“Styles.” Maggie’s voice was soft. “There was nothing else to do. The Master had already . . . Gareth was already gone, Lainey. You have to know that.”
“And Ty? Is that not my fault either?” I clutched my chest as the hole spasmed painfully. Even his name on my lips was unbearable. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting against the agony.
Maggie let out a soft sigh. “At least we have the Grimoire.”
The emerald amulet had still been around my neck when we escaped from Savannah. Our plan to steal it back had worked after all . . . yet, considering the cost, it hardly felt like a victory.
“So easy for you to say,” I growled, rolling on my side away from Maggie. I didn’t want to talk anymore.
“We should get some sleep.” Maggie sighed again and settled back down on her cot. I waited for the sound of her even breathing before I rolled back over.
She was asleep, but restless. She shivered, though there was a sweaty sheen to her skin. The bite on her arm had been cleaned and bandaged, but the black veins that spidered from the wound were spreading up her arm. They nearly reached her shoulder; the poison from the bite was working its way through her system.
“Will she be okay?” I had asked Zia when we had stopped to camp on the first night.
“Shifter bites aren’t usually lethal.” The other woman shrugged. “But the change won’t be comfortable for her.”
“The change? Does that mean she . . .”
“Yes,” Zia said. “Your friend is transitioning. She’s becoming a Shifter.”
“Is there a way to stop it?”
“I’m afraid not.” Zia thought for a minute, and then added, “But if it helps, Shifters have unique magical abilities—the kind that are not only useful but admired by many of our kind. If she can learn to control it, that is.”
I’d broken the news to Maggie as gently as possible.
“So . . . what you’re saying,” Maggie had said after a long pause of silence, “is that once the transition or whatever is complete, then I’ll have the power to change into any kind of animal that I want?”
I gulped and nodded. “That’s the way I understand it.” I had reached for Maggie’s hand to comfort her, but she’d already jumped to her feet, her face bright with excitement. “This is amazing!”
I stared at her. Was it possible that shock was making her loopy? “It is?”
“Don’t you get it, Lainey? This is my radioactive spider, my super-soldier serum! My chance to be something more than just ordinary!”
I’d tried to reason with her, to explain the challenges of what she might face, but Maggie smiled and waved her hand. “Semantics. Don’t worry, Styles. They’re gonna write a book about us one day. Just wait and see.”
The pain from the transition had gotten worse with every passing hour, but Maggie had continued to bear it with a smile, her eternal optimism never faltering.
Guilt pulsed through me as I stared at her sleeping face. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Mags. And I’m sorry that I’m not being a good friend right now.” Hot tears brimmed in my eyes. “But most of all, I’m sorry for not being brave like you.”
I rolled over again, the tears streaking noiselessly down my cheeks. I reached underneath my pillow and pulled out the Grimoire. It hummed in my hand, though the magic felt stale and disjointed in a way. I gripped the necklace, willing it to transform. Green lightning flashed between my fingertips, but the necklace remained a necklace.
I tried again, but it remained sealed shut. I had no idea how to transform the amulet into a book, much less how to use it or keep it safe.
With an angry curse, I shoved the necklace back underneath the pillow. My chest was throbbing, and my breath was coming in short bursts as my lungs fought back the hysterics that gripped me.
I wrapped my arms around myself again and squeezed my eyes shut. It didn’t help. I opened them again and stared up at the star-filled sky. I began to count—distraction was the only thing I could tolerate.
Lainey.
The familiar voice was barely audible, and I wasn’t sure if my subconscious had made it up or not. I looked around, looked at Maggie, but with the exception of Zia and the Skippers a few feet away, the campsite was still.
Lainey.
This time I sat straight up, my eyes searching. I saw someone waiting in the shadows of a small grove of trees. I didn’t hesitate this time.
I grabbed the Grimoire and eased off my cot, careful not to wake Maggie and Serena or draw attention to myself from the Skippers. I hedged my way out of the light of the fire and then dashed as quietly and quickly as I could to the trees.
I nearly cried when I saw her standing there.
Josephine. Her long dark tresses danced in the breeze, her face so full of sorrow that I had to clutch my chest to keep from crying out.
“Where have you been?” I croaked, my throat full of emotions. I hadn’t seen Josephine since the Gathering, and I’d feared I might never see her again.
She said nothing, but her own eyes began to fill with tears. She pointed to the Grimoire in my hand.
“Yes, I have it, but something’s wrong with it,” I said. “I can’t open it, can’t transform it. Shouldn’t I be able to?”
Josephine took a deep breath and held out her hand. I paused for only the slightest second before I placed my hand in hers. I was ready for the vortex of color as it swirled around me. This time the pain was familiar, and gripping the Grimoire, I welcomed it.
When I felt solid ground underneath my feet, I opened my eyes. I was standing on the bank of a small river. Across the water, there was what looked like a thick wall of smoke or a gauzy curtain. People were moving behind it, but I couldn’t make out faces or features. The place was peaceful, but there was something heavy hanging in the air that made me grip the necklace a little tighter.
“Lainey.”
I whirled around. Josephine was standing behind me, though for the first time, her garments were clean of blood. Her hair was combed and pulled back in a loose braid, and she was more solid than ever before. For the first time, Josephine looked nothing like a ghost. She looked human.
“Josephine?” I reached out to touch her, but hesitated and pulled back.
She smiled at me and reached out, squeezing my hand affectionately. I stared in shock at the hand in mine, the feeling of warmth around my fingers. “How is this possible? Where are we?”
“I’ve brought you to the Veil,” Josephine explained. “Some call it the In Between. It’s the only place I could appear to you like this. There is much to be said, and my time with you grows short. I wanted you to see me like this, if only for the last time.”
“I don’t understand.”