House of Ivy & Sorrow

FORTY-SEVEN





“Looks like our planning session is over.” I head for Nana’s desk, where the lion-jaw dagger sits on its stand. I pick it up, the bone smooth and cool against my sweaty palm. It’s not much, but I’m taking anything that may even remotely help. “Where are the charms?”

“Here.” Tessa holds up an arm’s length of necklaces. “Three for each of us.”

“I wish I had time to discuss my plan in detail,” I say as Tessa passes around our meager protection.

“Kill him before he kills us?” Maggie asks.

I shake my head, my need for vengeance suddenly broiling. “No, I want him alive . . . and in pain. Basically, we need to restrain him. Then you guys need to form a pentagram around him and tap into the spell I cast to make it stronger.”

Kat frowns. “Do Gwen and I know how to do that?”

“You’ll know,” all the Crafts say at the same time. Tessa places the last of the charms over Kat’s head. “It’s intrinsic. You will feel Jo’s energy and power—all you have to do is match it.”

Kat and Gwen nod.

Taking a deep breath, I look out the window again. He’s standing inside the gate, smiling as if he knows what we’re planning, as if it’s futile, as if he’s already won. Ugh, so that’s where Levi got all that ego. Before I head for the door, I whisper in Nana’s ear, “Take it all the second you can.”

Her eyes go wide. “Okay.”

I turn to my family, my friends, their eyes set with determination. My hand automatically goes to Mom’s pendant, and I hold my head up high. No matter what happens, she would be proud of me for doing all I can. She would have expected nothing less. “For Carmina.”

“For Carmina,” everyone says.

And Stacia. I don’t say it out loud, but I ache for Levi’s mother. I’m grateful for what she tried to do for us. She deserves to be remembered and avenged as well.

I head for the door, footsteps clomping behind me like a death march. As I unlock the dead bolt, the house of ivy’s black door seems more fitting than ever. Its creaking sounds more like a growl today, like it, too, despises the suffocating darkness this monster brought with him.

Everything is drenched in shadow, and not because it’s almost night. His aura has transformed our entire yard—the grass, the trees, the ivy, and even the house—into inky gloom. We spread out, surrounding him without a word. He doesn’t move, all the time his eyes trained on me.

But then he startles, his gaze flicking between Gwen and Kat. His laugh is quiet, but the insanity still comes through. “Josephine, you sweetheart. You didn’t have to make me more treats.”

I bristle at his voice, too gentle to be anything but deadly.

“You wish,” Gwen says. Her magic is surprisingly powerful already, and her anger makes the air sizzle with electricity.

He takes a step toward me, and my fingers tighten around the dagger. His eyes are beyond wild, as if I’m looking into the depths of magic itself. “You are the spitting image of your mother, you know. Except you might be prettier.”

Prudence’s anger flares. “Why you—”

I hold up my hand. His eyes scare the hell out of me, but I force myself to look right into them. I will not give him the pleasure of seeing my fear.

“So quiet.” He smirks. “You don’t strike me as the silent type.”

“You don’t deserve words.” My voice is flat, and my palms are full of magic. I point the dagger at him and release everything I have.

My lightning is red as it crackles through the shadows, magnified in strength and purity by the lion jaw. He holds out his hands, and a barrier blocks my spell. His grin is clearly unhinged, and I can tell he enjoys this though he struggles to fight it off. I breathe in more magic, letting it flow and flow. Maybe he can fight me off, but he has to use up magic to do it. That’s just as good a result.

Gwen and Kat stay at my side, obviously shell-shocked, but I can tell they’re trying to help with my spell. It could be so much stronger, but I’m proud they’re doing as well as they are, being witches for a whole five minutes or so.

Thankfully, Prudence picks up on my diversionary tactic and comes at him from behind. She grabs both of his arms, and his eyes go wide. My spell is inches from his face when he holds out a hand to Tessa, and she screams in agony. All her fingernail beds run bloody as he catches her nails midair.

Prudence cracks at her sister’s pain, and he uses the moment to get her by the neck with Tessa’s bloody nails. “Nice try.”

I drop the spell, my mind blanking as I watch the nails dig into Pru’s pale skin. He won’t hesitate to kill her; this I know for sure. Her eyes plead with me, and her lips mouth something I can’t quite catch. Something that starts with a B.

She tries again.

Braid!

I hold out my dagger, telling the magic to cut Pru’s hair. It frees itself from her, writhing in the air. It springs for his neck, wrapping around like a noose. I let it squeeze hard, hard enough that the nails fall from Pru’s skin. He drops to his knees, and her impossibly long hair coils around his arms and torso, binding him in place.

Phase one complete. I can hardly believe . . .

He laughs, the sound strangled and disturbing. I try to go on with the next spell, but he seems too happy about being bound. That can’t be good.

The air grows cold, so cold that I can see my breath.


His image blurs, the shadows around him flaring and pulsing as they leave his body. My fear becomes a crippling force that leaves me numb with panic. A black Shadow man—the same as when we freed my dad—forms next to Prudence. It smiles at her, and its wanting pours out everywhere.

“Eenie.” He points to Gwen. “Meenie.” To Kat. “Miney.” To me. “Moe.” The shadow turns to face Maggie, whose hands are frozen by her side. He pounces, and she’s too far out of reach for me to stab the shadow and take the Curse instead.