The Ravens

by Kass Morgan

  “Daphne Devereaux?” Marjorie said, rubbing her eyes.

  “Hello, Marjorie,” Daphne said. There was just a hint of frostiness in her voice, but when her gaze settled on the sleeping Scarlett, she asked softly, “How’s your girl?”

  Marjorie reached out and gently stroked Scarlett’s hair. “She’ll be okay in time.”

  Scarlett rolled over and slowly opened her eyes. “Mom?” she said groggily. “What are you doing here?”

  Mei and Jess exchanged glances, then began to usher the other Ravens out of the living room. Vivi and Scarlett began to tell their moms what had happened, taking turns and filling in the gaps in each other’s stories. “I’m so sorry you girls had to go through that,” Daphne said, squeezing Vivi’s hand. “This is exactly what I was trying to help you avoid, but I don’t think I went about it in the smartest way.”

  “You did your best,” Marjorie said crisply in an assured tone even Vivi would have trouble arguing with. “After what happened with Evelyn, what other choice did you have?”

  Scarlett looked from Marjorie to Daphne, clearly startled. “Evelyn Waters? What about her?”

  “Evelyn was my best friend,” Daphne explained. “We’d been attached at the hip since freshman year, when we both joined Kappa. We both came from modest backgrounds, unlike some of the others in our pledge class, witches from old magical families.” Daphne gave Scarlett’s mother a pointed look.

  Marjorie sighed heavily. “After all these years, you’re still harping on this? You’ve become an old magical family, Daphne. Look how powerful your daughter is. You should be proud.”

  “You’re right—and I am,” Daphne said, coloring slightly. “But at the time, I didn’t see how I could compare to witches like you, with your connections, or Evelyn, with all her natural talent. She was named president, a huge accomplishment, but she soon began to act erratically. I think the pressure might’ve been too much for her; she felt like she had to prove herself, demonstrate that she had what it took to be a real player in the magical world. But her spellwork couldn’t quite keep up with her ambition. She was stretching her magic as far as it could go, and she grew frustrated. That’s when she became interested in the talisman. Everything came easier to her when she was wearing it, and eventually, she became dependent on it. Almost addicted to its power.”

  “We didn’t know exactly what was going on,” Marjorie added, “but it was clear that something was very, very wrong, and whenever one of us tried to talk to Evelyn about it, she’d grow furious.”

  “When she learned that she was going to be removed as president, she just sort of . . . snapped.” Daphne winced at the memory. “I started to suspect that she was planning something terrible. She’d grown careless about covering her tracks, and I sensed she was planning to hurt the girl who’d been nominated in her place.”

  “Evelyn asked me to meet her at the beach one night,” Marjorie said quietly. “I never should’ve gone alone, but she insisted, and she was still our president. A powerful one, at that.”

  “I followed them,” Daphne continued. “Thank goodness, I arrived just in time. It took both of us to fight her off.”

  The older women fell silent.

  “So, her disappearance?” Vivi asked after a long moment.

  “It was just the story we told,” Marjorie said wearily. “Evelyn died trying to kill us. She summoned a tidal wave onto the beach and we barely managed to escape before she was swept away herself. Daphne and I decided it was too dangerous to keep the talisman at Kappa. Someone else might be tempted to do what Evelyn had done.”

  “So I volunteered to take it, to keep it on the move. Away from anyone evil.” Daphne placed her hand on Vivi’s shoulder. “I’ll admit . . . I was afraid of it. I blamed the talisman for making Evelyn so dangerous. I thought it might do the same to me or to anyone who came into contact with it.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Vivi said, her cheeks beginning to flush with shame and regret. “I shouldn’t have taken the talisman. If I hadn’t given it to Dahlia—or, well, Tiffany—maybe none of this would have happened.”

  Daphne shook her head emphatically. “No, it’s my fault. I should have told you all this a long time ago. I thought that by keeping you ignorant and far away from Westerly, I was keeping you safe.”

  “Whereas I wanted to raise you and Eugenie to be stronger and smarter than I was,” Marjorie said, facing Scarlett. “I figured if you were the most powerful witches in your years, then you’d never fall into the trap of idolizing the wrong person the way I did.”

  Scarlett grimaced. “No, I was just the girl who didn’t notice her best friend had become a murderer.”

  “But once you learned who she really was, you did the right thing, didn’t you?”

  “She did,” Vivi answered for her. Scarlett had risked her life to rescue Vivi. Whatever their differences, they were sisters. In some ways, her mother had been right—magic was far more dangerous than Vivi had realized. But even the evilest magic couldn’t destroy what Vivi had witnessed in the clearing, a force more powerful than curses and tornadoes, more powerful than fear itself: sisterhood.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Scarlett

  Two days—two long days—after her entire world had changed, Scarlett sat staring out her bedroom window, thinking the same thoughts that had been spiraling through her mind on repeat for the past forty-eight hours. How had she missed what Tiffany had become? How could the girl she’d danced on tables with, the girl who’d held her hand whenever Eugenie made her cry, be capable of murder?

  And how, after everything Tiffany had done, could Scarlett still miss her? Still love her?

  “Knock-knock.” Vivi stood at the door, looking hesitant. “Just checking to see how you’re doing.”

  Scarlett waved her in. “Is everyone circling? I can’t seem to get out of this bed. Out of this room.”

  “Scarlett, I can’t even imagine . . .” Vivi nodded. “Is that hers?”

  Scarlett looked down. She was holding the elephant she and Tiffany had gotten from the antiques store the day after they’d met. “Yeah, I don’t know why I’m holding on to this thing.”

  She threw the elephant in the trash, then turned her attention to Vivi, who looked at the trash for a long beat, as if she was considering rescuing the elephant. As if she could salvage some of the wreckage.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Scarlett said. Even though she’d been consumed by thoughts of Tiffany, something else had been weighing on her too. She couldn’t let things with Vivi stand the way they were before Tiffany had taken her.

  Vivi braced herself, as if she knew what this would be about. Scarlett appreciated that she didn’t protest or get defensive. She just nodded and drew up a chair beside Scarlett. Together they watched the morning sun slowly paint Westerly’s campus yellow.

  “It’s about Mason,” Scarlett started.

  Vivi leaped right in. “Scarlett, I didn’t get the chance to tell you, but I’m sorry. I should never have allowed anything to happen with him. It will never happen again. I know he’s your ex, and I would never do that to a sister. There’s no excuse.”

  “No, there isn’t,” Scarlett agreed. Then she sighed. “But I can’t exactly blame you for screwing up when my screwup was so much worse.” Her mind flashed to Tiffany. To the terrible, callous way she’d admitted to Dahlia’s murder. I needed her power. As if it were that simple; as if it were just a matter of taking what belonged to her. Scarlett’s eyes stung, and she blinked back tears.

  “Your mom is right, Scarlett. You’re not responsible for Tiffany.”

  “Maybe not, but I loved her. How could I not have realized how lost she was?”

  “People aren’t just one thing or the other.” Vivi shrugged. “We’re not just evil or angelic. She did terrible things, yes, but she did them out of love. That doesn’t make them any better; we should still blame her. But just because we blame her doesn’t mean we don’t understand her. Finding out about what sh
e did doesn’t mean your love for her just vanishes. Love is more complicated than that.”

  Scarlett laughed. “Preach.” She picked at her nails, now that her mother wasn’t here to swat her hands anymore. “Feelings never really follow rule books, do they?”

  “Hell no.” Vivi managed a small smile.

  Scarlett couldn’t help thinking of Jackson, of the way he’d taken her hand right before they broke through Gwen’s front door. Before everything spiraled out of control, there had been a split second when she’d thought maybe . . .

  But her head was a mess. Whatever she felt for him was tangled up in adrenaline, fear, heartbreak. She’d need time to sort through it. For now, though, she could make sure others didn’t have to suffer the same confusion.

  “Look, Vivi, what I’m trying to say is . . . if I am honest with myself, Mason and I were over the second Harper died and I couldn’t tell him the truth about it. That secret drove a wedge between us. And while we were apart last summer, he changed. It just took me this long to realize that I changed too. We want different things.” Scarlett was a little surprised by her own honesty—and by the fact that it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would to admit it.

  A sweet look of relief washed over Vivi’s face. “And what is it that you want?”

  “I want to be happy. I just have to figure out what that means for me. I spent my whole life trying to follow the rules. To be who my mother wanted me to be, who Dahlia wanted me to be, who I thought I wanted to be. But I have no right to force my rules on anybody else. Not you, and especially not Mason. So if you two have feelings for each other, then, well . . . you have my blessing to give it a shot. If you still want to, that is.”

  “You don’t have to say that,” Vivi said, looking uneasy.

  “I know.” Scarlett winked. “I’m just that big of a person.”

  As Vivi smiled with relief, Scarlett thought of how much she’d disliked Vivi at first. It was because she was a wildcard. Now she felt like she knew the girl before her almost better than she knew her other sisters. Even more surprising, she was starting to like her. She could see what Mason and the other sisters saw in her. The intelligence, the humor, the heart. Her remarkable effervescence despite being kept in the dark about her heritage for so long and despite everything that had happened to her the last few days. There was a freedom about Vivi, a lack of carefulness that she knew would appeal to Mason, who so desperately wanted to break free of everything that he was raised to be.

  Even now, even after all that had happened, Kappa was where Scarlett wanted to be. Kappa was what she wanted to fight for. Kappa was what she wanted to fix. Still, she felt raw around the edges just thinking about Mason being with someone else. But looking at Vivi, she could at least understand it. She could see it. And she could let the poor girl off the hook.

  Scarlett reached over and nudged her arm. “Don’t think I’m going soft, though. You might’ve survived Hell Week, but you’re still my Little.”

  Vivi lifted her chin. “No one will ever think of you as soft. And I won’t let you down. Trust me.”

  Scarlett’s smile widened. “I do,” she said. And she meant it.

  When Vivi left, Scarlett pulled the elephant out of the trash and put it back on her dresser. Tiffany was gone. But Vivi was right. She didn’t have to let go of what was good in her.

  * * *

  Campus life resumed a shockingly normal rhythm. But while Scarlett had sorted things out with her family and her sisters, she knew she still had something else to do. Something hard.

  Scarlett had Jackson meet her at her favorite place off campus, a little bench overlooking the Savannah River.

  “Hey, stranger,” she said as she handed him a cup of tea she’d brought as a peace offering.

  “She lives,” he said as he sat beside her on the bench and took the cup.

  “I texted you,” she protested.

  “I think I deserved more than a text message, Scar.” He pulled out his phone. “‘Guess you were right, I am the Final Girl after all. Will call you when I come up for air.’” He stared pointedly over the top of the screen. “That’s hardly an adequate explanation, Ms. Winter.”

  Guilt pooled in her stomach. “I heard you came by the house. I’m sorry . . . I . . . It was just too much.”

  “I was so worried that something had happened to you.” He scooted a little closer. “I’m sorry about Tiffany.” The public story they’d put out had been that Tiffany died in the freak tornado that touched down just off campus. As for Dahlia, she’d been reported missing and was presumed also killed in the same storm. After all, the Ravens couldn’t exactly explain that Dahlia had actually gone missing days before but had appeared to be wandering around campus looking perfectly fine.

  “When the first report came in about the victim of the freak tornado, I thought it was you. I thought something awful had happened to you,” he admitted, his voice gruff.

  “The only thing that happened to me was a trip to the police station.” She avoided his eyes. “As you can probably imagine, the cops wanted to talk to me. About a lot of things.”

  Jackson looked around to be sure that no one else was listening. “So what really happened? We found Gwen two days ago, and now . . .” He frowned, confused. “The police are saying she died from a gas leak.”

  “That’s thanks to me.” Scarlett caught herself picking a nail and flattened her palms against her thighs. Well. Thanks to her and Jess, the best Swords witch in Kappa now that Tiffany was gone. It had been easy enough for her to plant a few suggestions in the cops’ minds to help them close the case. It didn’t sit well with her, covering for what Tiffany did, but it had to be done. The Ravens’ secret had to be protected. “I might’ve helped them come to some conclusions about things.”

  “And?” Jackson tilted forward, elbows propped on his knees. “Scarlett, do you have any idea how crazy this has all been driving me? And then to hear the news about the tornado, I mean . . . that kind of coincidence doesn’t just happen.”

  “No,” she admitted. “It doesn’t.”

  “Was it . . . you know, witchcraft?” he whispered.

  When she nodded, Jackson looked at her intently. “Will you tell me what happened?” he asked. “What really happened?”

  Scarlett had known he’d ask and she knew she owed him the truth. He listened and reacted to every detail with eerie calm: How Tiffany glamoured herself and killed Dahlia and Gwen and kidnapped Vivi too. How the Ravens had fought her off with their magic. How Tiffany had fallen. How they’d covered their tracks.

  When she finished, Jackson took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “Scar, I’m so sorry. And I understand why you needed to cover it all up, but I have to ask: Where does Kappa go from here? I mean, the call came from inside the house. What if another one of your sisters decides a different talisman is worth killing for? Or just loses it on her roommate one day? What if—”

  “There will be no more what-ifs. I can handle my sisters. This will never happen again,” she said firmly.

  “How can you be so sure?” he asked.

  “I’m a witch,” she said with a smile. “We know stuff.”

  He laughed. He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press her. “Well, I’m just glad you’re okay. I was so worried. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  His warm brown eyes caught hers and held them. And then he leaned forward. He brushed his lips against hers just once, lightly. “I forgot to ask: Are witches allowed to kiss mere mortals?” he asked. “Or is one of us about to melt?”

  In response, Scarlett cupped the back of his neck with her other hand and drew him against her. “If we’re going to find out, we’d better do it right,” she whispered. Then he kissed her for real. Soft and slow, the kind of kiss you could drown in if you let yourself.

  But she couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

  She’d broken the first rule of being a Raven. Of being a witch. Don�
�t ever tell. Telling Jackson about witchcraft was a cardinal sin. She’d done it because he deserved to know about Harper. And because, somewhere, in the mess of all this, she’d developed feelings for him. Because he’d helped her when nobody else would’ve. But she couldn’t risk making things worse.

  The crisis was supposed to be over. They were supposed to be safe. But to use Jackson’s analogy, the call had come from inside the house. Gwen. Tiffany. Even Evelyn, all those years ago. They had all been Ravens. Who knew how he’d react if he found out how powerful witches really were? Or that Kappa had trained murderers among its ranks? Jackson was already asking questions, and when he inevitably learned the entire truth of their history, who was to say that he wouldn’t want to bring the whole house down? He cared about her; she could feel it. But his moral compass pointed more north than hers did. And why would he want to save the house that killed his stepsister?

  She couldn’t put her sisters at risk again, not like that. Her sisters were what mattered most in the world. At least, that was what she’d always believed—and she couldn’t stop now.

  With a heavy sigh, Scarlett pulled away. She scooped her tea off the bench and lifted it to Jackson in a cheers gesture. “Drink up,” she said. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  He flashed her a smile over the rim of the paper cup. It was the most open smile he’d ever given her. Easy. Trusting. He swallowed a large gulp of the tea, then another.

  She forced a smile and sipped hers more slowly. Hers was just herbal tea, after all. Chamomile to calm her nerves.

  His, however, was a concoction Etta had spent years perfecting. One more sip, and Scarlett could tell she had him by the way his eyelids drooped and his breathing slowed. He wasn’t asleep, not exactly. More just so relaxed, his mind so wide open, that anybody could easily influence him now.