Death Angel

Chapter 19: The Setup

I ended up staying with the Rutherfords for a month. Death was certainly not pleased, though he had to go along with it.

I took the time to catch up with my mother. Steven was away on business, and it was a good thing; it would have been awkward to have to introduce Helen’s dead-daughter-come-back-to-life. My mother reassured me Steven was in the know, but still, there was something about the whole thing that made me feel more than just a little uncomfortable.

Well, that and the matter of the grimoire, that was. My mother saw to it that the month I spent with her was not wasted. This involved long hours of listening. Though I was a fast learner, it taxed my patience.

“Vanessa, we are running out of time,” snapped Astrid.

“Sorry mom,” I said. “I guess it takes some time to get used to the fact that I have the powers of Death and the powers of a witch family to have to deal with.”

“Free spirits, Vanessa,” said Astrid. “Not witches.”

I smiled. “Of course.”

The days were long and grueling. Filled with long and laborious exercises along the expansive Rutherford Estate. I would toil on the grounds until my mother was satisfied, the heat of the summer sun beating down on both of us. My mother had the energy and the resilience of a woman half her age. 

When the sun came down, we would sit outside admiring the expansive gardens, the beautiful marble sculptures from another day and time that were now comforting to me. We’d sip Bordeaux and catch up on the relationship that we never had, each of us longing to be with other.

“I wish I had pictures to show you,” I said.

Astrid smiled at that as she held her crystal wine glass and played with it gently in her fingers.

“I would have loved to see that Vanessa,” she said. “Still, you were in the news often enough. I had plenty of that to see.”

“Oh.”

“And when the internet happened and you turned sixteen, well, the press could not have been more accommodating.”

“I did draw a lot of unwanted attention,” I admitted.

“Oh, shush, Vanessa,” said my mother. “You never did anything that would make us ashamed. You were in the news not because you were a rowdy heiress, you know. It was your accomplishments, and not your failings that were newsworthy.”

I smiled. “I wanted to make my father proud…” I stopped, my voice trailing as I realized my mistake. 

“When your father pretended to pass away,” Astrid continued, “It took almost every ounce of control in me not to want to come and see you.”

“What stopped you?” I asked.

“I didn’t want to jeopardize your safety,” she said, her eyes looking downward in sadness. “Vanessa, had I known that your father would do this, I… I never would have…” Astrid’s voice trailed.

In truth, my heart was unprepared to accept the truth. My thoughts were still filled with beautiful memories of Donovan Hunter. We would go out into Lake Michigan back in the day, we would wake up very early, Daniel and I and my father. The three of us would go to the little slip that belonged to my dad back then, taking the cabin cruiser out onto Lake Michigan. The sense of freedom was exhilarating. How I wished those endless days never came to an end.

My heart was broken three ways over three people. Daniel, my father, and my mother.

Daniel, my fiance and lover would never come to know what really happened and my heart went out to him. Now that I knew he really and truly had nothing to do with my death, I had tortured my Daniel unnecessarily. I promised I would make it up to him when all this was over.