Nothing.
She tried the door. It was unlocked. She glanced over her shoulder at Jackson. His worried look mirrored her own.
She held her breath and gently inched the door open.
More smoke billowed out, gray and red tendrils all tangled together. It didn’t smell like a wood fire. It stank like rot, like death and decay and nightmares, like waking up unable to breathe in the middle of the night. She began to choke the second it struck her. Jackson started coughing uncontrollably.
“What is this?” he rasped, voice hoarse from the smoke.
She couldn’t feel any heat. If this came from a fire, it wasn’t a normal one. “No idea,” Scarlett choked out.
Was this some kind of defense mechanism? Or a poison? Scarlett took a step forward and slipped. She caught herself just before she hit the floor, her palm landing in a pool of something sticky. Bile rose in her throat as she stared down at the puddle.
Blood. A spreading pool of it. Much like the one in Tiffany’s bedroom, but larger, uglier.
Scarlett choked back a scream and lifted her gaze to follow the trail. A body lay face-down on the floor just an arm’s length from her. Motionless. Scarlett’s breath came out in a weak moan. Not Tiffany, oh God, not Tiffany.
Beside her, Jackson was cursing. He moved faster than she did. Reached around her to grip the girl’s shoulder—it was a girl, Scarlett could tell that much from her yoga pants and tank top. But it was hard to see her face through the pouring smoke . . .
Smoke that, she now realized, looked like it was pouring out of the girl. Or at least, out of the area where her face lay pressed against the floorboards.
Jackson rolled the girl onto her back. Scarlett braced herself, fear flooding her entire body as she prepared to see her best friend’s face.
But it was Gwen’s empty eyes that stared up at them. Billows of smoky gray clouds poured out of her nose, her open mouth, even her ears.
“Gwen?” Jackson whispered, his voice filled with emotion.
Scarlett couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. She watched Jackson feel for a pulse, then heard him swear again, longer and louder this time. He reached for his phone. Only then did Scarlett catch his wrist.
“We can’t be here,” she whispered. “When they find her, the cops . . .”
Jackson nodded sharply. He took Scarlett’s hand and hauled her to her feet. “Come on.” He led her from the apartment. She couldn’t stop shaking as she stared at her palm, painted red in Gwen’s blood.
And all the while, only one thought circled in her brain, over and over.
If Gwen’s dead . . . who has Tiffany?
Chapter Thirty-One
Vivi
As Vivi gripped the wheel of the car she’d borrowed from Dahlia, she wondered if there was a calming spell strong enough to temper the anxiety currently pulsing through her chest. At the moment, she didn’t know if there was anyone she could ask. By now, word of her treacherous behavior with Mason would’ve spread from sister to sister, by conversation, text, and the soundless communication that came so easily to a number of Ravens.
Vivi groaned and hit the steering wheel. She’d spent her entire life wishing for friends, desperate for a way to belong, and then she’d thrown it all away in an instant. Just because a cute history major with an adorable accent had made her feel special. She was better than that, wasn’t she?
If Vivi had been in the passenger seat, she might’ve been able to take some calming breaths of the fragrant sea air as she sped along the coastline. But she was driving—alone in a car for the third time in her life. Because she’d moved so often, it’d been impossible to build up enough driver’s ed credits, and she’d gotten her license only a few months ago.
“You’re okay . . . you’re okay,” Vivi muttered as a truck barreled past her on the left, as if she were soothing a frightened animal instead of talking to herself.
But surviving the drive was only half the battle. Once she arrived, she’d have to figure out a way to search her mother’s house for the talisman. If it was even there. Daphne had had a few hours to hide it somewhere else.
Vivi had thought that Dahlia would come with her, but she ended up staying behind to prepare the complicated replicator spell they’d need to produce the fake talisman. Vivi wasn’t sure what sounded more dangerous—handing the powerful magical item over to Tiffany’s kidnapper or potentially risking the kidnapper’s fury.
Vivi exhaled as the GPS voice told her to take the next exit for Jekyll Island, a spit of land about an hour south of Savannah. For all Daphne’s talk about how much Vivi would hate Savannah and her fury over Vivi attending Westerly, it appeared she had settled nearby. It was just like her mother to forbid Vivi to do something that she thought was fine for herself.
Like joining Kappa.
A few minutes later, Vivi pulled up in front of a squat bungalow with a blue door and yellow shutters a few blocks from the beach. Thick fog was rolling in, and the wind chimes on the porch filled the air with a strange, atonal melody. She turned off the engine and got out of the car, looked in all directions, then walked up the short path lined with scraggly beach roses.
Before she reached the house, the door swung open, and Daphne appeared in the doorway. She had more gray streaks in her hair and deeper circles under her eyes than the last time Vivi had seen her, but otherwise, Daphne Devereaux looked the same as she had when Vivi said goodbye to her in Reno.
“Oh, Vivi, thank God.” Daphne pulled her into a tight hug, then stepped back to examine her daughter. “The cards said you were fine, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to see it with my own eyes.”
Now that Vivi knew the real power of tarot, Daphne’s instincts felt slightly less foolish to her. “Can I come in?”
Daphne hesitated, then glanced over her shoulder. “Now’s not a good time, sweetheart. The place is still such a mess. Boxes everywhere. Why don’t you and I walk into town? There’s an adorable little café I think you’ll like.”
“Boxes everywhere, huh? Does one of them contain the Henosis talisman, by any chance?”
“Vivi, please, I—”
“One of my sisters was taken, and the kidnapper says if we don’t deliver the talisman, she’ll be killed.”
Daphne’s face went white and she brought one hand to her chest. “That’s exactly why you can’t go back to that place. Kappa is a lightning rod for danger.” She moved aside just a few inches, as if still unsure what to do, then sighed and opened the door wide. “You’d better come in.”
Vivi stepped inside and waited while Daphne locked the door behind her, using the regular deadbolt and all the extra locks Vivi knew she’d installed when she’d moved in, as was her custom. Her mother couldn’t change a tire or install an AC unit, but her paranoia had resulted in her becoming a master locksmith. Though now her paranoia didn’t feel quite as delusional as it had.
“So I guess Louisville didn’t work out?” Vivi’s sweet smile didn’t match the edge in her voice.
In the kitchen, a teakettle whistled. “Kentucky has bad energy,” Daphne said as she brushed past Vivi. “Tea? I’m working on a new strengthening brew. Chamomile and sweet basil—”
“Were you going to tell me that you’d moved an hour’s drive away?” Vivi interrupted, following her into the kitchen. It was painted a sunny yellow with cheerful black-and-white floor tiles, but it was so narrow that their elbows bumped while Daphne poured her tea.
“I didn’t want to interrupt your studies.” She pressed the mug on Vivi, who accepted it in spite of her annoyance.
“So you ignore all my texts and calls, basically write me off for going to Westerly, but then you move to the same city yourself?”
“I wanted to be nearby. Just in case.” Daphne shrugged in a forced gesture of nonchalance as she poured a second mug for herself.
“In case of what? In case I got in trouble?” Vivi let out a short, bitter laugh. “The reason the Ravens are in danger is that you stole a valuable objec
t years ago and refuse to give it back. I know you’ve never cared about anyone but yourself, but a girl is going to die tomorrow unless you hand over the talisman.”
Daphne closed her eyes for a second, looking pained. “I think we should sit down and talk about this,” she said quietly, and led Vivi into the small living room, an unfamiliar space filled with many familiar things. Her mother’s favorite knit blanket was draped over a blue velvet trunk Vivi had never seen before. The one shelf on the wall held the carefully selected books Mom lugged with her on every move. And in a glass bowl was the mixture of lavender and cedar Daphne always placed on their coffee table. For a moment, all Vivi wanted to do was inhale the comforting scent of the items that had surrounded her for her whole life, the only source of consistency she’d had growing up.
Daphne sat on the couch and motioned to the spot next to her, but Vivi ignored her and sat in a scratchy yellow armchair instead. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” Vivi asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I never hid what I was,” her mother replied, suddenly sounding exhausted. “But I couldn’t make you believe in magic, Vivi. You needed to experience it for yourself.”
“Then why did you try to stop me from going to Westerly?”
“You don’t need to be a Kappa in order to be a witch. Those girls aren’t what they seem. You don’t know the lengths they’d go to for more power.”
“Like stealing the Henosis talisman?”
“Who told you about that?”
“Nobody needed to tell me. I saw a photo of you wearing it in the Gazette archives. A photo of you and Evelyn Waters, the girl who went missing.”
Daphne clutched her mug so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
“What happened to her?”
“She died, Vivi. Because she got involved in something she didn’t understand. The same kind of thing you’re poking around in now.”
“Is that some kind of threat?” Vivi asked incredulously.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her mother set her mug on the coffee table with a clank. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you.”
“Protect me by keeping me in the dark? Sounds like a great plan.”
“Yes, if that’s what it takes!”
Vivi rose from her chair, trembling with anger and frustration. “We’ve spent our whole lives on the run, and from what? Nothing bad ever happened to us.”
“Because nobody’s ever found it,” her mother snapped.
Vivi’s frenetic childhood came back to her in vivid flashes. The sudden departures, the midnight packing sessions, the long drives through the night, her mother taking circuitous routes to unknown destinations. When she was young, it had felt like a game. They were spies, on the run from some big bad enemy, sneaking across the country in their own little world. When she was older, it had gotten painful. Always leaving friends, crushes, everyone behind. Dragged away every time Vivi started to feel like she’d found a home.
It was all because of this, she realized. All because of Westerly, because of what had happened at Kappa. “So it’s true,” Vivi said slowly. “You do have the talisman.”
Daphne nodded. “It’s my responsibility to keep it from falling into the wrong hands, a job I’ve taken very seriously over the years.”
“So all this time, all the running, all the moves—was it because of what happened to Evelyn?”
“You don’t understand—”
“Did you kill her?” The words sprang from Vivi’s lips before her brain had time to process them.
Emotions flashed across Daphne’s face. Shock. Hurt. Indignation. Then back to sorrow, the kind of bone-deep sorrow that aged her mother ten years in a blink. “How could you think that?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Vivi said. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. All I know is that I need the talisman to save my friend’s life, but for some reason, you don’t seem to care about that.”
“Of course I care, but you’re not looking at the big picture. Do you really want the kidnapper to have one of the most powerful magical objects in the world? You have no idea how many lives you’ll be risking.”
“So I’m just supposed to let my friend die?”
“This is the reality of magic, Vivi. It’s not all charms and parties and magical facemasks with your sorority sisters. This is what I was trying to protect you from.”
The anger that’d been simmering in Vivi’s chest began to boil over. “Well, you might’ve been able to play games with my life, but I’m not going to let you do the same to Tiffany’s.” Her magic came rushing to her. She was a Pentacles, the suit connected to earth magic, health, and material value, so locating a highly coveted object required hardly any effort. Find the talisman, she thought.
Her magic responded eagerly, almost like it had been waiting for this. Her fingertips hummed; tingles raced along her palms and up her arms. Agitated as she was, the magic felt like a breath of fresh air to starving lungs. A relief. Finally, something she could control. Find it, she commanded, and the magic flowed easily to her fingertips.
“Stop, Vivian,” her mother ordered, and Vivi felt the snap of competing magic in the air. Her mother was casting her own spell.
“Show me the Henosis talisman,” Vivi commanded. A wind gusted—papers fluttered off the nearby table, photographs shivered on the walls, and the whole bungalow seemed to shudder.
“Stop,” Daphne said again. The papers stilled; the photos slammed back into place so hard, the glass panes cracked. “You won’t be able to find it this way—I’ve made sure of that.”
Vivi racked her brain, trying to figure out what safeguards her mother would’ve used. She looked around the room, and her gaze settled on a pair of gardening gloves by the door, similar to the ones Etta had used to plant the hogweed. Without saying a word to Daphne, Vivi spun around, wrenched open the locks on the door, and ran outside. Sure enough, at the edge of the lawn was a shrub with white flowers. The soil underneath looked fresh, as if the bush had been recently planted. This was why Vivi’s spell hadn’t worked—the hogweed had blocked her magic from finding the talisman. But now that she knew where to focus her powers, the plant would no longer stand in her way, not when she had the earth magic of a Pentacles witch at her disposal.
As Vivi raised her arms, the dirt began to shift slightly.
“Vivi, stop it,” Daphne snapped, hurrying toward her.
The dirt continued to churn, revealing roots and rocks and a few wriggling earthworms.
Daphne placed her hand on Vivi’s shoulder, then withdrew it with a yelp. Her palm had turned red, Vivi saw, as if she’d been scalded by the energy coursing through her daughter.
Vivi felt a twinge of guilt and started to lower her arms, but then she thought of all the people counting on her: Dahlia, Scarlett, and, most of all, Tiffany. She clenched her jaw and lifted her arms higher, straining against an invisible pressure. The ground started to rumble and then a glass oval rose up out of the muck. The glass was bluer than in the photo, the evil eye starker.
“You’re in danger at Westerly,” Daphne whispered, clutching her hand. “I’ve seen it in your cards. I’m trying to protect you.”
“Here’s a suggestion, then.” Vivi snatched the talisman out of the air and stuffed it into her pocket. “If you want to protect me? Stay out of my way.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Scarlett
Scarlett’s phone buzzed in her pocket: Vivi. She hit Ignore. Take a hint, Little Sis. She was kind of busy here. Too busy to deal with Vivi’s guilt about Mason. Not to mention that just seeing her name on the screen reopened the wound. Mason leaving her. Mason and Vivi together. Mason and Vivi kissing.
Scarlett closed her eyes, driving the pain of their betrayal from her mind with effort. She was a Winter. She was a witch. She was stronger than her broken heart. And she had more important matters to deal with. She stole a glance across the street at Jackson, who was hunched inside the pay-phone booth they�
��d finally found after half an hour of hunting for one.
A sense of unreality hung over the whole night, like this was just another of Scarlett’s nightmares. She kept waiting to wake up . . . but this was real. The cars passing by, their wheels bumping over the potholed street, were real. The bar at the end of the block, with its flickering neon sign, was real. The goose bumps on her arms were real. The mounting dread in her gut was real. And it was real that Gwen was dead and Tiffany was . . .
Stop, Scarlett commanded herself, not letting herself go there.
The sky above was deathly dark. The night of the new moon, when the earth, sun, and moon were aligned in such a way that left the moon completely invisible to the human eye. Minnie had told her that it used to be called the old moon. Whatever you called it, the symbolism was the same. It was a time for destructive magic, a time to cast powerful curses, a time to embrace your own wickedness.
It wasn’t surprising that Tiffany’s kidnapper had picked this night to perform a dangerous ritual. And now Scarlett had only a few hours left to stop it—only a few hours left to save her sister.
Movement caught her eye, and she tensed on instinct. But it was only Jackson hanging up the phone. He hurried across the empty street toward her, hands stuffed in his jean pockets.
“Did you do it?” Scarlett leaned against the roof of the car, watching him, worried.
“Used my best Batman voice, just in case.”
She offered up a small smile. She knew what he was doing—trying to keep things just light enough to prevent her from sinking into despair over Tiffany.
They’d decided it wasn’t safe to call the police from their cell phones. If they did, they’d have to explain what they were doing on the scene—and what could they possibly say? We were breaking into this girl’s apartment to find out if she’s an evil witch who stole my sorority sister—sorry, Officers.
Better to leave an anonymous tip. Jackson had just told them he’d smelled gas coming from Gwen’s apartment. It’d be enough to get someone in the door. To let them find . . . what they needed to find. Scarlett had cleaned up all traces of magic and all traces of her and Jackson—anything that could lead the police to wonder, to ask too many questions. Then they’d turned on the oven and left.
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