Lies & Omens

it and shedding rock dust over Zoe’s damp hair.

Zoe opened her eyes. “I don’t like you either. But you can’t bait me into using magic. Into letting you burn me out.”

Erinya breathed out magic. Sylvie, who’d felt the entire island like an itch against her skin, suddenly felt like she’d stepped into poison ivy. Zoe closed her eyes again but kept talking.

“Val Cassavetes trained me. You know Val. Woman whose home you’ve turned into a Yucatán jungle. She’s good at what she does. She taught me more than how to scavenge power. She taught me how to refuse it. Told me that sometimes the best skill a witch had was not sucking up the available power.”

Erinya huffed. “So you’re not only a thief, you’re a picky one?”

Zoe grinned nastily. “I am a discerning shopper. I am educated and elegant, and I like the finer things. And you’re all blunt-force power, unthinking and crude—”

“Zoe!” Sylvie shouted. “Shut up.” Before Erinya stopped trying to burn her out and just bit her head off. Sylvie didn’t understand why Erinya seemed so pissed. She’d heard worse before. Sylvie chalked it up to Zoe’s special ability to needle in just the right way.

“I could bring Merrow back. Let him do all the things to you he promised he would. His little pet.” Erinya’s teeth were coated in blood, her voice thick as if she were savaging her own tongue.

Lupe had picked up the nutria and was staring at its furry face with an expression that veered between it’s so cute and I could eat it. Finally, Lupe set the rodent down, watched it scamper for a bolt-hole near the river—when did the living room get a river? And did it run fresh or salt this close to the sea? Sylvie shook the irrelevant thoughts away in time to hear Lupe say, “Eri. Don’t be silly. She’s just a girl.”

“So are you,” Erinya snarled.

“No, I’m not,” Lupe said. “She’s in high school. I’m a junior in college. Was a junior. Now, I’m a monster.”

“This place is a madhouse,” Alex said, trying to add her own distraction. “Erinya, the TV just spat out little snake things. You want to go clear them away? It’s freaking me out.”

“No,” Sylvie said. “Everyone chill out. Focus. Erinya. I need you to find Demalion for me. Then I need you to send me and Zoe there. The nice way.” It was a bad idea, but it was the only one she had left. Dunne hadn’t even let her ask him if he could find Demalion.

“Send me, too,” Lupe said.

Erinya’s teeth flashed, and she beat Sylvie to the reflexive “No!” The howl made the stones shake.

Zoe slipped away from Erinya’s gaze and sidled over to Sylvie. “You owe me,” she whispered. “Like new boots and a matching purse owe me.”

“Dream on,” Sylvie said. “I’m not enabling your fashion habit.” Her eyes never left the argument before them.

Erinya paced and snarled and slunk and lashed her tail. Lupe sat calmly and made her case. “What else am I supposed to do,” Lupe said. “Sit here in my jungle castle while you go and have all the fun? I’m a monster, Eri. Let me make the most of it. You said you wanted to see me hunt? Those people deserve me.”

“And you need me,” Zoe said, interrupting. “So don’t get any funny ideas about dropping me midtransport.”

Erinya growled, and Sylvie told Zoe, “You know, I’m rethinking taking you.”

“Oh please,” Zoe said. “I mean, I guess you’re good. You keep going up against magical things without magic. And you’re still alive. But you’re walking into a coven of witches. How many spells can you fend off at once?”

“And Yvette’s got monsters on tap,” Lupe said. “Wasn’t that the problem? The Good Sisters using monsters to get rid of their enemies?”

“You’re a monster,” Sylvie said. “By your own definition. If you go, I’ll have to watch my back around you. What’s to keep you from being turned against me—”

“Me,” Erinya said. “I’ll burn them all out.”

“No,” Sylvie said. “You are definitely not invited. It’s witches. I can handle witches. I cannot handle massive civilian casualties.”

Erinya said, “There are so many of you. Like ants. Should I be bothered by ants?”

“Is Lupe an ant?”

“No, she’s mine!” Erinya flashed another burst of pointed magic at Zoe, and Zoe rebuffed it though she looked shaky.

“No one’s arguing that. Enough!” Sylvie snapped. For a wonder, this time they all fell silent. Sylvie let out a breath. “Alex, you’re not looking well. Go lie down, try not to listen to our plans. It’s only going to tug at those sore spots in your brain. Try not to worry. We’re going to fix it. Zoe. Would you pack a bag? Anything you can find in the house that might help break the Corrective.”

“Yeah, like Erinya left anything useful in the house—”

“Zoe. Just go.”

“New boots. New purse. New coat.” Zoe stomped out of the room, and the tension faded sharply.

“I am coming,” Lupe said.

“Yeah, you are,” Sylvie said. “Mostly because I don’t want to fight you. I want to fight witches. So you’d better damn well not let any of the Good Sisters leash you and turn you against us.”

“She’s mine,” Erinya muttered again. “She won’t be leashed or seduced.”

“Fine,” Sylvie said, and faced her main problem. Erinya. One part of her thought to hell with it. The Society deserved all the pain Erinya could bring them. That same part whispered, if she just made it clear enough, made Erinya understand why bystanders should be left alone, left safe, why their attacks should be pinpoint and confined … It was a seductive thought, but ultimately not believable. Erinya would raze everything to the ground.

“Where are they?” Sylvie asked. Easiest way to make the decision. Like she even had a say. She cursed Dunne and his god-view of time. All urgency for humans, and none of their own kind. By the time he considered her request, they’d be deep into the body counts.

“Demalion? He’s surrounded by witches.”

“That’s good,” Sylvie said. “Where, exactly?”

“There,” Erinya said, waving a clawed hand in a westward direction. Fury, Sylvie thought. Not good with the details.

“Eri, I need more than that. I need a place name. An address. Is Demalion thinking anything?”

“Huh,” Erinya said, “Thinking about you. He’s annoyed. Thought you’d be there by now.”

“Great,” Sylvie said. “Just what I need. More guilt. Tell him I’d get there if he’d been a little more clear about where there is!”

“San Francisco,” Erinya said.

“Oh, fuck,” Sylvie said. Worst-case scenario. High population density, close quarters, and just for funsies, on a fault line. Forget involving Erinya. Forget instantaneous god-travel. It was overrated anyway. They could fly the normal way. And then hunt for witches in a big city. And Lupe would be no problem with TSA, and Sylvie’s guns would be checked without comment. …

Sylvie gritted her teeth. Why couldn’t Val have a private plane and a pilot on staff?

Erinya gloated. “You need me. You don’t trust me. But you need me. You think any other god will come to your call? I’ve been gracious and generous, and you should be grateful. I’ll take us all there, and we’ll slaughter them to the last witch.”

“I’m going to get my guns,” Sylvie said. What was the point in arguing? She’d gambled. She’d lost. Dunne wasn’t going to help. Erinya was. Sylvie just hoped she could live with the aftermath.

She found Zoe hiding out in the guest room, still less jungle than the other rooms, and said, “You ready?”

“Is she coming with us?”

“Afraid so. I can’t make her not come.”

“You resist her pretty well,” Zoe said.