I'm True To Myself

Cleaning bloodstains from hardwood might be easier when the blood is fresh. Dried as it was, I had to mop it up in layers. I used an old string mop I found in the broom closet and watched it taint the clear water in my bucket with every swipe. When I was done, I flushed the blood and water down the toilet and threw away the mop.

I collected all of the skulls into a large black garbage bag and left them on the side of the porch. I thought about walking down to tell Rick they were there but decided against it. He was a grown man. He could take care of his own skulls. Plus, I wasn't ready to talk to him again. Whenever I was within three feet of him, my feelings became a confused mishmash of past life memories, uncontrollable lust, and his personal hang-ups pouring through our metaphysical connection. And let's not forget the thick layer of jealousy Rick had added over the Logan situation. I needed space and time to sort out my feelings.

With my foyer back to normal, I microwaved some water and mixed in hot cocoa from a packet. It was a far cry from the scratch kind Logan used to make for me. I sat on my stoop, sipping the unpalatable concoction and tried to sort out the tangled mess of emotions inside my head.

I missed Logan.

I'd promised to help him through his recovery, and I intended to follow through. But what would happen when he was better? Could I honestly dismiss him from my life? We'd shared a deep connection, friendship for sure and more. How would our relationship change now that he didn't live in my attic? Would friendship even be possible when I could still feel the way he'd slid under my skin? I wasn't sure. And what did that mean for my relationship with Rick?

Rick was my...what? Boyfriend wasn't strong enough, but I wasn't married to him. I wasn't sure exactly where that left us. I did love him. At least, I thought I did, but it was hard to sort out which feelings were his and which were mine. What did love mean, anyway? One thing was for sure: I needed him. If I was going to fend off Mr. Helleborine from my house and keep Julius and his quickly expanding coven in check, I required Rick and his beast. Beyond the help he would give me to understand my power, his muscle and the strength his blood gave me were essential to my survival. Love or not, we were connected in a symbiotic dance of magic and wills.

Which made me think how little I understood about all of this. I wished there were more witches like me--a mentor who could take Prudence's place. On some fundamental and cosmic level, I trusted Rick, more than I'd ever trusted Gary or anyone else besides my father. But trusting someone didn't mean I had to hand over the reins of my life to him. I had to learn The Book of Light. It was my sole objective source of information about who I was and what I could do.

As I watched the sunset, the sky painting itself in pinks and purples, I came to terms with reality. I couldn't control who I was before, or the challenges hidden in my future. All I could control was today. Today-well, tonight-I was going to begin reading the Book of Light. I was going to start to plan how Rick and I would stop Julius. And I was going to find a way to buy this house from my father. Because if one thing was for certain, my attic did not belong in the hands of someone else.

The rumble of a heavy vehicle on imperfect pavement drew my eye toward the road. A FedEx truck navigated my driveway, parking only halfway up. The driver jumped out, retrieved a package from the back, and headed toward me.

"Delivery for Grateful Knight."

"I'm Grateful," I said, accepting the signature pad from him.

"That's an unusual name, Grateful Knight."

"Well, I'm an unusual girl." I handed him back the signed form.

The man eyed my house and the deep, dark woods across the street. "Almost didn't find the place. GPS in the truck doesn't have you on the map. What's a young woman like yourself doing living all the way out here in the boonies, anyway?" He said the words through a playful smile.

I accepted the box, which was heavier than I expected, before I answered him. "This is home."

He grabbed the bill of his cap and gave me a little nod before retreating to his truck.

I juggled the door open as the last rays of light sunk behind the tree line, realizing this would be the first night I would spend in this house alone. Prudence and Logan were gone, and although a soul could visit my attic at any time, so far tonight there was no one. Considering Logan had been the first in two years, I supposed I'd better get used to being alone. And maybe that was for the best. I needed to know more about who I was to be ready for something more.

Kicking the door closed behind me, I placed the package on my kitchen counter and dug in my junk drawer for scissors. I cut the tape holding the box together, exposing another box, gift wrapped. Someone had sent me a present! A card taped to the side had my name on it. I tore into the envelope to find a picture of a puppy lying on his back in a gigantic bowl of food. Inside the card was blank except for a hand written note: An early birthday present. Thought you could use this. Happy Birthday. Love you, Dad.

Under the paper was a new MacBook Pro. Aww, Dad. My birthday wasn't for another month. He must've seen my cracked screen when he was over for dinner. I whipped out my phone and texted him a quick pre-thank-you-card thank you. He had no idea what this meant to me.

I lifted the box and headed for the attic. The key turned easily in the lock, and I walked into the light, using my magic to change the layout to my needs. Today I conjured a desk in front of the Book of Light and placed the laptop on it. I'd buy a real desk as soon as I could afford one, so that it would be here during the day. Entering my spells into a database would be a great way to learn them, not to mention find them quickly. I even had a database app on my phone I thought might come in handy on the run.

Judging by the size of the tome, learning my own magic could take a lifetime. Of course, Prudence had said I'd live longer than most. My stomach twisted, thinking about the practicalities of not growing older, having the world continue on without me, watching everyone I know die. Rick said he was sterile. I'd never have children. I shook my head. I wasn't ready to go there.

A growl outside brought me to the back window overlooking the cemetery. The scales of Rick's beast glinted from between the headstones. I smiled, reaching for Nightshade.

Love was scary. It made you vulnerable. I couldn't trust my romantic feelings for Rick yet, but I could trust he would do his part as my Caretaker, no matter what.

I had come to this house wanting to stand on my own two feet, to grow into the responsible adult I knew I was and take back control of my life. I'd blamed myself for what happened with Gary and felt inadequate and naive. But I'd come a long way. I was stronger, levelheaded. I'd killed. I'd taken risks and succeeded for my cause. And I would accept what life and fate had in store for me. I might have surrendered myself to Rick and to the role of witch, but somehow I felt like I'd finally come into my own skin.

I was Hecate. I was the Monk's Hill witch.