Lenora's Grimoire

Chapter Fifteen

Lenora's scream echoed as Cherish felt herself yanked backwards—out of the cottage, out of the hallucination—forcefully. She found that she was breathing heavily and had somehow managed to land at the bottom step of the library. She was aware of a dull throb in the thigh pressed against the concrete, but she was too preoccupied with what she'd seen to worry about it.

Blood. There had been blood.

Lenora had reached for Ethan, and the man—

"He killed Ethan," she choked out.

"Cherish, what are you talking about? Are you sure you're alright?"

Raven's voice pulled her from the last remnant of the stupor she'd been in.

Cherish glanced up, finding Raven standing nearby. He looked startled—and incredibly concerned.

It had also grown incredibly dark incredibly fast. The streetlamps flickered on, filtering weak warm light onto the sidewalks of main street.

Cherish wasn't entirely surprised at how dark it had gotten. She lost track of time incredibly easily with all the hallucinations Lenora had put her through.

She sucked in a deep breath, remembering the important information she had to impart to Raven.

"I saw Lenora," she said, pulling herself into a standing position. She winced—the pain in her leg shot up through her sharply. Clearly it wasn't something she would be able to ignore forever, as much as she would like to.

Raven must have caught the momentary flicker of pain on her face, because he took a step forward, hand outstretched as an offering of support.

"I'm fine," she said, after taking a moment to breathe, then let out a deep sigh. "Lenora has been attacking me with these hallucinations of her past—her husband, her home, her life—and I wish she would either just tell me why or stop."

Raven stared at her. "That was a pretty bad fall you had," he said, after a second. "I mean, I know I tried to pull you out of the library—you were screaming at no one, you realize that, right?—but seriously, you might have gotten a concussion or something."

"I'm fine," Cherish insisted, "and I'm telling the truth. I saw Lenora—and that man, the witch hunter—he killed her husband."

Raven nodded slowly, but didn't look at all convinced by anything Cherish was saying. "There's a doctor's office down the street," he suggested. "We could just pop in real quick and they could take a look at your head. You're not—you're not bleeding, are you?"

Cherish glanced down, swiping her hand quickly down the thigh that was sending stinging stripes of pain shooting up through her with every step. "No, I'm not," she said. "I promise, I'm fine. It just hurts a little, but it's nothing to be worried about."

Raven's mouth drew together in a thin line of dissatisfaction. "After we're done with the spell, you're going to see a doctor, for your own safety. I'm honestly concerned you have a concussion, if not something worse."

Cherish rolled her eyes and started up the stairs. "I'm sure I'm fine," she said. While she sounded confident, she wasn't entirely sure she was fine. Raven did have a point—if anyone else had come up to her and insisted they'd been seeing a ghost, she would recommend them to a doctor, too.

As they entered the library, Cherish found she'd grown tense. She wrote it off as a residual concern she was about to be pulled into another hallucination—but the library was just the way they'd left it—circle cast in the middle of the floor, Lenora's grimoire sitting on the desk—and it was empty. Quiet.