She laughed, but her face turned serious again all too quickly. “Well, Victor didn’t give me much choice, did he? I can’t just stand by and do nothing while he slaughters innocent people. I have to face him. I have to stand and fight, and I have to protect my Family and everyone else as best I can for as long as possible.”
I drew in a deep breath, staring at all the stars on my mom’s sword, knowing what I had to do now. Maybe I’d always known, ever since I’d started working for the Sinclairs. Or maybe I’d realized it even before then, the day my mom had been murdered.
“And what if you didn’t face Victor yourself? What if you chose someone else to do it for you?”
Claudia looked at me, her eyes sharpening with understanding. “You . . . you actually want to fight Victor.” She shook her head. “No, Lila, I can’t let you do that. Protecting the Sinclairs is my job, my responsibility. You saved Devon at the restaurant, and you kept him safe, just as I asked. In fact, you’ve done every single thing I’ve asked of you this summer. I’m not going to ask you to do this too. Facing Victor is my duty and my sacrifice to make, not yours.”
“And he’s the one who tortured and murdered my mom just because she got in his way, just because she dared to stand up to him, just because she tried to protect the monsters and everyone else from him,” I said. “He told me all about it—how she stole and destroyed the first stash of black blades he had all those years ago.”
Claudia nodded. “Serena never told me all the details, but I thought it must have been something like that. Even back then, when we were kids, Victor was always hungry for power. I just never thought he would go to such horrible lengths to attain it.”
“I can beat him,” I said. “That’s what my mom told me in my dream . . . or whatever that was. I can take away Victor’s magic, his Talents.”
She frowned. “And how can you do that?”
“I have no idea, but stealing is what I do best. Lila Merriweather, thief extraordinaire, remember?” I grinned and waggled my eyebrows at her. “I’m sure I can figure it out. I always have before.”
Claudia laughed, but the sound quickly faded away, and her face turned serious again. “But you never had to battle Victor before. He’s stronger and more cunning and ruthless than anyone else you’ve ever fought.”
Everything she said was true, but I shrugged, not letting her see how scared part of me was deep down inside. Scared that I would end up just like my mom—dead at Victor’s hand.
“You don’t have to do this for me,” she repeated. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for me—for me and my mom and every monster and every person that Victor has ever hurt.”
She stared at me, her green eyes locking with mine. She didn’t have my soulsight magic, so she couldn’t feel my emotions the way I could her worry and fear, but she could easily see the determination etched in my face.
Claudia stared at me for a long, long time. Then she finally nodded. “So be it then,” she said. “I’ll let Hiroshi and the others know.”
“So be it,” I echoed.
Claudia left my room. According to the clock on the nightstand, there were still a couple of hours to go until dawn, so I went back to sleep. After all the stress, worry, and tension of the past few days, it was nice to know what I had to do now—even if Victor would probably end up killing me, just like he had my mom.
I woke up the second time to find Oscar pacing back and forth on the nightstand, his cowboy boots clack-clack-clacking out a steady, soothing rhythm. Tiny was on top of another table, nestled in a bowl full of lettuce, happily and steadily chewing his way to freedom as though he was in a prison of delicious greenery.
I got out of bed and went over to where the tortoise was. “Looks like someone’s already had his breakfast.”
I scratched the top of Tiny’s head. He huffed his thanks, then went straight back to his lettuce. I liked a tortoise who had his priorities straight.
Oscar fluttered over, landed on the table, and gave me a critical once-over. “How are you feeling?”
I put my arms up over my head and stretched from side to side. “Tired. Sore.”
“No more hallucinations?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nope, no more crazy dreams or visions or whatever.”
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been a very long time since I’d eaten. “So . . . please tell me that they have some bacon in this joint.”
Oscar laughed. “Now I know you’re all right.” He flew up and hugged my neck before zipping over to the door. “This way.”