Chapter 35
NOT ENOUGH SHEEP
Rafe’s words play on a loop in my mind as I bring a steaming mug of tea to Kate.
She sits at my kitchen table with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
We came here, to the carriage house, knowing we’d have privacy.
Even though it’s the weekend, Dad has a full day of work ahead—something involving trees and drainage on the north end of the estate.
Twig stands at the sink, washing blood off his hands and his face while Kate hugs the mug between her palms and stares blankly at nothing in particular. She hasn’t spoken since we left St. Fortuna’s which would concern me more if I weren’t so distracted myself.
I pour some tea for Twig, and a mug for me, too.
But I can’t sit at the table.
I’m too revved up.
Don’t look at me like that, Selah. I am not a hero.
And yet, he saved my life.
That demon bird was coming for my head.
Instead, it lost its own.
“What were those things?” Kate finally asks in a hollow voice.
Twig dries his glasses with a towel and sits across from his sister. “From what I could tell, some sort of predatory bird.”
“Those weren’t birds, Spencer,” Kate replies, her inflection rising. “They looked like pterodactyls.”
I exchange a look with my friend.
Honestly? It’s an apt description.
Kate exhales a trembling breath. “But pterodactyls are extinct. Things like that aren’t supposed to exist.”
“They don’t in our world,” Twig says. “But in the Overlay?”
“The Overlay,” she repeats faintly.
“It’s what we call the alternate dimension.”
Kate stares into her mug. “Why were they in our dimension?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I sort of opened a rift on Thanksgiving night and they got out.”
She releases another one of those reedy laughs.
“Just the two of them. But now they’re dead, so we should be good.”
It’s a lie, of course.
We are so far from good it’s not even funny.
“You killed them with shadow,” she says, her attention straying from me to the pearl and the onyx on the counter beside me, right in front of our Christmas Yeti—a figurine of the Abominable Snowman wearing a Santa hat. A gift from Twig two years ago.
“Technically, I didn’t kill anything. That was all Twig.” I look at my friend who went full-fledged superhero with an impromptu stake like a bonafide vampire hunter. If Kate weren’t here on the verge of unraveling, we’d both be pretty pumped right now.
But she is here. And while I didn’t kill anything with shadow, Rafe did with ease. I scoop up the onyx and squeeze it in my palm.
My lacerations tingle.
Darkness oozes from the stone.
Kate scoots back in her chair, its legs scrapping against the floor.
I loosen my grip.
The shadow disintegrates.
“Sorry,” I say.
“How are you doing that?” she asks.
“Pressure.” I hold up the stone, like showing it to her will help this make more sense. “It’s a supernatural amulet with power over darkness and shadow.”
“Selah is part angel, remember?” Twig says. “A very small part, but there are traces in her blood, which allows her to wield supernatural objects.”
Kate looks like she might be sick again.
I wonder if I should grab the trash can, but she just plants her elbows on either side of her mug and holds her head in her hands.
I turn the stone over carefully. “The onyx responds to force. The ruby responds to desire. But this?” I exchange the black amulet for the pearly white one, which hasn’t done anything since coming to life inside the crypt. How does it work?
Twig’s phone buzzes against the tabletop.
He peeks at his screen. “Um, Selah?”
“What?”
“Jude is on his way.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s coming.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wants to make sure you’re okay.”
I blink at him. “You told Jude?”
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
“Then how does he—?”
A knock sounds on the door.
None of us move.
A few seconds later, there’s another knock.
Twig shifts uncomfortably. “Are you going to answer it or…?”
I hold up my hand to stop him from getting up.
Then I shrug off my coat which is in rough shape, thanks to the demon bird, and open the door.
Jude stands on the other side with one hand propped against the doorframe, his hair tousled and his coat open over a slightly rumpled hoodie. His eyes smolder as he takes me in, standing before him, alive if not completely intact.
“Selah,” he says, looking alarmed.
But before he can do anything—like run his thumb along the scratch on the side of my face—I take a lurching step backward and start counting sheep.
He looks past me, toward Kate and Twig sitting at the table.
One sheep… two sheep… three sheep.
“Can we talk?” he asks.
For a second, I consider saying no. Nope. Sorry. No talking. No looking. No standing this close. Please just leave before I start hyperventilating like Kate back at St. Fortuna’s. But he says my name again, only this time he adds a please. And my insides turn to goo.
I join him on the porch with my arms tightly crossed.
Jude pulls at his jaw. “So, you’re hanging out with Rafe now?”
“I’m not hanging out with Rafe.”
“You’re breaking into crypts together.”
“How do you—” I stop in the middle of the question. Because I already know. Rafe told him. Rafe probably reveled in telling him.
“If you wanted to get into the crypt,” Jude says. “I would have helped you.”
“I know you would have.”
“Then why didn’t you ask me?”
“You know the answer to that question.”
Jude growls. “Accepting my help isn’t going to make the mark spread.”
“Spending time with you might.”
“Selah,” he says, his voice raw. “Just because Rafe spun a theory doesn’t make it true.”
“Is it spreading?”
He doesn’t answer.
I cross my arms tighter. “Is the mark still spreading?”
His face hardens. For a moment, he looks like he’s chewing on a mouthful of rocks. Then he answers with a very terse, “No,” like the mark no longer spreading infuriates him beyond reason.
He shoves his hands into his hair, turns on his heel, and takes two frustrated steps away.
When he faces me, his eyes are dark, his jaw tight.
If there were a picture next to brooding in the dictionary, it would be his, right now.
It really isn’t fair that such a tortured expression should look this good on anyone.
I screw up one eye and focus on sheep.
Eight sheep… nine sheep…
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Counting,” I say.
“Selah.”
Ten sheep… eleven sheep…
“I scheduled an appointment with the specialist.”
I look at him. “In Seattle?”
He nods. “I was planning to leave tomorrow night, but I don’t feel so great about that plan right now, given the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
“You were attacked.”
“By a couple of creatures that are now very, very dead.” I take a step toward him. “Jude, you should keep the appointment. Go to the specialist.”
He scrubs his hand down his face.
“You don’t have to worry about me. The demon thingies I accidentally let out are no longer alive.” I hold up the pearl in my hand. “This isn’t opening a rift. Neither is the onyx. And the plant has been burnt to a crisp. So if you’re worried about me doing something stupid, I literally can’t.”
“You’re not going to sneak up on Lainey and knock her out?”
“How much did Rafe tell you?”
“I hate that you’re spending time with him.”
The muscles across my chest pull uncomfortably tight. I hate it, too. I hate everything about this situation.
“He can’t be trusted,” he says, stepping closer. “You know that, right?”
“Of course I do.”
He touches my cheek.
Heat sparks across my skin.
Fear grabs me by the throat.
I step back.
But it’s too late.
I am filled with yearning.
So much blasted yearning.
I close my eyes.
Sheep.
Sheep.
Sheep.
I count them frolicking in fields, hopping over fences.
Fat sheep.
White sheep.
Baa baa black sheep.
“Selah,” he says.
But I can’t meet his gaze, so I look toward the manor instead, trying very hard to hold myself together. “Do you think the specialist will be able to help?”
“I think,” he says, dipping his chin, trying to gather my attention, “that if you’re going to avoid me until this is resolved, then it’s time to resolve it.”
I bite my lip, praying it can be resolved.
“Just do me another favor?”
I look at him, then.
“Stay away from Rafe while I’m gone. And try not to do anything reckless.”
His request makes my throat tight.
I’m not a cruel person.
I don’t want to hurt Jude. I don’t want to shut him out. But I don’t know any other way to protect him. Because being in his presence like this? Seeing him? Conversing with him?
There aren’t enough sheep in the world.