Sorceress (16 page)

Nadia could imagine no worse fate for herself. But if she could save Mateo—make the One Beneath spare his life as the price of her demonhood—then it was what she had to do. She had nothing else left to give.

From a distance, Elizabeth watched Nadia leave her house. So determined, so sure. Elizabeth smiled, then walked inside.

First she stepped to the back room, simply to look at her Book of Shadows. It had known just what to show Nadia Caldani; once again, it had served as an extension of her will. “I think you could almost live without me,” she murmured as she bent to stroke along the book’s spine with two fingers, the same way one might touch a pet.

Then she went to her battered chest of drawers. The only sounds were the creaking and scraping of the old drawer as she opened it, and the endless pattering of rain through cracks, onto the floor or into one of the small bowls Nadia had set around to catch leaks.
Imagine, worrying about something as trivial as puddles of rain.

Elizabeth’s hand closed over the bones of the Cabots. They were dusty with age, feather light. She curled her fingers into a fist, crushingly tight, and felt the bones crack into powder.

Holding her fist over one of the bowls on the floor, she opened her fingers; the bone dust fell into it, turning the water yellow-gray. Then Elizabeth took the bowl in both hands, lifted it to her lips, and drank. The bitter grit scratched her throat all the way down.

There
. Elizabeth rose, re-energized. She pulled her power around her like a cloak, swirling and dark—and instantly the world around her shifted. Now she stood on the edge of the main highway that led to Captive’s Sound. The storm rumbled above her as she laughed.

Nadia was coming to this exact place. Elizabeth had been right behind her, and ahead of her, all along.

It took all Mateo’s willpower not to go see his dad.

Swearing himself over as a demon wouldn’t kill him instantly, or even soon; Asa had explained that much. At first, he’d carry on much as he had before. He wouldn’t join the One Beneath in the demonic realm until he died.
(Which, granted, could be really soon. But he didn’t let himself think about that too long.) He’d have to say good-bye to Dad sometime soon. But not yet.

As they’d arranged, Asa came to his house to pick him up. When Mateo opened the door, he frowned. “You look terrible.”

Asa’s skin seemed ashen; his dark eyes were dull. He hunched slightly as he stood on Mateo’s stoop, like he had stomach cramps. But his smile was as bright as ever. “We’ve all had better days, haven’t we? Well. I assume I have. Can’t precisely recall.”

You won’t even remember being happy. You’ll forget Dad, and Mom—and Nadia . . .

If forgetting her was the price of saving her, then he had to pay it. Mateo zipped up his coat. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The late Jeremy Prasad’s sports car was exponentially nicer than any other vehicle Mateo had ever ridden in. Something about the comfort of it—the incline of the soft leather seats, the perfect clarity of the stereo sound—well, it seemed slightly surreal, and more unnerving than luxurious. Like he was in the first-class suite of that plane in
Inception
and Leonardo DiCaprio was about to screw with his head. “Where are we going?”

“You tell me, at this point.” Asa kept staring resolutely ahead at the road, like he was afraid he’d lose his way. “We need to go to the place where you first met Nadia.”

“Why there? It’s just a stretch of road on the outskirts of town.”

“You’re doing this to free Nadia. Your vow takes its strength from your love for her. So the vow will be strongest at a place that’s significant to you both. Where better than the place you first met?”

He could think of a couple of other possibilities, but their first meeting was a good choice. He’d never been able to drive along that section of road again without flashing back to that first moment, the way he’d held his hand out for hers. Besides, out there they’d be far away from any potential witnesses or interruptions.

Nothing would stop him. Nothing would stand in the way.

He settled back in the seat. “Head north.”

Nadia walked north.

The vow would be strongest where she’d met Mateo. That, or at his house, where they’d spent so many hours curled together in each other’s arms—but going there was impossible. So, back to the place on the roadside where they’d first met.

This was where her family had first driven into Captive’s Sound, and where they had collided with the magical barrier Elizabeth had erected around the town. When Nadia’s Book of Shadows had passed through that barrier, Elizabeth had been warned of the presence of a new witch—and their car had gone off the road into a ditch.

Rain beat down on the hood of her coat as Nadia trudged on. That night, she’d been so terrified, both of the darkness
ahead and for her family. Dad had bruised his ribs, and poor little Cole had screamed and screamed. Although her father had managed to fish Cole out of their overturned car, Nadia had been knee-deep in water before she looked up and saw Mateo.

His visions had brought him to her side; he’d known her before they ever met. Mateo’s first act had been to save her life.

She remembered the warmth of his hand closing over hers.

I’m going to return the favor, Mateo,
Nadia swore as she headed down the road, ignoring the wet legs of her jeans and the shivers racking her body.
You saved me for a little while, at least. Now I have to be the one who saves you.

Elizabeth had already cast her spell of opacity, which would hide Mateo and Nadia from each other’s sight. Such spells only worked for a few minutes, particularly when the two people knew and loved one another as they did. A few minutes would be sufficient.

She could shape the external circumstances to time Nadia’s vow. Asa would be able to do the same for Mateo.

Do you see how I serve you, beloved lord?
Elizabeth knelt in the mud, feeling the cold muck ooze around her knees. She longed to sink into it, to be one with the world the One Beneath would shatter, if only to feel His power so completely
. I am giving you everything you ever wanted. Everything I am.

The magical barrier around town—Nadia had told Mateo about it before, but even with his Steadfast power he could barely see it. It was hardly more than a faint greenish glow, flickering in and out within the rain.

Asa’s demonic ability must have allowed him to see it, too, because he pulled the car right up to it without any guidance from Mateo; they were parked just short of the line. “Here we go.”

Mateo hesitated. “What else do we have to do?”

“I told you there was no elaborate ceremony.” Asa acted as though he were bored, though obviously he wasn’t; he still looked weird, no matter how lazily he spoke. “Chant if you feel like it. Make up some words, use the lyrics from ‘Single Ladies,’ whatever. Knock yourself out. But there’s no ritual here. Just stand at the place where you met her, call in your soul to the One Beneath, and tell Him you’re giving Him your service as a demon in return for Nadia’s freedom. That’s all.”

One deep breath—and Mateo stepped out of the car.

On the night of the crash, the first night Nadia had met Mateo, the ditches on either side of this road had been partly filled with water. Now, however, they were full almost to the brim, on the verge of overflowing and flooding the road.

It wasn’t necessary to jump back in. Just to stand here, and remember.

Her eyes filled with tears. She stood there on the road where they’d met and thought of how she’d first seen him
that night—illuminated by lightning, so beautiful she’d hardly been able to believe he was real. It seemed impossible to Nadia that someone so perfect had ever been hers.

Asa had never hated himself as much as he did at this instant.

He was betraying people he had come to care about—against his will, and yet . . . He was helping Elizabeth do something for the One Beneath, a deed both dark and cruel. And he had begun to realize that his sister, the long-ago girl he’d nearly forgotten, would never have wanted him to become something like this. Not for the sake of vengeance.

Hadn’t it been for something else, too? Asa could no longer recall. But he knew he would never have made this bargain if he’d known then what he knew now: that he would become a slave, and be denied even the memory of his sister’s face.

Mateo braced his shoulders, about to speak. Nadia wasn’t quite ready yet. “Now,” Elizabeth whispered.

He brought his hands together, stopping time for Mateo—but not for Nadia. In this swift instant, she wouldn’t even perceive the momentary lapse in the rain.

Neither Mateo or Nadia was capable of seeing each other, thanks to Elizabeth’s spell. They were now prepared to vow at almost the exact same instant.

Before he brought his hands back together, Asa muttered to Elizabeth, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Even a little?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Shame is useless. Best left behind.”

Mateo’s hands curled into fists in his coat pockets. Into the rain, staring into the dark, he said, “You need more demons. You could use one here and now. If you will allow Nadia her freedom—her ability to walk away from your service—then you can have my service instead. I’ll bear the curse and do your will forever.”

Nadia’s tears mingled with the rain as she whispered, “I’ll be more than your Sorceress. I’ll be your demon. Spare Mateo’s life, and every power of darkness I’ll possess will be yours. I’ll belong to you.”

At the same moment, they whispered the words, “I swear.”

Lightning split the sky. Nadia screamed—the bolt had come so close she could smell the ozone. Its light seemed to linger longer than the strike itself—or the night wasn’t as dark as she’d thought it was—and suddenly she could fully see her surroundings. The car parked in the middle of the road, motor running, headlights shining brightly though she’d never glimpsed them before. Sitting across from her, on the other side of the ditch, was Elizabeth, who wore a wicked grin. Asa stood at Elizabeth’s side; he looked terrible.

Next to Nadia was Mateo.

“What are you doing here?” he said. “Did—did I bring you here?”

That wasn’t even possible, unless . . .

Nadia turned back to Elizabeth. “What did you do?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Nothing you didn’t want to do on your own. You both chose freely. We only influenced the timing.”

The timing? But then it sank in to Nadia. Mateo had made some kind of vow on his own. What? “Mateo’s safe,” she said desperately. “He has to be. My vow did that much.”

Mateo didn’t look grateful or happy. He looked stunned. “Oh, no,” he whispered.

“You’re one step ahead, Mateo,” Asa said. “For once.”

“I swore myself to the One Beneath for you,” Mateo said. “As a demon. So you’d be free.”

“I swore myself to Him as a demon! So you’d survive!” The horror of it splintered within Nadia like shattering glass, shredding her from the inside out. “And you’d just set me free, but I swore myself to Him again—”

Elizabeth had used their love for each other against them. Now they were both enslaved. Both lost. They had given up everything for each other, and yet for nothing. The very lives they’d tried to protect for each other—they’d given away.

“The One Beneath will have His own purposes for you,” Elizabeth said to Nadia. “But you, Mateo—I’ve taken you for my own. At first I was collecting the bones of your ancestors in case I needed to intensify your curse, but your foresight hasn’t been that much help to Nadia, has it? So I still had the bones. I consumed them. They are part of my body now, which means you will serve me as my demon, chained to me in whatever realm I walk, for all eternity.”

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. And yet Nadia knew this was all real.

Mateo’s voice had begun to shake. “You lied to us.”

“This is the truth,” Elizabeth replied, smiling.

In a rage, Mateo leaped over the ditch and tackled Asa against a tree. “You tricked me!” he shouted. “You used me!”

“I didn’t have any choice!” Asa yelled back. His expression was set. “I serve the One Beneath. I can’t help it. As you’re both about to discover.”

We’re lost
, Nadia thought, looking helplessly toward Mateo.
They’ve already won.

AT LEAST THERE WAS NO MORE REASON FOR THEM TO BE
apart.

Nadia lay curled in Mateo’s embrace as they lay in front of the fireplace in his house. Mr. Perez was out helping with relief efforts, so they could be alone together in their mutual desolation.

“What did it matter, what happened to me?” Mateo whispered, his breath warm against the back of her neck. He spooned her, both of them lying in near-fetal positions, numbed with shock.

“I wanted to give you a chance.”

He kissed her shoulder again. “I just mean—didn’t you know I’d want to be the one to sacrifice for you? To give up everything so you’d be safe?”

As her eyes welled, her view of the fire blurred, orange and yellow swimming and streaking, as hot as her tears.
“Didn’t you know I’d feel the same way about you?”

They weren’t arguing; they had no anger left for that. Nadia remained in both horror and awe. Mateo had sworn himself as a demon, just as she had. He had given himself to the forces of hell forever, knowing what that really meant—and yet he had done it because he thought it might help her.

She shuddered. Mateo hugged her more closely, and she closed her eyes. If she concentrated hard, maybe she could forget the rest of the world. Maybe she could feel nothing but his arm around her, anchoring her against his body. Maybe nothing farther away than Mateo even existed, except for the fire.

I was scared he wanted the darkness in me
, she thought.
Or that the darkness in me wanted him.
That seemed so stupid now. Of course Mateo had loved her darkness, because he loved all of her, all her shades and shadows. He accepted her completely, just as she accepted him. Why hadn’t she understood that?

Mateo whispered, “It’s just so unfair—”

“You can’t think about that.” Nadia turned over to face Mateo, took his face in one hand. “If we start thinking about how they’ve cheated us, it’s going to . . . block out everything else. I feel like, if I think about it, really think about it, I’ll start screaming and I’ll never stop.”

Just when the anger might have taken her over anyway, Mateo pressed his lips to her forehead. Some of the tension in her limbs relaxed, and once again she breathed in the scent of him and tried to forget the rest of the world.

His hands wound through her rain-damp hair. They
kissed, softly, but Nadia felt the heat of it in every inch of her body.

“At least—” The cold comfort was difficult to force from her lips. “At least if we both have to go to hell, we’ll be together there. Forever.”

“Stop it.” Mateo rolled her over onto her back, suddenly forceful. “Stop talking like it’s all over, because it’s not. It can’t be over. Maybe He’s going to drag me down to the demonic realm, because I can’t get out of that. But you can. You’re going to survive, Nadia. You’re going to win. If you have to cast the same spells Elizabeth cast to stay around for hundreds of years, then you do it, do you hear me? He can’t turn you into a demon if you’re still alive, so figure out how to live forever. You do whatever it takes.” His voice shook with emotion. “You will win. Someday, it’s going to happen. I don’t know if it’s a week from now or a thousand years, but
you will win
.”

Nadia knew how long the odds were, even more than Mateo did or could. But when she saw the intensity of the conviction in his eyes, she believed. She had to believe.

He gives me back my faith
, she thought.
He gives me back myself.

Mateo looked down at her, his arms framing either side of her body, as he whispered, “Let them drag me down to hell. I’ll fight for you even there. So you can’t give up. You can never give up.”

Giving up felt—like a luxury. Like it would be so easy, such a relief, to just let it all go and give in. But as she framed
Mateo’s face with her hands, she knew she would never surrender. “Never give up,” she whispered, and then she kissed him.

They’d made out before. Done more than that. But Nadia had always stopped them just short of making love. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Mateo, or that she didn’t want him. She’d wanted him almost since the moment she’d seen him. Still, she had wanted to wait for a time when they weren’t in danger. Not fighting for their lives and souls. She’d wanted a time when they were free. Then all the worry and fear would be gone. Then she and Mateo could come together in total joy.

Now Nadia knew that day would never come.

With shaking fingers, she peeled his T-shirt up his lean torso; Mateo helped her, shrugging the shirt away so that his tan, muscular chest was laid bare to her. Then she got rid of her shirt, too.

Mateo pulled her against him, and the warmth of skin against skin made her gasp. “Are you sure?” he whispered between kisses.

Nadia pulled him closer, winding her arms and legs around him to keep him close. “Very, very sure.”

The eighteenth harassment call of the night drove Uncle Dave over the edge. “First off, our little girl is not a witch!” he shouted into the phone receiver, as Verlaine curled into a ball on the couch and Uncle Gary embraced her protectively. “Second, calling people late at night and just making weird
noises isn’t doing anything to help the people of Captive’s Sound. Finally, did you forget that such a thing as caller ID exists,
Nancy McGinley
?” He paused, then gave Verlaine and Uncle Gary a small, tight smile. “She hung up. Big shock there, huh?”

“I’m so sorry,” Verlaine repeated. “I don’t know why everyone focused on me all of a sudden.”

She did know, of course—but it wasn’t like she could explain the reason to her dads.

“They’re not only focused on you,” Uncle Gary said, surprising her. “Yesterday morning, several people were whispering about Lorraine Calloway, and someone was even talking crazy about Faye Walsh, your guidance counselor. I was going to set them straight about gossiping when that fracas broke out around you.”

Uncle Dave shook his head as he paced the floor, neatly stepping over Smuckers, who napped unconcerned in the middle of their living room. “It’s like people have gone insane. Not that the sanity level in Captive’s Sound was ever sky high. But seriously? Witchcraft? People believe in witchcraft now?”

Verlaine was trying to think of something suitably innocuous to say when Uncle Gary cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s impossible.”

She turned to stare at him; so did Uncle Dave, who said, “Gary, what are you talking about?”

Uncle Gary held up his hands, as though in surrender. “You know I know Verlaine’s not mixed up in any of this
crazy stuff. But let’s be realistic, okay? What’s been happening in town these past few months . . . it’s not right.”

It’s not just superstition and fear talking
, Verlaine realized.
It’s also common sense. I mean, anyone would have to know by now, wouldn’t they?

Uncle Dave remained deep in denial. “I’m the first to admit that Captive’s Sound has had a stretch of bad luck. You don’t want to see what’s happened to our property values. Still, we’re talking about rain.” He gestured at the television set, currently tuned to Weather TV; onscreen was the once-chipper meteorologist, wearing hip waders as he gave his report from the raging river that had been Clark Boulevard. The wind buffeted the weather guy so hard that he had to hang onto a street sign to stay upright. Apparently Uncle Dave felt this proved his point. “See, rain isn’t magic. It’s just rain.”

“It’s more than rain,” Uncle Gary said. His voice was quieter. “Have you forgotten the sinkholes? What happened to Verlaine, when she wound up in the hospital? Or the weird fever that put me in the hospital? When I was unconscious—mostly I was just, you know, out of it, but every once in a while I felt like I was watching something . . . dark and terrible. Like movement behind a curtain, and if I pulled that curtain aside I’d see something I never wanted to see.”

The One Beneath
, Verlaine realized. He had nearly revealed Himself to Uncle Gary while he lay unconscious and helpless. He’d come that close to devouring her dad’s soul and his life. Why did she have to keep this secret? Why did she
have to keep lying to the only people who really loved her?

You know, it’s not like the First Laws of the Craft actually apply to me. I’m not a witch!

“It’s true,” Verlaine said. “There is such a thing as witchcraft.”

Uncle Dave frowned like he thought Verlaine had lost her mind. Uncle Gary took her hands. “Oh, sweetheart. Were you dabbling? You can tell us. We won’t be angry.”

“No! No dabbling. I mean, I don’t even have the power in the first place. But Nadia does.”

“Nadia Caldani?” Uncle Dave said. “You think your best friend is a witch?”

“I know she is. We more or less met when she levitated the land yacht out of a ditch.”

“Levitation?” Uncle Gary whispered, looking deeply freaked out. Verlaine squeezed his hands right back.

“She can do tons of stuff. Forecast the future, at least a little bit, and cast protective spells, and change the currents of the water—” Except the last time Nadia had done that, Verlaine had very nearly gotten killed. Which had been a total accident! Still, maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned it. She plowed on. “Nadia’s not the reason any of this is happening. She’s a good witch.”

Uncle Gary didn’t look one bit reassured. “Like Glinda?”

“Fewer poufy pink ball gowns, more designer jeans, but same basic idea,” Verlaine said. “The Wicked Witch of the West is Elizabeth Pike.”

“Oh, come on.” Uncle Dave started to laugh. “You’ve
always liked her! Everyone does.”

“Elizabeth’s a peach,” Uncle Gary agreed.

Verlaine shook her head, laughing even though she wanted to scream. “That’s just one of Elizabeth’s tricks, making people think they like her. You don’t have any idea what she really is.”

Uncle Gary’s arm went around her shoulders, an embrace meant to soothe. “Sweetheart, we believe you about the witchcraft—”

“I never said that,” Uncle Dave interjected.

“—but we can’t fall into the trap,” Uncle Gary continued as though Uncle Dave hadn’t even spoken. “Times like these scare people. We’re dealing with something beyond anything we’ve ever seen before, you know? So we suspect our friends and neighbors. We turn on one another instead of coming together. That’s why you’re thinking these strange thoughts about Elizabeth, and why other people are thinking strange thoughts about you.”

“No, I know the truth about Elizabeth. You have to believe me.” Verlaine stood up from the sofa. She wanted to shake them—just to make them see—but she didn’t want to shake them because she loved them. How was she supposed to get through to them? Maybe Nadia could come over and do a demo, like levitate the cat or something. No, that wouldn’t work, not with Nadia cutting herself off from everyone, plus it would freak Smuckers out. Would they believe Faye Walsh, maybe? Or Mateo?

Not Mateo—they’ll think he’s just gone crazy from the Cabot Curse . . .

As she thought this, however, the images on the television set, which had been only blurs to her before, suddenly demanded her attention. Verlaine gaped as she saw Weather TV’s view of the town square . . . with the columns collapsing under the portico of the town hall.

“Oh, my God.” Uncle Dave grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

Now they could hear the meteorologist say, “—apparently a meeting was being held inside—can’t confirm that at this time—but buildings are beginning to be washed away by the flooding here in tiny Captive’s Sound, Rhode Island. We repeat, this is coming to you live—”

Uncle Gary was already on his feet. “We have to get down there. Try to help out.”

“Half the people in town who run relief efforts would’ve been in that meeting.” Uncle Dave ran for his raincoat, or car keys—probably both, Verlaine realized. “Let’s move.”

She had already grabbed her smartphone, thinking
Live footage first, interviews later
, when she remembered what had happened the last time she tried to cover a story. All those angry faces, the shouts, the hands grabbing at her, pushing her down . . .

Uncle Gary took her hand. “Sweetheart, maybe you should stay put. Just until people calm down.”

“No. I won’t hide. If I do, then it’s—it’s like I’m admitting I’m guilty.” Verlaine squared her shoulders. She had no intention of hiding while the actual guilty party, aka one Miss Elizabeth Pike, got to run around town doing whatever she wanted. “We’re wasting time. Come on. Let’s go.”

The roads had turned into rivers.

Verlaine stood on the roof of her dads’ car. They’d parked on one of the slopes leading down toward the square, a couple of blocks away from the worst of the flooding. She intended to stay back—at least, until her dads were too involved in the relief efforts to notice her. But even from here, the view was terrifying.

As rain lashed her trench coat (combined with a fedora for a vaguely Carmen Sandiego effect), Verlaine used two fingers on her touch screen to zoom in. Now the video fully showed the square more than two feet deep in water, churned by a current strong enough to whip white foam around every sign or tree it met. Although her field of vision was narrow, Verlaine could make out part of the line of oversize vehicles—garbage trucks, fire trucks, and even a school bus—that stretched from the road by the coffee shop to what remained of the town hall.

By now three of the five front columns had fallen. The remnants of the portico roof hung on by a few rafters; the large beams of wood swayed like slender tree branches in the wind. Water flowed through the front doors, which had either been opened or torn away by the flood. Atop the heavy vehicles stood a human chain of people—her dads among them—who were helping the shaken escapees climb down from an open second-floor window. From there, each person was passed along the chain, hanging on to hands to steady them; that steadying was necessary, because the
current was strong enough to rock even the fire truck. If the waters rose much higher, the trucks could be washed out of the line or even overturned.

They’re so scared
, she thought, watching one woman stand there trembling, unwilling to take the long step or short jump that would get her to the next vehicle in line.
They’re right to be scared.