“There ya are, dear.” Cait smiled. “Welcome back. Ya gave us quite a scare.”
There you are.
The terrifying voice whispered through her mind.
Jennifer pushed up in her cushioned chair. The furniture’s feet slid from the force of her movement, making a loud noise against the rug.
Rory came from behind her as if to steady her. He held her by the back of her elbow. “Try to take it easy.”
Jennifer looked around in confusion. Books lined a wall of dark shelves. Curtains covered a large window. Light came from a couple of table lamps. The green glass panels of the shade casting patterns on the ceiling.
Margareta and Cait stood watching her, heads tilted to the side ever so slightly, with matching pod-people expressions. She expected alien heads or robot parts to spring past their plastered smiles at any moment.
“How did I get in here?” Jennifer asked. Then, remembering her numb mouth, she frowned. “What did you dose me with?”
“Dose?” Margareta gave a weak laugh.
“Ya fainted, dear,” Cait said.
Jennifer pulled her hand from Rory. “I’m not an idiot. What was in that cheese?”
“Herbs,” Cait said.
“Spices,” Margareta added.
“Ma, Aunt Margareta, stop,” Rory ordered.
“Rory don’t cause a scene,” Cait said to her son, her teeth gritting just enough to cause her fake smile to falter.
“Are ya allergic to—?” Margareta began, trying to act all innocent.
“Bullshit?” Jennifer quipped.
Margareta gasped a little at her bluntness.
“Yeah, Margareta, I am allergic to bullshit. Thanks for asking.” Jennifer jerked her arm from Rory. “I’m leaving. Can’t say it was a pleasure to meet either of you.”
Jennifer felt her rage mounting. It was all she could do to keep the anger at bay next to Rory but faced by whatever roofie Cait and Margareta had slipped into her food; it came pouring out of her. Her limbs trembled, and she knew if she didn’t get out of there fast, she’d do something she regretted.
“Wait,” Cait tried to protest.
“Jennifer,” Margareta said as if to call her back.
Jennifer heard footsteps following her and walked faster. She didn’t know where she was going, but she found herself in the front hall next to the giant staircase when she left the library.
“Jennifer,” Rory called, following her.
She walked faster toward the front door.
“Jennifer,” he insisted.
“What’s happening?” a voice called from above.
“Not now, Euann,” Rory said.
“Ah, did ya mess it up with her already?” Euann teased with a laugh. “I think that’s a world record, even for ya, cousin.”
“Shut up, Euann!” Rory insisted. “Not now, Ma. Ya have done enough damage.”
Jennifer tried to jerk the front door open, and her hand slipped off the knob. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing or talking or this freaking door. She grabbed the knob with both hands, but it wouldn’t budge. In anger, she shook it violently. “Let me out of here!”
“Rory, what happened?” Euann’s voice became concerned.
Rory appeared beside her. She jerked away from him. He lifted his hands, fingers spread to show he meant no harm as he slowly reached past her to turn the deadbolt lock on the door. He then pulled the knob to open it for her.
Jennifer rushed out of the house. Her heart beat faster. She didn’t think past the need to get away from the mansion. She ran past Rory’s car and headed down the driveway.
“Jennifer, wait, I can give ya a ride wherever ya want to go. Don’t leave like this.” Rory called after her. “Please, just take a breath and try to calm down. I can explain.”
“Calm down?” She stumbled and caught herself before turning to face him as he came after her. “Calm down! You know, Rory, all women know not to leave a drink unattended at a bar. It’s one of the sad realities of being female. We open our own drinks, even water bottles, or watch it being made for fear someone will slip us a Mickey. I know how to live on my own as a woman and protect myself, but apparently, I missed the lesson on not taking cheese from strangers.”
“Slipped a mickey?” He started to shake his head in denial.
“Slip a mickey, roofie, Mickey Finn, micked, knock-out drops, GHB, Rohypnol, Ketamine, LSD, what-ever-the-fuck—” she yelled.
“I can explain,” he tried to insert.
“—they put into that food,” she continued, pointing angrily toward the mansion. “You know they did. They didn’t want you eating it but were super high-pressure that I should try it. There is no satisfying explanation for that. I’m going to the police. I’m going to make them give me a blood test. You can’t treat people like this. I don’t care if you are rich and live in a castle.”
“They were trying to help ya purge,” he said.
Purge? What the hell?
“Purge what? My insides? My sanity?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of crap you’re used to getting away with, but—”
“Purge evil intent.” He tried to reach for her.
“Evil? Are you fucking kidding me?” she cried. The release of outrage felt great, like a dam had broken free on her feelings, and all the pent-up emotions came out on her like a churning lava-fueled river.
“I know ya don’t want to hear it right now, and I don’t blame ya for being mad, but their hearts were in the right place. It…it backfired a little. Please, I can explain this better. Give me a chance to—”
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear it,” Jennifer denied. She resumed her escape down the long driveway. The lights from town called her like a beacon, giving her context to where she needed to go. “If I require some kind of spiritual evil-purging journey, I’ll find a qualified shaman, not a freaking football party rubbery cheese ball—that wasn’t even all that amazing, to be honest.”
Actually, a shaman might not be a bad idea. Or psychic ghost-hunter. Someone to stop the creepy voice from following her around. A shrink?
“Jennifer, stop, there’s so much that ya don’t understand yet,” Rory said. “Things I didn’t want to have to tell ya if I was wrong. Things I
