Declan’s anger filled him up. How dare that stuck-up Elvira blast him for mentioning Elroy to Grace? Her words were still ringing in his ears. ‘How could you do that to her? She loves you, always has.’

‘I never asked her to love me and I certainly didn’t promise her anything.’

Elvira had thrown up her hands. ‘I don’t think she knows she loves you, but you’ve hurt her bad, Declan Mallory. You and your family have a lot to answer for.’

‘What do you mean? Seems to me that they’re the victims.’

Elvira had scoffed. ‘Victims. Always first to cast the first stone, and you’re just like them. Your mother always did have a slim grip on reality. She—’

‘Don’t bring my mother into this. What has she ever done to you?’

Elvira had thrown up her hands. ‘No family is perfect. Show me the perfect family. We all have defects and skeletons in the cupboard. Why don’t you explore yours before you come over here and destroy the happiness of such a beautiful person like Grace? Knowing her, knowing her spirit, how could you crush her so?’

‘Me? I didn’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just asked a question.’

‘If you don’t see it then just get out. You are too stupid even to talk to.’

Fist balled, Declan had spun on the spot. ‘I will.’ He’d ground his teeth and clenched his jaw against the words he’d wanted to yell at that old witch.

How dare she heap all the blame on him? He had only wanted to unwind with Grace, enjoy her body, and enjoy her smile and her wit. He hadn’t asked for all this shit to be dumped on him.

Declan had stormed out the front door. He’d tried contacting Grace as he left, but her wards kept him out. He shook his head. The whole family were nutters, except maybe Elena, who had sat there crying and gaping at them all.

Declan had jogged to his bike, revved it up and sped off. He drove for hours and hours, only turning back when he hit Newcastle. Now, many hours later he stood outside his front door. With his hands in his pockets, he kicked at a stone on the path, not quite ready to face his parents. His stomach rumbled and he realised he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. No point in stalling any longer. He could smell roast meat.

His parents looked up from the kitchen table as he walked in. ‘Hello, Son. Glad you’re home.’

‘You’ve seen her again, haven’t you?’ his mother said, screwing up the tea towel she held in her hands. ‘I can smell her on you.’

‘Del.’ His father’s warning was soft, gentle.

Her head jerked in his direction. ‘I can taste her taint from here. Go wash her off. You won’t be eating at my table until you do.’

‘Mum. Don’t. It’s been a bad day.’

‘What happened?’ his father asked.

‘I asked about Elroy Denholm. Let’s just say I’m not welcome there anymore.’

‘You see? He was there. He went to her.’

His father stood and went to cuddle his mother. ‘Let it go now. He’s back. It’s over. She won’t get him. It’s ended,’ he cooed to Declan’s mother. Declan’s stomach roiled and he slammed the door as he left the room. He needed to shower and he needed time alone. Elvira’s words were still in his ears. He didn’t like looking at his mother and seeing what was obvious. He’d ignored the signs his whole life. He’d been brought up not to upset her. To bring his troubles to his father and not bother his mother.

Damn Elvira Denholm. Damn her for being right. His bloodline wasn’t perfect either.

***

Grace awoke before dawn, her mouth dry, and she was busting to pee. Was the coast clear? Could she get to the bathroom before she was intercepted?

Lowering her wards, she hesitated, waiting for a shrill mind scream from her mother, but there was nothing. As she opened the door a crack she saw no one in the hallway and darted out, tripping over Elena who was asleep on the floor.

‘Grace,’ she said in hushed tones. ‘Please talk to me.’

Grace disentangled herself from Elena’s long legs, shaking her head. She turned and scrambled into the bathroom, groaning with relief when she made it inside. After relieving herself, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a scramble and her eyes so puffy she looked as if she’d been punched. Leaning over the sink, she splashed her face and then drank deeply, direct from the tap. Her gaze shot to the window. Should she climb out so she didn’t have to face Elena or her mother? That was a bit of overkill as she’d have to climb back inside, and as she had lowered her wards, they could very well be sitting on her bed waiting for her.

Closing her eyes, she sighed and then hiccupped. Elena had been quiet; maybe she would be again. Using a hand towel, she scrubbed her face dry. It was time she faced what her family were going to throw at her.

Elena haunted the hallway but backed away from Grace’s determined step.

‘Please, talk to me,’ she whispered.

Grace kept walking, shut the door in Elena’s face and locked it. The sound of her cousin putting her head against the door brought on another fit of weeping. Grace lay on the bed, three pillows over her head to muffle the sound. She hurt so much; it was as if her life were aching. It was as if all the wrongs that had been done to her were experienced again and mourned over.

The day came and went. Grace stared at the ceiling. Although she hadn’t eaten, she wasn’t hungry. Someone suddenly pounded on the door. ‘Grace Riordon, you open this door and drop your wards right now.’ It was her mother and she wasn’t pleased. Her mother was a powerful witch, but Grace wasn’t that bad either. She was pretty certain her ward would withstand an assault. ‘Grace, I’m warning you. Do not put your health at risk. You have to come out and eat something.’

Grace continued to stare at the ceiling. A thrust of magic against her ward had her gasping for breath. Her ward held but she could tell her mother was very upset. On one level Grace was sorry to cause her so much worry, but she was hurting so bad she couldn’t acknowledge it.

She drifted off to sleep as night fell. Around midnight there was an urgent knocking on the door. ‘Please, Grace. Don’t do this to me.’ It was Elena, her voice clogged with tears. ‘I need you like I need light.’ Her nails clawed the door. ‘You are my light. Your suffering makes us all suffer. Don’t shut me out. Please, Grace, don’t shut me out. You’re everything to me. We are sisters of the soul.’

Tears leaked out of Grace’s eyes and she nodded silently, biting on her bottom lip. With the back of her hand, she wiped her eyes. It was true she and Elena had a special bond. Elena’s words cut through the self-loathing and self-pity she was wallowing in. Dropping her ward, she reached out and knew that Elena was suffering as much as she was.

She rolled off the bed and stared at the door, hesitating before confronting her cousin. It was a moment of no return. Before she could move, Elena flung open the door and stood on the threshold, her face stained with tears and her hair unbrushed. Her green irises were very bright, given the redness of her eyes.

Grace held out her arms and Elena raced forward. With a flick of magic, she shut the door tight. It wasn’t that she was punishing her mother; she was just punishing her mother.

Elena clung to her and wept. Grace stroked her hair and rocked her back and forward. After a few minutes, Elena calmed down. ‘I’m sorry. I should be comforting you. Everything was going so well and then that bombshell hit.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘Your mother is very distressed. Her and Declan had a big fight and he stormed off, saying he’d never come back again. Elvira was very down on his mother, hinting that she was loopy. After Declan left, she told me Delores had never been the same after the murder. She never got over her grief. None really understood the why of it.

‘I’m afraid Declan didn’t take it too well—the implication that his mother wasn’t quite right in the head.’

Grace sighed, heavy with grief. She wanted it all to go away.

‘You know the reason we have so few warlocks is due to Elroy too.’

Elena nodded. ‘I feel so sorry for you all though,’ Elena said, with a sniff. ‘Such a tragic business.’

Grace lay down on the bed. ‘What makes me angry is that they’ve not forgotten any of it, but didn’t tell us, the younger generation, you know? They’re putting pressure on us to reproduce, to swell the coven’s ranks when it was their own behaviour that caused the gender imbalance. There must be two witches for every warlock.’

Elena put her head down on the pillow and sniffed loudly. ‘Not quite two. But a nice warlock, who is okay-looking and not an arse, is virtually impossible to find. You mother said it wasn’t only the Elroy incident that affected the birth-rate. Some members of the coven have drifted away to mingle with humans. Like my mother, I suppose. It’s only luck she found me.’

‘Not luck. She looked for you. Sniffed you out with her witch sense. Oh, Elena. I can’t face it. I really can’t. How can I go out there knowing everyone is waiting for me to turn into a monster?’

Elena grinned. ‘A monster? Is that what you think?’

‘Well, yes.’

Elena rolled over and played with Grace’s hair. ‘The Mallorys have always been strange—the parents, I mean, not Declan. Some of the other old sticks are a bit odd, and maybe they are a bit wary. But the rest of us, you know the people our age don’t know about this Elroy and wouldn’t care. The reason you get flack from other young witches is because you’re competition.’

‘Competition?’

‘Yes, exactly. I get a little bit of snub from them now and again, but I’m a half-witch so I’m not a threat.’ She poked Grace on the sternum. ‘You, though, are beautiful, have an amazing spirit full of joy and love, which you can’t repress, and you’re a powerful witch as well. In other words, hot property. They can’t compete.’

Grace lay back and closed her eyes, letting her breath out slowly. She was numb on the inside. She wasn’t about to argue with Elena. ‘Thank you for the kind words.’

‘Grace, stop that. They aren’t “kind” words. Sense me, please. Know what I feel about you.’

Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t want to.’

Elena grabbed her hand. ‘I never took you for a coward. I’m offering to share my heart with you; don’t push me away. I couldn’t bear it. You’ve been my light, my beacon. You accepted me when I came here. For the first time in my life I truly belonged—you gave me that.’

‘I’m in a dark place…I can’t get out.’

‘Nonsense. You refuse to even try.’

Grace rolled onto her side, turning her back on Elena, who sat there breathing and saying nothing.

A light touch caressed her mind. Grace blinked. That wasn’t Elena reaching out to her? Not possible. She flipped over. Elena sat very still, eyes closed, breathing regulated. The feather touch reached out again, stronger. Grace couldn’t stop herself from reciprocating. Then next second she was inside Elena, surrounded by her love, her images of Grace from when they were teenagers, the special moments Elena had cherished and stored away.