“Leslie. I’m not going to take it. I’m fine. I’m getting better.”
Sam hadn’t heard his father use that gentle tone since he’d been home. His dad lowered his own lever and moved to the edge of his seat, reaching out a hand to his mother.
“You know how I feel about that. I know what it does to you, the power it has over you, and what it does to you after. I would rather suffer a thousand years than see you go through that.”
Sam had so many questions, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get the answer with the other ladies in the house.
“I’m going to take the journal,” Hattie said to Erielle, softly. “Do you trust me to do that?”
Erielle nodded.
“Allison, let’s go,” Hattie said when the other woman brought the three cups of tea in on a tray. “You need to go pick up Hayden. Marie, let’s let them work it out.”
Erielle rose, too, her gaze on Sam. “Do you want me to stay?” she asked.
He did, more than he could say. But he knew his parents wouldn’t be as forthcoming with her there, and he had a lot of questions.
“I’ll be by before you go to work,” he promised.
She nodded, and left with the other women, leaving him alone with his family and their secrets.
Twenty-Eight
“You scared me,”Sam said finally, his voice low but rough. The words felt dangerous in the quiet kitchen. The three of them sat around the scarred wooden table, plates of untouched grilled cheese cooling between them. His mother had insisted she was starving, but she only picked at the crusts. He and his father hadn’t taken more than a bite.
He almost wished Susan were here—she wouldn’t let him push—but Susan hadn’t seen what he’d seen. She hadn’t endured the house, or the ghost, or the church.
“When I saw you in the church—” He broke off, throat tight.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Sam,” his mother whispered, her voice raspy, hollow with exhaustion.
“Your mother would never hurt you,” his father said firmly, his eyes fixed on Leslie. His voice carried the kind of devotion Sam remembered from childhood.
But Sam’s hands curled against the table. “She wasn’t…herself. You didn’t see it.”
His dad let out a long breath. “But I have seen it.” He didn’t look away. “I do know what you’re experiencing. It’s terrifying, through to your soul, what she can do.”
The words chilled Sam. “How long?” he asked, his gaze flicking from one parent to the other.
“I stopped,” Leslie said before his father could speak. Her hands twisted in her lap. “I stopped for years, because your father begged me to. You kids were young. I wanted to keep you safe.” Her voice cracked. “But when your dad was hurt, in so much pain, I was helpless. The Benoit house was empty. I knew the journal was there, knew it would have what I needed. So I went to get it, but I could never find it.”
Sam’s skin went clammy.She’d been in the house? In Erielle’s house? How many times? How had she gotten in?So Erielle hadn’t been imagining someone coming into her house.
“Erielle coming back was a blessing,” Leslie said, her eyes shining. “She found the journal. It was right there on the table, like a gift from Angeline. So I took it, took some herbs I needed, and did what I had to do.”
“For me,” his father added softly, sadly. He reached across and covered her hands with his. “You risked everything because I was hurt. But Les, I know the toll it takes on you. I would never ask you to pay that price. I’ll do everything in my power to make your life easier. I swear it.” His voice cracked on the words. “Please, promise me you’ll stay away from magic, stay away from those women.”
Sam’s thoughts splintered. If he closed his eyes, he saw his mother at the altar, eyes black, unseeing. He opened them, and saw her here: worn down, trembling, her shoulders slumped as though the weight of the world pressed on them.
And between the two versions, he couldn’t reconcile who she truly was.
“So what do we do?” he asked hoarsely.
“We take her to Baton Rouge,” his father said, leaning forward, his hand tightening on hers like he could anchor her. “We stay with her parents awhile. We build her strength back up, her resistance to temptation. And I—” His voice faltered. “I learn how to stop leaning on her so much.” He lifted her hand to his lips for a long moment. “This is all my fault.
Erielle pulled her car up in front of the Victorian after work and let out a long sigh. She’d kind of counted on spending the night at Sam’s again after work, but he’d never come in to Rumrunners tonight.
She got it. He had a lot to process, including the fact that his mother seemed to be a pretty powerful witch.
