Charmed (22 page)

A
unt Penny takes one look at my face and the book clutched in my hands before she goes into evacuation mode.

“Store’s closed, everybody out!” she yells. The Halloween shoppers packed into the Black Cat gape at her like she’s crazy. She whirls around the counter, snatches a package of bath salts from the customer considering it, and dumps it back on the shelf.

“Come on, get moving!” She gives a teen a shove toward the door. He hurls an insult at her as he stumbles out. The rest of the customers start to follow suit, grumbling and sending annoyed looks at my aunt.

“You too,” she says to Jessie.

Two big red circles bloom on her cheeks. She’s already started for the door when I grab her wrist. “She can stay.”

Aunt Penny starts to argue, but I level her with a glare. She huffs and turns her energy back to kicking out the stragglers who haven’t gotten the hint yet.

Jessie gives me a small smile of gratitude—I just hope I made the right decision.

When the last customer is out the door, Aunt Penny flips the dead bolt and turns off the neon Open sign. And then she turns to me.

“Tell me.”

I look over at Bishop. He’s casually leaning against the big front window, but I can tell by the way he’s flicking his jacket zipper that he’s as anxious about our discovery as I am.

“Jessie found something.” I hand Aunt Penny the book. “The third paragraph.”

She brings the red leather book close to her face, her lips moving as her eyes dart over the words. I pace the store while she reads, wiping my damp palms on my pants.

“I don’t get it,” she says, looking up.

“Child sacrifice,” I say. “A hole—a portal—between dimensions. All Hallows’ Eve.”

Her face pales. She reads the passage again. I want to tell her not to bother—the words aren’t going to change the more times she reads them. I’ve already tried.

The setting sun spills orange-pink light through the window. Why didn’t we find that passage six hours ago? There’s not enough time. It’s all happening too fast.

“This could explain everything,” Aunt Penny says. “They could have just kidnapped the teens, but they went to all the effort of mind-wiping them too. Maybe it’s because they’re trying to replicate this spell as closely as possible. Maybe they want
willing
sacrifices, like this kid in the story.”

I press a hand to my temple. “Sure, there are witches and warlocks in Los Demonios, but the Family’s been dumping the Priory’s best sorcerers in there for decades. The place is jam-packed with them. If they get out, they’ll be more powerful than the Family—than anyone on the planet. Nothing will stop them from killing anyone they want.”

Every time I think things couldn’t possibly get worse, they do.

“What do we do?”

All three of us spin around at the sound of Jessie’s voice. She’s been so quiet that I’d almost forgotten she was here. She has her hands balled at her sides and her jaw thrust up as if ready to challenge Aunt Penny should she try to kick her out again.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if this is happening tonight, we don’t have time to waste. Yes, it’s horrible, but what are we going to do about it?”

“She’s right,” Bishop says. “We’ve got to get there right away. We don’t know how long we’ll be out before we wake up, and if it’s longer than a few hours…” He shrugs. He doesn’t have to say “It could be too late.”

“We need to do the spell again,” I announce. “The amplification spell.” Though my magic finally returned after its disappearance following the spell, I would still be nothing against the sorcerers in Los Demonios at its regular strength.

“We don’t have time,” Bishop says.

“But I can’t go back there like this! I’ll be useless.”

“I’ll go alone then,” Bishop says.

“You don’t know the place. You need me.”

“Then we go together.”

Aunt Penny closes her eyes. It’s quiet for a long moment, and I know what we’re all thinking. That we’re in way over our heads. That it’s a stupid, reckless plan that will probably end badly. But also that we’ll do it anyway for a chance to save those kids. And then Bishop claps his hands and breaks the spell.

“All right. So when do we leave?”

Jessie’s the one who came up with the backpack idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. My clothes and everything in my pockets got to come with me into Los Demonios, and my big, fancy plan to get Paige back
involved clinging to her when the horrible headache came on—so why not take a backpack and cram it full of goodies?

We’ve filled it with rolls of gauze and medical tape for wounds—which God, I don’t even want to think about—plus pain pills and weapons for me, since I still haven’t mastered conjuring objects yet. I want to protest out of pride, but the truth is, I really could use something to defend myself with in that place.

I pull the backpack over my shoulders and look at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of my closet door. The backpack combined with my black tank, short shorts optimal for running, and combat boots makes me look like Lara Croft in
Tomb Raider
.

“How do you feel?” Jessie asks.

Nervous. Scared shitless. Like I’m about to go to battle with hundreds of powerful sorcerers, including my dad. “Good,” I say. “I feel ready.”

“That’s great,” she says.

Someone clears their throat. I spin around and find Bishop standing in the doorway. He’s got his hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of his head, with a few pieces hanging loose in the back and around the Betty Boop tattoo peeking out from his collar. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and black cargo pants tucked into lace-up combat boots.

“We’re wearing matching outfits,” I say. “This is sad.”

“I kind of like it.” He gives me a wolfish grin as he crosses over to me.

He tugs me against him. His dark eyes burn into mine, and I can tell before his lips touch mine that it’s not going to be some sweet, romantic kiss. His lips crush against mine. I moan into his mouth, a thrill passing into my stomach.

“Hello, I’m still here.”

Jessie’s voice snaps me back to reality. I start to pull away, but Bishop takes my head in his hands and keeps kissing me, softer this time, his fingers brushing through my hair and trailing along the back of my neck, cupping my cheek and smoothing over my jaw, as if he’s memorizing my face, as if he might never kiss me again and wants to remember everything about the way this feels. And then he presses his forehead against mine. The ghost of his wood-and-mint taste fills my mouth as his dark eyes penetrate mine, his chest rising and falling quickly as he takes me in. I wish I could stay like this forever.

And then he lets go.

Aunt Penny is waiting for us downstairs.

“We’re ready,” I announce.

“Almost.” She holds out her hand. Two necklaces made of braided leather dangle from her fingers. I grab them and hand one to Bishop. A little wooden box splashed with red paint and inscribed on all sides with symbols I don’t understand hangs from the leather.

“It’s a protection amulet,” Aunt Penny explains. “It’s mostly folklore, and any sorcerer with a lick of talent can overpower it, but I thought you should wear it anyway.”

“Thank you,” I gush. I pull the necklace around my neck, turning so that Aunt Penny can do up the clasp. The box feels heavy on my collarbone, already making me feel safer just by its presence.

When I turn back around, there are tears in Aunt Penny’s eyes. She gives me a melancholy smile. I pull her into a hug, and she breaks down, sobbing against my neck.

“Oh, Aunt Penny,” I say, pressing down her hair. “This isn’t goodbye. I’m going to come back.”

We both know it may be a lie, that there’s no way I can be sure of that. She sucks in a shuddery breath.

“I know. I know that. It’s just—” She pulls back, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. She gives a self-conscious laugh. “I worry about you, you know? I know it’s been only a little while since I’ve become your legal guardian, but I just feel like in that time I’ve become sort of, you know…”

“Like a second mom,” I finish. She gives me a weak smile. I pull her into a hug again. “I love you, Aunt Penny.”

“And I love you,” she whispers. “Your mom would have been so proud of you.”

I feel my breath hitch in my chest. We hold each other for so long that Bishop clears his throat. We break the hug.

“We better get going,” I say. “It’s getting late.”

“Just one last thing.” She disappears into the kitchen and comes back a moment later. She shoves a handful of bills into my hands.

“What’s this?”

“I want to pay for it. No more taking money out of your college savings for these trips.”

“You knew?” I ask, heat staining my cheeks.

“I knew that you were using it for something,” she says. “I kind of hoped it was for booze and drugs.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Why didn’t you say something? I can’t take this. It’s too much.” I push the money back toward her, but she shoves it at me again.

“Just take it. You’re going to need your college fund for when you actually
go
to college. And besides, we do know a warlock who can conjure more for you.”

Tears sting my eyes. I can tell how much this means to her—the physical symbol that I’m coming back—so I pull off my backpack and stuff the money inside. I stand, hiking the bag back over my shoulder.

She hesitates, and I know exactly what’s going through her mind before she can get a word out.

“There’s nothing more you can do,” I say. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about.”

She gives me a wan smile. “Just…come back safe, okay? And bring Paige with you.”

I smile at her. “I will.”

I turn to Jessie, who has been watching the whole thing from the stairs with her sleeves pulled down over her hands. Looking at this girl, who has done so much to help and on so little information, who has put herself out there even
though I’ve done nothing but push her away, I can’t help but be reminded of Paige.

Chasing me around my house when we were kids, trying to get me to play dress-up with her. Jogging across the street at whatever ungodly hour it was that I interrupted her pajama party with Jessie, ready to help at the drop of a dime even though I’d been nothing but shitty to her for years. Looking up at me as Bishop flew with me in his arms, concern and fear stamped across her brow.