Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,24
guy.”
“You know a guy?”
She grinned. “Wait here,” she said before heading inside.
I frowned and studied the ground around the house as a man tried to get me to sign a petition to stop the demolition of an old print factory. I signed it because why not then studied the manor. Made of thick, black timber, it towered above the tourists posing for selfies. I looked for Roane again, but like before, he was gone.
When Annette came back with two passes, I said, “It’s been moved.” Either that or my bearings were off.
“Yes,” she said, impressed. “They had to move it thirty-five feet to keep it from being torn down when they widened North Street. How did you know?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I must’ve read it somewhere.”
Annette studied the spot I’d been staring at. “I don’t think so. What did you see?”
“Nothing. It’s just, I don’t know, off-center.”
“Let’s go in. You’ll love it.”
Normally, I would agree with her. I loved history. But the closer we got to the entrance, the more uncomfortable I became. Dark energies swirled around me. Light as well, but the dark was disorienting. Dizzying. Nauseating.
I pulled up my bootstraps and soldiered on. We ducked inside and traveled four-hundred years into the past. Wood floors creaked beneath our feet as we perused the entryway. Glass cases displayed items form the era, including a woman’s boot and a witch bottle. I found the bottle particularly interesting.
“This is the only structure still standing with direct ties to the Witch Trials of 1692,” Nette said.
I wiped all expression from my face. “You just read that in the brochure.”
She brought a brochure out of her back pocket and waved it. “True. Doesn’t make it any less cool. Or sad. Depending.” She tapped it on my arm and led the way into the parlor. “Many would say Judge Corwin paid dearly for his part in the trials.”
“How so?”
“The Corwin Curse. Eight Corwins died in this house.”
“That’s awful.”
The former magistrate’s parlor was appointed with primitive furnishings and household items like candles and quills and some gorgeous silver platters. A huge brick fireplace took up an entire wall. A table, where the judge had likely heard the accusations of the residents, sat along another.
The kitchen was no less impressive, only the fireplace was even bigger with a beehive oven on the back wall and a cast iron pot hanging inside. An ornate carpet lay across a thick wooden dining table, and a butter churn sat in one corner along with thick milk bottles and tin cups.
We took a set of narrow wooden stairs up to the second floor to the master bedroom. The energy hit me hardest there. A wave of dizziness washed over me as we examined the contents of the room. A cradle sat near another huge fireplace with a bedpan hanging from it. A silk dress was on display in one corner and a bible box sat on a nightstand beside a canopied bed. Inside it, the Corwins would’ve kept their bible and important documents.
But the most interesting thing about the bedroom had to be the little blond boy dressed in period clothing dangling his feet over the side of a small writing desk.
“He’s adorable,” I whispered, not wanting him to break from his role. “A little boy in period clothes. He’s dressed so authentically.”
He looked up at me and waved.
I put a hand over my heart. “I want to take him home.”
Annette turned to me. “Okay, but don’t get us arrested again like last time. Most children are accompanied by at least one parent.”
Several other people were perusing the room at the same time, but none of them paid the least bit of attention to the boy. “Where do you think they are?”
“Who?” she asked, checking out a picture of a woman.
“The boy’s parents.”
He smiled again, hopped down from the desk, and darted out of the room. Only he didn’t go through a door. He went through a wall.
I froze as a wave of terror gripped me like nothing I’d ever felt before. No idea why. It wasn’t like he was scary. I’d thought I’d seen a ghost once as a kid. Turned out to be Papi wearing an avocado mask.
“What boy?” Annette asked, looking around.
I felt a tug on my jacket but didn’t move. I knew it was him. It had to be. No one else in the room was that short.
“Deph?” Annette snapped her fingers in front of my face. It was super helpful. “You in there?”