Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
You, I know, will cherish the manor. You, I know, will raise children there who will also grow to love it. That’s how it should be.
Gill loved the dollhouse as a child, you know. And Dez’s father taught him to drive in my truck. Mari is obsessed with the brooch she stole, and Ames was a master chess player as a child. In other words, I have not bequeathed random objects to them. They will inherit things that have meaning to them, they just probably won’t find that enough.
As for my leaving the land to Jax Stone, it’s only fair. The land should rightfully be with a descendant of Lupin, just as the manor should always home a Vautier. It’s as simple as that. I also know he won’t let it become a pretty housing estate – the coven doesn’t need one. It’ll actually be safer for them not to use my land, since someone has made several attempts to poison it.
I have dug up three curse jars in the last six months. I don’t yet know who buried them there. What I do know is that my days are numbered, so I’m not sure I’ll figure out who did it before I pass. If I don’t, I’m relying on you to do it. They need to be exposed and dealt with – I trust that you’ll be creatively vengeful about it.
As for my children and other grandchildren, my hope is that they come to understand why I made the decisions I made regarding the will. I don’t expect them to like or approve of those decisions, only to respect them. If they cannot, it’s unfortunate. But it changes nothing.
Be well, stay safe and live—
‘This is bullshit!’ Dez burst out, jumping to his feet.
—large. P.S. Tell Dez, it isn’t bullshit at all.
Clarence looked at Shane, lowering the letter to his side. ‘That’s it.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ripper scanned the faces of Emberlyn’s relatives. All were furious, but only Mari appeared somewhat defeated by the letter. The other three seemed ready to burn shit down.
The rest of the coven exchanged flustered looks, aside from Tyra, who stared intently at the paper Clarence held as if her glare alone could set it on fire. Ripper wondered if, for her, this was like being beaten by Emberlyn all over again, because it was perfectly apparent that Tyra had meant to use this legal battle to hurt her.
‘The letter makes no difference to anything!’ Dez asserted, even as he allowed Ames to urge him back into his seat. ‘She still wasn’t of sound mind. Period.’
Ignoring him, Shane rubbed at his nape. ‘Forgive my ignorance here, but what is a curse jar?’
‘Simply speaking,’ Emberlyn began, ‘it’s a glass jar that will contain things such as broken glass and blood; it will be spelled to cause ill-intent to a person, animal, object or place.’
‘I see.’ Shane’s frown deepened. ‘Why would someone wish to curse the land?’
‘There’s no reason anyone in the coven would,’ Tyra clipped. ‘We all supported Reena’s plans to build a new estate. Millicent has to have lied about the curse jars.’
‘I highly doubt it,’ Ripper cut in. ‘Emberlyn found one last week. I was there.’
Ames snorted. ‘She’s the likeliest person to have tried cursing the land in the first place.’
Ripper bristled on behalf of Emberlyn. But she didn’t seem either offended or upset. In fact, she regarded her cousin as if he was simple.
‘If I’d wanted to damage the land, I wouldn’t have used something as small-time as a curse jar,’ said Emberlyn, her tone haughty. ‘Whoever it was, they do shoddy spell work.’
It was bait, he sensed. An effort to make the culprit reveal themselves in some way. But none of the witches in the room currently seemed more agitated than any other.
‘It has to have been somebody outside the coven,’ Tyra insisted. ‘We had big plans for that land.’
‘Either one of you didn’t care too much about that, or they hoped they could push Millicent to sell the acres if it turned barren,’ Emberlyn said to her, earning herself a narrow-eyed look from Tyra.
Unscrewing a cap from a bottle of water, Ames threw Emberlyn a dirty look. ‘I still say it was you.’
She softly flicked her hand, magick dust briefly peppering the air. That easily, the liquid in Ames’s bottle turned black.
As her cousin gawked at it, she smiled wide. ‘You still think I need a curse jar?’
A ball of magick appeared in Ames’s hand and then – fast as a motherfucker – he pitched it at Emberlyn.
Her hand shot up and caught it.
Gasps flew out of the witches, every one of them going motionless.
Ripper glared at Ames, a growl of fury rumbling in his chest. He was about to rise and cross to the little shit, but she planted a staying palm on his thigh.