He doesn’t have to speak for me to know I’m right. It’s all in his eyes. “You need to leave. She’s calling him.”
My blood turns cold. “Him?”
He nods.
Nana was right—witches were involved after all. The betrayal cuts into me. How could the Blacks do this? The Curse goes so much deeper and darker than I could have ever imagined. And still I say, “But what about you?”
His brow pinches, as if he’s completely confused. “Huh?”
“It’s just . . . will she know you told us? Won’t you get in trouble?” I fiddle with my hair. Stupid boy, making me feel compassion for him.
“I’ll be fine, Josephine, but thanks for caring.” He smirks, and I regret giving him a second thought.
“Maybe I should make sure you have a good alibi, just in case.” Before I can think better of it, the magic pools into my hand and overflows. With one flick, Levi is on the floor convulsing from the shock. I smile, enjoying it far too much. “You couldn’t stop us from leaving, could you?”
He’s limp, only his chest moving up and down rapidly. “I hate you.”
“Good.” I motion to Maggie. “Let’s move.”
We run for the door, and once we’re out we don’t look back. I’d teleport right there, but I don’t want to risk them finding the way to our house through magical remnants. We need to get some distance first. I speed away, and Maggie keeps her eyes on the road behind us, silent with terror.
“Do you see anything?” I ask every five minutes.
“No,” she whispers. “Not yet.”
Everything seems worse in the silence—how stupid we were to think that Sylvia would help, how close we came to being Cursed and sucked dry, and how the only reason we’re alive is Levi. Being indebted to him is not my favorite place to be.
By some miracle, we make it all the way back to Dublin without so much as a flicker of threat. Which is probably Levi’s doing, though I try to pretend it isn’t. Once the car is checked back in, we find the closest deserted alley and teleport back to my house.
The apothecary is empty when we arrive. In fact, the entire first floor is dark, save the glow coming from the living room and its glorious TV.
“Nana?” I call, though she can’t possibly be watching television.
“She went to her room,” my dad says. “How did things go?”
“Not as planned,” I say, rushing up the stairs. I hope she’s not writing more letters, because obviously that got us a lot of nothing. I open her door without knocking, and the world crumbles beneath me.
Black blood. On the floor. The sheets. Her quivering lips.
TWENTY-NINE
“Josephine,” Nana says, her voice partially garbled from what I can only assume is more blood. I can’t move. I’m not even sure I’m breathing. All I can do is stare at her while everything clicks into place. I knew something was wrong the day we cured my father—felt it deep in my bones—but I never thought it would be this.
Everything makes sense now. She let Kat know about witchcraft so I’d have someone to talk to. She allowed my father to stay so I’d still have a parent to care for me. She kept Maggie here because she was losing her power. She stopped harassing me about Winn because she knew I’d need someone with comforting arms to hold me when . . .
I lean on the wall, my knees threatening to give out. This can’t be happening. It doesn’t matter who else I have. How am I supposed to go on without her?
“It had to be this way,” she says. I still can’t get my lips to move, and she squirms in the silence like I usually do in hers. “I was careless, my child, hungry for revenge. When that shadow man appeared . . . I did what I had to do to make sure you survive.”
Of course she sacrificed herself. I put my hand to my mouth, that moment taking on all new meaning.
She runs a shaky hand through her long, white hair. “I hoped the dagger and my magic would be enough to stop it entirely, but the Curse was far more insidious than I dared to imagine. The purity of that weapon wasn’t enough, and it transferred to me.”
I can’t look at her anymore, the image too familiar and horrible to handle. So I pull my knees in and put my head to them. Something pokes my skin, and I put my hand to it.
Mom’s pendant.
I pull it from my pocket, rubbing it with my thumb over and over. She used to wear it all the time, though it wasn’t for any spell that I knew of. She loved the look of it, I suppose. It is beautiful, a never-ending storm swirling inside. Thank goodness I didn’t give this up to our enemy. They’ve already taken so much.
“I’m not afraid to die,” Nana says.
“Oh, that’s good to know.” Finally the tears burst through, hot on my cold cheeks. “I’m so glad that you’re not afraid to die! That’s makes everything all better.”
“Josep—”
“You should have told me!” I yell. “We’ve wasted all this time trying to fight our hunters when we should have been trying to cure you.”
She purses her lips. “We know very well that I can’t be cured.”
I stand. “No. We don’t. Levi was at the Blacks’ house, Nana—he told me they’re the ones who created his kind and therefore the Curse. Now that we know where it comes from and what it really does, there has to be a way to stop the guy who Cursed you.”
Nana shakes her head. “We don’t have time. Whoever this man is, he is taking all he can from me as fast as he can. I assume in order to get to you and our land. All we can do now is protect you, the house, and hope he can’t break through.”
“No!” I gasp between sobs. “I’m not letting you die!”
She gives me that look, like I’m being completely unreasonable.
“I’ll kill him first. Killing him has to break it.”
“Even if you could, we still don’t know which of these men Cursed me.”
“Levi does. I could find him again. He wanted to help us—”
“No!” Her gaze turns angry. “You are not leaving the barrier, and he is too dangerous to trust. It’s not worth the—”
“Don’t you dare say it’s not worth the risk.” I ball my fists, so close to losing it that all I can do is believe there’s another option. I can’t do this without her. I can’t be head of house at seventeen. I can’t be the only Hemlock on the entire planet. “Your life is just as important as mine—you know I don’t have a chance at survival without you.”
Her dark eyes water. “You do not give yourself enough credit, my dear.”
“If I have so much talent, then why are you giving up?”
She leans back on the headboard. “I can’t lose you. I already failed Carmina . . . my sweet, strong, beautiful Carmina. Josephine, don’t let me die worrying that you’ll follow.”
What little resolve I have left is gone. My face crumbles into sorrow as I rush to her bed. She puts her hand on my head, and I cry into her bony shoulder. Heaving, painful sobs that reach deep and far. Even the house groans, as if it shares our misery.
This is too close to another horrible day in my life. A morning and afternoon sitting by a bedside, then a night spent lying next to my mother, wide awake in fear that she’d stop breathing the moment I closed my eyes. I still remember the feel of her fingers going limp on my back, how I could sense her leaving. I cried like I am now.
“It’s not fair,” I say.
“I know.” Nana continues running her hand over my hair, and I feel like a child but I don’t know what else to be right now. I wish I could go back in time and stop everything from happening. I wish my mom were here, so she could be in charge instead of me, so we could move on like we’re supposed to, so we could sit on the couch together and reminisce about Nana and her pudding.