by Arden, Alys
Get up, Adele! If she finds you like this, you’re toast. I forced myself onto my elbow, but the small motion spun my head like a drunken ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl; I collapsed back down, and I lay there, paralyzed with fear that she’d heard me stir.
Would Annabelle really try to kill me?
Another girl stepped into view, mumbling in French—long, flowing waves of shimmering white-blond hair. Lisette.
Shit. My heart pounded harder. Lisette definitely would.
“Tu est Annabelle?” she asked her great-something-grandniece.
“Oui.”
Hearing the fear in Annabelle’s voice made my pulse flick, though I wasn’t sure whether it was out of fear for her, or rather a hint of glee. A part of me hoped she survived all of this just so I could take her down myself.
Lisette’s bloodstained hand moved to Annabelle’s face, touching her as if to confirm she was real and not an apparition. Annabelle’s voice softened and I couldn’t hear whatever she said over the ringing in my ears, but Lisette laughed.
“You’re going to have to try much harder than that to control me, ma fifille.” Her hand slid down Annabelle’s throat. “You’re not touching my heart. Not even close.”
The muscles in Lisette’s arm went taut, and she lifted Annabelle in the air until the tips of her toes barely touched the floor.
Lisette must have been out-of-her-mind starving if she’d really bite Cosette’s descendant—her own family’s magical heir.
Get up, Adele, do something. You have to help her. No one deserved to have their life sucked out of them. Besides, it’s your fault the curse was broken in the first place. But I couldn’t even feel my fingers, much less get magic to rise out of them. I simply lay there on the floor, listening to Annabelle Lee Drake begging her own vampire-witch ancestor to spare her life.
Her pathetic life.
Maybe you should have joined your mixed-magic ancestral coven, Annabelle, instead of turning your back on us?
She hadn’t just turned her back on us; she’d served us up on a silver platter to the first witch who came calling with empty promises. Maybe I didn’t care if she died at the hand of a vampire.
But then Lisette set her back on the floor, and Annabelle pulled her into a tight hug, whispering something about “helping our family.” Keeping hold of Lisette’s hand, Annabelle turned away and screamed.
Seconds later a new set of footprints thunked down the hallway. “Annabelle?” a man’s voice echoed. “Where are you?”
“In the hallway! Philippe! Hurry!”
So long, Philippe. Right into the spider’s web.
And just like that, Annabelle served up one of her own coven members to Lisette in exchange for her own life.
Blood splattered across the shadowy threshold. I could feel my own consciousness slipping away once again, and that terrified me more than anything—the idea of lying here lifeless. As blood gurgled into Lisette’s throat, I used my last bout of strength to shove myself across the floor, out of sight from the entranceway and into the dark corner across from Codi.
Codi.
He was still lying in the shadows beneath the window where I’d set him, slumped over, eyes closed. I tried to hang on to the sight of him. He’s sleeping, I told myself. Sleeping. I tried to focus on the muffled screams outside, on the smell of smoldered grass wafting in, and on the chill in the air, but little by little it all slipped away no matter how hard I fought.
As I drifted away, all I could imagine was Isaac finding me here in the convent, dead, after releasing Nicco. My heart ached with regret over not telling him everything.
Who would he think was the bigger traitor: Annabelle . . . or me?
A sense of panic jarred me awake. Voices in the darkness.
“Mrs. Le M-Moyne—?” Codi trembled.
Panic exploded in my chest. He was still catty-corner to me, but now a woman towered over him, her skin silvery in the pale moonlight. She was breathing heavily, her shoulders heaving, as if she were fighting herself.
“Mrs. Le Moyne, it’s me! Codi Daure! Remember, I lived down the street? Adele’s friend from the tearoom. You used to visit with her when she was a little girl and drink chamomile tea.”
She was barefoot, and blood dripped from her fingertips. I hoped it was from her last victim and not Codi.
Get up, Adele. Get the hell up. This isn’t Annabelle!
“Mom?” The word barely rasped out of my throat.
Codi’s eyes caught mine, and he vigorously shook his head. My mother leaned over him, and his eyes watered as he looked back up to her. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew her fangs were out by the way Codi coiled. She knelt down—
“No!” I flung myself up, screaming, “Mom! Please!”
She didn’t so much as look my way. I tore the silver feather from the thin chain around my neck. The medallion slipped off and spun away.
I pressed the sharp edge of the feather against the inside of my arm. She’s my mom; she won’t kill me. But Codi was not so safe.
“No, Adele!” Codi yelled. “No!”
“Get away from him!” I ripped the metal feather into my skin, expelling a scream from my throat. It slipped from my hand and clanked to the floor as blood welled from the wound.
“Cover it up, Adele!” Codi smacked his hand against the ground.
I squeezed my arm, spattering droplets of red.
Brigitte whipped around, the silhouette of her hair glimmering in moonlight.
My eyes welled. “Mom . . . ?”
The word sounded unrecognizable from my voice. It felt so strange to see her, I didn’t know what else to say. She looked like a slightly taller, vampiric version of me, and it was terrifying.
Blood, so dark it looked black on her shadowy face, was smeared across her chin like she’d tried to wipe it off.
“Mom . . .”
A tear dripped down her cheek into the blood—it was the most emotion my mother had ever shown me, as far as I could remember.
She stepped closer. I held my arms out to her, tears pouring down my face. I can survive a vampire bite if it comes to that. Adeline did. Morning Star did.
That’s what I told myself as I caught the look in her eyes—the begging for forgiveness—just before they glossed over like Nicco’s predatory stare.
And that’s what I kept telling myself when she didn’t go for my arm—when my head slammed back against the wall and her fangs plunged into my neck. When my scream didn’t faze her in the slightest, and she instantly began pulling on my blood. Paralysis overcame me as her venom spidered into veins.
In the distance I heard my name echoing down the hallway.
Isaac.
He was too far away. He was going to be too late, and then he’d hate himself forever. I didn’t want him to hate himself. I hoped he’d move on and be happy, without me.
My fingernails clawed into her shoulder, and her nails clawed into mine. I wanted to beg her to stop, but the only words that came out of my lips were, “It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay.”
The sound of my name came closer.
Nicco?
Still not close enough.
I trembled, and she trembled, and my skin was slippery with my blood and her tears, but still she didn’t stop drinking. As I sank to the floor underneath her, the pain faded into numbness, and my arms went limp.
She didn’t stop when Isaac burst through the door, nor when Nicco rushed in at his heels, screaming her name.
Isaac dove straight for her, but Nicco leaped at him and wrestled him to the ground. Isaac got an arm free and pulled out a stake.
“No!” I croaked.
He released it, using a gust of wind to whip it straight toward my mother’s back.
I barely saw it, just felt her fangs push deeper into my neck as the stake plunged into her.
No, Isaac. No.
Her grip tightened, and her bite tightened, and then she froze.
No.
She leaned into me, lifel
ess.
No.
Nicco and Isaac rolled over each other, grappling, and slammed into the wall near Codi. They jumped apart, whirling back to me.
Nicco’s eyes went wide.
Isaac rushed past him, screaming my name. He pulled my mother off, letting her body fall to the stone floor without even a glance, and he ripped open my collar, but my gaze didn’t leave my mom. “Adele!” His hands cupped my face as he repeated my name over and over.
Nicco lifted her up and carried her into the beam of moonlight. He gently set her down on her side and slid the stake from her back. My chest tightened as he took her pulse.
Italian words slipped from his lips as he draped his fingers over her eyes.
No. No. No.
She can’t be dead. She’s a vampire.
Watching her eyes slip shut, I felt like I was watching my own death in some out-of-body experience.
“Adele, you’re going to be okay,” Isaac said, reaching his arms under my back to pick me up.
A man’s voice cried out from the hallway. “Brigitte!” Emilio burst through the door, a look of total panic on his face.
“Isaac,” I choked. “Behind you.”
It was just enough time for him to glance over his shoulder, change form, then flap up and away, out the window, out of Emilio’s reach.
As Emilio fell next to Brigitte, hysterical, Nicco dashed to me, scooped me into his arms, and whipped out the door, cradling me against his chest.
CHAPTER 47
The Fifth Element
I pounded my wings, soaring over the back gardens, the wind zipping through my feathers as I caught the air current, rising higher into the starry night, flapping faster and faster as my thoughts ping-ponged back and forth between two images: the stake releasing from my fingertips, and Adele’s bloody bite mark.
When I was far enough away, I looked down. No one was chasing me. I’d expected full-on retaliation after staking one of their own.
I killed a vampire . . .
I killed a vampire.
A Medici sister. And no one was chasing me . . . yet. That left me more freaked out than if I’d seen all three of Giovanna’s brothers at my heels.
I need to get back to Adele.
I tipped to the side and soared a wide circle around the gardens.
The sight below sickened me. Total carnage. Trails of blood led to drained bodies—one strewn across a hedge, another crumpled against the concrete wall perimeter, and another facedown in the fountain, turning the water crimson. The arc of statues in the middle of the yard still gleamed white under the stars, but two were now covered in smears of red. A circle had been burned into the patch of grass around them, and tiny piles of burning embers glowed here and there on the lawn. Blackened lemon trees and bushes still smoldered. It smelled like a campfire, but looked like a campsite that had been attacked by wild beasts.
As I swooped over the roof, the sound of cracking glass rippled overhead. I craned my neck to look up toward the moon just in time to see the glimmering invisibility shield shatter into a million twinkling pieces. They rained down around me, vaping out before hitting the ground.
Annabelle had broken the spell . . . or someone had broken Annabelle.
And then, as if the spell being broken had tripped some kind of silent alarm, witches and vampires began scattering from the school grounds, running away from the now-unprotected site of the massacre. If the witches headed straight past Esplanade, they’d be safe from most of the vamps—from all but Nicco and Emilio—but in that moment I didn’t care about warning them. All I cared about was getting back to Adele.
I dove down to Chartres Street and through the front doors of the church. The dead witch was still impaled on the candle rack, but there was no sign of Callis’s dead body, just a splotch of blood in the spot where Emilio had attacked him. Celestina was gone too. I zoomed through the door into the dark hallway and dropped to the floor, taking human form as I landed. Panting, I pounded across the wooden floorboards and burst into the room where I’d left Adele.
“Isaac!” a girl yelled from the shadows. “Thank God!”
She leaned into the glow shining up from her phone, which was resting on the floor.
“Désirée?” I stepped closer.
She was hunched over a guy who looked bad off: his white T-shirt was completely sweat-soaked through, his breathing was rapid and shallow, and his lips were turning blue. Désirée’s arm glistened with fresh blood. His, I think.
“Are you okay?” I spun around looking for Adele.
There was more blood on the floor, but no one else in the room, not even a body. No dead vampire. No Adele.
“Where’s Adele?” I yelled.
“How would I know—I just got here! What the hell happened? Did Adele open the attic? Where’s Annabelle?”
“Adele was right here two minutes ago. Come on, we have to find her!”
Désirée took off her jacket and pressed it into the guy’s leg. “Isaac, we can’t just leave him.”
I paced back and forth. “I don’t care about helping any of Callis’s coven members right now. We have to find Adele!”
“This isn’t one of Callis’s coven members!” Her voice lowered. “This is Codi Daure.”
I paused, peering down at him.
“And from what I’m guessing . . . he’s our fifth.”
The guy on the floor stirred. “She saved me. Adele saved me from the vampire.”
Of course she did. “Dammit!” I lowered down to pick him up. “Come on. Let’s get him out of here.”
“No!” Désirée shouted, quickly moving her hands so I could see the wound: a bone stuck out of his thigh. “He’s going to bleed out if we move him.”
“Jesus!” I unhooked my belt and ripped it through the loops.
He howled as I lifted his leg just enough to slip the band of leather underneath it; I tightened it, and he really howled, followed by a slew of profanity.
“I didn’t know southerners knew words like those,” I said, seeing the fear in his eyes.
His mouth twitched into a half smile. He looked up at me, his whole body trembling as he spoke. “It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing else you could have done.”
What the hell is he talking about?
“You had to stake her,” he continued. “She was going to kill Adele.”
Clearly, Codi Daure and I were going to have a lot of bonding to do if he thought I gave a shit about taking out Giovanna Medici, especially when she was attacking Adele.
I pulled out my phone and activated the flashlight so I could get a better look. “Désirée,” I said, seeing that his lip color was turning from periwinkle to cornflower. “He’s going into hypovolemic shock! He needs an emergency room, now. He needs blood!”
Désirée didn’t answer. She didn’t even look up. Her head was bent over him, her hands clutching her blood-soaked jacket over his wound as if she were hanging on for dear life.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as her knuckles clenched even tighter. “Dee!”
She rocked back and forth, and then she screamed as if in great pain.
“Désirée!” I hustled around to her side, ripping my hoodie over my head, ready to replace her blood-soaked jacket. I pushed away her hands, but when I peered down at the wound, there was no longer a splintered bone, just a severe cut deep into his thigh.
“Dee, what the hell?”
Codi’s fingers moved. He pulled her hands back over the wound, barely coherent as he mumbled, “Please don’t stop.”
Her eyes slipped shut, and she began again. Color drained from her face, making her look even paler by the glow of our phones, and tears poured from her eyes in steady streams. Her brow scrunched, as if she was trying not to scream in pain.
“Dee, stop. Just stop.” I shook her shoulder. “Whatever you’re doing! Stop!”
Codi sucked in a giant gasp of air, and she collapsed into my arms. Her eyes rolled back in her head until I saw nothing but the
whites of her eyes.
“Désirée!” I shook her harder than I should have. “Answer me!”
“What the?” Her eyes fluttered open. “G-get off me.”
Fuck.
“What’s going on?” She slowly sat up, and gasped, looking down at her left arm. “Oh, my Goddess . . .” A mark on her left arm was glowing lime green. “My Maleficium,” she said despondently.
Codi hoisted himself into a sitting position, sucking in air and patting his ripped jeans where the broken bone had been. “What the hell, Borges?” he said in wonder. “You have the power to heal?”
“Where’s Adele?” I asked him, flashing my phone around the room. There were red spatter marks everywhere.
A glint on the stone floor across the room caught my attention.
With a sinking feeling, I strode over and picked it up: the feather, sticky in blood. “No.” I twisted around and saw the medallion.
I scooped it up along with the broken chain.
Codi picked himself up as if he hadn’t just had a near-death experience. His gaze hardened as he walked over to me. “He took her.”
My fingers curled around the feather.
“I’m coming with you,” he cried, but I was already flying out the window, higher and higher, caws ripping from my throat.
CHAPTER 48
The Maleficiums
I faded in and out of consciousness along the way.
I didn’t know where we were going, but I was eager to get there with Nicco.
By the time he climbed the narrow, winding stairs to the bell tower, I could feel his strength ebbing, how he strained to lower me to the cold stone floor.
The starlit sky poured in through the broken shutters, and even in the dark Nicco’s Medici-green eyes twinkled like points on a constellation. His face was pale and gaunt, and I wondered if it was the filter of moonlight or because he hadn’t fed. That question didn’t scare me as much as the fear that flickered in his eyes.
He propped me up against the stone wall.
Feverish waves shook my entire being. I could smell my burned hair and clothes.
He ripped off his hoodie, bunched it up, and cradled my head, slipping it underneath. My eyes grazed over the mark on his left arm as he sat back. It was just as Isaac had described the thin black line work.
