CHAPTER THREE

Lilith hovered in the operating room aghast for eight consecutive days, watching as every bodily component of her corpse that could be removed was removed.

“Adrenal glands! Pituitary glands? Am I a frog for dissection?”

She wanted to reach out and squeeze the life out of the doctor. How dare he dismember her without so much as her written permission. Not that she had any conceivable use for her remains. But witch or no, it was a disturbing sight.

For his part, Dr. Svenson was practically giddy. Lilith Hazelwood’s organs exceeded his wildest expectations. They were just so amazingly robust. No other word for them. If he had known better, he would assume that they were from a twenty-year-old. Nothing would go to waste. If it didn’t have an immediate transplant destination, it was to be put on deep freeze for study.

Lilith was somewhat mollified. After all, it was much like she was considered comparable to a Nobel prize winner whose brain is prized for study. But look at these unworthy girls who were receiving her organs. Her powers were being scattered, diluted amongst these weak, slow, clueless, pathetic girls.

“You’re keeping the brain?” another doctor wondered.

Dr. Svenson had been obligated to recruit surgical teams from all over Cape Cod and the Boston area to complete this marathon of operations.

“Scientific study,” he answered evenly. “Her family has given consent.”

“Anything special about her brain?”

“She was a remarkable woman. I think her brain is going to give us some extraordinary insights into the vast range of human potential.”

All told, there were eight recipients of these lifesaving, life-changing procedures. (And eventually, there would be a ninth.) But exactly how life-changing, even Dr. Svenson could not foresee.

Lilith’s interest in her body was not idle. She had been murdered. She needed to know who had done it and she needed a means of seeking sweet vengeance. But she would need earthly assistance. And who better than one of these girls who owed her their life? Oh, she would press one of them into assistance and when the time came, they would have no choice in the matter. Who would be the likeliest, strongest candidate? It was too soon to tell. First up was Margo Bailey.

*****

Even before she opened her eyes, Margo lay in the hospital bed listening to her new heart beat. Normally, this would have terrified her, primarily because so many things terrified her. But this heartbeat had a soothing and emboldening effect on her. She opened her eyes, and hands clasped together, she put her hands on top of the new organ. The area was tender, perhaps even a bit painful. Funny that she took it in stride when pain used to send her into such a panic.

More important than any discomfort was the strong, powerful rhythm beneath the skin with the dizzying promise of boundless strength and energy. Still in her dressing robe, she made her way to the door and peered into an empty hospital corridor. No one was about. The transplant operations were still ongoing and demanded everyone’s attention. Margo wondered how long she’d been there. Where was the doctor? What was it like outside? All of a sudden, she just had to know.

At first, she made a slow patter across the cold floor, all the while delighting in her new heart’s ability to handle all challenges. She sailed right past the front desk attendant before the woman could even react.

“Wait! Stop! Miss Bailey! Stop!”

But Margo was not inclined to turn back. These were her first moments of hope, of existing in a body that would not fail her. All the world had to be seen and felt through the eyes of this lucky new creature, this new Margo Bailey. And like a dog straining at the leash, her new heart really seemed to want to be let loose. She continued her soft jog with a loop around the hospital grounds and became aware after a few moments that there was a large group of people running and screaming behind her.

 It would surely only take them a moment to catch up. Other people were always faster and stronger than herself. But the new heart urged her on and she couldn’t resist. She broke into a sprint, her heart pumping as fast and as hard as she needed it to. She didn’t stop until she’d arrived back at the front of the hospital, where Dr. Svenson stood, whom she made a beeline for. His mouth dropped, and Margo was thrilled to be able to share the moment with him. The doctor’s eyes filled with tears and Margo threw her arms around him.

“Thank you, Dr. Svenson. Thank you for everything. I think I’m ready to go home now.”

The posse that had been chasing her arrived, huffing and puffing, some collapsing on the ground. Margo noted their exhaustion with amazement. She had always a wanted a heart as strong as everyone else’s. But to be stronger than others? That was a possibility she could barely comprehend. Dr. Svenson examined the healthy young woman before him. This was no ordinary success. This was the power of the witch’s heart. But what lay ahead for her?

“Be careful, my dear. You don’t want to overtax your new heart.”

But anyone looking at her dazed and dreamy expression would suspect that Margo Bailey had no intention of slowing down. Not now.

*****

Bette was quite prepared to play the nurse for as long as need be. She had requested to take several days off work to fetch and carry meals and drinks, do the dishes, laundry, whatever she could to spare Margo from too much exertion. When she rolled out of bed the first morning after Margo’s return, she tiptoed into the hallway, not wanting to wake her sister unnecessarily.

Margo’s door was open and Margo was nowhere to be seen. A frantic search through the small two-story house revealed that Bette was completely alone. She ran outside frantically.

Behind their lavender gray Nantucket-style beach home, there was a sight to be seen. Margo was perched at the top of a tall ladder all the way up to the edge of the roof, and she appeared to be repairing some loose shingles.

“Margo,” Bette called out softly, not wanting to startle her sister. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Good, you’re up. I need to hammer this on and I was worried all the noise would wake you up.”

“Are you loco?”

“Just give me two minutes,” Margo said.

She cheerily hammered two loose shingles back into place and swiftly descended the ladder without a moment of hesitation.

“Now we won’t need to have to pay to have it repaired. It was a really easy fix.”

“You could have fallen,” Bette fussed.

“But it’s a really good ladder. And I’ve got good balance.”

“You just had a life-saving operation. I don’t know if this is really the right time to turn into a daredevil.”

“I just wanted to test myself. To test the new heart. Just to stand on the bottom rung, and if that was okay, to go up one more rung, and then one more. I knew I could stop as soon as I got scared. I never thought I’d make it past four rungs. And then all of a sudden, I was touching the roof!”

“But you always said that ladders make you nervous.”

“They did. They absolutely did. And my old heart couldn’t stand being nervous. But Bette . . . my new heart! I think it will stay strong even if I’m doing something scary. The thing is . . . this wasn’t a very good test for it because it just didn’t feel all that scary.”

“Oh, it’s bad enough. You’d never get me up that ladder.”

Margo tried to suppress a big smile, but to no avail. She could handle something her older sister could not!

Bette shook her head. “I’m starting to think I didn’t really need to take any days off.”

“Oh, no. I’m glad you did. After breakfast, I was hoping I could get a little practice . . . driving your car.”

“My car! My . . . Margo, you haven’t driven since you were sixteen.”

“Yeah, but I still have that license. And it’s about to expire, so I could use a little practice before I take another driving test.”

“Do you remember the last time I took you driving? I kept telling you . . . a little bit faster, try to go faster. And you said, I am going faster. And I said, you really need to try to get up to twenty-five miles an hour.”

“Very funny. I was sixteen and I didn’t know how to do anything. Things are different now. Way different.”

“All right, but only if we go out somewhere secluded. Nothing to run into. And if we run into something, you pay all the damages. I must be out of my mind.”

Bette was only pretending to be put out. The sight of her fragile little sister tackling the daily chores of life with gusto was a thrilling contrast to the walking on eggshells existence of their past twenty years together.

So much for seclusion. Not a chance. Margo wanted to zip up and down the freeway. “Let’s have lunch in Falmouth and then drive back.”

“Margo, you’re not just stronger, you’re . . . different.”

“I’m not different. I just don’t need to be so careful anymore. I don’t need to keep worrying about the things I can’t do.”

“So . . . the Prada glasses?”

The green tinted, black and silver rimmed designer sunglasses were Margo’s prized possession, certainly her most expensive indulgence.

Like all other acquisitions, it was bought on the understanding that Bette would inherit it after Margo’s untimely death. They were super cool. And Margo had always known they would look fantastic on her sister.

“Forget about it. My glasses! My glasses! I’m going to be needing them for the foreseeable future. And for the unforeseeable future. As a matter of fact, I intend to wear those glasses to my seventieth birthday party. So, you just get your beady eyes off them.”

The sisters laughed and couldn’t stop. What a turning point for Margo. Such confidence about the future, and why not? Her endurance was remarkable and her frame of mind followed suit. There would be no more grim updates to her will. There was no reason to think that her strength and vitality were going to wane anytime in the near future.

Lilith was not so impressed. Strength. Endurance. Energy. Those were small matters. Though she smugly remembered hearing all the world around her complaining of being tired and knowing that to be a completely foreign sensation to her—as was fear, which she was happy to see the girl slowly discovering. But endurance and attitude were not going to be enough, not even close. This girl needed skills. And with Margo not being connected to the witch community, their development was going to require some planning.

*****

It was a big day for Lilith Hazelwood. In the morning, there was to be an estate sale of her lifelong home and all its possessions. In the afternoon was to be her funeral. It was actually quite an unofficial estate sale. But it was a long-standing tradition for witches in this community to protect their practices and secrets by stripping the home of their dead of any incriminating evidence of magic crystals, wands, herbs, and most especially spell books, all the tools of the trade, so to speak. Not that the average citizen of Oyster Cove would be able to accomplish much with them, but such findings often led to public hysteria. Besides which, there might be some unexpected treasures that they could actually use.

There were some dozen witches milling around the large house. None of them had been inside before. It was unexpectedly cheerful. They would’ve bet good money that Lilith’s home would reek of gloom. Instead, it was tidy, cozy, even downright tastefully decorated. The English country design appeared to belie a nostalgia for times gone by . . . plush velvet sofas, gleaming polished wood, a large brick fireplace, and, most surprising, floor to ceiling bookcases, filled with vintage reading. Could Lilith possibly have admired the words of lowly humans? Or was the impressive collection just for ambiance?

None of the witches there had actually been friends of Lilith. She had made it very clear throughout her long life that she had no need of their friendship. Some disliked her, but most admired her from a fearful distance as the pinnacle of witchly accomplishment.

There were a couple of dozen spell books, which were quickly spirited away, but not much else, and that was a testament to Lilith’s innate powers. She had not required the enhancements that most of them used to channel their strengths such as talismans or amulets. Her abilities emanated from her mind and body with little need for assistance.

By the time the witches allowed the general public to come in, they had satisfied themselves that all signs of their community were safely under wraps. Most of them had made their exit by mid-morning. After all, they had a funeral to attend. Being such a small community, it was obligatory to pay one’s respects—even though no one could have been entirely sure that Lilith would have attended theirs.

But a few lingered behind and were still there when Margo and Dr. Svenson entered. Margo had begged the doctor for some kind of information or connection to the woman whose death had given her this powerful new lease on life.

She entered the house awestruck, overcome with reverence and gratitude. All the while that she’d been waiting for a heart to be available, she had never lost sight of the fact that someone would have to lose their life in order for her to have a chance to live. Now she was standing in the home of the woman who had made that sacrifice. There would never be an opportunity to meet her or to thank her, nor even to thank her relatives, since the doctor said there were none. But she did want to find a keepsake, something to remind her of the woman to whom she was indebted.

She wandered out onto the back porch and spotted the perfect thing, a blue vase that reminded her of a seashell. She would give it a place of honor in her own home. As she was about to reenter the house, she was met at the back door by Delphine Sykes, who was looking at her with the oddest expression.

“My dear girl, you’re looking so well. You’re practically glowing. This is quite some difference from when I saw you last.”

Margo nodded happily. “That seems a lifetime ago.”

Delphine drew closer, and her mouth dropped in amazement. “I had no idea that you’re one of us. How on earth did I miss it?”

Margo tilted her head in confusion. “One of us? Who is us?”

Delphine examined her sharply. “Your powers. I can always sense them, but . . .” It was clear that Margo had no idea what she was talking about. “What has happened to you, Margo?”

“I got a heart transplant. I’m going to be healthy now, as healthy as anyone else. Maybe even healthier. I came here today . . . I don’t know, I guess it may sound silly, but it was the woman who lived here whose heart I have. Her name was Lilith Hazelwood. Did you know her?”

Delphine shook her head in amazement. “Indeed I did, my dear. We were acquaintances of long standing.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss. I’d love to hear more about her one day, when you’re ready.”

“I had no idea that Lilith Hazelwood was an organ donor,” Delphine said pointedly. “Who conducted the operation?”

“Dr. Svenson,” Margo said proudly. “He’s right in the next room.”

“I must congratulate him on his stunning success,” Delphine said innocently. “He must be a very talented man.”

“Yeah, you should do that. I keep thanking him over and over, but he’s just amazing. He should hear it from someone else too.”

Delphine left to accost the good doctor, who was in Lilith’s kitchen, hoping to find some clues to her unusual existence. After all, it was he who had made her body a part of so many lives. He didn’t regret it for a moment, but he did wonder about the ramifications. Hmm. Graham crackers and Nutella in her cupboard, much like his own pantry. Somehow, he never would have figured Lilith for a sweet tooth.

“Dr. Svenson. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Delphine Sykes. And I would like to know who gave you permission to slice and dice and dismember Lilith Hazelwood? Is it your policy to disregard conventional protocol when it comes to members of a particular community?”

Dr. Svenson’s eyes flew wide open. “I take it that you are a member of this community.”

“I am.”

“Was Lilith a friend of yours?”

“Lilith Hazelwood did not have friends. She had no need of friends.”

“And Margo Bailey? You know her well?”

“Not well at all. I only knew that she was doing very poorly, and now . . .”

“Yes, now. You see how she is now. How beautifully she is doing now. I have no apologies for my actions, and I’m prepared to accept any and all consequences from the authorities, as well as from yourself. The health and future of that girl are the only justifications I needed.”

“Bit of an outlaw, aren’t we, Dr. Svenson?” Delphine mused.

“She has a good heart now, and I suspect you also have a good heart.”

The doctor’s affection for Margo was enough to dissolve Delphine’s irritation.

Delphine sighed. “If you’ll excuse me, Doctor, I have a funeral to attend.”