Victoria Winters waited until Elizabeth Collins Stoddard left the room.
“I wouldn’t hurt Barnabas.” Her words were for Julia as much as Maggie, but she found herself looking at Maggie. Looking for absolution. “He’s not the only one who killed because of what Angelique made him.”
Julia Hoffman let out a sharp, hissing breath, withdrawing into herself as if putting up walls and armour to hide the woman beneath it all.
Maggie Evans just looked at Victoria Winters with quiet compassion, no shock, no dismay. “What happened?”
“I killed him.” The words came out in a rushing sob. “He was trying to kill David. I mean Daniel. Daniel Collins. He looked so much like David as a child.”
***
Wide brown eyes looked out of a small face filled with terror as the hands wrapped around his neck.
“Pretty boy. Maybe I won’t leave you on the beach as I planned if you’re nice, eh?” A leering face. “We could go to the sea, just you and me. Enjoy ourselves a little trip, eh?”
He kept on squeezing, not giving the child a chance to answer.
“Stop!” Victoria raised the pistol, aimed it at the man throttling Daniel.
He stopped. He turned to look at her. “Ooo, it’s the wicked witch of Collinsport! I’m so scared! What are you going to do, turn me into a frog?”
Holding Daniel by the scruff of the neck, keeping him between them, he dragged the boy there. “I’m just getting to know Lieutenant Forbes’s favorite boy a little better. Having a little fun with him. Just ask Nathan. I’m one of Lieutenant Forbes’s favorites myself. Anyone will tell you. Noah Gifford is a reliable guy. Yes, he is.”
This reliable guy, Noah Gifford leered at her, looking at her up and down. Shuffling a little closer. “Besides if you're such a dangerous witch, why do you need a pistol, huh?”
He grabbed at her arm, knocking the pistol from her hand.
She reached for his face, rage reverberating down her arm. She’d had enough. Enough of being bullied. Enough of seeing good people hurt by opportunists, good people cut down, shot, betrayed.
She grabbed his chin, glowering at him, no longer caring he was twice her side.
Noah Gifford’s leer turned into sheer terror when she touched him. “No…”
His face went slack. A mark bloomed on his cheek.
Pain erupted in her hand.
Victoria looked down to see a scar appearing on her skin. A scar the same shape as the mark.
The man crumpled to the ground, dead.
Daniel stared at the corpse, at her with round eyes. His mouth opened. He covered it with both hands.
Victoria opened her mouth, unsure if she was going to scream, apologize, or make excuses.
What came out was, “Are you all right?”
Daniel nodded, pulling himself together. “He was going to kill me. This is exactly what I’ll say when someone asks me about it. Only he dropped dead. Unexpectedly.”
The little boy pressed his lips together, reminding Victoria of Elizabeth and Barnabas as much as David. “You saved my life. Thank you. Even though you were never here tonight.”
The child ran in the opposite direction, not looking back at his former governess.
***
“All I did was touch him. He died.” Victoria swallowed. “Don’t you see? I’m a witch. Like Angelique. Maybe I belonged on that gallows.”
“If you think so, we’d better talk.” Maggie’s voice was even gentler. “Witch to witch.”
The redhead glanced over at the doctor. “Do you mind, Julia?”
“I thought you hated that word.” Julia’s comment was milder than usual as she glanced from her cousin to Victoria.
“Sometimes I hate the people who use it. The way they use it.” There was a bleak edge to Maggie’s words. “Seeing that rope burn reminds of that hate.”
Julie glanced at Victoria. “Vicki, you’ve just survived intolerance of the ugliest kind which I'm ashamed was ever legal. Even if a court of law did this to you, don’t let them convince you they were right.”
“It’s part of our past.” Why were these words spilling out of her mouth? “A past I was stupid enough to crave. Desperately.”
Laughter bubbled up her throat, emerging as a choked sob.
“Not everything you craved was bad, Vicki.” Julia hesitated before walking out the door, glancing at Maggie as she left.
Maggie sat down beside Victoria on the bed. “Most people have the luxury of being able to wish their enemies were dead. We don’t. Not unless we want it to happen.”
“We?” Victoria asked in a very small voice.
“People like you and I. Witches.” Maggie reached out to take Victoria’s hand. “People who can shape reality, push their wishes closer becoming a reality just by thinking about them.”
“I did want it to happen.” Victoria looked down at the scar on her hand. “After being accused of being in league with the devil, blamed for so many bad things, I was angry. I was hurt.”
“I know.” Maggie reached out for her hand, the one with the scar upon it. “I’ve been angry so many times, I’ve lost count.”
“Have you ever…” Victoria trailed off.
“Yes, and I’ve regretted it.” Maggie lifted her hand to her lips. “Even worse, I haven’t.”
For a moment Victoria wondered if her tongue was going to flicker out to taste her scar. Her heart picked up its pace.
Maggie glanced at her with a little half smile and lowered Victoria’s hand.
Victoria felt herself flush, realized she was a little bit disappointed.
“Being a witch doesn’t make you good or bad, Vicki.” Dark eyes locked with her own. “Whether you’re good or bad is up to you.”
For a moment Victoria Winters felt the walls of her cell closing in on her. All those people breathing outside. Judging her.
***
“I didn’t do it,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to do those things.”
“Even if you could, I don’t think you would have.” Paying no attention to the damp or the dirt, Josette DuPres Collins sat beside her. “Angelique didn’t do the things she did just because she could. It’s because she was jealous. She didn’t feel she had enough love or power.”
The lady looked down at their entwined hands. “I can’t help feel some of that was my doing. Angelique lost her mother when she was very young. I tried to be with her, to be a sister to her, but she was a servant. Everyone, the entire world reminded her that she was a servant. What did that do to her? What did that to us?”
“Josette.” Victoria squeezed her hand. “I never knew my mother. I was a servant. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’ve been here for me. It’s meant all the world.”
“You see?” Josette smiled a little. “Even if you knew witchcraft as Angelique did, you wouldn’t do the things she does. I know you. It’s not who and what you are which determines your worth. It’s what you do with what fate has given you.”
***
“Josette’s room is filled with her warmth. I can see why Barnabas wanted to keep it exactly as it was.” Victoria looked down at Maggie’s fingers wrapped around hers. “I don’t understand how Angelique could live within that warmth and not love the source of it.”
“Perhaps she did.” Maggie looked away as if she was seeing someone else from across a great distance. “Perhaps she hated Josette because she loved her. Perhaps her love and hatred were in equal measure.”
“As she loved and hated Barnabas?” Victoria let go of Maggie’s hand. “You just don’t understand that, don’t you?”
“I’m trying to.” Maggie turned to look back at Victoria, a tired smile tugging at her lips.
“Barnabas does.” Victoria was certain of this, as certain as she’d been of Julia’s fear and love for the vampire as she hovered over Victoria, uncertain what the other woman might reveal. “I’m afraid I’m starting to as well.”
She lifted her hands to her face. “I can’t forgive her, Maggie. For what she did to Josette, Jeremiah, Sarah, Barnabas, to the Collins family. For what she did to me! I just can’t forgive her!”
“Forgiveness doesn’t always come when we wish it to.” Maggie looked away. “I’m sure Angelique can’t forgive Josette.”
“For what?” Victoria lowered her hands. “For being beautiful and kind? For Barnabas continuing to love her, to seek her reflection in me?”
“Yes.” Maggie’s smile disappears. “Maybe Angelique needs Josette to hate her back. Maybe you can make her happy in a way Josette couldn’t. By not forgiving her. By meeting her hate-filled heart with equal venom.”
“You don’t believe that.” Victoria smiled and shook her head. “You think hate is ridiculous. A waste of energy which shakes you around and throws you.”
“Everyone I’ve ever met who hated was ultimately at its mercy.” Maggie looked down at her own hands. “If Barnabas and Angelique were able to let go of their hate, everyone harmed by that hatred might be finally free. Including them.”
“You want to save them.” The sheer innocence of this wish astonished Victoria Winters. “Both of them. The vampire and the witch.”
“What can I say? I’m a romantic.” Maggie grinned at Victoria. “If you’re going to dream big, go for the impossible ones.”
“Sounds like you’re setting yourself up for disappointment,” Victoria observed with a sharpness which surprised herself.
“Now you’re getting it.” Maggie gave her sideways glance, her grin softening into something oddly seductive. “Being a witch is about working with the energies of the world, Victoria. You can try to control your hate. Or you can see what you can do with it.”
“Is that all you wanted to say to me?” Victoria feel a curious pang in her chest. “Witch to witch? I'm not even sure if I am a witch.”
“You are what you want to be. Not what other people call you. Even if they’re a legitimate court of law during the 18th century.” Maggie shook her head. “And no, this isn’t everything I wanted to say to you, witch to witch.”
She leaned forward to enfold Victoria in her arms, hugging her.
This surprised Victoria, but she leaned into the hug. The scent of pine trees, the sea, and paint rose from Maggie’s hair and skin, enveloping her.
Once again the illusion of safety wrapped itself around her with a woman’s arms. It was so very different than being hugged by Elizabeth yet it was the same.
For a moment she breathed Maggie in, feeling the other woman’s chest rise against hers, listening to Maggie breathe her in as well. Their hearts beat as one, a gentle rhythm against Victoria’s breast.
“You’re not alone,” Maggie whispered into her hair. “I’m on your side, Victoria Winters. More than I can admit to anyone else, I’m on your side.”
She let Victoria go and stood up. “Remember that.”
Victoria watched her go, move across the room, opening the door to where Julia Hoffman waited outside.
She listened to their footsteps, walking away down the hall.
The scent of Maggie still clung to her arms and hair.
Victoria breathed it in and hugged herself.
For a moment she was back in Josette’s bedroom, the scent of her jasmine perfume filling the air. Another battled this.
Roses. Rosewater, clinging to her skin. Making her think of Jeremiah’s smile as he turned toward his horse. As he turned to raise his gun, pointing it at his nephew. His brother.
Laughter, wicked and sweet filled her head. She saw Angelique clinging to the horns of a great statue of a beast, looking down at the two men.
She saw Angelique applying the rosewater to Jeremiah’s bed. Stroking Josette’s limbs in the bath.
Josette sat up, listening to her music box. Remembering Martinique, the fire in Barnabas’s eyes when he took her hand. Asked her to dance.
She felt Barnabas’s lips on her. Nibbling. Sliding her out of her gown, tasting her naked flesh. Tasting her.
*I can never forget Martinique. It lives in my heart forever as its shadow will haunt you, my sister. For I had him first. I should have had everything first.*
She looked at Josette and saw gowns which should have been hers. She brought flowers to her mistress’s room when someone should have brought flowers to her.
She saw Barnabas take Josette’s hand when she’d had tasted every inch of him. When he’d filled her, making her scream his name in her dreams.
*You have taken everything from me, little sister, but not him. You shall not take him. Even if I have to return from the grave to take him from you. Even if he has to destroy you and every other fragment of your soul who walks and breathes.*
*This I promise you. Witch to witch.*
Victoria shuddered, hugging herself, pressing her hands against her ears.
She still couldn’t get Angelique’s laughter out of her head.