Page 31 of The Child of Rue Royale
“Is he dead?” Cora interrupted, pointing to the man on the ground.
“Only sleeping,” Bastian said, trying to keep a straight face. And he pressed his pointer finger to his mouth, making a shushing sound.
“He’s not dead…yet, I can assure you.” I hated the need to explain myself to a child, but she was a witch first. Always a witch first.
She kept moving closer and closer, Cora Wildes, not more than twelve, in a light blue cotton dress and red Mary Janes that kept creeping to Bastian until she was looking up at him.
I flung his arm across my shoulder, the only way I could keep his feet under him. Carrying him like a baby would look too suspicious. I always had to downplay my strength.
“Bastian Delacroix?” she asked, head tilting as if information were being dumped into her ear. She pointed up to him, tapping him on the nose.
“Don’t touch him,” I ordered. “Get back.” She ignored me, staring so intensely that I considered dropping him to the ground to push her away. Bastian didn’t realize how dangerous this child was, how dangerous she could be.
“Cora, I apologize for how rude my brother is,” Bastian tittered, and Cora giggled.
“Bastian, shut up!” I yelled. I needed to get the cream onto the man on the ground, but I also needed to get Bastian out of there.
Cora froze as she stared Bastian up and down. Stared like he was Jesus Christ himself. It was like she left the planet in those few seconds, then her face was somber like she was going to burst into tears. Her little cherub mouth opened, and she whispered the strangest sentence.
“There’s something here that will change everything.” She sighed as if she were excited at the possibilities. “You will change everything.” Her face was so full of wonder that Bastian placed a hand over his blood-drunk heart.
“I will?” he asked, his marble face so sincere. He contemplated this for a moment and closed one eye as if looking through the barrel of a gun. “I will!” he suddenly agreed, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
“Thank you, Cora,” he said, trying to stumble toward her, but I held him back.
“It must unfold just as it should. I cannot meddle or get involved. But both of our futures are in its path. Breaking generational curses…I can’t see it clearly, but that’s what you must do. A child will need you. The most unexpected child. He will see.”
“That’s beautiful,” Bastian said as the man on the ground groaned, coming to, and I knew time was running out. “See what?”
“What a lovely prophecy, Cora. Very sweet. Now leave us. Goodbye.” My thoughts suddenly became a task list. Set Bastian down. Put the cream on the man’s neck. Hope he wasn’t dying. Pick up Bastian. Try to get rid of the girl. Get us both home.
The man on the groundbegan to shuffle, making the cream application more imperative. I had to make a choice. I set Bastian against the wall as best I could, and he held himself up for the most part. Cora stared at him as though two hearts were forming in her eyes. I turned for a moment, only a moment, to put the cream her mother had supplied on the man’s bite marks. He would survive, just needed to rest, and once the bite marks disappeared, all would be well.
Finishing, I stood back up to find Cora whispering in Bastian’s ear. Too close.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, anger simmering in my bones. I studied Bastian to ensure no spell had been placed on him.
Cora stepped back, and Bastian squinted at her, eyes sincere.
“I am not a sweet witch. I’m a seeing witch.” She chortled and turned around. “Like I said, I can’t see it clearly, but he’s the change. He’s the way out. Don’t mess it all up, Cassius Delacroix. I know how you can’t help yourself.”
My nostrils flared, my teeth ground against each other, and my fangs fell from my gums. Witches were the devil.
Back home, Bastian didn’t attempt to hide his anger with me. The alcohol still bloomed in his blood, his kind demeanor always simmering at the surface.
“How can you be rude to a child, Caz? She’s a child.”
“She’s a witch, first and foremost. You cannot ever forget that, Bastian. We have an agreement with them, but we cannot be friends. They have hated us for generations and look down upon us as if we are vile heathens. They would eradicate us from the planet if they could. And that little Cora, she’s a sassy one. Don’t be fooled.”
“Be fooled by whom?” Nicola asked as she entered the room.
“A tiny little witch,” Bastian informed her. I would’ve rather Nicola not know about the rendezvous with Cora because I was the one to blame for letting Bastian out of my sight.
“It’s nothing of importance,” I said, but she sat down, crossing her long legs as if settling in for the story. So I told her I lost Bastian for a mere five minutes, ignoring her look of disapproval because I knew who would be chastised at the end, and it wasn’t going to be me. As for the strange words Cora said, I left them out. I pretended they were never uttered because I didn’t want Bastian nor Nicola reading too far into it. Our relationship with the witches was precarious enough already.
“Your loyalties are with us and only us. I know it takes some getting used to. But there’s a reason they have cursed blood, Bastian. They are a threat to us as we are to them. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Bastian said looking between our mother and me. “She just looked like a nice kid.” He spun the ring on his finger. He was stubborn most of the time, but he appeared tired and had no fight left in him.
