Page 144 of The Dravenhearst Brides
“How far you’ve come, fledgling. How far you’ve proven you will go for us.” Babette prowled closer. “For your Dravenhearst sisters.”
Margot didn’t reply. She watched the faint rise and fall of Ruth’s chest. Her breaths were growing less frequent. Death was coming.
Babette was inches away now. She brushed her knuckles down Margot’s cheek. Instead of the usual chilling, phantom-like whisper, her touch was corporeal. Flesh meeting flesh, tinged with warmth.
Margot shuddered, recalling Ruth’s warning.“Spirits are never stronger in our natural world than at the places where they lost their lives.”
“There’s only one thing left,” Babette said, her full lips parting. She walked around Margot, dragging her fingers down and around her neck, pausing to whisper in her ear from behind. “You know what to do, Margot.”
Eleanor giggled and dropped to the floor, landing with a solid, squelchingthud. Fully human, the sound of that fall. No longer spirit, now flesh and blood, she crossed the floor and picked up the rope, the end sticky with Ruth’s growing puddle of blood.
“One of us,” Babette continued whispering, completing her circle. Her heels tapped on the wood floor, every step. She settled in front of Margot. “It’s what you’ve always wanted, to be wanted. Wewantyou, Margot.”
She couldn’t look away if she tried. Distantly, a ruckus rose beyond the walls of the rickhouse. A yipping. Very faint.
“Forever. With us.” Babette took the rope from Eleanor and handed it to Margot. She reached out, curling Margot’s fingers around it. “Once haunted, forever haunting.”
There was a beautiful symmetry in that. Margot looked toward the rafters, noose in hand. The noises outside grew louder.
“That’s it,” Babette encouraged. “You know what to do. You’ve dreamed of it. You belong to us, Margot. Belongwithus. With Elijah. He’s waiting, only a crossing away.”
Elijah.
A ripple passed through her, a sharp whip of pain. Her body was conditioned, so long a glutton for it.
But the pain was the place where healing began. The rope was in her hands, yes, but it was time to let go. Not hold on.
“No,” Margot said, raising her eyes to Babette’s.
“No?” Her beautiful face contorted into something ugly, something unforgiving.
“No.”
The door to the rickhouse ripped open, slammed with enough force to nearly tear it off its squealing hinges. Merrick skidded inside, revolver in hand, Beau howling at his heels.
“Margot,” he cried, gaze clocking the scene. Her wedding gown. Her grip on the noose. He raised a shaking hand. “No. Don’t. Please. I love you. I’m in love with you, Margot. Please don’t do this—”
“Do it!” Babette screeched, flying forward.
The gun fired.
Margot gasped and dropped the rope.
The bullet streamed by her, landing in the center of Babette’s chest. Directly over her heart. Blood bloomed, spreading in crimson rivulets down the bodice of her wedding gown.
Merrick fired the revolver again. A second bullet pierced Babette’s stomach. Then a third.
He can see her,Margot realized with shock. Finally. Here in the rickhouse.
Babette shrieked, looking at her son in disbelief.
“You’re not welcome in this home anymore,” he roared, the gun still raised. “I don’t know how to possibly make it more clear.”
“You can’t kill what’s already dead, son,” she replied. Blood trickled down her skirt.
“I can sure as hell try. Iwilltry, because you have no place in our lives.” He reached for Margot, dragging her to his chest. “Your power here, your power over me, is gone.”
Margot stared Babette down, tucked inside her son’s arms. Gently, very gently, because his fingers were shaking, Margot pried the revolver from Merrick’s grip. She pointed it at Ruth, who was lying a foot away, barely breathing.
