Page 95 of Heart of a Witch
I drank back the whiskey and slid my glass for another. I’d spent more time here in the past few days than ever before. “I’ll go see him.”
“Why did you fall out anyway?”
“Same old,” I said, half explaining. “I know you’ll do a good job with the club, but I don’t want to sell it.”
He squeezed my arm. “I know.”
I downed the second whiskey before I stood. “Anything you want is on the house,” I said at some attempt of control, but we both knew it was futile at this point. The club would soon be his. “I’ll come by and grab my things later.”
***
Noelle had taken over the mansion. Red flowers lined the paths, white and green garland hung from every surface, fir trees decorated each room, and fake snow had been placed inside to match the outdoors. The smell of cinnamon and chocolate filled the halls.
I bowed when I saw him, then rose slowly. “Your holiness,” I said, addressing the high priest when I saw him walking in my direction. He wore robes of satin white and had flowing hair of gray. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. He sandwiched my hand between his. “Elijah, it is good to see you, my boy.”
He always had been kind, kinder than my father, by far. “How has your visit been?”
“Most humbling,” he said vaguely. “Your father has been asking after you.” He hesitated. “I believe him to be unwell.”
“I heard.” I nodded. “I’m going to look for him now.”
“I will see you in a couple of days, for my final sermon.”
“You’re leaving so soon?” I asked, and he released my hand.
“I’m afraid so.”
I didn’t want to ask why. “I will be there.”
He smiled again, and I bowed as he walked in the opposite direction, toward the kitchen with his three priests. I hurried up the staircase and to my father’s room, where I found him digging his nails into his thigh.
His hair was thinning more than usual. His bony fingers were clasped around each other, his robes looser than the last time I’d seen him. He looked through me and then at me as if he’d seen a ghost. “Son?”
“It’s me,” I said, my mouth turning dry. I eyed his scar and looked down at my own healed knuckles.
He rushed to me with tears in his eyes, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You’re home, away from those wretched things. I’ve been so worried. I was trying to find a way to get you and Corbin out of there. Where is he?”
“What are you—oh, you think they’re witches. That’s right.” I rolled my eyes. “I see not much has changed.”
“They’ve sent demons into my home.” His lip trembled, his eyes unseeing as they moved to the staircase. “A woman comes in the night to…”
“What woman?”
He shuddered. “I don’t know, but I think she’s a demon. She made me… She tricked me…” He struggled, tears pushing from the corners of his eyes. “I am a good man.”
My forehead wrinkled. “There’s been talk, that you’re losing your mind.”
He took my hands in his. “No, I’m not. Who said that? No.” He shook his head, hardly proving his point. He glanced at the staircase again and pointed. “There she is.”
I looked at the empty space. “There’s no one there.”
“There was. She was right there.” His expression crumpled. “Believe me, son.”
I looked from him to the staircase, an unnerving feeling coming over me. He really was losing his mind. “I saw the high priest.”
“Yes, he’s going this evening to the church. He asked me to stay here today. He said I wasn’t in the right state to perform a sermon, but it’s only because I’m tired. She doesn’t let me get any sleep. She comes in my dreams and—”
I grabbed his arms, my eyes focused on his. “I think you need some help. An herb to make you sleep? I have someone who can get it for you.
