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The demon magic-traps me to the floor, my arms immobile. It runs a claw down the vein that snakes from my elbow to my wrist, cutting into my skin. I scream as my blood drips onto the carpet. This can’t happen. I won’t die—not like this.

I call on my magic while Mom’s cries surround me. It takes too long. I’m tired. There’s not enough strength in me to stop the demon.

What did Ellore say before?

Turn one thing into something else.

I look around the room, still unable to move. The demon’s talons curl around my mom’s neck, squeezing tighter as the blood drains from her. Crimson soaks her clothes and drips onto the floor in a puddle large enough to make me feel like I’m dying with her all over again.

Virtute angeli ad infernum unde venistis!” I say.

The demon looks at me, its orange eyes almost amused. He shuffles closer to me, dropping my mom on the ground with a sickening thud. Her blood creeps across the floor and mixes with mine. I wait until he’s close to the fire, and then I picture the salt. I picture it as fire, as rain, covering everything in the room and killing the demon.

It takes half a second for the fire in the room to transform into salt. Mounds and mounds of salt. It flies through the air, trails across the ground. The orange-eyed demon stares at the transformation and trips over my foot, falling into one of those mounds. He screams as the salt burns his flesh, and I yell the incantation again as loud as I can. “Virtute angeli ad infernum unde venistis!” Over and over until it’s all I can say, until my voice cracks and the demon explodes into pieces, hopefully back to hell.

As soon as he’s gone, the world around me fades into white again, and then black.

I wake up with Mrs. Bentham looking down at me. “She’s awake!” she yells across the room. Way to have a piercing shrill sound in my ear. Lovely to wake up to.

Ellore comes to me, an elixir in hand and a soft expression etched into her face. “You should probably rest this weekend,” Ellore says. “This will help you regain some of your strength more quickly.”

The elixir is this horrible shade of pea green. I turn up my nose, but she raises an eyebrow. I try not to gag as I gulp it down and she sits beside me. I look at her. What the hell kind of test was that? I’m about to ask just that when she smiles and pats my leg.

“I’m not officially supposed to say this,” she says. “But turning the fire into salt? I’ve never seen anyone do that. It was remarkable, Miss Grey.”

Remarkable. “Does that mean I passed?” I ask quickly. Ellore and Mrs. Bentham exchange looks.

“Miss Grey, your grandfather is outside to get you,” Mrs. Bentham says. I intake some air. They don’t speak, and I don’t know what it means. Have I failed somehow? All those years of work, all my access to clues on my magic and soon, my family. If I didn’t pass, then the only one I failed was the magic one. They must’ve figured it out, and now I’ll be labeled Static and sent away. I open my mouth to protest when she adds, “Don’t be late on Sunday.”

“Sunday?” I say, standing.

“Congratulations,” Ellore says, and as soon as the she does my lips break into a smile. I passed. I’m going to be Paired! Step one accomplished. I passed!

Outside, it’s late afternoon. The sun is a piercing heat, but I’m smiling. I am being Paired. I did it. I can’t believe it.

Pop is waiting, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

“Why?”

Pop looks confused for a second. “Connie called and said she had to leave. I guess the Reporting Unit resolved her nonexistent case quickly.” His voice was mixed with humor and warning. If this were another day there’d be a lecture about wasting people’s time. “She didn’t know if you’d finished yet.”

That’s why I couldn’t feel her magic. I’m so glad I had Carter come.

“I guess it was enough time, since I passed,” I say.

A smile breaks out on his face. “You passed? My little granddaughter is going to be an Enforcer.”

“I’m being Paired—I’m not there yet.”

“Almost. Nothing can stop you now,” he says. He seems happy. Really happy. I’m glad someone has my corner. “Except maybe your gran.”

Right. Gran. That should be loads of fun. She couldn’t stop it from happening, but I don’t want her to disapprove all my life. I want her support.

I open the car door when I see Carter’s fancy car on the other side of the parking lot. He’s closing the door, but I yell his name anyway. He doesn’t hear me. I’ll text him later and thank him to save him the trouble of just showing up. That thought makes my stomach drop.

“Ready to go home?” Pop asks.

“Can I say no?”

“No,” he says. Time to face the firing squad.

When we pull up outside the house I’ve built Gran’s reaction in my head to go off one of two ways. One: she will actually be excited, once the shock wears off, and may hug me and say congrats and offer to go dress shopping with me for the big Pairing celebration.

Or two (the more likely scenario): she will yell, throw a few things, give me a scolding about magic and powers and how dangerous this is, and stomp off in a frenzy because I never listen to her, which I must get from my father because my mother never

disobeyed. I’ve heard that one before, but Pop assures me that Mom never listened either.

Pop reaches out and grabs my hand now. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Is ‘fine’ the new term for nuclear?”

“She won’t go nuclear, Penelope.” I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe a little.”

I cross my arms and sigh. I should just stay in the car forever. I could rot and die and never have to face her.

“She’s scared, that’s all. You should understand it from your gran’s perspective. This is dangerous for you. It reminds her of Genevieve; you remind her of Genevieve. You are so much like her.”

I wish Mom could’ve been here today. I wish we talked about her more. If we did, then maybe Gran and I could work through all this. But Mom is one of those places Gran doesn’t go. It’s like Mom is this cloud of sadness that Gran’s afraid to penetrate or everything will explode into tiny pieces, like sadness is one of those things that has to be locked away before it consumes everything.

“Let’s go,” I say. I want to hear more from him about Mom, but Pop’s eyes are glassy and that freaks me out more than facing Gran. Before the front door opens I take one last breath of air, just in case it is my last one.

Gran stares at me, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn’t look angry, or sad, or anything. Her face is completely devoid of emotion. Which makes her terrifying.

She glances at Pop and back to me. “Will you excuse us? I’d like to talk to Penelope.”

Pop lingers in the kitchen, but it’s barely enough time for me to say his name before he’s gone. I’m left alone in the ocean and they’ve released the kraken.

“Sit, Penelope.” It’s not a request, so I don’t waste time. Gran looks at me from across the table. “This is what you want?”

That is not the question I expected. “Yes.”

“You know what it can cost you. Especially if the truth is revealed. Your status as witch, if you’re lucky. Your life with this family, and more, if you aren’t.”

I gulp and nod my head. She’s never been this candidly calm. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Pop and your parents all served the Triad—and I may not have served, but I know what they ask of their Enforcers. I know the costs, the strain, and the heartache. In a second everything can be gone. Just remember that.” Gran’s blue eyes are shiny with water. She looks away from me, focuses on some spot on the wall, and I really want her to say “good job.” That’s all I want. For her to approve.