67 Birdie
BIRDIE
The moment Dáinn disappears with Frankie, I leap into action.
Running to the Jeep, I toss the GPR cart in the back, and drive the Jeep inside the loading dock.
It just barely fits. Scrambling out, I punch my fist on the big grey button, shutting the heavy metal door.
It rattles down loud and slow, blocking out the sunlight.
I get one last look at the alley between the buildings as the door lowers. It looks like a tornado touched down—upturned trashcans, scattered litter, a bent bike on its back, front wheel slowly spinning.
At least there’s no bleeding corpse out there.
No, the body is in here with me. Sucking in a sharp breath, I hold it in my chest and glance down.
Enzo Barsotti lies in bloody pieces at my feet.
It’s gruesome. We can’t leave him like this.
I look around for something to wrap him in.
A piece of cloth maybe? Or a tarp? I have to take him with me. Clean up the crime scene.
Oh god, Phoebe is gonna kill me for getting blood in her Jeep—
Phoebe.
Yes, I should call Phoebe! She’s the witch, not me. She’ll know what to do, right? Jasper is busy helping Frankie. Dáinn will come back when he can. Until then, Phoebe will help me clean up this mess.
Speaking of clean up . . .
I glance down, hands still trembling. I’m covered in Enzo’s blood.
It’s in my hair, spattered all over my jeans and shirt.
It’s soaked through my freaking shoes, leaving bloody footprints wherever I walk.
I can’t roll up to the ferry looking like this.
Are you kidding? I look like the extra from a zombie slasher film.
Someone will call the police. Heck, I’d call the police too if I saw me.
Heart racing, I glace around again. Where’s Dáinn? He told me to hide, but I can’t just sit here and wait for him. We made so much noise out there. Frankie summoned a freaking tornado!
Someone is sure to come find me any second. If they don’t find me here drenched in blood with a body at my feet, they’ll see the footage from the security cameras. Campuses are all crawling with cameras, right?
Oh god, we’ve just outed the secret of magic. The coven won’t be safe. My face will be on the news—
“Birdie.”
I spin around.
Dáinn is standing there. Well, not Dáinn. Not the shadowy wraith. He’s back in his rendered form—faded jeans and a thin black T-shirt, those angel blonde curls. He’s pulled them back into a low, messy bun.
Sighing with relief, I rush over to him. “Oh, thank god. Are you okay? How’s Frankie—”
“We have to go.” He holds out his hand.
“What?” I stop short, not taking his hand. “We can’t just leave Enzo’s body here. And we can’t leave the Jeep either. It has the GPR. Dáinn, we need it—”
“I know,” he soothes. “Baz will help us.”
I’m reeling. “Baz? Why would he help—”
“Hello, Virginia.”
I spin the other way, just as the mage appears in a bloom of purple smoke. His silvery hair looks as tousled as ever, his lilac eyes full of mischief and delight. I back away from him, not stopping until I reach Dáinn’s side.
The mage takes in my blood-drenched appearance. “My my. We have been busy.” He glances down at the body sprawled at his feet. “You do like to give me a challenge, Dáinn.”
“Can we still use it?”
Sinking down into a crouch, the mage’s eyes glow almost neon as he mutters a few soft words over the body.
He picks up one of Enzo’s arms, inspecting the witch’s fingertips.
Reaching into the mess of Enzo’s split middle, Baz tugs out the heart, still attached by veins.
He gives the dead piece of muscle a few gentle squeezes.
“Hmm . . . this should still work. Might not be very pretty.”
“Do it,” Dáinn directs. “We may need it before the end.”
Slowly, the mage rises. “Done.” With a snap of his bloody fingers, the body of the witch, all his spilled blood, and the Jeep disappear in a haze of purple smoke.
Behind him on the wall, the shelves that were blasted with Enzo’s fire magic are magically repaired.
No scorch marks. No shattered equipment.
All is as it was. “Tell your witch he owes me now . . . friend.”
Wait, Dáinn and Jasper made a deal?
I gasp. “No—” I spin to face the wraith. “Dáinn, what have you done?”
“Look at me.” He cups my face with both hands. “I don’t know how long I have left. Everything has changed.”
“What do you mean? What everything?”
The wraith looks to the mage. “Handle this?”
Baz smiles wide. “With pleasure.”
Without another word, Dáinn pulls me with him into the void. I don’t even have time to protest before we reappear in the kitchen of the little apartment over Salt & Sage. He drops his hands from me and I back away, glancing all around. “Wait—what are we doing here? Where’s Frankie and Jasper?”
“They’re at the house,” he assures me. “They’re safe.”
I hold out my hand. “Well, then let’s go there. They might need us—”
“No. You’re needed here.”
“Why?”
“Because Baz is putting the Jeep on the next ferry to Burr Island. You’ll need to be ready to collect it.
Jasper needs you, Birdie. He needs your help to handle Howe.
Don’t stop, whatever happens. Do you understand?
Your only task is to find the bodies of the First Five.
If they were buried with their grimoires, you must keep those books from falling into Ludmilla’s hands. ”
I blink back my tears, heart racing. “Why does this feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
“Because I am.”
“No—”
“Birdie, she knows,” he says over me.
“Who knows what?”
He steps in, taking hold of my shoulders. “Ludmilla. She knows I’ve been lying to her. She knows I’m helping the coven.”
My heat drops from my chest. “Oh, Dáinn . . . what will she do to you?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I think it likely she’ll call me back.
At any moment, she’ll pull me away. I don’t know if she can still hold me, but I do know she can still offer me names.
I left word with Mercy Bartlett on my way back to you.
The coven is convening now at Prescott House.
Birdie, you must go there. As soon as you recover the Jeep, go there and stop me. ”
“Stop you?”
“If Ludmilla starts giving me their names, you have to be ready to stop me from devouring them. You know I won’t be able to stop myself. Birdie, please. I’m begging you—”
“Yeah, okay.” I nod. “Of course, I will.”
“And don’t stop looking for the grimoires.
The rest of the plan must still hold as well.
Jasper needs to attack Saint Gennaro’s. Whoever Ludmilla sends to defend her cache of blood, the coven must kill them.
Get the bodies to Baz. He’ll know what to do.
We can still try and break this bond on the third quarter moon. You tell Jasper not to give up.”
“I will,” I say through my tears.
Lowering his face to mine, he cups my cheek. “Birdie, we need Baz. Make Jasper see sense.”
I nod again, wrapping my hand around his wrist. “I’ll tell him.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together. There’s never enough time to do the things that really matter.”
“Stop,” I plead. “This isn’t the end. She’s not taking you from me. Not when I only just found you. God, it’s not fair—”
“I know,” he soothes.
“We’ve never even kissed!”
Smiling, he leans down and brushes his lips to mine. Softly. Over far too quick. “There. One kiss. A priceless treasure I take with me into the belly of the beast.”
Rage burns through me as I pull on his shoulders. “I will kill her. Do you hear me? That witch is dead. You’re mine, Dáinn. You belong with me.”
His smile widens as he nods. “Yours.”
Arching up on my toes, I kiss him again, taking charge this time.
I don’t care that I’m covered in blood. I press myself against him, opening my mouth to his.
He groans into the kiss, his arms wrapping around me.
These arms are thick and strong. His rendered skin is warm.
I weave my fingers into his curly hair, my wraith with the face of an angel.
He breaks our kiss. “I heard you, Birdie. You called my name.”
“I did,” I say on a breath, smoothing my hands down his chest. “Enzo threatened to take me and hurt me. I called for you both. Only you came.”
He tips my chin up, forcing me to look into his whiskey eyes. “No creature has ever called me forth thus. Not without using my full name. I heard you, Birdie. And you didn’t force me to your side. I heard your call and had a choice of how to act.”
I smile. “Well, I’m special, remember? ‘Compatible’ is the word I think you used.”
He nods, his gaze softening. “You were made for me, Birdie Rhodes. I can drink from you without draining you. You can call for me, and I hear you. Perhaps there is no fating a mate for a wraith. But I can still choose.”
My heart stops. “You would want that? I mean—you would choose this . . . me?”
“Wraiths crave something to haunt,” he replies.
“Something to hunt, and covet, and adore. The great pain of our existence is that we can never get close, never indulge our creature natures without killing the very thing we seek to covet.” Smiling, he trails his fingertips along my jaw.
“But then you appeared on that balcony in a halo of golden light. I can haunt you, Birdie.”
Dropping his hand, he presses it to my chest. “I can hunt you. I see your aura, I know how much you crave the chase. Only with you can I covet and adore as my creature demands.” His voice takes on the rasping growl of the wraith.
I see him there, the shadow of him flickering in Daniel’s eyes.
“I want you, Birdie Rhodes. I want more time with you. I want everything. Gods, I want—”
I silence him with another kiss. All timidity is gone. I’m taking what I want too.
“Birdie—”
“Adore me,” I pant, jerking off my soiled shirt and tossing it aside. “Covet me, Dáinn. Fuck me and feed on me. I want my wraith.”