Part 43 (2/2)
”Go on,” he said. ”I'll meet you downstairs.”
”No,” I said. ”You need to stay here.”
”I won't let Savannah see me, Paige. The illusion will be complete. I'm only coming along as backup, in case of an emergency.”
I hurried to him and put my hand against his chest, halting his progress. ”Please. Stay out here. You're hurt.”
”I can still cast-”
”No, please.” I met his eyes. ”If something goes wrong, you'll never get away in time. I need to know you're okay. I'll be fine.”
The house creaked. s.h.i.+ngles slid off, one striking me on the shoulder. Cortez nudged me toward the house. I didn't need a second hint. With one backward glance, I was gone.
I raced down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. From inside the furnace room, Savannah continued her pleas, voice rising and falling. I pressed my hands to my face and inhaled deeply, fighting to control my hammering heart. I had to believe. She She had to believe. had to believe.
When I rounded the corner into the room, Savannah stopped. She went still, completely still, as if sensing me there but fearing to turn and face disappointment.
”Savannah?” I said.
To my ears, my voice still sounded like my own and, as she turned, I nearly broke and ran. Instead, I held my breath and waited. Her eyes met mine. She blinked, then rubbed her palms over her eyes.
”Mom?”
”I heard you calling,” I said.
”Mom!” She leaped from her knees and ran to me, arms flinging around my chest. Burying her head against my shoulder, she started to sob. ”Oh, Mom, it's such a mess. I. . . I did everything wrong.”
Instinctively I reached to stroke her hair, forgetting who I was supposed to be and speaking as myself. ”You didn't do anything wrong. Nothing at all.”
”Yes, I did. I made Paige stay here with me, and now she's gone.” Her voice broke in a sob. ”I-I think she's dead, Mom. It's my fault. I made her stay and they killed her.”
”No,” I said sharply, putting my hand under her chin. ”Paige is fine. You need to get out of this house, Savannah, before it collapses.”
As if to emphasize the point, the house began to shake. Splinters of wood popped from the beams overhead.
”I-I didn't mean to do this. I just kept casting and casting and things kept coming, but they weren't you. I only wanted you.”
”I'm here now.” I kissed her forehead, realizing as I did that, for once, I had to bend to do it. ”But you have to go, Savannah. I love you very much, but I can't stay. You know that.”
”Oh, Mom. I miss you so much.”
My voice caught. ”I know. I miss you, too. So much.”
A beam broke over the furnace, then another. Chunks of the ceiling fell through.
”You have to go, Savannah,” I said. ”Please.”
I hugged her tight, so tight her ribs crackled in protest. She gave a hiccuping laugh, then reached up to kiss my cheek.
”Can I see you again?” she asked.
I shook my head. ”I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it only works once. I'll be with you, though. Even if you can't see me. You know that.” I hugged her again and whispered in her ear, the words flowing unbidden, as if someone else was speaking. ”You were my whole world, Savannah. The best thing I ever did.”
She gave me a crus.h.i.+ng hug, then stepped back. The ceiling above groaned.
”Go,” I said. ”I'll be right here watching. Go on.”
She walked backward, eyes never leaving mine. Overhead, the beams began to pop like matchsticks.
”Hurry!” I called. ”Up the stairs now. Run!”
”I love you, Mom.”
”I love you too, baby.”
She threw me a kiss, then turned and ran. I waited, listening to her footsteps, needing to make sure she was gone before I bolted. I heard Cortez shout. Heard Savannah answer. Then the ceiling caved in.
Chapter 50.
The Eighth Day I'm still not quite sure how I made it out. Sheer luck, I suppose. Guess I was ent.i.tled to one miracle. I managed to duck inside a crawls.p.a.ce while the house collapsed around me. After that, well, after that is a bit of a blur, but I made it out with only cuts and bruises.
Savannah never realized I'd impersonated her mother. She a.s.sumed I'd been trapped in the house while searching for her. As Cortez said, we'll never tell her. She deserves that fantasy, one I envied her, a few last minutes with the person who meant more to her than anyone in the world.
We still had to do Savannah's ceremony in a few days but, with Leah and Nast dead, no one would impede that now. So it was all over. All over. I should feel relief at those words. Yet I couldn't, because it truly was over. My life as I'd always known it was over.
I didn't get my happy ending. Maybe I've seen too many Hollywood movies, but I honestly believed everything would turn out okay. If I survived, if I saved Savannah, then I would get my karmic reward. My tattered life would miraculously mend. The media would forget about me overnight. The town would forgive me, welcome me back. The Coven would overthrow Victoria and reinstate me as Coven Leader. I'd return to find my house hadn't been burned to the ground, but barely scorched, all my belongings still intact.
But my house was a hollow sh.e.l.l. Anything that hadn't burned had been scavenged by human vultures. When we returned to survey the damage, we were beset by reporters. The tabloids screamed ”Mob Justice: Vigilantes Try to Burn Ma.s.sachusetts Witch.” Some claimed I'd caused the fire accidentally while conducting a Satanic ritual, using body parts dug up from the cemetery the night before. Hordes of screaming strangers banged against the taxi windows, chasing us up the street. The front page of every Boston paper carried the story of the burning, augmented with news of ”renewed efforts” by townspeople to cleanse EastFalls of my presence. Within a day, the more enterprising reporters began drawing links between me and the ”unholy” destruction of a farmhouse thirty miles away.
I called every Coven member, a.s.suring them that Nast was out of our lives for good. I told them what Victoria had done. It didn't matter. I'd tainted the Coven. Only a handful would even consider having me back.
We stayed in Ma.s.sachusetts only long enough to file an insurance claim and get the paperwork done. Between the money from the claim, and money I still had from my mother's estate, I had enough to move anywhere I wanted and start over. For most women my age, this would be a dream come true. It wasn't my dream, but I'd make it mine. I swore I would.
When we pulled out of Boston three days later, I watched the city lights fade behind me, perhaps for the last time, and a wave of sadness washed over me, but no tears came. Surprisingly few tears had come in the last few days. Even as I'd surveyed the ruins of my life, I realized that I still had exactly what I'd fought for.
I had Savannah. I'd known that I might lose everything I had in my quest to protect her, and I'd told myself that didn't matter. I guess that's what happens when you make a deal with the Fates. They take you at your word. Still, they did leave me with two consolation prizes, which I valued more than I could have imagined.
First, I still had the grimoires. When the firefighters rescued Cortez from my burning house, he'd still been carrying the two bags, the one with the grimoires and the one with my tools and the material for Savannah's ceremony.
My second bonus reward? Cortez was fine, and still with us. Through his network of contacts, he'd found a doctor in Boston willing to examine him, no questions asked. He had three cracked ribs, internal bruising, and a possible concussion. The doctor had advised a hospital stay, but Cortez settled for a chest binding and some painkillers, then we'd set out on the road.
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