Blood Moon (Book Three - The Ravenscliff Series) by Geoffrey Huntington Page A

up her rage. She moved down the stairs, her voice icy but her eyes filled with fire. “The last time you were here,” she seethed, “I told you never to come back.”
    “But I had to bring Devon a birthday present,” Rolfe said innocently.
    She stood in front of him. “I suppose it will be some magical trinket that will only encourage him in practicing what I have forbidden.”
    “Now, now, Amanda,” Rolfe said. “Can we all just be civil for the boy’s sake? I mean, it is his birthday.”
    Mrs. Crandall’s lips tightened as she looked from Rolfe to Devon. “Give him the gift and then go.”
    “May we go into the parlor, at least? Standing here in the foyer seems so formal.”
    She just sighed. They all proceeded into the parlor, Devon’s heart pounding in his chest. He wished Rolfe would cut the act and just get to it.
    He didn’t have to wait long.
    “By the way, Amanda,” Rolfe said as the mistress of the house sat down in her wingback chair, “have you heard from Clarissa?”
    Devon watched the expression on Mrs. Crandall’s face. She was emotionless, just staring at Rolfe coldly. She betrayed nothing.
    “Clarissa is dead,” she finally said, “and you of all people should know that.”
    “So it’s been her ghost banging on the walls these past few weeks?” Rolfe asked.
    Mrs. Crandall’s eyes shifted over to Devon.
    “I’m sorry,” the teenager said. “I had to tell him. I saw her again today, Mrs. Crandall. And she told me her name.”
    “She is insane,” she said calmly. “You know that, Devon.”
    Rolfe was standing over her, glaring down. “So you’re denying that your mystery lady is in fact Clarissa Jones?”
    “Our mystery lady has the powers of a sorceress,” Mrs. Crandall said, still apparently unperturbed, though Devon’s Nightwing ears could detect a racing heartbeat. “Did you ever know Clarissa to have powers?”
    “None,” Rolfe admitted. “Except the ability to bewitch a boy who was otherwise in love with you.”
    At that Mrs. Crandall could keep her composure no longer. She stood, pushing past Rolfe and striding across the room. “This is all nonsense!” she said, her voice shrill, her hands quavering. “Give Devon his birthday present and then go.”
    “Not until you tell me the truth, Amanda.” Rolfe’s voice was cold and final. “I went to jail for ten years for Clarissa’s death. If she’s out there, she will come to me. Tell me the truth now, Amanda, before I learn it on my own!”
    “ All right !” Mrs. Crandall spun around to face him. “Yes, that was Clarissa! Yes, I kept her here secretly all these years! What do you propose to do about it, Rolfe?”
    He smiled evilly. “Maybe give you a taste of what I went through for those ten years. Perjury is a crime, Amanda.”
    “I testified that I saw you driving, which I did,” she said, defiant. “No perjury involved.”
    “That’s a lie and you know it. It must have been Clarissa who was driving!”
    She laughed at him. “You were so drunk that you couldn’t even walk!”
    “But hiding Clarissa here when I was on trial for her death—”
    Mrs. Crandall pushed away from him again, moving across the room with the forcefulness of a cheetah. Devon jumped out of her way.
    “Clarissa didn’t return until after my testimony, after your trial was all over. I had no idea until that point that she was alive.” She turned to glare at Rolfe, then over at Devon. “Imagine my surprise when she showed up at the front door.”
    “Where had she been?” Devon ventured to ask.
    “She could never tell us,” Mrs. Crandall said. “She was insane. The shock of the accident, I suppose.”
    “And her powers?” Devon asked. “How did she get them?”
    “Again, we never knew,” Mrs. Crandall said. “All I know is that when she came back to Ravenscliff she was a different person—and she went straight to the portal in the West Wing and tried to open the Hell Hole! She was obsessed with the idea of it.