Chapter 32 #2
Madness glimmered behind her eyes, a desperate, unhinged belief Miles knew he wouldn’t be able to sway. Gabriel shook his head, seeing it too—the magic had gotten in too deep, pushed her too far for anyone to reach.
Robin wasn’t herself anymore. His aunt would never consider harming her family.
“We need to get this moving,” Felicity told Robin, bored and impatient. “The ritual still needs—”
A sound cut her off, a rock clattering across the floor. One of the girls must’ve tripped or bumped into loose rubble.
“Who’s there?” Felicity’s voice cracked, deadly as a whip. She spun around, scanning the gloom. A flurry of footsteps took off towards the door, a flash of blonde hair in the dancing candlelight.
Miles didn’t stop to think. He lunged forward, hitting Felicity hard enough to knock her to the ground.
His injured shoulder screamed in pain, but he caught himself on the altar, jacket sleeve brushing the candle flames.
When he turned to his aunt, ready to take her down, Gabriel was already there, ripping the grimoire from her frozen hands.
“Burn it,” he told Miles grimly, tossing him the book.
Framed by the altar candles was a small kitchen knife and a piece of worn paper with a torn edge—the missing page.
Miles grabbed it too, shoving it under the leather cover and holding the whole thing over the nearest candle. The fire sizzled and hissed as it licked hungrily up the book.
Good riddance. They should’ve torched this thing the second they found it.
His fingers stung from the heat, but the grimoire refused to catch, untouched by the flames. Miles pulled it back— there wasn’t even a smudge of soot on it, the cover still cool to the touch.
Felicity laughed, picking herself off the ground. “Surely you didn’t think such a powerful artifact could be destroyed so easily.”
Miles snatched up the kitchen knife, driving it into the book with all his strength. The blade bent in on itself.
Holy shit.
“If you’re quite finished with your games,” Felicity sneered, “hand it over.”
No way. He still had the grimoire. If he and Gabriel could make a run for it, get out of—
“Don’t bother.” Tendrils of shadows slithered across the floor, coiling at her feet like an obedient dog. “When they catch you, I can’t promise they won’t take a little taste.”
Gabriel shook his head. They wouldn’t make it out of here.
Wishing he could smash her in the face with it, Miles shoved the grimoire at Felicity and went to stand beside Gabriel, the tentacles perking up to track his movements in eerie unison.
She passed it to Robin. “It looks like you’ll be using this one”—a dismissive nod at Miles—“now that your intended sacrifice has escaped. The better choice, if you ask me. He’s been quite the inconvenience.”
A mixture of relief and fear slid down Miles’s spine. They weren’t concerned with chasing down the twins, but only because he was on the chopping block instead.
His aunt bit her lip, the chapped skin splitting to release a dribble of blood. “It wasn’t supposed to be him. Jenna was the doomed one, the one—”
“Yes, well, things don’t always go according to plan. If you don’t want to go through with the ritual now…”
Miles shifted closer to Gabriel as they argued. “What’s the plan?”
“If you see a chance, run,” he whispered. “No hesitation.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Please, I—” Gabriel’s voice cracked. “I need you to get out of here.”
Before Miles could answer, Robin shuffled over. He searched for something familiar in her face, a hint of warmth, of the aunt who loved him. There was nothing. How long had he been staring into this mask without realizing?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “but a sacrifice is required. And I know you’d rather it was you than Jenna. I have to believe this was meant to be your future all along.”
Miles turned away. If she wanted forgiveness, understanding, he’d die before giving it to her.
With a sigh, she stepped away and opened the grimoire, flipping through the pages.
“And what about me?” Gabriel challenged. “I’m going to be another sacrifice? Jocelyn’s replacement?”
Felicity looked genuinely surprised. “What gave you that ridiculous idea? We don’t need a replacement.
The magic can feed off of her indefinitely, as long as she’s still alive.
A merciful solution.” She spoke as if Jocelyn wasn’t mere feet away, glaring holes into her.
“There are only two rules that must be followed: the magic must be rebound to her by a Hawthorne of the new generation, and the sacrifice must be of gifted blood. Traditionally, the firstborn would do it, but Edmund refused to go through with the ritual. An unfortunate pattern in our bloodline. The men have a tendency to be weak.”
That explained the bloody branches of the tree, what the second siblings had been brought here for. Gabriel wasn’t the sacrifice—he was doing the sacrificing.
“Your family murdered Barnaby because he refused to subject Jocelyn to more torture?” Miles couldn’t hide his disgust.
“The magic killed him, and it will kill Edmund too if we don’t complete the rebinding.
Once the power is called forth, if the ritual isn’t completed, it will turn on the summoner.
” She flicked her cold gaze over to Gabriel.
“It’s disobedient when it’s hungry, as you and Bram saw when it came for you tonight.
The only thing holding it back and stopping it from fully devouring Edmund’s body and mind, is my promise to bring you here to complete the rebinding.
But we need to be quick—I’ve already put this off longer than was safe because your fool of a brother insisted on disobeying me these last few years.
” Annoyance thinned her lips. “Jocelyn’s bonds have been weakening, our gifts draining away. ”
The utter nonchalance in her voice made Miles’s blood boil. “Gabriel isn’t a killer like you.”
“As your aunt explained, she’s not dead.
” Felicity lifted her hand, palm up. Her lashes fluttered, lips moving silently, and a moment later, a stake appeared in her grasp.
It was made of plain wood, engraved with swirling symbols.
She twisted it so the silver tip caught the light.
“Picture her as… a battery. All you need to do is plug yourself in, Gabriel, and you and your brothers will finally understand the true power of our family. Then we can all go back to normal, the way it’s always been. ”
It was sick. Twisted. There wasn’t a flicker of humanity or remorse in Felicity. Even the wooden stake in her hand oozed wickedness, thick and blunt, designed to hurt.
“What is there to go back to? We despise you, even Bram. You, our facade of a family, our prison of a home.” Gabriel’s bottom lip trembled.
Miles wanted to reach over to take his hand, lend him strength.
“Even Father left because he couldn’t stand you.
You’ve allowed yourself to become a monster and now there isn’t a single person in your life who loves you. ”
Felicity didn’t move, a muscle twitching in her face. For a moment, Miles thought Gabriel’s words had broken through.
At her feet, the shadows coiled tighter, slipping up the bare skin of her ankles. Her expression hardened, cold and unforgiving. Untouchable. “Love is for the weak and sentimental. Power is what truly matters.”
“You haven’t always believed that.” Miles braced himself so he didn’t flinch when she whipped towards him. “My parents told me about when you were younger and friends. That you were funny and caring. A good person. My mom loved you like a sister.”
Felicity tried to hide it, but he saw her fists clench. “Your mother lied.”
“You begged her to leave with you so you didn’t have to carry this curse. You didn’t want this life, so much that you would’ve rather run away. And now you’re forcing the same nightmare on your own children.”
She bared her teeth, demonic in the candlelight. “I should have thanked your mother for abandoning me that night. She showed me the harsh truth of this world: the only ones you can rely on are family.”
“Not me.” Gabriel stared at his mom. “I won’t do it.”
“Oh, I think you will. Perhaps you simply need a little more persuasion.”
With a gasp, her head jerked back, her entire body locking up. For a long second, she was frozen still, not even breathing. Then her free hand jumped into the air as if tugged by a string, fingers clawed. They flexed, drumming at nothing, faster and faster.
The ground to Miles’s left split apart with a piercing snap that he felt in his bones. Rumbling like an angry beast, the tomb floor shifted, the crack widening into a toothless grin.
Once it was a few feet wide, it ground to a halt. Everything went still. Deep down in the hole, Miles could hear a distant whine, buzzing in his ears and growing closer. The charms around his neck burned white hot.
“I’ll offer you an easy exchange,” Felicity told Gabriel. “The life of this Warren boy for your cooperation. Decide quickly.”
Her wrist twisted violently towards the ceiling, and from the crevice, colorless gray hands emerged.
Misshapen, humanoid bodies, hazy like ghosts and infused with smoky darkness, heaved themselves out onto the ground.
Their mouths were screaming gashes, eyes hollow sockets as they writhed against the stone.
Miles had never seen anything like them. Ghosts or demons, lost souls or spirits, they didn’t belong here.
Unnaturally quick, one scuttled forward on all fours and grabbed Miles’s legs, yanking them out from underneath him. He fell back hard, elbows scraped and shoulder on fire.
“Miles!” Gabriel grabbed for him, but more of the demons crawled forward, pinning him down.
Biting back a scream, Miles thrashed, trying to escape the swarm of pawing hands. They clawed at his flesh, pressed bruises into his ribs, trying to burrow their way inside.
“Mother, stop it!” Gabriel cried.
“Agree to the ritual, and I will.” Miles could hear the satisfaction in her voice. “Before it’s too late.”