Page 36 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)
W ithin my clutch, the tiny hinge of the locket undid itself, exposing what laid inside. On the left was a hand-painted portrait which fell victim to time—which was curious since the rest of the locket remained immaculate. It was of a man, but a dark smudge obscured his eyes. There was something familiar in the angle of his jaw. The right side of the locket featured the tiniest script, almost impossible to decipher.
I will drown in the deadliest of seas
Throughout the centuries
To savor a breath of your air
Once more - SB
His words. In his own writing. That had to mean, “the portrait,” I whispered, my voice shaking along with my hands. I held the locket closer, trying harder to decipher the entire image. Stupid smudge. A lump formed in my throat as those emotions from the daydream resurfaced.
It had been ages—his touch, his scent. It had been lifetimes. My mind played through a marquee of thoughts. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of past shadows that lingered inside of me. A mysterious ache rooted itself deep in my chest, clouding my mind with memories that weren’t my own. The locket was so hot in my palm, the skin reddened. I dropped it onto the windowsill and the hinge snapped closed.
I walked to the nightstand, conjuring Fire to light the wick of the candle, but I paused. My fingers still clutched the locket. How? Quickly glancing at the empty windowsill, chills climbed up my spine.
Then, my phone rang, with the cheerful jingle designated for Eamon. I quickly threw the chain around my neck, letting the locket settle in its place beneath my throat.
“Hey,” I said, my voice faltering. I didn’t want to worry my stepdad, but there was no way he hadn’t noticed that.
“Raina, hey.” His tone was gentle. “You alright?” Eamon noticed right away, and I mentally kicked myself for not concealing my feelings better.
“I’m fine, just still recovering from Halloween.” It wasn’t entirely untrue, after all.
Eamon cleared his throat, grappling with his own overwhelming emotions. “I can’t—I am just so grateful they found you. Your friend, the Fire Marshal, told me he was afraid you have…well, that you looked in rough shape when he found you.”
“You spoke to Griffin?” I was surprised. Griffin never mentioned this to me.
“I came by the hospital as he was arriving, and he told me everything. There were visitor restrictions due to the number of people injured. He took my number to give me an update once he saw you.”
This was news to me. Griffin really went out of his way to ensure my family knew I was alright. I should thank him. He needs to know how doing that means everything to me. “He has been checking in on me. I’m relieved he’s kept you updated. I am really sorry I haven’t…”
Eamon cut me off, “Please, Raina. I’ve known you long enough to know when to step in and when to let you stand on your own. You come to us, to me, whenever you truly need help.” His words made me gulp, threatening the sting of tears in my eyes. “But I was wondering if I could ask you a favor, if you feel up to it.”
“Of course,” I forced myself to sound normal.
“I have to meet with RJ’s teacher again,” he said, sounding frustrated and quickly filled me in on RJ’s adjustments. Given our mother’s recent passing, moving away from home, and starting at a new school, it seemed RJ just frankly didn’t care about school anymore. Which was unusual for him because RJ was brilliant and a big part of him loved the attention he gets because he’s brilliant. “His paintings have become a little more…intense,” Eamon paused for a breath, “they’re spooky. So, I need to meet with his teacher and the counselor again. Could you come by and keep an eye on him? Jeff is offshore for a while.” I found myself wondering for how long Jeff would be away.
I suppressed my questions, “Sure, I’ll head over in a bit. But one thing,” I clenched my teeth and winced. Even as an adult, it still felt super awkward to ask a parent if a boy could come over. “Griffin and I have been spending some time together.”
“Oh?” Eamon asked curiously.
“We made plans to stay in and have dinner together. Is it alright if he comes to the house and hangs out with RJ and me?”
“I don’t see why that would be an issue. Fine with me,” Eamon said decidedly.
“Alright, thanks. Can you text me what RJ wants to eat? I’ll make sure Griffin grabs something for him, too.”
“Sure thing, Rai.” I heard Eamon shuffling around, sounding like he was sifting through papers. “I have to head out of here by 5:15. See you then?”
“Yup, see you later.” I ended the call and texted Griffin the new plan. I then prepared a storage box I had set aside to house the remnants of the artifact from the wreck. Because of its age and formation, it needed to stay wet if I wanted to keep the iron concretion preserved.
Ferran’s mewling sounded like pleas for help as I shut my apartment door behind me and faced the nipping evening chill. My bones shook from just the few short seconds it took for me to dash down the garage apartment’s stairs and into the car. Thank goodness for automatic engine starters, as the dense heat of the car’s interior became my salvation from the sting of the cold.
Black ice made the roads slick as I drove toward Mapleshade. The sun hung low, mostly obscured by the tall, sentient pines. The sight had become so familiar at this point that I almost didn’t notice Martin keeping pace with me, flying between the trees that lined the road. As I pulled up to the house, Pilot say by the brush at the dead end. I may have imagined it, but as I walked up to the front steps, both creatures chuffed at me, probably angry with me for locking away Ferran.
Waves pounded against the bluffs, stirring up my anxiety. The crashing sound made me jump with each set of waves. Once the girls and I figure out what’s going on here on the island, I going to need a long vacation away from any bodies of water .
As I turned the front knob and entered, I found myself in a hollow home. Eamon tried his best to introduce some warmth inside, but the ghost of my mother lingered everywhere, as if she stood in the foyer with me. Not even acknowledging my presence, RJ sat on the couch, fully immersed in his video game. This was rather unusual; he typically spent his time painting or creating in some form.
“He’s been playing nonstop for a few days now.” Eamon’s tired voice came from the room with the fireplace, I jolted and turned to face him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He hugged me tight and walked past me to grab his keys off the hook. Eamon shot a quick glance at the locket before looking back up to meet my eyes. “That’s a nice necklace,” he added. His reaction to the locket felt refreshingly normal, and I had to stifle a giggle that wanted to escape. He didn’t need to be privy to all the strangeness going on in my life right now, and his bubble of normalcy didn’t need to be popped.
“Thanks,” I unconsciously touched the charm and watched Eamon shrug his coat on.
“Call me if you need anything. Please tell Griffin I said hello.” Eamon hugged me again and then yelled past me. “Bye bud, love you! Just fifteen more minutes and you’re done for the night.” RJ fully ignored his dad, who rolled his eyes. “See ya,” he said to me as he left through the door.
“Hey, you,” I said to RJ, plopping onto the couch beside him. Still, zero acknowledgement. “Ok, I see what’s going on…” I began to tease him, but his head snapped toward me, giving me a harsh glare. I choked on my breath, stunned.
“No!” he shouted. “No, you don’t see , Raina. You’re never around. You moved here so that we could all be together, but you never stop by.” He threw the controller. I rose abruptly, in utter shock. RJ had never raised his voice to anyone, especially me.
“I can come around more. I—I’m sorry.” I started to stumble through an apology but stopped as I took in the sight of my little brother.
The dark circles under his blue eyes had deepened, giving him a gaunt appearance—not from lack of weight, but as if his spirit scattered in too many directions at once. “You won’t…you won’t be coming here anymore. I don’t even want you here. I don’t even want to be here.” RJ was yelling, now on his feet. “I can’t sleep here; it’s too loud. Everything is too loud. I can’t paint, because he’s always watching. I just want to be left alone!” He let out a growl and ran up the stairs and into his room.
Anxiety swelled in my stomach as I wondered how I could possibly help ease his troubled thoughts. His words immediately haunted me. I followed him to his room, fearful of another outburst. I cautiously pushed the door open and gasped.
Every single surface of his room was cluttered with canvases and sheets of paper; torn and scattered across the floor and pinned to the walls, which were themselves drawn on underneath the chaos. The images grew increasingly grotesque and haunting as my eyes jumped from one to the next. The crimson sun bled throughout the sky in each piece. In another, the cove bathed in a scarlet veil. Drownings, imprisonment, death—imagery no child should envision , were the subjects of most of his art.
I sat on the small desk chair, giving in to his pain for a moment. Eamon swore he was doing everything he could, working with the school counselor, his teacher, and a therapist; yet, looking at the space now, things seemed to worsen. Anger welled up inside me because, whether Eamon was in denial or not, he definitely downplayed my little brother’s troubling episode. The changes in RJ were now palpable, and I grew worried that it might be too late to rescue the poor kid from his own mind.
Helplessness kept me frozen in my seat when a knock on the front door jolted me from my thoughts. I took a deep breath with every stride I made toward the door. When I opened it, there stood Griffin. His face was aglow with the ruby rays of the sunset, a huge brown paper bag in his hands. He wore a devilish smile and said “I hope you’re ready.” He slipped by me and walked into the kitchen. I forced a smile onto my face and buried what I was feeling, vowing to address everything with Eamon at the first chance I could.
Every single item from the menu at the Shanty was now laid out like a picnic on the living room floor, except for the chicken tenders and fries I took upstairs to RJ, who sat silently at his desk, brooding. For a while, Griffin and I did nothing but eat and argue about which movie genre to pick. I wanted something distracting, opting for fantasy, while he favored for something more exciting like action. We ended up watching Avatar, the flick with the blue people.
“You know this is just a version of Pocahontas, right?” he asked.
“The Disney movie?”
“Yes, where the people who think they know what’s best colonize and steal resources from indigenous tribes, suppressing them with violence.” His face held his usual smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, when you put it that way…” I got stuck in thought. He made a good point.
“That’s basically how we all got here, right?” He picked up another French fry, covered in Old Bay and lobster. I tilted my head, my mouth full of lobster roll. “Neither of us is indigenous to this region. We both descend from colonizers in some way.” His eyes grew wide, “I am so sorry for assuming; you could be a second-generation for all I know.” A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and he stopped talking.
“No, you’re right. My family has been around for a long time. My mother’s family is actually from here. Well, not originally from here, but lived here for generations.” My nose scrunched. “You know what I mean.”
“Really? What was her family’s name?” He sat up straighter.
“Burrows, Bronwyn Burrows.” I sighed. God, I missed her .
Griffin placed a hand on my knee, averting his eyes. “I’m sorry, Rai. The loss of a parent is incomparable to any other. The void where my parents should be standing constantly accompanies me. I’ve become numb to it since it's my norm, and I apologize for forgetting how new it is for you.” I didn’t know what to say and simply looked at Griffin. Thankfully, the movie caught our attention.
Remnants of the picnic were left scattered on the blanket as we migrated to the sofa. Conversation halted as the movie peaked and ended, and with just one look from Griffin, I started the sequel without hesitation. As the film began, I ran upstairs to check on RJ. He lay in bed, and his soft, steady breathing eased my worries about him.
“This is basically the same movie,” Griffin chuckled, not even ten minutes into the first act.
“It is, but like you said, it’s a recurring theme, the story has been told over and over again.” I focused on the screen. We were now sitting very close, his arm draped across the back of the couch. His fingers caressed the back of my neck absentmindedly, causing my breath to hitch. “So, is your family from the island, too?” I tried to keep my voice steady even as pleasant shivers spread across my skin.
“No, actually, we moved up here a few generations ago.” His touch held just a slightly firmer pressure now as his fingers explored a hint below my collar. He played with the locket’s chain every so often, and I was reminded of its warmth against my chest.
“Can you trace all the way back?” I asked, and he nodded. “To when?” His touch lulled me. I shifted and nestled in closer. He embraced me, resting his left hand over my shoulder and entwining my fingers with his right and pulled our locked hands to rest across his body. We were suddenly knotted in a cozy bundle on the couch, forgetting about the movie entirely. We know how it ends.
“Like I said,” he remarked, acknowledging the movie. “We’re colonizers, cursed with the atrocities our ancestors committed to create such a legacy.”
“That’s one way to put it.” I shook my head slightly, trying not to think of the weight of his words. Horrible deeds were done to those who lived on this land once the Europeans claimed it as their own. It was a privilege that we were even able to trace our ancestry at all. That is something I would never take for granted.
“My family was one of the originals, by way of Massachusetts.”
“It seems like so many families here are from Massachusetts,” I said.
“Yes, that’s true. Is it not for you?”
“I’m still figuring that out. There’s little information about my mom’s side before Redd Hills. And my dad—I can’t find anything. It’s as if the Archers never existed. I know nothing about my paternal grandparents.” Except for his Book of Shadows, which details a long legacy of Archers. However, I didn’t want to bring it up. Griffin watched me intently as I thought about where I could have come from. “Since so many families trace back to Massachusetts, it’s probably likely that the Burrows came from there.”
Griffin chuckled, “I mean, you’re probably just a Salem Witch like everyone else.” He grinned crookedly at me, playfully squeezing my hand. His tone was so relaxed, but I felt my stomach drop, and my mouth went dry. Panicking about Griffin seriously knowing I am a witch, I felt my palms tingle. The weight of the locket hung heavily at my throat. My breathing quickened, my face fell and…“Whoa,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender, “I was joking! I didn’t mean to upset you, I forgot how new all of this is for you.”
“All of what?” I looked at him pointedly.
“What I showed you at the Forge…what you—.” He forced a laugh. “You just don’t find my jokes funny, and I’m crashing and burning. I get it.” This time, his smile lit up his eyes, and I let a breath out, matching his grin. His fingers went back to their mindless musings, now tracing my jaw. “If you don’t like me for my humor, then I’m determined to figure out what else could have possibly enraptured you so much that you actually choose to talk to me instead of any other guy on this island.” His head tilted down, so close to mine, that I had to look up through my lashes to see into his eyes, which turned smoky, his lids heavier. I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t used to a man trying so hard when it came to my attentions. Nathan would never…
A heartbeat passed. Then another.
“I don’t—” My breath hitched, then his lips were on mine. His palm held my cheek as his mouth hovered over mine, his other hand on my hip. His tongue swept across my lower lip and I parted mine allowing him entrance. His kiss was soft, but deep. Slow with intent. His right hand slid from my hip and cupped behind my knees, pulling my legs over his so I was all but sitting on his lap. Griffin effortlessly moving my body had an immediate effect, and warmth spread through me as all rational thoughts disappeared. Even with me on top of him, his face was level with mine. I let my hands slide over his shoulders and inch lower to explore his chest. The muscles tightened as his hand fell from my cheek and ran down my back.
Internally, logic seemed to fight for a foothold. Yet, I closed my eyes and drank in his kiss. There was no wondering whether or not he was enjoying this. Underneath me, every part of his body hardened, and the reminder of what fought against the tight fabric sent a shock of anticipation through me. I adjusted and moved my leg to straddle him. Gripping the back of his hair as we all but devoured each other. My hips moved in sync with the slow, small circles his thumbs made on the sliver of exposed skin below my shirt hem. A low growl built in his chest.
“Raina,” he said in a husky voice. I stopped him with another kiss to which he responded by trailing kisses down my jaw, focusing on the spot right below my ear. I had to bite my lip as heat rolled through my chest, stomach, and down even lower. The locket blazed, nearly feeling like a brand at this point—but I couldn’t find a reason to care right now. “We need to–,” he breathed against my skin, stopping when my hips involuntarily rolled.
“We need to what?” I bent my head down, my forehead to the top of his head as his kisses swept across my collarbone, hands roaming freely.
“We shouldn’t—” His words cut off as he nipped my skin, sending a gentle jolt of surprise through me. His hands continued their trailing dance under my shirt, slowly inching up.
“We shouldn’t what?” I panted before finding his mouth again. His head tilted back lazily as I took my turn exploring the hard line of his jaw with my mouth; my body pressing against his. A tiny bite on the side of his neck caused his fingers to dig into the skin of my ribs, holding onto me even tighter. Wandering my body, his left hand slid up between my breasts, where the locket nestled.
“Ah!” he hissed and jerked me back, eyes wide. I scrambled off of him, immediately sobered. “It burned me!” he shrieked, looking at his palm.
“What did?” I quickly smoothed down my shirt, my hair, and then wiped my hands on my pants. I didn’t know what else to do. My heart raced.
“The locket…that locket,” he pointed at my chest. “It’s burning hot.” His eyes were narrow, glaring at it as if he was personally attacked.
“I’m sorry, but what?” I grasped the chain between my fingers and pulled the charm out from under my shirt. “It’s not even that hot. Yeah, it’s warm,” I admitted, “but it’s not burning me.”
“I don’t know, Raina. It felt like I just shoved my hands into flames.” He held up his hand, revealing his fingers, which were shining pink, as if they had been burned. I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say. The expression on Griffin’s face made me stand and take a step back. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his eyes had darkened. I felt the urge to apologize, but I wasn’t even sure what for. It’s not like I did anything to hurt him. Not on purpose, anyway. Sure, the locket was warm—maybe even hot—but it wasn’t burning.
His resentful gaze shifted away from mine to the movie, which was nearly finished. I slowly sat down beside him, leaving a noticeable space between each other. I remained still, counting my breaths as I tried to understand how we went from an amazing moment to one so dreadful in a heartbeat. Suddenly, there was sound coming from the foyer.
“Hey, Raina. Oh…” Eamon said in surprise as he walked in through the front door. “I didn’t realize your friend would still be here.” He hung up his keys and strode into the living room with a welcoming gleam in the bright blue eyes. Griffin quickly put on his most charming smile, stood, and turned to meet Eamon with a handshake. “It’s good to see you again, Griffin, under much better circumstances.”
“Yes, I agree, sir.” Griffin clasped Eamon on the shoulder with his free hand. Their familiarity surprised me. I knew they met at the hospital, but they both acted like they were seeing an old friend. Griffin pulled away and stood beside me.
Eamon turned to me. “Things are a bit more complex than I realized.” He gave a slight glance to Griffin before returning to me. “I’m sorry that the meeting went on so long.”
“No, I am glad it did. I hope RJ’s counselor and teacher know the full extent of what’s been going on. I saw his room, Eamon. Why didn’t you—” There was a sharp edge to my voice.
“We can discuss this later.” Eamon interrupted with a tight smile.
“It’s alright, sir. I was just about to head out.” Griffin turned and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, Rai,” and he promptly walked out of the house.
“Not tonight,” Eamon insisted wearily once the door shut, halting my demands and waving me off, before climbing the stairs. “I have a lot on my mind. The changes have been really hard for him. For all of us.”
“I understand that. But we will talk about what’s going on, Eamon. And soon.” I cried from the bottom of the stairs. Frustrated with how this night had turned out. I hastily cleaned up the living room. My shoulders were tense, and a storm of anger was building inside of me—I was pissed. Pissed at Eamon for not divulging the truth about RJ’s struggles. Pissed at Jeff for not noticing, even though he lives in this house specifically to watch over RJ. Pissed at Griffin for making me feel like I had done something wrong., as if I had intentionally made the locket burn him. And pissed at myself for letting RJ down.
“Raina.” A quiet voice spoke in the darkness as I dumped the last of the scraps into the trash. RJ’s little face peered around the bottom of the banister.
“Hey, you,” I answered softly. “Feeling any better?” Ignoring my question, RJ took a couple steps toward me.
“He’s not the only one who will burn.”