Eternity

when she heard wheels turning into the driveway.

Aunt Nora emerged from the car and her linen skirt billowed behind her as she walked toward the flower bed.

“What’s going on? What’s going on here?” She looked back and forth between Lucy, who had retreated back into her private universe, and Em, who tried to explain. She prayed that Nora hadn’t seen her turn momentarily violent.

“I came over after school, to tell you . . . I thought you should know that Walt Feiffer is—dead,” she blurted out. “And Lucy was here, outside here, and she started talking. I think about the Furies. She was saying something about seeds, and a light. . . . ” Em trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“Emily, I’m sorry,” Nora said after a long pause. “I really am. But we’ve had enough tragedy here. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. ?And I can’t help you any more than I already have.”

“Nora, I need your help,” Em pleaded, but Nora ignored her. “I don’t have much time.”

“Let’s go inside, Lucy.” Nora said as she started guiding Lucy toward the front door. When she reached the entryway, she looked over her shoulder at Em.

“Please don’t come here again. You’re not welcome.” Then she slammed the door before Em could sputter out a response.

Em’s head was spinning. Flowers. Seeds. The albino. Could the answer have been in front of her all along? For the first time in days, she felt a surge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she had one last chance to save herself.

* * *

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” Em’s mom said when Em pulled into the driveway. It was dusk on Monday evening and Mrs. Winters was in the yard, scrubbing their kitchen curtains by hand in a huge soapy bucket on the lawn. “I thought you were going to try and catch up on some homework with Gabby today.”

“I couldn’t really concentrate,” Em admitted. “Thought I’d come home and see what was going on around here.”

“Em, honey, we’ve got it under control. . . . ” Her mom leaned back on her heels and sighed.

Sorry, Mom, homework and lab reports have been taking a backseat to fighting the bloodthirsty witches who want my soul.

“I’ll get everything done,” Em promised. “We barely got any sleep last night and I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t know how bad it was, you know?”

“Well, the damage is worst in the laundry room and the kitchen,” her mom said. “Your father took the day off—he’s in there now, ripping up what’s left of the linoleum. We’ll have to get new cabinets and patch up the walls. But it’s nowhere near as bad as it could have been. Nowhere close. Plumbing works.”

“Can we, like, still live here?” Em looked up at the house and felt a wave of nostalgia. She just wanted to curl up on her bed and smell her family’s laundry detergent. What if Lucy’s words held meaning? What if Em actually had a fighting chance?

“Yes,” her mom said. “Things are going to be in shambles for a few weeks, but it’s safe. We’ll be able to sleep in our own beds.”

That was a relief.

“What caused it?” Em asked, even though she thought she knew. The Furies were egging her on. Teasing her. Daring her. Turning this into a game.

“Something with the wiring,” her mom said, waving her hand vaguely.

Em kneeled down in the cold grass next to her. “Mom,” she said, reaching out to touch her mother’s arm. “Thank you for waking me up last night.”

“You think I would leave you in a burning house?” her mom responded. “Only if you forget Mother’s Day.” She nudged Em with her shoulder, then grew serious. “I’ll always do what I can to protect you, sweetie. But I’ll be much more effective if I know what’s going on in your life. Like this Colin. Care to tell me who he is?”

“He’s just an old friend of Drea’s who’s having a hard time right now,” Em said. “He had nothing to do with the fire.”

“I’m not accusing him of anything, Emily,” her mom said, wringing out a curtain. “I just like to know the young men who visit in the middle of the night. Next time he comes over I’d like to meet him under more relaxed circumstances.”

She tried to imagine Crow sitting on their living room couch, making small talk with her parents. . . . It was so absurd, she almost laughed out loud. “Sure, Mom, if that will make you feel better.”

“It will,” her mother said. “Thank you for humoring me.”

Em started to get up.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” her mom asked for the thousandth time.

If her mother only knew—if she had even the slightest idea of what was going on—could she help? Would she be able to? It was tempting for Em to succumb to the childish notion: Mommy will fix this. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell the truth. Not because she was worried that her mom would think she’d gone truly insane (though that would probably happen too), but because she was ashamed to admit the mistake that had bound her to the Furies in the first place. It was like light-years had passed since that fateful night when she and Zach shared their first kiss. She felt like a different person. She was a different person. And no one could fix things but her.

“I’m gonna be fine,” she whispered, her throat hoarse with regret. She wished she believed it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Once I send this, it will be too late for me, Walt’s letter read. JD lay in his bedroom, rereading the thin sheet of paper for what felt like the millionth time.

I started seeing the visions when I was young, the letter said. Thought I was just overdoing it with the late nights and the partying. I used to see these three figures. Dark. Women. Snakes in their hair. I saw them coming here. I knew they would come even before they did. Because they’d been here before, just like they’ve been everywhere.

And then my Edie summoned them because she didn’t know any other way. There wasn’t any other way to get rid of him. That’s what she thought, anyway. I didn’t know everything—not then. She thought he was coming after Drea.

They really got their claws in her. And so she made a deal with them, some sort of arrangement. After that, everything changed. She thought she was tied to them forever. She thought they’d never leave her alone. So I did what I had to do.

I offered a sacrifice. What else do the gods ever want? It’s been that way forever. Greeks knew it. The Romans, too.

The gods and goddesses want sacrifice, plain and simple.

They want blood. Blood like the color of those orchids.

I saw that in my visions.

JD was starting to get pins and needles in his right arm. He flipped onto his other side and kept reading.

Edie kept talking about fire. About how there had been a fire here, in Ascension. That’s when the Furies first infiltrated this place. I thought I could draw them back. With a fire. End it how it all began. I saw that in my visions too.

The way I saw it, I was offering Drea as a sacrifice. An innocent. The way it happened in my visions, I put Drea in the middle of a circle of sticks and a pile of those red flowers. She was wearing a gold pin— shaped like a snake. It was her mother’s. I figured it was for good luck or something. I’d light the fire, watch it burn . . . and then they’d disappear. Drea would always be safe. It was like they got cheated. It was like they got tricked. Because they got nothing.