Storm (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Carter

My father and I stand in the zoo. I look up at him, so happy to be with him, ready to see the lions. “Buy a balloon?” a vendor asks.

Dad gives him a dollar and he hands me a red balloon. I hate red.

“I want blue,” I say and the man says he’s all out. Dad thanks him, and I want blue. I’m upse
t that dad won’t get me blue. We walk on, and I stare at the balloon, wishing it was blue. A blue balloon. That’s what I want. Blue like the sky. Blue like cotton candy. Blue.

And then the balloon changes colors.

Dad doesn’t notice at first, not until we’re almost at the lions and then he pauses. “I thought that was red,” he says.

“I made it blue.” I smile. It’s exactly what I wanted.

“You made it blue?”

“I wanted blue, and now it’s blue.”

Dad’s face isn’t happy. It’s upset. I made him mad. Why did I make him mad? He pulls me toward a bench and we sit down. He pulls the string until the balloon is in front of him. “This is not how we use magic,” he says to me. “It’s not proper, William.”

Then he pops it. My balloon.

I cry. “This is not how Prescott men act. Stop crying.”

I sit up in bed. I’ve had that dream every time I sleep, ever since I saw Vassago the other night. The dream is a memory. I was only four, and it’d be years before I understood why that moment was bad. The use of magic in public, and the first time my dad suspected I used the void, even though I had no idea what I was doing. His fear has always been that strong.

It’s three a.m. when I toss the covers off and groan as I move. My body hurts from Pen throwing me out of her house. Literally. I laid on the pavement for minutes before I could stand. That magic she used isn’t normal. The demons have her now, completely on their side.

I needed that dagger. It was the only way I could stop any of this, since she won’t even let me talk to her. If I have the dagger, then the demons don’t, and they can’t go through with this plan. I have to reach her. I have to make her understand. I’ll see her tonight, at the Observance, and I’ll tell her then. It’s the only place the demon won’t be around. Every time I try to talk to her, Lia changes her mind. If she’s not around, then Pen will listen to me.

Hopefully. I guess she could retaliate against me again, but she loves me. She’s scared about this other stuff. I can play on that. Use her love and her fear to make a strong move, to get ahead of the demons. Maybe even stop them. If I can’t, then there’s no hope. There will be no one who can make her listen. Not with Connie in a coma and Ric out of town.

Or maybe there is.

I pull out my cell phone and scroll until I find Frank’s number. Her grandpa. She loves him, and underneath, that girl is still there. If all this is for Connie, then maybe he can reason with her. Between him and me, we can do this. There’s still time.

I sigh before pushing the call button. Even though it’s the middle of the night, Frank answers.
Now or never, Carter.

“Mr. Warren, it’s Carter Prescott.”

“Carter, it’s late.” Frank’s voice is heavy on the other line.

“We need to talk about Penelope,” I say with a pause. “She’s in trouble.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Penelope

The Observance dance starts at eight, in an hour, and the Restitution will start right after midnight, at the witching hour. Midnight to dawn, six hours to do all this. The six hours where the magic is at its height. Then this is all over and Connie is safe.

It’s dark in the house except for what comes in from the sky. Even
that is in minimum because the sky is overcast. I don’t mind the darkness, but Gran and Pop never have liked it. It’s quiet, too quiet. Gran and Pop must be at the hospital still. Or again. Time is merely a tool to measure how much longer I have to wait. To count down my sister’s life.

I grab my green raincoat, since it’s pouring outside, and head for the hallway. I have to go meet Lia for the present.

“Penelope,” Gran says, walking into the living room. I roll my eyes and then turn on the bottom step toward her. When did they get back? She and Pop stand there, staring at me like I’m an injured puppy.

“We’re so worried about you.” She takes a step toward me and I take a step backward. I don’t want her to touch me. As I think, that the void starts to stir. Now she definitely can’t touch me.
Feel nothing,
I tell myself.
Nothing.

Pop moves toward me. “We want to talk with you, Penelope. Go sit in the living room.”

Gran and Pop stare me down. I don’t want a fight, so I go and sit. They follow behind me and sit across from me.

“What is it?” I ask. “I’ve got to go.”

Pop shakes his head, and even though I try not to, I do feel. Pop’s always been there.
Feel nothing.
“We ran into Sabrina Stone in the hospital and she asked how you were. She informed us that you were marked. Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

“You’ve been marked for weeks,” Gran says, the lines on her face harsher. “Since your sister’s accident. You losing your Enforcer badge was one thing, and we’d figured you’d come to us about that when you were ready—but how could you keep that from us?”

There was a reason, but it’s hard to grasp and cling to now. I don’t need to respond at all. I move toward the door, but Gran still talks at me.

“We’re worried, Penelope We’ve been overlooking some of your actions. We wanted to let you deal with things about your sister and the loss of your dream in your own way, but this isn’t dealing with anything,” she says.

Now I feel anger. How can she pretend to care about my job, about me being an Enforcer, now that I’m not one anymore? “You didn’t want that future for me, anyway. I did you a favor.”

“I want you to
have
a future,” Gran pleads. “Everyone saw that message that you were a halfling. The phone rang all morning, Penelope. We can’t protect you from that. Even if the Triad sent out a retraction, the suspicion will not die that easily. Not for any of us. Things have changed forever.”

I force the void to stay down
. Feel nothing. Don’t let this control you. You don’t owe them.

“Penelope,” Pop says, “stay with us so we can keep you from harm.”

I stare between them, and those words are supposed to mean a lot, but they don’t. They’re scared. Scared of things they don’t understand and it’s not my job to make them understand. “I don’t need any help. I have my own magic now.”

I stand to move from them, but Gran grabs my arm. Her face is harsh, older than she usually seems. “Stop lying. We are still your grandparents. What are you doing?”

“The one thing you never wanted,” I snap.

Gran takes a step back, like I’ve hit her. “Which is?”

“What I have to do. I’m embracing who I am.”

I see the realization dawn on her face. She stares back at me in horror, and I expect her to comment more on it, but it’s Pop, not her, who speaks.

“What have you done?”

He touches my shoulders, one hand on each, and I look at him. I have to. But I don’t even want to answer him. I want to go. The void lingers at my fingertips, waiting for me to let it out. My hands start to shake, and I have to leave right now.

“I have to go,” I say. I lurch away from him, snatch my bag from the couch, and move toward the door. The void wants to release, and I force it back with all I can. It’s very hot inside, and I feel my shirt sticking to me under my coat. I have to get out of this room and away from them. The magic keeps growing, wanting out, and I can’t not feel anything for them. Not for him.

Magic zaps me in the back, and when I look, Pop is standing with his hand out in the air. “Do not leave. We are not finished.”

It’s only a second of emotion from me, but that’s all it takes. The void wins the war with my body, lights up the dark room, and shoots out of me. I let out a gasp, but I can’t stop the magic. Pop falls to the ground, stiff as a board. Gran rushes to him, calling his name, and I stand there. I should go to him, but I don’t. I can’t. If he’s not okay, then I don’t want to see it. My whole body is convulsing, and I don’t trust the magic. Or myself.

Instead, I open the door to leave.

I force my hands to steady before I move. My entire body has a moment of stillness, an anchor. I shut off the movements, the pain, the emotions. It’s the only way to control it.

“Penelope, please.” Gran says. “Don’t leave us.”

Leaving is the only thing I can do to spare them. I’m too dangerous now.

As the door closes behind me, I decide they are strangers. I feel nothing for strangers.

…

I meet Lia in some condemned old house near Great Falls Park. The outside is covered in wood that’s blackened with rot, bowing and splintering from damage. “This is cozy,” I say.

“I don’t like to be at the same place more than once. Not now that your people are all suspicious. The last thing we need is an interference.”

“Agreed,” I say. “Is this the big surprise?”

She shakes her head, and Bemnel steps into the room from the outside.

“An ambush?

“You’re on edge today,” he says.

“A lot on my mind,” I say.

I watch as three more demons step into the run-down once–upon-a-time house. One is gray, one is blue, and one is wearing the skin of a middle aged overweight, balding man. Lia points to me. “This is Penelope Grey.”

“Nice to meet you,” the gray one says. “I’m Asag.” It points to the blue demon. “That’s Sharir.”

“I can introduce myself, Asag,” the blue one says. “I’m Sharir.”

“Charmed,” I say. Bemnal crosses his arms, watching in amusement.

“Jerry,” the one in a man suit says.

“Jerry?” I repeat.

He nods. Whatever, then. No one moves or speaks for another minute, but they all stare at me. Waiting. “Why am I here?”

Bemnel answers instead of Lia. “Because we’re a right fun bunch of buggers. You need people on your side, and we’re the best lot around.”

“The best?”

“Aye, or the most entertaining,” he winks.

“Oh, so you do tricks? Show me one.”

Sharir leans toward Asag. “I like this one.”

Lia puts up her hand. “Enough. Penelope, dear, there’s one problem we’ve been working on for you. The present I mentioned.”

“Which is?”

“You are snappy,” she says. She takes my wrists and holds them forward. “We’re going to remove the mark so Cinderella can go to the ball.”

My jaw drops. “You can do that?”

Lia moves her hands in the air like a teetering scale. “We’ve never done it. I had to gather the right demons, ones who could harness the most magic, but we’re resourceful.”

“And if you fail?”

She shrugs. “Without it you won’t even be able to enter the hall, so it’s worth a try.”

“But our plan to use the relay was—”

“I was stalling,” she says. “Come on. Let us give it a go.” I nod, because what else can I do, and Lia smiles. She readjusts the way I’m standing and makes me pose so my wrists are pointed out toward the group of demons. They all gather around me, touch my wrist, and start chanting.

They chant. It feels like hours. Nothing happens.

And then it does. The pain is like knives in my wrists, tightening and pulling my muscles apart. Then it’s stiff and tingly. Then it feels like my bones are being broken before mending. It’s all happening at once, and I scream against the pain. I’m pretty sure the void comes shooting out of me, but it’s all fuzzy until it’s all black.

When I wake up, I’m still on the floor, all the demons looking down at me. “Did it work, lass?” Bemnel asks.

I look at my wrists. There’s nothing there. It’s my wrist without a band.

“I think so,” I say.

He smiles. Lia holds out a hand for me. “Let’s get ready for the ball.”

Chapter Forty

Carter

The dance is already in full swing when I show up. The whole area of the Nucleus House is packed with people. Despite the chilly weather, people are still outside in the overflow. Even the impending doom of Static magic can’t stop a celebration.

I squeeze through some Enforcers. A few of them look at me, eyebrows raised or face twisted in disgust. I recognize the suspicious looks. They don’t know what to beli
eve anymore, about Penelope’s halfling status, given and then revoked. Or what that means for me.

Someone says my name as I pass, but I don’t stop to pay attention to who it is. I need to find Penelope. She has to be here. She said she would do the Restitution tonight, and if she is the gift prophesized, the sole witch,then I have to stop her. If I can just talk to her one more time, I can try to convince her to listen to me, or I have to stop her. If I can’t do it, then there’s Plan B: tell my dad. It’s the only other option, but I can’t think about what they’ll do her to stop her.

Some of the other Enforcers slap me on the back as I walk through them. I flash my Prescott smile, and make small talk through the crowds. They all know who I am. Everyone. Someone mentions Penelope’s name, but I turn away, heart pounding. The music drowns out most of what they say and carries the words away into the night. I can’t start talking about her. I need to stay on task. They can be suspicious if they want, but it won’t change anything. I can’t focus on that right now.

Waiters in bowties walk around the whole yard outside and through the interior doors with silver trays of food. There are witches and Statics everywhere. When we’re all meshed into a room, it’s impossible to tell who is who. I like it that way. If this day had gone the way it was supposed to, Pen would be here on my arm and we’d be enjoying this together. This brief moment of unification, where there are no titles, just people.

I glance around the room as Jordan Stark waves me over, then steps away from his group toward me. “Prescott, we were just talking about you.”

“Yeah? All good things about how you can’t compare to me?” I ask with a smile. They all laugh. I don’t know anymore if it’s because of my charm or because of my name. I guess it doesn’t matter.

“That program with the Statics, they said in the meeting today it was coming back. I want to help out. We all do.”

It’s coming back? I missed that meeting today, but I stare at Jordan, waiting for a joke. He’s serious. “Why?”

Jordan looks toward the ground. “I knew Taylor Plum. Shira’s pretty torn up about it, and I want to be there to support them after Mrs. Arthur. Besides, with Maple and Ric and all the others, well, I see where you’re coming from.”

“Yeah, definitely. Let’s talk about it later.”

Jordan smiles. “Cool.” He takes a step closer. “And that stuff with your girlfriend…” I don’t respond, just stare at him. “Did you know she was a halfling?”

I glance away from him and my eyes scan the room, and I’m about to say something very un-Prescott, but then I see her. Alone, in the corner near the door. She must’ve just gotten here.

“See you later, Jordan.”

Pen is standing in that same green dress that she wore last month, the one from our pairing, and she’s beautiful. Others walk around her, careful not to go near. I am amazed that she’d even show up here, after the news about her status, but Pen’s never really cared about what they think of her. She’s mad at me, but that’s not really her. It’s the magic. It’s whatever the demon is telling her, and the stress. Penelope loves me, and that doesn’t go away. Not just like that.

Suddenly, she looks up. Right at me across the room of people. It’s strange and cliché to feel, in that moment, that I knew exactly what she was thinking, but I did. I could see it on her face, and in her eyes. Even with hundreds of people standing between us, some whispering, some pointing. She looks away from me, toward the large clock above my head, and her eyes darken. Nearly midnight.

I move quicker toward her, hoping that she won’t decide to run away again. Or worse.

I vaguely notice the Triad standing off to the side of the room, and my father’s glance in my direction. I don’t give a shit about what he thinks. Or anyone else. Not right now. Not when this is the last chance I have. Let them say whatever they want. I want to be the one there for her when no one else thinks it’s right—she’d do that for me.

“Hey,” I say with a smile.

Pen blinks, focuses her gaze on me. She leans in closer, so near that I can almost feel her breath on my skin. “You shouldn’t be talking to me.”

“I don’t care.”

“Your dad,” she starts, nodding across the room. I don’t look anywhere but at her.

“I don’t care,” I repeat. I tilt my head toward the exit. “Come with me.”

She shifts on her feet. “You won’t change my mind about anything.”

Good. That means my Pen is still in there somewhere. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”

With a quick glance at the clock, she nods in agreement. “Five minutes.”

Five minutes is all I need.

I hope.

We find a quiet corner outside the Nucleus House and away from the people. The cold air is a reminder of all the pieces I’ve put together that Pen doesn’t know about. Of all the things that are happening. Things that have yet to come.

Pen crosses her arms. “What do you need to talk about? I think I’ve made myself clear on all of this.”

I shake my head. “I know you love me, Penelope, but you’re scared.”

“And you’re in denial,” she snorts.

I smile the Prescott smile, charm and smolder, and if she notices the difference between my real one and this one, then she doesn’t comment on it. “I think that’s you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I lower my voice and step closer to her. “Let me help you.”

“I’m not in trouble.” But she doesn’t look at me when she says it. She’s trying to hide. I won’t let her hide. If she’s going to kick my ass and serve it up on a platter, then I’ll at least get words in this time. I push some of her hair behind her ear, but she flinches and backs away.

“It’s probably better if you don’t touch me,” she says. “I can’t control it when I’m touched.”

Finally, some information. “Can’t control the void?”

“I hurt people…”

“Like who?” She looks at me, and I notice that her eyes are strange again. Darker than usual, glassy, completely empty of any emotion. It gives me the chills. “You can tell me.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

I move in closer until I’m only an inch away and her breath hitches. “Don’t touch me,” she whispers. But even as she says it her body leans into mine. Like that’s exactly where it wants to be.

“Why can’t I touch you?”

Her lip quivers and she’s not making eye contact. “I’ll break you, worse than before. When people touch me, I ruin them: Connie, Gran, Pop. Everyone.”

“You won’t ruin me,” I say with force.

Finally, she looks in my eyes. “I will. I already have.”

“You didn’t and you won’t,” I repeat. I need to show her that she can trust me. That we can touch each other. That I’m here. She closes her eyes as I let my fingertips graze her cheek. She opens her eyes again after a moment, almost surprised. “See? It’s fine.” I run my fingers down her neck and slide my other hand around her waist.

“Don’t push it,” she whispers. “It’s unpredictable.”

I kiss her neck. “Control it.”

Again and again I kiss her, up her jaw, her cheek, and run my hand down her neck.

“You won’t do anything to me.”

Her hands finally move from her side and down my shoulders to rest on my back. My heart is racing from her touch. If I can let her forget all of the other things, let her think about us, then, maybe we can stop this. If she thinks she can be strong, if she trusts me again, then we can undo this damage.

Pen stares at me, and I refuse to look away, refuse to let go of her. Her usual cool blue eyes flash a deep green, and that should worry me, but it’s not too late. It’s not too late yet.

Then she closes the space between us. Her tongue finds mine, and her hips press into me, trapping herself between the wall and me. It’s me and her, like it was before, like it should be. No magic or demons or Statics or lies.

And being like that, with her, I will never let those things keep us apart. I can say I’ll fight for her, but I’m going to do more. I’m going to show her.

When we part for air, I press my forehead against hers and breathe her name. It’s like a spell on my lips. She inhales the mingled air between us. “It’s not too late.”

She sniffles, her voice low. “I wanted to protect Connie.”

“We can find a way, Pen. We always find a way. The Restitution, the demons aren’t the answer.” I’m saying it all too quickly, expecting too much, but I want her to say yes. I want her to find her way back. To this side, to us, to me, to herself.

Pen buries her face into my shoulder. Wetness spreads on my suit, and I hold her tighter as she starts to cry. I run my hand over her hair. “The void is part of me now. It’s claimed me.”

I hold her tighter against me until her body melds into mine. The void is part of her. If she wasn’t marked, she would be able to harness both magics. But since she is, there’s still time.

“I was trying to do the right thing, but now…” She doesn’t finish the thought. “I’m so angry, and I don’t know who—” The rest of her sentence is lost in my jacket. “I’m a monster.”

I pull away from her so I can see her face. “You’re not a monster.”

“I am,” she says. She looks at me again with that emotionless stare, the one that means she’s gone again. “We’ll do the Restitution and then everything will be better. You’ll see.”

I need her to fight this magic, to stay here. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

She pauses, and shakes her head, hair falling from the fancy knot on her head. “The demons are the only ones who are willing to help me be a witch again. And the void is the only way to fix everything.”

“They’re lying to you.”

She shakes her head, but her eyes are focused on me again. Focused and bright with anger or determination. “It’s not a lie. No one else understands except her. Everything Lia said has happened.”

I toss my hands into the air, and take a step back. “This is what she’s wanted all along. She wants you to have no one left so you need the demons because they need you. They’re using you.” Pen looks confused, face all scrunched up. I reach for her hand and inhale. “There was a prophecy that one witch would come who could harness the power to destroy one side of magic forever—so afterward there’s only void or essence. And that person is you. They are doing all of this to get you.”

Her breath hitches, and I can see her hands shake, even though she’s not moving. “What?”

“I’ve looked into this with Poncho. You still trust him, right? And Vassago. It’s real—and this is what they want. They want to get rid of witches forever.”

“They want me to destroy the other side?”

“You have to have an essence and the void, a halfling. This is what I’ve been trying to stop.”

“Wait—what do you mean? You’ve been trying to stop what?”

“The Restitution. There has to be a balance, and that balance is way more than you choosing a side and becoming a demon. If you do this, then you’ll destroy the essence and everything associated with it.”

There’s silence as she looks toward the ground. “I would destroy everyone?”

I reach out for her hand. “If the void is part of you, then you have the power to do that. It’s a good thing you’re marked—it will be harder for the demons to work the Restitution around that.”

She looks down at her hand, anger and horror on her face. Her fingers trace along her arm, but there’s nothing there. How is there nothing there? What happened to the blackness?

“How long?” she asks, her eyes wide with disbelief and anger. Her jaw is taut, her eyebrows set in arches.

“What?”

“How long have you known about this?” She yells it, her chest rising and falling heavily.

I sigh. “Since right after you were marked.”

“Weeks,” she says, she shouts. “Weeks and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I wanted to make sure I knew what we were getting into. Every time I tried, the demon thwarted me because she knew what I learned, she had to. Then, you wouldn’t even talk to me about it. I was trying to do it on my own, but that obviously didn’t work.”

She pushes me, and I stumble backward. “You should’ve told me.” She pushes me again. Her skin starts to glow white as she pushes me again.

“Pen, stop.”

“How could you?” The words seem to rip from her throat.

I grab her arms and stop her from moving. Force her to look at me. The light of the void pulses through her skin like a strobe light. “It’s not too late.”

Then the clocks strikes. Midnight. It’s officially the Observance. The day has begun. Her eyes are wide and her face pale.

“Yes, it is,” she says.

I blink, shaking my head. I start to ask what she means, but then she flickers out of my arms. I didn’t even know she could do that. Or how. But it’s not good.