The Book of Lost Souls (33 page)

Ivy cared about Spike, and the more she thought about how she’d come to think of him as a friend, the more she realized how the beings inside Skinner’s books had reacted: Hatred, anger, jealousy. The books wanted her for themselves. How much longer before she stopped caring for anything or anyone except them?

No. I won’t join them. I won’t give in.
 

She had to get rid of Vlad. Then, she’d—

“R
etrieve!”
Mr. Evans shouted, and
The Book of Lost Souls
launched itself toward him.
 

Just as his outstretched fingers touched the book, Shayde slammed into Mr. Evans, knocking him down. The book tumbled from his hands—and into Vlad’s.

“
No!”
Mr. Evans screamed. He cursed repeatedly as he struggled against Shayde.
 

Raven had joined Shayde and together, they held Mr. Evan’s hands down on the ground and away from either one of them.
 

“Ivy, I could use those jumper cables we brought!” Raven shouted.
 

To Ivy, the book was more important. They’d have to manage without her. Bane and Devlin were snarling and snapping at Vlad’s feet. Vlad kicked at them, sending Devlin sprawling backward with a yelp. She wanted to cry out for Devlin. He scrambled back to his feet and rejoined Bane. He was okay.

For now. But how much longer? Was she willing to risk him to get the book back?

“RETRIEVE!” Ivy yelled in unison with Nick and Mr. Evans.
 

Shayde grabbed the jumper cables and ran toward Raven who hadn’t managed to completely stop Mr. Evans, although Ivy could see she’d most likely broken all the fingers on his left hand.

The combined effort of the Retrieve command was enough to whirl Vlad around.
 

“The book is MINE!” Mr. Evans shouted. “Let me go!” He struggled beneath Raven and Shayde’s grasp.
 

“Give me the book, Nick,” Ivy said. “Let me have the book. NOW!”

He shook his head. “Can’t do that. If you can perform the banishing spell, then so can I.”

Vlad tugged at the book, tried to break it free of the three-way spell that held it in place. The book nearly flipped from his hands, the giant red gem in the middle brightening like a demonic eye, watching to see who would be worthy of it.

Who is willing to give up everything for us?
The book whispered.
 

“Me!” Mr. Evans yelled. Shayde and Raven had managed to bind his broken hands together at the wrists with the jumper cables, breaking his spell. He didn’t seem to care.

“I command you,” Mr. Evans said to Vlad. “Bring it to me.”

Vlad sneered, but obediently moved toward Mr. Evans. Bane and Devlin tugged on the back of his cloak, trying to stop his progress. Devlin hiccuped, catching Vlad’s cloak on fire. Vlad whirled about, sending Devlin flying a few feet. The flames forced Bane to let go.
 

She had to get rid of Mr. Evans at all costs. Then, she’d deal with Nick. Hand poised, Ivy faced Mr. Evans, ready to hit him with a near-death curse. “Lucis—”

Nick’s hand caught hers. “No, stop.”
 

She shoved an elbow into his side. “Get away from me!”
 

Vlad, who had easily extinguished the flames, paused, as though driven by the book’s will. He turned toward Ivy.
 

“NOOO!” Mr. Evans cried.
 

Nick took a step closer “Ivy, let me—”

“Repel!”
Ivy’s spell slammed into Nick, knocking him backward. She didn’t have time to explain—she didn’t want to hurt him.
 

Everyone stood in horrified silence, Even Devlin. She walked closer to Vlad. “Who do you serve? Him, or me?”

Vlad’s expression was unmistakably one of contempt. He raised his chin defiantly. “Neither!”

“ADURO, ALL!” Bound, hands broken, Mr. Evans wasn’t done yet. His spell managed to ignite a heap of trash. Every upholstered chair and every pile of garbage burst into flames. Within seconds, the flames raced up walls and doorways.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Shayde said. “Ivy, let’s go.”

“Not yet. Get Spike out of here. In fact, all of you, get out.”

There wasn’t a lot of time to argue. In a few minutes, they’d all be trapped. Nick put out a fire, only to have it self-ignite a moment later.
 

Vlad laughed darkly. “Stay, why don’t you? You and the others will burn. All I have to do is wait. After your glorious shrieks of agony, you’ll be gone. Then, the books are mine.”

“Ivy, please,” Nick urged.
 

“REPEL!” Ivy shouted, slamming Nick backward again. She raised her hand at him. “Don’t make me use something darker, Nick. Get Devlin. Take Shayde and Bane with you.”

“And Mr. Evans?” Shayde asked.

“Let him stay for all I care,” Ivy said, still staring down Nick. Truth was, she did care. She hoped they’d take him, too. Banishing evil souls that were already dead were one thing. Leaving Mr. Evans to burn alive was something else. None of her friends could be of help anymore. They had to believe the books had won her.
 

Ivy had to believe they hadn’t.

Nick walked past her. “Come on, guys.”

They huddled close for a second, then Shayde gathered Devlin in her arms. He barked in protest, trying to free himself from Shayde’s protective hold. Bane walked with his sister, his head and tail low.
 

Raven gave Ivy a pained look, then she grabbed Spike and began dragging him across the floor toward the closest exit.
 

Nick bent to do the same with Mr. Evans. Mr. Evans lashed out with a violent kick.
 

Nick aimed at the tire iron next to Ivy’s book bag. “Retrieve!” The tire iron slid effortlessly to him. Nick smacked Mr. Evans with it, rendering him unconscious once more.
 

With all the hits to the head, Ivy wondered if Mr. Evans wouldn’t have a serious concussion.
 

Nick grabbed hold of Mr. Evans and followed the others.

“So, you’re willing to die for your friends?” Vlad asked.

Fighting back tears, Ivy turned to face him. They’d left her. She wanted them to, but it still hurt to know how this was going to end. Even if she were strong enough to resist the books, she’d never get rid of Vlad in time to get out of the building alive.

She aimed for the
The Book of Lost Souls.
“Retrieve!”

The book lurched forward, pulling Vlad with it.
 

Ivy curled her fingers inward, willing the Retrieving spell to work with all her might. Vlad slid forward just a little more.

Above them, the weakened metal walkway groaned and rattled. One of the stair railings gave way and clattered to the floor. Around her, a few of the flames were snuffed out before igniting again. She glanced around. “Nick?”

No answer. Of course not. She’d used magic against him, wanting to send a message to the others she’d do the same to them. It was the only way she could ensure they would leave her. But now, she wished she weren’t alone.

Choose! Choose us!
The voices in the books screamed.
Choose us and we’ll force him to surrender the book to you! You’ll be safe! You’ll rejoin your friends.

“Unless you want to go hand to hand with me, you lose,” Vlad taunted.

Ivy raised her hand again, this time, aiming for the discarded stair railing. She had an idea. “Retrieve!”

The rail flew to her hand. “Okay, she said. Have it your way.”

She raised the pole, intent on running Vlad through—or at least die trying. The only other option was to surrender to the books. Part of her wanted to believe them, that the books would allow her safe passage out of the building. In her heart, she knew better.

An echo came from somewhere above. Maybe it was behind her, she couldn’t tell.

“Nick?” she called softly.
 

“There’s no one here,” Vlad said, sardonically. He extended his hand. The metal spear he’d almost used on Devlin rolled across the floor and then leapt into his hand.

Another echo. Then she definitely heard a faint voice.

The metal pole jerked free from her hand and soared through the air. Vlad raised his own spear when Ivy’s struck him in the chest. Vlad surveyed the jutting metal with shocked curiosity.

“You
impaled
me,” he said incredulously. Blood spilled onto his cloak.
Blood
.
His
blood.

“Retrieve!” Ivy yelled. Vlad winced as the metal was wrenched from his body. Ivy caught the pole, then readied herself to fetch the book before the surprise left Vlad’s face.

Another whisper. Someone
was
here.
 

The metal walkway above collapsed. A blast of air—a spell—knocked Ivy backward in time to dodge a large piece of grating. Vlad wasn’t as lucky. Much of the walkway collapsed on top of him. She heard him grunting beneath the weight.

When Ivy collected herself, she saw that the book had been thrown clear. It lay on the floor, gently breathing. Watching. Waiting. “Retrieve!”
 

The book slid forward. Wiping sweat from her forehead, Ivy opened the book. Again, the papery wisps of words drifted up to her.

Ours. You’ll soon be ours.

No. She wouldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t. Never. She’d burn before she surrendered to whatever lurked inside the book.
 

Too late!
She thought. She’d already taken the Countess. Enjoyed it, actually. Without a doubt she’d enjoy Vlad’s demise just as much. No one could perform such cruel things, such cruel magic without having it leave a mark.
 

Little one sees, she understands about the dark stain upon her soul! She sees!

She flipped toward the back of the book. The spell was here, somewhere. On its own accord, the pages turned, slowly at first, then picked up speed.
 

Ivy took the remaining combination of hair from her pocket. She glanced at the strands—a few black wolf hairs, one red human hair, one brown. What would the book have her do to banish Vlad?

Vlad shifted under the metal grating. He shoved one piece of grating aside, then another. He’d be free in a moment or two.

Inside the book, people leered and pointed at her and bugs scuttled from one page to the next. Grotesque beasties rushed forward as if to leap off the yellowing paper at her, the page turning just in time.
 

Then the pages came to rest on the spell for the counter curse. Hundreds of screaming faces, skeleton heads, and countless hands pushed against the other side of the yellowing, waxy-like page. Ivy held her hand over the book and let go. As the strands of hair fell, they morphed into their plant counterparts again: ivy, Wolfsbane, and Nightshade.
Luck, strength, sever life.

As soon as the hair touched the page, the leaves melted away once more. Again, the stems writhed like snakes, twisting, forming into written words. Horrified, Ivy read them.

Please, no. Don’t make me do this.

She held the bloody tip of the metal pole over the book, then rammed it into the page. A horrible, orange-red light filtered up to her, making the pages translucent. Strange creatures waddled beneath. An elongated face swam into view, its chin as pointed as its nose. Its lips parted.
 

A wave of greasy nausea washed over Ivy and she fought the urge to be sick. The room spun. A drop of blood dripped down into the man’s mouth.
 

Vlad shoved the last piece of grating away and rose to his feet.

It was now or never.

Ivy took a steadying breath. “Cursus catomidio per!”

Three metal poles of varying sizes rose into the air. She stood, letting them sail past, some close enough to graze her hair. Each found their mark on Vlad’s torso. He shrieked, and staggered backward, eyes wide, hands clutching one of the metal poles.
 

Ivy tried to turn away, tried not watch, but it was impossible. The last spear, the one Vlad had almost used on Devlin, rolled from the debris. It rose into the air, hovering just so Vlad could see it. Already, he’d started to wither, his skin aging years within seconds.

“And this one’s for my dog,” Ivy said. The spear jettisoned forward, impaling Vlad dead center of his chest, flinging him backward twenty feet into the wall behind him.
 

Vlad struggled for a moment, blood spilling from his lips. Then, he disintegrated into dusty black soot.

The flames were nearly all around her now.
 

The books chimed in, trilling their usual chorus.
Choose us and you’ll live with us! Choose, and you’ll see your friends.

Ivy started to reach down to pick up the book. Maybe it was her only way out. Then, she thought of Nick and Devlin. She would miss them so much. How must they feel about her right now? They thought she’d already chosen the books over them, had already turned into a dark Kindred. Her heart ached to the core.

She’d be the only one who would ever know the truth. Ivy stood straight and stepped over the books, ignoring the screams of defeat from within them. The heat from the fire grew. All she could do now was wait and hope her death would be quick.

She wondered where her father was, then remembered that she’d heard voices. He was here, or had been. Maybe he’d helped the walkway to collapse.

But why hadn’t he saved
her?
 

This wasn’t the way she thought she’d die. Witches had been burned at the stake for centuries—burned to death for being evil and treacherous. It was ironic, really. In order to do good, she had to turn to dark magic—sever the soul, the lifeline, of the dead and the damned. Ivy put her forearm across her mouth and coughed. She didn’t want to die. Frantically, her mind raced for a spell that’d give her oxygen, douse the flames, anything. Her eyes scanned the wall of fire, desperately searching for any means of escape.
 

There was nowhere to go. Nothing left to do.

Some of the flames died down, and Ivy made out a figure walking toward her. Nick walked through the fire as though it wasn’t there, wasn’t lapping at every part of him. His jacket and shirt had been torn, and there was a bleeding cut next to his ear, but the fire itself hadn’t touched him. Of course, demons didn’t burn. Only witches.