Read Online The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) by April Aasheim - Free Book Online
Authors: April Aasheim
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took it, shoving it into my skirt pocket, and then slammed the suitcase closed.
“I did love you,” he said, his hand lightly grazing my wrist.
I wrenched my arm away and stood on tiptoes so that we were eye to eye. “Michael. You never loved anybody but yourself.”
“Ready, Sister?” Jason asked, peeking into my bedroom.
I nodded, relieved that he would be the one driving me to the bus station. He offered to take my bags but I shook my head. I wanted to drag it down the stairs myself, listening to the satisfying thump-thump as it hit each step. There were several members gathered by the open front door. I wasn’t sure if they were there to see me off, or to witness a final confrontation between me and Michael. I hugged a few, the long-term members I had practically grown up with, and nodded at the others. I didn’t cry, even as the goodbyes wrenched at my heart.
They would never see me cry.
Leah stood on the second floor, looking over the railing like she was bidding bon voyage on a cruise ship. It took every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep from willing that banister to break. Having Michael would be punishment enough. Let them burn.
I took a last glance at the place I had come to call home and said a silent goodbye. I wasn’t sure what waited for me out there, but there was nothing left for me here.
Jason grabbed my bag, placed it in the back of the van, and opened the passenger door to let me know the time had come. I closed the door to Woodhaven and slid into the passenger seat.
I could feel Michael’s energy emanating from my seat and I almost asked Jason if I could drive instead, but I changed my mind. Though I hated Michael now, there were memories of love intermingled in that energy, and for some odd reason I felt it was important to hold onto that, too. I was full of bad at the moment, and an ounce of good, even if it no longer existed, was my only salvation. I might be grasping at dead straws, but it was all I had.
I removed the crystal from my pocket and placed it around my neck, tucking it inside my shirt. We pulled out of the driveway.
I could see Michael’s silhouette in our bedroom window.
He caught me looking and moved away.
“You’re going to love again,” Jason said as he drove, never taking his eyes off the road. “I promise.”
“I can’t. I won’t go through this again. Ever.”
Jason removed one hand from the wheel and touched my arm reassuringly. I smiled, pulling my lips into an expression they hadn’t experienced in days. But in that smile, I felt a ray of hope. Not for love, but for my life.
“Where will you go?” he asked, Woodhaven becoming a speck behind us.
“I guess I’m going home for now.” It was a temporary stop, but the only place I could think of at the moment. And Merry was there. My beloved Merry had come home, too. Surely, I could handle Dark Root for a few days, just until my head cleared.
I had never seen a bus station. Not up close, anyway.
We had passed a few during our road travels, but we had never slowed down long enough for me to get a good look at one. Michael said that people who traveled by bus were transients with no real goal of settling, so he preferred the pickings at airports.
As Jason heaved my suitcase out of the van, heavy under the weight of too many Yankee Candles, I stopped a moment to take it in. The building was old, probably built at least sixty years before. The stucco was chipping and the color of urine. A skinny, smiling dog on the billboard announced that this was his vehicle of choice, although a sign above the automatic doors read, ‘Service Dogs Only.’
Dozens of people descended upon the station, a few moving hyper-speed while the rest sauntered along zombie-style through the double doors, carrying suitcases, duffel bags, boxes secured with electrical tape, and babies. A frighteningly thin man appeared out of nowhere and offered me assistance with my bag. I politely refused, but he
“I did love you,” he said, his hand lightly grazing my wrist.
I wrenched my arm away and stood on tiptoes so that we were eye to eye. “Michael. You never loved anybody but yourself.”
“Ready, Sister?” Jason asked, peeking into my bedroom.
I nodded, relieved that he would be the one driving me to the bus station. He offered to take my bags but I shook my head. I wanted to drag it down the stairs myself, listening to the satisfying thump-thump as it hit each step. There were several members gathered by the open front door. I wasn’t sure if they were there to see me off, or to witness a final confrontation between me and Michael. I hugged a few, the long-term members I had practically grown up with, and nodded at the others. I didn’t cry, even as the goodbyes wrenched at my heart.
They would never see me cry.
Leah stood on the second floor, looking over the railing like she was bidding bon voyage on a cruise ship. It took every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep from willing that banister to break. Having Michael would be punishment enough. Let them burn.
I took a last glance at the place I had come to call home and said a silent goodbye. I wasn’t sure what waited for me out there, but there was nothing left for me here.
Jason grabbed my bag, placed it in the back of the van, and opened the passenger door to let me know the time had come. I closed the door to Woodhaven and slid into the passenger seat.
I could feel Michael’s energy emanating from my seat and I almost asked Jason if I could drive instead, but I changed my mind. Though I hated Michael now, there were memories of love intermingled in that energy, and for some odd reason I felt it was important to hold onto that, too. I was full of bad at the moment, and an ounce of good, even if it no longer existed, was my only salvation. I might be grasping at dead straws, but it was all I had.
I removed the crystal from my pocket and placed it around my neck, tucking it inside my shirt. We pulled out of the driveway.
I could see Michael’s silhouette in our bedroom window.
He caught me looking and moved away.
“You’re going to love again,” Jason said as he drove, never taking his eyes off the road. “I promise.”
“I can’t. I won’t go through this again. Ever.”
Jason removed one hand from the wheel and touched my arm reassuringly. I smiled, pulling my lips into an expression they hadn’t experienced in days. But in that smile, I felt a ray of hope. Not for love, but for my life.
“Where will you go?” he asked, Woodhaven becoming a speck behind us.
“I guess I’m going home for now.” It was a temporary stop, but the only place I could think of at the moment. And Merry was there. My beloved Merry had come home, too. Surely, I could handle Dark Root for a few days, just until my head cleared.
I had never seen a bus station. Not up close, anyway.
We had passed a few during our road travels, but we had never slowed down long enough for me to get a good look at one. Michael said that people who traveled by bus were transients with no real goal of settling, so he preferred the pickings at airports.
As Jason heaved my suitcase out of the van, heavy under the weight of too many Yankee Candles, I stopped a moment to take it in. The building was old, probably built at least sixty years before. The stucco was chipping and the color of urine. A skinny, smiling dog on the billboard announced that this was his vehicle of choice, although a sign above the automatic doors read, ‘Service Dogs Only.’
Dozens of people descended upon the station, a few moving hyper-speed while the rest sauntered along zombie-style through the double doors, carrying suitcases, duffel bags, boxes secured with electrical tape, and babies. A frighteningly thin man appeared out of nowhere and offered me assistance with my bag. I politely refused, but he
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