Carnival of Souls

The thought of her father killing Kaleb made her feel sick. He’s a daimon. He has to be put down. She had been falling for a daimon. I miss him already.

“You need to be calm.”

“I just watched you torture the boy I like, who apparently is a daimon. I’m not going to be calm!” She reached up and gripped the stone pendant around her throat. It burned in her hand, but she didn’t let go. “I have a right to know what’s going on!”

Adam looked heartbroken for a moment. He repeated, “I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t need to do this when you’re awake.”

And then her father spoke a spell, and a wave of darkness swept her away.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but Mallory opened her eyes to find that she was nestled in her bed. She felt better — and worse. The tears and panic that had overwhelmed her were gone, driven away by a raw new pain. Her father, the one person in her life who had meant everything to her, had used his magic on her.

She slid out of her bed, wrapped herself in her robe, and went to the window. She’d grown up accepting her father’s inhuman status. He was her dad; that was all that mattered. It meant there were odd restrictions, secrets, and constant moves. It hadn’t frightened her. Adam was overprotective, but his witchery was a way to keep her strong. Over the years, she’d drunk so many concoctions that she’d stopped wondering what was in them. Even if she knew, she didn’t know if it would help. Now, she was wondering how much he’d hidden. Since she wasn’t his biologically, she had no witchery in her, no ability to see a list of herbs or strange items and determine what they did when combined. Adam seemed to know so many things intuitively. He had a grimoire somewhere — probably in the locked trunk in his room — but she never saw him consult it.

Quietly, Mallory walked to the kitchen, but she stopped at the threshold.

Adam closed his laptop. “You shouldn’t be in here, Mals.”

The bowls of herbs, liquids, and fruits on the counter created the illusion that he was preparing a complicated meal, and she supposed that in some way that’s exactly what it was. The potions he cooked weren’t much different from the soups he made. The key difference, of course, was that he used skills that humans didn’t possess, and that she couldn’t understand, to create potions.

“You spelled me.”

“You were upset.” Adam looked haggard, but he wasn’t apologizing.

She stared at him. “Did you do that to Mom? Is that why she left?”

Adam stilled.

Mallory stayed in the doorway. “I know she disagreed about teaching me things — not that I could learn everything anyhow because I’m not your real…” Her words fell off. She was his daughter in almost every way. “I wish I was; even though you just did that, I still wish I was a witch.”

“You’re not a witch, but you are mine, Mals.” He gave her the barest of smiles. “And, no, Selah didn’t leave because I spelled her… or because I spelled you.”

Mallory felt a small relief, but she heard the things he wasn’t saying, too: he didn’t deny that he’d used his witchery on her without her consent before now. She felt like her world had gone off the rails. Her sort-of boyfriend was a daimon; her father used spells on her; and there were more secrets that she still didn’t know.

Adam interrupted her thoughts by saying, “Selah and I disagreed sometimes because she wished you knew more sooner, but I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what?”

He looked pointedly at the hem of her robe. “Don’t disturb the circle.”

She lifted her robe, so it didn’t brush against the floor. “You’re ignoring the topic… topics, I guess. I want to know more. I think I deserve to.”

“You already know what matters. Daimons hate witches; witches hate daimons. Their world is terrible, and my whole family died there, except for Evelyn.” Adam poured steaming liquid into a tall glass pitcher. “If I could, I’d kill the daimon responsible for it, and if Marchosias can, he’ll kill me someday.”

“Marchosias?”

“He’s a ruthless bastard,” Adam said.

“Is he why Kaleb was here?”

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted.

Mallory forced herself to keep her voice even as she asked, “Why didn’t you kill Kaleb?”

“Bad judgment?” Adam sighed. “I was trying to avoid spelling you, and I knew if you found out you’d been spending time with one of them, you’d get upset. I can usually dispatch them or adjust things so you don’t have to know… but the potion I’d given you wasn’t finished working. The Watcher did something when she saw you…. It’s what I’m repairing. I knew more magic would knock you out, so I offered him a deal: I’d let him leave if he didn’t tell you what he was. I thought we had an agreement.” A dry sound, not quite a laugh, came from Adam. “I don’t break my vows, Mallory, so I couldn’t kill him if he left without spilling the secrets he had. If he hadn’t pushed me, you would’ve remained unaware — that he is a daimon and that I’ve spelled you.”

“For how long?”

For several minutes Adam said nothing, and Mallory knew enough to stay silent as he finished mixing the ingredients he’d set out in front of him. The moment the last of the items was added, she repeated, “For how long?”

“I’ve spent a long time protecting you. There were other daimons. You’ve fought them. You’ve seen me… and Selah fight them. I’ve spelled you so you couldn’t ask questions.” He put his hands palms flat on the counter. “This time I failed to hide it, and because you were weak from the other night, I couldn’t erase your memory. You know now. Kaleb is a daimon. You let him into our home, your life, and now I need to figure out what to do. I’m afraid we can’t run any farther. I’m almost out of time.”

The pit that had been growing in Mallory’s stomach made her want to run to him like she had when she was a little girl. Her foolishness had exposed them, and she wanted to apologize… but if he’d told her the secrets he was still keeping, maybe it would be different. All of the questions she wanted to ask were bubbling up, and right now, she was actually asking them. Maybe it was because of whatever the daimon the other night did, or maybe she was getting bolder because of Kaleb. She didn’t know why. All she knew was that she was asking questions.

“Call Evelyn if anything happens to me,” he said. “She won’t lie, but she isn’t always honest in the strictest sense of the word. She’s done things for revenge that—” He stopped and shook his head. “Once I thought I could do that. It’s why I stole what I stole, but I changed. Being your father changed me, Mallory. Revenge mattered less than protecting you. All I want in this life is for you to have a safe future.”

He carried the glass pitcher of the potion to the edge of the kitchen. “I want you to go take a hot bath. The tub is already filling. When you get there, pour this into the water, turn off the spigot, and soak for a minimum of twenty minutes.”

Mallory accepted the pitcher. “I need answers, Daddy. You’re afraid. You just let a daimon live in order to continue to lie to me. We’ve moved near Evelyn now, and I’m not going to believe everything is okay when you dodge questions.” She swallowed nervously, and then she voiced the horrible thing she’d been trying not to say. “Maybe if I knew the secrets you are keeping, I wouldn’t have let him in.”

Adam stared at her for several moments. Then, he gestured in the general direction of the stairs. “We can talk later. You need to use that while it’s still fresh, and the office called while you were asleep. There was an emergency, and I need to go in, but when I get home… or maybe after work tomorrow, I can try to—”

“Tonight, Daddy,” she said firmly. “I want to know what you stole and everything else. I can’t keep living with these secrets. I don’t want to ask Evelyn or Kaleb, but if you don’t talk to me, I will.”

Her father sighed. “Mals… you don’t really want to know all of that. Trust me. Just take your medicine, and we can move past this.”

She’d spent her life obedient to her father. Arguing with him never worked; she always backed down. Not this time. She knew he’d spelled her; she’d almost fallen for a daimon because of Adam’s secrecy. “Evelyn and Kaleb will answer my questions. I know it, and you know it.”

“Bath first. You’ll feel better. If you really want to know later…”

“You promise you’ll tell me?” she prompted.

He sighed sadly and whispered words in his witch language. Then he said gently, “You need to be a good daughter now. Go pour that in the tub, and soak for a half hour.”