The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) (46 page)

Armand was convinced the child was his, though the letter claimed the father was some jackass from Ireland.

Now, as he paced this mausoleum of a house, chain smoking until his lungs burned, he could do nothing but wait impatiently until they arrived.

“She’s here!” Merry jump from the couch, racing for the door. Sure enough, a taxi pulled into the lot and Sasha stepped out of it, clutching a pink-swaddled infant in her arms. Armand stepped out on the porch, kissing Sasha on the cheek. He inspected her new addition to the family.

The baby, Maggie, had red hair. Just like his.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice brittle.

Sasha looked at him with cold indifference. “Thank you.” She was dressed in a sparkly gown and high-heeled shoes, as if off to a party.

“You’re sure it’s not mine, huh?” He squinted as he studied the baby’s face. He couldn’t get a read on the child’s energy.

But she had green eyes. Just like his.

“As I’ve said before, your fertility spell did not take. Maggie is two months old now. Do the math.”

“Only off by a month,” he said warily.

“A month is quite enough time to find and bed another, Armand, as you can surely attest.”

Miss Lettie ambled onto the porch. “Where’s Jillian?” she asked.

“She’ll be returning shortly. She went for her things first.” Sasha turned towards Armand, staring into his eyes. “All past misconduct has been ‘forgiven.’”

Sasha entered the house with her baby and they were quickly swarmed by the Council, all making a grand fuss over the newest family member. Armand pushed towards the center, wanting a closer look in the light. The child’s coloring was the same as his, but her features were her own. Still, there was something about her.

Her aura shone so brightly, he almost had to squint against it.

He pushed his tongue to the top of his mouth. If Maggie was his daughter, she might still be fit to trade, girl or not. There was no doubt she would grow up to be very powerful, regardless of gender. He just needed to determine paternity, then make a few inquiries.

Armand continued scrutinizing the baby, noting the softness of her lips, the sharpness of her green eyes, the vibrancy of her aura. The girl almost reminded him of...

He snatched the baby away from Lettie, quickly unbinding her from her blanket, inspecting her bare legs and knees.

“Armand!” Sasha cried out. “Leave my child alone!”

“One sec, babe.” He twisted Maggie onto her side, scouring her for marks.

Witch marks.

In particular, one shaped like a butterfly.

But the baby’s skin was clear, except for a smattering of freckles across her nose.

“My mistake,” he said, handing over the child and backing away.

He felt suddenly sick and stepped outside.

There would be no inquiries tonight. He’d have to find another way to pay his debt. He wondered if Sasha had told the truth about cursing him––about him only having daughters. “I guess I can test it out with Larinda,” he muttered to himself.

In a fog, he walked into the woods, and didn’t come out for three days.

AS THE GLOBE dream dissolved, my eyes popped open. Of all the memories I’d visited, this was the most personal, the most disturbing.

I tiptoed from the room, leaving Shane sleeping in my bed. Michael passed me in the hall, carrying a diaper bag. “Getting Montana ready for his doctor appointment,” he said.

“Thank you.” I gave him a grateful smile before locking myself in the bathroom. I quickly stripped off my clothes and scanned my reflection in the mirror, front to back, searching.

Searching for the same mark my father sought to find.

I swallowed.

But there was nothing to be found. No magical trace that would indicate my lineage.

Relieved, I dressed and stumbled out of the bathroom, still thinking over the dream.

Mother had managed to convince Armand I wasn’t his, at least initially. She must have really hated him. Or feared him.

I recalled his thoughts on repaying his debt, and his musings on if a girl would suffice. If Mother had guessed his full intentions, it was no wonder she hid us!

My head hurt worse than usual and the remnants of last night’s fever hung around like an unwelcome guest. The final globe had not released me from the curse. I was still weakened and vulnerable, and still didn’t have any real answers.

I’d seen what was in my father’s heart. Knowing that he could be out there in the world somewhere strengthened my resolve to protect my son––Armand’s only male heir.

But I would not let him get to us. I would reclaim myself, becoming the most powerful witch that ever walked. Not even Armand would mess with me. Curse or no curse, nothing would get to Montana.

I shut out all worries of failure as I returned to my bedroom. But as I passed Eve’s open door, I stopped.

My eyes flickered to the vial of blue oil on her vanity. And the vial of crimson oil beside it.

Magickal Vanishing Oil, and...
Magickal Reappearing Oil.

I slipped inside Eve’s empty room, locking the door and undressing again. I dabbed the reappearing oil where witch’s marks were usually located: wrists, ankles, hips, behind the ears and knees. I turned and twisted in my sister’s full length mirror, testing for any suspicious markings. Nothing changed.

I was about to give up when I felt the skin on my lower thigh tingle, sending cool shivers up my leg. I trembled while I waited. Then, slowly, a dime sized mark showed itself to me.

A butterfly.

“Oh, God.” I stumbled backwards, thumping into the railing of Eve’s bed.

Mother hadn’t gotten pregnant by Armand’s fertility spell.

But Jillian had.

I could hardly catch my breath. I leaned forward, hyperventilating.

I’d been hidden in plain sight.

The woman I’d thought was my mother my entire life didn’t share my blood. And the woman who I thought was my friend had given birth to me.

I cried into my hands. Nothing made sense, but at the same time everything made sense.

Maybe I’d known it all along.

Jillian wasn’t strong enough to protect me from Armand. But Sasha was.

I SAT ACROSS from Jillian on the bare stone floor, staring into her clover green eyes. Neither of us spoke. The air outside the solitary shelter in the glen was calm and serene. A white butterfly flitted in, perching on the windowsill, just as before.

Jillian’s eyes were soulful, her mouth an unreadable straight line, her energy measured and controlled. “I’m sorry you found out this way,” she said simply.

Her narrow shoulders fell and her mouth followed. She waited for me, waited to see how things had changed between us.

“I’m sorry I missed having you as my mother,” I said back. A tear slid down my cheek, and then another. I didn’t wipe them away. This was an honest moment between us, one of the few we’d ever exchanged.

Jillian began crying too. Her tears kept coming until her face was damp. “Maggie, you don’t know how hard it was. But I couldn’t give you the life you needed. I couldn’t give you a safe life.

“Once we learned that Armand promised his male first heir to the...” She shivered and looked quickly away. “I didn’t know then, when we were together. I promise I didn’t know.” She dabbed at her eyes and sucked in a breath. “You weren’t a boy, but we couldn’t risk it. I didn’t have Sasha’s bracelet, and at the time my abilities weren’t as honed. I was no match for your father in my youth. I thought it through a million times. It was the only way.”

“You could have taken me and we could have hidden together,” I began. My mind reeled with the possibilities.

She shook her head. “I considered it. But he would have found me. Armand and I are linked.”

“Twin Souls?”

“No, but we’ve shared many incarnations together. I thought I could save him––turn him from the dark path he was on. But his love for power exceeded even his love for me. I was weak around him and Sasha knew that.”

“You would never have turned me over!”

“No, of course not. And my love for you was far greater than my love for him. You are the best of both of us.” She paused, her eyes resting on the butterfly balanced on the windowsill. “He would have sniffed us out like a hungry dog. He had his tunnels and other ways to find us. My best bet at hiding you was not to hide you.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I choked, thinking of all the people who must have known.

“We were under a spell, Maggie. Another layer of Sasha’s protection. And a powerful one that lasted even after she crossed over.”

“She was still that worried about me?”

“Yes. And there was more than your personal safety on her mind. You were Armand’s daughter after all, and as strong-willed as he was. Sasha feared what you might become without her guidance.”

 
Jillian continued. “As fate would have it, she had already decided, long before you were born, that she would reform the Council. Raise up daughters to continue her work. No warlocks, she insisted. She thought men were weak, and would eventually give in to power or sex or fortune.”

“Some do,” I agreed.

“And some women also,” Jillian said. “Look at Larinda.”

“Yes.” I reached out, taking her hands. Taking
my mother’s
hands. We’d always shared a bond that was stronger than I could understand, and now I knew why. Still, somehow I felt guilty, like I was betraying the woman who’d raised me.

Jillian shook her head. “Don’t feel bad. Sasha loved you all like daughters. She...”

“All?” I interrupted. “Ruth Anne? Eve? Merry? Are they hers?”

Jillian rolled her eyes upward, mouthing inaudible words, then nodded, satisfied. “Now that you know the truth, I believe the silence spell is lifted. Ruth Anne is Sasha’s only biological daughter, but Sasha was disappointed by the lack of ability she displayed and didn’t think she would help her cause. Merry was adopted. As was Eve.”

“Adopted! From other Council members, like me?”

“Sasha sought out girls born of powerful mothers. She convinced them that their daughters could save the world, if they came to Dark Root to live with her. She was a persuasive speaker. She even convinced me.” Jillian drew her knees into her chest, and I was reminded of the young woman I’d seen in the globes. I hadn’t known my true mother growing up, but thanks to the globes, I saw glimpses of her that most daughters were never privy to.