Water’s Edge (A Series of Sharp Edges #1)

31. Mattie

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

mattie

T he frost-covered branches hang all around me, sending drifts of snow tumbling to the ground as I make my way through them. Thorns from the bramble snag and tear at the flimsy white cotton of my nightgown and bare skin. Everything about the dream feels hauntingly familiar, except I’m not running. Anxiety doesn’t gnaw at my bones. Instead, a sense of knowing seeps into them. I continue to walk towards the clearing I know waits for me. Every breath rises in a puff of steam that fades as I pass through it.

When I reach the treeless patch of woods, I’m not alone. The clearing is lit, snow reflecting bright white, though no light makes it through the cover of the trees. The witch stands in the center. Her silvery hair lightly sways in the winter breeze. Small pools of melted ice surround her bare feet where they touch the frozen ground, as though she’s been standing there awhile, waiting for me. “Child,” she speaks, her voice amplified in the small space. “It’s almost time.”

I nod my head in response, though I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to. My feet drag me closer to her, one careful step at a time until I can see her white eyes through strands of hair. Snow falls around us but doesn’t stick to any part of her. It seems to move around her before making its way to the ground.

“A promise was given,” she says, quieter now that I’m inches from her. “Your fate sealed.” Her mouth widens, revealing teeth that are yellowed and either broken or missing entirely. Unease pools in my stomach and slithers out to every muscle, tying them in knots.

“You knew?” I ask, my words barely a whisper. I’m afraid the wind will carry them away and she won’t hear them at all. I reach out to her but recoil my arm when I see shadow-like veins crawling under my skin.

“I did.” She clucks her tongue, the noise sharp against the deafening silence. “Some puzzles are meant for the pieces to solve.” The words spin inside my head. Anger rises from my chest to my throat, but she clucks her tongue again and shakes her head.

“The relic?” The question comes out choked. The words are forced to move around the scream I’m holding at bay.

“It’s back in its rightful place with the beings it came from.” My eyes go wide. “But not the one from which it came. However, the promise still stands.” Relief from the answer to my unspoken question washes over me. It wasn’t him. A thousand more questions invade my mind, but I know that’s not why I’m here.

“Why?” My voice crackles and my body trembles, though I’m not sure if it’s from her words or the cold.

“Some make deals for power and others for revenge, each cursed. You, my child, must bear the burden of both sides of a deal you did not make, but one you were destined to fulfill.” She turns her head and points with one spindly finger. My gaze follows it to a small pool of water in the snow that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Look.”

My legs follow her orders, turning me towards the pool. I try to fight against it, but I only manage to drag my feet as my body continues to shuffle forward. As I get close enough to see my reflection, antlers appear in the water, giving way to the skull of a deer staring back at me. Between the antlers sits a crown of rusted barbed wire and tangled vines. Green light burns in the black sockets. Shadow and mist swirl through a storm of thorned branches and bramble where my body should be. I scream, but there’s only silence. My lips form the words to call for Ripp, but I’m met with only more nothingness. I want to claw at the invasion of a body that’s not my own, but my arms refuse to move.

“It’s time.” The witch’s words ring in my ears. The vial against my chest shatters, shooting tiny shards of glass into my skin, hot liquid searing through my veins.

I bolt upright. A piercing wail erupts, pushed out by the force of my entire chest. Ripp throws his arms around me protectively, clutching me to his chest. He holds me as my frantic breaths slow and I adjust to my surroundings. I’m no longer in the coldness of the woods but the safety of my bed. I turn in his arms and stare up into his questioning gaze. “The witch,” I say, closing my eyes. I squeeze them shut tightly as I try to hold on to the disappearing threads of the dream.

Ripp’s body tenses at the mention of the witch, but he waits for me to continue. I sigh, opening my eyes again. The room around us is still dark. “She said she knew. She knew about me and the relic.” Ripp growls, his chest rumbling against my face. “She kept mentioning a promise and that it was time.”

“Fucking hag,” he snarls and spits each word. “Must have slipped her ancient fucking mind.” He’s seething. I feel his muscles ripple as they flex beneath me, like he’s ready to pounce on her if she dares to appear in this room.

A sob slips from my throat, and I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

“I might.” Ripp’s voice lowers and grows dark. “I found something in the papers from the boxes. I was waiting for a better time, but there might not be one.” His words are ominous and hang heavy between us.

I want to scream at him, demand to know why he didn’t tell me earlier, but I’m too exhausted to put up the fight. “What?” I croak instead. Several moments go by, like he’s trying to decide if it’s too late to change his mind.

“Your father and the sheriff knew each other.” The confession hits me like a rock to my temple. I stare at him, dazed, silently hoping he’ll both stop and continue. My need to know wars with the part of me that wants my past to stay dead and buried. “They were part of some group.”

“The Revelators,” I whisper. The word tumbles out of my mouth from some memory that has scratched its way to the surface. It triggers a visceral reaction that slides through me like poison. Bile churns in my empty stomach, and I hold back a gag. “I remember the name now.”

Ripp nods his head and releases one arm to grab a small notebook from the nightstand. A shudder rolls through him. “There were pictures of children, Mattie. Cutouts of stories with names that matched each one. All of them reported as missing.”

Each detail adds to the unease swirling inside me. Nausea racks its way through my body, and I throw a hand over my mouth. Ripp waits for me to sink back into him before he continues.

“Not all of my kind feed on the parasites of humanity.” His words are slow, making sure each one sinks in, like he’s hoping he won’t have to spell it out to me in more detail. I give him a nod then bury my face in my hands. “You did the world a favor by wiping them out of existence.”

I take long, deliberate breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. Even the air I force into my lungs feels like it’s drowning me. My teeth chatter, rattling the spiraling thoughts around in my skull. “The witch—she said the relic was in exchange for a promise, a promise I was fated to keep.”

“Fucking useless,” Ripp shouts, slamming the book against his thigh. I shake at his sudden outburst, and he pulls me tighter to him. “I should have known she was playing us like pawns in some cosmic fucking game of hers.”

His grip on my side loosens, and he uses the other to open the book between us. I lift enough so I can stare down at it, unsure if I even want the knowledge it might hold. Ripp flips to a page towards the end, and I recognize my ma’s handwriting. Her scrawl is messy, like she was in a hurry to get each word onto the page.

My Dear Mattie Mae,

I’m not sure if you’ll ever read this. My hope is that you’ll find it once I’m gone so ya stand a chance at knowin’ the truth. I’m not much longer for this world. The weight of my sins hangs too heavy upon my soul to continue this way.

There’s a great evil in your pa. I’ve watched it festerin’ in him more each day. The children. God rest their souls. I couldn’t save them, but I’m hopin’ I can still save you.

The darkness came to Ezra, an old horned god banished to these woods. I told him it was the devil, temptin’ us with a life beyond the simple one we’re livin.’ But he kept feedin’ and feedin’ it until one day, that wasn’t good enough no more. No. He wanted somethin’ else. He wanted you. A baby born to this world just for him. Born in blood and water, he said. Born to bring tragedy to all who crossed their path before returnin’ to the woods from which it came.

Ezra said it was a price worth payin.’ But I saw it for what it was: a devil’s trap. It’s in the name of the woods after all—Hellsmouth. But then I saw the darkness in you too, Mattie. And I knew. Knew these woods were comin’ for us all.

I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

Ma

Tears roll down my cheeks, falling onto the same page her tears stained before mine. They gave me away. They brought me into this world knowing what I’d become. In exchange for what? A broken piece of antler? For my pa to be able to commit atrocities without consequence?

Ripp’s warm lips against my cheek break my spiral. My breathing sputters as I try to steady myself. I slam the journal shut and throw it across the room, like it could make her letter to me less true. “Your mother birthed war but expected to raise peace,” Ripp whispers into my skin. “But I’ve found you now. You’ve always been my angel of death.”

A sense of knowing mixes in like cool water through the fiery river of rage flowing through my veins. I’ve never felt like I was a part of this world because I was never made for it. I was born to bring chaos and destruction to those who wronged me, to rid the world of those who created me. The knowledge lifts the veil of guilt I’ve covered myself in and, for once, I don’t feel like a stranger in my own skin. It doesn’t ease the pain of betrayal from those who were supposed to protect me, but it dulls it to a soft hum.

I turn into Ripp and let him hold me until the morning light begins to stream in through the curtains. The moment is broken by the noise of cars pulling in on the gravel outside the cabin. Both our bodies tense, neither wanting to let go.

“Mattie Mae Gibson, come out with your hands where we can see ‘em,” a sheriff’s deputy’s voice blares across a speaker, shattering the morning silence. A roar begins to rumble in Ripp’s chest, but I place a palm on it and shake my head.

“We both know how this ends.” My eyes are wide, pleading with him to let me do this my way. To go out with dignity, knowing they didn’t extinguish my fire. I clutch the vial necklace tightly in one fist. He gives me one long, last glance before disappearing out the window to watch from the woods.

This is it. I can only hope my last breath will be a sigh of relief.