Dad stood up, too. “Sophie, I told you once that being head of the Council required a great deal of sacrifice. That woman has lied to me, destroyed a young woman for her own purposes, and just attempted to murder my daughter.” Magic was rolling off him so strongly that I felt like I should probably sit down again. “Believe me,” he continued, “I want nothing more than to smite her out of existence. But I can’t. Not until I have concrete evidence.”
Smiting sounded good to me, but, as much as I hated it, I knew he was right. “Man, politics suck,” I muttered.
Dad took my hand. “Sophie, I swear, we will get to the bottom of this. And when we do, Lara and Anastasia and anyone else who had part in this madness will be punished.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I wanted to wait for Nick to show up, mostly to lend Dad some moral support, but he told me to go on up to my room. “You look like you’re about to fall over,” he said, walking me across the hall to the back staircase. “I could get Cal—”
“No,” I said quickly. “I just need some alone time.”
Dad nodded. “All right. Go get some rest.”
Those were the easiest directions I’d ever been given. But as I turned to go, Dad added, “And I am calling your mother now.”
There was no use in arguing with him. I knew a determined face when I saw one. He would call Mom, and she’d fly out here ASAP and drag me back to…well, I didn’t know where. It wasn’t like I could go back to Hex Hall.
Those thoughts were way too tired-making, so I dragged myself upstairs and then took the longest, most scalding shower known to man. I knew it would take a lot more than hot water to wash away all the dread and sadness that threatened to overcome me, but it still helped. And I was meeting Archer in just a little bit, so I definitely wanted to clean up for that.
I was feeling a little better when I opened the shower door, but that immediately vanished when I saw Elodie standing in my bathroom. She looked a little more solid this time and a lot more freaked out. Her lips were moving fast and furiously, and I couldn’t make out a thing she was trying to say. “I know,” I muttered as I wrapped a robe around myself. “I probably need to hit the gym more often or something, but honestly, if you’re going to haunt me, we need to establish some boundaries.”
She threw up her hands and floated up higher, her face a mix of anger and anxiety. Something told me that whatever she was trying to say was more important than the ten pounds I could stand to lose.
A sharp rap at my bedroom door made me jump, and even Elodie’s head swung toward the noise. “Stay right here,” I said, pointing a finger at her. She responded by flipping me off. Lovely.
It was Lara at the door, her face every bit as worried as Elodie’s. “Have you seen Nick?”
My skin prickled. “No, why?”
She twisted one of her rings. “We still can’t find him. And after everything that’s happened with Daisy, you can see why that’s very troubling.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Elodie hovering outside the bathroom door, waving her ghostly arms for all she was worth.
“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” I said before shutting the door—gently—in Lara’s face.
“What?” I whispered, turning back to Elodie. She floated back into the bathroom, gesturing for me to follow.
But when I got in there, she was gone. “Oh, great,” I said out loud. “Even in death, you’re a pain in my —”
But then writing began to appear on the steamy mirror. It was slow and painstaking, but finally, one word appeared.
ARCHER.
Two more words appeared, and dread curled in my stomach, heavy as a brick.
MILL. NICK.
“Oh, God,” I murmured.
GO.
chapter 35
As I ran out the front door in my bathrobe, it occurred to me that someone would surely ask me where I was going. Panic surged through me even as magic coiled up from my feet.
The teleportation spell. I’d never been able to move more than ten feet, and the mill was at least half a mile away. Still, I had to try.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, drawing my powers deep inside myself, trying to calm down. It probably only took five seconds, but it felt like hours until I felt the frigid wind wrap itself around me, felt my blood slow in my veins.
I was almost afraid to open my eyes when the cold subsided, but when I did, I found myself standing right in front of the corn mill. Any relief I might have felt over the spell working faded the instant I stepped inside. I could feel the residual charge of magic in the air. Dark magic.
“Archer?” I called out, my heart pounding so loudly I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear anything else.
But then, from the back of the mill, I heard a faint and wheezing, “Mercer.”
A sob burst from my throat as I ran to the alcove. Archer was lying on his back, his hands on his chest. In the moonlight he looked like he’d been splashed all over with ink.
But the substance covering his chest and spreading out in a large pool underneath him wasn’t ink or black paint, or any of the other things my desperate mind tried to tell me it could be. There was a faint metallic smell that reminded me of when Jenna would feed in our room.
I dropped to my knees beside him, touching his cheek. It was felt cool and clammy under my hand. “This is…what I get…for coming early,” he gasped out, trying to smile at me.
“Please don’t joke and bleed at the same time,” I said as I gently lifted his hands from his chest. It was too dark to see the extent of his injuries, which was probably a good thing. Still, his shirt was shiny and slick with blood, and his breathing was shallow.
“It was this guy,” he murmured. “Came…out of nowhere. Think he had…claws.”
Oh, God. That explained the gashes, but the thought of Nick, every bit as savage as Daisy had been, slicing into Archer made bile rise up in my throat.
I breathed in through my nose until the feeling passed. “You’re going to be okay,” I said, but my voice was wavering and I was shaking. “It’s probably not even that bad, and you’re just being a big drama queen as usual.” My magic was crashing around inside me like a choppy sea, and I was too upset to focus on anything. Still, I tried. I stroked his forehead and tried to channel my powers through him, tried to close all the gaping wounds on his chest and stomach.
The bleeding slowed a little, but that was the best I could do, and he’d already lost so much blood. I sat back on my heels, wanting to scream in frustration. What was the point of having the powers of gods if you couldn’t help the people you loved?
Shivering, Archer grasped one of my hands with his. “Lost cause, Mercer.”
“Don’t say that!” I cried.
He shook his head. His teeth were chattering so hard he could barely speak, but he managed to say, “This was always going to happen…sooner or later. Wish…it had been…later.”
I wanted to tell him no again, that he would be fine, but there was no point. Even in the darkness I could see how white he was, and how scared his eyes were. The pool of blood under him was so huge it was hard to believe there was any blood left in his body.
He was dying, and we both knew it. There was nothing I could do.
But there was someone who could.
I leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, “Cross, please, just hold on for a few more minutes, okay?
