Jude’s expression turns grim. Dylan mimics him.
The wind picks up and lightening flashes across the sky. My entire body tingles.
A familiar screech fills the air, followed by a second and a third. The crows. Dozens of them. Swarming.
“Can’t you control them?” I yell to Jude.
Jude’s hands are pressed to the sky, as if trying to communicate with the birds. His expression shifts from intense focus to rage. His hands curl into fists and he roars. He turns to Dylan and me. “Seamus is controlling them.”
I stare at Jude unable to comprehend that these creepy crows haven’t been doing his bidding all along when they fly at us in force, like an army of winged warriors. Dylan and I duck. I feel the brush of their feathers. Dylan isn’t as lucky. He’s gashed by a beak or a talon and blood trickles down his forehead.
Jude’s face is a mask of fury as he hurls fireballs at the birds, taking them out two and three at a time. The crows disperse and reband in two groups, coming at us from both sides. Dylan tugs at my arm pulling me toward the access door. “Lucy, come on.” But I can’t leave Marcus. I pull away and try to run to my gargoyle, ducking as a second wave of crows makes another pass. The screeching rings in my ears.
“Lucy!” Jude shouts from behind me.
Seamus McAllister stands on the ledge, his eyes filled with hatred. A promise of suffering lurks in them, of finishing what he started that night in Marcus’ apartment.
Chapter Forty-Two
Seamus waves his hand, sweeping my legs from beneath me. My hip slams against concrete with a jolt of pain.
“Lucy!” Dylan shouts.
I scramble to my feet as several crows descend, their sharp beaks stabbing my head, face, shoulders and arms. I wallop the red-eyed beasts with my fists. Dylan reaches me and punches at the crows. One connects and a crow falls. It scrabbles around trying to regain flight, its crushed wing lying useless on the roof while its mates continue their assault. My hands heat up. I try to focus underneath the flapping and dive-bombing. I draw the heat up and release it. A crow goes flying off the roof engulfed in flames.
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Dylan pants.
“Sure, just not now.” I keep sending fireballs into the crows. Dylan takes off his jacket and starts swinging at them.
Jude launches a series of fireballs at Seamus, who weaves and dives to avoid them. One hits its mark—Seamus’ arm—and the smell of burning flesh again fills the air. Nausea curls in the pit of my stomach. I focus on breathing through my mouth while beating off the crows.
I bump into Dylan, whose face is buried in the crook of his arm as he gags, and remind him to do the same. “Some Homecoming this turned out to be,” he chokes, whipping crows with his jacket. I spin around in time to see Jude thrust his hands toward Seamus. The gray-haired demon flies across the rooftop and slams into the ledge. I hurl a fireball that hits him square on the shoulder. Never mind that I was aiming for his chest. His shirt catches fire. Seamus flicks his finger, effectively dousing the flames.
“Get inside!” Jude shouts at Dylan and me.
A flock of crows screech in unison as they descend, blocking our access to the door. It’s like they’re multiplying. The roof is littered with broken birds and I’ve burned a dozen of them, but somehow, there are more. I cover my face as their beaks and bodies pummel me. I stumble onto my knees and grit my teeth against the pain. Raising my hands over my head, I keep shooting fireballs, but I can tell I’m running out of power or stamina or something. Man, I hate that Jude was right. If I’d been practicing, if I hadn’t been so foolish as to think he was trying to kill me, I’d be able to take out all of these stupid birds. Now Dylan and Marcus are going to die because of me.
I shriek as someone grabs my arm.
“Lucy!” Dylan yells over the screeching. With one hand protecting his face, he pulls me to my feet. “Let’s get to the door.”
My breath hitches as I see the amulet dangling around his neck. We need help. It hasn’t done much good so far, but maybe…just maybe. I grab hold and yank. Clutching it in my fist, I whisper, help me, help me, help me. The amulet sits still and silent and no glorious insight occurs to me. The birds do not magically disappear. So much for my witch powers. I sprint across the rooftop and lay the amulet on top of Marcus, hoping it still provides protection. I brush my lips across his stone cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
“Lucy!” Jude shouts.
I whirl around as Seamus sends Jude flying across the rooftop, where he collides into Dylan. The crows swarm and converge on them. They’re lost in a sea of black feathers. Seamus’ attention locks on me and ice snakes down my spine. The wind whips my hair, stings my eyes. Seamus came to kill me. Once Seamus figures out who Dylan is, he’ll be next. I can’t let that happen. I swallow my fear and stoke the fire inside of me. It quickly turns to rage. I hurl a fireball at Seamus. He dodges it easily. I conjure another. It’s smaller this time. I throw it anyway. Seamus bats it aside and advances on me. I try to conjure another fireball but the flame doesn’t come.
“Come on, come on!” I shake my hands trying to get them to ignite. A couple sparks fizz and then nothing. Seamus’ mouth pulls into a terrible grin. He’s only a few feet away when he lifts his hands toward me.
The pile of crows suddenly explodes and Dylan and Jude emerge from a burst of burning feathers. “Lucy!” Jude blasts a series of fireballs at Seamus, one after another after another, fast and furious as if shot from a rocket launcher. But it’s too late.
The air whooshes from my lungs as Seamus’ power hits me. Oh God… his magic… hurts. I try to scream, but it feels like my chest is caving in. My heart and lungs are being crushed as I’m hurled through the air with the force of jet propulsion. I catch flashes of images as I fly. Jude’s dread and helplessness. Dylan’s terror. Marcus, encased in stone.
My heartbeat bangs in my ears. I can’t breathe. Can’t swallow. I shoot off the roof and slam into a tree with a sickening crunch. I can’t stop myself from falling. I try to grab branches as strange electrical impulses shoot down my limbs. My arms won’t work. Rhythmic flashes of light pulse in my eyes. Something warm and wet runs down my neck, my back. As I fall, the branches yank at my hair, tearing at my skin and my dress. I failed. I failed. What will Seamus do now?
I send Jude one last request. SAVE THEM.
Then my body crashes onto the ground.
Chapter Forty-Three
Looking up at the stars, I feel nothing. The pain is gone. I try to turn my head to see the roof. I can’t. I move my eyes and watch as Jude leaps from the roof. I hear him race to my side. Standing over me, his eyes bulge. Veins stand out on his neck. Kneeling down, he grabs hold of me and pulls me into his arms. My blood stains his fancy shirt.
Over Jude’s shoulder, I see Dylan on the roof, shaking his fists in anger and shouting something I can’t make out. Watch out, I want to tell him. Seamus will get you, too.
A strange, swirling light appears behind Jude. Twinkling and bright, like Christmas. It spins slowly at first, but builds speed, like a cyclone. Then the pretty light is gone, and in its place stands a raven and a spotted cat.
I smell Gram’s homemade bread. Delicious and warm.
I smile and close my eyes.
Chapter Forty-Four
“Lucy!”
I open my eyes and jerk my head upright, sucking in as much air as my lungs can handle. My heart pounds. I’m alive? I check myself for injuries and finding none look around. I’m back on the stupid boat.
“Here.” Zack thrusts a container of popcorn in my hands and then gestures to the small table between us. “Lemonade and iced tea, just the way you like it.”
My tongue feels thick. Stuck. I can’t form any words.
“The show’s about to start.” Zack nods toward the huge movie screen at the front of the room. We’re in the same room as last time, but instead of gowns and tuxedos, the crowd wears elegant pajamas. Everyone is munchi
ng on popcorn and drinking wildly-colored cocktails. I stare, transfixed by the glow of lime green, pink and orange liquid in fancy glasses. A hush falls over the crowd as the room goes dark.
The film starts to roll. There’s some static and the picture is grainy. There on the screen is…me. I’m being carried by a shirtless Jude into his mansion, down a hall and onto the dining room table. He sweeps an extravagant, silver candelabra from the center of the table and sends it crashing to the floor. His shirt is wrapped tightly around my head. Henry and Persephone are there. Where did they come from?
The three of them surround my broken body. Their attention is momentarily diverted as Aiden rushes into the room, carrying a large metal bowl, herbs, a pentacle board, a black candle and four small blue ones. Dylan follows, cradling the ravens, which are carefully wrapped in his suit coat.
“They’ll help save her?” Dylan asks Henry, his expression doubtful as he hands over the birds. “They’re barely alive.”
“We’re all going to save Lucy,” Henry says gravely. “But we can’t do it without them.”
Setting the bundle on the table, Henry unwraps the ravens. He places his hands on Lola as he closes his eyes, his brow creased in concentration.
“You really did a number on them,” Persephone hisses at Jude. “You rotten son-of-a—”
“Not now Persephone.” Henry’s voice is calm but firm. “I need your help. Focus, please.”
Persephone shoots Jude her nastiest glare before taking the herbs from Aiden.
“I found the angelica root and blessed thistle,” Aiden informs her. “I wasn’t able to get catnip, but I found burdock instead.”
“You did well, Aiden. Thank you.”
Working quickly, Persephone dumps the herbs in the metal bowl. Adding small amounts of castor oil, olive oil and essential oil of lavender, she combines the ingredients with her fingers. She lights a match, chants under her breath, and throws the match onto the herbs. There’s a small burst of flames, followed by a stream of smoke.
I press my clammy hands against my cheeks as I stare at the screen, at my too-still body on that table, at all the blood. My stomach lurches. Can they save me? And what about Marcus? Is he still on the roof? Is he safe?
“Jude, did you bring the gems?” Henry asks, placing his fingers onto Lola’s torso.
“Two emeralds, one diamond, two topaz, one jade and one lapis.” He rattles them off, his eyes never leaving my face.
“Persephone,” Henry calls softly.
Nodding, she scoops some of the herb mixture from the metal bowl and spreads it onto Lola’s head and torso. Henry shifts his attention to Serenity, placing his fingers on her little body and closing his eyes.
Dylan shoots a curious glance at Aiden, who shakes his head.
Persephone lights the thick black candle and an incense stick. She sets it in a bronze tray and waves the smoke over the birds.
When Henry nods, she applies the remaining herb mixture onto Serenity’s head and chest.
Henry and Persephone stand on opposite sides of the table and select specific gems from the pile beside my head. I grow dizzy at the sight of Jude’s shirt, now completely soaked through with my blood. Holding the gems above the ravens, their whispered chants are urgent.
Dylan cranes his neck to get a clear view of the birds. He gasps when he sees them both suddenly stand on the table, their eyes open and alert, their tail feathers twitching. “It worked!”
“Don’t get too excited,” Aiden tells him. “It’s temporary. After this is done, it’s going to be touch and go.”
“Get to work on Lucy,” Jude commands, his face a grim mask.
Persephone hands a stone to each person with orders to form a circle around the table. “Dylan, take the far end.” Since the table is more than twice as long as me, Dylan slides onto it, sitting cross-legged at my feet. “Aiden and Henry, take her right side. Jude you stay on her left. This should balance the circle’s powers.” Persephone moves to the head of the table. Bringing the ravens to her lips, Persephone whispers to them, first Lola and then Serenity, then places them on either side of my head.
She quickly mixes a new batch of the herbal mixture, her trademark frown more severe than ever. She turns to Jude. “Open her dress across her stomach.”
Jude raises his hand in the air. “Knife,” he calls out. A wicked looking knife soars through the air, then claps against Jude’s palm with a metallic thud.
I cry out as he slices through the shimmery fabric. My beautiful dress! A dozen heads in the glowing room turn and glare, shushing me.
Zack smirks. “Yeah, the dress is your biggest problem right now.”
I ignore him and groan when I remember that Dylan is watching all of this, too. Could it get anymore embarrassing than to be splayed out on a table in front of the super popular, uber jock? I sink low in my seat. Mortification doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling. Persephone applies the herb mixture to my throat, heart and exposed abdomen. I groan. It just can’t get any worse than having Dylan watch me semi-naked and being painted with herb mush until Jude reaches behind my head with both hands.
White-hot pokers spear into my skull. I scream and slam back against my seat in agony, my body arching. Stars dance across my vision, consciousness threatens to slip away.
“Lucy!” Zack yells.
The pokers are jammed into my skull again. I scream and grab my head, which feels like it’s going to crack into halves. Tears run down my face. Clutching my head, I watch Jude cradle the back of my skull, his eyes closed in concentration. What is he doing? The pain spikes and I squeeze my eyes shut. I retch as the pain cuts my skull, my brain. Just when I’m sure my head is going to break open, the pain ratchets down just enough that I can open my eyes.
The screen still shows me on the table, in the circle, Jude at my head, but now the picture is grainy. The pain eases and the picture turns fuzzier still. The pain ebbs and pulses as the picture goes in and out of focus. The screen snaps to black, the other movie watchers disappear and so does the pain. I’m panting and soaked with sweat but at least the awful pain is gone. I fan myself with my shirt collar and try to slow my breathing.
Zack says nothing. He just watches me until he seems convinced I’m going to be okay. He releases an unsteady sigh and pushes himself out of his chair. “Good to see you again, sis. Do me a favor, though, and don’t come back anytime soon. Okay?” He nudges my hand with his own, then he fades away and I’m left alone in the blackness.
Chapter Forty-Five
Three faces swim into view. Marcus’ is not among them.
“Where is he?” I whisper. Late morning sunlight filters through the window. I tilt my head, anticipating pain. There is none.
“Try not to move.” Persephone frowns, stroking my cheek.
“How do you feel? Are you thirsty? Hungry?” Jude hovers over me. His face is etched with deep lines. His hair is streaked with gray that wasn’t there before.
I move my head again, less cautiously this time. I flex my fingers and toes, then arms and legs. They all work. It doesn’t hurt. I’m okay.
“What happened to Seamus?” I ask, my voice thick with relief.
Persephone and Henry turn to Jude. His expression hardens. “He escaped.”
My happiness vanishes. “Escaped? But…he’ll be back. He won’t stop until I’m dead!” My entire body spasms with fear.
Jude sits on the edge of the bed, reaches for my hand. I hold my breath, anticipating the electrical shock. It’s surprisingly mild. “I’ll find him, Lucy. He won’t hurt you again. I promise.”
“Where are Marcus and Dylan? Are they okay?”
“Dylan’s fine,” Persephone says with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. “He’ll come by later to take you home.”
I exhale long and slow. Dylan’s fine. That’s good.
The three of them look at each other. The silence in the room is deafening. “And Marcus?”
Henry clears his throat. “Marcus is resting,
which is exactly what you need to do.”
“I want to see him.”
Persephone glances at Henry, her lips twitchy. “When Jude turned him back to his human form, Marcus used everything he had to heal you. It worked, but…”
Marcus sacrificed himself for me. I remember tearing the amulet from Dylan’s throat and laying it on Marcus’s stone form. It didn’t do any good after all. He saved me three times and I couldn’t even help save him once. “But what?”
“He’s back in his stone form,“ Henry says.
“What? Why?” I bolt upright.
“You need to calm down,” Jude orders, his hand on my arm. The shock is stronger this time. It courses through me like adrenaline.
“Marcus is in bad shape, Lucy. He needs to stay in his stone form to heal.” Henry is the voice of reason.
He isn’t dead. And he isn’t permanently stuck in stone form. I sink back against my pillows, my body fluttering with energy. “For how long?”
“We don’t know. We can’t rush it, though.” Henry meets my gaze. “He gave you everything he had.”
My stomach drops and I have to force myself to breathe.
“He’s not going to die is he?” I need to hear them say it.
“No.” Persephone fixes my covers. “But you’re going to need to be patient.”
I turn to Jude, every muscle in my body quivering. “This is your fault.”
Jude holds my gaze for a moment and then looks away.
“Go back to sleep.” Persephone’s voice is gentle.
“Wake me when Dylan gets here,” I tell her.
* * * *
I’m sitting at a glass-topped white table in the corner of the bedroom. I keep waiting for the pain, but there is none. I feel weak, but that’s nothing compared to what could have been. Jude delivers a steaming bowl of soup in front of me, along with a basket of rolls. He fusses over me, making sure I’m comfortable. Steam rises from the large bowl. I inhale the amazing smell as I stir the vegetables and lentils in a dark brown broth. I grab a warm roll and nibble on it, waiting for my soup to cool a little.
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