Gypsy Magic - J.R. Rain Page 0,77

continued to heal me. And I had to admit it was working. I could feel my energy returning and my heartbeat slowing down. Little by little, the nausea was leaving me and the dizziness along with it.

“But Barbra killed her brother-in-law!” Marty nearly yelled.

Ophelia turned on him like a snake. “Yes, and she will be punished for doing so. But by a jury of her own kind, her peers.” Then she faced me. “And the contract promises you will never speak of this night or of the fact that there are monsters in Haven Hollow to anyone.”

“I don’t happen to have a pen on me,” Marty said acidly.

Ophelia’s smile dripped sweet venom as she released me. Then she reached inside her blazer and withdrew a square of paper. She flattened it on the table top and pushed it towards us. Then she reached into her other pocket and withdrew something glittering and sharp.

She offered Marty the broach, turning it around to reveal the sharp clasp on the back, an evil glint in her eye.

“Blood will do just fine.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Two Weeks Later

The side effects from my concussion lasted around a week, maybe. Ophelia’s healing power had certainly helped me quite a bit and my recovery wasn’t as long nor as difficult as I’d assumed it would be. I mostly just felt… tired. The side effects from our discovery... well, that lasted longer.

I was surprised to find how relieved I was to learn that Darla had merely returned to the house after the situation with the wendigo. Once I’d broken the bond between us, Darla’s energy had been as shot as mine and she’d blipped out of existence, returning to her source—the pencil box. She hadn’t been able to take physical shape for at least a week although she could still speak and complained about the fact night and day.

With Barbra’s secret exposed, the haunting had immediately stopped—at least that’s what Marty said. I wasn’t sure what Layla’s reaction had been to the news that her sister had murdered her husband, but I imagined it couldn’t have been good. All I did know was that Barbra was in the custody of the council and Layla was taking care of the girls.

As regards the rest of the mess, even though I’d pressed a bleeding index finger to Ophelia’s contract, I hadn’t needed to. There was no way I wanted to talk about the events of the night to anyone, not even myself. It was almost like I thought the memories would go away by not remembering. Or maybe this was just a good example of being in shock and denial.

Finn was angry when he asked me what happened, but I couldn’t tell him. I desperately wanted to tell him everything: that sasquatch was real and happened to be Roy Osbourne, that Stanley was a centaur and Lorcan a vampire. But the contract had stated, in no incomplete terms: No mundane under the age of eighteen could know anything about the monsters in Haven Hollow.

Ever.

Finn realized, of course, that I was keeping something from him. And Marty’s poker face wasn’t much better. Thus, Finn started giving everyone the cold shoulder, even Marty. And that was saying something.

I was still getting side-eyed by Ophelia, though most of the other supes, as they called themselves, welcomed us with open arms. There were several dozen of them in Haven Hollow ranging from Gregory, the OCD werewolf to a pair of demonic twins, Fifi and Dimitri, a succubus and incubus respectively.

And realizing Fifi was a succubus made a hell of a lot of sense when I remembered how she just happened to be the most attractive woman I’d ever seen. Then there was the way everyone responded to her at the Half-Moon Grill, including my son. But, not including good ol’ McFly. Hmm, that was interesting, for sure.

Roy and I were seated on my newly acquired porch swing, watching the moon rise incrementally as we sipped hot cider. It was nearly midnight.

“I still haven’t called a contractor,” I complained as I took a deep breath.

“Yeah, that kitchen isn’t going to start remodeling itself,” Roy answered with a laugh.

“Tomorrow,” I said with a quick nod. “Tomorrow I’m going to call someone—first thing in the morning.”

Finn had gone to bed without saying good night or giving me a kiss for the third time in a row this week. I knew I had to give him time. I’d explained that I’d been sworn to secrecy and I couldn’t tell him why