Chapter Twenty-Two—Sweeny

Sweeny locked Lucas’ front door and slid to the floor, not that locking it would really help them, but it made her feel better. Her neck throbbed underneath her bandage and she felt dizzy.

“So why am I not turning into a wolf?” she asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

Lucas bent down in front of her. “It won’t hit until tomorrow. Things are gonna be so different,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, cher. I wish I could take it back.”

Sweeny’s bottom lip trembled. “I wanted it to be intimate. Just you and me.”

Lucas nodded. “I know. Me too.

Theo cleared his throat. “Not to break up the love fest but we need to figure out how we’re going to handle this. It won’t be long before he comes for her. He can’t raise this Mena person without Sweeny.”

Lucas helped her up.

She thought her first time in his house would be different. Maybe a little liquid courage and candles? Clothes flying. Not plans to murder a homicidal witch.

She followed them to the open spaced living room and sat on his sectional, feeling small.

“How do we know to trust Gran?” Lucas asked.

Theo glanced at Sweeny. “It was my idea. I knew Kurt knew about y’all, so it was the only place I could think to go.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

“What if we dig her up?” Theo asked. “And stake her.”

“Do you know where she is?” Lucas asked Sweeny.

“In the bayou?” she said with a shrug. “I don’t know where, but maybe I could try to communicate with her?”

“It’s worth a try, right?” Theo asked.

Sweeny stood up. “Let’s go then.”

Theo bounded out of the front door, but Lucas lingered behind with her. “Cher, don’t go trying be a hero for me, alright? If we find her, no matter what, you kill her, yeah? She’s gonna use us against you—already tried to.”

Sweeny glanced up at his green eyes. “I can’t lose my mate after he changed me,” she said.

“Did I hit you?” he asked, his fingers rubbing against her bruised skin.

“A little, but I’m fine,” she said. “Don’t worry. Now—let’s go kill this witch.”

They walked down to the bayou where Theo stood on the dock. A heavy, humid wind blew against her warmed skin. Dark clouds made their way overhead, casting shadows over the water.

Sweeny swallowed her nerves and stepped onto the dock. Water splashed at the wood beneath her.

She could only imagine what waited in the depths for her. She sunk to her knees, placing her palms against the worn wood. The swaying water stilled and the atmosphere calmed.

It felt so hot that her breath stuck in her throat.

Vibrations traveled up her hands and warmed her chest. Her T-shirt clung to her shoulders from sweat. Nothing happened.

She pressed her eyes closed tighter, envisioning the woman on the island and her voice. Nothing.

Sweeny sat back on her feet and looked over her shoulder at Theo and Lucas. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Put yo feet in the water. The gator came to you that way last time.”

She didn’t particularly want another encounter with an alligator, but what did she have to lose besides her toes? She slipped her tennis shoes off and dipped a toe into the hot bayou.

The wind picked up and water lapped at her legs.

“Oh my God,” Lucas called out from behind her.

She opened her eyes. He stared at the same beam of light she witnessed that day in the boat. Sweeny swallowed her nerves and slipped in.

“Sweeny,” he warned.

“I have to go toward the light. It’s her.”

“You’ll drown,” Theo said. “The bayou is deep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She felt she'd be all right, but didn't exactly know why or how. Momma always called her a mermaid growing up for her love of water, but she wouldn't place in any breath-holding contest.

The water guided her deeper until she waded, her toes not touching the bottom. For a brief moment, she felt like Moana. If only a dead witch didn’t wait for her at the bottom.

With a look over her shoulder, she took a breath and dove deep. The murky water cleared enough for her to follow the beams. Sweeny’s breath didn’t run out, in fact, she didn’t need to breathe. She swam deeper and deeper into the depths until a drum sounded against her ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She stopped at the bottom where the beams burned bright. Murk and slime covered what looked like a coffin. She knew Mena—the wicked witch of the bayou—was buried for a good reason, and she shouldn’t let her out, but there was no other choice.

She couldn’t release Jeremy or save her new town without killing her.

Bracing her hands around the edge of the stone, she pulled with no luck.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Sweeny closed her eyes, braced her palms against the heavy stone cover and screamed. There was no rhyme or reason for the things she did, but she knew to do them.

The stone casket ruptured, sending Sweeny and half the bayou flying. She didn’t have experience soaring through the air but no worry rushed her as she slammed against a tree and fell.

Gasping for breath, she pushed her wet hair from her eyes, and with the help of the tree, stood up. Loud footsteps neared and Lucas raced to her, examining her from head to toe.

“Are you okay, cher? What happened?”

“I opened the tomb and was pushed out of the bayou. Did you see anything come out?”

He shook his head. “No, let’s go back to the dock.”

They walked through the trees toward Lucas’ back yard. Sweeny didn’t know how she did any of that but she felt—empowered somehow. It felt wrong. She felt wrong.

“Something isn’t right,” she whispered.

Lucas stopped. “What is it?”

Sweeny stumbled toward the ground, crawling out of the woods. Lucas bent down and picked her up, shaking her in his arms. “What is it? Tell me.”

Her voice broke. A deep ache started in her stomach. This was the end. Mena would kill her because she was free, and that's all she wanted.

Lucas walked with her toward the dock, whispering that she would be okay, and to hold on for just a bit longer.

When he jolted to a stop, he shouted, “No!”

Sweeny looked over with heavy eyes. Two figures stood in the distance but a film filled her gaze, making it hard to see. “What is it?”

Lucas’ grip tightened. “Let him go, now.”

A soft voice answered, “Trade you, cher?”

Sweeny knew that voice—it’d called to her on several occasions.

“Put him down, witch!”

Sweeny moved to get down but Lucas held her tight. “I can’t see,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

The blur answered. “Give her to me and I’ll take away her pain. I need insurance.”

“I’m not giving anyone to you,” he spat. Lucas braced his palm on Sweeny’s neck and her sight brightened.

“So you two are mates?” Mena asked.

Sweeny rubbed her eyes, and clung to Lucas’ shoulders, as he let her down. She watched in fear as Lucas took on her pain, his eyes slowly closing from the pressure. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Kill her,” he whispered.

Sweeny wrapped her arm around his shoulder and looked over to the woman standing on the dock. She was beautiful.

She wore her hair long, down to her waist, and it shimmered a deep black in the sun. Something about her eyes looked so familiar and almost kind.

“What do you want?” Sweeny asked. “I’ve released you. That’s what you wanted, right? That’s the reason you’ve sent me through Hell. Now release my friend.”

She glanced at Theo, who was elevated above the dock by Mena’s outstretched hand. “You don’t know yet, do you?”

Sweeny watched Theo’s face turn redder, his feet swinging in the air, as she strangled the life from him with her fingertips. “Drop him and we’ll talk.”

“We’re talking now,” she said.

Lucas began to shake beside her. “Don’t shift.”

“She’s right, Lucas. Don’t shift. I won’t kill your mate if you both cooperate, but I can’t promise anything for his fleabag friends. Rougarous have never been my forte. Especially in Abita Springs. I don’t know what it is about this town that screams supernatural. Maybe it’s the amount of voodoo or the closeness to South America—”

“What do you want?” Sweeny asked loudly.

The crow that followed Sweeny cawed from an overhanging tree and flew toward Mena, landing on her shoulder. “That’s cuter when a parrot does it,” Sweeny said.

Mena’s laugh sounded like a song. “You’re funny. I didn’t think I would like you to be honest. When I felt you move here—I knew it was time. I thought it’s been decades; hopefully, she isn’t a whiney little witch. You’re better than I expected.”

“Let Theo go, please. I’ll do anything that you ask.”

Mena slung Theo to the ground. He gasped for breath, holding his throat and rolling around in the grass. Sweeny swallowed her nerves.

“So the crows and animals? That’s you?” she asked.

“That’s you, too. You could communicate if you knew how—I can teach you. They were attempts to talk to you but you kept running away from them. So, I took bigger measures and brought in the woman at the museum to keep silver on you, which didn’t work, and then I brought in the kid. I had no idea you already mated. It complicates things.” She glanced at Lucas with a tilted head. “I tried to get a cute one, but I can see why you weren’t impressed when you have him.”

Lucas stepped closer to Sweeny. “She—she smells normal,” whispered.

Sweeny glanced up at him.

Mena laughed. “It takes a lot of practice and patience to be able to hide yourself from other supernaturals. I can show you, Sweeny, how to disguise yourself. I can show you many things. I’ve had a long time to do that, granted that I’ve been buried deep beneath the bayou for decades, because some selfish pricks won’t let me run the town.” She tsked and stopped in front of her.

“I need your help. I need you to let my soul inside,” she said. “Or," she said, holding up a finger. "I can just take your power and call it a day. But with you being family, I wanted to give you a choice." She looked her up and down. "You're cute enough to reside in for a while, if you're up to sharing yourself."

“I'm flattered," Sweeny said. "And I wouldn’t call a long descendant family, per se,” Sweeny said with a shaky voice.

She stepped back into Lucas and he held her elbows tight, whispering into her ear, “Be strong, cher. If she could willingly take over your body, she would have already done it.”

Mena laughed. “You think you’re smart, huh? I could kill you both with a flick of my hand.”

“But you haven’t because you need her,” Lucas spit. “She isn’t letting you do anything to her. She’s my mate and I’m going to protect her, yeah?”

Mena rolled her eyes. “Dramatics. It’s a shame you’re so good-looking, if you weren’t so head over heels for my niece, I’d say you could take me inside. It’s been a while.”

Niece.

“You’re my dad’s sister? How? He can’t be as old as you,” Sweeny said. “Do you know where he is?”

Mena furrowed her brow and laughed. “Your dad is a piece of crap. I told your mother not to get with him. I guess you could say communication from the tomb was a little vague. However, love always blinds those silly enough to believe it, right? Something always felt off about your father. He almost fooled her. Almost talked her into killing me, but she didn’t. She took you and vanished instead."

Sweeny wrapped her arms around her stomach because she felt the urge to vomit. “Momma is—Momma is a witch?”

“You suck,” someone yelled from the top of the hill.

Momma descended in her normal worn jeans and T-shirt. The only difference was her hair that hung loosely down her back in chocolate waves.

“I told you I would tell her when the time was right, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”

Sweeny backed away from Momma and into Lucas. The betrayal tasted like acid in her throat. None of this was an accident. Their move to Abita Springs. Momma keeping her dad from her.

“Momma,” she whispered.

She glanced over—and Sweeny realized why Mena looked so familiar in her eyes, because she’d looked into an identical set for seventeen-years of her life.

Momma crossed her arms. “Ah, don’t be mad, Sweeny. I couldn’t tell you, especially you being half your dad. He always wanted to do the right thing. I couldn’t risk you using your powers on Mena or me. I’m not as strong as you are. I haven’t practiced anything besides speaking to Mena on occasions, and disappearing from your father, in decades."

Decades.

Her mother was nineteen when Sweeny was born—how? Oh God, everything was a lie.

“I couldn’t have done this without your mom’s—excuse me, you call her Momma, right?—but I couldn’t have done it without her help. She’s the one that told me you hate snakes, and it would get your attention.”

Sweeny’s breakfast threatened her throat.

“Leave,” Sweeny hissed.

Momma glanced at Mena and elbowed her. “Here comes the high horse, I told you.”

“Get out of here. I hate you both. I won’t let either of you take over my body or destroy this town.”

Mena sighed heavily and waved her hand, slinging Sweeny against a tree. Lucas raced toward her but Momma easily took him down, keeping his wrist bound with roots that raised from the Earth beneath him.

With only two tricks up her sleeve, she knew taking them out wouldn’t be easy. Impossible probably.

“I hate you both.”

“You could live forever, Sweeny. I’ve been alive for so long, and I’ve seen the world change and grow. It’s fascinating. Don’t try to be the hero your dad couldn’t be,” Momma said.

She swallowed. Mena tightened her fist and it squeezed Sweeny tighter against the tree bark. All her friend’s faces flashed across her mind. If she let Momma or Mena do this, they’d kill them. They’d take over this town and take it to Hell.

She tightened her own fist, and pulled until she broke free from the invisible restraints.

Momma lifted her nose and zeroed in on Sweeny’s neck. “Did that limp dick bite you?”

Limp dick? This wasn’t Momma, was it? She never talked like this. It was a dream. A nightmare. How had she hidden all of this from her?

“Great. I told you to take him out, Melody,” she hissed. “But you thought her first romance was cute. Now look, he’s keeping her strong.”

Momma rolled her eyes. “She is my daughter, and I thought she had better sense than to let him bite her. Dammit. She would have known that something was wrong if I told her to stay away from the kid. That’s not me.”

“Stop whining,” Mena said to Momma. “Now you’re gonna turn into one of those things, Sweeny.” Mena said. “We can try to work on a cure. You’re really gonna hate all that hair—”

Sweeny swung her arm. An avalanche of rocks from—she had no idea where—buried her Aunt.

Mena groaned, freeing herself easily. “Don’t be cute.”

Mena gripped her neck from afar and brought her inches above the ground. “Don’t hurt her,” Momma said. “You promised just to take her power, not harm her.”

“I won’t. I can’t hurt her and take her power. I want it all—not just what’s left after a beating.”

Sweeny looked down at Lucas who struggled to get lose, his mouth and wrists bound with thick roots. His eyes screamed for her. The imaginary hands around her throat tightened, sending red into her vision. She’d be damned if either of these people—her Momma or not—would get the best of her.

With all her strength she screamed, the hands released her and Momma and Mena fell to the ground, covering their ears.

Lucas ripped the roots from his throat and wrists, slinging them away and shifted. Sweeny’s scream ended and she stumbled backward, feeling dizzy.

“God,” Momma said. “She got that from Mother. I always hated that scream.”

Mena stood up to fix her hair and torn white dress. “Me too. It was always uncalled for when we were in trouble.”

Sweeny’s bottom lip trembled at their nonchalance. Movement from the water drew her attention. The alligator from the other day watched them from the water’s edge, but this time she heard him. It must be the wolf in her now. Mena helped Momma up. “We’re gonna have to restrain her—

Sweeny glanced at the alligator and wished for him to attack them. It was worth a shot, right? Slowly he eased from the water’s edge, watching as he stalked Mena.

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” Mena said. “About—” she drifted off as he approached her. Then another.

Momma laughed. “Are you doing that, Sweet Girl? You’ve inherited it all.”

Sweeny didn’t answer; she stared at Momma as if she was a stranger. “I don’t know you.”

Momma frowned. “Not really, no.”

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“You’ll get over it,” she hissed, waving her hand, she slung Sweeny against the murky bank. Water lapped at her head while Sweeny watched Mena try to fight off the alligator and Lucas.

Theo got up from the ground and shifted. Lucas grabbed Mena’s shoulders and slung her to the ground, which made her laugh turn into a scream, as his claws tore into her flesh.

All Sweeny’s sweet memories of her erratic mother surfaced. The smell of her cooking and her encouraging words at the start of each school year. Was her entire life a lie?

She stared up at her, hoping to see another person, dilated eyes or a cursed woman. It wasn’t. It was her own mother—Momma.

“This is what you want for me?” she asked. “To be powerless for your own sister?”

“This is bigger than you know,” Momma said, leaning over her. “Now close your eyes—so we can make it quick for you.”

Momma closed her eyes in concentration. Sweeny braced herself for impact, but no magic came. That's when she noticed an arrow sticking out from her collarbone. She hissed deep, grabbing the end, she broke it off and looked.

“Patrick.”

Sweeny sat up on her elbows, seeing a hooded figure standing at the edge of the woods. He took off his hood and her blood ran cold. It was the man from the Polaroid in Momma’s shoebox.

The kid next to him, she knew. Kurt Farmington. How did they know each other?

Momma groaned loudly. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

Patrick loaded his bow and aimed it toward Mena. She shrieked, trying to get loose from Theo’s grasp, struggling, she moved enough that the arrow hit her in the stomach. Sweeny wasn't sure if he missed or not, but it didn't kill her like Sweeny hoped.

Momma yelled and raced toward her sister, falling to the ground and pulling her onto her lap.

Lucas and Theo stopped their attack on Mena, and Lucas raced toward Sweeny. She stood up, soaked in mud and slime. Her knees felt weak. Should she speak to her dad or run away with Lucas forever?

Lucas shifted back to his form quickly, looking Sweeny over as tears whelmed in her eyes. “Is that gonna kill Momma?”

“I don’t know, cher, but I bet he does.”

Patrick stood in the same spot as before, taking in the scene in front of him. He didn't look shocked, so Sweeny suspected he knew everything. She walked toward him, listening to the screams of Momma trying to pull the arrow from Mena’s gut.

Patrick was tall, with shoulder length dark hair. His skin matched hers. He didn’t smile at her with his mouth but with his eyes. “Sweeny,” he said.

“Patrick?” she asked.

He nodded. “I got your voicemail. I tried to call you back but you didn’t answer.”

“You ignored that call in the woods,” Theo said.

“I did. We were preoccupied at the moment."

Patrick loaded his bow and glanced over Sweeny's shoulder at the two of them.

“Is that gonna kill, Momma?” she asked.

Patrick shook his head. “It’s laced with acid. It can’t kill them—the only thing that can kill them is a stake to the heart,” he said looking into her eyes. “We need to talk, because I don't want to kill your mother without a chat first."

Sweeny's heart plummeted into her stomach. Kill Momma? How would she live with herself if she agreed to have her mother killed? Why didn't he just do it? Was he scared Sweeny would retaliate?

"It will wound them. They won’t be down for long, so we need to get you out of here.”

“Where? I can’t leave.”

He swallowed. “They can’t take your power, Sweeny. They’ll slowly destroy the town if so.”

“I can’t just leave? I don’t even know you,” she said. “And how do you know Kurt? What kind of sideshow is this?”

“We have a lot to talk about,” Patrick said, his eyes shifting to Lucas.

“This is Lucas LeBlanc.”

“I knew your granddaddy,” he said. “And I have to tell you that I don’t approve of this,” he said, gesturing toward the two of them.

Sweeny laughed. “Yeah? I guess you lost that right when you decided to ignore me all my life. And,” she said, pushing back her hair. “it’s a little too late for that.”

Kurt leaned in and whispered, “Told you.”

“Told him what? That your Gran said for him to bite me? Now I’m gonna wake up a rougarou without my Momma.”

Sweeny wasn’t the one to feel sad for herself, but she did today.

“Don’t you take her, Patrick,” Momma yelled from behind them. Sweeny glanced back at Momma holding Mena’s shoulders in her lap. Mena looked half-dead but moved every so often in pain. Blood soaked her midsection from the arrow and claw marks covered her arms and face.

Patrick didn’t respond, he turned and stared at Lucas’ house. “Are you human?”

“Yes, I'm a hunter.”

“Of what? Witches?”

“The supernatural,” he answered.

Leaves snapped in the woods to their right and Jaxon ran toward them. Chains rattled as his neared them, and hung from his wrist and ankles, his eyes a familiar deep black. “Mena,” he said, still under the curse.

Pissed, Sweeny waved her hand. The wind slapped Jaxson so hard that he fell to the ground. When he glanced up, his face looked shocked but normal.

That had been a long time coming.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Come on,” Lucas said. “We need to talk to your dad.”

Theo helped Jaxson up behind them.

Sweeny glanced over her shoulder at Momma dragging Mena toward the bayou, her eyes burning her way. Sweeny snarled and flipped her off. Lying witch.