by Alicia Rades
She reached in her pocket and tossed her baggie into the toilet, then turned to Ronark with expectation in her eyes.
He hesitated in the doorway, then sighed. “Believe me, I want to find another way through this, too, but…”
“We can do it, Eli,” Jenna said, holding her hand out to him.
“You know I hate it when you call me that,” he grumbled.
She took his hand and pulled him inside the room. It was started to get far too cramped in here, and everyone else was still watching from the doorway.
“You survived eight years on that island,” Jenna pointed out. “That’s a helluva lot worse than what we’re facing now. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to make it through.”
Ronark took his baggie out of his pocket and stared down at it. “I was just hoping it would be easy…”
“This isn’t an easy button, Ronark,” Venn said softly. “It’s a pause button. Sooner or later, you still have to walk through the fire. I know.”
Jenna’s hand closed around Ronark’s. “We’ll walk through that fire together. And get this over with as soon as we can.”
Ronark took a deep breath. “Okay. Together.”
Jenna and Venn spoke at the same time. “Together.”
Ronark tossed his baggie into the toilet, and Jenna flushed it. She smiled as the drugs disappeared.
I took her hand. “See? I told you you were strong.”
She took a deep breath. “We’ll see.”
“Guys!” a terrified voice came from the top of the steps. It sounded like Amalia.
“We’re all down here!” Ryland called up to her.
She pounded down the steps until she was standing at the bottom where we could all see her. “It’s Matias again. Something’s happened.”
21
We all raced upstairs and gathered in the living room, where Sondra, Clarita, and Zoey sat.
“What’s going on?” I asked breathlessly. My heart pounded in preparation for whatever bad news they were about to say.
Sondra’s hands shook. “Matias has attacked the DMR branch in Chicago.”
The TV played footage of the destruction. The entire building had been leveled to the ground, and buildings all around it were in shambles. It looked as if a tornado had gone through the area. The images were dark, with nothing but nearby city lights to illuminate the scene. The TV anchor spoke, but I could barely process what she said as the images flashed across the screen.
“How do they know it’s him?” Jenna asked. The color had drained from her face.
Clarita pursed her lips. “Keep watching.”
“At this time, fifty-seven are confirmed dead, and another twenty-four have been severely injured,” the anchor said.
The TV flashed to a cell phone video from earlier in the night. The five-story Department of Magical Regulation building was still standing, but high-speed winds whipped through the parking lot. The camera panned to a group of three dozen men in suits looking confidently up at the building.
Matias stood at the front of the group and looked directly into the camera. “The Department of Magical Regulation has overstepped their power, and they shall pay for it. The magical community will not stand this persecution.”
Matias waved his hand like a signal to his followers. Magic of all colors swirled out of people's hands, while others looked to the skies to control the clouds. The magic wound together and swirled around the building, increasing speed until the colors blurred into streaks.
At Matias's command, the magic exploded outward in a flash of white light. The camera whipped backward, and the feed cut out.
I gaped at the TV. This was straight-up terrorism. How could Matias still think he was in the right?
“What the hell?” Teagan exploded.
“I can't believe he's killing people like this!” Fiona said at the same time.
Ryland scoffed. “I can.”
“Yeah, okay,” Fiona said. “I don't agree with what the DMR is doing, but those people in that building are just doing their jobs. It’s the system that’s the problem. Those people were innocent.”
So was Devin.
“This is what Matias does,” I growled. “He’s determined to build this new world and will kill anyone who gets in his way.”
“This is out of hand,” Venn said. “We can't wait any longer. We have to end this now.”
“What are our options?” Jenna asked.
“Genevieve was in contact with Matias,” Clarita said. “She was trying to lure him here, to bring the fight to home field and try to get him away from the majority of his army.”
“Without her…” Zoey hesitated. “Without her, we're doomed.”
“No,” I stated sternly. “I don't believe that.”
“Then what do we do?” Fiona asked. “Take the fight to him?”
“That's too risky,” Sondra said. “His army is bigger than we can take on.”
“What if we partner up with the DMR?” Teagan suggested. “By now they have to take this threat seriously. Maybe they'll actually consider our offer.”
“We can try again…” Sondra said, but she sounded skeptical.
Amalia stepped forward. “I'll be honest. I don't think any of us are in the right mindset to make a decision right now. Why don't we all get some rest and we'll reconvene after Genevieve's memorial in the morning?”
“We're having a memorial?” I asked.
“Just something for us,” Amalia said. “In the back yard.”
“We don't have time for this,” Ryland said. “We have to fight—”
“Nothing is going to happen overnight,” Amalia argued. “Besides, if we're going to fight, we need to be at the top of our game.”
Sondra stood. “Amalia's right. Let's take the night to each give it some thought and we'll figure out what to do in the morning. It's been a long day.”
Everyone agreed, and the group dispersed.
Downstairs, Venn and I lay next to one another on the floor. I snuggled tightly under my blanket and faced him. His face was only inches from mine as we talked in low whispers.
“Venn, is this mission hopeless?” I asked.
He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No. I don't think so.”
“Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea,” I said, though I wasn't sure I truly believed that. “Going after Matias, I mean. The DMR will take care of him, right?”
Venn frowned. “His men just leveled a DMR branch.”
“Yeah, but the DMR has a whole freaking SWAT team behind them,” I pointed out.
Venn shrugged. “What’s that against magic? If they can’t stop him, we need to be ready.”
“How are we going to do that without Genevieve?” I asked desperately. “She was orchestrating this whole thing.”
Venn brushed his fingers across the side of my face. I realized I was on the verge of tears as her face flashed through my memory.
“Can we talk about something else?” I suggested.
“Yeah, of course,” Venn said. “I think I’m ready to tell you about what happened in Detroit.”
I sat and listened as he whispered lowly so only I could hear. He spared no detail. The thought of what he’d been through sent my stomach into knots, and for the first time, I was starting to understand why he’d turned to drugs.
I reached out and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Tell me something happy.”
Venn laced his fingers through mine. “Do you want to hear about my brother?”
His eyes brightened, like he was already thinking back to happy memories.
I nodded. “Yeah. I would.”
Venn and I stayed up talking for hours. Eventually, my eyelids became heavy, long after everyone else had fallen asleep. Venn couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?” he asked.
“Making me feel better. Tyson sounds great. I wish I would've met him.”
“You would've liked him,” he said.
“I think so. We should probably get to sleep.”
Venn leaned over and kissed my nose. “Goodnight, Rae.”
“Goodnight.”
Venn closed his eyes and was out in an instant. I had to use the bathroom so badly that I crawled out from beneath my secure blanket cocoon and tiptoed across the room.
It was only when I was in the privacy of the bathroom that I realized I still had Genevieve's phone in my pocket. I pulled it out and cleaned it off, the whole time contemplating why she'd given it to me. There must be something important in it.
I sat on the toilet lid and turned on the screen. I closed my eyes, trying to remember the passcode she had given me. Five… seven… were there two sevens? No, it was two fours, definitely two fours. I entered 5474 into the screen. It buzzed once and prompted me to try again. What was the number again?
“Matias is coming. Make sure you're ready for him,” she'd said to me.
Why couldn't I remember what she'd said right before that?
7454?
7427!
The code suddenly clicked, and I entered it in. The screen unlocked.
I just stared down at it for at least a minute until the screen timed out and shut off again. Where did I even start?
I opened the screen again and started with Genevieve’s call history. She’d made a lot of calls in the last few weeks. A few were names I recognized, like Zoey and Clarita, but others I didn’t know. It all had to be part of our plan to round people up. Should I call these people?
The thought sent a wave of nerves through me, so I closed the phone app and opened the messenger app. My heart stalled in my chest.
At the top of the screen was a conversation with Matias’s name on it. With my heart pounding, I opened the conversation. The most recent message was from Matias and read, “Okay. Let’s meet. When and where?”
I quickly scrolled up to read through the whole conversation. Each text message came days apart, like Matias couldn’t be bothered by Genevieve.
G: It’s Genevieve. I want to meet.
M: Genevieve who?
G: Genevieve Morgan. You’ve heard of me.
M: Of course.
G: Can we meet?
M: Meet?
G: I’m considering joining you.
M: Come to Chicago. We’ll talk it over.
G: I unfortunately have business in Nocton. Can you meet me here?
M: I don’t make house calls.
G: Do you want me on your side or not?
M: Okay. Let’s meet. When and where?
With each text message, my fingers trembled more and more. Was Genevieve trying to double cross us? Or was she doing this to lure Matias away from Chicago? I didn’t know. It was hard to tell the tone of the text messages.
She was on our side, I told myself. Deep down inside, I knew it. If Genevieve truly wanted to join him, she wouldn’t have ever helped us. Besides, Clarita had said this was part of her plan.
And Genevieve had placed it right in my hands.
22
I didn’t know what to do. I shivered the entire night, contemplating it all. Genevieve had left the choice up to me. Did I bring Matias here right now? Or did I wait until we had more people on our side?
You can’t waste any more time, I told myself. We have to do this now—with whatever we have.
Before I could make a formal decision, I drifted off to sleep.
I woke the next morning to an empty basement, all except for Venn, who was sitting up against the wall watching me sleep. I rubbed my eyes and sat up beside him.
“Where is everyone?” I asked in a groggy voice.
“They’re about to start the memorial,” he said.
I was instantly awake. “The memorial. We can’t miss it!”
I took Venn’s hand and shot to my feet. The house was quiet as we hurried up the stairs. French doors led out of the dining room and to a patio in the fenced-in back yard. It was dark and dreary outside, like it was about to rain.
I slowed as we approached the doors. Sondra and Clarita stood inside, looking out over the lawn. I could see everyone else outside sitting in folding chairs with their backs to us. They whispered amongst themselves, but I couldn’t hear what they said.
“Rae. Venn,” Sondra said. “We’ve been waiting for you. Are you ready?”
I started to nod, but I found myself taking a step backward. Images of my parents’ funeral flashed through my mind. It was a day like this one—dark, dreary, and cold. My mom’s friend, Kathy, had planned the whole thing. I’d told her I didn't want to say anything because I was afraid I'd cry the whole time, but I didn't. Not one tear.
In the months that followed, my sorrow turned into anger. I went from grieving my parents’ death to obsessing over my sister's return. When that hit a dead end, all that was left was a burning desire for revenge. Now that seemed futile.
I didn't want revenge for Genevieve's death. I just wanted my chance to grieve.
“You don't have to do this, Rae,” Venn said.
I took a deep breath. “No, I want to. Genevieve deserves this.”
We stepped outside and took a seat in the back row. I kept my head down to avoid everyone else’s sad gazes. Richard took a cue from Clarita and stood to say a few words. He had a hard time finding his voice.
“Thank you all for being here,” he said, choking up as he spoke. “Genevieve would’ve wanted you all here like this. The other night, she rolled over to me and said, ‘You know what, Richard? I’m glad this happened.’ I asked her what she meant, and she told me, ‘I’m glad we lost our magic. It brought me closer to so many people. I got to tell them I was sorry. Whatever happens when we face Matias, at least there’s that.’ I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but I get it now. Genevieve was ready to lay down her life for the rest of you, because through you, she finally found peace.”
Dry sobs bubbled up in my chest. Once they started, I couldn’t shut them off. Venn noticed and wrapped me in a hug, but that only made me shake harder. The image of her blood all over my hands entered my mind again. As soon as I saw that, I saw everything. Genevieve’s lifeless stare turned into my parents’ eyes. I was standing in their bedroom again the night the Soulless attacked, staring down at their bodies. Blood soaked my nightgown at my knees from where I’d sunk down into the pool of blood, too shocked to stay on my feet—too shocked to speak or move.
I pushed away from Venn and raced toward the back door into the house. His footsteps were close behind me. I buried my face in my hands and sank onto the couch in the living room.
Venn wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay. You can cry.”
I didn’t want to cry. It made me feel weak. The Ravenite never cried.
But I didn’t want to be the Ravenite right now. I just wanted to be Rachel Collins. I wanted to mourn the loss of my parents and my friend. Was that too much to ask?
Soft footsteps padded across the carpet, but I didn’t look up to see who they belonged to. I already knew by the cadence that it was my sister.
“I’ve got this,” Jenna said softly to Venn.
“I’m not leaving her,” Venn replied in an equal tone.
“I’d like to speak to her privately,” Jenna whispered.
He hesitated, then turned to me. “Is that okay, Rae?”
I nodded without looking up.
Venn headed back to the yard while Jenna took his spot on the couch. I leaned into her and sobbed.
“I miss them all so much,” I cried.
She rubbed my back. “I know, Rachel. I miss them, too.”
“Mom, Dad, Genevieve… none of them deserved this.”
“Rach, did you ever talk to Mom and Dad after they died?” Jenna asked gently.
“What do you mean?” I sniffled. Was she suggesting some sort of séance or something?
“Did you ever just talk to them… like pretend they were there and they could hear
you?”
“Jenna, that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
I drew away to look her in the eye. She shot me a pointed stare.
“No. I never talked to them,” I admitted.
Jenna rose from the couch. “Give me a minute.”
She stuck her head out the door and gestured to Zoey, who rose from the last row and came to talk to her. They whispered a few things back and forth I didn’t hear, then Zoey placed something small and metallic into Jenna’s hand.
“What’s going on?” I asked when she returned.
She grabbed my hand. “Come on. I need to show you something.”
I pulled against Jenna as she dragged me toward the front door. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she pressed.
“We’re in the middle of a memorial service!” I hissed.
“You need help,” she insisted. “I think you really need this right now.”
Jenna led me outside and to Zoey’s car in the driveaway. The keys jingled in her hand as she opened the driver-side door.
“Jenna, we can’t,” I objected. “I have something important I have to—”
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” she said, cutting me off. “Come on.”
Jenna was already in the driver’s seat and had started the engine.
I sighed and slid into the passenger seat.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed.
I placed my hands over my eyes. “This better be good.”
“Jenna, where are we going?” I asked in a rather irritated tone. “Can I open my eyes yet?”
I’d had them closed for half an hour already.
Jenna helped me out of the car. She held my arm and guided me across what felt like a soft lawn. “Not yet. Keep walking.”
“I’m going to trip over something,” I argued.
“You are not. We’re almost there.”
Jenna came to a halt, and I stopped beside her. She grabbed my shoulders and turned me to my left.
“Okay,” she said. “You can open your eyes now.”
My stomach bottomed out when I saw where she’d brought me. A long stretch of grass spanned in front of us, dotted with evenly-spaced headstones. Just feet in front of me were two matching marble headstones with my parents’ names engraved on them. Dean and Marissa Collins.
