Storm: a Salt novel (Entangled Teen)

by Danielle Ellison

  “Penelope, please.” Gran says. “Don’t leave us.”

  Leaving is the only thing I can do to spare them. I’m too dangerous now.

  As the door closes behind me, I decide they are strangers. I feel nothing for strangers.

  …

  I meet Lia in some condemned old house near Great Falls Park. The outside is covered in wood that’s blackened with rot, bowing and splintering from damage. “This is cozy,” I say.

  “I don’t like to be at the same place more than once. Not now that your people are all suspicious. The last thing we need is an interference.”

  “Agreed,” I say. “Is this the big surprise?”

  She shakes her head, and Bemnel steps into the room from the outside.

  “An ambush?

  “You’re on edge today,” he says.

  “A lot on my mind,” I say.

  I watch as three more demons step into the run-down once–upon-a-time house. One is gray, one is blue, and one is wearing the skin of a middle aged overweight, balding man. Lia points to me. “This is Penelope Grey.”

  “Nice to meet you,” the gray one says. “I’m Asag.” It points to the blue demon. “That’s Sharir.”

  “I can introduce myself, Asag,” the blue one says. “I’m Sharir.”

  “Charmed,” I say. Bemnal crosses his arms, watching in amusement.

  “Jerry,” the one in a man suit says.

  “Jerry?” I repeat.

  He nods. Whatever, then. No one moves or speaks for another minute, but they all stare at me. Waiting. “Why am I here?”

  Bemnel answers instead of Lia. “Because we’re a right fun bunch of buggers. You need people on your side, and we’re the best lot around.”

  “The best?”

  “Aye, or the most entertaining,” he winks.

  “Oh, so you do tricks? Show me one.”

  Sharir leans toward Asag. “I like this one.”

  Lia puts up her hand. “Enough. Penelope, dear, there’s one problem we’ve been working on for you. The present I mentioned.”

  “Which is?”

  “You are snappy,” she says. She takes my wrists and holds them forward. “We’re going to remove the mark so Cinderella can go to the ball.”

  My jaw drops. “You can do that?”

  Lia moves her hands in the air like a teetering scale. “We’ve never done it. I had to gather the right demons, ones who could harness the most magic, but we’re resourceful.”

  “And if you fail?”

  She shrugs. “Without it you won’t even be able to enter the hall, so it’s worth a try.”

  “But our plan to use the relay was—”

  “I was stalling,” she says. “Come on. Let us give it a go.” I nod, because what else can I do, and Lia smiles. She readjusts the way I’m standing and makes me pose so my wrists are pointed out toward the group of demons. They all gather around me, touch my wrist, and start chanting.

  They chant. It feels like hours. Nothing happens.

  And then it does. The pain is like knives in my wrists, tightening and pulling my muscles apart. Then it’s stiff and tingly. Then it feels like my bones are being broken before mending. It’s all happening at once, and I scream against the pain. I’m pretty sure the void comes shooting out of me, but it’s all fuzzy until it’s all black.

  When I wake up, I’m still on the floor, all the demons looking down at me. “Did it work, lass?” Bemnel asks.

  I look at my wrists. There’s nothing there. It’s my wrist without a band.

  “I think so,” I say.

  He smiles. Lia holds out a hand for me. “Let’s get ready for the ball.”

  Chapter Forty

  Carter

  The dance is already in full swing when I show up. The whole area of the Nucleus House is packed with people. Despite the chilly weather, people are still outside in the overflow. Even the impending doom of Static magic can’t stop a celebration.

  I squeeze through some Enforcers. A few of them look at me, eyebrows raised or face twisted in disgust. I recognize the suspicious looks. They don’t know what to believe anymore, about Penelope’s halfling status, given and then revoked. Or what that means for me.

  Someone says my name as I pass, but I don’t stop to pay attention to who it is. I need to find Penelope. She has to be here. She said she would do the Restitution tonight, and if she is the gift prophesized, the sole witch,then I have to stop her. If I can just talk to her one more time, I can try to convince her to listen to me, or I have to stop her. If I can’t do it, then there’s Plan B: tell my dad. It’s the only other option, but I can’t think about what they’ll do her to stop her.

  Some of the other Enforcers slap me on the back as I walk through them. I flash my Prescott smile, and make small talk through the crowds. They all know who I am. Everyone. Someone mentions Penelope’s name, but I turn away, heart pounding. The music drowns out most of what they say and carries the words away into the night. I can’t start talking about her. I need to stay on task. They can be suspicious if they want, but it won’t change anything. I can’t focus on that right now.

  Waiters in bowties walk around the whole yard outside and through the interior doors with silver trays of food. There are witches and Statics everywhere. When we’re all meshed into a room, it’s impossible to tell who is who. I like it that way. If this day had gone the way it was supposed to, Pen would be here on my arm and we’d be enjoying this together. This brief moment of unification, where there are no titles, just people.

  I glance around the room as Jordan Stark waves me over, then steps away from his group toward me. “Prescott, we were just talking about you.”

  “Yeah? All good things about how you can’t compare to me?” I ask with a smile. They all laugh. I don’t know anymore if it’s because of my charm or because of my name. I guess it doesn’t matter.

  “That program with the Statics, they said in the meeting today it was coming back. I want to help out. We all do.”

  It’s coming back? I missed that meeting today, but I stare at Jordan, waiting for a joke. He’s serious. “Why?”

  Jordan looks toward the ground. “I knew Taylor Plum. Shira’s pretty torn up about it, and I want to be there to support them after Mrs. Arthur. Besides, with Maple and Ric and all the others, well, I see where you’re coming from.”

  “Yeah, definitely. Let’s talk about it later.”

  Jordan smiles. “Cool.” He takes a step closer. “And that stuff with your girlfriend…” I don’t respond, just stare at him. “Did you know she was a halfling?”

  I glance away from him and my eyes scan the room, and I’m about to say something very un-Prescott, but then I see her. Alone, in the corner near the door. She must’ve just gotten here.

  “See you later, Jordan.”

  Pen is standing in that same green dress that she wore last month, the one from our pairing, and she’s beautiful. Others walk around her, careful not to go near. I am amazed that she’d even show up here, after the news about her status, but Pen’s never really cared about what they think of her. She’s mad at me, but that’s not really her. It’s the magic. It’s whatever the demon is telling her, and the stress. Penelope loves me, and that doesn’t go away. Not just like that.

  Suddenly, she looks up. Right at me across the room of people. It’s strange and cliché to feel, in that moment, that I knew exactly what she was thinking, but I did. I could see it on her face, and in her eyes. Even with hundreds of people standing between us, some whispering, some pointing. She looks away from me, toward the large clock above my head, and her eyes darken. Nearly midnight.

  I move quicker toward her, hoping that she won’t decide to run away again. Or worse.

  I vaguely notice the Triad standing off to the side of the room, and my father’s glance in my direction. I don’t give a shit about what he thinks. Or anyone else. Not right now. Not when this is the last chance I have. Let them say whatever they want. I want to be the one th
ere for her when no one else thinks it’s right—she’d do that for me.

  “Hey,” I say with a smile.

  Pen blinks, focuses her gaze on me. She leans in closer, so near that I can almost feel her breath on my skin. “You shouldn’t be talking to me.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Your dad,” she starts, nodding across the room. I don’t look anywhere but at her.

  “I don’t care,” I repeat. I tilt my head toward the exit. “Come with me.”

  She shifts on her feet. “You won’t change my mind about anything.”

  Good. That means my Pen is still in there somewhere. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

  With a quick glance at the clock, she nods in agreement. “Five minutes.”

  Five minutes is all I need.

  I hope.

  We find a quiet corner outside the Nucleus House and away from the people. The cold air is a reminder of all the pieces I’ve put together that Pen doesn’t know about. Of all the things that are happening. Things that have yet to come.

  Pen crosses her arms. “What do you need to talk about? I think I’ve made myself clear on all of this.”

  I shake my head. “I know you love me, Penelope, but you’re scared.”

  “And you’re in denial,” she snorts.

  I smile the Prescott smile, charm and smolder, and if she notices the difference between my real one and this one, then she doesn’t comment on it. “I think that’s you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I lower my voice and step closer to her. “Let me help you.”

  “I’m not in trouble.” But she doesn’t look at me when she says it. She’s trying to hide. I won’t let her hide. If she’s going to kick my ass and serve it up on a platter, then I’ll at least get words in this time. I push some of her hair behind her ear, but she flinches and backs away.

  “It’s probably better if you don’t touch me,” she says. “I can’t control it when I’m touched.”

  Finally, some information. “Can’t control the void?”

  “I hurt people…”

  “Like who?” She looks at me, and I notice that her eyes are strange again. Darker than usual, glassy, completely empty of any emotion. It gives me the chills. “You can tell me.”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  I move in closer until I’m only an inch away and her breath hitches. “Don’t touch me,” she whispers. But even as she says it her body leans into mine. Like that’s exactly where it wants to be.

  “Why can’t I touch you?”

  Her lip quivers and she’s not making eye contact. “I’ll break you, worse than before. When people touch me, I ruin them: Connie, Gran, Pop. Everyone.”

  “You won’t ruin me,” I say with force.

  Finally, she looks in my eyes. “I will. I already have.”

  “You didn’t and you won’t,” I repeat. I need to show her that she can trust me. That we can touch each other. That I’m here. She closes her eyes as I let my fingertips graze her cheek. She opens her eyes again after a moment, almost surprised. “See? It’s fine.” I run my fingers down her neck and slide my other hand around her waist.

  “Don’t push it,” she whispers. “It’s unpredictable.”

  I kiss her neck. “Control it.”

  Again and again I kiss her, up her jaw, her cheek, and run my hand down her neck.

  “You won’t do anything to me.”

  Her hands finally move from her side and down my shoulders to rest on my back. My heart is racing from her touch. If I can let her forget all of the other things, let her think about us, then, maybe we can stop this. If she thinks she can be strong, if she trusts me again, then we can undo this damage.

  Pen stares at me, and I refuse to look away, refuse to let go of her. Her usual cool blue eyes flash a deep green, and that should worry me, but it’s not too late. It’s not too late yet.

  Then she closes the space between us. Her tongue finds mine, and her hips press into me, trapping herself between the wall and me. It’s me and her, like it was before, like it should be. No magic or demons or Statics or lies.

  And being like that, with her, I will never let those things keep us apart. I can say I’ll fight for her, but I’m going to do more. I’m going to show her.

  When we part for air, I press my forehead against hers and breathe her name. It’s like a spell on my lips. She inhales the mingled air between us. “It’s not too late.”

  She sniffles, her voice low. “I wanted to protect Connie.”

  “We can find a way, Pen. We always find a way. The Restitution, the demons aren’t the answer.” I’m saying it all too quickly, expecting too much, but I want her to say yes. I want her to find her way back. To this side, to us, to me, to herself.

  Pen buries her face into my shoulder. Wetness spreads on my suit, and I hold her tighter as she starts to cry. I run my hand over her hair. “The void is part of me now. It’s claimed me.”

  I hold her tighter against me until her body melds into mine. The void is part of her. If she wasn’t marked, she would be able to harness both magics. But since she is, there’s still time.

  “I was trying to do the right thing, but now…” She doesn’t finish the thought. “I’m so angry, and I don’t know who—” The rest of her sentence is lost in my jacket. “I’m a monster.”

  I pull away from her so I can see her face. “You’re not a monster.”

  “I am,” she says. She looks at me again with that emotionless stare, the one that means she’s gone again. “We’ll do the Restitution and then everything will be better. You’ll see.”

  I need her to fight this magic, to stay here. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  She pauses, and shakes her head, hair falling from the fancy knot on her head. “The demons are the only ones who are willing to help me be a witch again. And the void is the only way to fix everything.”

  “They’re lying to you.”

  She shakes her head, but her eyes are focused on me again. Focused and bright with anger or determination. “It’s not a lie. No one else understands except her. Everything Lia said has happened.”

  I toss my hands into the air, and take a step back. “This is what she’s wanted all along. She wants you to have no one left so you need the demons because they need you. They’re using you.” Pen looks confused, face all scrunched up. I reach for her hand and inhale. “There was a prophecy that one witch would come who could harness the power to destroy one side of magic forever—so afterward there’s only void or essence. And that person is you. They are doing all of this to get you.”

  Her breath hitches, and I can see her hands shake, even though she’s not moving. “What?”

  “I’ve looked into this with Poncho. You still trust him, right? And Vassago. It’s real—and this is what they want. They want to get rid of witches forever.”

  “They want me to destroy the other side?”

  “You have to have an essence and the void, a halfling. This is what I’ve been trying to stop.”

  “Wait—what do you mean? You’ve been trying to stop what?”

  “The Restitution. There has to be a balance, and that balance is way more than you choosing a side and becoming a demon. If you do this, then you’ll destroy the essence and everything associated with it.”

  There’s silence as she looks toward the ground. “I would destroy everyone?”

  I reach out for her hand. “If the void is part of you, then you have the power to do that. It’s a good thing you’re marked—it will be harder for the demons to work the Restitution around that.”

  She looks down at her hand, anger and horror on her face. Her fingers trace along her arm, but there’s nothing there. How is there nothing there? What happened to the blackness?

  “How long?” she asks, her eyes wide with disbelief and anger. Her jaw is taut, her eyebrows set in arches.

  “What?”<
br />
  “How long have you known about this?” She yells it, her chest rising and falling heavily.

  I sigh. “Since right after you were marked.”

  “Weeks,” she says, she shouts. “Weeks and you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “I wanted to make sure I knew what we were getting into. Every time I tried, the demon thwarted me because she knew what I learned, she had to. Then, you wouldn’t even talk to me about it. I was trying to do it on my own, but that obviously didn’t work.”

  She pushes me, and I stumble backward. “You should’ve told me.” She pushes me again. Her skin starts to glow white as she pushes me again.

  “Pen, stop.”

  “How could you?” The words seem to rip from her throat.

  I grab her arms and stop her from moving. Force her to look at me. The light of the void pulses through her skin like a strobe light. “It’s not too late.”

  Then the clocks strikes. Midnight. It’s officially the Observance. The day has begun. Her eyes are wide and her face pale.

  “Yes, it is,” she says.

  I blink, shaking my head. I start to ask what she means, but then she flickers out of my arms. I didn’t even know she could do that. Or how. But it’s not good.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Penelope

  It’s too late for second thoughts. When I re-enter the party, the Triad is onstage in the center of the room. All the witches and Statics stand around in their best dresses, listening and smiling. I’m supposed to meet Lia in the center of the room at 12:05. Even though part of me says to trust her, the other part wonders about what Carter has said. Will this really wipe out the witches?

  “Tonight we have gathered to remember,” Victor Prescott says from his spot on the stage. Sabrina Stone and Rafe Ezrati stand beside him. “This day marks the year of our creation, the fall of Lucifer and the betrayers, and the beginning of our quest to protect Nons. Today is a celebration,” Victor adds. He speaks with such authority that it’s hard not to listen to him. “Today we honor the gifts we’ve been given, even in a time of uncertainty and danger.”

  I move toward the exit that doesn’t lead to anything except the Triad offices. Carter’s words play in my head. If I do this, then they’re all dead. My family. Everyone.