“She has a point, Laurel,” I agreed. “It’s easy and efficient.”
But before we could come to a consensus on the plan, the screen door banged open and Karma emerged from the house, the doll in one hand and a sewing needle in the other.
“I heard you through the window,” she said in a flat voice, and plunged the needle into the heart of the doll.
7
In Which Dominic Deteriorates
A hot, searing pain pierced my heart before I plunged into darkness, losing consciousness the second after Karma’s sewing needle punctured the canvas fabric of the doll. I remained aware of the state of my heart, still beating but tricked by Karma’s craft into thinking it had been pierced by the sharpest of knives. It struggled to keep my body working, but my mind had already relinquished all of my willpower to Karma. Never in my life had Karma used her ability on me, not even during our petty sister-versus-sister fights when we were younger. I had always been aware of Karma’s power, but this was a whole new level of understanding; the prospect of unendurable torture always lingered at the tips of Karma’s fingers.
After what felt like hours, though it was probably only seconds, the agony faded just as rapidly as it had come on. I wrenched myself back to alertness, pulling short, labored breaths in through my nose. When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying face up on the firm, splintered wood of the porch with three worried faces peering at me from above.
“Morgan?” Gwenlyn leaned over me and smacked my cheek a few times. I focused on her face, wondering just how zoned out I must have looked in that moment.
I opened my mouth and croaked, “Where’s Karma?”
“I’m right here.” From the sharp edge in her voice and the steely look of her green eyes, I could tell that my sister had been returned to her right mind. I could also tell that she was furious with herself for not being able to resist Dominic’s trance. “Gwenlyn socked me in the jaw, and Laurel added me to the blood bond. Are you okay?”
Sure enough, I saw the red swell of a massive bruise spreading its way across the left side of Karma’s face. That was twice Gwenlyn had stopped one of my sisters from trying to kill me. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to do it again. “Just give me a second,” I said, closing my eyes again. “I need a second.”
Someone’s hand closed gently around my wrist, and soon I heard Gwenlyn’s coarse voice hum a healing spell. Her aura, as well as Karma’s and Laurel’s, pumped its way through my veins, rushing to the places in my body that needed help. My damaged vocal cords knitted themselves back together, and the lingering feeling of tightness dissipated from its place around my heart. Now that the four of us were linked, the healing spell worked faster than it would’ve from the hands of just one witch. Unfortunately, it didn’t work to re-energize me. Between Karma’s and Laurel’s attacks, I had had all of the stamina beaten out of me. Still, there was no option to head back to the loft for a nap. We had to bind the rest of the coven.
When I was ready, I pushed myself up from the porch and into a seated position. Gwenlyn, Karma, and Laurel stood back to allow me some breathing room. Then I reached out, took hold of Gwenlyn’s hand, and let her pull me to standing. Karma looked on, her eyebrows still knit together in fury.
“Karma,” I said, bridging the distance between us to wrap my arms around her. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated. I drew away from her and spun around to show her that I was unharmed. “Look. Good as new. And now that you’re included in the blood bond, it will be way easier to add the rest of the coven. Where’s that doll?”
In whatever scuffle had followed my blackout, the doll had been pitched into the yard. Laurel hurried off the porch to fetch it and brought it back to us. I tried to give the now grass-stained doll to Karma, but she shook her head, refusing to lay a hand on it.
“We need to link Mom,” I explained. “And from the looks of how things are going so far, she’s going to put up a massive fight when we try to do it. Unless you control her.”
“Did you not see what just happened?” Karma asked, still pushing the doll away. “Nothing good comes from my abilities.”
“You were acting under Dominic’s trance,” said Laurel. “I was too. I tried to strangle Morgan. Come on, Kar, we need you.”
“No,” Karma said, shaking her head. “Besides, we all share that power now. One of you can do it.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” said Gwenlyn. She snatched the doll from my hands and thrust it into Karma’s arms. “Get over yourself. None of us know how to work that ability yet, so if you don’t do this, Cassandra is probably going to try to kill all of us, and we don’t want that, do we? Ever heard of using your power for good? Suck it up, Karma, and bring your mother downstairs.”
Once again, I sent a silent thank you up to the heavens for Gwenlyn’s presence on earth. Her brusque take on encouragement somehow managed to get through to Karma. My sister took a deep breath as her fingers closed around the doll.
“Let’s go inside,” I suggested. Laurel pulled open the screen door so that we could file into the kitchen and then into the dining room. From there, we could see the front hallway and the bottom of the staircase. “All right, Karma. All you need to do is get her downstairs. I can do the blood bond. Gwenlyn and Laurel, you keep watch in case Malia wakes up. We’ll bond her next.”
“You keep watch,” ordered Gwenlyn. “I think you’ve lost enough blood tonight.”
“Look who’s talking,” I said shortly. “But fine. You do it. Karma, you ready?”
Karma nodded, the doll cradled in the crook of her arm. Though Karma had several dolls, this particular canvas one was versatile enough so that she could control whoever she wanted with it. She only had to set an intention. She inhaled, and the doll began to glow with Karma’s lilac witchcraft. The sewing needle appeared in Karma’s hand, but this time she wasn’t using it to inflict pain. She pressed the needle into the head of the doll, manipulating it with a few simple twitches of her fingertips.
The old steps creaked as a set of footsteps clambered down them. My mother appeared, pale and ghostly in the night, her long nightgown flowing behind her as she descended the stairs. Like Laurel’s had been, her face was devoid of any kind of emotion. She stepped down to the landing and joined her daughters in the dining room, all without any indication that she recognized us.
“Go, Gwen,” I whispered, nudging Gwenlyn forward.
“I’m going,” she said back, taking a tentative step toward Cassandra. “She’s just kind of creepy like this.”
I couldn’t disagree. I had never seen my mother so passive. As Gwenlyn reached for Cassandra’s hand, I held my breath, waiting for my mother to respond in defense of Dominic’s hold on her. But Karma kept Cassandra subdued, and Gwenlyn had no trouble using the paring knife to prick Cassandra’s finger. Then Gwenlyn dug the tip of the knife into her thumb and pressed the two minor wounds together.
Cassandra’s eyes cleared instantly, and Karma pulled the pin from the doll. My mind once again expanded to add Cassandra’s ability of foresight to its growing repertoire. My mother could see briefly into the future, which would come in handy when we marched off to face Dominic.
Cassandra glanced down at the blood on her finger, then back up to her daughters. “Malia?” she prompted, asking about our eldest sister. She needed no other explanation of the blood bond, immediately understanding our intention. Dominic’s trance needed to be broken, and if this was the only way, Cassandra could accept that.
“Still asleep,” said Laurel.
Cassandra nodded. “Bring her downstairs then.”
In a matter of moments, Karma had manipulated the doll to convince our eldest sister, Malia, to join the rest of the Summers women in the dining room. Gwenlyn performed the blood bond, and once again, I watched warily as free will was returned to one of my family members. It was a relief, as we all came together for a group hug, to realize that
this was the start of fighting back. From here on out, it would be simple to link the rest of the coven, as long as everything went according to plan.
“We should split up,” Malia suggested right away, massaging her temples as if Dominic’s influence still lingered there. “That way, we can get the rest of the coven linked together much faster.”
“I agree,” I said, “but I also think that we need to get moving on a plan to get our power back from Dominic.”
“I assume you have an idea?” my mother asked, her shrewd gaze lingering upon the subtle glow of my new tattoos. “Witches aren’t usually marked with ancient runes for nothing.”
I crossed my arms, too aware of how every witch in the room now seemed intent on examining the markings. “I met Dorothy Summers in the otherworld,” I admitted. A collective gasp went around the room, which I ignored to plunge deeper into my story. “She told me that the root of our power is housed in the yew tree, which we kind of already knew. But she also told me that in order to reclaim our power from Dominic, we need to destroy the yew tree. The destruction of the tree—”
“Will strip Dominic of the power and distribute it amongst the coven,” Cassandra finished for me.
“You knew that already?” I asked in disbelief.
“It’s a piece of knowledge that is passed down from coven leader to coven leader,” she explained. “Other than that, it’s not often shared. How do you plan on distracting Dominic long enough to destroy the tree?”
“We need intel,” said Gwenlyn before I could answer. “Dominic’s gone down the rabbit hole, guys. He’s lost it. From what I saw last time at the mayor’s house, he’s planning something big, and you know it won’t be easy on the coven. I vote that Morgan and I spy on Dominic while you three link the rest of the coven. Two birds, one stone.”
“Why do you get to go with Morgan?” Laurel asked.
“Because I’ve been to the mayor’s house once already,” said Gwenlyn. “I know how to get in. Once we find out what Dominic’s planning and the coven is free, we can move on to getting the original power back.”
“Then we can kick Dominic to the curb,” I added.
“And how are we supposed to get rid of his army of ghosts?” asked Karma, exchanging a worried look with Cassandra and Malia. “They’re already dead. We can’t exorcise a whole battalion, not to mention these demons you’ve told us about.”
“I have a way to put them down,” I said, and I pulled the pistol from its place in my waistband to present it to my sister and mother. The barrel lit up again at my touch, as did the ancient runes on my arms. The witches, except Gwenlyn, all took hasty steps away from me, staring in awe at the weapon. “I got it from a lord of the otherworld,” I explained. “It’s the only thing that will send the ghosts and demons back for good.”
“Is it safe?” asked Malia.
I shrugged. “No idea, but it seems to work. I shot Ronan with it earlier. He basically evaporated.”
Cassandra extended a hand as if to take the gun from me, but she withdrew at the last second. “It’s settled then,” she said. “We’ll link the coven. You two scout out Dominic. We’ll meet back here.”
Karma, Malia, and Laurel headed for the front door—the rest of the coven lived nearby, in various houses in the neighborhood—but as Cassandra made to follow them, I held her back.
“Mom,” I said, keeping my voice low so that my sisters wouldn’t overhear. “There’s something else.”
“Yes?”
“Dorothy said that once we destroyed the tree, a new coven leader would need to be elected.”
My mother raised an eyebrow. There was no beating around the bush with her. “And that leader is to be you, I presume?”
I nodded.
Cassandra inclined her head in recognition. “I’m aware of this part of the ritual as well. Don’t worry about the transference of power now, Morgan. We’ll address it when the time comes. But remember, I always intended for you to become the leader of this coven.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to say that there had to be some other way to complete the ritual, but Cassandra whisked herself away, chaperoning my sisters into the night. I looked at Gwenlyn then gestured to the door. “Lead the way, boss.”
I had never been to the mayor’s house before. It wasn’t a mansion by any definition, but it was easily one of the grandest homes in Yew Hollow. Large columns flanked either side of its oakwood double doors, and a beautiful terra cotta terrace circled the second floor. This, according to Gwenlyn, was our way in.
“Dominic only placed protection wards on the first floor,” she explained as we crept through the shrubbery in the backyard. “I guess he didn’t think anyone would be able to get up to the second level, but there’s a giant oak tree right by the edge of the balcony. Idiot.”
The tree itself soon came into view. Sure enough, it soared right up to the balcony, its lower branches easily reachable. Gwen glanced up at the windows of the house to make sure no one was looking out of them and then darted across the yard, sliding into the shadows beneath the large tree. I followed suit. The tree was the perfect cover. I could barely make Gwenlyn out in the darkness as she pulled herself up to the first branch and started climbing.
Small twigs and broken leaves pattered down as Gwenlyn made her way up, so I kept my head ducked as I scaled the tree. It was a long way up, and my shoulders burned with the effort, but soon enough, the railing of the terrace was only a hand's breadth away. Gwenlyn had already made it onto the balcony, so she reached out a hand to steady me as I swung one leg over the railing.
“Nice,” she whispered, when both of my feet were on solid ground again. “Over here.”
The terrace was being renovated, and towering stacks of new terra cotta tiles had been piled up along the side of the house. We edged around these, taking care not to trip over the crumbling, cracked tiles that poked up from the balcony, and inched toward the first window. Gwenlyn peered inside, gave me the thumbs up, and we rushed past it together. The second window yielded a similar reaction. The view at the third window, however, in the center of the terrace, caused Gwenlyn to shrink away from it. She pressed a finger to her lips and pointed inside. My heart thundering, I switched places with her and glanced through the window.
I looked into a capacious, well-decorated bedroom adorned with an elegant canopied bed and an old-fashioned writing desk. Dominic sat at the desk, facing away from the window, his forehead cradled in his hands. On the bed, his mother and his sister lingered in stark contrast to the opulent linens. The state of them shocked me. Somehow, the inhuman pallor of their bilious green skin was even more disturbing to behold than that of the reanimated corpses in the cemetery. Their eyes were so deeply sunken in that they appeared black, and I could practically hear the chilling rattle of breath across their prominent rib cages and protuberant collar bones.
I swallowed back bile and glanced at Gwen. She nodded solemnly, confirming what was already evident. Dominic’s mother and sister were in no condition to be considered alive, and yet they were also far from dead. I thought back to when Dominic had first freed them from the otherworld. They had looked healthy enough, despite having been dead for several years, but in the time since then, to say that both women had taken a turn for the worse was a massive understatement.
“They look even more terrible than the last time I saw them,” Gwenlyn whispered in a voice so quiet that it was almost swept away by the light breeze. “Must be because you’ve returned to earth.”
“Too bad they won’t just wither away on their own then,” I muttered back.
As a silvery ghost entered the room, I retreated slightly from the window, scared to draw attention to our position on the terrace. Muted conversation met my ears as Dominic and the ghost—a slender, middle-aged man that I didn’t recognize—spoke to one another. Suppressing the blue light of my witchcraft, I spoke the Latin for an eavesdropping spell, and the ghost’s gruff baritone echoed out to the terrace as if the window was wi
de open.
“...haven’t seen hide nor hair of him ever since,” the ghost was saying.
Dominic slammed his fist down on the writing desk. “What’s the point of having you idiots around if you can’t even keep track of one another? Find Ronan, you halfwit. He can’t have gone far, and he’s the only one of you morons who wants to shed the coven’s blood as much as I do. I need him.”
“Yes, sir.”
The ghost made to leave the room, but Dominic called out again. “Wait,” he said, standing up from the writing desk. “Have you checked on the coven recently?”
“No, sir,” said the ghost. “We were under the impression that there was no need to do so. Your trance is still in effect, is it not?”
When Dominic turned to his mother and sister, I saw his face for the first time since he had unwittingly sent me to the otherworld. It was a travesty of his previous pulchritude. Not long ago, Dominic’s piercing blue eyes and confident smile could’ve entranced a whole room of women with just one look. Now, he looked more like a demon in disguise as a human. His cheekbones had hollowed out, and dark shadows encircled his eyes. He seemed thinner, less muscled, as if he had lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. I wrenched my gaze away from Dominic—his haggard appearance was sure to haunt my nightmares—and focused on the ghost instead.
“As far as I know, it is,” Dominic replied. He lightly caressed his sister’s hair, and several long strands of it came away in his hand. He balled it up in his fist. “They shouldn’t be like this, damn it!” He spun around to address the ghost again. “Something’s happened, I know it has. They were still walking just hours ago. Now they won’t even blink.”
The ghost watched silently as Dominic snapped his fingers in front of his mother’s face. She made no indication that he even stood before her.
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