Chilling Cadence

Thirteen

Lorelei’s eyes darted back and forth between Cadence and the Necromancer; in the night, those eyes seemed exactly like giant laser points set in her skull. Lorelei’s dark eyebrows pulled down and she clicked her tongue in distaste.

“This is your mother?”

Before Cadence could fix her mouth to answer, she realized the three of them weren’t alone anymore. As if he had materialized out of thin air, Reverend Whitlock was standing behind her where the girl who had feinted lay crumpled on the grass. He wasn’t the only one here, from the corner of her eye, she could see Jaxon, two other men she had seen in passing during the town meeting, and Chau’s father.

Cadence was in such a state of shock that she couldn’t register anyone but the woman whose wrist was held in Lorelei’s iron-like grip.

She didn’t remember her mother well. From what Cadence knew, her mother had lost herself when Cadence was five years old and Cadence’s father, who wanted to attempt to bring his wife back from the edge, left Cadence with her grandmother. He never returned because, in the end, magic corrupted him, too. But Cadence knew that this woman was her mother because she had seen the pictures of her in her Grandmother’s old scrapbooks. Dark skin that seemed to glow and perfect white teeth that gleamed over that skin like the moon over water. In those pictures, her mother was always happy and uncorrupted.

Before the magic had emptied her Grandmother’s soul and took away all of her kindness, the woman would sit with Cadence and tell her stories of how her mother had been. Of her rebellious years, of her mother’s unparalleled kindness. She would say that her mother could sing like nothing her Grandmother had ever heard before and that she was a terrible dancer.

Looking at her now, Cadence knew that magic had truly wiped out any resemblance of that kindhearted Witch who tripped over her own two feet that her Grandmother had spoken of. She was glad that her Grandmother couldn’t see the daughter she spoke of with such longing like this. Her heart would break.

The face definitely belonged to her mother. She was like a statue that had been carved from ebony; beautiful but cold. The warmth of the woman who existed in those photos no longer existed. Her eyes were the tawny yellow of a wildcat’s and slit like one, too. She wasn’t even trying to hide her nature. A Witch had three Marks that identified them as Witches. The cat’s eyes were the first two, and then there was another, hidden somewhere on the body. Sane Witches went to great lengths to hide these Marks, to blend in and live a life as close to normal as possible.

Only Witches who no longer cared about their mortality walked about flaunting their cat’s eyes.

Her chest twisted painfully. She wanted to run away from this scene, from this woman with her cold eyes, but she couldn’t move. It was like roots had come up from the ground and fixed her legs in place.

Jaxon looked back and forth between Cadence, Lorelei, and the Necromancer. His eyes were moving so rapidly that Cadence might have found it comical in another situation. The men who had come with him were also surveying the situation, their gazes wary.

“Sheriff Clearwater is on his way here,” Jaxon finally said, breaking through the tense silence. “The teenagers all ran back into town, kicking up a fuss about a monster. We barely managed to make it here before he did. They said there was a girl here, so we thought we’d help.” He glanced over at the girl who Reverend Whitlock had placed a shawl around and lifted into his arms. “But apparently, that wasn’t necessary.”

He studied Cadence’s mother with disapproving eyes. “And this is…”

“Our Necromancer, yes.” Lorelei’s voice was brisk, her hand on the Necromancer’s wrist tightened. “Cadence was able to destroy the Cyhyraeth, so it will no longer trouble us. Although, I have my grievances with our friend here, but I suppose they will have to wait. Would you escort our guest to her room in the church’s basement, Reverend?”

“I don’t have any objections, but…”

“You don’t have to worry. Cadence’s magic is quite potent and our little Necromancer was wounded badly when Cadence defeated the Cyhyraeth. She won’t fight you on the way to her new residence. You can give the child to me. Sheriff Clearwater is close. He’ll be here in less than a minute, I’d like it if you two were gone before he arrived.”

No other words were exchanged as Reverend Whitlock passed the girl off to Lorelei, took Cadence’s mother, and headed off to the church. Cadence watched them go; she watched as her mother struggled futilely against Reverend Whitlock’s hold. Cadence herself had not had many interactions with the Reverend, but she knew he was stronger than his appearance suggested.

She didn’t have time to ponder on anything as the sound of sirens closed in on them. She watched as everyone quickly got into place as if they had discussed it beforehand. Lorelei laid the girl against the tombstones and knelt by her, placing her hands on the girl’s shoulder and shaking her gently. Jaxon and the other guys all crowded around her, their expression changing to convincingly worried. They were like actors who had been called to action. Only Cadence was in too high a state of shock to give a convincing mask of worry.

The once dark graveyard was covered with red and blue lights and the sound of the sirens were louder. Her brain felt as if it had been ripped from her skull, placed in ice, forcibly thawed, and then shoved back in her head. It felt as if it was frozen and overheated at once, splintering.

Grimm rubbed against her leg and she reached down to pick him up and hold him against her chest. Even through their bond, she could not hear a complaint. He knew that she needed him right now.

The girl’s eyes opened at Lorelei’s steady shaking. Five police officers were jogging toward their group and right as they arrived, the girl’s eyes widened, as she seemed to remember where she was. She let out a breathless scream, flailing, her eyes swinging around wildly in the dark.

“Where is it?” she asked. “That thing. Where is it?”

“Thing?” Lorelei’s confusion was convincing. “What thing?”

The girl’s eyes swung over to meet Lorelei and she flinched. That was to be expected. Cadence had had the same reaction when she first met Lorelei, after all. Even after two days, she was not used to being around a Vampire. She wasn’t sure she would ever be. Although the girl didn’t know what Lorelei was, she knew that, at that moment, the girl was aware—whether consciously or otherwise—that Lorelei was a danger.

Even still, the girl seemed unable to tear her gaze away from Lorelei’s.

“There was a monster,” the girl insisted. “With white hair and when it shrieked, my body felt cold. I couldn’t move. And then it put its hand on my wrist, and I could feel…sadness. It was…” the girl’s face crumpled as tears trailed down her cheeks. “It was terrible. It wanted to hurt me. It wanted my soul. It—”

“Child, look at me,” Lorelei said gently. The girl obeyed, staring into Lorelei’s eyes until her own eyes glazed over. “There was a monster but it was a monster of the human kind. It was an older woman who came at you with a knife. The shrieking you heard was from your friends who screamed as they tried to escape. She did indeed grab your wrist and you fainted from the shock, but these men heard your screaming and came to help you.” She gestured behind her and Jaxon, Chau’s father, and the other two men. “Do you remember?”

The girl blinked quickly, her face holding genuine confusion for a moment before she said, “I-I think you’re right. I do remember it being an old lady now that I think about it.”

One of the cops stepped forward and Cadence knew immediately that he must have been the sheriff. He had an air of authority about him, and the other three cops watched him, waiting to see what he would do before they would act.

“Hello,” he said kindly, taking off his hat. “I’m Sheriff Clearwater. And you are?”

“Clara.”

He smiled. “Alright, Clara. We want to ask you some questions. Would that be okay with you?”

The girl nodded and moved to stand on her feet with Lorelei’s assistance. Sheriff Clearwater looked at one of the officers, and she nodded, stretching out a hand, she and another officer led the girl away, further away from Cadence and the rest but not quite close to the road where their cars were parked.

“An old lady?” Sheriff Clearwater asked, his voice filled with disbelief. “Really?”

Lorelei nodded, her face so serious, it was hard to deny her. “I almost didn’t believe it myself, Sheriff. To think, such a frail woman was the cause of all the suffering that’s been plaguing Glasskeep. When I saw her, I almost couldn’t believe it.”

Sheriff Clearwater looked around the graveyard. “And where is she? The old woman?”

“We were prioritizing saving the kid,” Jaxon cut in. “So we didn’t catch her, unfortunately.”

“And you are?”

“Jaxon.”

Sheriff Clearwater nodded. “Jaxon, you four are all strong, able men. You weren’t able to catch a single old woman.”

Silence fell over the group and Cadence knew that if someone didn’t step up, this would never end. The officers of Blue Ridge would never let them know peace, and the investigation would just go on and on.

Since it would end up bothering Cadence in the end if she remained silent, she spoke up.

“That was my fault.”

Multiple pairs of eyes turned to look at her in surprise. Even Lorelei, who was normally incredibly composed, seemed startled. If this had to be a terrible night, at least she had gotten to see something amusing.

“And you’re…?”

“Cadence.” She paused and then added, “Nightingale.”

“Alright, Miss. Nightingale. How were you involved?”

“I always come to the graveyard on Sundays,” she spoke slowly, giving herself time to fabricate her story as she went on. “I’m into the…metaphysical, I suppose you could say. Dirt from a graveyard on a Sunday is especially powerful.” That part, at least, wasn’t a lie. “While I was gathering dirt, I overheard the sound of screaming. It startled me, so I went to see what happened. I saw the girl, Clara, and the old woman was trying to kill her. I thought I would help…” she trailed off. Where in the hell was she going with this?

“And then?”

“Ah, sorry. Clara had passed out and the old woman was a lot stronger than she looked. It became clear that I might actually die trying to wrestle that knife out of her hand. That’s when Jaxon showed up. The others were far behind him. When she saw that she was outnumbered, the old woman swiped at me and injured me.” Cadence gestured to the cut on her shoulder the Cyhyraeth had given her. “Jaxon was so worried about me and Clara that he stopped to help me. By the time the other caught up to him, the old woman was already gone.”

Sheriff Clearwater glanced at the officer behind him and Cadence waited on bated breath to hear a response. The story had sounded like complete and utter bullshit to her, but she hoped—for the sake of whatever peace she could have with Hansel and Gretel hunting her—that they would believe it.

“I was also in the graveyard visiting a loved one,” Lorelei added. “I can corroborate Miss. Nightingale’s testimony. She fled that way.” Lorelei pointed in the direction she and Cadence had been in a little while ago.”

Both the sheriff and the officer standing behind him looked in the direction Lorelei had pointed in.

“We should have some officers comb through the area,” Sheriff Clearwater was saying, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He turned back to the group. “Did you notice anything else about her that was distinct?”

Lorelei tapped her finger to her lips, her eyes turned skyward. She reminded Cadence of Darius in that moment. She thought now that it was just as wrong as she had back then for a Vampire to forget anything.

“All I remember is her shock of white hair,” the Vampire murmured. “I remember it so well because it was so white in the darkness. But it was so dark, I could see nothing else.” She paused and looked at Cadence. “Despite the darkness, did you see anything?”

Cadence shook her head slowly, keeping her face as impassive as she could. She hoped she was convincing. “It was too dark to see much of anything and at the moment, it all happened so fast…”

Sheriff Clearwater nodded but his lips thinned. From his expression alone, though, Cadence couldn’t tell if he believed them or not.

“What should we do, Sheriff?” asked the officer behind him. “Search through the gravesite?”

“I would prefer it if you did not.”

Everyone’s heads turned to watch as Reverend Whitlock walked up to the group with five nuns behind him. In his priestly attire, he looked almost regal; upon looking at him, both Sheriff Clearwater and the officer who had stayed with him seemed to relax, as if all the tension had been erased from their bodies.

Sheriff Clearwater cleared his throat. Cadence didn’t know his expressions very well, but she thought he looked startled.

“And you are?”

“Reverend Whitlock.”

“This church is yours, then.”

Reverend Whitlock shook his head. “This church belongs to the Lord, Sheriff. I do, however, manage things within the church and on the church grounds. This graveyard and those who rest here are all under the Lord’s protection.”

Sheriff Clearwater blew out a sigh. “Can I ask what you all were doing tonight? You and the nuns?”

Reverend Whitlock’s face didn’t waver a bit as he said, “We’re having family services at the church today. Everyone in town is inside. They all stopped by after the performance in Spellbound. I, and all the other nuns, have been busy with that. No one left. Not any of the nuns nor any of the people inside.”

“Did you hear any signs of a struggle outside?”

The Reverend paused. “We did. There were screams. The nuns and I were gathering all of those in the church to calm them. I was about to go out and see what the matter was when Mr. Phan came in and told me to stay inside.” He glanced over at Chau’s father briefly. “So I did. I stayed inside.”

“Alright. I get the gist of it.” He looked in the direction Lorelei had said the alleged murderer had gone. “To catch this person, would you cooperate in letting us search the graveyard? We won’t touch anything we shouldn’t.”

Reverend Whitlock’s gaze trailed over to Lorelei who gave a nearly imperceptive nod.

“If you think that will help your investigation, you may look around. But please do not disturb the dead who rest here.”