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“Curses aren’t real,” I say softly, and I feel Sam’s arm brush against mine. I flinch away from him. The traitor.
Veronica tsks, waggling her index finger at me. “Neither are witches.”
She has a good point. I continue to listen.
She places the chain back into the box. “By the time I found out, it was too late. I was already eight months pregnant and ready to give birth. I was the leader of The Coven, so essentially, I didn’t owe any of them an answer as to who the father of the baby was.” My stomach coils. “The Coven and Elders were furious when they found out that it was not only not conceived by our code, but by an Elite King. You have to understand, there are stories of the time Humphrey Hector Hayes was alive. The Kings were not who they are today, and most of the witches kept them to that standard. Everything you know about them is minuscule to what they were back then. Anyway,” she says, taking another cigarette out of the pack and lighting the tip. She inhales and exhales. “My sisters were furious, as was I with my pregnancy. They performed a ritual in the garden the night I gave birth and then tied me to a cross, much like the crucifixion of Jesus.” Veronica leans forward and flicks the ash off her smoke. “They cut him from my womb and sent him to be destroyed, Saint. I helped them because I wanted to earn back their trust. He was to be sent straight to The Lost Boys for execution.” She leans back in her chair and I have to stop the visuals from flashing through my head. I feel sick to my stomach, thinking of Brantley as a sweet baby, being carried off to be executed. “Obviously, he was saved by someone, but the witches never knew by who.”
“Wait!” I stop her with a single word. “Who saved him?”
She stares off into the distance. “I still don’t know.” Her mouth twists and the furrow lines between her brows deepen. “But I have my suspicions.”
“You sent your baby to be killed?”
She flicks her nails and shrugs. “Yes. I would do what I had to do. Lucan was a mistake.”
“You’re disgusting. Lucan found out, didn’t he? About your plan to kill the baby.”
“Ah, Brantley was right about you. So smart. Yes, he found out, but it’s not what you think. Lucan wasn’t evil. My son, he is evil. Lucan is not. Lucan is simply soulless. I thought I was free when they took him.” She blinks, her dark lashes fanning out over her cheeks. “Of course I found out later that Brantley wasn’t killed at birth and was living back with Lucan, so I did the next best thing; I got close enough for him to trust me.”
Curses, witches, and warlocks. It’s all folklore and fantasy, and deep down, I wonder if Veronica is unstable, at best. But then I remember what I’ve been through with Ava Garcia and now Lucan. Maybe I’m just psychic. It doesn’t explain the witches she recruited or the history of The Daughters of the Night, nor does it even touch the subject of said male witch seated beside me.
“I knew I could never set foot near Lucan again without him burning my eyes from my fucking sockets, so I went straight for Brantley. He was hard to crack at first, but he grew to trust me. Literally.” She sighs, stomping out her cigarette butt. “When I learned of you, I knew you had to be the riddle to crack the curse code. You were half-King and half-witch, though not my daughter—” She smirks, running her tongue over her teeth. “I thought the black hair would have been a giveaway that you were not my child.” She rolls her eyes before continuing, “I mean, surely someone carrying the Hayes’ curse had to be the one to break the curse, right?” She stands, running her hands over the doors in the room. “See, your curse is something you hold all on your own. The Elders don’t care that I was with a King. The problem was that I didn’t partake in the ritual of The Hunt and conceive the correct way by our laws.” I don’t want to interrupt her since she’s spewing all of her tales. Veronica studies me closely and I’m painfully aware of how close Sam is sitting beside me. “How is Tillie doing? I’ve got to say, I would have loved to see her run this island. Maybe give her something else to run except her mouth.” Her hands run over the skirting of the doors.
“She is fine, and I’m sure she will be handling this island the same way she does her mouth. With teeth.”
Veronica chuckles. “So cute.” She jumps back into her story time. “As years went on and you grew older, I knew you were it. I knew I had to continue to keep Brantley close to me in order to stay close to you, too, because when the time came and I needed you, I knew I would need to go through him first.”