by Larissa May
We silently filed into Dobra’s office. He’d switched on a lamp, bathing the space in a soft, golden light. The effect was soothing, and I sank into the same leather chair I’d chosen hours before. I’d never felt so tired. My bones threatened to melt into the leather just as the shovel seeped into the earth. Evie, a steadying hand on my shoulder, stood next to me. Miro leaned against his father’s desk and drummed his fingers on the shiny mahogany. Behind him, his mother’s desk stood in the corner, a symbol of Dobra’s regret. We find ways to punish ourselves, I thought.
Dobra reached into his pocket and drew out an envelope. He tossed it at me, spilling cloves into the air. “Care to explain what this is about?”
Stunned and embarrassed, I just looked at him, my mouth gaping open.
“Dad—” Miro interrupted.
“I want to know what’s going on,” he demanded. “What were you doing in my garden tonight?”
“Easy,” Evie hissed. “She was with me. I’m her aunt.”
“Do you take guardianship for her? And for that . . . beast?”
Evie brought the demon into the garden before we came inside. I’d never seen someone as visibly furious as Dobra when he saw a demon lassoed to his fence.
I didn’t know what Evie was going to say to him, but I expected her to say something. When she didn’t, I looked up to meet her eyes and saw they were brimming with tears.
“I could take responsibility for her, but my sister wouldn’t be happy with that,” she said. “So until we know definitely whether Breeda’s parents are alive or… dead, we should operate under the assumption that they will be found. Breeda can sleep in my spare apartment, though I don’t think that’s the best place for her, given that a known practitioner of Black Magic recently broke in and ripped her parents from their beds. I prefer she sleeps in my shop tonight.”
“An alchemist’s shop is not exactly ideal, either,” Miro grumbled.
Fire sparked in Evie’s eyes, burning away the tears. “And this house is better? I know who you people are, and I know what you do.” She looked at Dobra’s lined talisman with disgust. “I see Black Magic is here as well, and will always be under this roof, no matter what you do to make up for your wrongdoings. If you think I’m letting my niece sleep unprotected in one of your beds, you’re crazy.”
Miro’s lip curled into a sneer. “So you don’t want us to consecrate your stone? Maybe one of your many friends can help?”
I sensed Evie had contacts and clients, not friends. Her fingers twitched, curling toward the heavy, silver cuffs around her wrists. But I knew she wouldn’t attack. We needed them.
Dobra raised an eyebrow. “Consecrate?”
“This alchemist has a stone that belongs to Breeda’s maternal line,” Miro said. “We might be able to use it to make a talisman.”
“And she brought it tonight?” Dobra asked. “Is that why she came here?”
Miro didn’t say anything, probably because he had no idea why Evie came. The silence stretched awkwardly; then Evie spoke up. “The demon is still bewitched, but when that wears off, it’ll want to tear apart the witch who did it. Since the demon was sent to capture Breeda, I want to know who that witch is.”
“It does sound like a sensible plan,” Dobra said, looking at Evie with a small amount of respect. “You should continue to test his loyalties.”
“I will,” Evie promised. “Now, will you consecrate my family’s stone? Breeda is at a definite disadvantage without a talisman.”
“Breeda’s been at a disadvantage from birth,” Dobra said.
Miro winced. “Dad, it isn’t right for us to allow her to practice without a talisman if we can help it. You know we can’t turn our backs on this.”
I saw the pain of the past in both their postures. Miro hunched toward his father and Dobra leaned away from him, unable to offer comfort. He ignored his son and addressed me instead.
“You will stand on your own two feet with a true talisman around your neck. Do you understand what I’m saying?” he said.
“I do.”
“Then I will begin preparations. Tomorrow night, at midnight, we will consecrate the stone. Now I’m going to do something I rarely do—especially with an alchemist—which is to be a gentleman.”
Evie barked a laugh. “What did you have in mind?”
“Tonight you will share the guest room with Breeda,” he said. “After the ceremony you will lay your head wherever it falls.”
“She doesn’t have to,” I said. I wasn’t averse to the thought of Evie staying, but if she didn’t want to stick around the next morning, I’d have a hard time getting away to see Seralina. I didn’t know what was going to happen with Brandon, but if I could find her, I could at least try to connect some dots regarding Sandy.
Evie’s stare was so hard, I wondered if she could drill a hole into Dobra’s forehead through sheer force of will. “If you want me to babysit my niece, you might as well come right out and say it.”
“I’m certain you can handle anything that comes her way,” Dobra said evenly.
“What about the demon?” Evie smiled, but there was more than a hint of steel in it. “Do you want to keep it hitched to your fence?”
For a second, Dobra’s composure fell, and uncertainty clouded his eyes. Then he said, “We have a root cellar underneath the basement. You can tie him up there.”
Evie opened her mouth to protest, but when she saw my half-closed eyes, she nodded. “Fine, I’ll be Breeda’s bodyguard tonight. But if any of you try something funny I’ll melt the gold from all your teeth.”
CHAPTER 25
I woke up from the strangest sleepover ever, certain of what step I needed to take next. Seralina was at the top of my list. I wanted to know if she really did intend to join Sandy’s coven. I also wanted her to explain my reading. The cards were trying to tell me something, and I wanted a clearer picture of the message.
Evie lay on the floor next to my bed, snoring away, her eyelids fluttering with metallic dreams. I slid out of bed and tiptoed over her, closing the bedroom door gently behind me. I showered quickly, braided my hair, and slipped on leggings and a black T-shirt that still held the scent of rosemary.
When I returned to the guest room, Evie was gone. I panicked for a moment, then heard her deep, rich voice coming from the kitchen.
“You should never flip an omelet,” Evie said as I walked in. “It’s like tossing a baby in the air and hoping she doesn’t land on her head. Here, give me that.”
Miro stood at the stove, pan in hand. He blocked her reach and shot Evie a disdainful look. “If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”
Shelley sat at the table, squirming in her chair, trying not to laugh. She patted the seat next to her, and when I sat down, said, “You need to tell me everything. What went on here last night?”
“Later,” I murmured. “We’re going to Seralina’s, if I can figure out where she lives. I can fill you in on the way.”
“Ion texted me their address,” Shelley whispered. “They’re staying at the Moonstone.”
I glanced at Evie, now digging hungrily into the omelet Miro prepared, much to his obvious satisfaction. I hadn’t had a chance to ask her about what Sandy said, and I didn’t have the luxury of waiting for a more opportune time. “Are you joining Sandy’s new coven?” I asked.
Evie spit out a mushroom. “Has she been blabbing about that? I told her I might.”
Miro stifled a laugh.
“What?” I said.
“Yeah . . . what?” Evie asked.
He poured more egg into the pan. “Alchemists are notorious loners. You might be an exception,” he said, dumping a handful of mushrooms onto the cooking omelet, “but I doubt it.”
Vadim walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. He didn’t react much when he saw Evie, only glanced at her as she stood and began to wash her dish in the sink.
“Vadim, meet Evie the Alchemist,” Miro said, watching Vadim for a reaction.
He
didn’t get one. Vadim grunted a hello and grabbed a plate. “Nothing surprises me anymore,” he mumbled.
Evie leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “You know, I had a coven once and I’ll have one again. It’s not a bad thing when someone has your back.”
“I’m with you there,” Shelley said. She stood up and placed her half-finished glass of orange juice in front of Vadim. He gave her a half smile and drank it down.
Miro opened a cabinet and pulled out a bundle of wild sage. “I need to begin clearing the house of all influences,” he said. “That means you guys need to get out.”
“Fine,” Shelley and I said at the same time. We wanted to get over to Seralina’s and Miro was offering the perfect opportunity.
Our enthusiasm raised Evie’s eyebrows. Before she could question us, Miro shoved a Post-it at her. “The ceremony requires these items from the family,” he said. “Especially the cauldron. Do you have the Soledads’?”
Evie frowned. “It’s tucked away in my spare apartment, where Breeda was staying. I planned to bring that demon back to my shop first thing. Do I need to get it right now?”
“As quickly as you can,” Miro replied. “I need to start oiling it. I should have begun hours ago.”
“First, Breeda needs to say a big old hello to the demon,” Evie said. “If he’s not bewitched anymore, he won’t give her another glance. Then he’ll lead me to whoever did it.” She looked at me. “You’ll stick with me today, okay?”
Not really okay. But the demon might lead me to whoever took my parents. I nodded.
“I’ll go with you,” Shelley offered. “And after that, if the demon still wants you, we’ll go to the café and hang out.” She turned to Evie. “She shouldn’t exert herself today.”
Miro nodded in agreement. “And anyway, Gavin hasn’t returned to the apartment since the night her parents were taken, but she shouldn’t take a chance visiting it, even with you,” he said to Evie.
“How do you know no one’s been back?” Evie asked. Her tone was neutral, but her body went completely rigid.
“Vadim’s stopped by a couple of times,” Miro said.
“Nothing’s been touched,” Vadim offered.
Evie turned to him, a murderous look in her eye. “You’ve been in my apartment?” she boomed.
Vadim, looking bored, shrugged.
“You’re not going back,” she insisted. “If someone sets foot in there again, I’ll know.”
I didn’t quite understand how she’d know that. Miro obviously felt the same way, and rolled his eyes. “He needs to stick around here anyway. The consecration ceremony requires three men and three women.”
“Look,” Evie growled, “don’t act like you have all the control in this situation, because you don’t. Just because you are doing this for my niece doesn’t mean you have any jurisdiction over me. Understood? If I want to bring her with me, I will.”
“She’s hidden here,” Miro retorted, “and I’d like to keep it that way.”
A malicious smile spread across Evie’s face. “Not hidden too well if her boyfriend could find her.”
I sank in my chair while Miro stared me down.
“See you downstairs, niece,” Evie said lightly, and took off down the hall.
Miro slammed the dishes into the sink, the sound of china crashing against the stainless steel the only sound in the room. Shelley mouthed good luck and went to wait out the drama in the guest bedroom.
“What else are you keeping from me?” he finally said, the hurt in his voice only bested by the anger. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“It’s . . . complicated. I grew up with him, Miro. Brandon and I were together until he left for the training center in Seaside, which I now know is where all of our coven’s witches go to transition. If I told you I was meeting him, you wouldn’t have let me go alone, and he would have run sooner.”
“He ran away? Why? What is he hiding?”
“He was afraid of the demon.”
“At least he’s intelligent,” Miro said without a trace of humor in his voice.
“He’s been running around the city looking for Gavin,” I explained. “Nothing much has come up beyond the fact that Brandon’s mother, who he hasn’t seen in years, is here as well. That can’t be a coincidence. I don’t know anything about her, or what she’s capable of, only that she might be helping Gavin. Brandon doesn’t know where my parents are, but he is convinced his dad is dangerous.”
“Does he know you’re unmarked?”
“I didn’t tell him. I didn’t even tell him I’d started to get my magic.”
“Why not?” Miro said, and then knelt before me, wrapping his hands around my upper arms. He pulled me closer to him, the kitchen chair scraping against the wood floor. Surprise caught the breath in my throat. “What stopped you? Wouldn’t you want to share that with your boyfriend?”
“I’m not sure.” I leaned back slightly. Miro wasn’t hurting me, but the fierceness in his expression told me he was balancing on the razor-thin fence between controlled anger and wild fury.
“You’re wondering, aren’t you?” he said, his low voice reverberating against every nerve in my body. “Why didn’t he come sooner? Why isn’t he here now? Why isn’t he camped out in front of your bedroom door, protecting you from his father?”
I placed my hands against Miro’s chest and attempted to push him back. It was like trying to move a steel beam. “Maybe,” I said pointedly, “he’s afraid.”
In response Miro dragged the chair closer still, and my hands slid toward his shoulders. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Is there something you’re still not telling me?”
I looked at him, my own anger bubbling up. “Let me go.”
“If you’re not telling me everything, if you’re not seeking to explore all avenues, then maybe you don’t really want to find your parents. Maybe there’s something going on here that I don’t understand. Are you really who you say you are, Breeda Fergus? Are you an honorable person? I’ve tried to be. Do you know how hard it is to be honest with yourself when you are living with what I did to my brother? It makes you have zero tolerance for liars. Are you a liar?” Miro locked eyes with me, his face inches from mine. In the fathomless depths of green and gold and brown I saw a boy teetering on the edge, in constant battle with the darkness trying to claim him. I thought about what Evie said about the witching world, about its turbulent nature. Miro was falling victim to it, just like his brother had.
Still, he had no right to bully me, and I was in no mood for feeling like a victim myself.
“Let. Me. Go,” I said, each word a slap.
He pushed back the chair, and I scrambled to my feet. Then I strode down the hall, ignoring Miro as he called my name.
“We’re out of here,” I said to a round-eyed Shelley as I grabbed my backpack. We thundered down the back stairs, and this time I didn’t care if anyone heard me.
The root cellar was in the far, dark corner of the basement. A wood bar lay across the door. Evie shoved it to the side. “Got a present for you, demon!”
Shelley stood by my side while the demon strained at its chains to reach me. Its black eyes burned with need.
I stuck my tongue out at it. And then we took off in search of Seralina.
CHAPTER 26
The Moonstone, I learned from Shelley, housed transient witches. The building looked worn, its grayish cement bricks and block glass windows giving it the appearance of a free clinic or halfway house. Damp newspapers accumulated at the entrance, and cardboard covered one section of the glass door.
“You’re sure this is it?” I asked Shelley.
“Don’t be judgmental,” she replied. “This place needs to look nondescript. We wouldn’t want any old person checking in, right?”
Chicago’s witching world infiltrated the city in the most clandestine of ways. It was vast and deep, as I learned on the L ride over to the Moonstone, but barely visible. Shelley pointed out strang
e landmarks and shops and dense, well-shaded, witch-friendly parks—I would have walked by any one of them without sparing a second glance. There were options in the city but limited freedom for witches, and I silently thanked my parents for giving me the run of a deep wood, the freedom of sprawling, open spaces untouched by human hands. It may not have been wise to follow Gavin, but what he offered must have seemed very attractive.
The Moonstone’s front door was held open with a brick, so we walked in. The registry clerk watched us from behind a glass partition. He was so ancient I thought dust might fall out of his sleeve as he handed us the sign-in book. “Who’re you here for?” he said over comically circular glasses.
Shelley straightened her shoulders. “Ion Romany, please.”
“Ah,” the old man said, eyeing her lasciviously. “Lucky boy.”
Shelley curled her lip in disgust. “Room number?”
“You young witches are no fun,” the ancient complained. “He’s in 6A and B. His mother rented a suite.” When I smiled my thanks he leaned over the desk and gave an exaggerated wink. “She’s loaded,” he stage-whispered. “But not very nice. Keep your guard up.”
I winked back at him, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in my stomach.
The place didn’t have an elevator, so Shelley and I sprinted up the stairs. By the time we got to the sixth floor we both had lost our breath, so we stopped on the landing to gather ourselves.
Shelley grasped the railing. “I think . . . Ion . . . likes . . . me . . . .”
“Not . . . a . . . news . . . flash,” I responded, breathing heavily.
Shelley inhaled and exhaled deeply, regulating her breathing. “It’s just, I know it might be helpful to use that—to find your parents, I mean,” she babbled on. “I really want to find them, don’t get me wrong; I mean, I really want you to find them, you know that, right?”
