Chapter 35
“This is such a fucked situation,” Sybil says Friday afternoon.
She lays sprawled on the bare mattress in my room at Henbane, waving her hand lazily about and making shapes with her lilac magic. There’s dirt trapped under her nails, and I swear her canines are just a tad sharper than I remember them.
But maybe that’s just my imagination.
“First witches were being trafficked,” Sybil continues, “then we were being killed by demons, and now we have to leave Henbane.” Her voice cracks, and she covers her face with a hand, her magic dissipating.
I lean against one of the newly bare walls in my room, Nero sprawled out near my feet. Sybil and I have found a random moment alone, and we’re trying to make the most of it.
This is the first time I’ve been back to the residence hall since the day after the attack, and for Sybil, she’s been away for much longer. She never got the chance to move back into Ravensmeade, and now she never will.
Several pack members are currently hauling the last of my best friend’s things down the stairs, and Memnon and my father, who’ve been helping me pack throughout the day, have now taken the last carload of my things to our house, leaving me to say my goodbyes to my housemates.
I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that my husband and my dad have hit it off, but I’m caught between happiness and sheer terror at the prospect of them being buddies.
“Maybe this is just temporary,” I say, my mind distracted.
I can’t be at Henbane without thinking of the recent demon attacks, and I cannot think of the recent demon attacks without thinking about Eislyn.
And thinking about Eislyn leads me to thinking about the Bargainer and the deal Memnon struck with him, which was namely lots and lots of money, and a single, undisclosed favor the fairy can cash in on at any time.
It’s a terrible deal in my opinion, but Memnon took it without dispute. So now the Bargainer, Memnon, and I have a game plan: the moment Eislyn appears to be making a definitive, actionable step toward taking over the Flora Kingdom, we call on the Bargainer, and he helps us stop her.
“Do you really think that?” Sybil asks from behind the hand covering her face.
“Hmm?” I say, my attention dragging my attention back to my friend.
“That Henbane will reopen soon,” she says. “Do you really believe that will happen?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea,” I say honestly. I’d like to be hopeful, and usually I am, but things have been so bleak for so long that even I have my reservations.
After a moment I softly confess, “It’s my fault.”
Sybil’s hand falls away from her face. “What do you mean?”
“The attack on our coven sisters—that was my fault,” I say.
Earlier today I filled my best friend in on the long, in-depth version of what’s been happening in my life since we last saw each other: Eislyn, the demon attacks, Memnon slowly losing himself to his power, my soul mate violently breaking the bonds of trafficked supernaturals—all of it.
Sybil sits up now. “Oh no, we’re not going down that self-sacrificing train of logic today. It’s not your fault evil assholes do evil asshole shit, okay?” she says, raising her eyebrows.
I swallow, not sure I agree with her. If she knew everything I did…
“It’s not,” she insists, reading my expression. “But the bigger question is, will you be okay, Selene? I mean, once Henbane is closed and you don’t have the school’s protection? Will you be protected enough against this woman?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say with confidence I don’t feel.
Sybil gives me a long look.
“If I’m not, I will send you my crystal dick collection.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Sybil huffs, then stares out my window. “The pack wouldn’t let me come back before today.” She looks resentful.
I can only imagine how much the lycanthropes’ hierarchical rules must grate on Sybil. I know they’d drive me nuts.
“In this case, it’s probably for the best,” I say.
My best friend gives me a look like I’m a traitor, and I hold up my hands. “You’re right. Absolutely despicable that they’d think to keep you away from this delightful and not at all traumatizing place.”
She’s still giving me a look.
“If it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I’ve been back since Henbane announced it was closing.”
“It’s not the same, and you know it.”
I give her a sad smile just as there’s a knock on the door.
Sawyer, Sybil’s mate, peeks his head in. Merlin, Sybil’s owl, is perched on his shoulder.
“Hey,” he says to us. His eyes find my friend’s and soften. “We finished loading your things. Do you want to look over your room one last time?”
Sybil pushes herself up, and Merlin flies from Sawyer’s shoulder to hers. “Sure.” She glances over at me. “Want to tag along?”
And get more time with my best friend? “Obviously, wench.”
She cackles and reaches for my hand, and I let her drag me out, Nero begrudgingly following at my heels.
“Oh, Selene,” Sawyer says. He holds up an envelope between two of his fingers. “This was in front of your door.”
I raise my brows. “Thanks,” I say, taking it from him. It smells like rosemary and lavender, and inked onto the front of it is Henbane Coven Est. 1838, and beneath that is the school’s insignia of a cauldron bursting with flowers and two crossed brooms.
I hesitate. “You know what? You guys go on ahead of me. I’m just going to open this.”
“M’kay,” Sybil says, already distracted by her boyfriend-mate-fiancé-whatever-in-the-seven-devils he is. She’s already hugging his arm and nuzzling him as the two head down the hall, Merlin still perched on her shoulder.
Once it’s just me and Nero, I rip the envelope open and pull out the card inside. Written in loopy, iridescent handwriting is a note.
You’ve been summoned to the private chambers of the high priestess of Henbane Coven tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.
My brows knit as I read it over. I’m being summoned? And tomorrow of all days? By then, Henbane will be closed, the wrought-iron front gate locked and barred.
I tuck the letter into my pocket and mull over the request. There are easily a dozen things the school’s high priestess could be summoning me for, and all of them make my stomach churn.
I remember then the heavy weight in my pocket.
I reach into it and pull out the large iron key I was given when I first came here.
It’s still just as ridiculous a sight as when I first received it, but I can’t lie, I’m more than a little fond of the thing.
I cross the room and softly set it on my desk.
My heart lurches knowing I might not ever be back in this room.
Henbane was all I ever wanted for years. It was my one true goal, one that I relentlessly pursued. I expected getting in to be the hardest part. I hadn’t expected that it was merely the beginning of my troubles.
And yet, even with all the horror, I still want more time, more memories.
I want more dinners in my dining hall. I want more midnight revelries, I want more flights on brooms and classroom lectures.
I want more assignments that I can work on in the spell kitchen, and hell, I want an excuse to use the Lunar Observatory.
I swallow down my emotion.
But, for now, it’s not meant to be. I let my eyes wander over the bare walls of my room once more. I notice my window is still open, so I release a bit of magic and let my power shimmy it closed.
The window snicks shut, and with that, Nero and I head out.
I close the door behind me, touching the number 306 fondly. “Thanks for the memories.” Memories that were strange and terrible and wonderful and oh so brief. Much too brief.
My hand slides away, and I turn from my room. The lights in the sconces flicker and buzz as Nero and I head down the hall. On the stairs, I pass Olga and her vulture as she carts out a box that absolutely reeks of formaldehyde and dead things.
Even that, I’ll miss. I’ll miss all of this place’s weirdness and my coven sisters being unapologetically themselves.
I reach Sybil’s room just as she, Sawyer, and—to my surprise—Kane exit it.
“Are you sticking around for our last dinner?” Sybil says, heading toward me and Nero.
Technically, I still need to sneak off to Beldame Library and look up a laundry list of items, including what that purple drink Eislyn gave me was. But this is the last meal I might ever share with these coven sisters, and I really, really don’t want to miss it.
I’ll simply visit the library afterward.
“I am if you are,” I say.
“Then that’s a yes. We’re heading down right now.”
Right as the group gets to me, Kane touches my upper arm and says to Sawyer and Sybil, “Hey, give us a sec. We’ll be right down.”
We will?
I raise an eyebrow at the shifter, and he has the audacity to not even look a little bit sheepish about the command.
Sybil peers at us, her eyes lingering where Kane is still touching my arm. She bites her lip, likely swallowing some smartass remark she would’ve made before she was locked into pack hierarchy.
Instead, she says, “Sure thing, Candy Kane. We’ll be downstairs.”
The endearment earns her a literal growl from Kane, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.
It’s so hard being a big bad alpha when there are mouthy witches around.
Sybil ducks her head and lets Sawyer drag her and Merlin away.
I turn my attention more fully to Kane, and I’m sure the shifter can see the question on my face.
“I wanted to see you—one last time,” Kane says.
His wording makes the hairs at the back of my neck prick with foreboding.
“It won’t be the last time we see each other,” I insist. “Unfortunately for you and your pack, one of your newest members happens to be my best friend. So like it or not, so long as Sybil lives on pack lands, I’ll be visiting. A lot.”
He gives a tight smile, his eyes a little too bright. “I’m going to hold you to that, Selene.” His eyes scour me then, and everywhere they seem to land, gooseflesh breaks out.
“Is there something else?” I finally say.
He gives a disbelieving laugh. “You’d never know that less than a week ago you fought a demon—several, if the rumors are true,” he says, almost to himself. His gaze sharpens on my face. “You’re impressive as hell.”
Oof, compliments make me uncomfortable. Especially those given by my almost-boyfriend.
I duck my head, suddenly finding the panther at my side incredibly interesting to focus on.
“Listen,” Kane says, clearing his throat, “I know things won’t ever work out between us, and I’ve made begrudging peace with that, but I hope we can still be friends.”
I tilt my head back up to meet his gaze.
“Friends?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
A muscle in Kane’s jaw flutters. “Friends,” he agrees.
I smile a little. “Yeah, I’d like that, Candy Kane.”
He groans. “Fuck, please, as your friend, I am begging you to kill that nickname.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Good.” He pulls me in for a hug, and the two of us stay like that for a few moments. “And Selene?” he adds against me. “Be careful out there.”
I don’t get a chance to respond.
Screams rise up from the dining room below, filling the house with an unholy sound.
The two of us meet each other’s eyes, and then we run down the hall. I take the final flights of stairs two at a time, Nero bounding alongside me, until we hit the foyer.
The screams are louder and dread is already coiling in my belly.
What I see in the dining hall nearly brings me to my knees.
Across the room, blood coats the faces of every single person in it.