The Devil Dances (22 page)

pretty much know what to look for when it comes to recognizing a witch.
Sometimes, like with Morgana, it’s pretty damned easy to spot. I knew what she was the first day she walked into my life. Others, like Meredith (who, let’s face it, looks like your great-aunt Matilda from Milwaukee) take a little getting used to. But all practitioners of the Craft give off a faint vibration. Not much, but a little. Enough.

As I drove back to the Knapp farm, I tried desperately to remember if I’d sensed anything in the last few days from anyone. Mary Knapp came to mind immediately. She had the Sight, and Vivian seemed to be in love with her. I wondered if she was the one. But if she was, what was she gaining by summoning Cernunnos? It was her own child who had suffered. Anyway, she didn’t exactly strike me as evil, though that meant nothing in the greater scheme of things. Just because people do bad things doesn’t mean they’re evil; sometimes they’re just desperate and stupid.

Then I wondered if it wasn’t Caleb Knapp who’d been the witch. I mean, what did I know about him, other than the fact he was dead? Maybe he made a deal with Cernunnos to get even with the colony who had shunned him. Except that meant he’d more or less thrown Isaac under the bus with the rest of them. Would he do that to his lover? I didn’t know. I only knew one thing for certain: I had to find that witch, whoever he or she was.

I drove up to the farm, scattering chickens as I went, and got out of the jeep and crept upstairs to my room. The house was abuzz with morning activity, but I kept my trench coat belted tighter than Mike Hammer as I climbed the stairs. The women were so busy getting breakfast cooked and the children ready for school, they hardly noticed me, and the men were still filing in from their early morning duties.

I didn’t have a very well-formed plan in my mind, more a notion that I had to do some serious room-tossing if I had a prayer of finding something that would point me toward that witch. I’d need to wait until the men went back out to the fields, then try to toss as many rooms as I could. But when I stepped inside our bedroom, I saw that Vivian was curled up on the window seat that faced out over the back of the farm. She had eschewed the Swartzcopf dress for a tank top, a pair of her usual blue jeans, and one of my shirts that she was clutching around her shoulders.

She turned as I walked in, and her face was drawn and paper white, her red hair hanging in dark mahogany loops around her pale face. I realized she’d been crying.

My heart was suddenly in my throat. “Viv… are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. She sat up straighter, but then clutched her belly like she had a stomachache. “I’m sorry, Nick. I’m sorry about what I did… setting you on fire like that. I’m so fucking sorry. Oh, God, I’m such a fucking monster…”

I closed the door. “You’re not a monster. Don’t be ridiculous.”

She fluttered a hand in front of her face. “It’s almost like there’s two people in my head these days, and I know one of them isn’t me. I knew what I did last night was wrong—it was wrong for me and for us. I hurt you, but I couldn’t help it.”

I went and sat down beside her. I cradled her against my side and let her cry her heart out against my new coat. I knew she was crying about what she’d done to her boyfriend, Mitchell, all those years ago as much as what she’d done to me. Her scars were still so tender. “Don’t worry about that. It’s this place. I promise you, you’re not a monster, and there’s nothing wrong with you, except that you need to get out of here.”

“You’re sending me away?”

I rubbed her shoulder. “I’d like you to go to Merry’s house, at least for a day or two. Can you do that?”

She nodded. “Yeah. No more resisting you. No more bitching at you or giving you a hard time.”

“Aw, I like it when you give me a hard time.”

She smiled through her tears.

I used the sleeve of my brand new trench coat to wipe the wetness from the corners of her eyes. She looked up at me with a grateful smile. She reached for the tie on my coat, but I stopped her hand. “I have to tell you something,” I said. “Or rather… I have to show you. And you’re probably going to freak. It might even repulse you.”

Her eyes slowly grew in her small, catlike face. “Did I hurt you? Oh, Christ…”

“I’m not hurt. I’m just… I…” I stopped and stood up, turning to face her on the window seat. “I can’t really explain this. I need to show you.”

She sat there, primly, her eyes serious. “Go ahead.”

There were curtains over the window, but I pulled the shade just to make certain. Then my shaky fingers struggled to undo the tie on the coat. As I shrugged it off my shoulders, the fabric caught on the wings and I had to maneuver a little to get it over them. I dropped the coat on the floor behind me.

I watched her face, which had so far not changed expression. I spread the wings to either side, trying to be careful not to knock anything valuable off shelves or furniture. They weren’t small wings by any definition. Her face paled further and her eyes widened.

“Vivian?”

“Are… are they real?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She stood up and brushed her fingers through the long, blue-black guide feathers on my right wing. The very tips were brushed white, a sort of reversal of my dad’s wings, which were white with black tips. Some people might think they were pretty. Well, they could have them.

Finally, she jerked her hand back, as if I might burn her. “They’re real.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus.”

“I don’t think he has much to do with this, frankly.”

She glared at me. “What do you mean? What’s happening to you, Nick?”

I’d been thinking about this a lot, of course. Amidst all the Cernunnos stuff, the witch stuff, everything, I’d been rolling this question around the back of my brain quite a bit. “I’m not really sure, Vivian, but I think I might be Ascending.”

Vivian was good enough to fetch me a proper breakfast while I stayed hidden in our room. When she returned with a dish covered with a gingham tea towel, the first thing she said was, “How can this be happening? How can you suddenly Ascend?”

I looked at the overcooked bacon on the plate and let the towel fall back. “My dad said it’s inevitable. He has eight wings and endless array of Gucci suits. I just need three more pairs and the suits, and I’m all set.”

She didn’t laugh at my sorry excuse for a joke. “I mean now,” she said, raising her voice. “Here. Now. Why now?”

“I don’t know.” Which wasn’t exactly the truth. I mean, probably it had something to do with wielding my power so irresponsibly on Cernunnos. “I think it has something to do with letting the power get away from me.
Voilà
, a pair of wings and a license to Ascend.” I had already filled her in on my little excursion in the woods the night before. The only thing I’d left out was what Cernunnos had said about her and my reaction to it. Maybe I was trying to be a hero again, but I just couldn’t let her think she was responsible in any way for this fuckup.

“You mean you used your power and it started a… chain reaction of some kind?” She stood there, clutching her hands, staring at me with such pain I knew I had to say something.

“Whatever the reason, it’s stopped now. I’m okay. See?” I stood up again to show her I was unscathed. “No Ascension. I’m still Nick. Now,” I reached for her, to guide her to the highboy so she could get her things, “we need to get you packed…”

She pulled away. “And you’re going to search the house for that witch like that?” She indicated my appearance. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I have the coat.” I turned a little too quickly and almost knocked the pitcher off the top of the highboy.

Vivian caught it and rolled her eyes. “Nick… you looked ridiculous in that coat, like a cartoon Dick Tracy.” She pushed me back down onto the window seat and shoved the pitcher into my hands. “Let me search the house…”

I started to protest, but she held up a hand for silence. “Number one reason being, Mary trusts me more than you. Number two, I won’t scare everyone I run into.”

“Hey now… you were supposed to listen to me, do what I tell you. And I want you to leave…”

Vivian smiled as she leaned over me and kissed me on the nose. That flashed me a bit of boob, the only highlight of an otherwise crappy day for me. “I’m half-demon. I’m inclined to lie. Now just sit tight, babe, and watch an expert work.”

I sat tight for as long as I could, I really did. But I soon found myself pacing the room, shaking my wings and scratching at my shoulders.

Several times I picked up my cell to call Morgana and discuss the matter of my sudden Ascension, but each time, I put the phone away. I was afraid. Afraid Morgana, my Morgana, would learn about this and look at me differently. Maybe it would even frighten her. Certainly, it would confirm her suspicions—that I was maybe not such a nice guy going down a very dark road. Then there was my dad’s number; he’d given it to me recently, in case of emergencies. What this an emergency? But what was I going to say to
him
? I didn’t want his advice. I didn’t want him gloating over this. I didn’t want to hear his pleased voice on the other end of the line telling me
I told you so, son
.

I picked up the phone, put it away, and picked it up again. I thought about punching a wall, but that would be less than helpful. Finally, I laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, hands clenched together and resting on my stomach, both wings spread out around me because there was no other comfortable way I could lie, I soon discovered. Sleeping was going to be a bitch now. Then again, who could sleep, under the circumstances?

I picked up the phone once more and held it in front of my eyes, doing several Google searches of Cernunnos that were less than helpful. Cernunnos the Horned God. Cernunnos the Wild One. I had a once-exiled god trying to breed an army of super-warriors that would likely overrun the earth if I did nothing about it, and I was stuck here in my room, unable to do anything but play on the fucking Internet.

Around noon, I’d finally had enough. I sat up and quickly wrote Vivian a note, leaving it on the bed, then moved to the window seat and slid open the big, six-paned window. It was a two-story drop to the gravel drive below. I climbed out onto the gutters, balancing uneasily on my heels, my coat sleeves tied around my waist. There was no one behind the house, and no life in the fields at the moment but cows.