Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
For a moment, no one knows how to react. The wine dripping down Hecate’s shocked expression would be comical if she didn’t have godlike powers—all of which are about to be focused on Poppy.
Poppy, who, bless her, stands in the face of certain doom and throws a fist into the air. “My body! My soul! Soul possession’s got to go!”
It’s a well-known protest chant of the anti-possession crowd. They’re a small, loud community of ex-syndicate grunts who decided to fight back. The movement hasn’t gained any traction, because, well, generally speaking, nobody lives long after they’ve stood up to the syndicates.
There’s half a beat of silence before CJ stands and chants with her, “My body! My soul! Soul possession’s got to go!”
“What do we do?” Rook hisses as Poppy and CJ continue. I dig my fingers into his knee to shut him up.
A man in a security uniform, complete with one of those helmets with a face guard, marches forward and quickly binds their hands.
“Exorcise your right to say no!” Poppy yells at the crowd as she’s led away by the guard. CJ goes somewhat more stoically.
“We’re just going to let them get taken?” Rook whispers.
“Yes,” I say simply.
Pig cadavers. The necessary sacrifice. Once someone finds what they’re looking for, they stop looking. Just like Hecate will stop looking for intruders now, and we will be free to continue the job.
When I don’t explain myself to Rook, he leans away from me. “Ah, I see. No honor among thieves and all that.”
I turn to him and smile. “If we had honor, we wouldn’t be thieves.”
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Hecate says, her voice magically amplified so all the guests can hear. “We’ve made extensive measures to ensure your safety, but you can never plan for every contingency. Which I’m sure you remember from your time among the living.”
The audience chuckles.
“I would like to welcome you to return to the event, and as a token—”
We never get to hear what token of goodwill Hecate plans to extend because an explosion goes off behind her.
There’s an eruption of smoke and debris as the crowd takes cover. Rook and I are up and running before the dust clears. Screams fill the air, and no one seems to notice they’re not coughing from smoke filling their lungs, not injured from flying debris.
By the time the smoke dissipates—and, in a glittering neon, the words Possess this!
bracketed by two images of middle fingers appear above the crowd—Rook and I have slipped back into the museum.
Behind us, Hecate is calling for an evacuation.
No one notices the dark specter of wings that soars across the sky just before several smaller explosions go off around the perimeter of the amphitheater, each clearing to display another anti-possession slogan.
Dead inside? Not on my life!
Over your dead body!
Say “boo” to possession!
Tolliver came up with that one.
As a familiar, Crowlene should offer the normal benefits of her kind: an extra pair of eyes (metaphorically speaking, since she only has the one), unwavering loyalty, free pest control.
But my spell must have gone wrong, because she provides none of that.
She can, however, fly unnoticed in the dark and drop bits of sea glass spelled so that when they hit the ground, they cause dramatic, yet ultimately harmless, explosions. Perfect distraction.
Crowlene was a little early, but her timing’s never been great. Better early than late, I guess, which she is far more often. I silently wish Poppy and CJ luck as Rook and I slip through the museum. The red emergency lights cast an eerie glow in the darkness.
We find our way back to the Temple of Hercules, where across from us, Hercules’s statue holds his unfortunate-looking weapon. I wait for a moment, listening for approaching footsteps, but all I hear are distant screams.
Honestly, it’s a bit much. The explosions have stopped by now, and even if they hadn’t, all the guests are already Dead. Bunch of drama queens, if you ask me.
We don’t have much time. An efficient evacuation of a building this size should take about two and a half minutes.
In the event of an emergency, most people would call the fire department or police, but I doubt Hecate wants to involve an institution that doesn’t have loyalties to her syndicate.
She probably has her own team trained for this sort of thing, and Tolliver will only be able to hold them off for so long.
My estimate is ten minutes tops before the Coven realizes all the explosions were harmless, so we have to get on with the job.
We didn’t come here to cause chaos. We came here to steal a book.
Ugh, codex.
I step toward the display case, the only sounds my harsh breath and the distant mayhem. The air smells of sweat and must and the sea air. A halo of light shines on the case.
But the grimoire is gone.