We pulled apart and turned to face her.
"You have your deal, Leah," Cortez said. "We don't have time for you. I'll speak to my father. You'll be immune from any repercussions."
"Repercussions?" She laughed. "What repercussions? I'm about to save Thomas Nast's son and granddaughter, risking my life for theirs. I'll make VP for this."
"No, you won't," I said. "There is no son to save. Kristof Nast is dead."
Cortez blinked, but recovered in a heartbeat. "You understand what that means, Leah. If you walk out of here alive, you'll be the sole survivor of a Cabal disaster. A disaster that killed the Nast heir. Thomas Nast won't reward you. You'll be lucky if he doesn't kill you."
"He will when he finds out that you initiated this tragedy," I said. "You told Savannah that I was dead, that her father killed me. You set her off. Whatever plan you had, it backfired. Take the offer and go before we change our minds."
A clay pot flew from beside the front staircase. Cortez shoved me and twisted, but it hit him in the gut so hard he flew back against the wall. He slid to the floor and doubled over, gasping. I ran to him, but Leah shoved me back.
"If there's one thing I know," she said, stepping over Cortez as he retched and coughed. "It's how to turn a sow's ear into a silk purse. A Cabal project gone horribly wrong. One Cabal heir dead. Why not make it two? And collect a very nice bounty in the process. With a houseful of bodies, no one's going to question two more."
I cast the suffocation spell, but it failed. As she bent over, I launched a fireball, my one foolproof offensive spell. The ball hit her in the back of the head. As she whirled, a knickknack table flew up and smashed against my side, knocking the next spell from my lips.
Leah advanced on me. Behind her, Cortez struggled to sit, coughing up gobs of crimson phlegm. His eyes widened and his right hand shot up, fingers flicking. The spell knocked me sideways. As I stumbled, a splintered table leg slammed into the wall, right where I'd been standing.
Leah turned on Cortez. She strode over, grabbed his face, and shoved him backward to the floor. Cortez struggled, but his eyes blazed with pain.
Again I tried the suffocation spell. This time it took hold. Leah gasped. She released Cortez and turned on me. Something hit me in the side of the head and I went down, breaking the spell. When Cortez moved, she wheeled and sent the clay pot crashing into his stomach again. He fell back, eyes wide, face contorting.
I recast the suffocation spell. Again it caught. Again Leah broke it, this time by hitting me in the back of the head with a ceramic knickknack and knocking me to my knees. She stepped forward, towering over me.
"Seems you've learned a new trick since you got Isaac killed," she said. "It doesn't really work any better than the fireballs, does it? Another useless witch spell. Or is it just another useless witch?"
I dropped and rolled out of her reach. When I came up, Leah bore down on me. Behind her, Cortez lifted his left hand and squeezed it into a fist, then opened it and repeated the motion in rapid succession, lips moving soundlessly. A spell?
As I turned, I saw Leah copy the motion, balling her left hand into a fist. Cortez slammed his hand to the floor, motioning me down. I dove as another knickknack flew past, shattering against the wall. The tell! That was it. Leah's tell.
I leaped to my feet and cast the suffocation spell. On the first gasp, her left hand clenched. I hit the floor and rolled without breaking my concentration. The clay pot flew past, and crashed against the wall. Her hand balled again and I scampered to the side, narrowly avoiding an ottoman that sailed in from the living room.
"Running out of things to throw?" I said. "Maybe we should move to the kitchen. Plenty of pots and pans there. Maybe even a knife or two."
Her face contorted with rage as she gasped for air. Her hand clenched, but this time nothing happened.
"Oooh, impotence," I said. "Never good."
Another fist. Again, nothing happened. Leah's face was purpling now, eyes bulging. She leaped at me and hit me in the chest, sending us both down. Her fist hit my cheek and the spell broke. I recast it, nearly tripping over the words in my haste, but it worked and she only got a sniff of air before I cut off her oxygen again.
Leah began to choke. I grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her off me, pinning her to the floor. Her eyes widened and bulged. She was suffocating now, dying. Indecision flitted through me. Could I do this? I had to. Around us, the house groaned. Pieces of plaster fell from the walls. It was starting again, and I had to get Cortez and Savannah out. We'd given Leah the chance to leave and she'd refused. She'd never let us walk out alive. I had to kill her. Yet I couldn't look into her eyes and watch her die. I couldn't. So I shut my eyes, concentrated as hard as I could and waited for her body to go still. Once it did, I waited another thirty seconds, then scrambled off her, not looking back, and stumbled to Cortez's side.
He'd pushed himself onto all fours. I opened my mouth, but the house shook again and a rumbling howl drowned me out. Cortez jabbed a finger toward the front door. I shook my head, but he pushed himself to his feet, grabbed my arm, and started to drag me. When we made it to the porch, the house rumbled. A beam supporting the porch snapped and we dove onto the grass just as the porch collapsed on itself. Then the house went still and the howling fell to a drone.
CHAPTER 49
SUMMONING EVE
"It's Savannah," I said, words tumbling out. "She's trying to raise her mother's spirit."
"She can't."
"I know, but she won't stop. She doesn't even seem to know I'm there. I can't get near her."
The house groaned and shuddered. I spun toward it, but Cortez grabbed my arm, then started coughing uncontrollably, splattering blood-soaked sputum.
"I need to stop her," I said. "Before she summons something else or brings the house down."
"I know a spell--" Coughing obliterated his next words. "--look like Eve."
"What?"
"A spell that'll make you look like Eve. It's not perfect. The success depends on whether the viewer is inclined to believe the deception. Savannah obviously is."
"Impersonate her mother?" I shook my head hard. "That's ... that's ... I can't do it. I won't betray her that way. It isn't right."
"You have to, Paige. Any minute now that house is coming down. Would Eve rather you let her daughter die in there? Yes, it's wrong, but it's justified. We'll never tell Savannah the truth. You're giving her one last moment with her mother, Paige. I know you understand how much that means to her."
"Oh, God." I rubbed my hands over my face. "O--okay. Do it. Hurry, please."
Cortez cast the spell. It seemed to take forever. Twice he fell into a coughing fit, and my heart seized. How badly was he hurt? What if he--No, I couldn't think of that. I couldn't.
Finally, he finished. When I opened my eyes and looked down, I saw my own short fingers, my own silver rings.
"Did it--" I glanced up at him. "Did it work?"
"If you need to ask, then you won't see it. The illusion depends on the viewer's inclination to believe."
I closed my eyes and forced myself past my own doubt. I needed this to work. I needed to become Eve.
When I looked again, my fingers shimmered, then lengthened, nails growing long and manicured, rings disappearing. I nodded and got to my feet, expecting disorientation but finding none. My body moved as it always had. As Cortez said, the illusion was in the eye of the beholder.
Since the front door was now inaccessible, I jogged around to the side entrance. As I swung through, I saw Cortez limping along, using the side of the house for support.
"Go on," he said. "I'll meet you downstairs."
"No," I said. "You need to stay here."
"I won't let Savannah see me, Paige. The illusion will be complete. I'm only coming along as backup, in case of an emergency."
I hurried to him and put my hand against his chest, halting his progress. "Please. Stay out here. You're hurt."
"I can still cast--"
"No, please." I met his eyes. "If something goes wrong, you'll never get away in time. I need to know you're okay. I'll be fine."
The house creaked. Shingles slid off, one striking me on the shoulder. Cortez nudged me toward the house. I didn't need a second hint. With one backward glance, I was gone.
I raced down to the basement. From inside the furnace room, Savannah continued her pleas, voice rising and falling. I pressed my hands to my face and inhaled deeply, fighting to control my hammering heart. I had to believe. She had to believe.
When I rounded the corner into the room, Savannah stopped. She went still, completely still, as if sensing me there but fearing to turn and face disappointment.
"Savannah?" I said.
To my ears, my voice still sounded like my own and, as she turned, I nearly broke and ran. Instead, I held my breath and waited. Her eyes met mine. She blinked, then rubbed her palms over her eyes.
"Mom?"
"I heard you calling," I said.
"Mom!" She leaped from her knees and ran to me, arms flinging around my chest. Burying her head against my shoulder, she started to sob. "Oh, Mom, it's such a mess. I ... I did everything wrong."
Instinctively I reached to stroke her hair, forgetting who I was supposed to be and speaking as myself. "You didn't do anything wrong. Nothing at all."
"Yes, I did. I made Paige stay here with me, and now she's gone." Her voice broke in a sob. "I--I think she's dead, Mom. It's my fault. I made her stay and they killed her."
"No," I said sharply, putting my hand under her chin. "Paige is fine. You need to get out of this house, Savannah, before it collapses."
As if to emphasize the point, the house began to shake. Splinters of wood popped from the beams overhead.
"I--I didn't mean to do this. I just kept casting and casting and things kept coming, but they weren't you. I only wanted you."
"I'm here now." I kissed her forehead, realizing as I did that, for once, I had to bend to do it. "But you have to go, Savannah. I love you very much, but I can't stay. You know that."
"Oh, Mom. I miss you so much."
My voice caught. "I know. I miss you, too. So much."
A beam broke over the furnace, then another. Chunks of the ceiling fell through.
"You have to go, Savannah," I said. "Please."
I hugged her tight, so tight her ribs crackled in protest. She gave a hiccuping laugh, then reached up to kiss my cheek.
"Can I see you again?" she asked.
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it only works once. I'll be with you, though. Even if you can't see me. You know that." I hugged her again and whispered in her ear, the words flowing unbidden, as if someone else was speaking. "You were my whole world, Savannah. The best thing I ever did."
She gave me a crushing hug, then stepped back. The ceiling above groaned.
"Go," I said. "I'll be right here watching. Go on."
She walked backward, eyes never leaving mine. Overhead, the beams began to pop like matchsticks.
"Hurry!" I called. "Up the stairs now. Run!"
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, baby."
She threw me a kiss, then turned and ran. I waited, listening to her footsteps, needing to make sure she was gone before I bolted. I heard Cortez shout. Heard Savannah answer. Then the ceiling caved in.
CHAPTER 50
THE EIGHTH DAY
I'm still not quite sure how I made it out. Sheer luck, I suppose. Guess I was entitled to one miracle. I managed to duck inside a crawlspace while the house collapsed around me. After that, well, after that is a bit of a blur, but I made it out with only cuts and bruises.
Savannah never realized I'd impersonated her mother. She assumed I'd been trapped in the house while searching for her. As Cortez said, we'll never tell her. She deserves that fantasy, one I envied her, a few last minutes with the person who meant more to her than anyone in the world.
We still had to do Savannah's ceremony in a few days but, with Leah and Nast dead, no one would impede that now. So it was all over. All over. I should feel relief at those words. Yet I couldn't, because it truly was over. My life as I'd always known it was over.
I didn't get my happy ending. Maybe I've seen too many Hollywood movies, but I honestly believed everything would turn out okay. If I survived, if I saved Savannah, then I would get my karmic reward. My tattered life would miraculously mend. The media would forget about me overnight. The town would forgive me, welcome me back. The Coven would overthrow Victoria and reinstate me as Coven Leader. I'd return to find my house hadn't been burned to the ground, but barely scorched, all my belongings still intact.
But my house was a hollow shell. Anything that hadn't burned had been scavenged by human vultures. When we returned to survey the damage, we were beset by reporters. The tabloids screamed "Mob Justice: Vigilantes Try to Burn Massachusetts Witch." Some claimed I'd caused the fire accidentally while conducting a Satanic ritual, using body parts dug up from the cemetery the night before. Hordes of screaming strangers banged against the taxi windows, chasing us up the street. The front page of every Boston paper carried the story of the burning, augmented with news of "renewed efforts" by townspeople to cleanse East Falls of my presence. Within a day, the more enterprising reporters began drawing links between me and the "unholy" destruction of a farmhouse thirty miles away.
I called every Coven member, assuring them that Nast was out of our lives for good. I told them what Victoria had done. It didn't matter. I'd tainted the Coven. Only a handful would even consider having me back.
We stayed in Massachusetts only long enough to file an insurance claim and get the paperwork done. Between the money from the claim, and money I still had from my mother's estate, I had enough to move anywhere I wanted and start over. For most women my age, this would be a dream come true. It wasn't my dream, but I'd make it mine. I swore I would.
When we pulled out of Boston three days later, I watched the city lights fade behind me, perhaps for the last time, and a wave of sadness washed over me, but no tears came. Surprisingly few tears had come in the last few days. Even as I'd surveyed the ruins of my life, I realized that I still had exactly what I'd fought for.
I had Savannah. I'd known that I might lose everything I had in my quest to protect her, and I'd told myself that didn't matter. I guess that's what happens when you make a deal with the Fates. They take you at your word. Still, they did leave me with two consolation prizes, which I valued more than I could have imagined.
First, I still had the grimoires. When the firefighters rescued Cortez from my burning house, he'd still been carrying the two bags, the one with the grimoires and the one with my tools and the material for Savannah's ceremony.
My second bonus reward? Cortez was fine, and still with us. Through his network of contacts, he'd found a doctor in Boston willing to examine him, no questions asked. He had three cracked ribs, internal bruising, and a possible concussion. The doctor had advised a hospital stay, but Cortez settled for a chest binding and some painkillers, then we'd set out on the road.
I hadn't told him of his brother's plan to have me killed. What would be the use? He already knew his brothers hated him. If I told him, he might decide he was putting my life in danger and leave, and I wasn't risking that.
We'd been driving for two days now. I still didn't know where we were going. For now, it was a crosscountry summer tour. Savannah thought that was pretty cool. She'd tire of it soon. Hopefully I'd find a place to settle before she did.
We'd stopped this morning. Some town in Virginia. At least, I think we were still in Virginia, though we may have crossed into Kentucky. Today was the big day. The eighth day.
Since dawn we'd been preparing for the ceremony. Now that it was dark, we'd driven to a state park, slipped past the locked gates, and headed into the forest. I'd found a site almost immediately, a good-sized clearing ringed with trees, as the ceremony prescribed. We were still early, though, so Savannah had gr
abbed a flashlight and taken off to see if she couldn't find something better. My choice was fine, but I suspected she was simply too excited to sit still.
I'd found a fallen log and sat down to pore over my notes. I was reading them through for the third time when a hand pressed between my shoulder blades, fingers rubbing the knot of tension there.
"How are you doing?" Cortez said, taking a seat beside me.
I managed a shaky smile. "It feels like I'm about to do my SATs, driver's test, and thesis presentation all rolled into one."
He squeezed my hand. "You'll do fine."
I leaned against him and he put his arm around my shoulder.
"What would you think about heading out to the Coast?" he asked. "Washington or Oregon. You might like it there. Lots of open space, and the ocean. It's not the East Coast, but ..."
"I visited Portland once. I liked it."
"We'll go there, then."
"So you're going to--?" I hesitated. "I mean, we haven't discussed ..." I took a deep breath and plowed on. "Are you coming with us? For now, I mean?"
"For now ... and for as long as I'm welcome." He slid a quarter-smile my way. "The problem, as you undoubtedly have already discerned, will not be keeping me around, but getting rid of me."
"I can live with that."
I leaned over and kissed him. When we pulled apart, he adjusted his glasses, then looked at me.
"When I, uh, mentioned the Pacific Northwest, it wasn't a random suggestion. Oregon is one of the few states without a Cabal satellite office. With Kristof dead, on a case in which I was involved, I may need to lie low for a while."
"What will happen?"
"I don't know. I can say, with certainty, that my presence won't place you or Savannah in danger. I'd never do that. The matter of Kristof's death will be handled through proper Cabal channels. If I'm in danger, I'll hear of it long before anyone comes for me. My father should be able to handle it." He shook his head. "It seems no matter how far and how fast I run, I always end up relying on my father to--" He stopped. "I'm sorry."
"Tell me."
He entwined his fingers with mine and smiled. "Later. I only wanted you to know that I'm not placing you in danger, but that it would be wise for me to keep out of sight for a while. My father may--will summon me home to Miami. I'd prefer to be as far away as possible when that happens."
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