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In high school, I’d more often than not gone after the bad boys I’d known would hurt me in the end. Grams had said it was because I was a rebellious child, which made sense. She’d told me it was the devil’s gleam in my eyes that warned of the unruly defiance to conform to what the world expected me to be. But the moment Rowan touched me, I’d bent to his every dark and deviant request, demand, and desire. Even now, I was soaking wet with the need to feel his rough hands running over my naked flesh.
The front door opened, and I turned to find Grams coming down the stairs. She was dressed in a black, ankle-length skirt that brushed the tops of her soft, leather sandals, and an over-bustline sweetheart corset of shimmering silver, midnight blue, and onyx covered her ample cleavage. Her silver hair was braided into a bun, which was held atop her head with lengths of quartz and iron. Several charm necklaces hung around her neck, each one clanging against the next, and even more bracelets adorned her wrists.
I slid the message into my skirt pocket and then smiled as she came to a stop in front of me. “I thought you said your car was wrecked?” Her eyes slid past me toward the vehicle.
“It was,” I admitted, not really wanting to explain how it ended up here and undamaged. “It seems someone was kind enough to tow it here for me, so I didn’t lose my deposit on it. I’m just thankful to have one less thing to worry about today.”
The huff of annoyance told me she knew exactly who the ‘someone’ was, but I didn’t offer any affirmation or denial to her silent judgment. After another moment passed and she was convinced I would not crack, her gaze slid down the billowy shirt I wore and then to the sheer, spaghetti-strap camisole and lacy bralette that were clearly visible beneath it.
It was unseasonably hot, and there was no way I was going to sweat my ass off in her old, 1950 Chevrolet 3100 pickup truck that lacked seatbelts and air conditioning. Not that I didn’t love her truck, because I did. Some of my fondest memories were made in the truck papa had restored into her dream car. I’d loved listening to her reminisce about the details and all the special touches he’d put into it just because he adored her. Their type of love was my end goal, and it had been since I was old enough to understand how unconditional and easy it had been for them.
I slid onto the soft, white leather bench seat and adjusted my skirt before yanking the heavy door closed. After rolling down the window, I placed my elbow out the door and leaned my chin on it, staring out at the meadow filled with wildflowers.
“I think they bloomed because they sensed your return, Moira. That meadow has been nothing but greenery without a blossom in sight since you left the manor. As much as I fear you being near to him, I’m glad you’ve returned home.” Smiling, I turned to face her.
“I’ve missed you too, Grams. I can’t wait to tell you about the things I’ve learned and the people I’ve met. You’d love Ireland. It’s so magical.” Her smile faltered before she laughed and slowly nodded.
“I can imagine it is, darling.” Sometimes, I really thought it was such a shame she’d never left the States, but not once had she ever expressed the desire to travel. “If you need more rest, I suggest you do it before we reach the others. It’s going to be a bit of a drive up to the peak of the mountain.”
Despite her suggestion, I didn’t nap, and the drive was quiet and left me time to think. When the truck downshifted and then idled, my eyes slid to the thick forest around us.
“It’s time,” Grams stated, but I was too transfixed by the hooded figures standing in the brush. There were even more figures behind them, some of whom carried lanterns with flickering candles in them. Still others, the ones who wore crimson and were interwoven with the hooded figures that had my blood turning ice cold in my veins. The air thickened with tension and something else I couldn’t define.
“What is this?” I demanded in a sharply whispered hiss.
“This is your awakening to magick, Moira Darling. It’s time to see how powerful you truly are. Come, my father’s waiting for us.”
“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me. Don’t get out of the truck, Moira. This isn’t Wonderland, and you’re no Alice.” Staring at the figures lingering in the woods, I felt a shiver rushing down my spine as fear churned in my abdomen. “Today is not a good day to die. I knew I shouldn’t have got out of bed.”
Chapter Nine
Moira
Igluedmyassfirmly to the seat and wasn’t budging. Staring at Grams, I opened my mouth and then closed it loudly because words seemed to have failed me. Wasn’t she a little past the point of a midlife crisis? Was she on drugs? Did people her ageevendo drugs? She wasn’tthatold, but I could recall smelling weed a time or two when I was young, so maybe that was it.
“Come, Moira. We don’t make the devil wait. It’s rude.” She hummed as she exited the truck, but I just stared after her, doing my best impression of a fish out of water. After she’d taken a few steps, she glanced back to see if I was following, which I wasn’t. “Now!” she snapped.
This was how I died, I decided as my fingers pulled the doorhandle. I felt it in my bones. Stepping out of the truck, I exhaled a shaky puff of air. The moment the door slammed closed behind me, chanting began. Every sane mind cell I had left demanded I run, get the fuck off the mountain, and keep going until I was far away from here.
I’d never been surer about anything in my life than I was about this. If I didn’t leave right this second, I was going to end up tied to a stone altar on a mountaintop, which would result in my making headlines as the unfortunate soul whose grandmother had sacrificed her to a nameless god.
“Grams?” I hissed through teeth that chattered harder the louder the cult-like assholes chanted.
“Shh, you must remain silent until He speaks.”
“Who the hell isHe?”
“My father, who’s also the devil.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, unable to do anything but stare at her as if she hadn’t just straight-up said her father was thedevil.
“Um, excuse me? But did you just say the devil is your daddy? Like, he got busy with your mother, and nine months later, you strolled out of her . . . lady parts . . . because, well, Grams?”
I looked through the hooded figures who remained in place, chanting their eerie hymns of doom. Had she actually left me with the crazy cult people? She wouldn’t do that, right? Fuck!
“Grandma? I’m not stepping a single pinky toe into these woods. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know not to enter the damn woods! I mean, really? My father’s the devil, but it’s okay. Come on in, little girl! We’ve got candy, free books and Wi-Fi? I mean, where’s the white van with the shitty spray paint job? Or, did you think more like there’s an altar with your name on it, written in the blood of the last stupid virginal bimbo who was dumb enough to follow me into the creepy ass woods! This entire scenario just screams ‘bad fucking idea’ all over it!”
I huffed before a deep, richly accented baritone whispered, “A virgin cannot be a bimbo, love.”
