“Fuck you,” Jeremy said. “I saved your ass. Why would you keep your practice kills around? You should have tossed them in the lake. I did.”
“You disposed of evidence?” I asked.
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “You think she’s gonna arrest me? She works for me.”
Deb made a soft sound of derision, and Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve killed a dozen witches. What have you done?”
“I just killed one now, didn’t I?” Deb pointed at Owen’s mom.
“She isn’t really a witch,” I said.
“She thinks she’s one.” Deb glanced at Jeremy. “Doesn’t that count?”
“No.”
“She meant to say ‘die, witch hunter,’” I murmured. “Not ‘die, witch.’”
Both times she’d been interrupted—tackled by George, shot by Deb.
“There you go.” Jeremy withdrew a small notebook from a back pocket, flipped it open, and handed it to Deb. “I figured you’d be worthless. Read that.”
“What language is this?”
“Latin.”
“I don’t speak Latin.”
“You don’t need to. Just read along. Try to keep up.”
He slashed my neck again. From the sharp pain and the incredible head rush, the wound was deeper than the last one.
Jeremy drew his shirt over his head, shucked his pants and everything else. He lifted an eyebrow at Chief Deb. “Skyclad.”
She sighed, but she got naked too.
“Skyclad beneath the moon,” I said. “You gonna stand around until it rises?”
He lifted his gaze to the stormy sky. “Just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”
He began to chant. Chief Deb joined in, lamely but gamely. I struggled against the zip ties. Foolish, since even if I got them off, I doubted that Jeremy or Deb—or his knife and her gun, which she’d kept in her hand even after she’d lost the uniform—would let me go. But I couldn’t just lie there.
I was a witch. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here. I should be able to do something. But what? Talking to animals wasn’t going to help. Neither would the laying on of hands. Not for the first time I wished for a more active—i.e., destructive—power.
In the air above me a face appeared. As if made from the air, or perhaps behind it, trying to get out.
I blinked. It was still there. In fact, it was more there, and I recognized it.
Roland McHugh was trying to push his way out from wherever he had been the last four hundred years.
Help! I scream-thought. I’m at Revelation Point. Please come.
I had no idea who I was talking to, but oddly … it felt right.
The wind, or the wolves, picked up again. They sounded closer. They sounded here.
Though I didn’t want to take my eyes off Jeremy and his knife, nor the creepy Roland-face that expanded and retreated from the air above me, I had to see if I was right.
I turned my head just as the first wolf emerged from the trees.
*
They weren’t two miles out of town when a storm descended. Wind and rain slammed into the vehicle. Thunder shook the earth. Lightning split the navy sky, tossing silvery sparkles across the herd of now drenched wolves.
“That’s weird,” Cassandra said.
“Storms come up.” Franklin shrugged. “They gotta start somewhere.”
She glanced out the back window. “Huh.”
Everyone but Bobby, who was driving, followed her gaze. Behind them, the sun shone from a cloudless sky. In front of them, the moon played hide-and-seek with the storm.
“Henry,” Raye said. “Knock it off.”
“Henry’s doing that?” Owen asked.
“He says no.”
“But he could?” Owen clarified. “If he wanted to?”
“He has the power to influence the weather.”
“But you can’t?” Cassandra asked, and Raye shook her head. “Becca?”
“Not that I know of.” Raye faced front. “If she isn’t, our other sister must be doing it.”
Bobby glanced at her then back at the road. “What does that mean?”
“No clue.”
“Can we focus on one sister at a time?” Owen pointed ahead as the wolves turned in a graceful sweep onto a dirt road.
Bobby slowed to follow, then slowed even more and switched the car into four-wheel drive to make it up the now-muddy incline.
“This is Revelation Point,” Owen said. “Used to be make-out central.”
“Why would the Venatores Mali come here?” Cassandra wondered. “Is there a rock altar?”
“Not that I remember, but—” He shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for that the last time I was here.”
The last time he’d been here he’d been looking for the unlock mechanism on Becca’s bra. As he recalled, she’d ended up unlocking it for him.
The car shimmied and ground to a halt. Bobbie shifted into four-wheel low. The tires spun and he slammed it into park. “We can try and get unstuck.”
Owen opened the door and stepped into the mud. “Or we can run.”