by Ilana Waters
“What are you doing to Eleanor?” Arthur shouted at Abigail. “Stop it!” He and Richard rushed toward Cunningham, presumably to protect her. But if either of them tried to hurt Abigail, Titus reasoned, he was more than close enough to tear their arms off.
“She’s trying to kill me!” Cunningham sobbed.
“Bullshit!” Abigail hollered. “I’m just trying to get you to tell the truth!” She whacked her palm against the side of the mirror. Several glittering leaves fell to the floor.
“You see how powerful she is already?” Tears were flowing down Cunningham’s cheeks, now. “She must be stopped!”
Her plotting prowess is rivaled only by her theatrics, Titus thought.
Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. Titus could feel the inner workings of the man’s mind turning over and over, like the gears of the old clock. He senses something isn’t right, Titus thought. He can’t put his finger on it exactly. But he realizes something doesn’t fit. Richard continued to stand, tense but ready, by Arthur’s side.
Cunningham blinked at him. “Really, Arthur, who are you going to believe? Me, your friend and colleague of several decades, or this tart of a witch who mysteriously joins the PIA just as all this nonsense starts happening? The explosion at the pub, the annihilation of the warehouse? More destruction than the PIA’s recorded in decades in the span of three days, just when she comes along? Now, you find her here, and you think it’s all a coincidence?” Arthur shook his head rapidly, then set his mouth in a line.
Wrong move, mortal, Titus thought. Should’ve listened to your instincts.
“I’m so sorry, Eleanor,” Arthur said in a heavy voice. “This is all my fault.” Abigail gave a cry of exasperation. She shook and shook the mirror, but couldn’t get the magic to return. “All the years I’ve been with the PIA . . . I should’ve realized she was magical. But, as you know, mystical intuition has never been my forte.” He looked daggers at Abigail.
“No, it’s my fault, Arthur,” Richard insisted. He took a deep breath, then sidestepped Abigail, grabbed Cunningham’s wrist, and pulled her to him. Arthur wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she huddled against him. “I knew something was fishy about Silver from the beginning.” Richard put one foot in front of the other, facing Abigail in a makeshift boxing stance. “I should’ve trusted my instincts.”
That’s exactly what I said. Titus closed his eyes. Abigail would never convince them of her innocence now. And they certainly weren’t going to listen to a millennia-old vampire, even if he did suddenly appear in a corner of the room. Not that any of it will matter soon. Titus watched the other vampires and witch turn to each other, frowning. They didn’t know the full extent of this chicanery, but they were clearly growing impatient with it.
“No, no, my boy.” Cunningham held up her hand. “I know you’re too green to listen to your intuition when it speaks. If any other member had done that, well, I’d have no choice but to question their loyalties.” Richard paled. “Perhaps even report them to the senior members.” Richard’s jaw dropped.
“But I can see clearly that is not in your character at all,” Cunningham continued. “Which is why we should leave this deceitful little witch to be dealt with by her own.” She gave Sybil and the vampires a knowing look. “I’m sure they’re much more interested in dispensing a little supernatural justice than dealing with three measly mortals.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Sybil raised one hand, now positively bursting with magic. She poised to throw it at the opposite corner. That will obliterate anyone more than six feet in front of her, thought Titus, including Abigail and me. “What I am interested in are answers.”
“Bollocks to that!” Carver pushed up the sleeves of his jacket. “This has gone on long enough.”
“Carver’s right.” Brandy tossed her hair over her shoulder and cracked her knuckles. “This business with mortals has brought nothing but trouble. And I’m hungry.” She grinned at Carver, who grinned back.
That’s my cue. The wire inside Titus finally snapped. He pulled every ounce of magic into his hands, threw the invisibility spell off himself, and appeared next to Abigail.
“Miss me?” he asked. There were cries of “Crikey!” and “What the bugger?”
“What are you doing?” Abigail hissed. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”
This was not the grateful, relieved reaction Titus was expecting. “And that privilege is reserved only for you?”
“Is that . . .” Sybil’s voice faded away. Her magic-filled hand lowered itself several inches. Titus eyed her and the others.
I could take them out all at once, if I lined up the magic just right. He held a sizzling, swirling ball of it in both hands. But I could hit the clock face. Destroy it. Mortals might find out we exist. Then the Council executes me and Abigail anyway. No, dammit, that won’t work.
“It can’t be.” Carver’s jaw hung open.
“Aurelius?” Brandy said in disbelief.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he replied without looking at them.
Carver tugged at his collar. “Must be the ancient everyone’s been talking about.” The grins faded from the vampires’ faces.
“I don’t care if he’s King Kong!” Cunningham screamed at the supernaturals. “KILL HIM!” Her fury turned to Abigail. “I knew it! I knew you had help destroying the warehouse!”
Abigail whirled around so fast, Titus felt her feather-light curls bounce against his arm. “I didn’t destroy the warehouse!” She found herself staring into the eyes of Arthur and Richard. “Okay, I did, but I had a good reason.”
“You lied to us?” Arthur asked in disbelief. Then, angrier: “Why am I even surprised anymore? Of course you did.”
“YES!” yelled Cunningham. “And she’s colluding with that murderer!” Cunningham pointed to Titus.
“The only murderer here is you!” Abigail exploded. She turned and looked at Titus and the two other vampires. “Okay, technically, that’s not true, but—”
“You just stay away from us, Ms. Silver,” Richard growled, brandishing his fists higher. I should smack his tiny head off his shoulders, Titus thought. But it would mean moving away from Abigail, leaving her exposed.
“But I can explain,” Abigail pleaded.
“Why bother?” Titus asked. Just push the mortals down the stairs, and climb over their bodies, he thought to her. I’ll hold the rest of them till you can get away. He turned back to the supernaturals. Low, rumbling noises rose from the vampires’ throats. Sparks of magic leaped off Sybil’s hands. A few caught the clock face’s metal frame, making it glow white-hot, then red, before retreating to black again.
Don’t be ridiculous, Titus, Abigail thought back. That’s not going to happen. She didn’t specify which part of his plan she meant.
“There is no explanation or excuse for turning your back on the entire human race with him.” Cunningham raised her finely arched eyebrows at Titus. She tilted her head toward Arthur and Richard. “I doubt even she knows the depravity of which this creature is capable. Or perhaps she does, and that’s precisely why she’s with him.”
“Goddamn you, you warped snake of a woman!” Abigail roared at Cunningham. She smacked the mirror again with her palm—harder, this time. “Stupid magic. Why won’t you work?” A blast of light shot out from the mirror and tore a hole in the wall of the mechanism room.
“Jesus!” yelled one of the vampires.
“Sodding hell!” cried Arthur.
Cunningham’s face became an iron mask of determination. She reached across Arthur and Richard and grabbed Abigail’s wrist. Before even Titus could react, she pulled Abigail’s arm back and smashed her face with the mirror. Abigail shrieked and fell through the hole in the mechanism room’s wall.
Abigail’s tote bag fell off her arm. The mirror shattered, snuffing out its light completely, and spewing glass everywhere. Titus saw his partner’s body being
pitched headlong into the clock’s gears.
Gears he set winding not half an hour ago.
“Abigail!” he screamed.
Abigail’s eyes went wide as she saw herself falling. She squeezed her eyes shut and thrust her arms forward. Her body jerked itself to a stop just in time. There she hovered, suspended over the grating metal. The corners of her suede coat dangled above the huge wheels of the gears, inches from their hungry teeth.
“I’m all right!” she called.
Cunningham let out an unintelligible cry of frustration. “You heard her!” she yelled to Sybil and the vampires. “She’s still alive. What are you waiting for? Finish her before she ruins all your plans!” She turned to Arthur and Richard. “And what are you two waiting for? Run!”
Heartless crone. Rage rose in Titus’s throat. Blind, homicidal rage. A feeling not unfamiliar to him. He turned in a snarl, fangs bared, to Cunningham. He hardly had time to enjoy the shock on her face before he gripped her by the throat and—
A bolt of magic hit Titus’s forearm. He let out a bellow of pain and dropped Cunningham. The woman fell to her knees, sputtering, hands clutching her neck.
“Eleanor!” Arthur cried. He and Richard struggled to get her to her feet. Titus turned to see Sybil, arm extended from the magic she’d thrown at him.
“You’re going to regret that,” he growled.
Sybil pushed her sleeves up, her gaze never moving from Titus. “I’ll take care of the other witch,” she said to the vampires. “You two take care of Aurelius.” She glowered at Cunningham. “We’ll deal with you later. Personally.”
“Move, you fools!” Cunningham was on her feet now, coughing. She pushed Arthur and Richard toward the stairwell. “Can’t you see we’re about to die?”
“Are we really going to just leave Abigail?” Arthur’s voice echoed against the stone walls.
“She betrayed us!” Cunningham said. “And she’s dangerous.”
“Yes, but she’s still a human being . . . mostly,” Richard faltered.
“There’s no danger for her,” Cunningham barked. “I’m telling you, this is all a sham. She’s in league with them. Besides, after what she tried to do to me? And if you think three mortals have a chance against a gang of witches and vampires . . .” Cunningham’s voice faded as Titus heard her dragging Arthur and Richard down the stairs.
Then, two things happened at once. The first was Sybil flying into the mechanism room to kill Abigail. Her magical blow to Titus had emboldened the other vampires. Any trepidation they’d had before about attacking him was gone. That was the second thing that happened. The vampires looked at each other, lips curled back, and dove for him.
Too fast. They were coming at him too fast, even for a vampire his age. Can’t dodge them in time. Titus made a split-second decision.
Their shining, furious eyes were inches from his, their gleaming fangs nearly at his throat. He curled his lips back, bearing his own fangs in return. He wrenched his fingers around their collars, used their momentum, and spun them around. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw an invisibility spell over all of them. The quarter bells resounded throughout the tower as Titus crashed through the clock face, dragging both vampires with him.
Chapter 13
Through the hole in the mechanism room wall, Abigail saw Titus go through the clock face. Saw him snatch at the other vampires’ throats before they all vanished over the side. She screamed his name.
They literally disappeared! Abigail panicked. What happened to them? Is it just an invisibility spell, or is Titus dead? Abigail started flying toward the window when she rammed into something midair that made her double over, and sent her sprawling back.
The other witch. Sybil. Abigail hit the inside wall of the mechanism room. Sybil was the one hovering above the machine now, blocking the exit.
I have to get out of here. Abigail’s heart pounded wildly. Have to get to Titus. She clenched her teeth and rose in the air. To her surprise, flying was easier now than it had been before. As if her body had gotten lighter.
“Out of my way,” she commanded Sybil.
“Not a chance.” Sybil’s hair fanned around her shoulders. Magic sizzled and crackled around her hands, as fierce as any Abigail had seen. “You’ve caused enough grief for one night. For a lifetime, in fact.” She threw a ball of magic at Abigail, who ducked just in time to see it tear a chunk in the wall behind her.
What am I doing? Abigail covered her head as pieces of stone and plaster rained down. This witch could be hundreds of years old, and infinitely more powerful than me. But there was no time to get scared. Titus was in trouble. Every second counted.
How do you kill a witch? Abigail wondered. Crash. Another ball of magic shattered part of the wall behind her. Guess that answers that question. Abigail forced magic into the space between her hands. But she couldn’t get it anywhere near as strong as Sybil’s before the next explosion hit.
Dammit, I made a flying disc of death. I made it rain, for crying out loud. This should be easy.
Sybil was advancing now. Abigail desperately wished she had something to put in front of her, like a turned-over bar table or a wooden crate.
Crash. Abigail whipped her arm in front of her face, sure the next blow from Sybil would be the last thing she ever saw. But the magic never hit her. Abigail squinted over her arm. The magic had bounced off something; it lay scattered like hot, glowing embers on the ground. But what stopped it? There was nothing there.
A shield. Finally, it dawned on Abigail. I made a shield with my mind. She jabbed a finger at the air in front of her, and felt a rubbery, bubble-like material push back. Like Titus did to guard his thoughts. Sybil swore as blast after blast of her magic failed to break through.
What was it Titus said about magic? Heart hammering against her rib cage, Abigail tried to think fast, before Sybil figured out a way to penetrate the shield. Visualize it. See it as something that’s already happened in your mind. She tried to remember the exact words. “I am the fire / And we work in kind . . .” But there was no fire here. Abigail glanced at the furiously working gears. Nothing but a bunch of metal. Powers of earth . . . Titus said metal’s a part of earth, right? She fixed her gaze on the spinning wheels that worked the clock and waited. For crying out loud, do something! she begged the machine.
No, that’s not good enough, Abigail. She took a deep breath. Begging won’t work. You have to tell the magic what to do.
“You can’t hide behind your shield forever, little acolyte,” Sybil sneered. She splayed out her hands, shooting streaks of white-hot magic at the bubble. “I’m getting in there, one way or the other.”
“Like hell,” Abigail shot back. But she could feel Sybil’s magic, angry and determined. It could force its way through at any moment. Abigail watched as zigzags flashed inches from her nose. If one of those hits me, she thought, I’m dead. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. Desperately, she searched for some other magic, some other energy, nearby. There must be something here I can use to stop her from killing me.
The most powerful thing in the room—besides Sybil herself—was her amulet. Abigail could see waves of magic flowing off it, slow and steady. The waves cascaded over the clock gears, then faded away. It’s a magnet. No one had told Abigail this; she felt it in her bones. It’s drawn to the other metal around it. A light bulb went off in her head. It already wants to connect to the gears, she realized. All I have to do is strengthen the connection.
She felt the magic outside her shield, concentrating it on the amulet around Sybil’s neck. Then, she added more magic to the waves that flowed to the clock gears, back and forth. A burst of Sybil’s magic shot through Abigail’s shield, singeing one of her curls. Abigail shrieked. But there was no time for fear. She reached out with both hands and pulled on the energy in Sybil’s amulet for all she was worth.
Sybil’s eyes bulged. Her hands went to her throat as the amulet rose to face level and lurched
forward. She stopped hurling bolts at Abigail. Her feet slammed onto the ground. She pulled hard against Abigail’s magic, leaning back as if in an invisible reclining chair. Her heels gouged trails on the stone.
Abigail stood up and kept pulling, the waves of magic between amulet and gears growing thicker, brighter. Sybil was almost close enough to touch them now. She yanked at the amulet to tear it off her neck. But the magic in its chain was too strong. She reached out her hands and made slicing motions, trying to sever the road of magic leading her straight into the gears.
“Sorry, dear.” Abigail grinned. “It’s called a magnet for a reason.” The amulet hovered over the whirring, grinding clock mechanism. Sybil’s face was inches from its largest metal wheel—the same one that had threatened to devour Abigail. She was close enough to see Sybil’s lips curled back, her teeth bared like the vampires’ had been.
“Let me go, you evil wench!” Sybil screeched.
Abigail hesitated. Do I really want to kill her? Do I even have a choice? But if I don’t, she’ll kill me, and maybe go after Titus.
Sybil sensed Abigail’s hesitation. With one last, angry cry, she threw a bolt of magic, which finally shattered Abigail’s shield. Abigail had no time to think. Her body reacted—magically. She launched herself into the air, feet first, and flipped over the machine. Sybil grabbed for her, one long arm reaching over the gears. She clutched at the hem of Abigail’s body-length vest, fingertips brushing the suede before they closed around empty air.
Abigail’s feet hit the ground hard. Her back was to Sybil. She turned just in time to see the other witch wrench her amulet out of the hungry gears’ grasp.
Go go go! Abigail screamed to herself. She had to get out of there. But there’s no time. She hurled herself through the hole in the mechanism room wall, back toward the shattered clock tower face. She had to hide. But there’s no place to hide—oh! I’ll just turn invisible, like Titus did when we eavesdropped.
