The Void (Witching Savannah Book 3) by J. D. Horn Read Free Book Online Page A

with one raised eyebrow. “You were a crap liar as a kid, and anchor or no, you still are.”
    Iris moved past us and pretended to examine the books spread out on Maisie’s desk. I read the cautious look lurking in her eyes, and realized that she was putting herself into a better position to strike, should it be necessary to contain Maisie. Ellen, too, seemed to take note of Iris’s intention. She slid around behind me and mirrored her sister’s station on the opposite side of the room. She wasn’t capable of matching Iris’s nonchalance. She stood stock-still, small lines forming around her eyes, and she prepared herself to intervene at the first sign of trouble. Abby did not seem worried; she remained at my side, a calming force for all of us.
    “No. I’m not lying to you. I don’t think you’re crazy. To me that word means a permanent state. I would say ‘unsettled’ rather than ‘crazy.’ Listen, I’m sorry. You may be ready for this, but I’m not. I thought I was, but . . .”
    Maisie willed my eyes to meet hers, and a sly smile crossed her lips. “I tried to kill you, Mercy. If the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn’t come near you again unless you were strapped tightly into a straightjacket and wearing one of those Hannibal faceplates. As a matter of fact, if one of us is crazy, it’s probably you.”
    “I’m not crazy. Just hopeful.”
    “Pretty much the same thing in this world,” Maisie said. “All the same, I need you to listen to me. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me how I could do what I did to you. Why I would even dream of letting a demon harm my little sister. You’re afraid to ask, but I need to tell you why, and you need to hear it.”
    “I know why,” I said, the words coming out wrapped in razor-sharp barbs. My impulse to flee having been thwarted, the need to fight brought fire to my heart. “You wanted power, and you would do anything, anything to get it.” I heard the anger in my voice, and damn it, I wanted to make sure Maisie heard it too. “You wanted Peter.” I nearly spat my husband’s name at her. “And you weren’t going to let anyone stand in your way. Even me, your own sister.”
    She went nearly limp, looking like a puppet on a slack string. She stepped back as tears fell from her eyes. “No. You’re wrong. At the time, I thought it was true, but I was split. There was the part of me that covered up Ginny’s murder. The part of me that plotted against you, but then there was another part. One that watched on in horror. That part did things to try to warn you. She . . . I tried to tell you in a thousand little ways. Tried to warn you not to trust me, but you never caught on.”
    “Because I trusted you more than anyone else. You were my center.” I couldn’t bear to look at her; I had to look away.
    “And I betrayed you in the most heinous way.” She stepped forward again, but this time I knew it was not a challenge. It was a plea for forgiveness. She took my hand, causing me to focus again on her face. I felt Iris tense on the periphery.
    I drew a deep breath. “At the end. When you tried to stop. Was it because you realized you couldn’t kill me, or because you learned I was carrying Peter’s child?”
    “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It wasn’t for either of those reasons, even though”—her words rushed ahead—“it was for both.” She released me and pressed both hands against her temples. She gritted her teeth and whined as if she were in pain. She stopped and took a few breaths, lowering her hands. “It gets so confusing.” She tilted her head, a crease forming between her brows. “Hear me, Mercy. I’m not trying to excuse myself. I am not trying to rationalize my actions. I know what I did was monstrous.” I watche d her face wash over with horror, her eyes widening and her lips trembling. I knew she was reliving the event in her mind. “When they got to the point where the anchor energy was to settle on me, I