Chapter 19: The Locket
My jeans slid to the floor as I undressed, absently hopping on one foot to pull the tight cuff from around my foot. I left the light off, the faint glow from the bathroom across the hall casting
illumination under my closed door more than enough to see by. Mind on other things-like how best to make sure this string of good luck with Mom and GreatGram continued-the rattle of something falling to the hardwood floor just at the border of my fluffy area rug caught me by surprise.
The locket. I bent and picked it up, tossing my jeans aside, examining the piece of jewelry with my demon vision. Innocuous, plain with a bit of scrollwork carved into the cover, a tiny pin at the top the trigger to open its hinges. I pressed the lever, looked inside, a bit disappointed there was nothing to see. Just two empty cavities where photos could rest. One was darkened with age and some kind of smut, the other clean and empty. I snapped it shut and balanced it in my hand, the weight as surprising as its presence.
Where did it come from again? I couldn't recall. Maybe it was a gift from Nanna or Mom? Didn't seem like them. I just couldn't remember. And realized it didn't matter. Though when I moved to toss it to my dresser, I hesitated. It was kind of pretty, after all. And someone gave it to me. I wouldn't want to insult them or anything.
I was moving before I realized it, the clasp open in my fingers, the chain cold on my skin. I felt a faint bite at the base of my neck as if the clasp scratched me when I let it go, and I released a little meep of hurt, though it went away quickly. The locket seemed much nicer to me now than it had before, really lovely actually, and I had to remind myself to find whoever gave it to me and thank them in the morning.
I think it was my favorite piece of jewelry ever.
Two minutes later, pajamas on and sheets over my head, I collapsed into sleep as if I hadn't had a wink in days.
Who are you?
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***
I jerked awake, bedclothes tossed to one side as I sat up, blinking into the morning sunlight, heart pounding though I had no idea why. Weird dreams, probably. I rubbed at my upper arms, vague recollections of tossing all night making me feel a bit sick. Claustrophobia, wasn't it?
Darkness and tight spaces and trying to get out of somewhere I couldn't even find my way around.
I shook my head, rubbing my aching temples with both hands, finally falling back into my pillow again with a deep sigh. I didn't have nightmares often. Must have been triggered by the last two days. Claustrophobia? Yeah, totally the coven and being heir and accepting that role, right? Now my fate really was sealed, wasn't it? Darkness, well, I'd kind of come out of darkness. Wait, maybe the tight spaces was the person I used to be?
Deciphering dreams wasn't exactly my strong suit. The only really good thing about this morning was the fact it was Saturday. No school and, now that I had their attention and compassion, maybe a little fun with my family.
That roused me out of the depths of questions about my restless night's sleep and pushed me out of bed. The clock told me I'd slept in, that it was past 8AM. The smell of bacon and coffee wafted up the staircase as I trotted across the hall to the bathroom. Maybe I could finally convince Mom to take me with her to the Stronghold if she was going back today. Or we could kick that ball around? Or GreatGram might be willing to teach me about Necromancy. They'd already tested me and I had the talent. A Universe of possibilities stretched out before me as I finished brushing my teeth and hair before descending the stairs to the kitchen.
I was halfway down when Mom's mental voice reached me. Ethie. She sounded off, odd.
Restrained and a bit worried.
Mom? I paused my descent, shocked by her touch. What's wrong?
Just come downstairs, she sent, firm and loving this time, though she'd shut herself off from me, the three personas she carried grumbling their frustration and anger before she shielded me from them. We need to talk to you.
Great. What had I done now? Not fair, not even a little. I ground my teeth together, hand on the wood rail tightening as anger exploded in my head, my demon half over reacting as it always did before I drew a few deep breaths and pulled myself under control.
Stupid temper. Whatever happened, I'd handle it. I was the new and improved Ethie and they would see, no matter what, I was stepping up to be exactly the Hayle witch my coven-my family-needed.
I took the rest of the stairs at a steady pace, head up, shoulders back. Maybe they'd found out I'd been fighting for years? Or Coradine had come up with some lie or another to turn them against me. I'd show her for even trying. No way she'd influence my family, not while I had breath.
I was so wrapped up in my quest to be the perfect Hayle witch that when I stepped into the kitchen a moment later, it took me a second to realize this was possibly more serious than a feeble attempt at payback from Coradine.
They were waiting for me. Mom, GreatGram, Sassafras. And three North American Council Enforcers.
All of my composure vanished as I gaped at the two women and one man, their black robes lined in blue satin, who observed me with grim expressions. When I turned to Mom at last, she showed her nerves with a brief and brilliant spark of power that tried to wrap around me and protect me.
From what?
"Mom?" I stumbled over the word. "GreatGram?" Sassafras grumbled, his furry body perched on the table. I hadn't seen him in cat shape in ages and yet it seemed he'd reclaimed it just for me. "Sass?"
Funny in the face of stress how all I could manage was to say their names.
"Ethpeal Hayle," the oldest of the women Enforcers said in a voice both empathetic and commanding. "We're here to question you about the death of Jagger Santos."
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