The Scary Godmother

by Vivienne Savage

  When Sai stepped forward onto the porch, his muscled arm shot out in front of Anji—whoa, he was big for a mage—and he shoved her back behind him.

  “The hell? What was that about?” she demanded, but dude was in the zone and paying us no mind. He leaned forward, inhaling deeply through his nose before cocking his head and glancing at us. His lip curled back from his sharp fangs. I’d never seen them until now, since Sai always kept them retracted.

  “I smell blood. I thought it was my imagination at first, but I smell fresh blood. And faerie dust.”

  He could smell faerie dust? Before I could question him, a loud crash reached us. Straining to listen, I heard piano keys and wood splintering, followed by someone screaming and a snarl.

  “Holy shit,” Ben breathed, whipping out his phone and punching the 7-key three times. That would connect us to the nearest sentinel field office to make a report. He waited with the phone raised to his ear. Then he blinked and lowered it again. Sparks raised from the device and it fizzled—making this awful electrical noise that didn’t seem possible—before he jerked his hand and dropped it on the concrete, swearing because it must have zapped him.

  “Gremlins,” Sai said. His blue gaze darted around. “Several.”

  The moment I looked into the Twilight to see the little fuckers, an explosion rocked the two-story home and blew out all the windows.

  “We need to go in there.”

  Sai glanced at me. “No. Protocol demands we wait for backup to arrive from the sentinel office.”

  “They’re not coming because we can’t call them!”

  “We don’t know what kind of threat is inside—”

  “Bust the door, Anji.”

  She kicked it in, reducing heavy wood to fragments and shattering the frame. Ben and I filed in behind her into a trashed living room. The sofa had been flipped, and the place stank of magic and smoke, but it was a rancid kind of smell instead of the cleansing flames of Faerie Fire. Flames climbed the walls and leapt to the curtains in twisting tendrils before crawling to the ceiling.

  Not far from the couch, a black and brown wolf lay on a scorched rug, bleeding on one side and covered in burns on the other, the sickly odor of her roasted flesh and fur heavy in the air.

  Shit.

  And not far from Rachel stood a haggard leanansidhe in a tattered skirt and the stained remnants of what had once been a blouse. Ratty dreadlocks hung around a gaunt face deformed by her descent into darklinghood, home to two eyes shining like ember nuggets. Her body was all sinew and bones, skin stretched taut and shiny like a snare’s drumhead. It had to be the Scary Godmother.

  Double shit.

  Anji transformed and bounded forward. Scary smacked her out of the air with a powerful backhand that flung my werewolf pal across the room. She yelped and landed somewhere to the side of us, but was up on her feet again, shrugging it off.

  “Shields, Ben,” Sai said. He made a gesture with his hand, and his staff appeared in a snap with a blinding burst of white-blue light. Ben stared at him with wide eyes, so petrified it took a moment for him to respond.

  “Right!”

  Then I heard Sai’s voice in my head, clear as if he’d spoken it out loud. You and Liadan remove the wolf from the living room. Get her to safety.

  But I can help.

  He ignored me.

  Without access to the sky, I couldn’t call the lightning to help us. Anji circled around the Scary Godmother’s long, emaciated legs, searching for a weakness. At the same time, Sai vanished from beside me and reappeared behind Scary—not directly behind her, but at seven o’clock—for a two-pronged attack.

  Scary stepped into the Twilight, but Sai jumped into it with her. They moved in and out of the other plane, here one moment and gone the next. Her long, clawed fingers batted away his staff thrusts, but vampiric reflexes broke through her supernatural strength. Spellwork and glamour clashed together, sparks and reality-bending effects that always worked in her favor, like pieces of the ceiling showering Sai, or the rug forming a bulge in a convenient place to trip up his fancy footwork. He faked her out by feinting with an ice shard spell that sent a wide cone of powerful flurries hurtling across the living room, but her sidestep in and out of the Twilight to avoid it placed her in Anji’s path.

  Had they coordinated that?

  It didn’t matter. The snarling werewolf crashed into Scary and took her ugly ass to the ground. They rolled across the floor, but the evil godmother wiggled free before Sai could bring his staff down into her. Black blood stained Anji’s red and brown muzzle and glistened against her white teeth. She’d practically shredded the bitch’s quads, and still she was standing.

  That all happened in the seconds between Sai’s order and me crossing to help Lia. When I reached her, the front door slammed shut and currents of force blew the inferno of Faerie Fire over the wall until a writhing mass of flames covered our exit.

  Then, by an act of sheer bad luck, the ceiling fan came loose and fell on Anji. I lunged for my friend, but Ben beat me to her and pushed the fan off.

  “Fuck. I don’t know if we should move her, Sky. What if that damaged her spine?”

  “If we don’t, she’ll burn up.”

  He swore softly again and glanced at Lia. Despite her size, she made progress dragging Rachel across the floor on her own. “Go help her. I got this.”

  “Are you—”

  “Just get them out.”

  I dashed from Ben and Anji to help Lia. The flames blocking our path were gone, as was the door itself. When we got the wolf outside on the snow-covered lawn, I noticed humans watching the spectacle, some on their porches, others in windows, because they didn’t dare leave their safe homes while there was paranormal activity.

  Sirens screamed in the distance. Good. If the police were on the way, maybe someone would notify the Cook County Sentinel Field Office that we needed their asses here now. I ducked inside again to see Ben almost had Anji to the door. As a wolf, she must have weighed as much as he did.

  Scary’s frustrated scream jerked my attention back to her and Sai. It was like watching a World of Warcraft tank in real time, in real life, with graphics better than any video game, because every time she tried to get around him, Sai was there, an immovable wall who kept the heat off us.

  Then the floor caved in. Sai and Scary plummeted through the hole out of our sight into what was presumably the basement, a cloud of dust arising with the chaotic sound of shelves toppling and possessions shattering under them.

  I waited for Sai to appear from the mouth of the yawning hole.

  Scary floated to the edge instead, smiling. “Did you think I’d just let you take that pathetic bag of fleas?”

  My racing heart wanted to burst out of my chest. I rubbed my sweaty palms against my jeans. “Try and stop us.”

  The television beside Ben sparked. Whether that was his only warning or he saw something beyond the Veil of the Twilight, Ben whirled toward it with his hands out and summoned a magical shield. When the television exploded a split second later, its glass shards pelted against the arcane barrier like hail on a tin roof.

  I took advantage of Scary’s distraction and swept my arm toward her, treating my Faerie Fire like a shotgun by channeling a load of dust behind it. The cone of fire that flew at her was monumental, a blaze of golden and blue light that spiraled through the air.

  She cut her hands through the flames, unharmed, and swept them toward Anji’s prone body in a vicious funnel, the once beautiful colors becoming a desaturated wave of bleak faerie magic. And since Ben was bent over her, dragging our werewolf friend over the hardwood floor by her rear legs, he was also in the line of fire.

  “No!” The scream tore from me.

  Before I could move, Ben lunged forward over Anji, landing hard on his knees with both hands out. The shield exploded into place, semi-translucent and glossy, golden with the flow of his power. He gritted his teeth and remained between Anji and the onslaught, flushed face sweaty
and blond hair clinging to his brow.

  The attack was relentless and brutal, seeming to last longer than it probably did until his shield faltered. His hands were scorched and raw, blisters already rising from the smoldering flesh.

  A mage was nothing without his hands. My one attempt to take her on had failed and come back on us. Then I felt the pain of my own Faerie Fire for the first time. It consumed my hands and arms and spread over my wrists. It singed my hair and licked at my face. Shrieking, I stumbled back, blinded by the flame’s intensity.

  Something slammed into my chest. I hit the floor, defenseless and blinking away the stars in my vision. When it cleared, I was still in a world of agony and Scary stood above me, hands on her hips, sadistic smile on her purple lips.

  “Not so tough when birdbrain isn’t here to save the day, are you? You’re actually quite pathetic.”

  She laughed and pinned me to the floor beneath one of her bare feet. She smelled of musk and rot, like old sweat and fetid swamp someone tried to cover up with the cloying scent of cheap perfume. Her sharp toenails prickled against my throat, all of them curved and yellow like claws.

  “Go to hell.”

  Her blazing eyes narrowed into pinpricks of hatred. “I’ve been there already,” she hissed between her sharklike teeth. “Now, what do I do with you and your little friends?” She clicked her tongue a few times while gazing around her at the smoldering ruin. Faerie Fire was mostly smokeless at least. “Which should I kill while you watch? How long do you think her barrier will hold up against me?” I couldn’t move much, only enough to see that Lia had rushed to Ben’s side and channeled her glamour into a Prismatic Barrier.

  “Keep the glamour going, Li—”

  Scary applied enough pressure to cut off the air from reaching my lungs. “We’re going to have so much fun. She can’t be stopped, and neither can I. This little shithole city is mine now, and I think I’ll leave you here to suffer as we take away everyone you know and love. Everyone who crossed us will be destroyed, because I’m way better than a bunch of pissant nosferatu.”

  Black spots swam in my vision, and my oxygen-starved lungs practically screamed.

  Her weight receded suddenly. Scary snapped her head up and gazed at something in the distance. Then she strode away and left my line of sight. I lay there, racked with agony and unable to follow her. My chest hurt, and every breath was like hell.

  A baby shrieked from upstairs, and then the cry abruptly ended and all was quiet aside from the moans of my friends. I crawled to the edge of the damaged floor and glanced down below. Sai had been impaled by a floor beam, the bloody and jagged length of it protruding from his chest.

  The days that followed the Scary Godmother’s confrontation were the two worst days of my life. Sentinels had arrived not long after, but I had no recollection of what happened. One minute, I was in Rachel’s burning living room, and the next, I was tucked into a bed at the medical center with an IV line taped to my arm.

  I had to beg my parents not to come. Plead and beg with them to stay in Virginia while lying about how badly I was injured, because I didn’t think I could face them.

  About a dozen friends sent worried texts, and Gabriel came by once the attending doctor allowed visitors, but I couldn’t really look him in the eye and pretended to be asleep or too drowsy to talk every time. Now I knew how he’d felt when they lost Isaac—except that hadn’t been Gabe or Rodrigo’s faults.

  If I’d listened to Sai, he’d be alive right now.

  So instead of returning their texts, I laid in my hospital bed and stared at the wall until the doctor discharged me. A nurse helped me dress then set a jar of alchemical salve in my palms, because I was “too pretty” to have permanent burns.

  “Provost Riordan would like to see you,” Nurse Kristi relayed from the desk as I headed to the infirmary door. My shoulders drooped.

  “Thanks. I’ll head right on over.”

  Before stepping outside, I pulled up the hood of my coat and ducked my head. Hopefully no one would recognize me, because frankly, I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to answer questions from my peers.

  Since it was New Year’s Eve, it didn’t surprise me that the provost’s secretary was missing from the main administrative office. Riordan’s open door revealed the interior of her personal office. The room itself was really breathtaking, but I was doomed to always miss the chance to admire it. My forays into her domain always involved injuries or incidents.

  I stepped over and rapped my knuckles against the frame. She looked up from her desk and gestured me inside. Then I noticed Simon and Sebastian sitting on the couch by the window.

  Great. Just great.

  When she didn’t invite me to take a seat, I stood in front of the desk and resisted the urge to fidget. No one spoke, only looked at me. The provost had this way of staring a student down until they drowned in disappointment. I’d never heard her raise her voice at anyone, and she didn’t need to.

  “Please be seated, Miss Corazzi.”

  I wiped my damp palms against my jeans and lowered into a chair across from her desk.

  Provost Riordan folded her hands together. “Your rash, irresponsible actions could have cost every student their lives.”

  “I know, and I… I’m ready to be expelled for my actions. It’s the least I deserve for getting Sai killed.”

  The provost’s icy shield melted, thawing only for a split second. “What? We’re not expelling you, and Mr. Varma is quite alive, though his injuries mean he’ll be recuperating for a time, depriving Ms. Maguire and Ms. Burke of his tutelage.”

  “But he was impaled. I… that was the last thing I saw. I didn’t dream that.”

  “Missed his heart by a few inches,” Sebastian said. “He was lucky. It could have gone very differently.”

  “And it wouldn’t have happened at all if correct procedure was followed,” Simon added.

  Every admonishment squeezed around my heart. A hot wash of shame swept up my neck to my ears while cold, icy dread trickled down my back.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I—” There was no excuse good enough, and the words died on my tongue. My gaze dropped to my tightly folded hands, shoulders falling with it, because I wanted to shrink into a tiny, microscopic ball to hide from their scrutiny. “I’m sorry, Provost Riordan. I know I messed up.”

  Her heavy sigh made me feel so much worse.

  “I’m glad you understand the gravity of the situation, but that’s not the only reason I asked you here. We’d all like to hear your account of what happened.”

  Going over it all again only drove in that I’d been incredibly arrogant and stupid—especially when I used Faerie Fire, because I knew better, but I’d panicked.

  “Scary said everyone who crossed ‘us’ will be destroyed. Plural. I think the Hidden Court is cleaning house. They’re going after everyone who was involved in that meeting—”

  “We’re aware, Sky,” Sebastian cut me off.

  “Huh?”

  Simon nodded. “That’s why we’ve had sentinels on you and Fujimoto both. And on the rest of the students who were involved in the midnight meeting with Matt Sinclair. You aren’t the only one with a twenty-four-hour guard.”

  “Oh.”

  “Unfortunately, the pair assigned to follow you that day were detained due to car troubles.”

  “Let me guess. Gremlins?”

  His brows knit. “You’re very observant.”

  “I try. Well, then there’s only one other thing you should know about the Scary Godmother.” I paused and took a deep breath, half-expecting them to all laugh me out of the office. “I think she was Monica.”

  “What?”

  I licked my dry lips and flicked my gaze between the three campus administrators. “The Scary Godmother is Monica Cunningham.”

  The provost blinked a few times, opened her mouth to speak, and then snapped it shut again, only to stare at me with a deep furrow in her brow.<
br />
  Simon shook his head. “Miss Cunningham was Bound last year during the winter break. It’s impossible for her to be a darkling.”

  “I know, but… it was her. I swear it was.”

  “Darklings have a way of making themselves look like those you fear or feel negatively toward,” the provost said. “It’s one of the leanansidhes’ greatest talents.”

  “It wasn’t how she looked—I mean, she was hideous—but it was what she said. I know that probably sounds stupid, but… she knew me. She mentioned Gabe and called him an insult Monica once used. Plus, she has reason to hate Rachel, because they were dating the same guy.”

  Riordan’s gaze flicked toward Simon, so quick I almost missed it.

  “What? Do you guys know something?”

  “Another child was taken earlier that same day, from a former student on sabbatical,” the provost admitted.

  “It was the other girl Trevor knocked up, wasn’t it? The fae girl.”

  “It was, yes.”

  “Don’t you see? That’s all the more reason to tie Monica to this,” I argued. “She had personal beef with both of them. Maybe… maybe she wasn’t actually Bound? I mean, could her dad have paid someone off?”

  A low growl reverberated in Sebastian’s chest. “No. Simon and I were both there as witnesses in the Conclave’s meeting chambers when they performed the ritual. King Oberon, Archmage Mubarak, Fenrir Nanuq, and Queen Nadezka were all present.”

  “Oh.” Crap, so much for that theory. No way were Simon and Sebastian on the take, and four reigning members of the Conclave wouldn’t be bought. “Is it possible something went wrong?”

  Sebastian’s expression softened, eyes sympathetic. “I watched the color fade from her hair, Skylar. She was absolutely mortal. You have to be mistaken.”

  “But I’m not. Please believe me. It was Monica. You had to hear what she said to me. After riding a semester with her as my mentor, I…. She had this way of making everyone feel like shit and talking down to us, but when Scary was there, it was like… she didn’t look like Monica, but she felt like Monica. It’s a feeling I can never forget.”