Chapter 15
Saturday, the smell of bacon tickles my nose.
I tossed and turned for most of the night, so I crept downstairs sometime before dawn to sit in Gran’s worn armchair.
Being close to her in a sense helped me to finally drift off.
Someone’s thrown a blanket over me, and the shades are still drawn to keep most of the light out.
I fold the blanket and stroll over to the windows, pulling open the shades and allowing the golden light of the morning to spill into the room.
I’m feeling confident today. I found the Hightower girl all on my own and uncovered two of their secret hideouts. Gramps and the rest of the Council need to know. I can’t wait to rub Aunt Lorraine’s nose in it.
The sounds of breakfast cooking hit me as soon as I push through the swinging door of the kitchen. Bacon sizzles on the griddle next to two thick globs of pancake batter and chocolate chips. Orion’s got his back to me at the stove, loading up an omelet with cheddar cheese, chives, and peppers.
I walk up behind him and tug on one of his mini twists. He must’ve woken up on the right side of the bed, because he doesn’t swat me away or scowl. Instead, he laughs and points his spatula toward the platter of food on the counter. “Morning, sis. I hope you’re hungry, because I made way too much.”
“I could hear my stomach before I even opened my eyes.” I snatch a piece of bacon off the plate on the counter and take a bite.
Perfectly crunchy. If there’s one thing Orion inherited from our gran, it was absolutely her skill in the kitchen.
I, on the other hand, can’t manage to make toast without burning it to a crisp.
“I already made myself an omelet. Just gotta heat it up.” Orion gingerly folds over the egg in the skillet. “This one is yours. Hot and fresh.”
I pinch his cheek. “Aw, you made mine last. So, you do love me, then?”
He swats me away. “I was taught to be polite,” he retorts.
“Uh-huh, yeah, then why are you still such a gremlin all the time?”
He stabs the spatula in my direction. “Keep running your mouth and I’m eating both of them!”
Oh, I love getting under his skin. Just as much as he likes getting under mine. That’s what siblings are for, after all.
I take the orange juice out of the fridge and pour us each a glass.
Once Orion takes the pancakes and the last strips of bacon off the griddle, we stuff our plates (and our faces) with food.
Orion drizzles syrup over everything and digs in, but I work my way around my plate in a methodical circle.
Omelet first, then bacon and a handful of grapes, before tackling my pancake.
When we’ve both satisfied our stomachs, I rinse the plates and load up the dishwasher. Despite the temporary joy that breakfast provided, the stress of life worms its way right back in. “Thanks for the breakfast, but it doesn’t make up for you being MIA the other day.”
“When?”
I roll my eyes. I’m still heated at the fact that his phone was off the day I followed Aria to Crescent Moon.
“I needed your help Wednesday, and I couldn’t reach you!”
He sighs and tips his chin up to stare at the ceiling. “It obviously wasn’t that big of a deal. You lived.”
Fury ignites within me. Every inch of my skin is flushed with searing heat. “Yeah, sure, I did it without you, but there might come a time when I really need you, Ri. People are dying, and I’ve got to figure out how to save them before I—”
I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
He’s silent for a long moment. A frown works its way onto his expression as a muscle in his cheek clenches.
“I’m going to lose my sister, and it doesn’t seem like there’s much we can do about that.
” He reaches up to grasp the back of his neck.
“Visions are set, aren’t they? As much as you and Gramps want to believe that you’ll be able to stop it from happening, I’m not going to sit around and pretend.
So, excuse me if I need to take the edge off every now and again. ”
“Ri.”
“Everybody’s dead or dying, Mikaela.” His voice cracks on my name. “And I can’t take it.”
He slumps down into a chair and buries his face in his hands. For the first time in nearly a year, he cries in front of me.
I don’t know what to do other than kneel in front of him and touch his elbow. “Maybe Gran was wrong. She was only human, after all.”
The thought has slowly taken shape in my mind for the past couple of days. If I stick to what I’ve always been taught, then there’s nothing for me to do but wait to die. The only way I can try to take my own destiny into my hands is to take Gran off her pedestal. A little, anyway.
It hurts to think of her as less than perfect, but I can’t sit here and allow Death to take me without a fight.
I won’t do that to Orion or to myself.
“What’s going on?”
We both look up to find Gramps standing in the doorway. Orion jolts up and crosses the room to start up the coffee maker. He keeps his face angled away to hide the tear tracks along his cheeks.
“I found evidence against the Hightowers.” My statement draws Gramps’s gaze away from Orion and squarely onto me.
“I’m going to need an explanation, and not on an empty stomach.”
After Gramps fixes himself a plate and Orion brews a pot of coffee, the three of us sit down at the table as I play the recording of Gloria and Aria.
Gramps’s expression is stoic up until Gloria says, “Their suffering has only begun.” He sets down his fork and pushes his nearly untouched plate away.
“Well,” Orion says as he claps his hands together, “mystery solved. What do we do now? Hex their entire bloodline? Kill ’em?”
“Hush,” Gramps scolds. He glowers at me. “What you did was incredibly dangerous. Were you by yourself?”
“No. Lizzie and Malik were with me.” I exchange a glance with Orion.
“We’d better hope that boy kept his mouth shut. The last thing I need is Lorraine telling the other Council members about this before we do.”
I lean forward. “Is this enough proof?”
“Of course not! It certainly proves that they’re aware of what’s happening within our coven, but it isn’t the smoking gun we’re looking for.” He stands and paces the length of the kitchen. Deep frown lines are etched into his face.
“There’s something the two of you should know. The Council and I initially made the decision not to share this information with anyone, but I recognize that keeping it from you could harm the investigation.”
Realizing that the rest of the Elders don’t consider me a full member of the Council stings. I haven’t ascended officially yet, but as the future Queen, I shouldn’t be kept in the dark.
Gramps grips the counter and stares us both down. “What do either of you know about demons?”
A chill runs down my spine.
“Nothing,” Orion says.
“They aren’t real,” I assert. “They’re something from the plot of a horror movie. Nothing more.”
Gramps points at me. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He walks back over to the table to sit. “Your lack of knowledge is by design. Years ago, we made a conscious decision to erase all mention of demons within our coven. No good comes of messing with evil like that. What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”
That’s an excuse that people throughout time have used to justify widespread censorship. It’s something I would expect from a politician like Mike Dupree, not Gran and Gramps. We deserve a full and complete picture of the world we live in.
“You’re saying that demons are behind this?” It’s impossible to mask the anger in my tone. My voice wavers as I speak. “Who else knows?”
“Just the Elders.” Gramps’s jaw tightens. “I didn’t realize until James Peterson died with a demon’s mark branded on his forehead.”
I think back to the mysterious symbol I saw in Aunt Roberta’s memory. Orion opens his mouth to speak, but I reach into his mind and share the memory with him, too.
His mouth gapes open. “Holy shit. This doesn’t seem real.”
“This is as real as it can get,” Gramps says. “The Hightowers practice a brand of dark magic that most witches won’t touch. But if they’ve progressed to summoning, then we’ve got a serious problem on our hands.”
“I think what we’re dealing with now is pretty serious,” I retort. I tug on my braids and groan. “I can’t believe you kept this from us!”
Gramps’s eyes harden. “I’m telling you now.”
“Demons can be banished, though, right?” Orion asks. “Can we just use magic to take them out?”
“Magic is useless against a demon, boy. They will devour any-and everything they touch. If they are let loose in the world, they will have free rein to destroy everything we hold dear.” Gramps holds my gaze.
“Your grandmother made the decision to keep the younger generation in the dark. She felt it was the best way to keep temptation at bay.”
Even after what I said to Orion about questioning Gran, it still hurts to realize that she really wasn’t perfect.
I don’t doubt that she did what she felt she had to, but keeping that knowledge from us feels like a massive mistake.
Our coven is woefully unprepared to deal with demons.
I don’t know anything about them other than how they’ve been presented in TV and movies.
Should I be searching for pentagrams and upside-down crosses? And if I came face-to-face with one, how would I even banish it if my magic is useless against it?
“What do we do now, Gramps?”
His lips thin. “Find the smoking gun, my girl. Then we attack.”