The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) by April Aasheim Page B

coat flapping behind him. He snapped his opaque fingers and the flame upon the concrete slab rose even higher. The corners of his mouth slid up, and the severe arch of his brows softened. As he stared at the flame, his anger slowly diminished.
    “Jackson?” I whispered.
    He cocked an ear as if he heard me. After an extended silence, he ran his hands through his sparse white hair. His hair took color at his touch, turning a dark, youthful blond. His dull eyes sparkled and the lines in his face relaxed until they disappeared. He looked no older than thirty now.
    He rubbed his hands over the flame, as if to keep warm, and removed a cigar from his coat pocket. He lit it on the altar fire and puffed, sending large rings of smoke wafting upwards.
    I took a step back, my foot hitting a beer can and sending it skittering across the floor. Jackson paused and inspected the darkness of the room. I was certain he sensed my presence, even if he lacked the ability to see me. Still clutching the cigar, he lifted his chin and opened his mouth, releasing a wail of such desperation it rattled the walls.
    “Sarahhhhhh….”
    “Sarah?” I asked. “Is that your wife, Jackson?”
    He blinked and turned in my direction, his features oscillating between his younger and older selves, but still, he didn't see me. From his perspective, I was the ghost, haunting him.
    “Do you need help finding your wife?”
    He squinted and craned his neck forward. “Sarah? Is it you? Have you finally come back for me?”
    “I’m not Sarah,” I said, holding the glowing wand to my face. “My name is Maggie.”
    “Sarah! I knew you'd return!”
    “No, No! I'm Maggie.” I stepped closer so that he could see me.
    But his eyes passed right through me.
    “Sarah! I've waited so long, but you are here now!” He clasped his hands before me in a pleading motion. “Let your spirit haunt me, sweet Sarah. I have forgiven you, please stay with me. Don't leave me in this world alone.”
    I shared his anguish.
    “I'm sorry,” I said. I gripped my wand tighter, focusing my energy into it. The gem brightened and his eyes found it. I lifted the wand, waving it near my face and his gaze followed. He dimmed his own light to see mine.
    “My name is Maggie,” I repeated. He smiled and I smiled back, two souls acknowledging each other through different planes. “Sarah’s gone,” I said gently. “You need to let her go so that you can move on, too.”
    He blinked with incomprehension. I tried again. “Sarah died a long time ago, Jackson. You shouldn’t stay here. There are better things ahead for you.”
    He reached out, covering the end of my wand with his palm. The light snuffed out. Opening his other palm, he revealed to me another vision:

    A beautiful young woman in a long gown emerges from a staircase, in a house much like this one. She is vivacious and full of life. Her smile is framed by gold ringlets and dimples. She laughs before she speaks.
    “Jackson, aren't you happy? Are you not excited to be a father?”
    Another image appears beside hers, a young Jackson with a full head of hair and sideburns that creep towards his chin. He is angry. “You!” He points at the woman. “You, who swore you'd be faithful forever. What a cruel liar you are, Sarah!”
    “Jackson, the baby is yours!”
    “You're a whore and that baby is a bastard!” He snarls and takes a puff from his cigar, blowing the smoke into her face.
    “Whoever told you that speaks untruths. I've only been faithful.”
    “Liar!” He raises the back of his hand, as if to hit her. Instead, he points to a door. “Leave!”
    “This is my family home! You cannot order me out.”
    “I'll see that you're gone in short order. The court doesn't take kindly to fallen women.” He raises his chin and stares into her eyes. “I curse you, Sarah! That baby will not be born, and you will never set foot in this house again. I'm leaving now, but I'll be back tomorrow. I expect your bags to be