Part 10 (2/2)

The stone head seemed to dip in agreement. Then, as she watched, its face became Estefan's. Skye jumped back into the shadows. Another face superimposed itself over Estefan's. It was Basilio, one of Estefan's coven brothers from Cadiz. A third face appeared over that one, and then a fourth.

Her blood ran cold. Estefan had called on his coven brothers to help him find her, and they had come.

”Oh, my G.o.ddess,” she whispered. Her knees began to buckle.

Then the Green Man's face gazed steadily back at her, and she lifted her head. ”I'll kill you if I have to, Estefan,” she whispered.

Did she hear Estefan's arrogant chuckle in the splas.h.i.+ng water?

”Skye?” Lune called. She held a flashlight, and she, Soleil, and the High Priestess were standing at the mouth of the cavern. Their white, spangled robes were gone, and in their place the women wore normal street clothes.

”Oh! Did you put out the fire?” Skye asked them, rus.h.i.+ng toward them.

”Fire?” Soleil asked, frowning.

Skye raced past the trio. The hedge maze stood intact, and the sun had risen.

”We've been looking for you for hours,” Lune said. She c.o.c.ked her head. ”Are you all right?”

”I had a terrible vision,” Skye confessed. ”My ex, he's a Dark Witch, and he's after me. His coven brothers have come from Spain, and they're going to help him find me.” Her earlier surge of strength faded, and she felt small and afraid.

”They'll fail,” the High Priestess a.s.sured her, opening her arms. ”You're with us now. We've agreed to induct you as a full member into the Circuit.”

”Blessed be,” Soleil and Lune said in unison, as Skye moved uncertainly into the High Priestess's embrace.

”As our sister, you're our responsibility,” the High Priestess added. ”We take care of our own. We'll keep you safe. We have voted not to fight in the light, Skye, but we will protect you from harm.”

”No. We need to-,” Skye began, but Lune took a step behind the High Priestess and gave Skye a hard look.

”We'll keep you safe,” Lune said pointedly.

”Right. Safe,” Soleil added, putting her hand on Skye's shoulder. Soleil looked as if she wanted to say more. A lot more. Later, in private.

Skye let the High Priestess think her silence was her consent.

But it was not.

BUCHAREST, ROMANIA.

JENN, HOLGAR, AND ANTONIO.

As the sun worked its way across the sky, Antonio lay still as death on the floor of their little sitting room beneath a blanket. Seated in a wooden chair beside a small table, Jenn traced the outline of his body with her eyes, catching herself waiting for his chest to rise and fall. It didn't, and it never would. She drank the tea Holgar had made and reminded herself over and over that the Brotherhood of St. Andrew couldn't change Antonio back into a human being. But in quiet moments like these, she could admit to herself that deep down, a part of her was hoping for that fairy-tale ending. She had suffered so much, and Antonio had suffered more. Didn't they deserve a miracle?

Doesn't Heather? she thought, biting her lower lip. Who was looking for her sister? No one. Yes, Father Juan was casting spells and throwing his runes, but he was deep in the forest with Gramma Esther searching for the Tears of Christ. Jamie was looking for Skye, and Noah was infiltrating Greg's lab. There was no one left to spare for Heather.

Because they think she's a lost cause, she thought, and a sob escaped her. And I-I think so too.

”No,” she murmured. ”Please.”

Did Antonio stir?

She glanced his way. Her heart skipped a beat as she studied him. She didn't want to look under the blanket. Antonio could function in the daylight if he had to, although it made him very tired. But when he rested, he looked dead: his eyes half-open and unfocused; his lips parted, revealing his fangs. She and he had broken into vampire lairs and staked sleeping vampires together. What did he think when he looked down on them split seconds before he turned them to dust?

”Jenn,” Antonio whispered from beneath the blanket.

She blinked and set down her teacup. Remaining where she was, she took a breath.

”Yes?” she said.

”Could you . . . ?” The blanket moved. His hand slid slowly from beneath it, as if it weighed a ton, and he fumbled at the edge, as if trying to pull it off his face. ”Ay, Jenn.”

She touched the cross she wore around her neck; then, flus.h.i.+ng, she reached into a bag and pulled out the stake she had whittled from a tree branch after they had landed. Hefting it in her right hand, she lowered her arm to her side as she got up and walked over to him, then cautiously knelt beside him.

She pulled the blanket from his face. His brown eyes-not red-focused on her, and he smiled.

”Are you okay?” she asked.

”I . . .” He looked away. ”I had a dream.”

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