“Then why did She let me do it?” I scream back.
The back door of the house bangs open again. Whether it’s wind or Caleb, I don’t know. The coven leaps toward the noise as one. I take the opening and run as fast as I can in the other direction, disappearing into the trees. I move in a zigzag, ducking branches and skidding on twigs. Rough bark scratches at my palms. The heels of my boots cut deep into the dirt as I scramble around thick tree trunks.
I trip and fall face-first to the ground, my cheek slamming into the dirt. My teeth rattle. Pain makes my vision blur. Army-crawling forward, I look over my shoulder to see if any of the older witches followed, but there’s nothing but darkness and the shadows of gnarled trees behind me. Everything smells like crusty leaves and moist dirt. I feel like I’ve walked into a horror movie and some slow-moving dude with a knife is about to pop out from behind a bush.
Instead, there’s another gunshot blast. Mice scratch in the branches above me, and birds scream in the sky. Raccoons skitter, fleeing to their den. Everything in the woods knows to be scared of the shotgun.
I flatten my back against a particularly wide oak tree and close my eyes tight, rooting around inside myself for the connection between me and the girls. They’re out of range, but not by much. I move with more purpose, playing hot and cold with myself, although it’s hard because every snap of a twig makes me feel like I might puke, which confuses my magical radar.
I reach for the rubber band on my wrist, snapping it with every step.
You started this, Flores. You have to stay focused.
Eyes open.
I hear the crunch of footsteps before I feel the shudder of a single girl passing the threshold of my magic. Even in the darkness, I can see white eyes coming toward me. The broken veins and blood vessels in her face don’t fade until Dayton clasps her hands in mine.
“You need to get out of here,” she whispers harshly.
“I can’t,” I stress. “Those witches are very serious about killing you guys.”
“We’re already dead, Mila. But you aren’t.” She shakes my hands sharply, like she’s trying to get the wrinkles out of my palms. “If a shot misses us and hits you, there’s no one to bring you back. Riley already got out of the woods. June and I will be okay. We don’t feel pain! We’ll find you when it’s safe, okay? We can sense each other. It’ll be fine.”
But what if it isn’t? I want to ask. What if right now is goodbye forever?
I don’t think I can bring them back if their heads are blown off. I think that’s the whole point of Toby’s shotgun.
“Go!” Dayton pushes away from me. “Go right now, Mila, or I swear to God, I will be so mad at you! Forever. Even when you come join us in heaven.”
I swallow, feel for the lump of my keys in the pocket of my jacket, and take off back the way I came. All the way up the driveway past the motorcycles with their lights on and their owners swarming the farmhouse. Into my car.
Toward Laurel Street.
* * *
The air outside the Greenway funeral home is heavy with dryer scent. I know from seeing my reflection in the window of my car that I’m a mess, even worse than the night I brought the girls back from the dead. Face dirty. Leaves and twigs and filth matted into my frizzy hair. Eyeliner and mascara gooped into the corners of my eyes.
At the top of the long driveway, I lean against the hearse. The black metal of the side door is cool against my pant legs. My body already aches where it whacked into trees and the ground. I pull out my phone, unsurprised to see a crack bisecting the screen. Even so, seeing the flaw in the glass brings a lump to my throat—phones aren’t cheap, and my parents struggled to make sure that my sisters and I had one with a decent plan. They’ll be furious when they see that I’ve marred mine. Why wasn’t I more careful?
A tear splashes onto the crack as I pull up Xander’s contact information. I can’t wait for him to answer a text. I press call.
“Mila,” he says after two rings. “What’s up—”
“I’m outside,” I say thickly. “On the drop-off side. Can you come out?”
“Of course. I’m on my way.”
I don’t bother trying to look less fucked up in the moments between the end of the call and when the door creaks open. Xander appears, dark eyebrows drawn together in concern. Riley used to pluck his eyebrows once a month to keep them from meeting the middle. He would take one of her shifts in the showroom in exchange.
He’s wearing a bulky gray sweatshirt and black pajama pants. It’s late, I suddenly realize. He might have been asleep.
“I’m sorry,” I say as he steps down onto the driveway. “I know it’s late. I didn’t know where else to go and—”
“Hey.” He swoops forward, too fast for me to stop him. He pushes the tears off my cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Are you okay? Did you walk here through the woods?”
I bite the tip of my tongue until my spit thins, making the lie more palatable. “Sort of. I had some witch stuff that went kind of . . . sideways.” I scrape the tears away from my eyes with the tips of my fingers. “Really sideways. I think I fucked everything up.”
He wraps his arms around me, holding me against his chest. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we can fix it, okay? Can it wait until tomorrow, or should I go put on shoes?”
I think of the girls finding shelter for the night. Dayton made me promise that I’d take care of myself, and it’s too dark to go looking for them anyway. I’d be putting myself and Xander at risk if I went back to Yarrow right now. I don’t want Toby’s coven to think he has anything to do with the resurrection spell.
“It can wait,” I finally say, but I’m so quiet I don’t even know if he can hear me. I tip my head up and say it again with more confidence than I feel.
“Good. Come on in.” He steps aside, ushering me through the doors. “My parents are already asleep, but you can get cleaned up, if you want. Do you want to grab a shower and some water? You have mud . . . everywhere.”
I look down at myself, knowing he’s right. I’m caked in patches of dirt from my boots upward. If I tried to walk into my house right now, my mom would bolt out of bed on instinct and spray me down with the hose before I was allowed to set foot on the carpet.
“My mom’s already taken her Ambien,” Xander says, guiding me with a delicate hand on the small of my back through the showroom and up the stairs toward the apartment. “So you know nothing could wake her up. I can throw your clothes in the washer, and you can borrow a pair of pajamas from me.”
I glance back at him as I climb the stairs. The adrenaline is starting to evaporate out of my bloodstream, leaving me too weak and tired to be embarrassed. “That’s really nice, but there’s no way your pajamas are going to fit me.”
“Oh, right,” he says, unconcerned with his miscalculation of the size of my waist. “Go ahead and start your shower. I’ll put a robe on the doorknob for you.”
I nod my agreement. He reaches down and squeezes my hand before dashing off toward the laundry closet.
I could find my way to the hall bathroom with my eyes closed, which is good because there aren’t many lights on. Just a pinpoint in the kitchen and the glow of a computer in Xander’s room. Otherwise, the apartment is quiet and still. All the flowers that were here last week are gone, not a single empty vase or spare white petal remaining.
Riley’s bedroom door is closed, and I imagine her safely behind it, flexing her left wrist as it heals itself at my presence. The image is so clear in my mind that I can’t stop myself from peeking inside. It’s empty, of course.