Witch Doctor

CHAPTER 15 | unfinished business

📎A/N. Hello my lovelies, well it's been one of those weeks you just don't want to open the news paper. It's just as well we have books to immerse ourselves in :)

I'm so excited to be attending my very first writers event next weekend that I just had to share!! There are going to be some wonderful writers and industry insiders running sessions and workshops, and I'm am looking forward to listen to them speak. In particular, Nalini Singh is running one of the sessions *fangirling* so I am clearly going to have to go and buy a physical book for her to sign, as I can't exactly say, hey Ms Singh, can you sign my Kindle ;)

I hope you enjoy this chapter, if you do, don't forget to vote.

Take care and thank you for your continued support.

❤ ℳ

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Keira was numb. She knew things were happening around her, yet they sounded so far away. Not that that mattered, she couldn't hear anything over the dull buzz that hovered over her, refusing to budge, refusing to let her concentrate.

What day of the week is it? It was Friday... is it still Friday? I never liked Friday, it's too close to Monday.

Shapes came in and out of focus as she sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase in Deacon's foyer, and debated the day of the week.

I'm okay with Friday the thirteenth, though, it gets too much bad publicity if you ask me.

Keira felt something cold, and her mind focused on the source. The veil lifted piece by piece until she realised she was holding a glass of water.

"...should relax you."

She frowned, whatever had been said, she'd only caught the tail end. Keira looked up and realised Dayna had been speaking. "I'm sorry," she said shaking her head from side to side as if to wake herself from the nightmare in which she found herself. "What did you say?".

Dayna held out her palm; two small white pills rested side by side. "I said to take these."

"What is it?"

"A sedative—the good kind."

Keira tossed the offered medication in her mouth and washed it down with a half glass of water. She inhaled and filled her lungs to capacity, then let it out slowly. The image of Marcus's broken body swam to the front of her mind, and she let out a half sob.

Dead bodies didn't worry her. She was used to them. Fresh, not so fresh, and everything in-between. However, nothing had prepared her for witnessing her friend's body, violently ripped from this life, decades before he was due.

Dayna took a seat next to Keira. Her forehead puckered, and her eyes turned glassy. "It doesn't get easier with time, does it?" She sighed and lowered her eyes. "You'd think by now we'd be used to it."

She turned and stared into empty space. This has to be a dream; he can't be gone. "How am I going to tell Queenie?" Keira's voice broke with the effort to not close down.

"That's his grandmother, right?"

Keira nodded, and her eyes began to prick at the effort to not break down again.

"Queenie is a New Orleans witch I met just after I returned. She's the one who encouraged me to teach." She took a laboured breath. "This is going to devastate her."

Unable to withstand the pain any longer, Keira let her body mourn in the only way it knew how. Her shoulders slumped, and her body shook with each sob as it tore out of her too tight chest. She continued to weep until her body was too exhausted to shed any more tears.