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If I let myself, I could still feel the sting of the cat o’ nine tails as it lashed my tender teenaged skin. “Sloane stood there with her arms folded and her head held high. She looked so smug. To this day, I’m not sure what made them think I was a witch. I showed no outward signs of supernatural abilities.” Pops and his words of wisdom were still too fresh in my mind to be questioned in those days. It was a relief that the coven’s interrogation was hyper-focused on witchcraft. Their narrow lens had enabled me to keep my secrets.
Phaedra waited to speak until she was sure I’d finished. “I am so sorry that happened to you. You did nothing to deserve that.”
“It was a formative time for me. Maybe if it had happened later in my life, I could’ve absorbed the shock better.” But I’d been so alone and eager to find a safe space after years of solitude and uncertainty, and the witches had weaponized that desire against me. “There were other instances later, with different witches. None had a happy ending.”
“And then you met my murderous family.” Phaedra shook her head. “Sweet Hecate, I can see why you’re reluctant to trust my kind.”
“I already had trust issues, but Sloane killed witches for me.”
“I’m sure she sensed your power and assumed it was witch-based magic.”
I met her gaze. “Did you think I was a witch when we first met?”
“No, but I could tell there was more to you than meets the eye. Dare I ask how you escaped?”
My jaw clenched at the memory. The mother’s ice-cold hand gripping my neck to throttle me for a third time. My survival instincts overriding my self-imposed prison. I saw her eyes roll to the back of her head as I inflicted my own brand of torture, raising her worst nightmare until she fell off a cliff into an ocean of insanity. Her screams dragged across my psyche like sharp tears in the fabric of reality. It was the first time I’d thrown open the floodgates of my power and let myself go.
Needless to say, Sloane’s mother would never again torture another living creature, not even a plant. I fled their house, packed my bags, and left town that very night before the coven could regroup and plot their revenge. Self-defense or not, I’d felt immense shame for what I’d done. The coven had refused to believe my answers because they didn’t want to. There’d been a sadistic quality to their interrogation that had rocked me to my core. I’d endured my share of unpleasant life experiences up to that point, but nothing quite like Sloane’s family dinner.
Phaedra must’ve sensed my hesitation because she said, “You don’t have to answer, Lorelei. I appreciate how much you’ve already shared. I know it couldn’t have been easy to relive it.”
I drew a deep breath. “On that note, there’s something else you deserve to know.” I told her the truth about my identity.
By the time I finished, Phaedra’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
“Why do you look so pleased?”
“You shared your deepest, darkest secret with me. That means we’re officially friends.”
I processed her logic. “I guess it does.”
Phaedra plucked a knife off the table. “Then let’s make it official.”
Instinctively, I jerked back. “Excuse me?”
“We slice our palms and mix the blood together. Witch ritual. A witch-ual, if you will.” She watched my face closely before breaking into a cackle. “I’m kidding. There’s no ritual. Only if I secretly wanted to control you like a puppet, but I’d need a few more ingredients. Blood isn’t enough.” She stopped talking and looked at me. “This is the kind of thing that worries you about witches, isn’t it?”
I compressed my lips. “It is, not that I’m one to talk. I can puppeteer ghosts even without a spell.”
Phaedra set the knife on the counter and pushed it away. “Is that why the ghosts stay at the Castle with you? They don’t have a choice?”
“Gods, no. Ray and Nana Pratt were given the chance to cross over. They opted to stay for their own reasons. If I had my way, they’d be somewhere over the rainbow by now.”
“Why didn’t you?” Phaedra asked. “Have your way, I mean. You’re their goddess, right? They’d have no choice but to follow your orders.”
“A moment of weakness,” I admitted.
“But you could make them go now. It’s been what, like a year?” Phaedra snorted. “That’s a lengthy moment of weakness.”
I shrugged. “Ray is handy and smart, and loves research, and Nana Pratt is an excellent baker who loves gardening. I honestly don’t know what I would do without them at this point.”
Phaedra’s face softened. “You’re a good goddess, Lorelei Clay. No matter what you may tell yourself, Fairhaven is lucky to have you.”
CHAPTER 8
The sun was beginning to set as I eased my truck out of the woods. I kept the radio turned off to minimize distractions. If there was a white stag or a wild boar in the vicinity, I didn’t want to miss it.
My gaze snagged on a flash of movement, and I immediately hit the brakes as Officer Leo Kilkenny jogged into view.
