“Trouble,” Henry breathed. “It can be nothing but trouble.” His hand went to his blue jean pockets, retrieving an inhaler he immediately stuck in his mouth.
This time when the sound came, shadows moved along the walls. I wasn’t facing the window, but I saw Luther’s eyes narrow as he focused on something over my head.
His pupils reddened. “Get down!” he ordered just as the picture window on the side of the room imploded.
CHAPTER 18
Aunt Clara talks often of Hunters when we gather. One of the first lessons a witch learns is how to protect himself from a Hunter. There are protection spells that must be learned, even self-defense if there is time for it. But mainly, we are taught to avoid them. Clara looks often at NeeCee when she speaks. I wonder if it’s because she thinks NeeCee is weak. As over protective as Clara is, I doubt NeeCee has anything to worry about.
~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~
My back went against the wall, my head slammed into the wood paneling. Black spots swam before my eyes.
“Damn it!” I heard Luther shout.
Little needle-like pin pricks exploded all over my body, and I moaned, my vision blurred. Figures moved in front of me, and I blinked hard.
Black masks. Shouting.
“Get up!” a voice said in my head. It wasn’t mine. It was Luther’s, and there was no way to fight him. Even with the pain, fighting him was out of the question. My body obeyed where my mind did not.
I knew when I stood, my hand going to the wall for support, that I was bleeding. There were small cuts everywhere, glass embedded in my skin, and I clenched my jaw as I fought to clear my vision.
In front of me, Luther was leaning over a masked intruder, his hand around the person’s neck.
“You really think we’d let you find us first?” the masked figure asked. There was no doubt the intruder was a man.
Luther laughed. “You really think I didn’t know you’d come?”
My head bobbed, and I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes again, Luther had the man against the wall, his mask removed. Behind him, Lucas had another man pinned to the floor.
And then, someone screamed. I stumbled.
“More of them!” Belle called out.
The man Luther was holding laughed. He was a bulky man, tall with long, braided dark hair. I stared at the braid. Hunters.
“NeeCee,” I breathed, panicked. “Where’s NeeCee?”
I tried to walk and went down on my knees. More needle-like pain, but this time I didn’t cry out, this time I didn’t care.
I crawled, glass digging into my hands, my knees.
“Monroe,” a voice whispered, and I nearly cried in relief. NeeCee.
And then I looked up and froze.
Standing over Bernice was the blonde-haired woman from the cabin, the same one we’d seen in the bowl when we’d scryed, and in her hand, she clutched a gun. NeeCee was on her back on the floor, and she was shaking, her glasses knocked askew, her eyes on the gun’s barrel.
I held up my hand, as if the gesture alone would make the woman stop.
“Maggie,” I said softly.
The woman looked up, her hard, cold gaze moving to me. As soon as our eyes met, she grinned.
“Well, if it isn’t Ellie Jacobs. Quite famous, you are, among the Hunters,” Maggie said.
I could tell by the tone of her voice she was insane. I’d seen a look like that once in Dayton’s aunt’s eyes. At the time, she’d been controlled by a Demon. It made me thankful for Luther’s presence in my head.
“We can talk about this, Maggie,” I said.
I was suddenly one of those negotiators from all of the high drama cop shows on television, only this wasn’t fictional, and I was about to lose NeeCee. And damned if every single Law and Order type speech didn’t fly right out of my head.
Maggie’s eyes narrowed, her gaze moving between me and Bernice. “Something’s wrong,” she said.
Her voice was hollow, her brows furrowed in confusion. Her gaze moved between us again, and I stiffened. Calling powers.
As the Hunter-cursed witch, Bernice was supposed to have calling powers that drew the Hunters away from the Ayers, but we’d swapped magic. It wasn’t Bernice calling to Maggie now, it was me.
I kept my hand up. “Let her go. It’s me you want,” I said carefully.
Maggie shook her head, her eyes moving too quickly between us to be normal.
“No,” she said slowly. “No, this isn’t right.”
I started to stand, and she waved her gun.
“You stay!” she ordered.
I froze. I may have power, but I was human in every other way. One shot, and I was as dead as any other mortal. My gaze locked on Maggie’s even as Luther’s voice infiltrated my mind.
“Don’t move, Monroe!” he ordered.
I wanted to scowl, but didn’t. What did he think I was going to do? Dance?
A gun went off somewhere in the house, and my body went numb. Who was dead? One of the Hunters? Or one of our own?
Maggie seemed unfazed. “This one here,” she said, her gun gesturing at Bernice, “she was supposed to be the Hunted. I’ve been keeping tabs on her. And yet—”
“You were wrong, is all,” I interjected. “People make mistakes, Maggie. Can’t you feel it? That girl, that witch, is marked for Lilith. You wouldn’t want to anger the she-Demon would you?”
Maggie started to lower her gun, real fear entering her eyes. And then, after a long and thoughtful moment, her gun rose again, the barrel aimed at my head.
I released the breath I’d been holding, my heart beating so hard within my chest I was sure it would explode long before a bullet could reach me. My eyes closed.
The gun went off.
Nothing. No searing pain, no blackness. Nothing.
I opened my eyes.
Maggie was on her back on the floor, her eyes on the Demon standing over her. Luther.
A few feet away was the gun. I crawled toward it.
“The big decision here at the moment,” Luther said wryly, “is whether I kill you now or later.”
Maggie’s eyes widened, and Luther grinned. “I see you, Mother,” he said, his tone low.
It was a freaky moment, gross even. If Lilith looked at me, would she see Luther in my head?
I shivered as my hand closed over Maggie’s gun, the black metal cold in my palm. I lifted it.
“Do you even know how to use that?” Luther asked.
My gaze moved to him as I stood, the gun dangling at my side. To be honest, I knew nothing about weapons.
I shrugged. “It’s a gun. You just point and shoot, right?” I asked.
Luther shot me a look as I approached him, which was funny really since he looked somewhat ridiculous with a booted foot on Maggie’s chest.
I started to lift the gun, and Luther reached over, shaking his head as he grabbed me by the wrist, smoothly pulling the pistol out of my grip, his eyes locked on Maggie’s.
“I’ll take that,” he said. “You with a gun doesn’t seem like a very smart idea.”
I raised my brows at his insult. “What? You actually have those?” I retorted. “Smart ideas, I mean.”
Luther paused, flipping the gun before pressing it back into my palm.
“I’ve changed my mind. If you shoot yourself, you’ll just be saving me the trouble.”
Maggie watched us both, her eyes strangely alert.
“Oh, my God!” NeeCee said.
She had moved from the floor to the wall, her back pressed against the paneling, her eyes on the Hunter. My gaze followed hers.
Maggie’s placid blue eyes, a trademark Ayers feature, had taken on a red hue, her pupils dilated. I swallowed a gasp. Luther did nothing.
“You dare interfere in my business, Son,” Maggie said.
It wasn’t the Hunter’s voice that spoke, it was Lilith’s, the she-Demon I’d seen in my vision of Eta.
“Oh, my God!” NeeCee said again.
Maggie’s own lips turned up into a smile. I wanted to back away but didn’t.
“The Ayers are mine, Thorne. I suggest you stay out of it,” Lilith said.
There was a scuffle from behind me, and I turned just in time to see a masked Hunter barreling in my direction.
“Watch it!” Belle shouted. She was standing over a red-haired female, a stolen gun pointed at her head.
I didn’t even attempt to use my own pistol. I really didn’t know anything about guns. I threw it down instead, kicking it to the side as I ducked. The Hunter grabbed for me, and I moved under his arm, my foot coming down hard on the back of his knee before using my elbow against the back of his head.
The Hunter went down, and I used both mine and NeeCee’s magic to hold him immobile.
I looked up to find Luther’s eyes on me, and I shrugged sheepishly.
“Three brothers,” I said simply. I’d had my fair share of wrestling opponents growing up, including a brother with martial arts training.
Luther eyes brightened, and I knew he was attempting not to smile.
“Monroe,” Lilith’s voice said suddenly. All of my humor fled as my gaze slid down to Maggie. “It’s been a long time,” the she-Demon added.
I kept my expression even. “Not long enough,” I muttered.
Maggie laughed, the sound eerie because I knew it wasn’t her voice. “I allowed you to get the upper hand on me once, Witch. I won’t again. Your soul is mine.”
Allowed? She’d allowed me?
Luther leaned over, his hand going to Maggie’s chin, forcing her face in his direction. I winced at the way his fingers dug into her skin.
“It’s time to let the Ayers go,” he growled. “They’ve shed enough blood for you.”
Maggie managed to smile despite Luther’s grip, her red eyes glowing. “You really think so, Thorne? My son, the only one of my children whose abilities are so close to my own. You’d want to save them?”
Luther leaned close, his nose not far from Maggie’s. “Search her, Mother, feel my presence in the Ayers. You’re right. I am a lot like you. Don’t mistake me for your other children. In the end, I’m as evil as you are.”
She laughed. “And yet you risk yourself for them now?”
The side of Luther’s mouth lifted, the wry grin feral as his own eyes reddened. “She’s been useful to me. You of all people know we never destroy what is useful to us.”
I grit my teeth. Luther was right. I was useful to him, had been since I’d given him the amulet. Without me, he’d have his own possessive Demons to fight. Satan could possess any one of his Demons, and I’d kept him out of Luther.
“You don’t want to fight me, Son,” Lilith warned.
Luther stood, his head held high. “Oh, but I do. Prepare for war.”
And with that, he lifted a hand and Maggie’s eyes went wide before closing abruptly, her head lolling to the side.
“Did you kill her?” NeeCee asked, her voice small.
Luther looked up. “No.”
It was all he said. No explanation. Nothing. Just “no”. And when he turned to me and our eyes met, I realized something. Luther Craig really wasn’t the good guy. We were all in bed with a villain. It suddenly wasn’t about right or wrong. It was about which bad guy we were more willing to sell our soul to.
“You keep what you find useful, huh?” I asked, my voice void of all emotion, my eyes on Luther.
There was the sound of a body being dragged across the floor.
“Let’s get them all tied up and save all the emotional stuff for later,” Belle suggested in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
Behind me, Henry wheezed. “My window!” he whined. “Really!”
Lucas moved toward the seer, a Hunter dangling from his hands. “I’d worry more about the glass in your skin,” the Angel said.
Henry paid him no attention. “My beautiful window. Do you even know how much money I put into this place?”
Luther’s eyes were still glued to mine. “I’ve never pretended to be good,” he told me. “The only one who pretended anything was you.”
He moved past me then, and I sucked in a deep breath, my gaze going to NeeCee. She was still hugging the wall, her eyes wide. Blood oozed from a cut on her forehead. Smaller, less deep cuts peppered her arms. She looked at me, something akin to sympathy in her gaze.
Luther was right. He’d never pretended to be anything he wasn’t. He’d marched onto the scene as a favor to his brother and had remained out of curiosity. I’d been okay with that, so why wasn’t I now? And now that Luther knew the Ayers had once summoned his mother and had since bred women who would continue to summon her, why did he still stay? More curiosity? Or just because I was useful.
I moved toward NeeCee, my gaze on her cut. If being useful to Luther meant protecting her, did I really have a right to complain?
“My window!” Henry moaned again.
It was the last straw. Until now, I’d put up with a lot. I’d been okay being a favor. I’d put up with being possessed by a Demon. I’d relived my family history and bore Eta’s scars, her heartache. And I’d listened to two Demons battle for the right to my soul. I’d become my worst fear. I’d lost all control.
“Screw your fucking window!”
And with that, I took NeeCee by the arm before brushing past everyone on our way up the stairs. No more! I wouldn’t be used any more.
I wasn’t known for being impractical, I wasn’t known for throwing tantrums, and in my haste I missed when Maggie’s head rolled again, her eyelids opening to reveal red eyes and a dangerous smile.
CHAPTER 19
I talked to Dayton today. It felt so good to hear her voice, but it was painful too. She wanted to know when or if I was coming back to Italy, but I’m still nowhere near learning why I am connected to Demons. All I have at the moment are dreams, visions, and empty theories. I hate this lonely feeling, this empty feeling that I’m not going to like what I discover about myself.
~Monroe’s Totally Wicked Book of Shadows~
As soon as we were in the bedroom, I started throwing things.
“Damn!”
NeeCee sat heavily on the bed, her gaze distant.
“Damn!”
“Monroe,” NeeCee whispered.
My hands went to the bedroom wall, and it was the first time I noticed all of the blood. The scratches and the blood. My forehead met my hands on the wall.
“I hurt,” NeeCee said.
And now that she said it, I did too. My skin felt tight and raw. It stung and even burned in some places. I turned around, closing my eyes briefly before meeting her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”
NeeCee shook her head. “Don’t apologize. It was bound to happen sometime. You certainly held out longer than I did.”
I looked at my cousin, really looked at her. “What do you mean?”
She laughed. “Oh, I clocked out on you from the get go. Don’t pretend I didn’t, and don’t think I’m not aware of the Demon in my head. I knew when Luther possessed me. Your power wouldn’t let me ignore it. It just seemed easier to let him control me.” NeeCee’s eyes teared up. “I guess that makes me weak.
I moved to her, my hands taking hers. She winced, and I tried not to do the same. Glass cuts were like paper cuts. They might not always look terrible, but they hurt hella bad.
“Don’t do that to yourself, NeeCee. You aren’t weak. You never have been. Honestly, you’re smart, you’re pretty, and you have way more gumption than you think you do. Sometimes it takes more guts to let people lead you, than it does to lead. I know you. You’d go along with it as long as it was for your own good, but you would have fought if it wasn’t. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re an Ayers.”
NeeCee snorted. “A damn lot of good that has done us.”
I laughed
because, really, there wasn’t anything else I could do.
“We have some good family too,” I said. “Our parents for one.” My thoughts went to Mac. “And others.”
NeeCee started picking at the glass in her arms, and I did the same, my teeth clenched.
“What do we do now?” NeeCee asked.
I glanced at her, my eyes going to a piece of glass she was holding in her hands. An idea blossomed in my head. The glass wasn’t quartz, but ...
“NeeCee,” I said carefully.
She looked at me. “Yeah.”
I stood and moved over to a clear glass vase I’d noticed when I’d awoken to find Luther leaning over me on the bed, the grimoire under my head.
I froze. The grimoire! It was downstairs. I cringed at the thought of going after it.
“Monroe,” NeeCee said.
I shook myself. The grimoire was the least of our problems at the moment.
“Do you trust me?” I asked NeeCee as I lifted the vase.
NeeCee swallowed. “You know I do,” she said slowly.
I dropped the vase, and it shattered on the floor. I took two large shards and brought them over to the bed before lifting NeeCee’s hand.
“Then repeat after me,” I instructed.
I took one of the shards and reopened one of NeeCee’s cuts.
She cried out. “Monroe!”
“Just trust me,” I repeated.
I smeared both glass shards with her blood and then handed them to her. “Blood on glass ...”
NeeCee didn’t say anything, and I shook her. “Say it!”
NeeCee jumped but hastily repeated the lines.
I stared into her eyes. “Blood on glass, repel my enemy, possession pass, control remain with me, this I say, so let it be.”
NeeCee repeated the chant, her eyes wide with fear and hope as the shards brightened and took on a bluish-white glow before fading. Her blood was gone, absorbed into the glass.
“Was that what I think it was?” Bernice whispered.
I nodded. “It’s the same spell I did on the quartz when I created the amulets. The only change is the word quartz to glass. Now ...” I looked around the room and grabbed one of the pillows off of the bed, stripping the white pillowcase off of it. “Now we make them wearable.”
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