by Larissa May
My thoughts raced. With my true talisman around my wrist, there would be no consecration ceremony. And I no longer needed to put my friends in danger. My job was not to wait, as Miro said, but to act. My fate could no longer be decided by others.
With my talisman, alone no longer meant helpless.
I gathered my things, stuffing them into my backpack. I extinguished the candles one by one, silently thanking my friends and hoping they’d understand.
The screen popped easily off the window and I lowered myself onto the awning below, and swung down to the garden.
I was not the kind of person to walk away without a backward glance. These people meant something to me— even Vadim—and I felt another stab of loss. Candles blazed from every window in Dobra’s apartment, as if calling me back to their warmth. Before the sight brought on a wave of sadness, I turned away, pulling my cell out as I took off down the alley.
Evie’s apartment. Now.
I hit send with a renewed sense of purpose. Brandon would not slip away from me again. If he knew where my parents were hidden, I’d find out. If he was responsible for their disappearance, I’d draw blood.
But if he was truly trying to protect me from his father, if he really did still love me . . .
I had no idea what I would do.
CHAPTER 34
Evie’s building looked just as it did the night I left: gray brick shadowed with age, front steps crumbling into dust, windows like huge, unblinking eyes. The lights were out in Evie’s apartment, but Sandy’s place was lit like a carnival.
I pushed through the iron gate. It opened easily; the heavy front door did not. With a deep, cleansing breath, I touched my talisman.
The magic didn’t come instantly, but when it did it came steadily, unfurling from my body like an invisible hand, turning the lock with one loud thunk. Yes!
I waited for the aftereffects.
A sharp pain jabbed at my lungs, sending shock waves through my diaphragm. It was work to get a breath in, but I was able to inhale slowly, and exhale without feeling like shards of glass blew out with the air. The muscles in my arms and legs weakened, and I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I could conjure one of Shelley’s tisanes.
“You’ve got to open your eyes,” my father said. “I know you can’t see much, but it’s better than swimming blind.”
It was overcast, making it difficult to see where the grayish-blue sky met the water. When I turned my back to the shore, I saw nothing to swim to, just the vast emptiness of the ocean.
“How will I know when to stop and turn around?” I asked.
“You’ll know,” he said.
I placed a palm on the water’s surface, as if to test its strength. “You won’t let me drown, right?”
“No, Breeda,” my dad said, laughing and flicking water at me. “You won’t let you drown.”
I came back from the vision with a start. My breathing was a little off, but it wasn’t anything like before. The pain was there, but I could manage it, slow its pulsing with concentrated effort. My lungs, so weakened usually, fought the effects of the magic, each breath fighting its way in, building my energy with every inhale. I could clear my mind now that I had control, and I relaxed, letting my body repair the magic’s damage—everything I’d found nearly impossible to do without my talisman. This was so different—I was so different.
Noiselessly, I passed into the foyer, and barely touched the stairs as I climbed to the second floor. Sandy’s door was ajar, bright light spilling into the hallway. Innate manners stopped me for only a second before I slipped inside her apartment.
A mix of sounds assaulted my ears—music from a radio, the old-fashioned console television blaring, an alarm clock’s intermittent squawks. “Sandy?” I called out, though I doubted she could hear me. I flicked off the television and pulled the radio’s cord from a wall socket. “Sandy?” I tried again, the word punctuated by the annoying alarm. The sound pounded with the rhythm of my heart as I rounded the hulking television console.
I saw her feet first. She wore impractical glittery, orange heels. I stared at them for a second, terrified to look further.
“She’s dead,” came a voice from the corner of the room. Ion. He sat crouched on the floor, hugging his bent knees. His dark eyes, round with horror, didn’t leave Sandy’s body.
“Are you sure?” I fell to the floor next to her, searching for signs of life. Her sunburst hair lay limp along the sides of her face. Her eyes, once golden, had dimmed to a flat brown, and were fixed, glassy and eerily still, on the ceiling. When I saw there was nothing I could do, I slipped into the bedroom and shut off the alarm.
“I didn’t do it,” Ion moaned as I returned. “You’ve got to believe me. She was already . . . like that when I found her. I didn’t know what to do!”
Sandy’s talisman, no longer the sunny orange of cut citrine, had blackened. Her frozen hand clutched at it.
“She tried to fight,” I said, stifling a sob. “No one could have saved her. Whatever happened happened quickly.” I went to him and took his ice-cold hands in mine. He’d begun to cry, tears running down the slope of his nose.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, coaxing a response.
“My father called me,” he replied. Even in his shocked state, Ion’s voice held skepticism. “He said to meet him here, that he knew how to start my transition. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I was desperate, so I snuck out. I came through the alley and the back door was wide open. I thought that was pretty weird, so when I heard all the noise coming from this place, I let myself in and stumbled on . . . her body. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t have my phone…I don’t have anything…She was just lying there….”
I understood why he couldn’t use Sandy’s name. It made everything too real. Ion’s pale skin had turned ghostly white, and his pupils resembled black holes. He was in shock. I drew my phone from my pocket and handed it to him. “Look, you need to get out of here. Go outside and head down Sacramento. Call your mother and tell her what’s going on. If your father is here in the apartment, she’ll want to know.”
“What about you?” he asked, taking my phone.
“I know your father better than you do,” I said, trying to appear confident. “I’ll be fine.”
He never looked convinced, but took off anyway. When I heard the front door close, I stood and took one more look through the apartment. With my trembling hand over my talisman, I checked Sandy’s bedroom again, the bathroom, the kitchen. Nothing.
Gavin wasn’t there. Either he had already left, or he was in another apartment. I should have brought Evie, I inwardly scolded myself. She wouldn’t mind the danger, and would welcome the chance for a crack at Gavin. I couldn’t second-guess myself, though. If I’d interrupted the consecration ceremony, Miro and Shelley would have wanted to come with as well. I didn’t want them anywhere near Gavin.
The thought of confronting him scared me, too, but at least I wasn’t walking in defenseless. Not anymore.
I paused for a moment, listening for footsteps in Evie’s apartment. If Gavin was upstairs, the sudden silence in Sandy’s apartment would tell him she’d had been found. My heart seized in my throat. Where was Brandon?
There wasn’t time to speculate. I had to make a decision—go up the front stairs, or attempt to climb up to Evie’s balcony. The balcony made the most sense. Streetlights in the alley meant I didn’t have complete darkness to cover me, but it was better than a well-lit hallway. Once on the balcony, I could try to peer through the kitchen window unnoticed.
Unless I’d already been spotted. But if he had, he probably would have killed me already. He wanted me alive.
I moved quickly through the apartment, toward the balcony. It was simply constructed, and similar to the one directly above it. If I could manage to scale a wooden post, I could hoist myself up and over.
I was a country girl. I’d climbed more trees than a monkey. I could do this. On tiptoe, I managed to grab the bal
cony above and curl my leg over the side, using momentum to flip myself onto the ledge. I grabbed the lattice beams but made the mistake of glancing down. Three floors up, the drop to the backyard was easily thirty feet, and my legs still felt heavy from using magic earlier. The grass below was difficult to see in the diffused light; the yard resembled an open grave.
Focus. A drop of sweat rolled down my back, bringing me into the moment.
Slowly, so slowly, I pulled myself onto the balcony, landing hands first. I took a moment to breathe, when Evie’s security light blasted me in the eyes.
“Be careful, Breeda.”
I blinked, trying to bring the shadowy figure into view.
Not that it was necessary. I knew that voice anywhere.
CHAPTER 35
“Brandon?” I pulled myself up to face him.
He glanced over at me, but his attention was focused on the demon standing in the corner of the balcony. It snarled and hissed, but its limbs were immobilized, wrapped tightly in a live electrical wire, which spat sparks into the air. One side of the demon’s body had burned. Weeping blisters covered the skin showing through the tattered remains of a policeman’s uniform.
Brandon clutched his talisman. “I need help,” he said. “This magic is weak and I can’t hold it much longer.”
“Demon,” I said, “it’s me, Breeda.” It didn’t turn at the sound of my voice. Instead, the demon writhed, pushing hard at the loosening wires. Its black eyes never left Brandon.
Evie said the bewitching would wear off. “You sent him,” I said, my heart heavy in my chest. “It was you.”
“Help me,” Brandon pleaded, desperate as the demon’s leg broke through the wire. “He’ll destroy me.”
My magic stirred, but something in Brandon’s expression stopped me before I touched my talisman.
“Do you have your magic?” Brandon shouted. “Use it! Now!”
The demon tossed the wire to the floor. It moved swiftly, but Brandon was quicker, grabbing at his talisman with a ferocious determination. The wire snaked around the demon’s ankle and pulled tight, sending the demon crashing onto the wooden floor. Then the wire whipped upward and the demon flipped into the air. Instinctively, I crouched down as the creature careened over my crouching body and tumbled over the side of the balcony. I heard a sickening crunch as its body hit the ground, but I hid my revulsion, focusing instead on Brandon. His talisman, which had once been a brilliant amethyst, was cobbled with thick, black lines.
“Tell me where they are,” I demanded.
“Who?” Brandon looked confused. He peered over the side of the balcony at the demon’s body. “I think it’s dead.”
“My parents,” I said. The words stuck like sand in my throat. “For the love of Isis, where are they?”
“I don’t know,” he said dully.
“You don’t know! You expect me to believe that?” I knew I should try to hide my anger, but I couldn’t. “And your father? Where is Gavin?”
Brandon studied me. His features had become hardened, not like Evie’s, but as if they hadn’t held any true emotion in a long time. “My father’s dead. He died back in Portland.”
“What?”
“I didn’t mean to.” Brandon paced the balcony. “You knew me. You know who I am. I wouldn’t do it on purpose.”
I felt sick. “What happened?”
“My father toyed with Black Magic so much he destroyed his natural gift. He thought Greta might help him. She was unmarked, like us,” he explained coldly. “But a transitioning unmarked has powers even my father couldn’t comprehend.”
My eyes filled and tears spilled over my cheeks. I didn’t bother to brush them away, and Brandon didn’t seem to notice. “I know she died,” I said. “But how?”
“Gavin was weak, and he worried my transition might destroy him. He’d figured out a way to siphon part of a transitioning witch’s power—so he practiced on Greta.”
“And it killed her?”
Brandon’s eyes took on a desperate quality, and I almost sighed with relief that he could still feel something. “I walked in the room as he was taking her gift,” he said, his voice rising in pitch, growing hysterical. “Her body twisted with pain. I couldn’t stand watching it. So I reacted, Breeda. Our instincts are so strong, aren’t they? I touched my talisman without thinking and I took it in. It covered my body. It invaded every part of me. Every cell.”
“The magic?”
“The Black Magic. Greta was killed instantly; my father, with so little magic left in him, took longer. After Greta’s funeral he came back to Seaside to get me. He was going to use me to convince you to come back to Oregon. But he was weak and collapsed before we left. When he died, I took all of his darkness.”
“But he was seen! Right here in Chicago.”
“I was seen,” Brandon said. “The people here haven’t seen my dad in years. I look enough like him from far away.”
My mind resisted the idea. It couldn’t be Brandon. He loved me. He loved Sonya, our friend. The one who could find me anywhere. “You stole Sonya’s gift, didn’t you? She was a tracker. That’s how you found me.” And you killed her, I thought, fighting the hysteria taking hold within me. Just like Sandy.
The connection was horrible, but it was there. “So now, when you collect someone’s gift, you kill them.” A chill crawled up my spine. Had he done the same to my parents?
Brandon stepped to the edge of the balcony. “I can’t live like this. It’s destroying me bit by bit, every time. Do you see this?” He grasped the cord holding his talisman, shoving the stone in my direction. I winced, fearful of what he could do with it.
“I black out now. I miss hours of my life, and the only reason I don’t mind is because being conscious after is worse than being dead. The Black Magic is eating away at my brain, my memories.” He leaned toward me, and in the smooth lines of his face I saw the Brandon I did know, the first boy to hold my heart. Was he completely gone? “Please,” he begged. “I need your help. Will you do it? You’re the only one who can.”
My mind reeled. “Do what?”
He tilted his head, and his face shifted, suddenly gaunt, his features falling into shadow. “Please say you will,” he whispered. “Please.”
I gasped, understanding what he was really saying. “You’re dying. . . .”
“Yes. Unless you help me I will die.”
I stared at him. “You want to take my gifts.”
He shook his head violently. “I want to take one gift. You’ve had a chance to acquire more than one, haven’t you? My brother told me you’d transitioned.”
“Of course. It was you who spoke with Ion. You told him to meet you here.”
“He hasn’t transitioned yet,” Brandon said derisively. “I’m not even sure if he’s unmarked anyway.”
“He isn’t,” I said quickly. “He can’t help you.”
“But you can. It will work, Breeda. You’re very strong. My father always said he thought you were the strongest of us all. He ended up being so weak. Everyone at Seaside was a disappointment.”
“But not Sonya,” I said, a cold fury taking hold. “Sonya was never weak.”
“No,” he said. “She wasn’t. But she also wasn’t unmarked. You’re different.”
I needed to get through to him, so I tried another tactic. “Don’t you understand? If you take my magic, it could kill me.” I reached out, touching his forearm. I wanted him to feel me, to remember.
Brandon leaned in, warming to my touch. Hope flared within me. I smiled at him. Maybe he wasn’t completely lost.
A sliver of light broke through the darkness in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around my shaking body, pressed his cheek against mine. I stifled a shudder.
“It’s you,” I murmured. “See? Still you.”
He buried his face in my hair, taking in my scent. “You do have your gifts. I can feel it. Let me try this, Bree. Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
I froze.
&
nbsp; He felt it and took a step back. “Does it matter to you if I die?”
“How could you ask that?”
His mouth pressed into a thin, cold line. “That’s not an answer. Let me ask a different question—do you want to see your parents again?”
I couldn’t mask my disgust any further. I glared at him. “Let them go. They’ve done nothing to you.”
“After,” he said. “Now I need an answer. Will you help me?”
I wanted to scream. If it would bring them back to me, then yes, I’d do it; I’d try anything. But was he telling the truth? “I want to see them.”
“We don’t have enough time,” he snapped, touching the stone around his neck. I heard a sharp crack, and another electrical wire whipped against the balcony, missing me by inches. He was trying to get me to use my magic.
It was working. My nerves hummed with it. “Stop!” I shouted. “Please, Brandon!”
“You must be wearing your talisman. Is that it, on your wrist?” he asked, his voice smooth as butter. “How does it feel?”
Magic rippled through me with a force I could barely contain.
Another live wire snapped at my feet. I struggled with the powerful force rolling through my veins—every cell in my body wanted to fight back, yearned for it. My hand automatically went to my talisman, hovering just above the star sapphire.
“Go ahead,” he demanded. “Show me what you’ve collected.”
I searched his eyes for a glimmer of the light I’d seen before, for a fragment of the person I once knew. “If you take my magic,” I said, steadying my voice, “I’ll die. It’s not going to work. I’m sure we can find another way.”
His eyes held nothing but darkness. “I have to try. Why is that so difficult to understand?” He grasped his talisman again and the sparking electrical wires moved toward me with the slow, murderous intent of snakes marking their prey. They buzzed and popped, the electricity surging.
I looked at him, at this boy I once loved—this boy who once loved me—took a deep, cleansing breath, and reached for my talisman.
