CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
This time when the darkness lifted, I was standing in an unfamiliar, empty room. Shadows danced around me, and the energy of the room pulsed like a heartbeat.
“Hello,” I called out. “Josephine?” I was shaking from what I’d just witnessed, and my face was wet with tears. Where am I? I stepped forward, but there was only emptiness in every direction
“Hello?” I tried again. Still no response. A jolt of panic shot through me.
I was seconds away from completely freaking out when a burst of light erupted in front of me. The light twisted and spun, evolving into a swirl of vivid colors that morphed into the picturesque scene of a garden. A young girl with long dark hair and wide green eyes was playing with a doll and singing to herself.
It was like I was standing in the middle of an IMAX theater, except the picture was vivid, so real I could smell the scent of lavender and honeysuckle in the air, could feel the breeze that blew the child’s long locks.
She looked familiar, but I was sure I’d never seen the little girl before. She continued to sing, her sweet little voice soft and breathy. I smiled, but when she twisted toward me, I got a glimpse of the necklace that hung around her slender neck. It was Josephine’s amulet. I sucked in a breath, the ache of Josephine’s death still resonating within me.
“It’s her,” I said, leaning forward. “Josephine’s daughter.”
Now I recognized the high cheekbones, the slightly upturned nose, the black hair, the green eyes that could’ve only come from her mother. I put a hand on my heart to stop it from beating out of my chest.
The scene abruptly shifted; the garden was the same, but the child had grown. She was a young woman now, lovely as the rosebush she stood beside and looking just like Josephine. She stood tall, gripping the front of her full skirt. Her face was pale, and in her hand was the emerald amulet. “What do you mean, Eliza?” she said, her voice quivering. “You told me my mother died in childbirth.”
Another woman stepped into view. I recognized her as the young girl who’d taken the baby at Josephine’s urgent request. “I know, but it’s time you learned the truth about who you are, Lily, about your destiny.”
As I watched, Eliza put a comforting arm around the young woman and told her about her mother, about what had really happened to Josephine. The pain etched across Lily’s face was so familiar I felt a pang in my chest.
After Eliza left, Lily took a deep breath and squeezed the amulet in her hand. “I won’t let you down, Mother,” she whispered, her face set with resolve. She whispered something, and the amulet began to glow and change. Pale pink strands of light wrapped around the necklace, covering it in a rosy glow. It was so bright I had to look away, but Lily stood strong, her head held high as the magic flowed through her.
When the light faded away, the amulet was no longer an emerald stone but a small pendent in the shape of tiny pink rose. Lily smiled and pinned the pendent across her heart.
The colors began to swirl again, and the image that appeared caused my throat to tighten. Lily was locked in a battle with three guardsmen. Electric pink lightning flew from her fingertips, but she was outnumbered. Her neck was bare. The amulet was gone. Her scream as they moved to overcome her was a knife in my chest.
The scene changed again. A new face this time: a young woman with a warm smile and long blonde hair piled on top of her head. Though there were less similar features, her wide green eyes were unmistakably DuCarmont. In her hands was a thick, leather-bound book: the Grimoire. The woman ran her hands across the book, whispering words under her breath. The book began to glow, streams of crystal blue light enveloping it. When the spell was complete, a blue-jeweled bracelet rested in place of the book. The woman secured the bracelet to her wrist and moved from the room.
I sank to my knees as the colors transformed again. The blonde woman was lying in a pool of crimson blood, her eyes open and unblinking. A young girl with fiery red hair knelt beside her, tears streaming down her face. “Good-bye, Mama,” she whispered, ripping away the bracelet.
Another scene materialized. A woman with chestnut brown hair moved into view and transfigured the Grimoire into a ruby brooch. Her eyes—the same unmistakable pair of green eyes—were the confirmation of what I’d begun to suspect.
This is my family. All the Keepers who came before me.
In between scenes of the Keepers were horrific flashes of the Master and the Guard—of their hunt for the Keepers. Every single pair of green eyes—the green eyes I now possessed—closed in death at the Master’s hand.
The tragedy of my heritage rolled before me like a filmstrip, and my entire body shook from the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling inside me.
Then, at last, came an image that nearly stopped my heart.
It was my mother.
She was holding the Grimoire in her hand, her forehead scrunched as if she were thinking hard about something. Then with a little shrug and a half smile, she muttered an incantation and the book began to glow. When the light faded, the emerald amulet sat in her palm, pulsing as if it were happy to be in its original form again. A fresh batch of tears rolled down my cheeks.
The final face I saw was gaunt and severe. A tall member of the Guard with blood staining his uniform walked toward the Master, his face triumphant. In his hands was the amulet. “It is done, my lord,” he said. “The witch is dead.”
I crumpled in on myself, losing the tiny scrap of control I still clung to. Everything faded away as my sobs grew louder. My heart was utterly broken for the family who had tried so hard, yet ultimately failed to keep the Master from getting the book. They sacrificed so much, only to fail in the end. It shattered me.
I cried even harder as I thought of my mother. The mother I’d never gotten a chance to know. I didn’t fight it when the colors began to swirl away and the darkness enveloped me again.
“Lainey? Can you hear me?”
I flinched away from the sound—the image of Henry stabbing Josephine was burned into my eyelids. The faces of the other Keepers. My mother. I clenched my fists together and fought the urge to scream.
I became aware of a warm pressure on my arm, the voice from before murmuring in my ear. As my eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the sights around me, it took several minutes for my brain to register where I was.
The tall pine trees were gone, replaced by pale yellow walls and white linen curtains. The smell of gunpowder and smoke had vanished, leaving in its place the delicate scent of clean laundry. Josephine, Henry, and the Guard were nowhere to be seen, but a single face hovered over mine with wide eyes. Gareth. I was back at home in my bedroom.
“Gareth?” I whispered, relief flooding over me. Sitting up so fast it made me dizzy, I launched myself into Gareth’s arms.
“Lainey, are you okay?” he asked, holding me against his chest. The anxiety in his voice was clear. “What happened?”
I shook my head, not yet ready to relive the horrible moments in the tent village, nor the flashes in the dark room.
“I was so worried,” Gareth whispered against my hair. “One minute you’re talking to the wall, and the next minute you’re unresponsive on the floor.”
Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself out of Gareth’s embrace and brushed the hair out of my face. “I wasn’t talking to the wall. I was talking to her. To Josephine.”
Gareth’s eyebrows rose.
“She showed me the rest of the story, what happened to her,” I continued. “You were right. The Master hunted her down; he wanted the Grimoire.” I took a deep breath. “He . . . he killed her.” I felt a lump rising in my throat, and I gulped.
Gareth nodded solemnly. “Yes. But she protected it.”
My brain supplied me with the image of a tiny baby girl with rosy cheeks, clear eyes, and a large emerald amulet fastened around her neck. “Yes,” I agreed. “She kept it safe.”
Now that the shock of the whole ordeal was over, my body sagged with exhaustion. I wanted to curl up in my bed and lose myself in the oblivion of sleep, but seeing the Guard in action had ignited a spark of fury deep inside me, and Josephine’s words echoed in my ear: The Master’s thirst for blood will never end, not until every last Supernatural who defies him is dead. He knows nothing of mercy.
I thought of Lane and Josephine, of my mother, and finally of the card that meant death held gingerly between Serena’s shaking fingertips. I couldn’t go to sleep now if I tried. I had to do something.
Pushing myself off the bed, I walked over to where the bronze dagger lay on the carpet. Kneeling down, I reached out and grasped the hilt. Its weight in my hand was terrible, but also reassuring. It promised dreadful things to come, but that I might now have a chance to survive them. I turned back to Gareth. “Ready for that training session?”
“Now?” he questioned. “I thought you said—”
“Let’s go.” Without waiting to see if he was following me or not, I turned on my heels and headed downstairs toward Gareth’s study.
It’s my choice. A flame blazed within me, the warmth spreading throughout my entire body. I’m choosing my destiny.
Gripping the hilt of the dagger even tighter, I straightened my shoulders and kept walking. I wasn’t going to sit around and let my mother’s sacrifice be in vain.
I was choosing to fight.
When I drove to school the next morning, the sun was obnoxiously bright. It was entirely too cheerful, given my mood. Gareth had coached me well into the morning hours, and everything hurt.
First, he taught me the basics of self-defense and hand-to-hand combat. Then we’d moved to weaponry. The dagger wasn’t heavy, but after hours of holding it out and slashing it through the air, the muscles in my arm were cooked spaghetti. Not to mention that every other inch of my body felt like it had been beaten black and blue. Between the train tracks, the magical leap through time, and the combat training, I felt like I’d been mauled by a bear.
I arrived at school just as the first bell rang. I parked my car and attempted a mad dash across the parking lot, my muscles screaming in protest.
As I limped toward the door, though, laughter bubbled in my throat. In the last twenty-four hours, I’d come to terms with the fact that I was a witch, created a massive thunderstorm, and watched the Master’s Guard slaughter innocent people—yet here I was running like a normal teenager across campus just to avoid being tardy to English class.
I skidded down the hall and then stumbled to a stop. Ty was waiting at my locker, leaning against the wall with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. My heart started beating a little faster.
“Good morning. Nice of you to join us.”
I rolled my eyes. “I overslept.”
“I see,” he said, smirking. “Well, perhaps this will help?” He offered me the cup of coffee.
“Oh my God, thank you!” I took a large swig. “What are you doing, anyway? Aren’t you going to be late for class?”
“Late? Nah, it’s making an entrance.” Ty winked at me. “Besides, I wanted to check on you.”
“Check on me?”
“Well, yeah. After last night . . . I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
My heart skipped a beat. My mind flashed to last night’s kiss—the way Ty had held me in his arms, the feel of his lips against mine. Get it together, Styles! I took another sip of coffee to clear my head. “Oh, right. The Calling and all that.”
“Well, yes, but . . .” Ty shifted from one foot to the other. “That’s not the only reason.” A slight flush colored his cheeks.
The tips of my ears grew hot, and I didn’t know what to say. We stared at each other until the final bell rang shrilly, making us both jump.
“Well, I guess there’s no point in rushing now,” I said. “Might as well take my time.” I started walking down the hall.
“Are you sure you’re okay, though?” Ty asked, falling into step beside me. “You look—”
“Like crap?”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“It’s okay.” I grinned. “I know I look pretty rough. I only got two or three hours of sleep last night.”
“Just couldn’t sleep?”
“No, Gareth was teaching me the proper way to stab someone. Did you know that if you stab someone here,” I indicated the soft spot underneath the corner of his jaw, “it will kill them almost instantly?”
Ty’s eyebrows shot up.
I laughed. “Let’s just say there’s a lot to fill you in on.”
“Well, you know, Ms. Runyan probably already marked us absent.” Ty pointed down the opposite hallway. “We could always take the long way to class.”
The voice in my head, the one that was still desperately clinging to the old order of things, protested weakly at the notion. Old Lainey would’ve been more concerned with getting to class than anything else. But I’m not that girl anymore, I thought to myself, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel a flood of anxiety when I thought about my future. I’m not that girl.
I smiled. “You walk and I’ll talk.”
“So let me get this straight,” Maggie said, brandishing her celery stick like a wand. “In the mere twelve hours since I last saw you, you played chicken with a train, made out with Pretty Face, and became Storm from X-men?”
“Yep.”
“And,” Maggie continued, gesticulating wildly, “you also pulled a Time Lord and somehow traveled back in time to see your long-lost grandmother get murdered by her resurrected lover?”
“It’s true,” I confirmed. “Don’t forget about the part where I found out my uncle was a Faerie.”
Maggie was silent for a moment, celery stick paused midair. “Holy crapkittens, Styles!” she finally squealed, sending the stalk flying behind her.
“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too.” I chuckled, then winced. The headache I’d woken up with had become a massive migraine, and every time I moved or turned my head, the dull ache behind my eye sockets throbbed.
Resting my head on my arms for a second, I tried to block out the noisy cafeteria. I’d already taken some ibuprofen, but it had had little to no effect, and the noisy commotion of lunch wasn’t helping either.
“Um, excuse me, ladies?”
I lifted my head to see Ty standing beside me, Maggie’s celery stick in his hand. “I believe this belongs to you.” He smirked.
I smiled up at him, warmth spreading through my body. Maggie leaned over, grabbed the celery stick from his hand, and pointed it at him. “You. Sit,” she commanded.
Ty chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He sat beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. A warm shiver skipped down my back.
“Just so we’re clear,” Maggie said, leaning across the table. “You’re Wolverine. Got that?”
Ty looked at me, his brows scrunched. I was equally puzzled. “Uh, Mags?”
“Oh, good gravy,” Maggie said. “Don’t you people read?” She pointed at me. “You’re Jean Grey, and I’m Scott Summers. He,” she indicated Ty, “is Wolverine.” She looked expectantly at me and Ty, as though things were suddenly crystal clear. When neither of us showed any sign of comprehension, Maggie groaned and shook her head. “Look, most people assume that Jean Grey and Wolverine were the ’it’ couple when it comes to X-men, but in reality, Scott Summers was the true love of her life. Do you get what I’m saying?”
I was still confused, but Ty leaned forward and nodded his head. “Absolutely.” He smiled. “You’re the best friend and I’m . . . just Ty.”
Maggie raised her arms above her head in the touchdown sign. “Yes! Well done, Pretty Face!” She winked at me. “He’s quick too! You picked a good one, Styles!”
“Maggie!” I hissed. Beside me, Ty chuckled and nudged my shoulder.
Maggie and Ty continued to chat, but I couldn’t concentrate on their conversation. My headache was getting worse, and all I really wanted to do was find a nice quiet spot where I didn’t have to think.
I glanced around the cafeteria, watching my classmates interact with one another. A bunch of football players were throwing balls of wadded-up paper at one another, and a few kids from the drum line were tapping out beats on their lunch trays with pencils. There was a group of mathletes working on what appeared to be advanced calculus, and several cheerleaders were hanging neon posters advertising the upcoming Halloween carnival. It was exactly the type of scene you would expect to see in a normal high school cafeteria.
It was strange to think that, only days ago, I’d been just like them—completely oblivious to the fact that the world was home to an entire realm of people only believed to exist in fairy tales and bedtime stories. A realm I belonged to.
The cheerleaders moved closer, hanging a large banner on the wall near my table. Their cheerful chatter seemed to amplify the pounding in my head. The other sounds—the rhythmic tapping, the thwack of the paper balls, the rustling of pages turning—all seemed to be getting louder. Every single decibel grated against my nerves. Groaning, I put my head down on the table.
I just need it to be quiet. I flipped the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head, and immediately I noticed a difference. The sounds were slowly fading away. “Just a little peace and quiet,” I murmured.
“Uh . . . Lainey?”
“Yeah?” I replied, not moving from the sanctuary of my hoodie.
“I think you need to see this.” There was something in Maggie’s voice that made me sit up. Ty and Maggie were both staring at me.
“What?” I demanded. “What is it?”
That was when I noticed that the entire cafeteria had gone silent. The students were still moving around, laughing and talking, but it was as if someone had pressed a gigantic mute button.
“What the . . .” I looked around, watching as a tall, lanky boy tripped on his own shoelaces and dropped his tray to the floor. Where the loud clatter should have been, there was nothing but silence. I turned back to Ty and Maggie, my mouth hanging open. “What happened?”
Maggie shrugged. “We were hoping you’d tell us.”
“I didn’t—” I sucked in a breath. “Oh . . . it’s because of my head. I just wanted some quiet.”
“Well, I’d say you got your wish. Nice job, Styles.”
“Nice job?” I jerked my head around to look back at my classmates. “Maggie, this is not okay. I don’t know how to fix it!”
“I think it’s an improvement, personally.”
I groaned and threw my hands up in the air. I glanced around again trying to figure out a way to undo . . . whatever it was I had inadvertently done, but I wasn’t sure what to do and I was beginning to panic.
“Just take a deep breath and relax, Lainey,” Ty’s calm voice whispered in my ear. “Your magic reacts to your emotions, remember? Just take a deep breath and focus on the sounds you heard before the silence.”
I nodded, grateful for a game plan. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. After a few minutes, my heart rate slowed. Relief rushed through me when the silence suddenly broke and the loud sounds of the cafeteria flooded in on me again. Pain shot through my temple, but I was so thankful that the spell was lifted, I hardly noticed.
“Thank you,” I said to Ty. “I don’t know why this keeps happening. I’m definitely not doing it on purpose.”
“Maybe you should talk to Serena,” Maggie suggested. “Maybe she knows why your powers are going all haywire on you.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually.” I reached into my bag for my cell phone. As soon as I pulled it from the zipper pocket, it began to vibrate and chirp in my hand. Serena’s name appeared on the caller ID. “That’s a weird coincidence.” Swiping my finger across the screen, I answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Lainey!” Serena’s exasperated voice came through the speaker. “Where are you?”
“I’m at school. I was just getting ready to call you, actually. I—”
“Lainey!” Serena shouted into the receiver. “You have to get out of there now!”
“What?” I gripped the phone tightly as a cold shiver ran down my spine. “Why?”
“You’re in danger, Lainey! You have to leave right now!”
“What are you talking about?” I stood up, throwing my backpack over one shoulder, and headed toward the double doors of the cafeteria, beckoning Ty and Maggie to follow me. “Serena, what’s going on?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Serena exhaled sharply and started talking. As she spoke, all the blood drained from my face.
“We’ll be right there,” I managed to whisper, hanging up the phone.
“Lainey, what is it? What’s going on?” Maggie yanked on my arm, trying to get my attention.
“It’s the Guard. They’re coming.”
Ty and Maggie began talking over one another, asking me questions, but the only thing I could focus on was the rapid pounding of my own heartbeat.
“They’re coming . . . for me.”