Page 26 of Bewitched By the Headless Horseman
Stevie wondered how Kit was murdered—his head had to have been cut off somehow. But why? Or was his murder random? She ran a hand across her throat, hoping to never uncover the secret of what a blade through her neck felt like.
Once she turned into her driveway, Kit was already off Inferno, brushing his hand down the stallion’s back. The horse then took off like lightning, and his hooves pounded down the street.
Kit tugged at the top of his glove. “Inferno has always preferred the woods. But more so now after seeing what the town has become. He finds it too chaotic here.”
It was much quieter back then for sure. No loud car engines, no pollution. “Sometimes the world is pandemonium for me too, and I was born in a chaotic time.” She laughed softly.
As Stevie unlocked the front door, Kit slipped through the wall. Roxy barked a shrill greeting and launched herself toward them, her tail wagging when she peered up at Kit. He didn’t kneel to pet her, only stood with rigid shoulders.
“You know you can pet her,” Stevie drawled, motioning him forward. “That’s what she wants. I mean, it’s not mandatory, but she would like it if you did. She did search for you too, after all.”
“It’s not proper etiquette to pet someone’s familiar unless the owner allows it. But since you don’t mind.” Kit knelt in a robotic manner as if he hadn’t touched any other undead souls besides Inferno. Which if she were to wager it, she bet he’d only put his hands on the heads of ghosts he’d taken. “Hello … Roxy. You’re a … fox.” He stroked her back, his shoulders relaxing as he petted her. The fox released a satisfied purr and rolled to her back, pawing at the air.
“Roxy appreciates it very much. Now come on, you have a story to tell,seer.” Stevie sank down on the couch and patted the spot beside her. “Make yourself at home and remove your sword if you want. That thing looks uncomfortable.”
“If you insist.” Kit placed his sword on the coffee table, then unfastened his cape and rested the fabric on the couch. He leaned back beside her, his legs spreading apart. Her gaze lingered a little too long on his strong thighs before she tore her gaze away.
“So,” Stevie started, “first things first. Did you lie about not being able to see the living before the Eye opened? Not that it matters, I guess, if you could’ve.” She’d also been a stranger to him—but still, he’d known she was a seer so he could’ve spilled the beans instead of held onto them.
The cushions shifted as he turned toward her. “Yes, Pumpkin, I’m a Seer. Yet after I was murdered, my ability died with me. Once I accepted my first head, I still couldn’t see the living since the eyes didn’t truly belong to me.”
“Inferno comes to you though.” Stevie bit her lip. “I always assumed a seer and their sidekick are linked through their sight, so wouldn’t the link have been broken?” Not that she was an expert on that though since her eyes were still in their sockets.
“No, a fortune-telling witch once told me that even if one’s eyes from the living were removed, the link would remain,regardless if they couldn’t see the dead,” Kit said. “Or in my case, the living.”
“What else happened in your past?” Her voice came out gentle, knowing that talking about his own murder wouldn’t be something to cheer about.
“All right.” Kit heaved a sigh. “The tale began with me venturing to Sleepy Hollow, which as you most likely know wasn’t called that in those days. Before that, I crossed paths with a witch and discovered what I was. She told me there was a town that accepted individuals who held special abilities, oddities to outsiders. Back then, it was easy to get hanged, or much worse, if one was discovered to be ‘abnormal.’”
“Like the Salem Witch Trials.” Stevie nodded. “Got it.” The council liked to sometimes remind the town of what could happen if they were discovered, and Salem was usually the go-to since the paranormal had flocked away from there years ago to start the new town in New York, a place where their secret would be embraced.
“The first person I met after discussing my situation with the council was a beautiful witch,” Kit continued. “Her name was Clara, and I easily fell for her. Like you to Lucia, I became her assistant and worked at her apothecary. But mostly I took care of the stables where she kept the animals for her spells. I knew the instant I saw her that I loved her. The way she would look at me with her bright doe eyes, how she would brush her fingers across mine, lingering—I thought she returned the sentiment. So I penned her a letter, confessing my love to her. A jealous warlock named Levi discovered the letter, and that was the nail in the coffin. Or at least the ridding me of my head.”
“So he murdered you over it?” Stevie exclaimed. “I hope he was caught and burned at the stake.”
Kit laughed darkly. “If only. I know, as much as I know the heart I once had, that he hid my head and spelled it so I wouldnever find it. After he had me strung up in the woods with rope, he brought an axe to my throat. But just before that, he told me that once both Eyes were open during a new moon, I would be sent to the flaming pits of the Hollow where I would spend all eternity after the Eyes shut.”
Stevie’s stomach dropped, becoming hollow itself. “So that’s why you said you only had until the next new moon,” she murmured.
“Mm-hmm.” Kit hunched forward, his elbows on his knees.
“I mean, you could’ve said that things were on a vicious countdown andimportant,” Stevie said, incredulous.
“I did say time was of the essence, Pumpkin.” She could hear in his voice that he was rolling his eyes.
“There’s a big difference between saying something is of the essence, which could be anything, by the way, and that you’ll go to the Hollow and burn for eternity if we fail!” she hissed. “And if you go down there, you know you won’t just burn! The demons there will break you apart over and over. It’ll be a good ol’ torturous party for them.”
“Emphasize your view a bit more,” Kit said sarcastically. “I’ve only had centuries now to imagine it.”
Stevie furrowed her brow, thinking about how she could flip this around. “I’m going to talk to Lucia.” She left Kit on the couch and ran out into the cool night air, banging on her sister-in-law’s door.
Lucia drew it open, dressed in pajamas printed with tiny pink cauldrons, a yawn slipping from her mouth. “How was the date? You’re back earlier than I thought.”
“What date?” Kit asked as he stepped behind Lucia, his ethereal glow lighting up the dim hallway.
“I said stop doing that,” Stevie groaned.
“You said to stop coming up behind you. This isn’t behind you,” he pointed out.
