House of Ivy & Sorrow

by kindle@abovethetreeline. com

  I laugh. “So much for us not knowing anything about our fathers.”

  “It’s a natural curiosity.”

  “Yeah.” I stare at her chandelier, all crystal and pearl, trying to focus as much as possible on this moment. “So I’m part Italian. That’s cool.”

  “I’ll hang on, for you.” Nana’s hand goes limp in mine, and even though I know she fell asleep it feels like preparation for what’s to come.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  When everyone is sleeping, I sneak down to the apothecary. The house threatens to betray me at each creak, but I manage to get there without waking anyone up. Sitting in Nana’s chair, it hits me—this could be my place soon unless I do something. Something possibly desperate. I shake it off, searching the drawers for the right ink and parchment. Grabbing a quill, I dip it in the enchanted purple liquid and write:

  We need to talk.

  I’m surprised how quickly a message appears underneath my messy line.

  Is this who I think it is?

  Under the magic willow tree.

  That’s barely within our protective barriers. If Levi doesn’t intend to harm me, he’ll be able to get there like he got in last time. And more importantly, anyone at his house who might see this message won’t.

  See you soon.

  My heart pounds as I slide on a sweater and creep out the front door. Willow’s End is pitch-black at night, save a few lamps that mark street corners. I avoid the light, knowing this path by heart. I walk under my favorite willow, soaking in the faint magic as I do. Levi is already there, leaning on the thick trunk. He has his hands in his pockets, like it’s totally normal to be out in the middle of the night with shadows dancing all around him.

  He smiles when he sees me. “How’s Gwen?”

  “None of your business.” I stay a good distance back, the memories of that kiss begging me to run. If I get Cursed, it really is over.

  His grin disappears. “I should have known you’d be afraid of me after that.”

  “More like disgusted.”

  “Was it that bad? Because at one point I could have sworn you were into it.”

  My cheeks burn, not a single comeback on my tongue.

  “If I were a regular guy . . .” He folds his arms, smug. “I have a feeling you’d like me.”

  I shake my head. “You aren’t a regular guy, so what does it matter?”

  He doesn’t have to say anything, because I can see it all over his face. There’s no denying he wants me, and not just my magic, though I’m sure that’s a big part of it. “Doesn’t seem like regular guys interest you, do they?”

  My heart twists at the thought of Winn, so badly that I have to put my hand to my chest. “Look, I didn’t call you here to fight. I want answers, and I know you have them.”

  “And why would I give them to you?”

  “Because . . .” I search for something, but what incentive does he have? He doesn’t have to help me, and doing so would probably get him in big trouble long-term. But there is one thing. “I know you want him destroyed as much as I do, Levi Anderson. You want to avenge your mother’s death—you want to kill your own father.”

  I kind of can’t blame him, but it’s still creepy.

  His eyes go wide. “How . . . ?”

  “You really thought I’d need you to find out? Jeff Anderson was my dad’s roommate in college, and a Shadow. You’re the spitting image of him.”

  “Shit.” He kicks the ground.

  “But I don’t understand it all, and I want to.” I take a few steps closer. “Please, Levi, tell me why he’d kill a Black, if they are the ones using you. Why would he go to such lengths to hunt the Hemlocks down and never stop?”

  Levi’s face softens slightly. “My dad is the worst of our kind—a Shadow without a leash, a madman completely lost to the Consumption. My grandmother, who is also Consumed, really likes him because he’s willing to do what a lot of us won’t. She and some of the other Blacks hate witching families that are more powerful than them.”

  “Why do they think we’re so powerful? There are only two of us. The Blacks are a massive family in comparison to the Hemlocks.”

  “Numbers don’t matter as much as you’d think. Having used Black magic and yours . . .” He bites his lip, seeming embarrassed. “Let’s just say you have more power in your little finger than any in-control Black witch. You’re like ten of them.”

  “I thought the only difference in magic was location,” I whisper, the idea of me being so powerful hard to wrap my head around.

  He shakes his head. “Different bloodlines hold different magical strengths. Of course, the Blacks are the only ones who know that, since they have Shadows to tell them. The Yarrows, Nightshades, and Hemlocks are the top of the hit list—since your magic is the best.”

  It sounds so petty, and yet it somehow doesn’t surprise me. “So they’ve been trying to get rid of us because . . . they’re jealous?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I grit my teeth. Oh, Nana will be pissed when she hears about this. “But what about your mother? Why would he kill her, then?”

  “Yeah, uh . . .” He scratches the back of his head. “She was protecting your mom.”

  “What?”

  He lets out a tired sigh. “My mom made it so I’m the only who can read her history. She wrote a lot of stuff that probably would’ve gotten her killed even sooner. She was assigned as my dad’s steward—the witch who decides when a Shadow is ready to have magic. The first witch we Curse. Mom knew my dad was bad news from the second she met him. Like every steward and Shadow, they were ten years old when my grandmother assigned them to hunt the Hemlocks.”

  I gasp, remembering Mom’s first memory of Stacia. They were probably about that age. Could that have been why Stacia was crying? Why she told my mom they shouldn’t be friends? “Their whole friendship was a lie.”

  “No. It wasn’t.” Levi’s glare is defensive, and I realize I’m insulting his mother. “She didn’t think it was right—she wanted to protect Carmina. She did for a long time by refusing to give my father magic, even though it pissed off my grandmother. He was ravenous for power, and she knew he’d have no control once he had even the smallest taste.”

  I venture closer to Levi, leaning on the tree with him. “He didn’t just take it?”

  “It would have been hard. The first time . . .” He cringes. “We’re only born with enough magic to sustain us. If we use it up without having a steward, we’re screwed. He could have tried, but my mom would have overpowered him. And my mom spent most of her time traveling, so her mother couldn’t make her accept my dad through a spell.”

  “So that’s why he didn’t look magical when my mom met him,” I say, though my thoughts are all on Winn. This explains way more than I’d like it to.

  “Yup. By the time they were in San Francisco he was desperate and my grandmother was practically hunting my mom down. My father wanted to follow orders, but he was pretty much a normal person without his steward giving him magic. Grandma finally gave up on her daughter and told him to risk everything to Curse Carmina without my mom’s help. Since Carmina didn’t know what he was, he could have taken her off guard and used what little he had to do it.”

  I wrap my arms around myself, pain surging through me. “So Stacia gave in, on the condition that he didn’t touch my mom.”

  Levi nods, his eyes cold. “And like she guessed, he didn’t hold back in taking magic from her. She died because of his greed, but then he had enough to go after Carmina. Of course, my grandmother was happy to have her useless daughter out of the picture. It would have ended like this, either way, with both of them dead.”

  Silence swallows everything as Levi and I watch the willow branches sway in the light breeze. I don’t want to ask him, of all people, and yet I have to know. I for
ce the words out. “So is Winn . . . like you?”

  He purses his lips, and it feels like he’s wrestling himself over what to say. “I really want to lie and say he is, because I know you’ll leave him over it. But truthfully, I’m not sure, and I’ll admit I’m curious about it.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Shadows can recognize each other, even if they haven’t taken in magic yet. I’m sure I felt that when I met him, but at the same time he didn’t appear to recognize it in me. At least not in the right way—he sees me as a threat, not someone he shares an identity with.

  “On top of that, he doesn’t seem to need magic like us. I crave it, like always being hungry. He doesn’t seem to be bothered in the least by all that power coursing through you.” Levi sighs, looking at me like I cause him physical pain. “And it’s not like there are more than a couple dozen of us. I thought I knew all the Shadows. It doesn’t make sense.”

  I gulp, not wanting to say it out loud. “He lives in my great-great-aunt Fanny’s house. I found a history in his attic, hidden in a magical compartment. It belonged to Cordelia Black.”

  He actually looks surprised by this. “Really?”

  “Yeah, but like you said, things don’t seem to be adding up. I think he knows something, but he’s trying to hide it. And if he is like you, he’s had plenty of opportunities to Curse me if he wanted. Why prolong it?”

  “Good question. This is definitely weird. I’m not aware of any Blacks living around here either.” He looks at me, his smirk in place. “Do you want me to investigate?”

  “Would you?” I don’t like the idea of being in his debt even more, but I have to know whether I can trust Winn or not. Because even after everything I’ve discovered, my heart won’t let him go without a fight.

  “Sure. I do have a nice side, you know.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

  We both laugh, and in that moment I realize Levi and I have always been after the same things. He wants this to stop as much as I do.

  “I’m sorry, for everything,” I say.

  “Me too.” He gives me this look that sets my face on fire. “You know, I hated your mom for so long. You too, of course. In my mother’s history, she said that Carmina wasn’t sunshine—she was the sun. Everything couldn’t help but orbit around her, but nobody minded because she warmed them all up. I think I’m beginning to understand why she felt that way.”

  I can’t stop staring at my ratty old tennis shoes. “So now that we kind of understand each other, how do we stop him?”

  “That is a complicated question,” he says. “Legend goes that an ancient Black witch fell in love, and she told the man what she was. He asked to share her power, and she was so blind that she did it. But it was never enough; he found a way to take magic from her. He passed on that ability, just like witches pass on theirs.”

  “I can’t believe . . .” It’s horrible, stupid beyond insane. “And no one tried to stop him?”

  “That’s the thing. Shadows can store a lot more magic than you can; we need to since we can’t take it from the ground. The Blacks tried to stop him, but he’d Curse them and take their magic before they even had a chance, until he had so much no one could stop him. Compromises were made to satiate him until he died from Consumption, but he had seven sons. The Blacks became their stewards and remain so—they allow us to use them as payment for their mistake.

  “Most of us don’t enjoy being what we are and only use our steward’s magic, but there are always a few like my dad out there. Consumed, insatiable, pretty much pure evil. The Blacks spend a lot of time trying to hide all this, but they can’t always control all their family members or their creations.”

  It feels like he’s rambling, like he’s avoiding the real answer. “Are you saying you don’t know how to beat him?”

  “I do.” He gulps. “I’m just giving you some background so you know how big a job this will be. He’s been sucking up all your grandmother’s magic—he has so much I can hardly stand to be in the same place as him—and he plans to use it to break through your house’s barriers so my grandmother can have it. You? He wants to keep you for a long time. He’s gotten quite a taste for Hemlock magic, so you’ll get to be his pet for as long as you survive.”

  I shudder. The thought of his father leeching off me is too much to bear. “How are we supposed to beat him if he has a huge store of my nana’s magic? She’s majorly powerful, Levi, which means he’s . . . godly.”

  He chews his lip, much like Kat does. “There’s only one way.”

  “Which is?”

  His eyes meet mine, and suddenly I don’t like where this is going at all. “A few kisses won’t do it. I’d need a lot more than that. Like a year’s worth of kissing, which we don’t exactly have time for. So . . .”

  I take a few steps back. “Are you saying the only way to beat him is to Curse me?”

  “You saw what I did with your power at the hospital, and that was using the little you had at the time. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think we could do it. Your magic is incredible and truly unique. I could—”

  “I’m such an idiot!” I kick the ground, though maybe I should have kicked him where it hurts. “It’s what you’ve wanted all along! That’s your big plan, isn’t it? Get your dad out of the way so you can have my power instead.”

  “No! All I want is to stop him.” He tries to grab me, but I shock his hand. “Damn it, Jo! I would never let you die because of it. I would . . . I would always take care of you. I would be indebted to you forever. How many times do I have to say that I don’t want to hurt you?”

  “A million, at least. What makes you think I’d ever say yes?”

  His face hardens. “Because you know I have the skill to get the job done.”

  “No offense, but if that’s your only plan I’d rather figure out how to kill your father myself.”

  “You’ll fail.” His jaw sets, and I can feel him fighting to stay still. “You’re just going to let your grandma die?”

  “Charming. I’m so convinced now.” I turn, heading back toward my house. Maybe I’m walking away from my big chance to fix things, but this can’t be the right path. I should have listened to Nana—Levi might have answers, but they come at too heavy a price. There has to be something else, and I will find it.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Three days later, I pace the apothecary floor in a fit of nerves. Gwen texted me an hour ago, saying her parents are finally sure she’s not dying, so she’s on her way over. I don’t know why I’m so jittery, but I can’t help myself. Promise to Kat or not, I shouldn’t be doing this. But then again, Nana and I have practically murdered every witching tradition in the last few weeks, so why not add to the pile?

  “For the love, Jo!” Maggie says. “I’ve had two liters of Mountain Dew and you’re still beating me on the hyper scale. Sit down!”

  “Gwen will be fine,” Kat adds. “In fact, she’ll probably be ecstatic.”

  “Still, she has no clue what she’s getting into.”

  A loud bang sounds from the hallway, and in walk Tessa and Prudence. Just in time. Maggie doesn’t quite have the skill level to perform a binding, and I have to participate, so I asked them to help.

  Tessa wraps me in a hug, “How is Dorothea?”

  “Not good,” I say, pushing back the lump in my throat. “But she would love to see you, I’m sure.”

  She offers a tight smile. “We’ll visit her after we help with your friend.”

  Prudence eyes Kat. “Are you sure you want to bring more outsiders into this? With your father and Katherine in the house, it seems you’ve forgotten the old ways.”

  I tip my chin up. “And since when is the head of house questioned, oh rule keeper?”

  Her eyes narrow.

  “Considering
the circumstances, Pru, I need to protect the people closest to me as best I can. Gwen almost died because of this man—the charms and enchantments I gave her weren’t enough. I won’t let it happen again.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Fair enough. Where’s the spell book?”

  “Here.” I turn the heavy, old book so she can see. A flicker of doubt runs through me. It’s a hard spell—maybe they won’t be able to do it either.

  Pru scans the page, then looks back to me. “You have what we need?”

  “Yeah. But be careful with the golden eagle tears; there aren’t enough for mistakes.”

  “There won’t be any.” She gives me the crustiest glare, but I’m not offended. Pru is Pru. She’s always been the one who is dead serious about everything. I’m half tempted to pull out a plastic snake to lighten things up.

  The doorbell rings. “That should be her.” I head for the door, but am taken aback when the blond hair I see isn’t Gwen’s. “Winn.”

  “Hey.” He barely looks at me before his eyes find the ground. “Your phone . . . seems to be broken. Are you busy? I wanted to talk to you about the other day.”

  I bite my lip, feeling like the worst person alive. He might have no clue why I haven’t answered his calls, and I still can’t face him. “Actually . . .”

  He tries not to frown, but it doesn’t work very well. “So you’re avoiding me.”

  “No!” I can tell he sees my lie, but what else can I do right now? I have a whole gaggle of witches to tend to. “It’s just that Gwen is about to get here; otherwise I would.”

  “Right. Of course. She comes first.” He nods too much, which sends up all sorts of warning flags. I’ve really hurt him. He needs me to be there for him, and I don’t know how to do that anymore.

  “I’m so sorry, Winn. Things have been crazy since we were up in your attic. I’ve been setting everything up for Gwen. Kat, Maggie, and I had this slumber party all planned out. You know, trying to make it feel kind of normal for her.”