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“Violet Bishop isn’t sick. Is that how she got you to return?” he asked incredulously. “She’s always been a crafty old bat, but I thought lying to her own blood just to force them back into the fold was beneath her. It’s a pity you carry their name, even though I don’t buy that you’re one of them. You’re entirely too naïve, pretty, and pliable, little bird.” His palm brushed against my cheek before he stepped back, dropping his hand to the passenger door handle and pulling it open. “Get your stuff and then be a good girl for me and walk through the hidden entrance to the estate. Don’t stop until you’re at the door. This isn’t the same place you grew up in. Hell’s empty, and all the devils are here to play. Shakespeare may have been preemptive, but he wasn’t wrong.”
I grabbed my backpack and purse and then stepped back so he could shut the door. He did and then rounded to the driver’s side without sparing me so much as a glance. Frowning at his odd dismissal, I spun on my heel and marched toward the ivy covering the small, hidden hatch beside an old willow tree. Yanking it open, I ducked through it as I closed the distance between me and the old manor that I’d grown up in.
The house was a large southern-style home, and in the dark, it was hard to see the ivy and dainty, blue flowers twining around the towering columns that rose to the veranda. Still, I knew they were there just as surely as I had known the supposed-to-be-secret entrance onto the property would be there. At the door, I tapped the ancient door knocker against the heavy wood three times before the familiar tune met my ears.
“I’m coming. Hold your knickers,” she called out a second before she pulled the door open. Her eyes widened when she clapped her sights on me, and her lips parted as if she were about to say something, but the hum of an engine revving forced her ice-blue stare to where Rowan was backing down the narrow lane. “Moira Darling, tell me you had the good sense not to entertain Rowan Teivel.”
“I went off the road on my way home. He was kind enough to offer me a ride,” I stated cautiously. The look of worry on her face as she continued looking past me was worrisome. Swallowing down the sense of foreboding, I turned to watch as he drove down the single lane road until only his headlights were visible in the darkness.
“He’s not for you, girl,” she whispered as we watched the taillights turning toward the neighboring mansion. “That one has his own demons to tend to, and then some.”
Chapter Three
Moira
“Comeon,getinside.There are demons out tonight,” she whispered as she yanked me inside and slammed the door closed behind us. Inspecting me with a gentle smile creating lines in the corner of her eyes, she shook her head slowly. “You look like roadkill.”
“Thanks, Grams,” I grumbled, setting my backpack down against the wall in the hallway. “I missed you, too.”
Her soft, blue eyes slid over me, searching for any changes since I’d left home five years ago. I’d changed a lot of things since leaving here five years ago, which I didn’t regret. I’d left a seventeen-year-old girl on the cusp of adulthood, and returned as a full-grown woman. After having LASIK surgery to fix my near-sighted issue, I paid to remove the braces early and slimmed down.
“You’ve grown up, child.” Her eyes teared up before she rubbed them. “I wish you would’ve warned me you were coming home. I’d have met you at the airport like I did last time,” she stated, wiping the lenses of her glasses on her robe before slipping them on.
“I wouldn’t make you pick me up. Besides, I drove from Boston to Idaho.” Wow, did she honestly think I’d allow her to make the four-hour drive to pick me up? I wasn’t an asshole, or at least, I tried not to be one. At her saddened look, I quickly looked for something to fill the silence. “I didn’t end up with much from my mother, did I?” Inwardly wincing at my stupidity of words, I smiled weakly.
“You know, I always thought you’d end up with our coloring when you were a babe. But I see now why the powers that be chose to let your inner-radiance shine. You may not have been blessed with the Bishop coloring, but you definitely have the same smile and intelligence of the women who came before you, Moira. Your coloring is all from the bastard who left a deposit in your mama’s belly.” Slowly blinking at her blunt reply, a smile spread over my face.
“I’ve really missed you, Grams.” No one was as blunt as my grandmother, or blasé about sex, either. I’d been embarrassed at first, but I loved it probably more than I should. The woman wasn’t shy about anything. I’d learned to filter what left my lips in Ireland when I’d offended more than one pearl-clutching woman with my bluntness.
I’d left Witchery Hollow as a terrified girl, and returned as a confident woman. When I’d left, I’d still had the braces because of an overbite, because I’d gotten them put on later than most kids would’ve. I’d been awkward and lanky without a hint of a figure in sight. In fact, I’d expected never to actually have one. Hard work spent in the gym, a lot of YouTube tutorials that had gone wrong, and I’d sculpted my body into somewhat of an attractive shape. Plus, my eyesight had been problematic, and I’d hated wearing the thick, Coke-bottle glasses in school. The kids had been merciless with their taunts and slurs they’d used on me. I’d hated myself more than any of them could’ve known. They merely added salt to a festering wound.
I’d saved up every penny I had to pay forLASIKsurgery, then found a dentist to remove the braces. Of course, if we’d had an actual orthodontist, I’d have been out of the braces long before I was. The one who’d removed them stated I hadn’t needed them
“Were there no suitable men abroad or in Boston?” she asked pointedly before heading to the hallway.
“I wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone.” Honestly, I hadn’t wanted to live that far from my only family. I hadn’t been looking for a prince charming, either. I had a tendency to pick out bad boys, or ones who’d break my heart if I let them near it, which was why I hadn’t let them get too close to me.
“You do know that beauty wanes? You’ve got to catch a man when you’re young and nail him down. Can’t steal his breath or his soul if you’re too old to chase after the fella.”
Her words conjured an image of her straddling grandfather as she sucked his soul from his lips, playing out in my head. Shaking it off, I laughed softly at my overactive imagination.
“I’ve met plenty of men but none worth bringing home.” The bevy of one-night stands I’d had rushed through my head. “I just haven’t found the one who gives me butterflies and takes my breath away.”
An image of Rowan popped up and removed the men I’d been with entirely from my mind. The prick hadn’t given me butterflies. He’d made me feel the entire zoo battling against my insides, while outright choking the air from my lungs.
“Well, you won’t be finding any here.”
Strolling down the hallway, I scanned the portraits of Bishop women adorning the walls. The oldest of the paintings dated back to the 1500s, but the historical line of images included every generation of Bishop women to the present. The hallway of our lineage was one of my favorite places to pass the time, and Grams had even placed an old Victorian-era chaise in the space just for me.
There was even one of Bridget Bishop, who’d been accused of consorting and fornication with the devil. Beside her portrait, Sarah Wildes stood with her step-daughter, Sarah Wildes-Bishop, at her side. The next portrait was of those who’d been persecuted for witchcraft throughout the trials. They had hung a few for it, while others had escaped imprisonment and then vanished without a trace. To the right of the Salem portrait was the branch of Bishop women who’d helped build Witchery Hollow from nothing more than a forest into a bustling small town where families were free to practice alchemy, herbology and naturopathic medicines.
They’d fled the puritan villages and settled here in the flowing mountain ranges of the Panhandle of Idaho. The legend states, they’d settled here because of the trees, which offered them protection from persecution. No puritans dared venture into the woods filled with the unknown. Punishing innocent people being accused by others was more to their liking, or so I assumed.
Back then, the world was ignorant of the ways to heal the sick or idled. Most of my ancestors had been healers, though, so after they heard of what happened in Salem, they wanted to avoid being persecuted because of superstition. I liked to think that my obsession with nature and naturopathic medicine was a little piece of them that had been passed down the lineage.
“They were beautiful souls, were they not? But they married and settled down, which is what you should’ve done. At the very least, you should’ve brought one home for your visit and acted as if you intended to wed the poor sod.”
“I didn’t return for a visit, Grams. I’m moving home. You need me here, and there was no way I wasn’t coming back after the message you left me,” I corrected as we entered the kitchen.
