Soul of a Witch: Chapter 9

The greenhouse was stunning, like stepping into another world. Brightly colored finches twittered as they flit through the air, fluttering from branch to branch. There were massive plants, flowers of every variety, and the stone path was covered with moss that was soft and spongy beneath my feet. Vines dangled from above, and the air was thick and humid.

“This is incredible.” I said.

“What is even more incredible is your lack of caution.”

Callum had stopped ahead of me, frowning as he looked at me. I’d been nothing if not cautious since I got here, so where the hell was this irritation coming from?

“Lack of caution? What do you —”

“The next time a strange being asks for your hand, perhaps hesitate before you give it,” he snapped. “Woodspries are fae creatures, they’re incredibly dangerous. Yet you let this one savor you without a second thought.”

I snapped, “Well, I’ve never heard of a Woodsprie before. And he wouldn’t have let us pass if I hadn’t. Besides, I think I can decide for myself who I should give my hand to. After all, I gave it to you first, didn’t I?”

In the blink of an eye, he closed the gap between us. I gasped in shock as he snatched my wrist, holding it tightly in his clawed hands.

“You think you know what you want?” he growled. “A little pain makes the pleasure sweeter, doesn’t it?” His grip tightened, claws pricking my skin. The sting was ignition for the fire in my veins, but then he brought my hand even closer, toward his mouth.

He opened his mouth and extended his tongue.

His long, red, forked tongue.

He twined it around my finger, licking up the blood. I was utterly frozen as he took the digit into his mouth and sucked. The sensation of his lips and tongue contracting around me made my brain short-circuit. All I could think about was heat-suction-pressure, and how desperately I wanted to feel that sensation everywhere.

He was so close, so unbearably close, pressing me against the glass wall. His presence was heavy, as if his body was crushed against me even though he was only holding my wrist.

He popped my finger from his mouth. My vision went a little fuzzy at the edges, my tongue incapable of forming words. Inwardly, I was screaming. Not in pain, not in horror, but in unbridled desire. The primal part of my brain was slobbering like a beast, hip-thrusting like a dog in heat.

Holy shit.

He needed to do that again. Immediately.

“Mm, my sweet lady witch.” His hand moved to cup my face. “Your needs have been so terribly neglected. You’d be far safer indulging your wicked desires with me rather than that wretched fae.”

“I…I, uh —” Could he tell I was turned on? Was it obvious? Perhaps he could see it on my face or…God forbid…could he smell it?

“Suddenly so shy,” he said. “But the dirty thoughts are there, aren’t they? Give them a voice, go on. You can make them real.”

There was a pulse between my legs, a need that merely squeezing my thighs together wasn’t helping. I dared to look at him, to really look. I dragged my eyes down his bare chest, longing to touch, perhaps to lick my tongue across his skin as he had to me.

Could I create the same feeling in him that he had in me? This same frantic heat?

He chuckled, and I snapped my eyes back up to his face.

“I don’t know,” I blurted. “I’m a virgin, I…I don’t know what to say —”

He loomed over me, the unknowable black abyss of his eyes deeper than ever.

“A virgin…” he said. “Who desperately wants to be fucked to oblivion.”

I wanted to melt into the ground. “I didn’t say that. I never said —”

“Don’t be afraid to tell him what you want, girl! You have every right to your pleasure!”

My eyes widened, and I whirled around, searching for the source of the shout. It was the same voice I’d heard when I first entered the house, but just as before, no one else could be seen.

“Who’s there?” I gasped, and Callum finally stepped back. But he didn’t take his eyes off me. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving as he motioned ahead, further down the path.

“Go see for yourself.”

I brushed past him, pretending to be unflustered. He didn’t know what I wanted. He didn’t have the slightest idea. He was assuming I wanted to be…Goddamn it…fucked to oblivion.

He was assuming correctly, but I wasn’t about to let him know.

The path curved through the greenery until I reached the base of a large tree. The trunk was massive, easily the width of two cars parked side by side. The limbs curved with the domed glass above, the depth of its branches filled with a chorus of birds. Water trickled down its trunk, the little streams splitting around a large stone tablet. There was writing carved into the stone, and I knelt so I could read it.

The first few sentences were written in a runic language I’d never seen before. But at the bottom was inscribed, May our knowledge overflow like wellsprings.

“Over here, my dear,” the voice sounded again, clearer and far closer. I turned, following another narrow path that curved around the trunk of the tree. There, I found an alcove surrounded by flowering vines, paved with pale stone tiles. Mice peered at me from the grass, their little black eyes blinking curiously as finches flew overhead to observe me, perching on the branches above.

There was a small table with two chairs, formed of intricately wrought iron. An old radio sat on top of the table, its wooden frame and two knobs making it appear like a relic from the 1950s.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Everly. My stars, it’s been so many years.”

The voice crackled with static as it sounded from the radio speakers. Staring in disbelief, I stepped closer and twisted one of the knobs to increase the volume.

“Oh, yes, that’s much better!” the voice boomed and cackled loud enough to send a flock of nearby finches into flight. “Ha! Now I can shout at you properly. It’s taken you ages to get in here! I should have warned you about old Darragh. He’s a horny wretch, isn’t he?”

The voice was contorted, but I knew it, even after so many years. As I glanced back at Callum, he nodded toward the radio and said, “She can hear you. She’s nearby; the radio is merely her conduit.”

I sat on one of the chairs, bracing my shaking hands on the edge of the table as I said, “Hi…uh…would you mind telling me your name?”

“Would I mind?” the voice cackled again. “Put some confidence in your voice, girl! If you want something, you’d better make damn well clear. That’s your first lesson. But of course, I would not mind. I am Winona Laverne. I’m sure I look very different from when you last saw me.”

“Oh…oh, you could say that again.” I felt like I couldn’t get enough air. “You’re…you’re my grandmother.”

“I am indeed.”

“And you’re…you’re dead…”

“Quite. But I’ve found death to be a very fitting end to life. It’s peaceful. I can keep to myself and do as I please, and none of the living are any wiser to it. It’s a fantastic opportunity to study.”

A dozen questions sprang to my mind, swiftly followed by a dozen more. “You’re a ghost?”

“I refer to myself as a hag who’s finally shed her mortal skin,” she said, and Callum scoffed behind me.

“She’s a ghost,” he said. “Her body lies in the crypt nearby, along with many generations of your family.”

“Consider yourself quite lucky you aren’t a diviner,” she said. “Or a demon, for that matter! Callum can hear me all the time, not just through the radio. He’s lucky I’m the only talkative one rotting down there.”

“I’ve been listening to her squawking for years,” he said with a heavy sigh.

It was in disbelief. I’d encountered ghosts before, of course. Mama had taught me to be aware of them so I wouldn’t be afraid if I saw or heard one. Most ghosts were simply lonely, or a little confused. A few kind words would usually send them on their way.

But this was the ghost of my grandmother. The grandmother I’d thought I would never be able to know. As a child, I’d dreamed of her coming to whisk me away, delivering me from a life surrounded by fear and secrecy. In my childish mind, she’d been the greatest witch in the whole world, a master of magic. Wise, kind, and full of knowledge.

“Callum, my dear monstrous demon, I must ask that you leave us for a while,” Winona said. “I have important matters to discuss with my granddaughter, and I’m afraid you’re simply too distracting for her.”

Although I refused to turn my head, I could see Callum smirk in my peripheral vision before he stepped back. “As you wish. I’ll be close by.”

He stalked away, disappearing amid the greenery. Once his footsteps were out of my earshot, I said softly, “It’s all true then? This house…” I hardly dared to say it. “This house belongs to our family?”

“The Laverne family,” she said firmly. “The family of your mother. This place has housed witches within its walls for over a hundred years. Witches from many religions, many cultures, many countries, once gathered here in unity. And now, at last, it shall house a witch again. As for the demon, you don’t need to fear him, my dear. I can tell you that with complete certainty.” Her voice was calmer now, but she still gave a gentle laugh. “That handsome creature wouldn’t harm you even if it cost him his own life. It’s all true. This house is your birthright, and all the wisdom and magic within is yours to inherit.”

My disbelief finally caved to stunned acceptance.

This place, and everything within its walls, was mine.

Everything.

Never in my life had anything truly been mine. Everything came with strings attached, and my father could pull those strings whenever he wished. The very thought that this beautiful, mysterious, magical place could truly belong to me made my chest swell with so much emotion that I couldn’t speak.

“I know it’s been a very long time, Everly,” my grandmother said, her voice infused with static for a moment. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more for you in life. I tried to reach you. I truly hoped I could save you from that wretched, pompous, self-absorbed prick of a father your mother saddled you with.” She sighed heavily. “Your mother was a lovesick fool for Kent. She truly believed there was goodness in him, and by the time she realized otherwise, it was too late. He manipulated her in every way he possibly could. But I know she loved you dearly.”

Despite my efforts to remain stoic, my eyes stung with tears. “Do you know that she…”

“I felt her life pass on from this world,” she said. “I had hoped her spirit might return to the house, but her soul was tired, so burdened with grief. She had no desire to stay. At least, now, her soul is at rest.”

We sat there in silence for several long moments. Mourning a mother, a daughter. A life ended with tragedy; a legacy stained with wickedness.

“She helped them sacrifice a fifteen-year-old girl,” I said. The words came out choked with pain and shaking with anger. I’d never spoken them aloud. I’d never heard anyone say it. The simple truth. My love for my mother was wrapped in thorns, crushed by the weight of what she’d done.

I’d watched my kind, gentle, patient mother hold down a teenage girl as she screamed in pain.

Grandma remained silent, but I got the sense she was listening. There was a coolness in the air, swirling gently around me like arms embracing me.

“The girl got away,” I said. “We threw her down into the mine, but Mama went back for her. She shielded the girl with magic and told her to run. She tried to tell me. She tried to warn me.”

My throat swelled. I could scarcely get the words out without sobbing. After Mama’s death, when I’d held her letter and read it for the first time, my entire world ground to a halt.

My mother couldn’t live with the pain she’d caused. She couldn’t forgive herself.

“The girl’s name was Juniper Kynes,” I said, sniffling, as I plucked at the loose threads on my blouse. “We convinced the entire town she was crazy. We destroyed her life. She lost everything.” Taking a deep breath, I forced my voice to steady. “Do you know how it works? Our —” I stopped myself before I misspoke. “My father’s faith. Do you know what he believes?”

“I do,” she said grimly. “The Laverne witches have been aware of the Libiri’s activities since the cult’s inception. When the God awakened, we knew. We were researching how to keep It contained. But as the Libiri’s influence grew, so did the God’s strength. One by one, the witches who once comprised this coven were killed. Others fled in fear. Others simply grew old and croaked.” She gave another bitter laugh. “I did all I could before death came for me, and it would seem it’s paid off. Because here you are at last. Back home, where you belong.”

She couldn’t have known the impact those words would have. “Home” was such a fraught concept for me. The home I’d known my whole life — the house I lived in with my father, step-mother, and siblings — had never been a comforting place, a safe place. It was an arena, or a stage: a place where I had to walk, talk, and act with care, constantly afraid of doing something wrong. I’d only been allowed to visit Mama’s apartment on weekends, but even there, I didn’t truly feel safe.

The God was always watching, always whispering. Only since I’d stepped foot in this house had the perpetual sense of being stalked finally vanished.

“You say your mother let that first sacrifice go,” she said, speaking slowly. “But yesterday, I felt a great ripple of energy in the air. Something changed. The God stirred.”

Nodding, I had to take a moment to compose myself before I said, “Juniper had a brother, Marcus. They killed him yesterday. The first sacrifice is done.”

Grief for Marcus, for my mother, my grandmother, even for myself, all hit me at once. My chest ached and all I could do was cover my face with my hands, hiding the hot tears pouring down my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, my dear.” Her voice was gentle and a soft breeze whispered over my back. It took me back suddenly, to being eight years old again, running along the lakeshore to Grandma’s waiting arms. One of the few times I was allowed to see her. “You’ve already seen too much of this wicked world, but it will get far more wicked than this.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said, using my sleeve to wipe the tears away. I was a mess, but what did it matter? “I want to stop them. I must stop my father but I don’t know how. If I just hide here, in this place…”

“This house cannot protect you forever,” she said. “There will be nowhere to hide if the Deep One is freed, particularly for you. Its eyes have been on you since the day you were born. It wants you, Everly. It wants your power, your physical form. I warned your mother of this, but she refused to see it until…well, until you had been born and she realized your father was only interested in having another tool, not another daughter. He used your mother to make himself appear more powerful, wielding her strength like it was his own. You cannot allow him to do the same to you.”

“What can I do?” I said desperately, sitting forward in my chair and gripping the radio. “I barely have any power in me. I don’t know how to fight this.”

A long silence passed.

“Barely any power?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “Barely any…My girl, you could not possibly be more wrong. The power in you is by far greater than any witch I’ve known.”

“That’s not possible. I can barely summon a spark.” I swallowed hard, sitting back in shame. Perhaps she had expected me to be strong, maybe she’d thought my mother had imparted more of her knowledge to me. “I’m weak.”

“Bullshit!”

I jumped in surprise at the volume of her curse.

“You are untrained, not weak! And you’ve been kept this way intentionally because Kent fears you. He fears what you can become. He lives in terror of the threat you pose to everything he has built, and he will stop at nothing to keep you silent and subservient.” Her voice was viciously proud as she said, “But no more. He does not hold the power here, you do. And you have the tools to prove it.”

“What tools?” I said. Any moment, surely, she would realize she was mistaken. I wasn’t strong, I wasn’t someone my father feared. I was a cowardly girl whose greatest power was to run away rather than help a man being murdered.

“This house,” she said. “And everything in it. Callum, first and foremost, will be your greatest ally.”

“A demon,” I said. “But demons are —”

“Selfish, conniving, cruel, wicked, self-indulgent creatures,” she said. “Exactly like we humans are. Yet you still find great goodness among humans, don’t you? I called Callum many years ago and he answered. He has waited for you ever since.”

“He’s never met me. He’s never known me, so why would he wait for me? Why would he help me?”

“Some questions, I fear, are not mine to answer,” she said. “But I will explain what I can, as much as I understand. Callum’s sigil was among a collection of demonic names gathered throughout the years by the founding witch of our coven, Sybil Laverne.”

With a gasp, I nearly shot straight out of my seat. My knee banged the table, the radio tipped backward, and I scrambled to right everything as I rushed out, “Sybil! Yes! Mama told me her name. She said Sybil knows the way.”

“Sybil held many secrets indeed,” Grandma said. “She passed away when I was still a young witch myself, so your mother never met her. But Sybil was a prolific demonologist, a talented diviner, and extremely skilled in the ways of spell craft.” She paused for a long moment, before saying, “When you were born, I had visions of the many paths of life you could choose to take. I witnessed horrors to end all horrors. I saw glimpses of our world remade, overtaken by a God whose evil we cannot even begin to fathom.” Her voice shook, and for the first time, I realized my grandmother was afraid. “I saw you, but your mind and soul were gone. Forced to dance like a puppet on a string, your magic warped and stolen. I knew I did not have many years left, but I had to do something. I had to take drastic measures to change the course of fate.”

She drew in a deep breath, and I leaned closer to the radio, eager to hear more.

“In Sybil’s writing, I found an archdemon’s sigil. She wrote that it belonged to the oldest demon she had ever encountered, and she had met him purely by chance, here on Earth. She claimed he had come to Earth in pursuit of fallen gods, slaughtering them wherever he found them. He made no attempt to hide his sigil from her, and instead, laughed at the threat of ever being forcibly summoned. She wrote that he was far too powerful to be commanded. Summoning him should never be attempted.”

“But you attempted it,” I said. “Why?”

“I didn’t summon him,” she said. “I called to him, he answered, and I was fortunately able to persuade him not to kill me. He admitted that I was not alone in attempting to change fate. In fact, he had been chasing a thread of fate he glimpsed many hundreds of years ago: a vision he once had.”

“A vision? Can demons be diviners, like witches can?”

She paused for a moment. “I have never heard of it. Nor had Callum. What he saw…even now, I struggle to believe it.”

“What was it?” I blurted. Excitement filled me as I hung on to her every word.

“He had a vision of a witch. A witch who knew his name and called herself Everly Laverne.”

Of all the things she could have said, that was not what I expected. “Callum had a vision…of me?”

“So it would seem. You had only just been born when he told me this, but he claimed he had been searching for you. He had spent centuries on Earth, waiting for his vision to manifest. So when I gave him my name, it was as if fate had finally begun to align. I told him of the power I knew you would have. I told him that someday, you would come to a crossroads and have to make a choice. To submit, to flee, or to fight. There is a path you can choose that will lead you to the end of all this. All the pain and misery caused by that unnatural deity’s presence in the world can be ended, Everly. And you are the one who can do it.”

“This must be a dream,” I whispered, leaning back in my chair. “It has to be.”

“A dream, a nightmare, or reality. Regardless, you must make a choice. You can try to hide here but you will not be safe. Callum will try to protect you, but in the end, will be overcome. You can go back to your father, pretend this all was indeed a dream. You can carry on your life as he dictates, enslaved to his will, and eventually, the will of his God. Or you can choose to fight back. You can embrace your power. You can kill a God.”

“Kill a God…it’s truly possible…”

“Oh yes. It will not be easy and we have very little time, but I know we can awaken your power. It’s practically bursting at the seams already. I would be careful of any more spontaneous teleportation, if I were you. They can sneak up on you when your magic has been left stagnant for so long.”

If this was a dream, then I was already in too deep. I couldn’t turn away from this.

I sat up straighter in my seat. “Tell me what I have to do.”