by Lola Dodge
“He won’t be able to hide from us now that we know his name.” Agatha gripped the rail at the side of my bed. “I’ve got a few things to say to that bastard.”
“No,” I said the word more firmly this time. “You need my help.”
Agatha’s eyebrow pulled up to her hairline. “What we need is for you to sit tight while we clean up this mess.”
“It doesn’t matter if we know who he is. You still can’t scry through his wards.” He was too much of a prodigy at them, even for the Syndicate. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to show his face in town, but he could hole up somewhere near the vortex and lure people in to make new Hands. Then he could keep attacking and attacking and we’d never find him. “We have to draw him out of hiding.”
“How would you do that?” Jane’s eyes had narrowed, already suspicious at what her patient was planning.
She wasn’t wrong to be suspicious. “If I play the bait—”
“No.” Wynn’s voice sliced through mine. He stood, knocking back the heavy hospital recliner, and loomed over me. Anger rolled off him in waves.
For once, I didn’t want to shrink back. The vein pulsing in his neck was oddly comforting. This was how Wynn was supposed to react.
I met his boiling gaze and didn’t flinch. “Seth wants me out of his way.” I gulped down a bubbling bit of shame. The how of it didn’t seem to matter. Whether I was dead or turned into one of his Hands, his whole agenda centered on hurting Agatha. I wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe he had genuinely wanted to work at the bakery and felt scorned? It didn’t really matter. Now he was a psycho and I was the perfect tool for getting his revenge. “He has to be furious that he lost me.” So, if he thought I was escaping for good, I was betting he’d try to stop me. “Now he thinks I’m beaten up and demoralized. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to leave town?”
I was beaten up—and whenever the painkillers and healing energies ran out I’d probably ache for days—but I wasn’t close to demoralized. Kicking myself, yes. An idiot, totally. That didn’t mean I’d run away. But if Seth thought so little of me, then he’d buy me fleeing town.
When he chased me, the Syndicate could grab him.
Agatha’s lips thinned as she considered. She turned to the other women. “What do you think?”
“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” Jane said. “If you’re discharged tomorrow, you still won’t be in great shape.”
“It’s better that way, isn’t it?” The frailer I looked, the easier a target I’d be—or so Seth would think.
My bed creaked as if Wynn was gripping the rail, but I didn’t turn back to him yet. Wynn wasn’t the person I needed to convince.
“The sooner we capture the warlock, the more damage we can contain.” Peggy drummed fingers against an arm, clearly thinking through the pros and cons. “I’m most concerned about the killing ground. If we don’t contain the warlock’s spirit, we could create more trouble.”
“That’s why my plan makes sense.” We had to lure Seth as far away from the vortex as possible. “I’ll grab a suitcase and pretend I’m flying home from Albuquerque. If you set a trap outside the canyon, I can draw him that way. Otherwise, we’ll be waiting around for him to attack with no way to control where he hits.” I’d had enough of waiting around doing nothing. Playing the bait would put me in danger again, but it was on my terms.
I wanted to take Seth down.
I had to, or I’d never forgive myself.
“Are you sure you’d be up to fighting him?” Jane asked.
“I’m sure.”
Jane turned to Agatha. “I leave the decision to you.”
“Cripes.” Agatha dug her fingers into her scalp. “We’ll do it your way, cupcake.” She whirled, heading for the door. “Join me, ladies? We’ve gotta make a few calls if we want this scheme set up for morning.”
Blair made no move to leave, but Peggy grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her from the room. She mouthed text you later as her mom dragged her away.
Jane nodded on her way out. “I’m on duty all night. Rest. No one will be able to hurt you in here.”
I sagged into my pillow, but I couldn’t relax yet. I still wasn’t alone.
Wynn gripped my bedrail with knuckles so white they looked like fists of bone. His T-shirt’s sleeve was torn, and his bandage from the last attack was gray with ash. He must’ve helped pulled me from the flames.
“Do you want to die?” He asked, voice unexpectedly soft.
Disturbingly soft. I considered pulling the blanket over my face, but then I’d have to move my IV wrist. “I don’t want to die.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” The bed frame creaked again. At this rate, Wynn would snap off the rail.
“I…misjudged Seth.” I’d only just started paying for that mistake.
A nurse popped in with a tray before Wynn could respond. She positioned the room’s rolling table over my lap and set down a covered plate. “It’s way past dinner, but Jane wants you to eat so you can take your healing brews on a full stomach. Don’t skip dessert.”
Any optimism I had left died when I lifted the lid. Limp egg noodles, a dish of withered lima beans, lumpy applesauce, and a hockey puck that was impersonating a brownie. A murky vial sat next to the juice box.
For the first time in my life, I really was considering skipping the brownie. I had no appetite and doubted I’d be able to choke down a bite while Wynn loomed.
Hoping to solve both problems at once, I lifted the spoon and applesauce and offered them to Wynn. “You have to be hungry.”
He made no move toward sustenance. But he really did have to be hungry. I couldn’t imagine he’d stopped for a snack between me being kidnapped and almost dying in a fire. I leaned forward enough to slip the spoon into the pocket of his jeans. His body was rigid with the same anger that showed in the flare of his nostrils.
If I could get him to eat the applesauce, he’d calm down. In my experience, apples and cinnamon canceled out most kinds of rage.
I considered dumping the sauce down his pants, but I’d already had more than enough contact with Wynn’s jeans. Cocking back my arm, I gave him plenty of warning before Frisbee-tossing the dish.
He caught it one-handed. A blob of sauce splashed onto his thumb. He switched the dish to his opposite hand before licking the finger and fixing me with a glare. “We’re going to talk about this.”
Wynn wanted to talk? With words? “Which this?”
He thunked into the bedside chair and crushed my expectations for the millionth time as he jammed aggressive spoonfuls of applesauce into his mouth. So he was hungry. Just more angry than hungry. I pushed a fork around in my noodles with no intention of eating them or speaking first. I wasn’t sure I could explain myself this time.
“My question.” The spoon clanged against the dish. “Do you want to die?”
“No.”
“You’re acting the opposite.” He bit the spoon and the sound of teeth on metal sent a shiver rolling down my spine.
I almost said am not, but then I’d sound like a toddler. “If I’d known Seth was th—”
“I’m talking about tomorrow. You volunteered to be bait for a warlock.”
That was what bothered him? I stabbed a noodle with my fork. “You weren’t there when he—” When he tried to take over my mind and body? My throat muscles contracted when I tried to say the words. “If I don’t do something, he’ll make more and more people into Hands. No one deserves that.” Seth would come after me again no matter what. At least this way, we had a chance to beat him.
Wynn slammed his empty applesauce dish so hard on the table that my juice box tipped. Someone isn’t won over.
I didn’t blame him, but I wasn’t giving in. I gripped my fork until the metal bit into my skin. “I’m sorry for making your job impossible, but I can’t back down this time. Seth is…” If not pure evil, then seriously deranged. I’d fallen into every trap he’d set, blinded by a stupid adoration that I really hoped had something to
do with magical compulsion. Touching death had shaken off whatever spell he’d cast over me and all I wanted to do was make up for the past few days of stupid mistakes. I forced myself to hold eye contact with Wynn even if fingers of shame wanted me tilting my face to stare at the floor. “I hope you’ll help me, but if you won’t I’m still going tomorrow.”
Wynn bit off his words. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
The sentiment should’ve been comforting—I wouldn’t have to run into danger by myself—but somehow Wynn made it like a threat. Like he planned on following me to the bathroom and watching me sleep from now on. I flinched. “It’s not like I’m running anywhere.”
“No. You’re not.” He folded his arms across his chest.
I didn’t have the energy to argue. My eyelids kept slipping down, reminding me how much magic I’d spent. I’d need to sleep for a week if I survived tomorrow.
I will survive. I gripped my fork hard and forced myself to start eating. I needed as much energy as I could build up for tomorrow, and that meant downing the brew and grabbing some sleep.
The flavorless pasta fell straight to the bottom of my stomach. I choked down half my plate before calling it enough of a meal to take my medicine. Compared to the healing brew, the noodles tasted like ambrosia. It was so bitter that my eyes crossed.
While I was chugging juice, Agatha slipped back into the room. She gave a little nod, seeing the empty vial in front of me and cleared it away to set her phone on the bed table. A map was open on her screen.
“Here.” Agatha pinch-zoomed to the spot she’d pinned on the canyon road. “There’s roadwork blocking one of the lanes on the canyon road, so anyone who drives through will be slowed. We’re sending a few of the ladies down tonight to set the trap. You draw that little bastard to this spot and we’ll take care of the rest.”
“I’ll be ready.” The brew was already worming through my veins, lulling me to sleep as it healed. All I had to do tomorrow was drive. “As soon as I’m discharged, I’ll run back to grab my suitcase.” Seth would be watching. He must’ve been watching this whole time. Waiting for his chance to use me against Agatha.
The cocktail of shame, anger, and the bitter brew made my cheeks flush. This time, I wasn’t sitting out of the spellwork. I zoomed the map back out to the second pin, just a finger’s width away from the construction spot. “You’ll cast your ward here?”
Agatha nodded. “Sylvia’s heading down to clear the ground. Warlock or not, that boy won’t be able to stand against a full circle of thirteen.”
“Fourteen.” I wanted in this time.
Agatha took back her phone. “Thirteen.”
“But, he—” The words stuck again, and I knew my eyes were turning glassy. I blinked and looked down at my chest. I’d be kicking myself for a while either way, but if I could help take Seth down, it would numb some of the sting. “I want to help.”
“You’re helping. And you can sure as hell watch.” Agatha patted my knee through my blanket. “But thirteen’s the magic number for this type of binding. Don’t worry, cupcake. I’ll get enough revenge for us to share.”
I kept my mouth shut but crossed my fingers there’d be a chance to take a piece out of Seth myself.
Chapter Twenty-Four
By dawn, I was too wired to sleep. I would’ve gotten up to pace, but the IV pulled at my skin whenever I moved. Instead, I stared at the ceiling, feeling every minute tick.
Wynn slept in the recliner chair at my bedside, his rest as unbothered as ever. When I finally caved and had to hit the bathroom, his eyes cracked open—so maybe he wasn’t as restful as he looked. Thankfully, he didn’t try to follow me in, or I would’ve whacked him with my IV stand.
The morning dragged on as we waited for the doctor to clear me. Nurses strode in and out, working around the Servants that Peggy had left in the hallway. Every time someone new stepped through the door, I flinched, fearing Seth had come for me after all.
Finally, the nurses unhooked me from the machines and handed me a fat stack of discharge papers, which I passed off to the closest Servant. Running straight off to challenge a warlock probably went against whatever the hospital was suggesting for my recovery, so I’d sit and read the instructions when I actually intended on following them.
Agatha had left me a burner phone to use until we replaced mine, which had probably melted in the fire. It was lunchtime when I finally had a moment to text. Just discharged. Running to Wus and then I’ll be on the way.
We’re holding position. Agatha sent back. But I bought you a ticket home. If he doesn’t take the bait, keep driving to Albuquerque.
My stomach swooped with shock. Home would be the safest place for me, but I wasn’t going to flee Taos just like that. It was my home to defend, too.
Walking out of the hospital, I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air. I hadn’t slept and I felt about as strong as spun sugar, but I refused to end this day by escaping on a plane. Not without getting a little revenge first.
Ten Servants flanked me all the way into their van, all with gun holsters strapped under their suit jackets. Wynn was less subtle, open-carrying a longsword. I doubted it was legal, but the more weapons on my side, the better.
We sped from the hospital back into town. When we reached the Wus, the driver pulled underneath the awning of their main entrance. My skin tingled with awareness in the few steps between the van and doorway. Hope you’re watching, Seth.
The wards zapped me as I crossed the threshold. I booked it past the waves of Servants stationed throughout the house. Wynn followed half a step behind. He’d bowl me over if I stopped walking, but I wasn’t slowing down.
Upstairs, I tossed my suitcase on the bed and started tossing in handfuls of the clean clothes the Servants had arranged in my dresser. I didn’t need to pack every little thing, but I wanted the bags to look realistically full just in case Seth smelled a trap.
My frenzied packing only slowed when I found the green bullet journal at the bottom of my drawer. The back of my neck tingled. I’d forgotten about it, but the Servants must have thrown it in my suitcase when they moved my things over from Agatha’s. My pulse thumped in my fingertips as I opened to the last page.
The last month in the bullet journal was June.
The month Haley disappeared.
I flipped to the front. There was no key for translating her icon system, so I still wasn’t sure what the tiny hand-drawn rainbows, clouds, or potion bottles meant. There were hearts and stars, and the cryptic shorthand didn’t help translate as I paged through. In the last month, a tiny slice of pizza appeared a few times on the monthly calendar. The last one was a pizza next to a little emoji face with X eyes.
The pizza.
Moretti’s. The restaurant that Hayley’s boyfriend had owned.
The restaurant where Seth worked.
I palmed my forehead. If I was guessing right, the chain of events finally made sense.
If Seth had found out about the affair between Hayley and his boss, the threat of tipping off the wife would’ve put Hayley in a tough spot. Maybe he’d started out trying to blackmail her into getting him a job at Agatha’s?
Whatever happened next, Seth had seriously flown off the rails.
It didn’t make sense. As desperate as I’d been to work at Agatha’s, I wouldn’t have killed for the job. Seth’s body count was up to at least three including his Hands.
Four, if I assumed Mr. Moretti was dead. Which seemed likely.
I closed the journal and had to sit on the edge of the bed to stop my head from spinning. Seth’s words kept echoing through my brain. She wouldn’t look at me.
Had he been jealous of Hayley’s job? Or Haley’s boyfriend?
I had to put my head between my knees for a second. It made me sick. The waste of life. I owed it to Agatha to tell her what I suspected, but when I pulled out my phone, my thumbs didn’t know what to say. Hayley has been dead this whole time? Seth’s even sicker than we guessed?
“What are you doing?” Wynn’s boots clomped to stand in front of me.
“I’m thinking.”
“Think later. You’ve got a flight to catch.”
I glared up at him. “I’m not going away.” As much as Wynn would love it if I did.
“Why do you think Agatha agreed to your plan?” He gripped his sword hilt. “Go home before this town kills you.”
“No.” I stood, putting us toe to toe. This was the one thing I’d never give in on. “I’m going to help the Syndicate trap a monster, but I’ll be back in my room at the bakery tonight. Get used to sleeping in that closet.”
My heart pounded as his gaze flicked back and forth. We were standing so close that his breath ruffled my hair, but I resisted the urge to step back. To retreat, I’d have to sit on the bed, and then he’d be standing over me again.
I wanted to come off strong for once. “Help me instead of fighting me. If we take out the warlock, maybe you can get out of your Shield contract. There wouldn’t be anyone I need protecting from. Isn’t that what you want?”
“My contract isn’t going anywhere.”
“Neither am I.” I pushed around him and re-started packing my bag. When it was full enough, I zipped it and grabbed my backpack. I dug through, but couldn’t find my wallet, so whatever Wynn and Agatha wanted, I wasn’t going on a plane today. No driver’s license, no flight.
I did one last sweep of the room, checking if there was anything else I needed. The powerful pieces of my jewelry were tapped out, and there was no time to stop by the store for more. Even if Agatha gave me the family discount, I had no cash or debit card. I was pretty sure I’d left my purse at the bookstore last night, but looking for it wasn’t important.
Was there anything else I needed? Anything that would keep me safe?
I wouldn’t be facing Seth head-on, so barring a safe driving charm, there was nothing that could help with my part of the plan. My insurance was Wynn.
