Before the Devil Breaks You (The Diviners #3)

“Yes, you do. I can always tell. I could tell about your friend who came to see me, the boy with the boater hat, and his green-eyed friend. And I could tell about your Miss O’Neill.”

“My sister has always been gifted,” Miss Lillian said. She squeezed Addie’s hand. “And I have been her protector.”

“You have great power,” Addie said to Theta. “You mustn’t be afraid of it, child.”

Ha, Theta thought. You don’t know what I can do. Then you’d be afraid, too.

“Tell me, do you have family near?” Miss Addie asked.

“I’m an orphan,” Theta said.

“You’re wrong.” The old woman blinked up at the ceiling, her fingers waving in the air. “You do have family. I see it in your aura. They’re… they’re all around you.”

“Sorry, Miss Addie. But if I got family, they’ve done a good job of hiding it for the past seventeen years.”

Miss Addie picked up Theta’s cup. She read the tea leaves, frowning.

Theta got nervous. “What is it now? You see something bad?”

“Some ghost does wait for you. This is a bad ghost. You must not let it win.”

“Okay. Now you’re scaring me.”

“We’ll read the signs. Come along, Archibald,” Lillian said. She pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed one of the cats and a curved knife. The cat squirmed in her arms, meowing his displeasure.

Theta jumped up. “Wait! What are you gonna do with that cat?”

“He’ll need to be sacrificed, of course. To read the signs.”

“Nothing doing!” Theta ripped the cat from Miss Lillian’s arms. She pressed him tightly to her chest. Archibald meowed loudly. “Nobody’s killing any cats.”

Miss Lillian glowered. “It’s what we’ve always done.”

“Yeah, well, I’m changing how things are done.”

Miss Lillian started to protest, but Miss Addie cut her off. “Very well. We could stand to change.” She smiled. “I do believe that Archibald likes you. You should take him home. He can be your familiar.”

“My what?”

“Your witch friend.”

Theta looked into the ginger cat’s green eyes. He meowed again and licked her cheek, and Theta knew she was going home with a cat. “Swell. Just what I need.”

“I’ve made mistakes,” Addie said, fidgeting with her lace handkerchief. “And I have tried to make amends for that. I’ve tried to do good in my life. I want to help you. All of you.” She pinned a brooch to Theta’s dress, a silver filigree heart. Dead leaves rattled around in the chamber.

“What’s in there?” Theta asked.

“Wolfsbane and rosemary, birch bark and sweet basil. It’s for protection. And this”—Miss Addie removed her own silver locket and slipped it around Theta’s neck—“this is a bloodstone. It is for courage.”

“Miss Addie. I can’t take this. It’s yours.”

“And now it’s yours, my dear,” Addie said, squeezing Theta’s hand. “Bloodstone asks you to work for the good of others. It demands courage.” Miss Addie swept an age-spotted hand across Theta’s brow, and for a moment, Theta thought of her as the grandmother she’d always wanted but never had. “You’ve been very hurt, my dear. But you’re safe with me. And it’s high time to stop hiding from your power. It will find you out, you know, whether you accept it or not. Best to let it in, show it who’s boss.”

“I’ll think about it,” Theta said, cuddling the purring Archibald close. “But I’ll be counting the cats when I come over. There better be the same number each time.”





PUNISHMENT FOR THEIR SINS


The next day, the Diviners gathered as usual in the library. They were on edge, like the prophesied storm was already happening inside them.

“Good afternoon,” Will said as he and Sister Walker swept into the room, where the Diviners were seated around the long table, silent and scowling. “What’s the matter? Did the city run out of jazz?”

“Why did you breed Diviners as part of your Project Buffalo?” Ling blurted out.

Sam groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“Ling, what part of ‘keep our traps shut’ didn’t you understand?” Henry said under his breath.

Ling appraised him coolly. “I understood fine. I simply didn’t agree. It’s silly to pretend we don’t know when they have the answers we need.” She turned to Will and Sister Walker. “How do you expect us to work for you when you’ve been lying? You owe us the answers. You owe us the truth.”

Sam readied himself for further stonewalling, but to his surprise, Will nodded at Sister Walker.

“You’re right,” she said. “We do.”

Will started a fresh fire, poking at the kindling and newspaper until it roared to life. Then he took up his pacing, as if he could outrun the truth, while Sister Walker stood beside the fireplace quite still, her hands clasped at her waist like a schoolmarm ferreting out trouble.

“We thought we were helping. That we would make our country safer with the help of Diviners,” Will said at last.

“Yeah? By breeding Diviners?” Sam threw the punch cards on the table. “You made us out of some kind of crazy serum. You made us!”

“You made me,” Evie said with barely controlled fury.

“Evangeline, I… Where did you get those?” Will asked, pointing at the cards.

“And now you’re changing the subject!” Evie growled.

“It’s important. Please.”

“A room that used to belong to the Department of Paranormal down in the basement of the post office. Evie and I broke in,” Sam said.

Will blanched. “Did anyone see you breaking in?”

“No,” Sam said. “Why?”

Will let out a deep breath. “Because… because that was a government office and you could be arrested.”

“Still waiting for that answer,” Sam demanded.

“Yes, we all are,” Evie chimed in.

“We thought we could create a generation of extraordinary Americans with extraordinary powers.” Will sagged into one of the club chairs. “We thought we were doing something good for the country.”

Sam was starting to piece together what he’d been trying to ignore. “My mother was sick with me on the boat over from Russia. Rotke singled her out at immigration. Is that how you picked your subjects? Did you camp out at Ellis Island waiting for all the immigrants coming through?”

“We did choose from immigrants, yes,” Sister Walker said. The fireplace lent an otherworldly glow to her cheekbones.

“Would you tell them they couldn’t come into the country if they said no to your little ‘vitamin tonic’?” Sam spat.

“It wasn’t just immigrants.” Memphis’s voice shimmered with anger. “You went after your own people.”

Sister Walker glared. “Did you want to be left out of the new America? Or should those special powers belong only to white folks?”

Memphis had never felt so conflicted. He was appalled by Sister Walker’s choices even as he understood them. “What about Isaiah? My mother wasn’t in the program by the time he was born. How did he…?”

“Sister?” Isaiah prompted.