CHAPTER 7

For a few seconds, everything descended into pandemonium. The werewolf was snarling, Izzy was yelling for Finley, and I had apparently dropped the backpack full of weapons again, since it wasn’t in my hands anymore. As stupid as it sounds, I still waited a second, hoping to feel my magic swelling up from the soles of my feet. Would I ever get used to being…well, human?

My fingers finally closed over the strap of the bag, but even as I pulled it to me, I wondered just what I was going to do. I’d never fired a gun in my life, and I wasn’t sure how exactly to stake something. Finley’s and Aislinn’s words echoed in my brain: Useless, useless, useless.

I glanced up to see Izzy holding the same knife she used on me last night, but as Finley and the Were scuffled in the dirt, Izzy wavered on her feet, obviously unsure of how to go after the creature without hurting Finley. I fished in the bag and drew out a handful of holy water vials. Rising to my feet, I chucked them at the werewolf’s back with everything I had in me.

It turned out that wasn’t a lot, because only one of the tiny bottles cracked. The others rolled harmlessly off its fur and onto the ground. Still, I got its attention.

It rose off of Finley and spun to face me, big strings of drool dripping from its muzzle.

I gulped as Finley scooted backward.

Last night I’d seen a spark of humanity in the werewolf’s eyes. Tonight, with the full moon rising, it was obviously more animal than human. Still, it didn’t attack me. Instead, it lowered its nose and sniffed, cocking its head to the side.

“That’s right,” I said, wishing my voice wasn’t shaking. “You know what I am.” I might not be able to use magic, but I knew the Were could still sense I was more than just an ordinary human. “Now, look,” I said, very aware of Finley and Izzy staring at me like I was a crazy person. “I know you’re scared, and I know these girls have been hunting you. But if you hurt them, you’re just going to give more people like them more reasons to want to kill you. So why don’t you just, uh, scamper off?”

The Were considered me, and for the space of three breaths, I thought we might all get out of this unscathed.

And then it bared its teeth, a low growl rumbling out of its chest, and I knew I was screwed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Finley loading a bolt in a mini-crossbow, but I knew how fast werewolves could move. There was no way she’d get off a shot before it was on me. And then I saw a bright flash. For a second, I thought maybe Izzy had fired a gun, but then that feeling of anger and pride and…power flooded through me. My hand lifted, my fingers twisted, and the werewolf froze, a sparkling net of magic holding it in place.

There! Elodie’s voice exalted in my head, and if I’d been in control of my body, I would’ve gritted my teeth.

I appreciate the save, but come on. This body-snatcher thing needs to stop.

This time, there was no answer, but I felt even more magic pouring down over my head and shoulders. I watched my fingers move again, and the spell holding the werewolf pulsed, sending out blue sparks. And then, with a rush of air, the werewolf vanished.

Where did it go? I asked Elodie.

Another dimension, she replied, and I wondered how a voice inside my head could sound so flippant.

What the—I started to ask, but then I was turning around and facing the Brannick girls.

“Stop being bitchy to Sophie,” I heard myself say.

Finley and Izzy looked at each other, then back at me. “Um, why are you talking about yourself in the third person?” Izzy asked.

But Finley shook her head. “It’s not Sophie, Iz,” she said. “Remember what she told us? She can only do magic when a ghost possesses her. I’m guessing this is the ghost.”

I felt myself nod. “Elodie,” my mouth said. “And I’m serious. She’s not exactly my favorite person, but she’s been through a lot. It’s not her fault your stupid club kicked Aislinn out and then got themselves killed. Crap happens.” I stepped forward toward Finley, watched as my finger poked her in the chest. “So take your teen angst somewhere else, and cut the girl some slack.”

I was speechless. Elodie Parris, defending me? Maybe in all this chaos, hell actually had frozen over.

Finley narrowed her eyes at me, but Izzy said, “She saved you, Finn. Before the ghost got in her. She fought a werewolf even though she didn’t have any magic or any fighting skills. This ghost seems like kind of a jerk, but maybe…maybe she’s right.”

See? Elodie said in my head. That’s how you handle chicks like this.

I really don’t need you to fight my battles for me, I replied, and she snorted.

Oh yeah, you totally had that werewolf.

I was about to make a sarcastic comment right back, but before I could, Elodie swooped away. I’d been unconscious the last time she did that, which, it turns out, had been a good thing. Because having a ghost in control of your body suddenly vanish? It’s kind of traumatic.

I fell to my hands and knees, gasping at the sensation of having a Band-Aid ripped off my soul. I stayed there, breathing deeply and wondering how I was ever going to stand up again. And then I felt a hand slide under my arm. Izzy was helping me to my feet. Finley took my other arm, and between the two of them, they got me up and moving.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

To my surprise, it was Finley who said, “No problem.” Then to Izzy, she added, “Let’s get her back to the house.”

We stumbled through the dark night. “So do you have any idea where she put the werewolf?” Izzy asked me.

“She said another dimension, so who the heck knows what that means?”

When we arrived at the house, Mom and Aislinn were sitting in the kitchen. They both had coffee mugs, and from the tension that hung in the air, I was guessing they’d been having some kind of intense conversation. As Finley rummaged around in the cabinets for antiseptic—the scratches on her arm looked red and angry—I filled Aislinn in on what had happened.

“That’s a very powerful spell,” she said, and even though the words You think? immediately sprung to mind, I bit them back. “If you can send creatures into other dimensions—” Aislinn continued, but I cut her off.

“I can’t. Elodie can. And it’s not like she’s reliable.” That was the nicest way I could think of to say, Back off with this weapon stuff, because it ain’t happening.

Aislinn sagged back in her chair, the light fading from her eyes. “Right. That’s a good point.”

Mom said, “Okay, that’s enough for tonight. Sophie needs her rest, and I’m sure Finley and Izzy do, too.” She glanced around the kitchen. “Speaking of, where is Izzy?”

Finley winced as she patted her bandage into place. “She probably went upstairs already.”

We all said good night then, bringing an end to what might have been the most bizarre twenty-four hours of my life (which said a lot). Aislinn told me I could keep the bedroom I’d been in earlier, and after hugging Mom—who was apparently going to stay downstairs to finish her discussion with Aislinn—I trudged back up the dimly lit staircase to my room.

Izzy was standing outside my door, a folder clutched in one hand. “Hey,” she said, sounding a little sheepish.

“Hey. Look, Izzy, I’m really beat, so whatever you want to talk about—”

“Here,” she said, thrusting the folder into my hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you. For trying to save Finley and for…I don’t know. Being nicer to us than you had to be.”

I smiled at her, and for a second, we did that “are we gonna hug?” dance, both of us moving in and out, our arms held at our sides. Good to know awkwardness apparently ran in the family. In the end, we just kind of patted each other’s shoulders before Izzy went back downstairs, and I headed into my room.

I leaned against the door as I opened the folder Izzy had given me. That ended up being a good thing, because as soon as I saw what was inside, my knees gave out. I slid down the door, one hand over my mouth as tears flooded my eyes.

There were only two things in the folder. One was a grainy color photograph that looked like it was some kind of surveillance shot. The other was a piece of paper with a few lines typed on it. The photograph showed a vampire I knew well—Lord Byron. Yes, the poet. He’d been a teacher at Hex Hall, and once he’d left the school, I’d seen him at a club in London. And now here he was, strolling down a street, a scowl on his face. But he wasn’t alone.

Jenna was walking next to him, looking nervously over her shoulder at something. She was thinner than normal, and paler, if that was even possible. But there was no mistaking that bright pink stripe. I ran my fingers over her image before looking at the paper.

New vampire joined Lord Byron’s nest, the note read. Female, age TBD, possibly one Jennifer Talbot.

There was a date under that. Taking into account those three weeks I’d missed, the picture was taken less than a week ago.

Jenna was safe. Jenna was safe and not burned up. She was with Byron, who may have been a total jerk, but who would take good care of her.

I closed my eyes and hugged the picture tight to my chest. If Jenna was alive, then maybe Dad, Archer, and Cal were, too.