Bad Blood Page 17

  “I don’t think it’s that exactly….They don’t want to harm me,” I say, feeling foolish. I’m battered but not broken. I try to explain. “They hate each other. So much. I’m just in the cross fire. I can hear them both…feel them both. They’ve been fighting for so long, and they each want to win.”

  Ruth is watching me. “Win what?”

  “They see me—all the MacNair girls, really—as a prize to be won.”

  Sheena nods. “I’m glad Abbie avoided all this. It’s not often a MacNair is born with no talent for magic.”

  “We should have told her anyway,” Ruth cuts in. “We shouldnae have left her ignorant. Now Anne MacNair is too far gone and it’s just been us for years.” Again she looks at me, assessing me. “We need new blood.”

  “Anne wanted it that way,” Sheena snaps. “We arenae here to strengthen our coven, we’re here to help Heather.”

  Before Ruth can respond, a phone rings, and Fiona’s mom pulls out her cell while Ruth shoots her a dirty look.

  “I am not going to ignore a call that might have something to do with my daughter,” she says, answering the phone while Ruth looks incredibly annoyed and Sheena looks slightly embarrassed.

  “Oh, thank you,” Mrs. Darrow breathes into her phone. “Fiona, I’m so sorry I’m not there. Robby came and got me…” She pauses. “He said what?” She listens for a bit, then walks over and hands me the phone. “My daughter insists on speaking with you.”

  I shakily take the phone from her hands. “Fiona?” I say her name hesitantly, almost afraid it’s not really her. But the voice that comes through is most definitely Fiona’s.

  “Oh, bloody hell, Heather. What am I doing in hospital?”

  I let out a sob, full of relief and guilt. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “Oh, dinnae be so dramatic. You didnae exactly twist my arm. I volunteered.”

  “But I didn’t stop it when I felt you were getting hurt….”

  “Look, I know my mum is on the warpath right now, and Robby told me that you’re a total mess about this, but I dinnae blame you.”

  “Thank you,” I say, though I don’t feel any better.

  “I’m not dead, and that’s the main thing. And I basically have a sympathy card to play for the rest of the summer. Plus I get a hot boy spending the night with me.” I hear Robby laugh in the background. “And I’m going to call Felipe, so I’ll have two hot boys….Hmmm, whatever will we do?” Her voice is weak, but her tone is as cheeky as ever.

  “You don’t hate me?” I ask.

  “Dinnae be stupid,” she says. “Let me talk to my mum.” Her voice is small, and I can hear how tired she really is.

  I hand the phone back over, a weight lifted from my chest. If only Primrose and Prudence could forgive each other.

  “I need to speak with them,” I say.

  “The ghosts?” Ruth asks. She glances around the group, nodding as if to say I told you so.

  “Yes. Can’t we do a séance or something?”

  “This isnae a movie, Heather,” Sheena says. “Those girls had great power in life, and they have great power in death. They reach you through that power, but for you to contact them…” She stops.

  “I’ve communed with the spirit world,” Ruth says quietly, her voice traveling through the room like a current of air through a graveyard.

  “How?” I ask.

  Janet places her hand on my shoulder. I know she hasn’t forgiven me, but with Fiona on the mend, she’s at least stifled her hostilities. “This is what your gram warned you about. The danger. Because the only way for you to talk to the dead is to be dead.”

  “If that’s true, how did you do it?” I ask Ruth.

  “My coven killed me,” she tells me, staring at me with those cold, icy blue eyes. “They kept my body on the edge of life. Then they brought me back.”

  “We almost lost you,” Sheena says. “We also had Anne then. She was the most powerful of us all.”

  “I don’t care about the risks. I want to do it,” I tell them. “I need to do it.”

  “Love, you told me your grandmother had these visions…these dreams, but they stopped when she was seventeen. That’s not too far off. Why not just wait?” Sheena asks.

  “They’re driving me to the edge,” I tell them. “I’ll either end up dead or in an institution. And even if I get past this, like Gram did, what do I have to look forward to?”

  Sheena looks unconvinced. “You’re a mother,” I tell her. “How can I let my children inherit this curse? How could I ever be happy knowing that one day my daughter or my granddaughter will be tortured by this?”

  “And if you die for good?” Sheena asks. “How am I to explain that to your aunt, to your family? How am I to live with that on my conscience?”

  “Then don’t let me die,” I say. Surprisingly, my voice doesn’t shake. I don’t want to die, even temporarily, and this whole plan sounds insane, but no less so than living like I have been.

  “It willnae be pleasant, Heather,” Mrs. Darrow says. “You’re a Blood Witch now, so it’s the water for you. You have to drown. We’ll pump your chest and try to breathe life back into your body, but there’s no guarantee.”

  “Why did you do it?” I ask Ruth.

  “My daughter died in a car accident when she was five.” Ruth’s hard exterior cracks and I see the pain in her watery eyes. “Her father died too. I had to put her soul to rest.”

  “Then you understand,” I whisper.

  “Aye. But when I saw her, she was mangled. Alone and terrified. I was drawn to that place, wanted to stay there with her. I almost didnae make it back. Death is not an easy thing to overcome.”

  “You’re not going to scare me out of this,” I tell her, swallowing my concerns past the lump in my throat.

  Ruth stares at me a while longer. “We have to let the girl decide,” she declares. “It’s her life. It’s her choice. And she’ll need us all to bring her back.”

  Janet looks me over. “Fiona will kill you if you die.”

  “I know,” I say, letting out a small, scared laugh. She leans in and hugs me. “I am sorry for what I dragged her into.”

  She wipes the tears from my eyes. “I wanted her to be free of all of this and was relieved when she didnae show a talent for healing. I never thought she’d find out about Blood Magic.”

  She holds my shoulders, and we all look to Sheena. Her eyes are closed, and for a moment I think she will object, but when she opens them there’s purpose in her gaze.

  “Okay, then. Let’s prepare.”

  I SIT NAKED in a bathtub filled with lukewarm water. Herbs float on the surface—cinnamon sticks and basil, turmeric and arrowroot and garlic—as if I’m part of a stew. The coven surround me, Janet and Ruth on either side and Sheena at my head.

  This should be beyond awkward, but I’m too scared to feel anything else.

  “Are you ready?” Sheena asks.

  I try to sound confident. “Yes.”

  “Truly?” Sheena wants me to be sure.

  “It’s the girl’s choice,” Ruth says once again.

  “I’m ready,” I tell them.

  I lean back. Three pairs of strong hands gently push me down and hold me there. Ruth and Janet pin my arms, and Sheena holds down my forehead. At first I am unafraid; the water feels warm and comforting, like a liquid reprieve from reality. But it doesn’t take long for me to feel uncomfortable. My lungs burn, eager for air. Still I hold my breath.

  Then the panic sets in.

  I’ve died twice already, by burning and by strangulation. But those were dream deaths. Secondhand experiences.

  This death is real. This death is mine.

  I try to flail my arms, try to break free, but the women have me held secure. There are three of them and one of me, and I feel weak and alone. Even kicking does nothing. I know I must die, but I fight for life.

  What have I done? What if this doesn’t work? I’ve placed my life in the h
ands of these women, one of whom I just met and two of whom have lied to me my whole life. I want to signal that I’ve changed my mind, but there is no way to let them know. I let out the last of the air in my lungs, the bubbles releasing in a silent, watery scream.

  Finally, I can no longer control my lungs and I involuntarily take a breath of liquid.

  It feels like I have inhaled molten lava, and my whole body fights against the wrongness of it. The water is forced out, but with the next intake it seems less hurtful, more…almost normal. That water I leave in my lungs. There is no point in expelling it. It is now a part of me. I no longer need air.

  I am dead.

  EVERYWHERE THERE IS haze, but I am walking, so there must be ground beneath my feet. Yes, I can smell it: the earthy peat and the crisp air, the soft scents of the Highlands.

  The mist begins to clear and I see the landscape now, rolling hills covered in beautiful purple heather. The sky is so blue.

  “I was happiest here,” someone says over my shoulder. I spin and find Primrose watching me. Her skin is burned black, charred and cracking. There is no hair on her head, there are no eyes in her sockets. She is a husk.

  I take a step back. Ruth warned me, but I didn’t understand. I make myself look at the scorched figure. “I saw. You and Prudence…”

  “Do not say her name,” she warns. Her mouth forms the words through blistered lips. Her voice is surprisingly strong. “She betrayed me.”

  “She did. But…” The landscape stays the same as laughter breaks through the silence. Two identical girls chase each other, squealing gleefully at their game.

  “She took my life,” Primrose says darkly. The girls disappear. We are no longer in the Highlands, but in a narrow alley in Edinburgh. “She took away the earth and the sky and instead gave me a stone cage.”

  “It was Father who moved us to the city.” Prudence appears next to Primrose. She speaks to me, not to her sister. Her neck is bent at a strange angle; angry red handprints encircle her throat. Her eyes are bloodshot and bulge from her skull. “I told him what our mother was doing. It was a mistake, a child’s folly. I didnae know he would take her life.”

  “Did she no’ ken the bishop would take mine?” Though they stand side by side, they address only me. “Was that no’ the plan? To steal my life and my happiness?”

  Even through their injuries, I can see that they have identical looks of anger on their faces, identical looks of hatred. “Was I no’ allowed happiness as well?” Prudence shouts. “She would have eloped, left me alone with our beast of a father, left me…” Her voice quiets. “…left me.”

  “My life was moving onward, and Prudence wished for it to stay still.”

  Prudence wheels on her, looks at her for the first time. “Did you ask me? Did you consult with me? No, you had no’ a care for me, so why should I have a care for you? You deserved what fate you received.”

  “As did you,” Primrose shouts back. “You thought to steal my man, to have the life that I wanted. Well, I whispered in Jonas’s ear, and he was only too happy to take your life in return.”

  “There was a baby,” I cut in, and the girls’ attention snaps back to me, each looking surprised that I am here. I try to channel Dr. Casella, use all the therapy sessions I’ve attended. “Prudence had a baby with the man you loved,” I tell Primrose. “And that child eventually had a child, and on and on, until there was me. Do you want to torture us all?”

  “I care not for the well-being of her progeny,” Primrose spits.

  “But what about Jonas? What about the love you shared?” I ask. She glowers. “You were willing to care for Prudence’s child as your own because it had a part of Jonas as well.”

  “She would have taken my child,” Prudence says as she rubs the welts on her neck. “She would have stolen my babe from me and left me with nothing.”

  “And that’s why you fight over us?” I ask them. “You fight for control over the lives of any MacNair girl left. Why only the girls?”

  “Not all can see us,” Primrose says. “Only women have the talent, and only those with magic in their blood. I wanted Jonas’s child. We were meant to have a family together.” She no longer sounds so angry, and I notice she looks at me through fully formed eyes, not just dark sockets. She now has random patches of light blond hair on her head. Am I winning her over?

  “And you,” I tell Prudence. “Didn’t you feel any love toward your child?”

  “Of course, but Father took her from my breast. He called me unfit, and worse besides. He left me and took away the babe.” Her anger is deflated now. “I thought if I was married and respectable I could have her back….”

  “Life is unfair.” They stare at me blankly. “So is death. Your anger is ruining the lives of generations of women. I cut myself. I nearly killed my best friend. I might be locked up in an institution.” I can tell I’m getting through to them. Prudence’s neck looks straighter and Primrose is no longer charred; her skin is red and looks scalded instead. “You are both ruining my life!” I yell.

  “As she destroyed mine,” Primrose says.

  “And she, mine,” Prudence echoes.

  They look physically identical now, but I can see that Primrose has a wild aura about her, while Prudence seems shrewder. Why can’t they see how alike they are?

  I think of Fiona, and it comes to me suddenly.

  I step forward and place a hand on each of their shoulders. I look Prudence in the eyes. “You’ve tortured me and made my life a living hell, but I forgive you, for all you have done and all you have made me do and even the stuff that I think is your fault but isn’t.” I look into Primrose’s eyes and say the same thing.

  “You offer your forgiveness as if it is nothing,” Prudence says.

  “It should not be so freely given,” Primrose chimes in. At least they finally agree on something.

  “Not as if it is nothing, as if it is everything,” I tell them. I am starting to get a strange feeling in my chest, and I realize it’s because up until now there has been no feeling in my chest at all.

  “Please,” I beg. “Remember…” We are back in the Highlands. Two children play in the distance. “Please, forgive each other and move on. Stop torturing yourselves.”

  I am pulled into the sky through a black tornado.

  I PUKE UP water and suck in air, but it is not enough. My lungs burn and my whole body aches. I cough up more water and gasp. Someone is rubbing my back.

  “I’m okay,” I sputter. At least, I think I am. Sheena drapes a towel over me and I wrap it around myself, shivering.

  They bring me hot tea and a change of clothes. I tell them I don’t know if it worked, if it was all worth it. I hope the sisters can forgive each other and move on, and leave my family in peace.

  I rest on the couch for a long while before I go home. If my aunt hasn’t woken yet, she will soon. With each passing moment I feel lighter, as if a weight has been lifted.

  “I think they’re gone,” I tell Sheena before I leave. I can’t put into words the strange emptiness I feel.

  She hugs me. “I hope so, love.”

  Janet drops me off on her way back to the hospital and asks me a million questions about the afterlife and what I saw. To be honest, I don’t remember much. Only children laughing and my desperate plea.

  I let myself into the apartment. I must not have locked the door when I sleepwalked up to Arthur’s Seat, because the door is wide open. I go inside, hoping to go straight to my aunt’s room and curl up next to her in bed, but instead I find my mother and father sitting in the kitchen. They look up at me when I walk through the door, their faces set and angry.

  I am so busted.

  “It was my idea,” I tell them. We’re at the kitchen table; I sit with my arms crossed. “I’ll go back to the Wellness Center, or wherever you want me to go….”

  My mom’s face tightens. She takes a deep breath. I know she’s trying to calm down. “I’m sorry we didn’t discuss the hospital with
you. We would have told you.”

  “After you had me committed?” I mutter, not really angry. She just wants a normal, healthy daughter.

  “It was never set in stone. I just wanted to find out about alternative treatment options.” She takes another deep breath. “It’s not easy, watching you suffer like this,” she says quietly. “I just wish I could help you.”

  “The pills Dr. Casella gave me are actually helping a lot.”

  “You mean the ones on your dresser? The full bottle? The ones you clearly are not taking on a regular basis?”

  Busted again.

  “And this thing with Fiona…” She shakes her head. She doesn’t know what to make of it.

  “Are we going back to Chicago?” I ask. I glance at my dad. He still hasn’t said anything. He just looks shocked, staring at the bandage on my arm.

  That look kills me.

  “I don’t know what to do,” my mother says.

  How do I convince them I’m better? If I tell them the truth, that our family was haunted by witches and I’ve broken the curse, I’ll definitely be locked away.

  “I’ll do whatever you want,” I tell them. “I won’t be any more trouble. I’m sorry. Don’t blame Aunt Abbie. Please.”

  My father speaks up at last. “She’s an evil genius. Getting cancer so no one can stay mad at her.” It takes me a moment to realize he’s joking.

  I give him a half smile, which quickly drops. It’s hard to find humor in Aunt Abbie’s cancer.

  “You’ll have to earn back our trust,” my mother tells me.

  “I know.”

  “We’re going to up your therapy to three times a week. Dr. Casella will be available on Skype.”

  “So we’re staying?” I ask.

  “We’ll stay out here with you for a couple of weeks, then all go back together. I think our being here will be better for you.”

  I turn to my father but can’t meet his gaze. “Sorry, Dad…” Before I know what’s happening, he’s out of his chair and reaching for me, grabbing me into a big hug.