Nikolaus' POV
The witch we're meeting up with today has lineage within my family. Her ancestors have been in close ties with my family for generations so I'm glad she's agreed to helping us out.
"Dahlia, nice to see you." I greet her with a handshake.
Her short white hair and thin arched eyebrows show wisdom.
"Hello, dear. My family has books about you and your family. It's an honor to finally see the man described on paper." Her voice shakes, showing her age.
I smile and follow her into her small home.
It smells strongly of sage and herbal things all mixed together.
"Someone, please take this box. It's freaking me out." Wyatt complains.
Fucking baby.
I carefully grab the box between the thin blanket, protecting my skin from the contact.
"I was wanting to know if you knew anything about this." I slowly set the box on the table.
Her blue eyes scan the box, making the wrinkles in her forehead become more prominent.
"Where did you find this?" She asks, inspecting it closely.
"We're investigating a murder. It was found at her house." I inform her.
Her frown worsens as she looks at all three of us, "did any of you touch this box?"
We all shake our heads. I knew better than that.
"Good. This," she pulls the blanket, forcing the box to move closer to her, "is a very dangerous box."
Jett chuckles from behind me, "how can a box be dangerous?"
I sigh at his ignorance.
Dahlia ignores his question as she forms one of her own, "was the woman of Jewish origin?"
How the fuck should I know?
By the look on my face, she finds her answer.
"Tell me her name."
"Brexley Napper." Wyatt tells her.
Dahlia closes her eyes while mumbling a few words.
I feel Jett's shoulder rub into mine as he leans into my ear, "it feels like I'm in a damn horror movie."
I smile, trying to swallow my laugh.
Out of nowhere, Dahlia shoves us to the side and shuffles herself around to a bookshelf filled with jarred objects.
She returns to the table and opens the jar, causing a disgusting smell to attack us.
"What the fuck is that?" Jett complains, holding his nose.
"Ox blood." She states simply as she pours it onto the table next to the wooden box.
Fucking Ox blood.
She dips her bony fingers into the blood and swooshes it around.
"Brexley was Jewish. Her ancestors moved to America after World War Two and changed their last name to insure safety. It was common for Jewish families after the war." She almost whispers, still concentrating on playing in the foul blood.
She stiffens her back and rushes to the sink to wash her bloodied hand.
"This is a Dybbuk Box. You were smart to not touch it." She says.
YOU ARE READING
After Solitude
RomanceHave you ever felt the love and protection of three vampires? Zoey hasn't, she didn't even think it could've been anything other than fiction. Nikolaus, Jett, and Wyatt could surely keep Zoey out of harms way, right? Especially since Nikolaus is an...
