Better 'Ink Twice

by Rachel Rawlings

  “That’s going to leave a mark.” Lars tried to conjure enough magic to break the lock on the grate but it just fizzled out.

  “I might have enough for a little Witch Fire.” The distance from the cells was enough that my magic started to regenerate but it was far from a full recovery. The flame I produced was closer to a candle than a torch. “This is going to take forever.”

  Lars tried one more time to conjure a flame of his own. “We don’t have forever.”

  There is nothing like the roar of rushing water crashing against the concrete walls as it forces its way through the pipe that futilely tries to contain it— especially when you are at the end of that pipe.

  “Lars—” Panic held my vocal cords in a vice grip.

  Nicholas, barely conscious, reached up and wrapped a hand around both of our wrists; essentially turning himself into a conduit. None of our magic alone was enough, but through Nicholas, it flowed from one to the other, amplifying as it circulated back and forth. The Witch Fire increased in intensity, burning through the lock and part of the grate just as the water rounded the last bend and slammed into us. The grate swung open. All we could do was ride the waterfall down and hope the river led us to freedom.

  I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity, only to have it rush out as I hit the water with a glorious belly-flop. The impact and subsequent burn on the front half of my body forced all that precious air out of my lungs. I tried and lost the fight against the urge to gulp in air. Kicking and fighting my way to the surface, I breached; arms flailing as I coughed and gagged up the gallons of Providence River I’d swallowed.

  “Lars?” I called out, between coughs. The pounding rain strengthened the current, making it harder to keep my head above water. “Nicholas?” Neither answered.

  I tried again, shouting their names while I dog paddled in a circle looking for them. Still nothing. Lights flickered above from the end of the drainpipe. The guards.

  “For the love of goddess...” I dipped under the surface, using the current to my advantage, and swam until my lungs screamed for air. Exhausted, the swim across the river to land was more difficult than it normally would have been. I dragged myself through the mucky sediment and onto shore where I collapsed face first in the wet dirt. Rain pelted my backside but I was too waterlogged to notice.

  After a minute or two, the worst of the storm subsided, slowing to a drizzle, and I forced myself to get up. I staggered down to the water’s edge to scan for Lars and Nicholas and caught a glimpse of my reflection on the surface. Freshly risen zombie wasn’t my best look— it wasn’t my worst, either.

  A silhouette resembling the Swamp Thing waved from shore on the opposite side of the river. Lars. It was dark and almost impossible to see, but I’d recognize him anywhere. I waved back, signaling I was okay. One down, one to go. I kept scanning the shore for Nicholas. He had to have washed up somewhere. Relief wrapped itself around me, a warm buffer against the bitter night air, when Lars hoisted up a mass resembling the outline of a person. Nicholas.

  All present and accounted for, Lars and I simultaneously pointed in the same direction. Toward the lights on the horizon. It had to be the ferry— which meant I was somewhere around Collier Point while Lars and Nicholas washed up on Fox Point. Which also meant I had to cross the full width of the river.

  Sink or swim, Adeline. Sink or swim.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Growing up in the Ocean State doesn’t automatically make you a great swimmer. At least, not if you’re a witch. Salt water plays havoc with our magic, hence our natural aversion to the ocean. I’d been spending far too much time in the water in recent months. But a salt bath after lead poisoning? To say my magic was stunted would have been the understatement of the century. Another dip and I might as well swear off warding for a month. I stood at the water’s edge reviewing my options.

  Except, I didn’t have any.

  Not if I wanted to rejoin Lars and Nicholas— which I did. We didn’t fight our way in and out of the campus just to part ways at a fork in the river. I waded back into the water until it was deep enough for the sidestroke. It was the only swimming technique I knew— unless the dog paddle counted. My muscles burned from overexertion and a buildup of lactic acid. Cramps broke my stride and left me adrift in the river more than once, almost doubling the time it should have taken to cross.

  I reached the shallow waters on the other side, touched bottom and tried to walk the rest of the way to shore. My legs gave out twice. I went under both times. Lars left Nicholas on the rocky shore and plunged into the water to get me. He hooked his arms under mine and pulled me out of the river, where we collapsed on the rocks.

  “I know you’re spent but we can’t stop.” Lars took off his shirt and rung it out. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

  Nicholas stirred, a good sign some of the effects of lead poisoning were starting to wear off. But a full recovery was a long way away and until then, he was dead weight. Lars scooped him up, adjusting his hold until he had Nicholas in a fireman’s carry again and trudged off in the direction of the docks. I forced my body into motion and headed off in the same direction.

  The winds picked up, shifting the storm clouds enough for the moon to peek through. Lars and I both stopped, willing to risk a few precious seconds of the lead we had on the guards to soak in a few moonbeams. Utterly depleted, I could have basked in the light of the Goddess until my magic was fully restored but having seen the cells up close, I valued my freedom too much to stay any longer. So, I forged on and followed Lars to the ferry and what I thought was our ride out of the city.

  “What’s she doing here?” I asked, confused by the sight of Amber standing beside her car in the ferry parking lot.

  “She’s the getaway driver.” Lars ascended the rocky slope leading up to the parking area with ease despite carrying an extra person.

  I somehow managed to scrape every inch of exposed skin fighting a mini rockslide on my way up. “She’s the getaway driver? I don’t remember that being part of the plan.”

  “It was.” Lars kept moving. “You must have missed it. Honestly, I’m surprised you heard anything over the sound of you chomping down donuts.”

  “There is not enough fried dough or coffee in the world to distract me from the fact that you dragged someone else into this mess.” I reached the top, hands pressed firmly on my knees as I tried to catch my breath.

  Amber pushed herself off the hood of her car and crossed two parking spaces to where I was hunched over. “You can’t drag me into anything I don’t already want to be a part of.” She gave me a firm pat on the back before hooking an arm around my ribs and hoisting me up. “Besides, if anyone dragged me into anything, it was Winslow. My aunt’s murderers deserve to be named, to be punished. She deserves justice and I can’t get it for her if you’re in a lead cell instead of him.”

  Winslow sent two of his men to Crane House. That much was true. But he wouldn’t have sent them if we weren’t there. Amber and I may not agree about who was responsible for Margret’s death but we could at least agree she deserved justice. Rather than argue about the possibility of more innocent blood on my hands should something happen to her, I accepted Amber’s help into the backseat of the car. Lars lowered Nicholas into the seat beside me, laying his head on my lap so he could fold his legs inside the car and shut the door.

  “Everyone buckled up for safety?” Amber adjusted the rearview mirror before shouting dispatch and throwing the car into reverse.

  My head whipped back against the seat before hitting the window with a thud as she careened around a corner. “Where are we going?” I asked while rubbing the newly forming knot on my forehead.

  “Lane Thirteen.” Lars peered around the headrest. “Hold his head still.”

  “That place was burned.” I put a hand on either side of Nicholas’s head to keep it stable and noted his temperature. He still had a fever, a few of the blisters and sores healed but the majority were
still there. I used my fingers to comb some of his hair off to the side and out of his face.

  “Only by him.” Lars jabbed his thumb in Nicholas’s direction.

  Amber drifted the car around the next left like she was a racecar driver. “You don’t think he told his uncle or the Magistrate?”

  “No.” Lars turned his attention to Amber. “Not anymore.”

  “I meant burned in the literal sense.” I readjusted the seatbelt away from my neck for the umpteenth time— short people problems. “Remember the witch fire?”

  “Yeah, considering I’m the one who set the trigger. I didn’t torch the whole building.” Lars stifled a yawn. The adrenaline was wearing off. “It would have spread. Burning down an entire block would have drawn too much attention from the mundanes.”

  “Well, that’s fortuitous.” Amber punched the gas. She had a serious lead foot. If things didn’t work out back at the diner in Sleepy Hollow, she could have one hell of a career as a getaway driver.

  I looked at Nicholas, passed out in my lap. The stress and anxiety I’d seen growing in his eyes as we learned more about Grim and Vincent was gone but so was the easy smile and awkward moments that ignited a spark between us. He looked at peace but his aura said otherwise. Red pulsated throughout his energy; same as the first day we met. At least now I knew the source of all that anger and turmoil. He was a dual-natured.

  And people died to keep it a secret.

  ***

  We ditched the car and walked the last two blocks to the bowling alley. The streets were deserted, save from a few rats navigating the potholes as they scurried across the parking lot— which was fortunate considering the glamour wore off and we were back to our true forms. The old building loomed before us with its crumbling charred bricks and shattered windows. If you overlooked the vandalism, remnants from the occasional teenage party, and the charcoaled interior, it wasn’t too bad. One of the last wards I performed was inside those walls. It felt like a lifetime ago. But time is relative. A change in circumstance can turn a few months into forever.

  Circumstances like being wanted for treason and murder or being locked in a lead cell. Just as an example.

  Nicholas came to as we rounded the back of the building. Still draped over Lars’s shoulder like an old rolled-up rug, he tried to convince us he was capable of walking on his own. When that didn’t work, he switched to complaining about the view.

  Amber was the only one of us who hadn’t gone for a swim in salt water, putting her on the top of the power pyramid. An admission that pained me even if it was only temporary. I never considered myself a vain witch when it came to my magic but Id’ never been so stunted.

  At least it was only temporary.

  Aware of the power differential, Amber took charge. A position she was a little too comfortable with if you asked me— though no one did. She pulled a witch kit out of her satchel and handed it to Lars who handed it over to me. She watched with an amused look on her face as I inventoried the contents of her kit before turning her attention to the task of setting perimeter wards around the building.

  The kit contained enough salves and balms to treat the various blisters and sores on Nicholas’s body. After handing Lars the roll of gauze, I held the jar of healing salve as far away as possible while still being able to open it, in the hopes I wouldn’t have to smell it. I twisted the metal cap until the seal broke with a little pop. Being short has its disadvantages— like arm’s length, for instance— because I couldn’t hold the jar far enough away from my nose. Healing salves wreaked— which is why I typically used charms. The pungent smell of menthol combined with stagnant bog water delivered a punch to the olfactory that made my eyes water.

  “Sorry,” I managed in the midst of a painful gag-cough combo, “there weren’t any charms.” After slathering as much of the salve as Nicholas could tolerate onto his sores, I capped the jar. Muttering my apologies and how it was nothing personal, I moved to sit by the broken window on the opposite wall— where I could suck in as much fresh air as possible.

  Nicholas wiped fresh tears from his cheeks. “This stuff makes your eyes water.” He took a deep breath, face puckering as he got a mouthful the fumes permeating from his salve-covered chest and arms. “The taste is worse than the smell.” He sounded hoarse, on the verge of laryngitis.

  From shouting at his jailors or cries of pain? I wanted to know with the possibility of experiencing a lead cell firsthand looming, I was too afraid to ask.

  “Thank you.” He tried to clear his throat but it didn’t improve his voice. “For coming back, I mean. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry it took so long.” I cast a sideways glance at Lars who was sharing a bottle of water with Amber. I wasn’t sure what to do with the knowledge of Lars’s betrayal. Nicholas deserved to know. There’d been enough secrets surrounding our families as it was. “Listen, there’s something I want to tell you... I mean, back at the apartment—”

  “I shouldn’t have put you in that position.” Nicholas shook his head. Wincing, he started massaging his temples. “Remind me not to do that anymore, okay? My head is spinning and it feels like it’s going to explode.” Nicholas thought I was upset about unraveling the ward. That only made telling him the truth harder.

  “No, that’s not what... What I was going to say was...” I fumbled all over the words. “The Magistrate—”

  Interrupted again.

  This time by Amber. “Do you guys want some water?” She came over with two bottles of water and a couple of protein bars. “Hungry?” She was all smiles— except for her eyes. There was a warning in the look she gave me. Keeping up the nursemaid charade, she held out a bottle of water but didn’t let go when I tried to take it. She kept a firm grip, only letting go once I tugged hard enough to pull it free of her hand. She brightened her smile and softened her eyes before turning to Nicholas. She set his on the floor beside him and went back over with Lars.

  “I’ll be right back.” I stood up, brushing a little of the ash and dirt off my jeans and crossed three lanes to get to the snack bar where Lars and Amber took up residence.

  On the verge of losing my temper, my face was flushed and hives broke across my skin. I peeled back the wrapper of my protein bar and took a bite. “You got a minute?” I asked around a mouthful of food. I had better manners but maybe if my mouth was full, it would slow my tongue. I swallowed the chocolate covered paste they tried to pass off as cookie dough and forced myself to take another bite— choking it down before saying anything else.

  “I’m getting the impression there’s something brewing between the two of you. Which is...” I struggle for the right words. “Cool. A lid for every spelling pot, right?” I pinched the bridge of my nose and started counting to ten. I made it to three when Amber categorically denied it. “It was rhetorical, Amber. I don’t care if there’s something going on.” Lars bristled at my comment. “I mean I do.” I looked directly at Lars. “I want you to be happy. But I’m not going to lie or keep secrets anymore. We’ve been caught in a web of them from the start.”

  “You’re going to tell him.” Lars didn’t phrase it as a question. He already knew. “He’ll leave.”

  “In his condition?” Amber drew our attention to Nicholas, who’d fallen asleep almost immediately after I left him. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  Lars brushed a layer of dirt and grime off the counter. “So, we tell him the truth.” He propped up his elbows and leaned forward. “Then what?”

  “Then I unravel the ward.” It felt like a ball of writhing snakes took residence in my stomach as the nerves settled in. Questions about my motives and whether Nicholas would even survive the process swirled in my head.

  Lars and I seemed to be on the same wavelength. It was like old times. Except for the part where we were wanted for murder and Winslow, along with the Magistrate, was actively hunting us. “Having him, the real him, on our side wouldn’t hurt.” Lars didn’t need to elaborate. We all knew
he was talking about death magic. “But I don’t think he’s in any condition to go through with it. Neither are you.”

  I drew the goddess symbol in the dust covering the counter. “If you’ve got any better ideas, I’m all ears but we’re out of places to hide. Winslow will find us and when he does... A lead cell will feel like a four-star hotel.”

  Amber wrapped a hand around Lars’s forearm, steadying herself. “For you. I doubt Lars and I would see the inside of one. Still, I think... We’ve all lost people we loved, people who took the secret of what they did and who he is to their grave. And you want to undo that, to give Winslow what he’s after?”

  I swiped my palm across the counter, erasing the symbols I’d drawn. “The way I see it, we have two choices. One, I unravel the ward and we use Nicholas to our advantage.” I cringed at the idea of using anyone’s magic like that. It felt wrong, dirty, and exactly like what his uncle wanted to do. But I was fresh out of alternatives. “Or two, I unravel it for Winslow. Because if we don’t do something soon, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. We’re not winning. We’re running. Look at us,” I included Amber even though she fared the best out of all of us after the prison break. “All we’re doing is delaying the inevitable.”

  Lars sighed and pushed himself off the counter. “When do we do it?”

  “We won’t be doing anything. I’ll be unravel—”

  Amber waved that notion off. “No. His death magic has been bottled up since he was a baby. There’s no telling what will happen when you uncork it.” She looked at Lars while she spoke to me. “We’re going to help you prepare and we’re staying with you the whole time. That’s not up for debate, Adeline.”

  I was starting to see why they liked each other.

  “Fine,” I grumbled. I didn’t want Lars or Amber involved with the unraveling for the same reasons but she used my argument against me before I had the chance to make it. I’d be a liar if I didn’t say a part of me was relieved to have the help.