The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) by April Aasheim
Authors: April Aasheim
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face staring up at me?
I drew up the image of Juliana Benbridge, clutching at her neck.
Oh, god!
I raced up the stairs. At the top, I tapped the flashlight against my palm, returning it to life, then aimed it at the... thing.
It was a head.
A mop head.
I slumped against the doorway, overcome by relieved laughter.
“You're losing it, Maggie,” I said to myself, returning to the living room without a fan.
“Montana,” I whispered. He was as quiet as the mop head. “You're going to laugh at your mommy so hard,” I said, bending over his bassinet. “Or at least you would if you could understand.”
I lifted his blanket, deciding to let him sleep with me. His presence would settle my restless mind.
But when I reached into his bassinet, he was gone.
TEN
Born Under a Bad Sign
“MONTANA? MONTANA?!”
I ransacked his bassinet, churning through blankets and pillows. The moon streaming through the window cast an unearthly glow on the crib, mocking me as I crazily tore apart his bed.
Where was my baby?!
I turned on a lamp, whimpering as I uncovered nothing but a damp sheet. “Montana!” I howled, scrambling around the room.
This couldn't be happening! We were supposed to be safe here!
I scoured the living room, knocking the lamp and an end table over in the process. Everything in the house could break, for all I cared.
Merry and Ruth Anne appeared in their pajamas, rubbing their eyes.
I pointed to the empty crib. “Montana's gone! Do you have him?” They shook their heads. “I don't know where he is. I have no idea where my son is!”
Hysteria consumed me as I continued overturning the room, searching for a clue. “I was looking for a fan in the basement,” I stammered.
I rushed back down to the cellar, stumbling down the stairs. Merry was right behind me, my flashlight in hand. “Maybe I took him with me and left him down here?” I said, kicking the mop head. “I was so tired, I could have.”
“Montana!” I called out again, knocking into boxes and scattering them across the floor. “Please...”
Merry assaulted me with questions. Where did I see him last? Did I check to see if the door was locked? Had I gone anywhere else?
“In his crib. I haven't checked the door. I didn't go anywhere else.” But it wasn't true. I had gone somewhere else––into the globe memory. It was too strange a coincidence to ignore. I turned on her, like a hungry dog. “I told you there is too much magick in this house! And now look what's happened!”
“Calm down, Maggie,” Merry said, following me back to the living room.
Ruth Anne emerged from the kitchen. “Nothing there.”
Merry pointed to the door. “Ruth Anne, check the locks and I’ll check upstairs. Maggie, continue searching this floor. If we don't find him in a few minutes, we'll call Michael and the police.”
I had known fear before, but never like this. I imagined every bad thing that could happen, all happening to my son. In my mind, he was alone and dark and cold, wondering why I wasn't there to protect him. “Montana!” I called again desperately, listening for a coo or a cry in response.
“Mags!” Ruth Anne hollered from the front door. “It's unlocked.”
“M-m-maybe Michael?” I sputtered. I reached for my phone but Ruth Anne held out a hand.
“Let's give it a minute, Mags. We don't want to freak him out, too.”
“So, you don't think Michael has him?”
“I don't know,” she admitted, turning on the porch light and stepping outside. “There's no one out here, but it smells like... what is that?” She chewed on her bottom lip, deliberating the answer. “I think that smell is chocolate, and maybe roses.”
My sister’s face grew troubled and I knew exactly why. Spirits often left scents that reminded them of their time on earth.
“Mother?” I called. “Juliana?”
I ran outside, into the night. The woods opened up around me, like gangsters guarding their turf. Did they hide my baby? A breeze floated by,
I drew up the image of Juliana Benbridge, clutching at her neck.
Oh, god!
I raced up the stairs. At the top, I tapped the flashlight against my palm, returning it to life, then aimed it at the... thing.
It was a head.
A mop head.
I slumped against the doorway, overcome by relieved laughter.
“You're losing it, Maggie,” I said to myself, returning to the living room without a fan.
“Montana,” I whispered. He was as quiet as the mop head. “You're going to laugh at your mommy so hard,” I said, bending over his bassinet. “Or at least you would if you could understand.”
I lifted his blanket, deciding to let him sleep with me. His presence would settle my restless mind.
But when I reached into his bassinet, he was gone.
TEN
Born Under a Bad Sign
“MONTANA? MONTANA?!”
I ransacked his bassinet, churning through blankets and pillows. The moon streaming through the window cast an unearthly glow on the crib, mocking me as I crazily tore apart his bed.
Where was my baby?!
I turned on a lamp, whimpering as I uncovered nothing but a damp sheet. “Montana!” I howled, scrambling around the room.
This couldn't be happening! We were supposed to be safe here!
I scoured the living room, knocking the lamp and an end table over in the process. Everything in the house could break, for all I cared.
Merry and Ruth Anne appeared in their pajamas, rubbing their eyes.
I pointed to the empty crib. “Montana's gone! Do you have him?” They shook their heads. “I don't know where he is. I have no idea where my son is!”
Hysteria consumed me as I continued overturning the room, searching for a clue. “I was looking for a fan in the basement,” I stammered.
I rushed back down to the cellar, stumbling down the stairs. Merry was right behind me, my flashlight in hand. “Maybe I took him with me and left him down here?” I said, kicking the mop head. “I was so tired, I could have.”
“Montana!” I called out again, knocking into boxes and scattering them across the floor. “Please...”
Merry assaulted me with questions. Where did I see him last? Did I check to see if the door was locked? Had I gone anywhere else?
“In his crib. I haven't checked the door. I didn't go anywhere else.” But it wasn't true. I had gone somewhere else––into the globe memory. It was too strange a coincidence to ignore. I turned on her, like a hungry dog. “I told you there is too much magick in this house! And now look what's happened!”
“Calm down, Maggie,” Merry said, following me back to the living room.
Ruth Anne emerged from the kitchen. “Nothing there.”
Merry pointed to the door. “Ruth Anne, check the locks and I’ll check upstairs. Maggie, continue searching this floor. If we don't find him in a few minutes, we'll call Michael and the police.”
I had known fear before, but never like this. I imagined every bad thing that could happen, all happening to my son. In my mind, he was alone and dark and cold, wondering why I wasn't there to protect him. “Montana!” I called again desperately, listening for a coo or a cry in response.
“Mags!” Ruth Anne hollered from the front door. “It's unlocked.”
“M-m-maybe Michael?” I sputtered. I reached for my phone but Ruth Anne held out a hand.
“Let's give it a minute, Mags. We don't want to freak him out, too.”
“So, you don't think Michael has him?”
“I don't know,” she admitted, turning on the porch light and stepping outside. “There's no one out here, but it smells like... what is that?” She chewed on her bottom lip, deliberating the answer. “I think that smell is chocolate, and maybe roses.”
My sister’s face grew troubled and I knew exactly why. Spirits often left scents that reminded them of their time on earth.
“Mother?” I called. “Juliana?”
I ran outside, into the night. The woods opened up around me, like gangsters guarding their turf. Did they hide my baby? A breeze floated by,
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