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“There are two wings,” she tells me. “My family maintains the west wing, but the east is closed off. You can’t go in the dark wing for your safety since it’s in disrepair.”
I nod, though I have no such intentions of making any promises. There must be a reason it’s closed off, and I want to know what it is.
A woman calls out Rébecca’s name from inside the house, and the tension returns to her face as she glances at me. “Come on, I’ll show you the grounds.”
“Don’t you need to see what—”
Bec tosses me a pleading glance, and I halt mid-sentence. I suspect that must be her grandmother calling out for her, and it’s clear Bec doesn’t want to be found right now. So I follow her out onto the grounds of the property, taking in the views with an appreciation I didn’t expect.
The property is vast, shaded with ancient trees and beautiful foliage that lend a sense of privacy no matter where we stand. Well-maintained gardens dot the land and the dense woods surrounding us seem to go on for miles. I have an itch to explore them but have the sense that Bec wouldn’t be able to make such a journey, so I allow her to show me her favorite areas instead.
When we reach the glass-encased pool house, an equal sense of longing and foreboding lingers as I glance at the pool. I’ve always loved water. Growing up, I think my sisters and I spent so much time swimming I’m surprised we didn’t turn into prunes. But now, I can’t forget how dangerous it feels too.
“Willow?” Bec’s voice infiltrates my thoughts.
“Yes?” I blink at her, still slightly off balance.
“I asked if you liked it.”
“Oh, yes.” I force a smile. “Very much.”
“Maybe we can swim together sometime.”
I’m about to tell her I’d love that when a sharp voice from behind cuts me off.
“You will do no such thing, Rébecca. What did I tell you about befriending the witch?”
Bec’s face falls as she dips her head and slowly turns to meet the woman’s gaze. The woman, I presume, must be her grandmother, Salomé.
Before either of us can respond, Salomé directs her withering gaze over me, then to her granddaughter. “Get in the house, Rébecca. Now.”
Bec offers me an apologetic glance, her shoulders slumping before she takes her leave. Tension coils in my spine, and I have to bite my tongue as I watch her go. I don’t know the family dynamics yet, but I recognize that same dark energy I’ve felt within the house inside of Salomé.
“So you’re the Wildblood.” She says the name as if she means to say trash.
I offer her a sweet, condescending smile. “I am.”
“Marked by the devil, I can see.” Her attention drifts to the crescent moon peeking out of the décolletage of my black dress, and her face twists into a sneer as she takes in my visible tattoos and jewelry.
“If you say so,” I reply, refusing to let her see she’s getting to me.
“I suppose you’ll do,” she says after a beat. “After all, I doubt you’ll be around too long.”
Her words don’t sound like a prophecy but a threat.
“I suppose we’ll see,” I answer in challenge.
Her eyes narrow, and it’s clear she’s not used to anyone talking back to her. “Stay away from my granddaughter,” she issues the decree with unwavering authority. “Or you’ll see the devil come out of me.”
I roll my eyes and turn my back on her, choosing to walk away. But it doesn’t stop me from hearing her final words as I go.
“The only good Wildblood is a dead Wildblood.”
13
WILLOW
I spend the rest of the morning unpacking my things, intentionally decorating the room in a way I know will grate on Azrael. I prominently display my apothecary bottles, tarot cards, crystals, and whatever witchy belongings I suspect will raise his hair.
When I glance at the clock again, I’m dismayed when I realize it only took me an hour to settle in. Time seems to pass so slowly in this house, and I haven’t even been here a full day. I can’t imagine what a year will feel like.
I shudder at the thought, trying to figure out how to spend the rest of my time today. My phone is charging, and I know I need to check in with my family, but I’m not sure I’m ready to answer all of their questions just yet.
I could read. Or take a nap with Fiona. But I feel too restless for that.
I find it strange that I haven’t seen Azrael this morning. Bec and I walked through most of the house and the grounds and never crossed his path. Part of me hopes I never have to see him again after the discovery I made in his nightstand drawer, but I know I won’t be that lucky.
