Page 150 of Demise

“Are you all staying the night?” she asks.

I nod. “Just tonight. Some of us have to return to Salem in the morning.”

She looks disappointed by that, but she nods nonetheless.

“Where one goes, you all go?” she guesses.

I smile and shrug.

“Good. That’s the best way to keep you safe,” she says as she cups my cheek. “C’mon, I’ll show you all around.”

My mom’s arm loops through mine as she begins walking us through the grounds, introducing me to anyone and everyone she possibly can. She also introduces the guys as mine. Not my boyfriends, not my friends. Just that, “This is my daughter, and these men are hers.”

I kinda like it.

She points out the community garden, the little schoolhouse and all of the communal areas like sitting areas, fire pits and walking trails leading into the forest.

“So, are the rumors true?” I ask. “Are you a witch?”

We climb the short steps up to a cottage and my mother shakes her head from side to side like she’s contemplating how to answer.

“Yes and no. The rumors you’re no doubt referring to are false for that time of my life, but after living here for over sixteen years, I’ve adapted practices, yes.”

“This is your Coven?” Ronan asks.

She turns to look at him and smiles.

“This is my family.”

Pushing the door open, she pauses, turning to me.

“There is someone who couldn’t wait a second longer to meet you.”

This puts all the guys on edge, and I feel them practically surround me.

“Jonathan?” my mom calls out in the house.

A tall man, at least six foot five, steps around the corner of the cottage, his feet freezing when he sees us all on the front porch. He has green eyes, darker than mine or my mother’s, with black hair that has been pulled into a man bun and a trimmed beard. There is a touch of grey encroaching in to show his age, but it’s the kind smile that spreads across his face that helps put me at ease.

His eyes move from me to my mom before settling back on me. My heart is pounding in my chest, my breaths quickening as we just stare at one another. Something inside me knows exactly who he is immediately. Maybe he feels the same way too, because he practically sprints to me.

His arms wrap me up, lifting me into the air and spinning me in a circle. I wrap my arms around his neck as I hold on tightly, and he speaks into my shoulder. I can’t quite hear him, but when he sets me down and looks at me, he repeats himself.

“Skyla,” he rasps. “Is it really you?”

I smile softly and shrug my shoulders.

“Is it really you? Are you—”

“Your father,” my mom interrupts. “Yes.”

He smiles down at me before realizing we have an audience. He doesn’t look surprised. No doubt my mom has already told him how their daughter grew up to be a trollop. No, I’m sure that’s not what the conversation was. She’s seemed quite accepting thus far.

“Jonathan Proctor,” he says with his hand extended to Liam.

He smiles and takes it, shaking as he speaks.

“Liam Walcott.”

---