The Scratch Daughters by H.A. Clarke

Author:H.A. Clarke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Erewhon

✴TWELVE✴

RAPUNZEL LET ME DOWN

Caleb sat at the foot of my bed. He listened without comment, didn’t so much as nod between story events. He sat and listened to me talk about meeting up with Jing, about Sheridan’s father, about the boys in the alleyway. The only thing about him that moved were his toesies in his socks. They had a flamingo pattern.

I rubbed my nose with my wrist when I was finished. Nudged him with my foot.

He glanced at me.

“Speak, jackass.”

Caleb took a breath. “About what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking. Process out loud.”

“Your coven mate is right.” Caleb pulled a knee to his chest. “Hex me.”

“Yeah?” I hugged my arms over my chest.

“I was texting you earlier today to tell you that my parents will be out of the house this Friday night. We could look for Madeline’s specter there without having to worry about running into them. We could give Addie her soul back, and then you could get yours, too.” He swallowed. “I bet the ones I’ve helped get are in there, too. The witches I helped hunt. Maybe they could be returned. Amends made.”

That’s assuming they survived your violence, Mr. Scratch sneered inside me.

“I want you to trust me.” He traced the edge of his flamingoes with a nail. “The hex only attacks you if you’ve got bad intentions, yes? I want to prove that I’ve got good ones, and if I fuck up and think something disgusting, I don’t mind a little shock collar action. I welcome it.”

I breathed in hard through my nose, out through my teeth. “Sixth Chett hex today,” I said. “Okay.”

Caleb flopped backwards. He covered his eyes with his hands and lay there like a vampire.

“What are you doing?” I cocked a brow.

“Succumbing.”

“I need a poppet first. Chill.” I leaned back on my pillows and stared at my ceiling, tried not to focus on the pinup poster I’d taped up there at some point. Model looked awfully nice in that tiny little string bikini. “How many souls are just in your fucking house?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like we have a display case,” he said. He didn’t move his hands. “I don’t think there are all that many. My dad works too much to take us hunting. It’s our cousins, mostly. Other witchfinder families, who might as well be cousins. The Brethren network.”

“I want to butcher all your cousins.”

He nodded.

I snatched up a shitty Halloween store witch figurine—I collect them, fucking sue me—off my bedside table, along with a Sharpie I used to deface various stolen magazines. I popped the cap. The smell sizzled through the room.

Caleb held still.

I scrawled on the figure’s back, where most of the flat space happened to be. Thou shalt not plot harm against witches and girls, not speak/​​​​​​​​​​spread evil about witches and girls, inflict no damage, and profit not from witches and girls. Thou shalt not be a bystander. Thou shalt not be an accomplice. I was running out of room. Harm ye none, slut. I drew a

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