To Hex or Not to Hex (Lilith Blackward Cozy Witch Series Book 3) by Constance Barker

Author:Constance Barker [Barker, Constance]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Constance Barker
Published: 2019-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7: WINDING ROAD TO THE TRUTH

Lilith found herself standing outside, behind Blackward Manor. It was snowing but she couldn’t feel the cold. She couldn’t feel anything actually.

In front of Lilith was the family graveyard. She moved through the field of tombstones without actually walking. Listed on the cold rock were the names of her ancestors going all the way back to the fall of the Roman Empire. That wasn’t quite right since she knew the more ancient members of her clan were buried in what was once Gaul.

Lilith stopped at her father’s tombstone. There it was: “Marcus Blackward: 1783-2019”. Instead of being buried under six feet of frozen ground, she saw him, as pristine as he was the day of his funeral, lying on the snow. It looked like he was sleeping.

Next to Marcus Blackward’s tombstone was another, Lilith’s own. Kneeling at it was Older Lilith, not a ghost but in the flesh. She cried, stopped when she felt herself being stared at. Then she pointed to the sky. Lilith looked up and saw the faint light of a dying sun.

Lilith tried to protest. She tried to insist that she’s going to stop the end from coming. But all that came out was frustrated silence.

The next thing she knew, Lilith was inside Blackward Manor. She was in the living room which was bigger than most people’s houses. Someone sat in a chair by the fire, which provided the only light in the room.

Slowly, Lilith approached the chair. As she did the room she passed by...what was behind her disappeared, swallowed by deep impenetrable darkness. The farther she advanced through, the farther the chair and the fire seemed to be. Did it stretch out away from her?

Lilith was in a chair in front of the fire. Something compelled her to look down at her hands which were encased in iron, loosely chained together. Panic set in but there was nothing she could do about it. She wasn’t in control of her own body.

“May I have this dance,” Lilith heard her father’s voice. But it was Deacon Thorne who stood in front of her arm and hand outstretched with an impossibly wide smile.

Lilith danced hand intertwined with Deacon Thorne’s away from the fire. His hand was on her waist. It was sickening. The darkness was replaced with more snow and woods. All traces of the living room were gone except for the chair and the fireplace.

The snow fall is fast forward, quicker than even a blizzard as Lilith and Deacon slowly danced. He spun her around, her bare feet rapidly re-positioned themselves in the snow. As she twirled she caught glimpses of Amadeus Essex, hands bloody, laughing and clapping. Sir Kain, Aunt Rose and Eve’s corpses were at his feet.

Deacon Thorne let go of Lilith sending her face first into the snow. A fair skinned hand reached out for her in the snow. It was that of her mother. When she looked up she saw her mother who had a concerned look on her face.

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