The desperation in her eyes inspired a calm in me, and I realized at that moment that time was of the essence. With Sarah alive she would tell the magistrate where she had gotten the cake that had killed George and they would be here at any time, ready to drag me to my death.
I rushed Iris into our humble cottage and thrust the bag of coins at her. It had the complete sum of what Sarah had paid me, plus a stockpile of Colonial coins that I had been saving for many years. As I hurriedly gave her a smattering of instructions and the name of our distant cousin in Boston, I whirled like a tornado, packing the wagon with anything of note, plus pemmican, wine, breads and the like.
She blubbered behind me, asking question after question that I had no time to answer and I knew I had to trust her instincts for survival, as I could not guarantee her safety here.
“Come with me, mama,” she begged, grabbing at my apron as I rushed about.
“I cannot,” I spat out. “The magistrate will do whatever it takes to find me. Your only chance is to flee without me.”
“What have you done, mama?” Iris cried. “Why would the magistrate want you?”
I paused and looked deep into her eyes. “I miscalculated terribly, my love,” I grabbed her warm hands in mine and kissed them, ignoring the mixture of our tears on them. “Know that I loved you.”
“Am I never to see you again?” she shrieked, overcome with the finality in my eyes.
“You will not see me alive in this world again,” I confirmed, ignoring her wailing as I held her upright in my arms. My calm was bolstered only by my need to be level headed for her as I recalled Malvina’s tome. “But a witch of my power need not leave the Earth so completely.”
Through her hysterics she eyed me and I whispered instructions to her, forcing her to repeat back to me the vital portions, imparting onto her that she was the key to my return.
When I concluded we stared at each other for a beat in silence before I leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. I took in her scent one last time, remembering how I’d kissed her sweet, milky cheeks when she was a baby.
Stoically I tucked her into the cart and handed her the reins, nodding her forth, trying to ignore her sobs as I watched her disappear into the distance.
I turned on my heel and retrieved Malvina’s book, tucking it into a pocket of my dress that I had sewn in long before to hide things from Mr. Worthe. I knew I would need it, and had known that I could not leave it with Iris with such an uncertain future and so little experience with magic.
Realizing there was nothing for me to do but wait, I sat wearily in the plain, rickety chair at my humble table, and there I still sit, watching the light change in my cabin. Sunset slashes through windows, darkening the walls as I hear the unmistakable gallop of horses echo in. They are here. Here to end it. Here to end me.
Chapter 18
Erik
The events of the last 24 hours weigh heavily on my mind. A lot to unpack, as the kids these days say. Every time I close my eyes I see that twisted thing crawling against the wall like a sinuous insect. It’s deformed claws had tapped into the hardwood, like the sound of a crab skittering across tin. It had been something brewed from a nightmare, and the thought of it having been in our house all these years, festering and growing like a disease, froze me to the core. Gone or not, it would haunt me forever.
But banishing the creature had also ushered in things I’d feared to never feel again. Juniper’s world had brightened and all day she had smiled freely, her voice sing-song, as it had once been. It was filled with hope, which had run on short supply in my household for over a decade.
I rub the steam off the antique mirror still hanging heavily in the bathroom and begin to carefully shave. I am due to see Kat very shortly and I grin at the thought, summoning her vivid features in my mind.
Life experiences can never be returned, and neither can the many years we lost, but to have the opportunity to pick back up is a blessing and not one I intend to waste.
I’m not sure what the night will hold but I’m happy just to be in her presence, soaking her in. Her easy humor and sexy eyes tantalize my thoughts as I finish my grooming. I remind myself to keep my thoughts pure, she may want to take it slow—though 11 years can’t get much slower.
I dress casually but with care before grabbing my keys and wallet off the kitchen table where Juniper sits with her tea.
“Finally going to deflower my best friend?” she teases, blowing gently on the steam billowing out of the mug.
“I feel like that garden was probably plucked before now,” I laugh. “But thanks for making it incredibly weird.”
“My pleasure, my good man,” she giggles. “So, are you moving to Los Angeles?”
“We just re-acquainted, woman,” I say, eyebrows raising at her presumption.
“What if she eats hamburgers well-done? Or clips her toenails in bed?”
“She just may. She’s always been a bit of a foul creature,” Juniper nodded. “Remember the time we found a Christmas cookie under the seat in her car in July? Some things never change, I don’t care how pretty she is.”
“Well, she’s fucking gorgeous, but I’m sure her room is a hovel where poptarts go to die,” I say with a grin pulling at my lips. “But I think I can deal.”
“It's a hard job, but someone has to do it,” Juniper laughs, sipping from her mug carefully.
“But I am not trying to freak her out with
