by Nicole Maggi
“Please.” Nerina pulled her shawl off and flung it on the back of the armchair. “If I followed that rule, I’d be a virgin. Can you imagine being celibate for nearly five hundred years? No, thank you.”
The laughter that bubbled up inside me was so unexpected it almost knocked me off my feet. I doubled over, a stitch in my side, gasping for breath. When I straightened, Nerina was perched on the arm of the chair, her face red with laughter too. It took several minutes for both of us to calm down. When we did, Nerina looked at me. “I don’t want to lecture you. I want to show you that there are many paths in life—not just the one you’ve chosen to go down. You have options.” She stood up. “But what I really want to show you today is this.”
Nerina knelt on the plush rug in front of the coffee table. I fell to my knees beside her. For an instant, I flashed back to the last time I was in church, how much I hated being told how to live. I looked sideways at Nerina. I couldn’t imagine a less priest-like person.
Nerina placed her hands on the coffee table. Only then did I see it—a huge, ancient book. It was bound in cracked leather with raised gold lettering that I tried to read, but it was in a language I didn’t know. “What is that?”
“One of the only things I was able to save,” Nerina whispered, “from the attack on my home in Friuli.” She stroked the cover with such gentleness that I felt I should leave them alone.
The cover creaked when she opened it, and when she turned the pages, they seemed to speak in hushed tones. I could practically feel the magic coming from the book. “Is there a spell inside that can break into the room?”
“Yes.” Nerina stopped turning the pages and slid the book slightly to me. “This one.”
I bent over the coffee table. The letters on the page were handwritten in centuries-old ink, the corners illuminated in gold and red. “Is that Italian?”
Nerina shook her head. “Latin.”
Of course. A dead language. “How the hell am I supposed to read it?”
“You aren’t.” She grabbed my wrist and brought my hand to the book, hovering my palm just above the page. “You feel it.”
The instant she brought my flesh in contact with the book, it felt like cold electricity shuddered through me. I tried to pull away, but the book wanted me. I could feel its desire, how it needed to give me its knowledge, how it longed for someone to understand it. I clutched at the table with my other hand. “Wha—what is that?”
“It’s magic.” Nerina was smiling, her eyes dancing. “Most people would touch those pages and feel nothing. “But you—I knew you were different.”
The book’s power swept over me—God, it was like an orgasm. I curled my fingers into a fist and drew it back. I swore I heard the book sob, as if it missed me. And I missed it too with a gnawing separation in my gut. I squirmed on the rug and pushed back from the table. “I have to go.”
“No, you don’t.” Nerina laid her hand on my elbow. I stilled. “Don’t run from what you can’t control. You are more powerful than you know. Embrace that.”
I swallowed hard and searched her face. For what, I didn’t know. I just knew I felt pulled in two directions. I wanted more of what the book had to offer, what Nerina had to offer, and yet I wanted to walk out of here, text Josh, and not have to think about any of this. “I don’t know if I’m ready to do this.”
“Ready?” Nerina shook her head. “What is ready? Do you think I was ready when I was Called? When I became a Benandante? Or when I became immortal? Do you think I was ready to live forever?” She leaned toward me. “Were you ready when you were Called? Do you think Alessia was?” She shook her head. “No one is ever ready for the big moments in life, Bree. That’s not what’s important. What’s important is the courage with which we face what we aren’t ready for.” One corner of her lip curled up. “What is the saying? ‘Courage is not the absence of fear. It is—’”
“‘Feeling the fear and doing it anyway,’” I finished for her.
We stared at each other for a long moment.
I looked down at the book. Slowly, I raised a hand and lowered it onto the book, pressed my palm flat against the thick paper. I let the magic swirl through me. “What do I need to do?”
“This spell needs two people to perform it,” Nerina said. “One of them must be a Benandante.” She placed a hand next to mine. I had a brief, strange memory of pressing my palm flat like this next to Jonah’s and tracing them in fourth-grade art class. I shook my head, and the memory danced away. Nerina tilted her head toward mine. “You and I are going to learn this spell and break into that room. Together.”
Chapter Fourteen
The Embrace
Alessia
Moonlight spread out across the Waterfall, thin and wavering in its reflection on the water. I flew in slow circles above the pool, watching my reflection below. My wings itched to take me beyond the perimeter of the site, but Heath was prowling outside the barrier. I had to remain inside.
I knew why he had volunteered to take the outside watch. He was worried Jonah would be on Malandanti patrol and I would get distracted.
He wasn’t wrong.
Jonah had taken to skipping classes again, so I barely saw him at school. There were no more surreptitious notes in French class or sidelong glances in biology. I shrugged it off to Jenny and told Heath, “Of course not,” when he asked me if I’d spoken to Jonah.
But I needed to see him, like I needed to breathe. I knew I shouldn’t want to. I hated him with every fiber of my Falcon’s being. But the Alessia in me . . . She was a different story.
And so, every night I was on patrol, I asked to sweep the perimeter, hoping to catch a glimpse of his other self. Even though I knew if I did see him, it would hurt worse than any mage’s spell.
Apparently Heath had caught on. I’ll take the outside watch, he told me when we reached the Waterfall that night.
I can do it, I replied. I don’t mind. As if I were martyring myself.
I know you don’t mind. Heath pranced down the rocks, hugging the edge of the magical barrier. Since you seem to be so keen on it lately.
He was on to me. Fine, whatever. And now I was stuck inside the barrier, like a figure inside a snow globe.
I dipped just inches above the water. I would never touch it deliberately; I didn’t need to see the future. Not the version the water showed me, anyway.
Low growling broke the stillness. I swerved toward the sound. Just beyond the shimmering veil that protected me, the Panther stood in the shadows, his green eyes glowing. A sound escaped me, a strange twitter I’d never made before. I fluttered backwards and forwards, drawn by those eyes but bound by my duty.
A loud bark snapped whatever thread had spun between me and Jonah. Stay there, Heath commanded. He bounded across the banks of the pool. Jonah sprang out of the shadows, his eyes wide as they shifted between me and the White Wolf. For a moment, he was frozen as Heath rounded on him. They faced off with each other, black and white, like the yin and the yang. Heath moved closer to Jonah.
Don’t! I couldn’t help it; the word escaped me before I could stop it.
Stay where you are, Alessia.
Don’t hurt him. I flew right up to the edge of the magic, the tips of my feathers brushing the mist.
Heath swung his head toward me, his blue eyes icy. Don’t you dare move, Alessia. Don’t you dare.
Switch with me.
What?
Switch with me. Let me deal with him.
You’ll let him go.
And you’ll kill him. Which one of us is right?
I won’t— Heath’s eyes narrowed at me.
I held my breath.
Quick, before I change my mind. He leapt into the mist at the same time I dove outside of it.
At the top of the Waterfall, Jonah turned, his sleek body so black that I didn’t know where he ended and the darkness began. His Clan was itching for a kill, but I knew I was safe. If I hadn’t taken Heath’s place, I wasn’t so sure he’d
be safe.
I flew up over the Waterfall, leveling out at the creek that ran into it. Jonah chased me, splashing down off the rocks and into the water. I drew him into the forest, so deep I could no longer see the glittering veil that protected the site. I kept my mind open in case Heath needed me to return, but every other ounce of me was focused on the Panther.
At the base of a tall pine tree, Jonah stopped, his ebony coat shiny with sweat, his sides heaving. I landed on a branch several feet above his head, showering needles onto the ground. Jonah reared up onto his back legs and pressed his front paws against the tree trunk. He growled, a guttural sound that I felt in my belly. I arched my gaze down to him. He scraped the bark and growled again.
He was calling me.
I floated down one branch closer to him.
He dropped to all fours and paced beneath my perch. Every time he changed direction, he looked up at me, his green eyes deep as the forest in spring.
I lowered down one more branch.
He threw his head back and keened to the sky. My blood froze.
I opened my wings and let the wind carry me all the way to the ground. Jonah backed up to the base of the tree and lay on the ground. I picked my way over to him, each step slow and deliberate. When I was within a few inches of him, he opened his front paws. It was not a threat. It was an invitation.
I came within the circle of his paws and furled my wings around my body. He rested his head against my back. Our auras shifted to envelop both of us, silver and blue meshing into one. Something flickered in my mind, as though his own emotions were entwined with mine, as though his love for me could break through the barrier that kept us from communicating with each other. If someone were to see us—
I closed my eyes. However screwed up it was, I was in the arms of the boy I loved, and nothing else mattered.
Hours later, Heath and I joined each other again when the Eagle and the Stag took over patrol. I soared high above the snow-tipped trees, hoping my distance would give him a hint that I didn’t want to talk.
No such luck. Where were you all night?
Keeping Jo—the Panther away from the Waterfall. Doing my job.
Hmmph. I could feel his disapproval in every corner of my brain. I tried to turn off my thoughts, but he broke through before I could shut down. Alessia, you need to be very, very careful.
I know that—
I don’t think you do. Deep down, I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is.
I plunged through branches at a dizzying speed until I was right above him. How can you possibly say that to me? I watched the Lynx die. I know what kind of danger we’re in.
Then why did you go chasing him? Heath slowed and raised his long white snout to me. You’re playing with fire. I warned you that I will go to the Clan with his identity—
Cold leaked through me. Are you going to?
Heath tossed his head, his snowy fur mussed by the wind. Yes. I’m going to tell Nerina.
Ha. She already knows.
He slid to a stop and let out a short bark. What?
I told her weeks ago. I circled Heath’s head. She was actually pretty understanding.
I can’t believe you did that.
Why not? I had to talk to someone about it, and you made it clear the subject was off-limits. I spun, my razor-sharp gaze on Heath. She understands what it’s like to be in love. Not like you—
Heath lunged at me so fast he almost got a mouthful of feathers. I dodged backwards just in time, my wings clumsy with shock. His eyes were like icicles.
What the hell, Heath?
How dare you. How dare you! He shouted so loudly in my head that it hurt.
I blinked at him, torn between scratching his eyes out and getting the hell out of there. I chose the latter. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but I’m going home. Good night. I glided away, suddenly exhausted. It was inching toward dawn, and I had to get up in a few hours.
Wait. Alessia, please wait.
I didn’t turn, but I slowed enough that he could catch up with me. When he was directly below me, I looked at him.
He glanced up, then back at the ground again. He padded to a stop and drooped his head. You can’t imagine what it’s like. Being around her all the time and not able to be with her.
I landed hard next to him, kicking up dirt and twigs. Are you even listening to yourself? You just described my entire life.
Heath’s sides heaved, his breath a white mist in the cold air. Finally, he lowered his head. Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.
I don’t get it. I hopped a little closer to him. You’re a Benandante. She’s a Benandante. Seems like the perfect arrangement.
Except that she’s immortal, and I’m not.
So?
So . . . someday I’m going to grow old and die, and she’s not.
It didn’t seem like that big of a problem to me. But as I really thought about it, really put myself in that situation, I stilled. That would suck. Well and truly suck. But couldn’t you at least be together for the present?
Heath started walking. I lifted off the ground and floated next to him, letting the wind keep me aloft. Yes, we could have. But the Concilio—they didn’t think that was such a good idea.
I don’t see how that’s really any of their business.
Heath snorted again. I said the exact same thing. But Nerina— You have to understand. The Concilio is her family.
Oh, I understood. La famiglia. It was the most important thing to an Italian. You do not go against the family. My mother had drilled that into me since I was old enough to speak. If Nerina’s family told her to break up with Heath, she would obey. I dipped and rose next to Heath as he walked. That’s why they sent you here, isn’t it? To separate you and Nerina?
Yes. His steps were heavy, his paws covered in mud. They wouldn’t even let me communicate with her when I got here.
You must really hate me. I glided higher, near the middle branches of the trees. For being the reason you had to leave.
Oh, Alessia. Heath shook himself, as though he were shedding a cloak, and bounded over to me. I don’t hate you. And they would’ve come up with any reason to get me out of there. It wasn’t about you.
I could see the stone wall up ahead. I swung around and faced Heath fully. So you get it now? You get what I’m going through with Jonah?
Heath met my gaze calmly. The deep blue of his eyes seemed to hold me, as if I were trapped in frozen water.
Alessia, I’ve always gotten what you’re going through with Jonah. That’s why I’m telling you to be careful. Because I know just how much it will damage you if you’re not.
Chapter Fifteen
Mission Impossible, Interrupted
Bree
I stood in front of my closet in my bra and panties, clothes strewn on the floor all around me. What the hell did one wear to a break-in? I would kill for that catsuit I’d seen at the naughty shop in Bridgeport before we’d left Connecticut. I knew I should’ve bought it. It would have come in handy right about now.
Not to mention it was like twenty below outside. I needed something sleek and slinky but warm. I should’ve listened to my mother when she tried to buy me long underwear.
I glanced at the clock. After eight. Shit. I had to hurry. I dug out my dark-wash skinny jeans, tucked them into my knee-high black boots, and pulled a charcoal-grey turtleneck over my head. Not exactly Catwoman, but it would have to work.
I inched my door open and stuck my head out into the hallway. Loud bangs rang up from downstairs. My fingers curled on the door frame, scratching the wood. Mom was having a manic fit in the kitchen. Pots crashed against each other as she experimented with making chocolate. I’d seen an arsenal of strange materials laid out on the counter earlier. I could picture her now, hair flying, face spotted with liquid chocolate. Well, this was one night when her crazy obsession with perfection would work to my advantage.
I slipped out into the hall and took one last look at my room
. I had my music on low, the lights off except the dim lamp on the nightstand . . . and the pièce de résistance, the Bodyform pillow that really looked like a body in my bed. I’d perfected the art of arranging pillows to look like me years ago.
When we lived in a house in California that was all on one floor, it had been a cinch to sneak out. This house, not so much. The stairs creaked, and you had to pass through the wide-open expanse of the kitchen and living room to get to the front door. I’d have to get through the kitchen to make it out the back door now. There was a chance my mother would be too busy playing mad chocolate scientist, but I wasn’t going to risk it. That left a second-floor escape. There was only one, out the bathroom that Jonah and I shared. You had to climb out onto the porch roof and then shimmy down a tree. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
I gazelle-leapt across the hallway to the bathroom, but before I could disappear inside, Jonah’s door opened. I turned, my heart thudding as if I’d been caught in the backseat with a boy. “What’s up, Jonah?”
“Nothing.” He narrowed his eyes at my outfit. “Are you going out?”
I shrugged. My outer body felt disconnected from my insides. “Yeah, I’m—meeting Josh.”
“Seriously? That jackass?” His lip curled. “You can do a lot better than him.”
“And your awesome track record in relationships qualifies you to give me advice . . . how?” I sidestepped into the bathroom, the door frame splitting my vision. I could see only half of him, the other half wavering in and out of sight. I wondered, did that other half even exist?
Jonah snorted. “Like you’ve never given me advice without being asked for it.”
“Night, Jonah.”
“Come on, Bree.” He stepped into the hallway. Now I could see all of him. Whole. Human. The Panther lay hidden, dormant, somewhere inside. I shook my head slightly; I didn’t want to be reminded of that other half of him. Not tonight. Not when I was setting out on a mission to destroy it.