by Nicole Maggi
I stared at her. “What? How do you know about that?”
“Barb told me. She came over this afternoon.” Lidia took a cookie and sat at the kitchen table. She picked up a stack of bills. “I think you should go. It will help get your mind off things.”
Things being Jonah. I was sure Lidia didn’t know that Josh’s parents were away; she wouldn’t be so eager for me to go if she did. “Yeah, okay.” It was better than sitting around here all night, watching Lidia pay bills we could barely afford while waiting for Heath to come home.
Jenny came over before the party and performed an impressive makeover. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. She had completely covered up the dark circles. My eyes looked luminous against my pale skin.
We drove through town in Lidia’s car. Josh lived at the end of a dirt lane surrounded by woods. Before we even saw the house we heard music pulsating up the driveway. I parked in between an oversized SUV and a snowdrift. Jenny and I held on to each other as we walked down the icy driveway, our shoes slipping on iced-over mud puddles.
Clouds of smoke—cigarette and otherwise—fogged up the front porch. I coughed as we made our way to the front door and inside the huge Aspen-style house. The foyer and stairs were crammed with kids. We sidled through the crowd to the kitchen.
“You want a drink?” Jenny yelled over the din, pointing to a large keg in the middle of the floor.
I shook my head.
She shrugged and grabbed a plastic cup from the counter. By the time it was full, she was in a lip-lock with Seth.
I wandered through the house, passing dimly lit rooms where shadows of kissing couples moved on the wall. A carpeted stairway led to the basement with a huge game room. Two guys from my English class were playing pool, half a dozen girls hanging on to the sides of the pool table, their skirts hiked up to their thighs.
A bunch of jocks and their bored girlfriends sat on deep leather couches, watching college football on a massive television. The jocks let out a roar in unison as an apparently amazing play went down. One of the girlfriends rolled her eyes and got up, revealing another figure that had sunken into the corner of the sofa. My heart skipped like a stone on the surface of water. It was Jonah.
He stared at the television screen as though he were blind, sipping from a cup of foam-tipped beer. I felt hot and cold all at once and unable to move, like an insect trapped in a block of amber. He glanced up, and our eyes met over the heads of the pool table girls.
I turned and fled up the stairs. A cluster of new arrivals blocked the front door, so I rocketed up to the second floor. On the landing I stopped and peered over the rail to see if Jonah had followed me. But the only people on the stairs were couples who couldn’t find a private place to make out.
I went down the hall, deeper into the house. Half the upstairs rooms were locked, whether by Josh or by couples that had gotten first dibs on the bedrooms, I could only guess. In the middle of the hall a huge sunburst window looked out at the dark forest behind the house. I pressed my nose to the glass, my breath foggy. My heart was still jumpy. I had been so sure Jonah wouldn’t be here, not with his suspension from school.
A soft light flickered on from the porch beneath the window. I peered down. Josh emerged onto the porch carrying two plastic cups. Bree followed him, her gait unbalanced. She swayed as she gulped down her drink.
I grasped the windowsill, remembering what Jonah had told me, about how Bree would look out for him at parties. Clearly, she had abandoned her post tonight. I gripped the windowsill harder, my knuckles white. What was she doing up here when her brother was one flight below, drinking for the first time since he’d maimed a girl in a drunken car crash?
Bree finished her drink and held out her cup to Josh, a lopsided smile on her face. Maybe she was trying to forget something too. Like how she had screwed up and lost control of the Waterfall for the Malandanti.
Josh ran his finger down her throat to her collarbone, took her cup, and disappeared into the house.
I stood frozen at the window, thoughts colliding in my head as I watched her collapse into an oversized lounge chair, her body limp and loose.
The synchronicity of events was too much to ignore. I whirled away from the window and galloped down the stairs, muttering apologies to everyone I bumped into along the way. Melissa tried to catch my sleeve as I ran through the kitchen, but I was too fast. I opened the sliding glass door and skidded to a stop on the porch. The cold air filled my lungs as I panted.
Josh had beaten me to the porch and sat on the chair next to Bree, trying to tug her shirt over her head.
“Hey!”
He looked up and smirked at me. “Really? This is getting a little old, Jacobs.”
I stalked toward him. “Yeah, I’d say it is. You taking advantage of girls is getting really, really old.”
Josh got to his feet with some difficulty; he seemed almost as drunk as Bree. “What are you going to do about it?” he slurred.
“Get out of my way.” I brushed past him and bent over Bree.
She murmured something, her eyes half-closed.
“I’m taking her home.” I hauled her up. She pushed at me a little but was coherent enough to stumble along with me as I supported her around the waist.
Josh watched us go, his body swaying on the spot.
“Sorry to spoil your fun.”
I got Bree through the house and into the car before I thought of Jenny. She’ll get a ride. Seth was here. And Jonah—Jonah—how long would he carry on his self-destructive one-man show before he realized Bree was gone? My chest started to ache, but I shut it down. The mission is what matters, I told myself and peeled the car backward out of the driveway.
Lidia was asleep on the couch, the television still on, when I got home. I stared at her for a moment, how her brow creased with worry even in her sleep. My throat tight, I turned away before the tears came.
I grabbed what I needed from the house and went back to the car to get Bree. The act of half carrying, half dragging her unconscious body across the farm to the Cave exhausted me. At the Virgin Mary shrine I had to stop and rest, panting to catch my breath. I avoided the Virgin Mary’s damning eyes and hoisted Bree up again. I had no idea that kidnapping was such manual labor.
When I got inside the Cave, I sat her in the most cushioned chair I could find. I backed up a few feet until I hit the door and pressed myself against it, staring at Bree’s limp form. What if she’s not what you think she is? said the little voice of doubt inside me. “She is,” I muttered. The caul in her mirrored compact proved it.
Several long minutes passed before Bree moved. Her eyes fluttered open. She scrunched her face up and glanced around at the tight, rounded interior of the Cave. “What the—?” Her eyes found me. She blinked rapidly, confusion distorting her features. “Alessia? What the hell?”
I crossed my arms. “I think we need to talk.”
“And I think you need some serious therapy.” She stood, wobbled on her unsteady feet, and sat back down.
Without a word, I handed her a bottle of water.
She downed half of it and stood up again. I moved out of her way as she reached the door and tried the handle.
My dad was a quirky guy. Although he could be the life of the party, he also loved his privacy something fierce. And so when he built the Cave, he fashioned the door to lock from both the outside and the inside. With a key. I held it up in front of Bree’s face. “I said, we need to talk.”
She sidled away from the door, her lips white with anger. “What are you playing at?”
“I think you know.”
Bree threw the water bottle against the door. It cracked open, and water seeped out, staining the concrete floor. “You have got to be kidding. Is this about Jonah?”
The sound of his name was a knife through my middle. I took a deep breath and pressed my fist to my rib cage. “No,” I managed to say. “This has nothing to do with him. This is between you and me. You know t
hat.”
She shook her head. “This is insane. It’s called kidnapping.”
“There are far worse crimes,” I said. My voice wavered. “Like killing twenty-two innocent people.”
Her eyes widened. “Killing—are you shitting me?”
“Stop acting innocent!” I slammed the table, sliding it an inch. “I know what you are.”
Bree stalked toward me. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
I took a step back as she came closer, then caught myself and held my ground. “Yes, I do. You know about the magic.” I held up a finger. “That was my first clue.”
“First clue to what?” Bree stopped. She braced herself between the table and the sink, blocking my path. “And how did you find out about the magic?”
I scooted around the other side of the table. “My second clue was the witchcraft book,” I said, ignoring her questions. “Should’ve hidden it under your mattress.”
“I knew you were snooping in my room. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“But still I wasn’t sure,” I went on. I dug into the back pocket of my jeans. “Until I found this,” I said, tossing the mirrored compact onto the table.
Bree went still. “Where did you get that?” she whispered. Her face was mottled with rage as she swiped the compact off the table. “How dare you!”
“It fell out of your bag in the auditorium,” I said. “Pretty careless of you. Don’t you know a Malandante should never be without her caul?”
I watched her face closely. Her lips thinned, and her pupils dilated until her eyes were almost black. She swallowed hard, her breath so sharp that her nostrils flattened. “Malan-what?” she whispered, but I knew she was lying. She knew the word, and she was unable to hide her surprise that I did too.
I edged toward the door. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No,” she said through gritted teeth. Her voice was steadier now, but her eyes betrayed her fear. “No, I don’t.”
“You’re lying.” I reached behind my back and fumbled to unlock the door. “I didn’t expect you to tell me the truth. But I know how to make you show me the truth.” I opened the door a crack. Cold wind sighed into the Cave.
Bree dashed forward, but before she could reach the door, the familiar ache twisted my heart.
The force of the transformation blew me up against the low ceiling. My wings beat against the beams, aching for the endless height of the sky. Just below me, Bree stared upward, straining her neck as she twisted back and forth to look at my seemingly dead body on the floor and the Falcon that hovered just inches above her. Any minute now, she would become the Panther, and then we could fight for real, instead of skirmishing with words. Any minute now, any minute now . . .
I shot down to the table, catching myself on its edge, to observe her transformation at close range. But she remained human, staring at me with feral eyes.
Loose hair around her face fluttered with her quick, uneven breath. “Alessia, is that you?”
I let out a long screech. Come on, I thought at her. Fight me. You know you want to.
But Bree held an unbelieving expression. “Your aura, it’s blue . . . You’re the other side—the Benandanti—”
Of course I am, stupid! I wanted to shout. What did you think this was all about? I flew in a circle in front of her, the beat of my wings rustling her hair.
She followed my every movement, but still she did not transform.
I shot up to the ceiling, bumping my head with my out-of-control speed, dipped down and back up again. It was against the code of the Benandanti to attack Malandanti in their human form, but if I did, if I cut her just enough to make her angry, would she finally shift into the Panther? I pushed away from the ceiling, my talons reaching out toward Bree’s pale skin . . .
The door to the Cave banged open.
I jolted in midair. The force of stopping tilted me sideways.
Jonah stood in the doorway, his tall form silhouetted by the dim light. He fixed his gaze on me, his green eyes sharp. “Leave her alone.” His voice shook. “She’s not the one you want.” He slammed the door shut behind him.
“I am.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
The Panther
Before I could blink, Jonah’s body lay on the floor, and the enormous ebony Panther appeared. His silver aura shimmered like mercury.
No, I thought. My body felt frozen. No, it isn’t true. It couldn’t be. I had found Bree’s caul . . .
The chain-link bracelet Jonah always wore glinted on his lifeless wrist, the bracelet I had never seen him without. The bracelet containing his caul, just as his twin sister kept hers near at all times.
The Panther’s green eyes glowed at me . . . Jonah’s eyes.
In the space of a breath, the light of my aura went out, and I found myself back inside my human body. I gasped for air as I sat up, dizzy and nauseous from the rapid, unplanned transformation.
The Panther swung his head and slunk toward me, just like in the vision I had had in this very room . . .
Bree stepped in front of her brother. “Stop it. Just stop it right now. I can’t take it anymore.”
The light in the Cave flashed silver. When it cleared, the Panther was gone. Jonah scrambled to his feet. “You can’t take it anymore? What about me?”
I thought I might be sick. All this time, I had thought it was Bree, but instead it was the boy I loved. “I-I need to sit down.” Bree moved aside to let me pass, but Jonah reached out to catch my arm as I stumbled toward a chair. “Don’t touch me!”
“Well, this is quite a pickle.” Bree’s tone was sarcastic, but her fingers twisted behind her back, betraying her anxiety. “You two are a real-life Romeo and Juliet.”
“Shut up, Bree.” Jonah crouched down in front of me.
I held a hand up to keep him away and turned to Bree. “How did you know about the Malandanti?”
She tossed her hair back. “Because they came to me first. As if I wanted to waste what little social life I have on them.”
I straightened. “You said no?”
“Yeah, I said no.” She glanced at Jonah. “So they went after the next best thing.”
“And you told her?” I tilted my head to Jonah, barely looking at him. “You’re allowed to talk about it?”
“He didn’t tell me.” Bree held up her hand. “We’re twins, and we were both born with the caul,” she said, ticking down one finger. “Our father works for the Guild.” She ticked down another. “And then that accident happened, and I knew he was ripe for the picking. It doesn’t take a genius to put it all together.” She looked me up and down. “Or maybe it does. Because you obviously didn’t.”
The wheels in my head whirred and clicked into place, like a watch being set to the right time. Deep inside, I knew she was right; I should have suspected Jonah all along, but I didn’t want to. Even now, with the proof right in front of my eyes, I didn’t want to believe it. I rubbed my hands over my face. “Bree, I need to talk to Jonah. Alone.”
“No way.” She pulled me out of the chair and pushed me away from Jonah. “I’m not leaving my brother alone with you.”
“What do you think is gonna happen?” Jonah stood and folded his arms. “We’re just going to talk.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what they told Osama when they stormed his compound,” she said. “You two are at war. You can’t just talk this out.”
Jonah and I locked eyes over his sister’s head. In his gaze I felt a silent pledge; that even though Bree was right, we would not hurt each other. I gave a slight nod.
Jonah grabbed his sister’s arm.
“Let go of me!”
“No.” He dragged her to the door. “You can’t protect me this time.” He pushed her out into the night and threw his weight against the door before Bree could slide back inside.
The handle rattled. I ran forward and locked it.
Bree pounded and shouted for us to open th
e door.
I backed away, clutching the key.
Jonah stared at me. The flickering light cast long shadows, and I thought I could see the form of the Panther moving and writhing on the ground.
The door thumped one last time; it sounded like Bree had kicked it. “You both are freaks!” she yelled, her voice muffled from beyond the heavy wood. “You deserve each other!”
It grew very quiet. Jonah and I looked at each other across the wide wooden table.
“I guess this is easier for me,” he said finally. “I’ve had a week to process.”
My mind tumbled with thoughts and questions. For some reason, the most insignificant came out first. “How did you get back inside that night? Can panthers jump that high?” The roof of the garage, underneath the guest room window, was at least fifteen feet high.
“Normal panthers can’t,” he said. “But I’m not a normal panther. Just as you’re not a normal falcon.”
“No,” I said, “I’m not. I am a Benandante. And you fought me at the Waterfall. Even after you knew who I was.”
“So did you,” he shot back.
“I didn’t know I was fighting you.”
“You broke the Raven’s wings.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“So did I. The Raven is my Guide.”
“Your Guide started the fire in my barn.”
“No way. I don’t believe that.” Jonah ran his hand over his face, rubbing his skin so that his cheeks grew ruddy. “Why, Alessia? Why did you join them?”
“Why?” I croaked, words stuck in my throat. “Why did I? Why did you? The Malandanti are evil.”
“What? No.” Jonah stepped toward me.
I was frozen, knowing I should run but unable to move.
“The Malandanti aren’t evil at all—”
“They tried to kill me!”
“They saved my life—”
“They killed all those people on the bridge,” I cried.
Jonah jerked backward.