Emily chuckled. “I hardly think you’re capable of keeping your mouth shut, Michael.” She rolled her eyes again. “But no. That’s not what I meant by there’s no help.”
“Then what did you mean?” He was now serious. Emily could tell he was battling with thinking the worst.
“Your dad isn’t dead,” Emily started. “No one is dead . . . yet. But if we don’t get out of here, if we don’t go out to help them, they won’t be alive for much longer.”
“Stop talking in parables, Emily, and tell me what’s happening,” Michael retorted. The venom back in his voice. The hatred that he never seemed to be able to scrub off his words whenever he spoke to her.
Emily tried not to get pissed at him. “The whole town has been enslaved by the evil rove.”
“That’s impossible!” Michael laughed nervously. The uncertainty in his voice was as clear as daylight. His laughter ceased. “Tell me this is all a joke.”
Emily shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Michael.” She shut her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. She was about to delve into the story that was going to rock his world. She needed all the inspiration she could get. “Promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Promise me that you’ll allow me to finish—not interrupt me—whatever you hear,” Emily requested. “Promise me.”
Michael nodded. “I promise.” He folded his arms. “I won’t interrupt you. But I can’t say I won’t have questions after whatever it is you want to say.”
“Fair enough.” And with a deep sigh, she launched into the whole story.
16
The Alfreds continued to hurl fireballs at the dome. Every now and then, one fireball would cause the entire cottage to shudder at its foundation. Once or twice, Emily thought the cottage would come down on itself, but it remained—like an age-old mountain that could never be removed. It stood strong.
Emily told Michael everything that had happened. She started at the beginning. She started at when she’d been taking the bus to Dallas once a month to turn into her Owl form. She even explained that this was the reason he wasn’t able to get anything on her. The moment she released into her Owl form, she didn’t have to release again until the next month.
If she did it consistently, she could live for years and years and no one would know she was a shifter. This was how she planned to live her life until she received a mysterious text message that changed everything, that revealed someone knew her secret.
She suspected everybody. This led her to question everybody. After she’d vetted everyone, she’d turned up empty. Except that she’d been discovered by her best friend, Joanna, and probably her worst enemy, Rina—both of whom were now in the clutches of the Alfreds.
Emily saw the question form on Michael’s face when she spoke about Rina and Joanna. She raised a finger to preempt his question, flashing him a knowing look to remind him of his promise not to interrupt her.
Michael didn’t look like he liked it, but he sighed and nodded nonetheless.
Emily proceeded to tell him about how she’d discovered more about the evil rove and how she’d made a pact with the two girls to get to the bottom of things. She told him how her house had been vandalized in broad daylight and no one noticed—not even her neighbors.
Finally, she told him about how they discovered Nadarog Maragog. At this point, she had to use the term once, much to Selena’s horror, and explained to Michael how she didn’t want him to say the term again because of what it did to The Owl. They agreed on using the abbreviation Na-Ma. Emily explained what Na-Ma meant and how all this time, right from Mr. Winter’s father’s death until the time of their conversation, this family of evil roves had been seeking to perform the Na-Ma ritual.
Emily had gotten to the point of no return. She could either stop the story there, or go ahead to tell Michael everything. She decided to go ahead and spill it all. This shouldn’t be her burden to bear alone.
“The ritual involves two species of supernatural,” Emily started. She went on to explain the ritual as she understood it—how the ritual required an Owl and a warlock or witch . . . and they had to be siblings.
Michael, then and there, hissed a sigh of relief. “For a moment there, I thought I was the one.”
Emily didn’t reply. She only pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve been having these dreams, you know . . . ,” he proceeded.
She knew. But she wasn’t going to tell him.
“Dreams about this girl being sacrificed on some altar in a dark cave somewhere,” Michael continued. “She’s sacrificed by a rove, obviously, and he’s very ancient. I can feel his power. He’s so strong. Unfathomably so . . .” He let his words trail off.
Michael looked into Emily’s eyes. He gave her a nervous smile. “I don’t know why I always thought it was you, though. Anytime I thought about the girl, I always thought about you. I didn’t really see her face. I just had an impression.”
He shook his head. “Maybe it was because, at the time, I was obsessed with catching you. I was sure you were an Owl.” That’s where his train of thought snagged on the truth. Fear exploded in his eyes. “You are an Owl,” he muttered.
“Indeed,” Emily said, almost amused.
“And they came for me.” Michael sounded confused—like he was trying to put a puzzle together, but the pieces didn’t fit. “Alfred Senior. Or, rather, I went after him, to prove to him that I wasn’t who he thought I was . . .”
“Yet, you were.”
“Yet, I was,” Michael replied dreamily. “They think—” His mouth froze in position, words escaping him.
Emily’s heart hung on tenterhooks.
Michael shook his head. “No, they can’t! That’s preposterous!” He cackled somewhat maniacally, his laughter tearing through the night air.
Emily allowed
