For whatever reason, at the sight of Marion, Emily’s heart pounded harder in her chest. The girl was a bit shorter than Marion, but no less elegant. If she wasn’t part of the evil team, Emily might have fawned over her and desired her as a little sister. She was that cute. But not so much now.
The brother and sister stood by the vehicle and looked at her with grim faces. Marion had an icy edge to his scowl. He probably hated Emily for what she had done to him and to his family’s house.
Emily wondered if the Alfred Mansion survived the fire. She remembered torching every inch of the building, hoping it would burn down to the stone pillars and the foundation. They might have used their magic to stave the fire. Or did the fire not respond to magic just as she was impervious to magic?
The young man finally stood up. He was bare-chested now, the electricity having burned away what remained of his robes from the previous scorching. But he also wore thick, black pants, which had not been so much as singed.
The young Alfred had rippling biceps. In the smooth wind, his ebony hair wavered, and he looked like a male model right out of a fashion magazine.
Emily felt her will waver. A desire to fall into the young man’s powerful arms overcame her, to be stroked by his delicate fingers, and maybe kissed by his soft lips. To look into his precious eyes and capture one hundred percent of his attention. Desired to . . .
Oh, come off it, Emily! Selena snapped. He’s handsome. I get it. But he’s also evil. Cool your jets.
Emily cleared her throat and looked away for a moment, trying to refocus her mind. She wasn’t always like this—really, she wasn’t ever like this. Just something about these darn Alfred boys. Maybe it was a spell?
It’s no spell. Selena interrupted Emily’s thoughts. You’re attracted to him. It’s perfectly normal. He looks like a Greek god.
Emily rolled her eyes and looked back up to the guy. He was beaming at her.
“Why so cheery, though?” she asked with a frown.
The young man smiled even wider. He stretched his hands and said like a master salesman, “What’s not to be cheery about? It’s a fine evening, and the wind is blowing right.”
Emily looked around, wondering why that was such a big deal. It was regularly a fine evening, and the wind didn’t start blowing just today. So why the fuss? “And so?”
“And so, it’s a good night to die.” He said it with so much happiness that, for a moment, Emily was confused. How could someone issue such a malevolent threat with such delightful gusto? How could someone be so vile and rejoice in their evilness like that? It didn’t add up.
She’d always believed that happiness was a matter of goodness. And sadness was a matter of evil. Now, she was beginning to believe otherwise. If good people could have sad things happen to them, then why couldn’t evil people have happy things happen to them? The world was indeed an unjust, unfair, and cruel place. She needed to learn to deal with it.
“So that’s your plan?” Emily asked, just for clarity purposes. “You plan to kill us?”
“Err . . . not all of you and not at the same time.”
Emily folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, no cloak and dagger, remember? Be frank and honest with me. What’s the exact plan?”
He nodded and heaved a sigh. “The plan is simple. We’re going to bring down this barrier. Might take us the whole day—or a week—but we’re here until it goes down because the alternative is worse.”
Emily nodded. “Go on.”
“Then we’re going to kill your dad because he’s useless to us,” the young man went on. “Then imprison you and Michael and the old hag.”
“Right. What happens next?”
“We take you back to the castle,” the young rove continued. “Or what’s left of it. Your fire did a thorough job. It took all the magic my parents had to keep it from getting to the more vital areas. That’s why they’re not here and won’t be for the next three days or so—they need to regain their strength.”
“Keep going.”
“Anyway, we take you to the castle. Mom takes out her revenge on the old hag and kills her. You and Michael will be delivered to my dad, who would then perform the ritual of Nadarog Maragog.”
Selena’s panic startled Emily into a slight jump backward.
This surprised the guy before her. “Did I say something wrong? Was it Nad—”
“Stop!”
The guy threw both hands in the air. “Okay . . . okay. What is it though? You have a thing against the word?”
“No, it’s my Owl,” Emily grumbled. “She hates hearing the term. It makes her scream in my mind.”
“And you can hear The Owl?” He tried to look nonchalant, but he sounded curious.
Emily wondered if she was revealing too much. Yeah, sure, the guy had been honest with her. However, could she actually believe all he’d said? “Yup,” was all she offered.
“Huh,” the guy said, looking up and thinking to himself.
“What’s ‘huh’?”
He looked back down at her and shrugged. “Dad said you were the perfect person to die upon the altar of Saka. I was like, no, the chick is pretty. Can’t we like wait one more generation? He said no. It had to be you. I wondered why. Now I see.”
Emily did her best to look calm while, in reality, she was stupefied by terror. Altar of Saka? She understood why she was the perfect candidate for the sacrifice. She and Selena had a strong bond. It was supposed to be easier for her to go through the Adoption. She pressed her lips into a line. “So, you’re just going to kill me without remorse?”
The guy shook his head. “I’m not killing anybody. Except your dad, because he’s dead weight. My dad
