Page 48 of When Bones Whisper
It was a young woman in her mid to late twenties, dressed in maid's clothes with a white, frilly apron tied around her middle.
She couldn’t have been much older than Charlotte when she died.
The woman’s beauty was evident in her angular features, big eyes, and wavy dark hair. Yet, death had depleted all the radiance from her. Panic settled through Charlotte’s ribs when the dead woman turned and faced them, her brown gaze pinning her to the wall. Her pale, split lips fell open, with only a ragged, dry rattle of a breath leaving them in what she assumed was a word.
She just couldn’t hear her. The dead didn’t talk. But this ghost wanted to. Desperately. She got closer, pointing her ringed finger at Charlotte. Shards of bone jutted out from her broken wrist, and blood seeped from her neck, wetting the ends of her dark hair.
Tears of blood rolled down her cheeks, a sadness creeping in through her bloodshot eyes.
Katherine positioned herself between Charlotte and the ghost, grabbing the woman’s arm, muttering Latin under her breath that came out in a rush of unintelligible whispers.
The corridor twisted, spinning them back through the veil in a suction that stole the air from her lungs. Suddenly, she was sucked back into her body in the library. The fire was crackling with orange and red flames. The smell of wood smoke and parchment was heavy in the air. Leather spines adorned every polished shelf, and the grandfather clock let out two loud dongs.
Charlotte glared at Katherine. Her eyes were shut, incantations still spilling from her lips. Without looking at her, Katherine extended her hand in a motion for Charlotte to join her.
Hesitantly, she walked over and Katherine grabbed her fingers before she could protest. Shockwaves shot through her palm, her body absorbing every surge of bubbling energy. The tingles ran through her arms and into her neck in a shiver, before working their way down her spine.
It wasmagic.More than just energy, the power was also a feeling akin to a first kiss, to seeing a perfect starlit sky, and drinking champagne for the first time.
The horror of what had just happened slipped away. The power within her was alive.
It made her feel powerful. And once she’d gotten a taste of it, there was no way she was going back. This magic that sparked her soul to life was just a diluted form running through Katherine, just from one ghost.
She understood now why the Avery family siphoned an entire graveyard of dead witches. They sacrificed people andchanneled the energy from an immediate violent death. It was a high unlike any other.
It was so good it was dangerous.
Katherine’s green eyes flung open, the whites of them swirling with shadows. “Here,” she uttered before pulling Charlotte toward the open grimoire. “This spell will disable the power of anyone in the Avery bloodline.” She pointed at the sigils for each of the thirteen witch bloodlines and landed on theirs. “We will carve this symbol on the door they will enter through and infuse it with these spells.”
“You are layering spells,” Charlotte stated with admiration. “Sigils to hold the power, a spell to siphon the magic, and a spell to transfer it. It’s clever. Do you do that often?”
“I’ve always experimented with magic,” she deadpanned, her expression hardening.
“This power,” she said, changing the subject, “it is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s—”
“Terrifying?”
“Invigorating,” Charlotte confessed, her heart racing. It was only when she imagined the weeping woman’s soul that a twinge of guilt broke through the addicting high convulsing through her body. “What happened to the ghost? Did we hurt her?”
Katherine arched a blonde brow. “Hurt her? She doesn’t have a body.”
“She looked like she was in pain.”
“It’s all emotional. I assure you.”
“What is it we did to her exactly? I mean, what will become of her?”
“We siphoned her pain and anguish, that’s all. Her spirit will recover. What you’re feeling is her emotions converted into energy through our magic. The more violent the pain, the more potent the power. It is only temporary, of course. However, it will suffice so we can cast the disruption spell.” Katherine walked to the fireplace and held her fingers over the flames to chase away the leftover chill. “You did well. I’ve never gone into the Realm of the Dead before, but I suspected with you it would be easier.”
Charlotte’s brows knitted together. “What does that mean?”
“I was channeling you. Why do you think I needed to hold your hand? You’ve felt death. It lingers on you. I feel a darkness shrouding your aura. That’s how I could cross through the veil. I’m just amazed it worked.”
It seemed ridiculous to call what she’d done a violation, but it felt like it, nonetheless. “So my aura is damaged?”
Katherine glanced over her shoulder. “Tainted. You cannot break it. It’s not a physical thing.”
“I know that, and you know what I was insinuating,” she quipped, tired of the condescension in her tone that made her feel like a small child when they were the same age.
