Jilo (Witching Savannah #4)(22)

May felt Maguire’s focus return to her. She reached down and wrapped her hands up in the length of her apron, but Maguire snatched up her right hand. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but even though his lower extremities had failed him, his hands revealed a steely strength. He watched the sparkles with an enraptured glee in his eyes.

“Yes, I knew old Tuesday was lying,” he said, turning May’s hand over so that he could see the palm. He traced the crease of her hand with his index finger, then leaned forward and attempted to kiss her palm. May’s revulsion was so complete that it gave her the added strength she needed to break free. In the same movement, she scooted her chair back a good two feet.

The old man tilted back, his eyes widening for a moment in anger, but then a hearty laugh broke free from him.

“I don’t use it.” May tried to make the statement sound matter-of-fact. Final. “I promised Mama.”

“Well, your mama is longer here. I’ve been bound to this damn chair since the day Tuesday left this world. She tried to take me with her, but all she managed to do was this.” He pulled the blanket covering his legs to one side and slapped his hand angrily against his unusable limbs. “She took my legs.” He hesitated. “And she took my power. Now you,” his right eye twitched as he spoke, “you’re gonna help fix what your mama done broke.”

He’s the one, May thought. This is the man my mother died trying to stop. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t. A vow is a vow, whether she is with us or not. She made me promise not to make the same deal she had made.” Even though May knew the other staff must have been ordered to stay away from the dining room, she still cast a nervous glance around before continuing. “My mama said she made a deal with the devil to use her magic. She made me promise I wouldn’t do as she done.”

Maguire pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward, his body convulsing, and at first May thought he had developed a coughing jag. When he sat back up, tears of laughter were rolling down his flushed cheeks. “Oh, my dear girl,” he said after he managed to catch his breath. “A deal with the devil?” He paused. “If only it were anywhere near that easy.”

“No, sir.” She shook her head. “No, sir. I want nothing of it. I’ve never used it. I never will.” She focused on the floor, not daring to look him in the eye.

“You used magic last night, May.” His words came out in a slow grumble. “I can smell it on you.”

May realized her head continued to shake as she spoke. “No, sir. It wasn’t me. Whatever you think I did, it wasn’t me.” May did her best to recompose herself. She forced a smile and smoothed her skirt, preparing to stand and make her exit.

“That’s the way with your kind, always lying when the truth would serve you better.” He paused, as if giving her a chance to confess, and then boomed out, “I saw you there with my own two eyes,” any pretense of civility cast aside. May startled in spite of herself. His face was nearly purple with rage.

May was an honest woman. It pained her to tell a lie, let alone be caught in one, even by a man such as this one. “Only a little. Last night was different. It was the first time. The only time. I was so afraid . . .” May’s word died in the air as she wondered again at the Maguires’ role in the events of the previous night. The father could never have managed it. The son was graceless. He could never had entered and exited with such stealth. Still, if they hadn’t done it themselves, they’d arranged for it to happen. They couldn’t have relied on magic, for the haint blue her mama had made her use at every entrance and window would’ve kept hostile magic from creeping in. No, it could only have been a flesh-and-blood intruder. May wished she knew how they’d worked it, if only to prevent it from happening again. But she dared not even confront them with their crime.

Maguire disregarded her silence. “And still, first time out, you achieved outstanding results.”

May’s knees went weak, too weak to stand. She drew her arms around herself, folding them over her chest as if to protect her heart. “Yes. I used it last night. Somehow. But I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know anything about the magic, sir. Mama, she never explained it to me.” May thought of the creature who had come to her at the edge of the clearing. She came close to mentioning her, but something told her to hold her tongue. “It just happened, like it’s happening now.” When she held up her hand, the sparks were still shooting along her fingertips. “I don’t know anything about it at all.”

“What is the source of your magic?”

“I . . .” May’s lips moved, but it took a while for her words to catch up. “I don’t know.”

Maguire’s anger faded as quickly as it had been kindled. “No, maybe you don’t,” he said and chuckled. He looked over his shoulder at Sterling. “What do you think, boy? You think she’s telling us the truth?”

“I am, Mr. Maguire. I swear it. I am sorry for any difficulties between you and my mama, but I’ll never be any trouble to you.” She forced a smile again, grateful that the tingling in her hands was starting to fade and the tiny sparks were once again disappearing. “You got nothing to worry about from May. Nothing at all.”

May’s eyes drifted up to the younger man’s face. As their eyes met, May searched for even the tiniest spark of humanity. She found only ice. “I believe her,” he said.