by Nicole Maggi
I broke the surface and soared, water raining down from my feathers. And that meant . . .
I was free.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Family Comes in Many Shapes and Sizes
Bree
The magic coursing through me was stronger than anything I’d ever felt, stronger than the Olive Grove had been when I’d stood on that hallowed ground. All around me, the Benandanti celebrated, their cheers like champagne bottles popping open in my head. But I couldn’t rest. Not yet.
Alessia. Jonah. Come on.
Her wings dripping with water, Alessia swooped over my head. What? Where?
There is no way in hell I’m letting the Rabbit and Pratt Webster get off scot-free. I clambered out of the stream, congratulating myself for choosing my over-the-knee boots for our let’s-blow-the-Malandanti-off-the-face-of-the-earth battle. Somehow I’d sensed that I’d wind up in the water at some point, and boy did I call that one. I’ll bet good money they’re going to hightail it out of here, and that’s not happening on my watch.
Jonah dashed up the rocks and met me on the bank at the top of the Waterfall. I know where that weasel lives, he said. Let’s go.
But before we could get one foot into the forest, Dario blocked our path, his scales flashing red and black in the blue light that dripped from the trees. The magic will work beyond the sites, he said. It will find its way into the world. Justice will be done.
Yeah, well, I don’t have the patience to wait for that, I said, planting my hands on my hips. Those two assholes killed my father.
And mine, said Alessia, swooping low so that she was right in Dario’s face.
It’s too personal. We can’t just hope that karma does its thing, I said. So you can either get out of our way or help us get there faster by giving me a ride.
The Dragon stared at us for a moment, then lowered his front legs so I could climb on his back. We rose high over the treetops and kept Jonah’s sleek white form in sight as we raced back toward the town. Far ahead on the horizon, the pink light of dawn stretched over Maine. It had been the longest night of my life, but one that would live in me forever.
This way, Jonah said and swerved off Main Street, down a side street not far from the school. All of the houses were dark, their occupants still sleeping, the whole town oblivious to what had been happening just beyond its edges. And hopefully would stay that way for a really long time to come. But one house, at the end of the road, was lit up like a freaking jack-o’-lantern, its windows blazing with artificial light.
Dirt kicked up from beneath Jonah’s paws as he ran down the driveway. Dario landed heavily, and I tumbled off his back. I can’t stay here, he said. Imagine what would happen if someone woke up and saw a dragon out his front window.
I would actually pay good money to see that, but yeah, not exactly the reason we were here. See you soon, I said and chased after Jonah, Alessia winging overhead.
Jonah didn’t even stop at the front door; he just crashed into it with such force that it blew off its hinges. He leapt over the fallen door and skidded to a halt in the foyer of the house. I climbed in after him and followed as he trotted straight to the back of the house. Frantic sounds of thuds and crashes, a machine whirring, and two people shouting at each other echoed out from the open door all the way at the end of the hall.
The moment we appeared in the doorway, all the noise stopped.
“You!” Pratt yelled and launched himself at Jonah.
Did he seriously think he could take on a massive wolf? Jonah had him pinned beneath his front paws in the blink of an eye.
I pushed past them, deeper into the room, my gaze fixed on the skinny, sweater-vested bastard behind him.
An industrial-sized shredder sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by towering boxes filled with all sorts of papers I was sure the FBI would love to get their hands on. So this was where all those documents had gone, the ones they’d smuggled out of the Guild, the absence of which was the only thing keeping Pratt out of prison. I stepped around the shredder and the boxes, and the Rabbit backed up against the wall. In my high-heeled boots, I was taller than him, and I could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that the magic still clung to me, still rose off my body in wisps. “Tell me,” I said, my voice just above a whisper, “where is your power now?”
He straightened his shoulders, as if he had anything left that he could use against me. “You don’t deserve the magic,” he spat. Saliva landed on the toe of my black boot.
I curled my lip. “I think the fact that I have it and you don’t would indicate that I do deserve it. More than you ever did.”
There was a small commotion behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Pratt scrambling to crawl across the floor. Alessia dove and hooked her talons into his ankles. Pratt yelped in pain, his upper body thrashing.
The Rabbit reached for me, his fingers itching for my throat, but before he could touch me, I flung my hand out. In one swoosh, he flew up to the ceiling and hung there, suspended by the ropes of Angel Falls magic I wound around him. Keeping one hand high, holding him in place, I pulled my cell phone out of the back pocket of my jeans. My thumb poised to dial, I looked up into his face. I saw the fear there, the deep knowledge of what the rest of his life was going to look like dawning in his eyes.
The line rang and clicked into connection. “Federal Bureau of Investigation, how may I direct your call?”
It might’ve been the ass-crack of morning, but apparently the FBI didn’t sleep. “I need the head of the investigation into the Guild. Tell them I have two key players in custody.”
The operator put me on hold, and for a minute we were all forced to listen to a really bad Muzak version of “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Then the line clicked again and a clipped, all-business-no-play voice said, “This is Agent Amelia Rosen. You’re calling in regard to the Guild investigation?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m standing here in a room with Pratt Webster, Head of Operations, and . . .” I trailed off and narrowed my eyes at the Rabbit. Covering my phone’s microphone with my thumb, I said, “What the hell is your name, anyway?”
For an instant, he looked defiant, like he was in any position to refuse me. I twisted the red ropes tighter, and a tendril of smoke touched his bare skin. “Jeremy Bush,” he gasped.
“Jeremy Bush,” I said into my phone.
There was a deep intake of breath on the other end. “Bush? You—have him?”
“I’m staring right at him.”
“Lady, I don’t know who you are, but you’re getting a medal.” I could hear the rustle of paper and a pen scratching across its surface. “We’ve been looking for that guy for weeks. Every time we got close, he disappeared.”
“Yeah, he used to be able to do that real well. Don’t worry, his disappearing days are over.” I twisted the ropes again, just for good measure. “Who is he, anyway?”
“We have no idea what his real title was,” Agent Rosen said, “but whenever there was a mess to be cleaned up, he was the one to do it. Usually with a lot of casualties on the side. Listen, where are you now?”
“Twin Willows, Maine.”
“Jesus, where the hell is that? Never mind. I’m chartering a plane as we speak. I can be there in a few hours. Can you secure them for that long?”
I looked back at Pratt. He’d resigned to his fate beneath Jonah and Alessia’s grasp, his hands clutched to his head. I swung my gaze up to Jeremy Bush, the Rabbit no longer. He gave me one last glare and turned his face to the wall.
“Oh, yeah,” I told Agent Rosen. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Three Weeks Later
“Bree? You ready to go?”
“In a minute!” I swiped lip gloss on and stepped back to survey myself in the mirror. A breath of wind gusted in from the open bathroom window, lifting my hair off my neck. I grinned and raced down the stairs to meet Mom.
“Is Cal meeting us over there?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed my handb
ag from the counter in the kitchen and opened the front door for Mom, whose hands were laden with two canvas bags filled to the brim with Prosecco, orange juice, gourmet cheeses and meats from the fancy deli in Willow Heights. “He went over early this morning to help unload all the construction stuff.” I closed the door behind her. “Like the do-gooder he is.”
“You could do a lot worse.”
“I have done a lot worse.”
Mom laughed and kicked beneath the rear of the car to pop the truck. “How are things with you two anyway?”
A month ago, it would’ve been insane to talk to my mother about this. I don’t think I’d ever told her about any boy in all the years I’d been dating them. But—and I felt like a total shit for thinking this—somehow in my dad’s absence the three of us had gotten closer, banded together, and become a real family. It was like he’d pushed us together in a final act of love.
“Good, I guess,” I said as I slid into the passenger seat. “We’ll see what happens when he goes to Yale in the fall.”
“Well, you have your whole life ahead of you,” Mom said as she started the car. “You don’t have to settle down with someone at the age of seventeen.”
“True.”
The snow had melted, and the trees along Main Street were covered in buds waiting to bloom. Spring had finally come to Twin Willows. I breathed onto the window and traced the outline of a wolf with my fingertip. I stared at it for a moment, then smeared it away with the heel of my hand.
Alessia’s driveway was filled with cars and trucks. We parked up the street and each took a canvas bag from the trunk. Mom linked her arm through mine. Her red hair tumbled over her shoulders in loose waves and glinted in the morning sunshine. I leaned my head on her shoulder as we walked down the driveway. She was like a flower; Dad had blocked her from the light, and now that he was gone she was in full bloom. My heart twisted a little that this was his legacy.
But that was the choice he had made, and that wasn’t my fault. I knew that now.
“Hey, they’ve made pretty good progress.” Mom pointed past the farmhouse where the skeleton of a new barn was beginning to take shape. Carly’s dad, who owned a construction company, stood in the middle of the rising framework, calling out directions. I spotted Jeff and Mr. Salter, the usual suspects, along with half the town. In the field next to the barn, a few long tables were set up, their checkered tablecloths fluttering in the breeze. Mom and I headed toward them.
“This is like a good old-fashioned barn raising,” I said as we squeezed the bottles of wine and cheeses and meats in between the bowls of pasta and potato salad. “I feel like I should be flicking a fan and looking for a husband.”
Mom laughed. Lidia crossed the field to us, a platter of bagels and cream cheese in her hands. “Buon giorno,” Mom said, and they kissed once on each cheek. “You know I’m more of a Chinese take-out kind of cook, so I brought mimosas.”
“It’s five o’clock in the world somewhere,” Lidia said. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes sparkly in the sunlight. “Thank you for coming.”
I leaned close to Lidia. “Our Italian friend hasn’t left yet, has she?” Lidia shook her head. I nudged Mom. “I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”
“Okay, sweetie.” She and Lidia walked back toward the crowd of people in the field. I spotted Alessia and Jenny, lounging on a blanket, calling out joking instructions to the guys working on the barn.
As I headed toward the pasture, Cal caught my eye. He gave one final pound to the nail he was hammering and grinned at me. I gave him a long once-over, fully appreciating the warmer weather that allowed him to wear tight T-shirts without anything over them. I pointed to the woods. He nodded once and picked up another nail.
I walked over the crest of the hill and to the edge of the forest. It was probably the last time I’d make this trip. I pressed the special rock in the stone wall, and the trapdoor opened.
“It’s me,” I called out as I descended.
Nerina stood in the middle of the main room, her fleet of Louis Vuitton suitcases stacked beside her. The lair had been cleaned up since the Malandanti had destroyed it, the broken chairs replaced, the smashed espresso machine removed. Everything looked tidy. Too tidy.
I met Nerina’s gaze. “You’re never coming back here, are you?”
She shook her head and sank into the leather armchair, a sad smile on her face. “I hope I will never need to.”
Where my mother had bloomed in my father’s absence, Nerina had shriveled in the wake of Heath’s death. She was a smaller, paler, thinner version of herself. Though her face was still unlined and youthful, I could see the years in her eyes catching up to her. Creeping in.
“But the sites still need to be protected.”
“And that is why we have the Clans.” Nerina folded her hands in her lap. Her whole being had quieted, like someone had put her on mute. “Without the threat of the Malandanti, the Concilio won’t need to be as involved anymore.”
I sat on the couch. “Are they really gone?” Part of me still didn’t believe it. The part that still woke up in the middle of the night, cold and convinced that the Rabbit was hiding in my closet. But he wasn’t. He and Pratt Webster were being held in a federal penitentiary without bail, considered dangerous flight risks. They were never getting out.
“Yes. For now.” Nerina stroked her cheek with her finger. Her nails were bare and clipped shorter than I’d ever seen them. “But remember . . . the Malandanti were born from the Benandanti. From those who wanted the power for themselves. That threat will never go away.”
“So we have to stay vigilant.”
“Sí.”
I sighed and leaned back into the couch. “Is that what you’re going to do? Return to Italy and stay vigilant?”
“Oh . . .” Nerina looked at her suitcases. “I thought I would travel for a bit. I’ve never been to Hawaii.” She bit her lip. Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and dropped onto her cheeks. “What am I going to do, Bree? How am I supposed to live forever without him?”
My throat closed tight. I got up from the couch and squeezed in next to her in the armchair. She bowed her forehead to my shoulder, her quiet sobbing very dignified and completely un-Italian. Which made it even sadder.
“I don’t know, Nerina,” I said, because I really didn’t. I couldn’t imagine such an empty eternity stretching out before me. “I think, maybe, you just take it one day at a time.”
Nerina raised her head, her face streaked with tears. Somehow, she still looked like a Botticelli painting. I looked like a Picasso when I cried. “I have never lived one day at a time,” she said. “I’ve always lived for years or decades, always thinking ahead to the next century. Perhaps it is time to change that.” She squeezed my hand. “And there is something I want you to do for me.”
“What?” Great. What was she going to rope me into now?
“I want you to come to Italy for the summer.”
I pulled back a little. “Seriously?”
“Sí, yes, of course. You must come.” She shook me gently. “You still have so much to learn about the magic.”
“But with the Malandanti gone . . .”
“You still have your power. There is so much you can do with it, so much good you can bring to the world.” She took both my hands in hers. “Come. Spend the summer with me and Dario and the Concilio. Cal can come too. And Alessia told me she and Lidia are planning a trip to visit her grandparents again.” The dark irises of her eyes swam behind the tears that filled them. “It will give me something to look forward to. Something to live for.”
“Well, okay. When you put it like that.” A wide smile broke out across her face, and I answered her with one of my own. “I mean, I have to check with my mom, but I’m sure it will be okay.”
“Bring her. And Jonah.” She swallowed. “It would be good to be surrounded by family.”
We were family, weren’t we? Funny how that had happened . . . My mind flashed back to the day we’d
come to Twin Willows. I’d been so sure that we wouldn’t be here long, that we’d leave this town in the dust like we’d left all the others. And now . . . I had roots here that I never wanted to pull up. I hugged Nerina hard. “Thanks, Nerina. For everything.”
Nerina kissed both my cheeks. “You have a great destiny ahead of you, Bree. I cannot wait to see what you do with it.”
I breathed in deep. I wasn’t going to settle for great. I was going to make my destiny nothing less than freaking awesome.
Chapter Thirty
The Promise Fulfilled
Alessia
The sun crested over the treetops, dappling the hillside green and gold. I leaned back on my elbows and imagined summer, the pasture covered with grazing goats, the pigs in their newly built pen, the hens squawking once again in their trailers.
My eye caught the little cabin on the edge of the farm, lonely and dark. I breathed in deep to keep the lump from closing my throat. I missed him every day. But I also knew I was sitting here now, watching our new barn rise up out of the ashes of the old one, because of him. He’d given me so many gifts, and I was going to spend the rest of my life celebrating them instead of feeling sad about it.
“Enjoying the view?”
I looked up.
Jonah loomed over me, his green eyes dancing. He peeled off his hoodie, revealing a form-fitting T-shirt beneath that, in fact, did fit his form very nicely.
I grinned. “I am now.”
He dropped onto the blanket I was sharing with Jenny and mopped his face with the discarded hoodie. The sunshine of recent days had colored his skin, deepening it from winter pale to a healthy spring tan. He grabbed the glass of lemonade nestled in the grass, downed it, and surveyed the four of us sitting there. “It doesn’t really seem fair that the girls are all hanging out here while the boys are working our asses off.”