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“Let’s go up,” Lucy suggests. “And then we’ll talk about it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daphne
I can hear her in the shower. She’s been in there for more than thirty minutes. Frankly, I don’t blame her.
She may scrub off the blood, but she’ll never forget what it felt like on her skin.
I’d want to wash until I was raw.
I’ve never been so scared as I was when Lucy’s eyes opened, and she sat up. What kind of crazy zombie movie am I living in anyway?
The water shuts off, and another fifteen minutes tick by before Lucy pokes her head out of the steamy bathroom.
She’s dressed in a pair of my leggings and a T-shirt. Her clean hair is wet and twisted up and out of her face.
“You look like a college co-ed,” I say with a smile. “And you’d never know a serial killer spirit held you captive for a couple of days.”
Her smile is thin and she looks exhausted. “I know he did. It all started to catch up to me in the shower, and I had a good crying jag.”
“Honey, you can cry all you want,” I inform her. “Cry it all out.”
“It won’t help anything.” She shrugs. “Thanks for loaning me the clothes.”
“It’s honestly the very least I can do. I have so many questions, Lucy.” I want to reach out and hug her. The touch a little while ago had shown me so much—more than I usually see when I touch people.
Again, it’s not people who tell me stories. It’s things.
“I know you do,” she says. “Everyone does. Let’s go downstairs, and I’ll answer all of the questions.”
“I’m pretty sure Millie probably made you all kinds of soup and tea with special cleansing and protection spells in them.”
“That will be lovely.” We set out down the hall to the stairs. “You’re a powerful sensitive, Daphne. Psychometric?”
I raise a brow. “Yes. But lately, I’ve been picking up on people’s emotions, as well. Seeing more. It’s unusual for me.”
“I suspect it’s because so much is happening right now and it’s igniting your gifts. Amplifying them. You may have always been a little psychic in that way and didn’t really notice until now.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
We get to the bottom of the steps, and I hear everyone in the library.
“We’ve been gathering in here for meetings,” I tell Lucy as I lead her to the others. “It’s my favorite room in the house.”
She smiles when we reach the threshold. “What’s not to love about a room so full of books? Is Millie Belle from Beauty and the Beast?”
“You’re my kind of people,” Millie says with a wink. “And, yes, I often go on rides on the sliding ladder. Come on in. I have hot soup and tea for you. And anything else you might need.”
“A cozy spot to sit would be blissful,” Lucy says and sighs in relief when she plops down in a plush chair and then pulls a throw blanket over her lap.
Sanguine jumps into Lucy’s lap, turns three circles, and curls up to sleep.
“Wow,” Millie says in surprise. “Sanguine is my familiar and doesn’t usually take to strangers so quickly.”
“What a beautiful name for such a pretty girl,” Lucy coos and scratches the cat’s ears. “She knows that I miss my familiar back home. Nera got me through the last few days without losing my mind.”
“Your familiar was with you?” I ask.
“Oh, yes. Spiritually, anyway. He’s been sick with worry, but he’s calm now. He’s an Irish Wolfhound. My big, gentle giant. And a fierce knight, just like his namesake.”
Lucy smiles at Millie, who sets a tray of soup and tea before her.
“All of this has protection and cleansing potions added. It shouldn’t make it taste bad. I think you need it.”
“I do. Thank you.”
Lucy reaches for the tea, sits back, and meets Miss Sophia’s gaze.
The library is dark, with candles lit around the spacious room. Everyone is here, including Lucien’s parents and Cash, who must have arrived while I was upstairs with Lucy.
It’s a packed house.
And we’re all trying to give Lucy space to settle in before we pounce on her and pepper her with questions.
“You and I have met before,” Lucy says to Miss Sophia. “I was a young girl, and you and your sister came to Boston to help with a missing persons case. You came to Salem for a day.”
“Yes, I remember,” Miss Sophia replies. “I told your mother when I saw you that you were an old soul. That you see and know more than anyone realizes.”
“I’d say that’s still true,” Lucy says. “We lost Mama last year. But she always had kind things to say about you. Now, I’m sure you all have questions, and there are some things that I have to tell you.”
“Not too much,” Miss Sophia advises, and we all frown at her. “Some of it they have to figure out for themselves.”
