The Blue Woods (38 page)

I blinked. We were all glowing too; not just our auras, but our feathers and fur, even our eyes. And I felt it within me, the magic of not just the Waterfall but all seven sites. We had bound them together, under Benandanti control, all seven sources of magic well and truly ours forever.

A scream of terror ripped across the Waterfall.

I looked up. The Harpy screamed again, a sound so filled with fear and pain and rage that I wanted to cover my ears. In the stream and sky above us, the rest of the
Concilio Argento
joined her, each of them shrieking and twisting and writhing. Nerina and Dario backed away, and even from my vantage point below I could see their eyes wide with horror.

On the banks of the Waterfall all around us, just outside the Benandanti's barrier, the remaining Malandanti collapsed to the ground, each of their cries as painful and terror-filled as their
Concilio
's.

What's happening to them?
Jonah asked, his gaze fixed on his former Clanmates' trauma as if it were a car crash he couldn't look away from.

They are losing their magic,
Dario answered.

What? Why?
I asked.

It belongs to the Benandanti now.

One by one, the Malandanti on the shore disappeared. Their auras fractured and broke apart, the animal within vanishing into thin air.
They've lost the ability to separate their souls from their bodies,
Dario said.
They're going back to their human forms now, never to return as animals.

I fluttered down to Jonah's side. He shrank against me, his eyes dark as the forest while he watched.
That was almost me,
he whispered for my mind only.
As much as I hate the Malandanti, I still love—

—the power to transform,
I finished for him. I knew that love, deep in my soul. That power was part of me. To lose it would be to spend the rest of my life feeling incomplete.

So without the magic . . .
I began. But without finishing, I spun to look upward again. The rest of their Clans gone, the
Concilio Argento
were frozen but still there, still solidly in their transformed state. If they had lost the power to transform, why weren't they disappearing too?

But then they began to disintegrate, and I knew the terrible truth.

The
Concilio Argento
had not just lost their power to transform. They had lost their immortality. Hundreds of years old, they could not survive without that magic. The Harpy screamed again as her tail turned to dust, the years eating away at the rest of her body, inch by inch. They would not be returning to their human bodies like the rest of the Malandanti. They were all dying where they were, the last sight they would ever see the brilliant blue woods the Benandanti had created with their victory.

Nerina floated until she was right in front of the Harpy. Her powerful wings—so alive, so strong—beat up and down, taunting her old Guide. What was it like to stare down your enemy in triumph after so many hundreds of years of war? I could not imagine, and a warm gratitude spread through me that I would never have to.

Bit by bit, the
Concilio Argento
crumbled into dust, until there was nothing left but wind.

It was over.

We had won.

The true impact of that shot through me. I swooped out of the air and into the water, letting it wash over me like a baptism.

The seven most powerful sites of magic in the world finally belonged to the Benandanti and would be safe for generations to come.

I broke the surface and soared, water raining down from my feathers. And that meant . . .

I was free.

Family Comes in Many Shapes and Sizes

Bree

The magic coursing through me was stronger than anything I'd ever felt, stronger than the Olive Grove had been when I'd stood on that hallowed ground. All around me, the Benandanti celebrated, their cheers like champagne bottles popping open in my head. But I couldn't rest. Not yet.

Alessia. Jonah. Come on.

Her wings dripping with water, Alessia swooped over my head.
What? Where?

There is no way in hell I'm letting the Rabbit and Pratt Webster get off scot-free.
I clambered out of the stream, congratulating myself for choosing my over-the-knee boots for our let's-blow-the-Malandanti-off-the-face-of-the-earth battle. Somehow I'd sensed that I'd wind up in the water at some point, and boy did I call that one.
I'll bet good money they're going to hightail it out of here, and that's not happening on my watch.

Jonah dashed up the rocks and met me on the bank at the top of the Waterfall.
I know where that weasel lives,
he said.
Let's go.

But before we could get one foot into the forest, Dario blocked our path, his scales flashing red and black in the blue light that dripped from the trees.
The magic will work beyond the sites,
he said.
It will find its way into the world. Justice will be done.

Yeah, well, I don't have the patience to wait for that,
I said, planting my hands on my hips.
Those two assholes killed my father.

And mine,
said Alessia, swooping low so that she was right in Dario's face.

It's too personal. We can't just hope that karma does its thing,
I said.
So you can either get out of our way or help us get there faster by giving me a ride.

The Dragon stared at us for a moment, then lowered his front legs so I could climb on his back. We rose high over the treetops and kept Jonah's sleek white form in sight as we raced back toward the town. Far ahead on the horizon, the pink light of dawn stretched over Maine. It had been the longest night of my life, but one that would live in me forever.

This way,
Jonah said and swerved off Main Street, down a side street not far from the school. All of the houses were dark, their occupants still sleeping, the whole town oblivious to what had been happening just beyond its edges. And hopefully would stay that way for a really long time to come. But one house, at the end of the road, was lit up like a freaking jack-o'-lantern, its windows blazing with artificial light.

Dirt kicked up from beneath Jonah's paws as he ran down the driveway. Dario landed heavily, and I tumbled off his back.
I can't stay here,
he said.
Imagine what would happen if someone woke up and saw a dragon out his front window.

I would actually pay good money to see that, but yeah, not exactly the reason we were here.
See you soon,
I said and chased after Jonah, Alessia winging overhead.

Jonah didn't even stop at the front door; he just crashed into it with such force that it blew off its hinges. He leapt over the fallen door and skidded to a halt in the foyer of the house. I climbed in after him and followed as he trotted straight to the back of the house. Frantic sounds of thuds and crashes, a machine whirring, and two people shouting at each other echoed out from the open door all the way at the end of the hall.

The moment we appeared in the doorway, all the noise stopped.

“You!” Pratt yelled and launched himself at Jonah.

Did he seriously think he could take on a massive wolf? Jonah had him pinned beneath his front paws in the blink of an eye.

I pushed past them, deeper into the room, my gaze fixed on the skinny, sweater-vested bastard behind him.

An industrial-sized shredder sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by towering boxes filled with all sorts of papers I was sure the FBI would love to get their hands on. So this was where all those documents had gone, the ones they'd smuggled out of the Guild, the absence of which was the only thing keeping Pratt out of prison. I stepped around the shredder and the boxes, and the Rabbit backed up against the wall. In my high-heeled boots, I was taller than him, and I could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that the magic still clung to me, still rose off my body in wisps. “Tell me,” I said, my voice just above a whisper, “where is your power now?”

He straightened his shoulders, as if he had anything left that he could use against me. “You don't deserve the magic,” he spat. Saliva landed on the toe of my black boot.

I curled my lip. “I think the fact that I have it and you don't would indicate that I do deserve it. More than you ever did.”

There was a small commotion behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Pratt scrambling to crawl across the floor. Alessia dove and hooked her talons into his ankles. Pratt yelped in pain, his upper body thrashing.

The Rabbit reached for me, his fingers itching for my throat, but before he could touch me, I flung my hand out. In one swoosh, he flew up to the ceiling and hung there, suspended by the ropes of Angel Falls magic I wound around him. Keeping one hand high, holding him in place, I pulled my cell phone out of the back pocket of my jeans. My thumb poised to dial, I looked up into his face. I saw the fear there, the deep knowledge of what the rest of his life was going to look like dawning in his eyes.

The line rang and clicked into connection. “Federal Bureau of Investigation, how may I direct your call?”

It might've been the ass-crack of morning, but apparently the FBI didn't sleep. “I need the head of the investigation into the Guild. Tell them I have two key players in custody.”

The operator put me on hold, and for a minute we were all forced to listen to a really bad Muzak version of “Don't Stop Believin'.” Then the line clicked again and a clipped, all-business-no-play voice said, “This is Agent Amelia Rosen. You're calling in regard to the Guild investigation?”

“Yes,” I said. “I'm standing here in a room with Pratt Webster, Head of Operations, and . . .” I trailed off and narrowed my eyes at the Rabbit. Covering my phone's microphone with my thumb, I said, “What the hell is your name, anyway?”

For an instant, he looked defiant, like he was in any position to refuse me. I twisted the red ropes tighter, and a tendril of smoke touched his bare skin. “Jeremy Bush,” he gasped.

“Jeremy Bush,” I said into my phone.

There was a deep intake of breath on the other end. “Bush? You—have him?”

“I'm staring right at him.”

“Lady, I don't know who you are, but you're getting a medal.” I could hear the rustle of paper and a pen scratching across its surface. “We've been looking for that guy for weeks. Every time we got close, he disappeared.”

“Yeah, he used to be able to do that real well. Don't worry, his disappearing days are over.” I twisted the ropes again, just for good measure. “Who is he, anyway?”

“We have no idea what his real title was,” Agent Rosen said, “but whenever there was a mess to be cleaned up, he was the one to do it. Usually with a lot of casualties on the side. Listen, where are you now?”

“Twin Willows, Maine.”

“Jesus, where the hell is that? Never mind. I'm chartering a plane as we speak. I can be there in a few hours. Can you secure them for that long?”

I looked back at Pratt. He'd resigned to his fate beneath Jonah and Alessia's grasp, his hands clutched to his head. I swung my gaze up to Jeremy Bush, the Rabbit no longer. He gave me one last glare and turned his face to the wall.

“Oh, yeah,” I told Agent Rosen. “We're not going anywhere.”

Three Weeks Later

“Bree? You ready to go?”

“In a minute!” I swiped lip gloss on and stepped back to survey myself in the mirror. A breath of wind gusted in from the open bathroom window, lifting my hair off my neck. I grinned and raced down the stairs to meet Mom.

“Is Cal meeting us over there?”

“Yeah.” I grabbed my handbag from the counter in the kitchen and opened the front door for Mom, whose hands were laden with two canvas bags filled to the brim with Prosecco, orange juice, gourmet cheeses and meats from the fancy deli in Willow Heights. “He went over early this morning to help unload all the construction stuff.” I closed the door behind her. “Like the do-gooder he is.”

“You could do a lot worse.”

“I
have
done a lot worse.”

Mom laughed and kicked beneath the rear of the car to pop the truck. “How are things with you two anyway?”

A month ago, it would've been insane to talk to my mother about this. I don't think I'd ever told her about any boy in all the years I'd been dating them. But—and I felt like a total shit for thinking this—somehow in my dad's absence the three of us had gotten closer, banded together, and become a real family. It was like he'd pushed us together in a final act of love.

“Good, I guess,” I said as I slid into the passenger seat. “We'll see what happens when he goes to Yale in the fall.”

“Well, you have your whole life ahead of you,” Mom said as she started the car. “You don't have to settle down with someone at the age of seventeen.”