Incubus (78 page)

I blotted my face with a towel, hiding the guilt I was afraid I couldn’t conceal if Lucas was staring

into my eyes. When I pulled the towel away, Lucas was drinking his water.

“I should probably get back to my place,” I said. “Fiedler’s on my case about my grades and I’ve

got a quiz in English tomorrow.”

“Right. See you at dinner?”

“See you.” I left the basement, hurrying up the stairs. When I got home, Seth was sitting on the

foot of our staircase, waiting for me.

“I found the last two ingredients on our shopping list,” he said.

“Careful,” I murmured. We couldn’t afford to get careless, and just blurt things out.

“No one’s home,” Seth said, shrugging my caution off. “Come on. We can make it there and back

before dinner.”

“No,” I said, more firmly than I’d intended. Seth looked at me, startled.

“Is something wrong?” He seemed to shrink into himself. He made me think of an abused puppy,

expecting another kick.

“Sorry,” I relented. “Sorry. What did you find?”

“The tinctures,” Seth said. “I found an herbalist who’s totally anal about her preparations. She’s

got several varieties of tincture of rose hips, including the dog rose, and she’s got the juniper one we

need, too.”

“Can we go tomorrow instead?” I asked. “It’s just, we’re supposed to be here, so if Dad gets home

and we’re gone—”

“Sure. I totally get it.” Seth folded up his ingredients list and shoved it into his pocket.

“Did you finish hanging the blossoms to dry?”

“I did, indeed,” Seth said. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Believe it or not,” I smiled weakly. “Study.”

We were both bent over our textbooks when Dad came home that night. He didn’t say anything,

but I could tell he was pleased. I shoved down the wave of rising guilt. He thought we were playing by

the rules; he didn’t know the truth. He didn’t know we’d spent the day collecting ingredients for the

ritual instead of going to class. But with less than two weeks to go before winter solstice, I had to

prioritize—and that meant the ritual came first.

The next day was Friday. I couldn’t afford to skip another lunch, not with Lucas obviously watching

me. But I had a study period right before physics, and if we drove fast, Seth and I could make it to the

herbalist’s and back before I missed any class time at all.

Sneaking off campus was becoming uncomfortably easy. I met Seth by my car and we pulled out

of the campus parking lot, no one the wiser.

We drove straight to the little shop tucked into the outskirts of Old Town.

An old-fashioned brass bell hanging over the door tinkled merrily as Seth and I entered the

cramped shop. It was a tiny room, and very crowded. The walls were lined with narrow shelves, and

two more freestanding shelves took a big bite out of the available floor space. We had to walk single

file down the aisles.

“Hello? May I help you?” I turned as a plump woman looked up from a table at the back of the

shop. Her face was weathered with lines born of too much sun-exposure, but her eyes were kind. She

wore a loose cotton shirt died indigo and her dark brown hair was pulled up in a comfortably messy

bun.

“We’re here for a couple of tinctures,” I said.

“I called in the order yesterday,” Seth added. “Seth Linwood?”

“Oh dear,” the woman said, looking at us kindly. “I—thought you were a bit older.”

Seth and I glanced at each other, confused.

“My tinctures are alcoholic in nature,” she explained. “I can’t sell them to minors.”

“We’re not going to drink them,” I said.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” she pointed to a sign that read,
We do not sell alcohol to minors.
“I’m

afraid I can’t make any exceptions. I don’t relish the idea of going to prison.”

“But—” I started.

“We’ll look around,” Seth said. “Maybe there’s something else that will work.”

“Good idea,” the herbalist said. “I’m here if you have any questions.”

In the corner of the shop, I looked at Seth. “I thought it had to be a tincture.”

“It does,” he said.

“So what are you planning to—?”

“Not me. You.” Seth met my eyes directly. “Of the two of us, which one can turn herself

invisible?”

It took me half a second to figure out what he was asking. “You want me to rob her?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t
want
you to rob her. But she won’t sell us the tinctures, and we need them.

Put some money in her drawer if you want. Here.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a few

twenties. “That should more than cover it.”

“I don’t...” I glanced at the woman, nervous. She was watching us closely. I felt like a thief

already.

“You’re the one who wanted to do this quickly,” Seth reminded me. “Just go outside. I’ll distract

her. You can come back in all cloaked up, do your thing, and we can get back to school.”

“I don’t even know what they look like,” I protested.

“She’s got them set aside for me. Check the back.”

I examined the back of the shop. There was an open curtain separating the shop from the

storeroom. I wouldn’t even have to move it aside.

“Good,” Seth said, seeing my decision. He turned back to the woman. “So what other things do you

have with juniper in them?” he asked.

I left the store, propping the door open with a rock. My heart thumped loudly in my ears. A few

pedestrians walked past the shop outside. Too many eyes. I slipped around the side of the building.

After a moment, checking to make sure no one was around, I took a deep breath, and felt the ripping

sensation spreading along my back. It was the oddest feeling. I never seemed to get used to it. When I

concentrated, I could almost feel the glossy smooth leather of my wings. But they didn’t exist in this

reality—and they wouldn’t unless I learned how to make them solid and tangible outside of the dream.

Physical or not, my wings were capable of cloaking me from the sight of most mortals. And since

Gretchen wasn’t around, I felt pretty safe walking into the store.

The woman Seth was talking to didn’t even flinch when I slipped back through the open door. I

walked right toward her, but there was no glimmer of anything in her eyes to indicate she saw me. I

slipped around her, through the curtained opening, and into the back. It was more of a closet than a

storeroom, with row of shelves lining the walls floor to ceiling. On one shelf I saw a collection of

simple brown sandwich bags, each labeled with hand-written names. I found the one labeled
Seth

Linwood
and clutched it to my chest.

I walked back out of the tiny office, and out of the store, returning to my car and crouching down

behind the side door before uncloaking. I stood, shaking, and unlocked the driver’s side door, slipping

the package into the glove compartment and out of sight.

About 10 minutes later, Seth returned.

“Did you get it?” he asked.

“Yes.” I pointed to the glove compartment.

Seth opened it, and pulled two small glass bottles out of the brown paper bag. “That is so

awesome.” He grinned at me, but I couldn’t share his enthusiasm. He didn’t seem to notice my

reticence. He pulled his shopping list out of his pocket and crossed off the tinctures. “So. That leaves

the vessel,” he said. He looked up at me, some of his excitement fading. “Which we have no leads on.”

“Maybe Thane will find that Clay guy soon,” I said. “He might know where it is.”

Seth nodded, but he didn’t look happy. “I’ve been trying to reconstruct the instructions, but that

photo only shows one side of the vessel, which basically means we only really know one half of the

instructions. We need the
actual
vessel if we want this ritual to work.
Someone
has to know where it

is.”

“Wait.” I sat up in my seat, something tickling the back of my mind. “Do you remember when we

first told Hale and the others about the ritual—how it has to be done on winter solstice?”

“Yeah?” Seth watched me, waiting to see where I was going with this.

“Lucas said something...” As I replayed the memory in my mind, I remembered dad interrupting

Lucas right after he’d started to say something looked familiar in the photograph. “I think Lucas

might know something about the vessel.”

“Do you think he’ll help us?” Seth asked.

I didn’t answer. I was already thinking of what I’d have to say to get Lucas to see why we needed

to do this ritual. He had to help us. He was our only lead.

Chapter 13

“When are you going to ask him?” Seth murmured.

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Shhh.”

We were sitting in English, hunched over our quizzes. I’d actually studied for this. I didn’t want to

get an F because Mr. Avila thought I was cheating. Seth sighed and looked back at his own paper.

The final bell rang as I was finishing up the last essay, which was supposed to be a personal

reaction to the nature of disguise in Shakespeare’s
Twelfth Night
. Viola summed up her thoughts

pretty neatly when she said, “Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness...” I had plenty of personal

reactions to that, but I couldn’t exactly write an essay on what it felt like to be a Lilitu trying to pass

as a normal girl in high school.

“All right, folks,” Mr. Avila said. “Pencils down. You made it through another day. Bring your

quizzes up here and then you’re free to enjoy your weekend.”

I felt a chill move through me.
The weekend, already?
That meant winter solstice was only eight

days away. Suddenly it didn’t feel like there was enough time. I walked my quiz up to Mr. Avila then

fled the classroom, feeling numb.

Seth was waiting for me in the hall. He read my expression and frowned. “Braedyn? What’s

wrong?”

I spotted Lucas approaching in the hall. “Now,” I whispered. “I’m going to ask him now.” I moved

toward Lucas and Seth fell into step with me. “Actually...” I glanced at Seth and he flinched.

“Right. You probably want to do this alone.”

“I think it’ll go a little smoother if—yeah.” I gave Seth a quick, apologetic smile. Lucas was

already on edge when it came to me and Seth sneaking off to do things without him. This might be

easier for him to hear if it was coming from me alone. Seth nodded and turned back the way we’d

come.

Lucas waved. “How’d it go?” he asked. “The quiz?”

“Pretty good, I think,” I said. “I would have aced it if I’d been able to share my personal feelings

about what it’s like to have to hide your true nature from all but your closest friends and family, but,

you know.”

“Shucks,” Lucas said, smiling.

“So, actually, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” I hesitated, unsure how to begin.

“You know, maybe we should go outside.”

Lucas’s smile faded. Concern crinkled the edges of his eyes. “Okay, lead the way.”

I walked out of the building, and drew Lucas off the path onto the quad. The wind was picking up,

and we huddled against gusts of biting air. December was ushering in the beginning of winter. Heavy

clouds edged the horizon, fat with the promise of snow.

“Talk fast,” Lucas said, trying to keep his voice light. But I could see the worry lingering in the

back of his eyes. I pulled a folded piece of paper out of my satchel. Lucas took it gingerly and

unfolded it, revealing the annotated drawing of the vessel. He looked up at me, understanding.

“Murphy told you to leave this stuff alone.”

“I need your help.”

“Sorry, Braedyn.” He shoved the drawing back.

“Wait. Hear me out.” I caught his hand before he could leave. A warm energy flowed through the

touch, and I could see Lucas felt it, too. He hesitated, meeting my eyes reluctantly.

“What do you want?” Lucas asked.

“You,” I said. “I want to be with you. Without the fear of what might happen if we touch, or kiss,

or—” I lowered my eyes, unable to voice the thought. Lucas swallowed.

“I want that too,” he said.

“Then help me. Please.”

“Braedyn.”

“We have eight days, Lucas,” I pleaded. “This ritual could end the war. And that would set me