Authors: Christopher Smith
And yet in spite of everything I’d gone through, nobody had ever broken me.
They tried and they came close, but I still got up each morning, I still faced my father and listened to his drunken insults, and I still went to school to face a whole host of monsters of a different sort.
For years I did this without fail.
I was stronger than I ever gave myself credit for.
I squeezed Jim’s hand.
I told him that I loved him and that I would fight for him.
I told him not to worry and that all of us were here for him.
They won’t win
, I said.
They can’t win.
“Are you ready for this?” Paisley asked.
I placed my hand on the amulets and thought of something Jim said when he gave me my first one.
You work it with your heart and with your head.
The key phrase was
with your heart
.
Looking at Jim now, I fully understood what he meant.
There was steel in my voice when I spoke.
“I’m ready for it.
How about you?”
Paisley turned to me and when she did, her eyes were bright and focused.
“The last time I saw a witch of his stature burn was more than two hundred years ago.
And no one deserves it more than Darien.
You’ll see how he is.
You’ll get it the first time you lay your eyes on him.”
She looked around at Alex and Jennifer, who were standing behind us.
“Tonight, we take that motherfucker down.”
But the moment she said it, the amulets did something they’d never done before.
They burst into flames against my chest.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Paisley was swift.
She passed her hand over the amulets and snuffed out the fire but was unable to suppress the heat.
There was surprise on her face, but beneath it was control.
“They’re burning me,” I said.
“They’ve never been this hot.”
“That’s because they’re here,” she said.
“Outside.
Dozens of them.
We need to move.”
She lifted up my T-shirt and slipped her hand between the amulets and my chest.
The heat remained, but it wasn’t as intense.
Or at least it didn’t feel as intense.
I wasn’t sure what she’d done.
And then, from the living room, came the sound of a door opening.
The linoleum floor creaked.
The door clicked shut.
“Seth?”
I knew that voice.
“Quick,” Paisley said to me.
“Take them to my house.
I’ll get Jim.”
Before I could answer, she and Jim were gone.
Time seemed to slow.
Somebody was in the hallway.
Jennifer and Alex stepped beside me.
Then came a man’s voice:
“They just want the amulets, Seth.”
It was my father.
“Then they’ll release your mother and me and we finally can rest.”
He was getting closer.
“Why don’t you just give them to me so I can give them to him?
You’re mother and I are tired.
He won’t leave us be until you do what he asks.”
He was at the door, which I sealed shut.
The doorknob rattled.
Then, after a moment, a fist smashed through the wood, causing splinters to fly into the room and Jennifer to scream at the sight.
Another fist shot through, then a foot.
Then I saw my father’s face, twisted and ugly, peering into the room.
He looked toward me, but I couldn’t tell if he was looking
at
me.
His eyes were white and unseeing, as if they’d just been boiled.
There was no time.
I imagined a shield around Alex, Jennifer and myself, reached for their hands and then, with everything I had within me, I imagined Jim’s trailer exploding into a fiery devastation of flames.
The walls collapsed around us, revealing the outside.
Paisley was correct.
We were surrounded by witches, some of whom were now falling to the blackened, smoking grass and shrieking while they burned alive because of the blast.
In the split second before I transported each of us to Paisley’s house, I was able to take in enough of the scene to understand its scope.
There had to be at least eighty of them, all scattered around Jim’s lawn.
Anna was there, blood on her face and a wild look in her eyes.
But why the blood?
A look at her feet confirmed it.
She’d killed one of Jim’s cats.
And then there was the man I saw from my dreams several days ago.
He was standing front and center, darkly handsome, dressed in black, arms folded, looking straight at me.
“You won’t win,” he said to me.
“What makes you think you will?”
“Because I’ve never lost anything to a faggot.”
When the group started to laugh, I waved my hand behind me, fixed Jim’s trailer and got us the hell out of there.
*
*
*
We landed in Paisley’s entryway, which was alive with activity.
Men and women were rushing up and down her grand staircase, though their feet weren’t touching the stairs—they were soaring over them.
I spotted Edward in the crowd and he came over to us.
“They can’t touch us here,” he said.
“Where’s Jim?”
“Upstairs.
He’s safe for now.
Paisley made certain of it.”
“And Paisley?”
“I’m here.”
I looked up at the top of the staircase and watched Paisley round the banister and start to float down to us from above.
She was dressed in a pure white, skin-tight pantsuit that looked as if it was made of some sort of ethereal fabric unknown to me.
It seemed designed for freedom of movement, which made sense given the night we were about to have.
Her hair was tied behind her head in a simple braid that rested over her left shoulder.
She wore white knee-high leather boots covered in bands of some kind of metal.
Silver?
Nickel?
I was so distracted by how she had transformed herself into some kind of warrior queen that I hadn’t noticed the ancient-looking books poised in her hand.
“Come,” she said to us.
“Into the parlor.
I need your help.”
We followed her over to a table near the fireplace.
She put the books down, flicked her finger toward her and lifted one of them into the air.
It opened to a specific page and rested about a foot off the table.
There was nothing beneath it.
“There are a few ways we can bring down Darien’s coven.
The trouble is that he knows each way we can bring it down and likely has already protected his witches from any spell I can find in these books.”
“But we don’t know that for sure,” I said.
“He could have missed one.”
Paisley nodded.
“It’s unlikely, but he could have.
What I’m seeking is something obscure and powerful—something he wouldn’t be expecting.
If I can find it in these books, I think we stand a chance against him.”
“What spell are you looking for?”
“You’ll see.”
“What do you want from me tonight?”
She told me.
I felt Jennifer’s hand curve around my waist.
“But that could kill him.”
Alex agreed.
“It’s too big of a risk.”
“Not if the spell works,” Paisley said.
“But even if it doesn’t, all of this is a risk.
Seth knows that.
I think he’d agree that this has to happen.
If he wants Jim to live, at some point he’ll need to stand up to Darien and unfortunately also to Anna.”
“I told you I’d do anything to help Jim.
Even if it meant risking my own life.”
I looked at Alex and Jennifer.
“I’d do the same for each of you.”
“Then it’s settled,” Paisley said.
“Seth will do his part.
As for me, give me time.
I need to find that spell.”
*
*
*
At eight o’clock that evening, with the sun having set, Jennifer and Alex agreed to be sent well below ground in a special iron box Paisley hoped would protect them.
“Why iron?” Alex asked.
“Witches have a difficult time seeing through it.
For reasons I won’t bore you with, we also can’t cast spells through it, either.
The box also is on my property, which he’s been forbidden to enter.
But I’ll warn you right now—Darien’s unhinged.
There’s a chance that box might do nothing if he catches wind of it.
If he wanted to, he could send one of his witches here to dig it up, force it open and take you with them.
I don’t think that will happen, but you need to know that it could.
I’ve thought a lot about this and I think it’s the best way to protect you.”
I went over to Jennifer and kissed her.
She reached up and put her arms around my neck.
“Stay focused,” she said.
“We all believe in you.
Alex and I will be pulling for you, Paisley and everyone else.
Take them out for Jim and come back safe.
I want that date.”
After Paisley transported them into the box, she joined me and her coven in the mansion’s entryway.
“If we don’t succeed tonight, if we don’t keep those witches away from Seth while he tries to kill Darien, our friend, Jim, will die by midnight.
That’s a certainty we can’t allow to happen,” she said.
“Some of you might die tonight, but all of you, with the exception of Seth, at least know what we’re up against.
You’ve been here before.
All of us know that anything could happen.
Before we leave, I need to know that you’re with me.”
With feeling, everyone said, “Yes.”
“From what I sense, he now has gathered an army of just over one hundred.
We are fifty-six.
But we’re talented, we’re smart and we’re quick.
Earlier, while I was looking through the books, I came upon a handful of spells that I’ve never seen Darien use in any fight.
We all have them now and if they work, they’ll give us an edge in battle.
But don’t be fooled—Darien is smart.
He’s already done the same thing.
We need to be prepared for whatever he and his coven throw at us.
And since we have fewer people, we need to be aware that tonight we’re especially vulnerable.”
But then Paisley stopped and held up a finger.
She had a mischievous look on her face when she shared with them the critical spell she came upon earlier.
“Will that work?” Edward asked.
“I have no idea.
We’ll know when I cast it.
If it does, the balance shifts in our favor.”
They all looked at one another.
Some looked concerned.
Others smiled.
She snapped her fingers and an old whisk broom appeared in her hand.
She sat on top of it and blew open the front doors.
To the room, she said, “If this is it for me, I’m going out in style.
See you at the cemetery.
I love you all.”
And then, with a flick of her braid, she soared off into the night.
As for the rest of us?
Edward stood in the center of the group, spun around so his cape touched each of us and, in a blinding flash, we were transported into war.