Renfield continued to slap at the wall, pinching whatever he’d flattened between two fingers and pitching it into his mouth. I tried not to think about kissing those lips again. Ever. The thought broke my heart in two. I wanted my Bobby back. I missed talking with him mind-to-mind, holding him, even being lectured. Without him I felt … incomplete.
The tunnel was littered here and there with abandoned toys, looking infinitely sad graying in the corners. I wondered if the passages had ever been used again after … whatever had happened to Jenny. I prayed she wouldn’t remember.
When we hit a bend in the tunnel, Jenny didn’t take the turn, but tapped at the wall across from it with her foot until she spun a stone inward. “The other way is a dead end,” she explained. “Help me?”
Ulric and Brent rushed to push against the wall where she stood, and it began to slide back and back until it opened into a bigger space. I had no idea where we were anymore, relative to the town above. Definitely not still under the magic shop where we’d started out. Jenny was now glowing brightly enough that we could see into the room revealed. And it was a room, rather than another passage. It looked to have been carved straight out of bedrock.
Brent glanced at Renfield, as if he expected him to spout more bad poetry or some historical facts, but he was far too busy using his non-existent nails to pick insect legs out of his teeth. I cringed.
Jenny skipped right into the room and whirled around happily. “Missy and Sarah and me used to play here. Sarah said this was a shelter, like whole families would come down here to ’scape … whatever, but … ” Her light dimmed. “But … ”
“But it didn’t work,” Brent finished for her, quietly.
It seemed like a strange thing to say, until I remembered that with his hand on the “door,” he’d know what had happened in this room. From the look on his face, it hadn’t been a happy thing.
“Jenny,” I said quietly, respecting, I guess, the solemnity of things, but also afraid to scare her. If this place had the memories I thought it did, she might bolt at any moment. None of us could blame her … or stop her. “Can you show us any hidey-holes? Were there places you and Missy and Sarah secreted things away?”
She turned her face toward me, but very, very slowly. “Huh?”
It sounded weirdly modern coming out of her mouth, but the befuddlement on her face made it poignant as well.
“Hiding places?” I asked.
“Hssst—he’s coming,” she said, backing up until she hit a wall and faded halfway into it. Then she sank down onto the floor as if she’d forgotten she could go straight through and escape. She balled herself up into the smallest package she could manage, trembling and flickering in fear.
“Who’s coming?” I asked, at the same time Brent said, “I know.”
“You know what?” I asked quietly. “Who’s here?”
“I know where to find the book.”
He staggered to the wall farthest from the entrance, like a puppet not in control of his own strings, and started pawing at the wall.
I ignored him.
“Who’s coming?” I repeated to Jenny. “The one who hurt you?”
She shook her head as if she could shake off the thought. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaking, “the man with the bedlam eyes.” She buried her head in her knees with a sob.
Crap. She didn’t mean Bobby. His crazy was already among us. Which meant we had company, and it was all my fault that Jenny was going to come face-to-face again with her darkest fears.
“Hurry!” I hissed at Brent, who was squatting on the ground, a section of the hardpacked floor dug up.
“I’ve got it!” Brent answered, rising with a dingy old book clutched in his hand. It was bound with string—or something stringy, anyway. I didn’t even want to think about what it might really be. Maybe sinew from whatever animal had given its hide for the front and back covers. The book was smaller than I’d expected, but there was no mistaking the immensity of the power coming off it.
Behind me came a sharp cry, and I turned to see such a look of avarice on Bobby’s—Renfield’s—face. He wanted the book, with a truly terrifying intensity.
“Watch out!” Ulric cried, as Renfield suddenly charged Brent. Ulric swung Olivia behind him, out of harm’s way, and then dashed to intercept. Renfield swatted him away like he was nothing, crashing him into the wall where he went down like a marionette with his strings cut. Olivia rushed to him and began chanting something under her breath.
I had to trust that they’d be okay. Renfield could not get control of that book.
I launched myself at him, but was grabbed straight out of the air by an arm that wrapped around my waist and hauled me back to the ground. I landed roughly, and rolled with the impact to come up facing my attacker—only to stare, stunned, into the face Ty McClellan, Ghouligan extraordinaire.
“Ty, what are you doing?” I gasped, not getting it at first. Maybe the impact had rattled my brain. Maybe it was on overload.
But he wasn’t looking at me. And his eyes … bedlam eyes, Jenny had called them. They were no longer their own crystalline color, but something infinitely darker, glittering like spider venom. Then I remembered how, back at the officer-involved shooting, he’d been as close to the crime scene as was physically possible. Close enough to catch the ghost fleeing the cooling body of its last host? Hellfire!
Ty was staring avidly at the fight Marcy and Brent were putting up with Renfield over the Book of Shadows, as if deciding whether to join in or wait to take on the victor. Marcy was pounding on Renfield’s back as he tried to wrestle the book out of Brent’s hands, but he might have been a brick wall for all he noticed. She needed help.
I flung myself in that direction, but fast as lightning, Ty grabbed my foot, yanking me back to the ground. I fell hard on my stomach and immediately flipped, twisting the ankle still gripped in his hand, but catching his jaw with my other foot.
His grip loosened and I kicked free, using my good leg to propel myself toward Renfield and the book. The amulet in my pocket flared suddenly, and pain burned its way straight through my side like I’d been branded. The agony dropped me to my knees.
“Enough!” A voice rang through the small room, bouncing around until I thought it might shatter my head. “The book is mine. I’ll take it.”
I looked up through the red haze of pain to see Rebecca entering from the tunnel, her hair tangled and still wet, her clothes clinging to her like eelskin as if she was some sea hag newly risen from the deep.
“Mistress!” Renfield cried, finally remembering. The sight of her gave him an extra burst of strength. He wrenched the book out of Brent’s arms and slammed him against the wall for good measure, as if he’d merely been playing with him all along. Then he used the book like a club to hit Marcy upside the head.
“Never! ” Ty said, blocking her way. “I’ll take the book. “Little girls like you oughtn’t play with power.”
Then two things happened at once—Renfield took a step toward Rebecca, ready to present her with the book, and Ty’s hand shot out again with preternatural speed, gripping Rebecca by the neck before she could receive it.
Renfield howled, looking ready to club Ty with the book, when Marcy shook off the blow he’d dealt her and tackled him around the legs. Renfield might not have been in a condition to feel her blows, but he didn’t have any control over velocity and balance. He started to topple. The book was on a path to slam right through Jenny where she sat shaking against the wall, but Olivia dashed in with a cry and grabbed the book out of Renfield’s outstretched hands, spiriting it away.
The near-miss snapped Jenny’s head up and her gaze into focus. She saw Rebecca struggling and Ty’s hands wrapped around her neck, and her eyes began to blaze.
“No!” she shouted, suddenly growing rock-solid and as present as any one of us, as if something had given her strength. “I won’t let you. Nononononono—NO!” She seemed to grow louder and bigger with each repetition until she was
the size of a Bengal tiger. “You won’t hurt anyone else ever.”
She burst out of her crouch, her anger giving her wings. She went for the fighters like a Fury, hands out like claws, fear and determination strengthening her until she was more solid now than ever. Her nails pierced Ty as she punched straight through him at chest level. His eyes rolled up into his head and he convulsed, collapsing even as she flew out again, her momentum slamming her into Rebecca, who clutched at her heart like she was having an attack. She fell on top of Ty, in a crumpled and barely breathing heap.
“Master?” Renfield asked, trying to crawl to Rebecca’s side. Marcy still clung to his legs, and he kicked at her viciously, trying to dislodge her.
“Stop, Bobby. Stop! Fight this!” I cried with my head as well as my heart, hoping some part of me could reach him. “Bobby!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs, when he didn’t so much as pause.
Then I did the one thing I never thought I’d do again—I leapt forward, over downed bodies and all, to kiss those lips. Even without the benefit of industrial-grade cleansers.
He froze in shock. A statue.
I didn’t know who I was kissing, but he wasn’t going for the kill, and that was a good thing. I pressed myself to him and breathed against his lips, “Remember.”
Slowly, achingly slowly, his arms came up around me, and I knew then. I knew this hold, this body, this kiss.
Bobby! my heart cried, and as if he heard me, his arms tightened.
I knew we had company, and that this wasn’t really over yet … but none of it mattered right then. I was afraid to stop for fear of losing him again.
“Uh, guys … ”
It was Olivia. “Uh, can we get out of here before everybody comes around?”
I laughed. It was one of those stress-relief laughs where nothing’s actually funny, but you just can’t hold in the joy. I had Bobby back, at least for now. I’d brought him back. He came back because of me. I took Bobby’s hand in mine and hung onto it for all I was worth. If he reverted, at least I’d have him held fast.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Olivia hugged the Book of Shadows to her like it was the most precious thing in the world. Ulric got Marcy and Brent to their feet. Brent swayed a little as he rose, but he managed to stay upright as he limped toward the door. We left Rebecca and Ty where they’d fallen. No, Rebecca and the Salem Strangler, whoever he’d been in life. I hoped they wouldn’t wake up and kill each other before we could put all the spirits to rest.
“Get her blood,” Olivia ordered me, “and hair. I don’t know what we’ll need to break the spell, but the amulet’s bound to her, so we’ll need something of hers for the unbinding.”
I could go her one better. Rather than just collect Rebecca’s blood, I could take some of it into me. If we couldn’t break the enchantment on the amulet, maybe her blood bond with it would transfer to me. At the least, perhaps I could divide its loyalties. I would never let Rebecca use it against us again.
And I would find a way to give Jenny peace. She’d more than earned it. I was so proud of her for fighting her demon and making her own justice, all these years later. I hoped it would bring her peace as well.
I pulled Rebecca’s jacket aside. My fangs were already fully onboard with the plan, and I sank them deep into her neck. All the action had made me hungry, but even so I could only take so much of her. There was something sour about her blood. Rebecca was rotten, bitter … but whether it was in body or spirit, I couldn’t tell. I pulled back well before I’d drunk my fill and used a strip I’d torn from her jacket lining to catch some of her leftover blood before it congealed. I pulled a few strands of her hair out by the roots and wrapped them in the lining, tucking them into my jacket pocket—the one not the one holding the pendant, which no longer burned me like the sun.
Ghost-Jenny followed us out, small and unassuming again. A six-year-old child in form, a tigress at heart. She tripped the secret latch to close the door behind us.
17
As soon as we got into the car, the pendant started to vibrate just a little … or maybe had been vibrating all along, but I’d missed it in the midst of all the action. I realized after a second that it was more like a purr, a melodic rumble, like it was somehow aware and happy to be reunited with the book. Like there was some kind of resonance between them. Since rising from the dead, I’d come to terms with vampires and telepaths and witches—oh my! Now I had to accustom myself to self-aware objects? A girl could only take so much.
“Is someone … humming?” Olivia asked.
Then a funny look came over her face. “Wait, I think it’s the book.”
“Or the amulet,” I said.
“Weird.”
I laughed. That was weird. For a witch, she had a pretty low bar for weird.
“Shut it,” I told the pendant. It stopped just like that. Rebecca’s blood had to be working through me.
“Where are we going?” Ulric asked, not that the lack of direction had stopped him from putting distance between us and Old Town. Already we were blocks away.
“The Morbid Gift Shop,” Olivia said. “It’s closed for the night, and the theater’s dark. Chip said he’d set up the circle and have it all ready for us.”
Ulric didn’t say anything in response, but he seemed extra focused on the rearview mirror.
“Everything okay?” I asked him.
“Ye-ah. I thought I saw a car following us, but it turned off at the last cross street and hasn’t reappeared.”
“What made you think it was following?”
He shrugged. “Too many cop shows?”
“Let us know if you see it again.”
The amulet had stayed silent, and the car was now so quiet we could actually hear the chirping of the cicadas or frogs or whatever Salem had that made night noises. It would have been peaceful if it weren’t so tense. I didn’t trust the quiet.
“Hey,” Bobby said into it, his voice warm and deep and totally his … just like me.
“Hey, yourself,” I said huskily.
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder and breathing him in.
“Why does my mouth taste all foul?” he asked.
Ulric laughed and Marcy made a choking sound.
“You don’t want to know,” I answered. “Trust me.”
“With my life,” he said.
It was Ulric’s turn to gag, but he stopped quickly as we came to the mall and he found a place to park around back, where the Crown Vic might not be quite so visible.
Olivia pulled out her phone to call Chip to let us into the locked mall.
“How long do these spells usually take?” I asked her.
“As long as they take,” she answered helpfully. She patted the book. “Let’s just hope there’s something helpful in here that’ll break or block the amulet’s power and that we don’t have to come up with a spell from scratch. That would take a lot longer.”
Chip unlocked the doors for us and let us precede him so that he could lock up again. The Morbid Gift Shop exhibited an unearthly glow as we approached. I realized how on edge I was when I saw that the glow I was getting all worked up about was only candlelight, flickering behind the curtains and screens that set off the theater area. I didn’t know what had me so edgy, but I had the sense of something pending, unfinished, oncoming. For the life or death of me, I couldn’t think what it was. Rebecca and Ty were out cold; Sid and Maya were hopefully still tied up …
Brent studiously avoided touching the cage, the coffin, or any of the other antique-looking doodads decorating the gift shop. Based on the tension in his shoulders as he and Marcy preceded Bobby and me, he was feeling the energies anyway. If I had to guess, the proximity of the pendant was making the vibes all that much stronger.
We followed Chip through the curtains into the theater area, where we got to see the candles up close and personal. The chairs that were usually set out for the Gothic Magic Show had been folded up and pushed back to the outer edg
e of the space, to make room for a huge chalk circle in the midst of which was a pentagram. Olivia’s fellow witches were standing around it.
Irish came forward. He looked a lot more … mystical now that he’d ditched the cable-knit sweater for some midnight-blue robes tied with a silver cord.
“May I see the book?” he asked.
Olivia moved out from behind Bobby and me to present it to him, holding it in both hands like an offering and giving it over with a little bow.
“The amulet?” he asked.
I withdrew it from my pocket and let the obsidian stone dangle where it could be seen.
“Place it in the center of the circle,” he ordered. No please or thank you. Just do.
I shot a look at Olivia for reassurance that this was what she’d expected, and she gave me the nod.
I expected to feel something when I stepped over the chalk outline of the circle, but there was nothing. Maybe it hadn’t yet been activated, or whatever it was they did. I laid the pendant down in the center and backed away as Irish thumbed through the book. His eyes got bigger with every page turned, and I could see Bobby watching him avidly. I wondered if he could read upside-down and then realized that this was Bobby. He could probably read upside-down, backwards, in Morse code and even Swahili. The thought gave me the chills. I was fine with him having the information, but not his brain-buddy. And with his memory …
“Blood,” Irish said.
I handed the bit I’d collected, along with the hair, to Olivia, since he didn’t have any more hands for holding.
“Maybe we should step into the other room,” I said to Bobby once everything was out of my hands. “Someone needs to stand guard.”
“You trying to get me alone?” he asked, teasing.
“You know it,” I answered.
I meant it … as soon as I could be sure we’d be truly alone. The smile I gave him was bittersweet.
The pendant seemed to call to me as we walked away. It was like a tug, as from an elastic tether that would pull tighter and tighter with each step I took. But we stopped long before it could become a problem.
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