Page 66 of Her Dreadful Will
Florence. Of course.
Soleil had seen the elderly woman a couple of times, sitting on the tiny front porch next door with another woman who was constantly scrolling through her phone. When Soleil had introduced herself to the pair, she’d sensed a complacent satisfaction in the younger woman, Nancy—a kind of lazy contentment with life. Florence’s volisphere had been a whispering cloud of lost memories and confusion—not something Soleil could fix; and she had been weary from mind-flexing other people that day, so she had left the two untouched by magic. They were placid enough, and harming no one.
Maybe she should have investigated more thoroughly. Another mistake. Another sign that her efforts in this town were nowhere near as effective as she’d hoped. Two failures, entwined into one almost-tragedy.
But how was Florence connected to Zillah?
Soleil tried to open her mouth to ask, but her jaw muscles wouldn’t work. Panic spiraled through her chest and her heart began to race. She wanted to scream for Achan, to beg him to help her. But the most she could manage was a tiny whimper.
“Young man!” called Florence. “I think your witch girl wants you.”
Achan raced back into the room, nearly spilling the glass of water in his hand. He handed it to Florence and made sure her grip was steady before kneeling next to Soleil.
“I know it hurts,” he said. “I’ll help you, I swear. I think your magical wounds should take priority, and we’ll fix the scratches later. I don’t have everything I need in my car—do you have magic supplies at home? Why am I even asking—of course you do. Let me secure Zillah first.”
He dragged the unconscious Zillah into the living room and propped her up in a corner. “I have to go get some things to help Soleil,” he told Florence. “Zillah won’t wake until I allow her to, but just to be safe—” He snapped his fingers and pointed to Zillah’s slumped form. “Carebear, lock.”
Carebear lifted his head from his guard post by the couch. He did not move. He stared at Achan with a look that plainly meant,How dare you command me? My place is here, with my mistress.
“I won’t use magic on you again, friend,” said Achan. “Unless you make me. Lock her up, Cerberus.”
Slowly, majestically, the Doberman rose and stalked over to Zillah, taking her wrist between his jaws and closing them just enough so that even if she did wake, she wouldn’t be able to slip free.
“Good boy. Thank you.” Achan half-smiled, shaking his head. “That dog adores you, Sol. Can’t say that I blame him.” He bent and pressed his mouth to her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
“What you gonna do about my front door, boy?” said Florence. “You broke it.”
“Sorry.” There was a pause, followed by a soft crawling, crunching sound, like pieces and slivers gathering and reassembling themselves. “There. Good as new. You just wanted to see more magic, didn’t you, Florence, you clever darling!”
The old woman cackled. “You got me.”
“Keep Soleil awake for me, would you?”
Florence nodded.
When the door shut behind Achan, silence reigned in the room—silence punctuated by the sharp ticking of a grandfather clock, and by the faint whirr of cool air flowing through the vents.
Florence’s voice cracked the stillness. “I don’t know how you did it, saving me. But I could feel you there in my head, child. Thank you.”
Soleil could only blink, but the racing of her heart eased a little.
“That boy is dangerous. You probably guessed he’s been using me to keep an eye on you.”
No, Soleil hadnotguessed that. Her brain had been too addled to arrive at that conclusion. Achan was watching her? Why?
“I can’t tell you any more than that, I’m afraid. He restored my mind and memory, brought back who I used to be. And for that I owe him. I will serve him as long as he lets me. Besides, if I refused, he would probably put the chaos back inside my head.” Chuckling grimly, she took a coaster from the stack on the end table. With gnarled fingers she adjusted it a few times before placing her glass on top of it. “He’s a charming devil. Can’t help liking him.”
She steepled her fingers and turned her gaze back to Soleil. “I like you too. But you’re a mess right now, honey, I ain’t gonna lie. Blood around your eyes and mouth, under your nose, all over your hands and your arm. I hope the witch boy knows how to get bloodstains out of upholstery. I’ve had that couch since the days of the Pharaohs, seems like. Close to thirty years, I think. And I still love the pattern.”
Soleil’s lips twitched. “S-s-sorry,” she breathed.
“It’s fine, honey-child. You lie still now. He’s gonna bring you some magicky things to fix you right up, you’ll see. And then we’ll talk about what to do with my granddaughter.” Her gaze shifted to Zillah. Carebear still held her wrist, drool from his lips dripping onto the carpet. “She’s gone right over the edge, bless her heart. Needs more help than I thought.”
“Your granddaughter?” Soleil managed.
Florence’s face tightened with pain. “A long life ain’t what it’s cracked up to be. Hang around long enough and you become an expensive nuisance. They forget that they used to love you. I remember when that child right there had brown curls like this—” she twirled her finger through the air. “The most beautiful ringlets. Soft little hands. She’d climb on my lap and I’d read to her. But her dad left, and her mom died, and the rest of the family is too darn selfish to be bothered. I wasn’t all here mentally when my daughter died. Don’t even remember her funeral. Not sure how Zillah ended up saddled with me, but it ain’t healthy for her.”
“She tried to kill you.” Soleil had to shape each word carefully. “Aren’t you angry?”
