making a venomous stalactite. With any luck, it would drip on him.
“How come his magic is working?” Ivy asked.
I pressed deeper into the shelter of the TV. “He’s used to the lines here.” I wished I was. But in all fairness, his bubbles weren’t lasting long, either. Maybe that was the trick to it.
“Hey, Ivy,” I said, a sudden thought coursing through me. I couldn’t tap a line worth a damn, but I knew a spell that used just quick bursts instead of long, drawn-out pulls like a circle. Maybe if I kept spindling power, filtering it, as it were, I could do something. “I’ve got an idea,” I said, turning the gun over and opening the hopper.
Ivy’s confused expression softened to one of amusement as I shook a little yellow ball into my palm, clearly remembering our games in the graveyard where I deflected splat balls shot by Ivy and thrown by the pixies. All I needed was some ley-line energy and a focusing object. “But you can’t tap a line,” she protested as I jammed the hopper back into place and handed the gun to her.
“I can. I just can’t hold on to them for very long,” I said, shifting my shoulders as the broken energy seeped in, filling my chi and spilling over to be spindled in my head. My damp hair would stay flat, not giving me away. “Here, you take the gun, I’ll deflect what they shoot.” I didn’t need Pierce. We could do this together, like we always did. Relying on him had made me soft.
Ivy’s smile grew. “Ready?” she asked, ducking as a splat ball zipped inches over her.
I wasn’t, but she had already leapt into motion, the little
His eyes alight, Oliver shifted to aim at me. My heart pounded. Four puffs of air sounded loud, but my hand was moving already, the thumb and pinkie showing direction and distance, the three middle fingers giving my spell strength.
My ley-line spell hit the splat ball headed toward Ivy, and the yellow plastic bounced as if hitting a wall, deflecting back to Wyatt. His eyes widened as he pulled back, and the ball vanished somewhere inside the bathroom. I could do this. It would work!
“Rachel!” Ivy shouted, and I spun, hand raised to ward off Wyatt’s next shot. I didn’t have enough time for a spell, and my circle was sputtering out its existence. I dove for cover. His shot went wide as he pulled back too soon, ducking behind his own circle for an instant. Crap, this wasn’t working, but even as I prepped to deflect another charm, I watched the glob I put on the bathroom ceiling
Wyatt jerked as the spell hit his head, reaching up to touch the cold spot, his expression shifting to alarm. His eyes met mine, and I stood, hearing Ivy shooting at Oliver and Leon. “Son of a bitch,” Wyatt said, hatred in the expression he directed at me, and then his eyes rolled back and he dropped.
Two down. At least until the charm broke from the salt in the air.
Grinning, I pulled heavily on the shattered lines, spindling energy that tasted like broken rock deep in me. Ivy was out of ammo, and she threw her gun down in disgust. Still, she didn’t hide behind the door, but boldly strode forward to the kitchen, beside me.
My brother’s thin face that Oliver wore was red and ugly as he stood in the kitchen and shot at me, backing up as I came forward. His eyes became more and more frightened and his shots wilder as I absorbed his magic in quickly invoked bubbles I took down as soon as his magic hit them. I felt like a demon, unstoppable, and a part of me was worried even as I enjoyed the sensation.
“Why won’t you die!” he yelled at me, and I backed him up past Leon. The young witch was crouched in the corner, his gun shaking. But Oliver still didn’t get it. Four coven members reduced to two, soon to be one, all because of a little more knowledge, and it wasn’t even black. I could spindle ley-line energy, and they couldn’t. It had made all the difference.
“You need to shut up,” I said, and feeling Ivy behind me, I swung my foot in a wide crescent kick. That Oliver still looked like my brother was going to be a bonus.
Oliver’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened in protest as he saw my foot coming. “No!” he managed, and then it connected with his jaw.
The shock reverberated up through my leg, and I jumped back, hopping on one foot as the other throbbed, the pain a sharp stab. This was exactly why I hadn’t used my fist, and I staggered. Ivy gripped my arm, and together we found our balance. “You really need to just shut up,” I whispered, my weight on my good foot as I looked down at Oliver, out cold and slumped into the cupboards. Spots of potion hissed and subsided, and I looked up to be sure there was nothing on the ceiling ready to drip on me. I felt drained, and I frowned as Ivy let me go.
My eyes went to Leon, pressed against the cupboards. Scared, he dropped his gun and kicked it across the tile toward us. Seemed like it was all over but for the lawsuits.
As Ivy smiled at the frightened witch, I crouched before Oliver, fingering the cord to the questionably legal ley-line charm that turned him into my brother.
“You going to be good?” Ivy asked Leon, and when he nodded, she sauntered out of the kitchen. I watched her, slightly concerned. She had taken care of herself yesterday and so wasn’t hungry, but fighting brought out the worst in her.
“Watch out for that dripping potion,” I warned her, and she dragged Wyatt onto the carpet before hoisting him up and dumping him unceremoniously next to Oliver. Amanda was next. At least I thought it was Amanda.
“What are you going to do to us?” Leon whispered, and my eyes flicked to his, holding his gaze. “We will be missed. You can’t just kill us.”
“My God, do you really think I want to kill you?” I said, disgusted, though chucking them out the window had occurred to me. They would just send assassins after us until I fled to the ever-after and everyone I ever knew was in jail. But he had brought up a good point. I had them. Now what?
“Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” I said, irate. I slid aside to give Ivy more room as she pulled the image of my mother into the kitchen and let her slump over Wyatt. The woman’s eyes were twitching as the charm began to break. Oliver, too, was stirring, his wincing eyes shut as his fingers fluttered up and over his swelling cheek. Good. I had a few things to say to him. That the potions had lasted this long was a testimony to coven magic. Oliver might look stupid and slow, but he wasn’t. He was just backward as all hell.
“Do you have an anticharm for this?” I asked Leon, wanting to hurry things up.
He was still pressed into the corner, and his eyes darted to the front pocket of Wyatt’s jacket. “S-salt water,” he stammered.
“Thanks,” I said, gingerly searching the spelled witch until I found a couple of the little vials.
Only now did I take the amulet off my not-mother, smirking as the slightly chunky blond earth witch shimmered into existence. Yeah, it was Amanda. I flicked the top off a vial of salt water and dumped it on her. She came to, sputtering as she pushed herself off Oliver and sat with her back to the cupboards. Wyatt was next, glaring at me as soon as he could focus.
“If you move, I break your fingers,” I told the ley-line witch, then turned to Amanda, crouching to look in her eyes. “Hi, Amanda,” I mocked, and her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything, terrified. “Don’t worry,” I said as I straightened and backed up. “I’m not going to eat you. At least not today. If you make me go hide in the ever-after, I might have a different answer for you.”
Ivy silently handed me one of the two remaining guns before she took up a position near the wide entryway to the kitchen, blocking their exit and still having a good view of the hallway through the blown-off door. Her feet were spread wide, her hands were on her hips, and her eyes were dark. The fear and anger weren’t dissipating nearly fast enough. Sure, the coven was down, and we had their guns, but what was I supposed to do with them now? Trent would slap a forget curse on them. Pierce would probably want to give them to Al, seeing that those of their ilk had buried him alive. I wasn’t going to do either, and I was the one they called black. It just wasn’t fair.
