Page 35 of At Her Will

“No,” Witford said. “My aunt raised him with a simple, loving view of the world, a faith in its goodness. Which can lead him to trust those who are perhaps not trustworthy.”

His tone had built in volume, an orator used to being heard. But she wasn’t going to play this game, a passive aggressive attack veiled by false courtesy. “Please indicate the purpose of your visit, and dispense with the subtle digs.”

His face tightened, but he gave her a cold nod. “Fine. You are college-educated and wealthy. He doesn’t have a high school diploma, and lives paycheck to paycheck. His life is dedicated to his church. You are not a Christian. We see no good reason for you to be interested in him.”

“So you’re worried about his well-being.”

Tisha’s gaze rested on Vera’s pentacle with obvious distaste. “We have to look out for Rev. He’s God’s special gift to the world.”

“Then don’t you think God would look out for him?” Vera didn’t intend mockery, but since she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice, Tisha’s annoyed expression said she’d interpreted it that way.

“God works through others,” Witford said, touching his aunt’s arm, a counsel for restraint. “Like his family. What do you know of God, Miss Morgan?”

“As much as anyone,” Vera said evenly. “What I feel in my heart, the path I seek to be a good person, loving and helping others, it’s all connected to my spiritual path. Every faith worth something has that focus.”

“A witch can have the devil's silver tongue. I expect she can even quote scripture.” The gaze Tisha lifted to Vera held venom. “Yes, we know you practice witchcraft and worship Satan.”

Past and present slammed together like a car crash.If a choice comes before you, between God and family, God must prevail. If they will not hear the Word, shake the dust from your feet and leave them behind. Do not risk losing your faith and devotion to the Lord.

Her family had interpreted God’s word according to the church and preacher they followed, and acted upon it accordingly.

“Mother.” With the same mild warning in his tone, Witford let Vera know he’d preferred to keep the discussion on a different footing to achieve their objective.

“She said she wanted us to be direct,” Tisha said.

“I do. Though courtesy and respect would be appreciated as part of that.” A visceral reaction had gripped Vera, but she was getting a handle on it. Ignorance was the primary driver of hate and fear. And Wicca was not a conversion faith, but as a spiritual leader, just as Witford was, she had a duty to educate.

This is Rev’s family. Be patient.

“There is no devil in the Wiccan faith,” she told Tisha, including Witford in her glance. “There’s no need for one when humans are capable of evil all on their own. The guiding tenets of my faith are do no harm, and honor and revere all the life.”

Tisha sucked in a breath through her nose, her knuckles white on her purse straps. “You think you know him. You think you know everything, and judge my motives from a worldly view. He’s a simple soul with a pure heart. You will corrupt him and make his soul wither. My sister saw God in that boy, and told me to protect him, not how the world thinks I should, but how God wills it.”

Witford’s jaw was tight, but he’d laced his fingers against the vest of his well-cut suit as he let his mother have her say. “Is that it?” Vera asked her. “You’ve convinced yourself he’s an uneducated simpleton, a singing savant, to justify how you’re disrespecting him now?”

“You’re not hearing me,” Tisha snapped.

“Just because I don’t agree with you, doesn’t mean I don’t hear you.” Vera locked down any emotion that wouldn’t serve her and addressed Witford. “You’re the preacher, but you don’t feel God the way he does. That can breed resentment, can’t it?”

Witford’s face went cold and still. She saw it then, the sickness twisted by his ambitions. He wasn’t all the way lost, but darkness was around his heart.

Somewhere along the way, he'd probably rationalized it. Rev was able to feel such a deep connection to God because he didn’t have to worry about the realities of the world. His cousin would make the sacrifice and take care of those things, watch after him. Even as he also reaped the benefits of that connection.

"He loves that job at the school, you know,” Witford said. “It would be difficult for him to keep it, if parents found out he was involved with someone like you.”

“New Orleans is home to a lot of faiths, including voodoo. I don’t think?—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I didn’t come here unprepared, Miss Morgan. I’m aware of the rumors about you and the other women who run this place. The deviant lifestyleyou pursue. The school would let him go to protect the students. After all, at the end of the day, he’s just a janitor.”

Boy, you just barked up the wrong tree.

If she’d had any doubt about where her feelings for Rev were at this point in their relationship, a territorial surge drowned that doubt, never to be heard from again. He was hers, to care for and protect.

Vera turned her laptop toward Witford, showing him the red button glowing at the bottom. “That’s a recording app. It’s useful for remembering meeting and interview details. Or for things like this.”

“You’re not supposed to record someone without their permission. I was a lawyer, before the Lord called me to His path.”

“You’re way the hell off of it, if you’re here doing this to your cousin.”

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