Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Her first instinct was to create some kind of death ray that she could point at them from space. Maybe while laughing maniacally. But because it had been three days of them doing god knows what to Seth, she thought it was more important to be fast.

So she settled for doing the bare minimum.

First, she needed to figure out exactly how they had taken Seth. Mainly so she could confirm they hadn't circumvented her magic. You don't want to run in all guns blazing if they have a blazing-gun nullifier , she told herself as she used an enchanted magnifying glass to go over the Forget Me that hung around Seth's house.

And she found what she was looking for. A sort of warping by the tree line. A tear, of the sort that Seth had definitely made himself. He'd crossed through on purpose, like she'd thought. But for a reason other than joining the wolf pack, quite clearly.

They were on the premises, and up to nothing good, and he saw them and decided to confront them , her mind supplied. All of which fit so well she could hardly believe she hadn't thought of it before. That was Seth. Brave and good, but also absolutely ridiculous enough to not even consider that it might be a trap. All he would have wanted to do was rush in, to stop whatever misbehavior was going on.

My big, foolish goofball , she thought. But all thinking that did was to stop her breath. She had to take a second to calm down, hands on her knees, eyes closed. Though she felt no better once she'd straightened.

Now she had to think about where they'd taken him.

Or worse: what if they hadn't taken him anywhere at all? It was perfectly possible that they had killed him. She knew it was, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Slitting his throat, leaving her forever bereft and thinking she'd been betrayed—it was the perfect revenge. And one that was permanent, even if she figured it out. Because then she would have to live with herself—with the fact that she'd spent three days believing her sweet Seth was an asshole.

And she just wasn't capable of living with that possibility.

It made her periodically groan and clutch herself, to the point where Pod tried to bring her soothing things. Like half an uneaten pizza she didn't know he'd ordered, or his favorite sock, or the TV remote she thought she had lost a week earlier. None of which helped. Nothing helped.

She had to make a Find Me mirror with her heart in her throat and tears in her eyes.

It was really not a surprise when it turned out badly.

All she could see was someone's elbow. Though luckily, it was an elbow she would have known anywhere. Thank god I mapped out every inch of his body , she thought, and then laughed. And Pod laughed. And all the lights in the house went on and off again, as if somewhere her beloved grandmother was glad, too.

Seth was alive. Now it was just a matter of making sure he stayed that way.

"Okay, buddy," she said to her furry little companion. "Time to go get your dad back."

And in response, Pod clapped his tiny hands with joy.

S HE KNEW THEY knew she had come. She could feel it crackling in the air, the moment she entered the House That Isn't Here. A kind of tension—the residue of werewolf fear. Plus, there was no golden, glowing hallway to greet her.

All the lights were out, with no discernible way to turn them back on.

But it was okay. She'd thought of that. She'd brewed a potion that formed a glowing blue ball, when she spilled a drop of it into the air. And more: it seemed to guide her. When she stepped to the door of the first room, the orb kept going. It floated all the way to the end of the hall, trailing wisps of light. Then it hovered in front of the door there, waiting for her to catch up.

She had to force herself not to hurry. Because hurrying meant mistakes, and she couldn't afford to make any. These fuckers were wily, and they were mean, and if they couldn't hurt her by tricking her, she knew they'd do it by hurting Seth. So, careful was the name of the game. Cautious. With liberal use of the watch on her wrist, which she'd enchanted to detect threats.

If it buzzed, watch out.

If it stayed quiet, all was well.

Or as well as could be while she hunted a bunch of deranged monsters. Because even with all the protection she was covered in, and the weapons she'd brought along, she knew that was what she was doing. And it was absolutely terrifying on about a million different levels. She had to force herself to creep forward, heart hammering, mouth dry, every part of her shaking.

It seemed to take forever to get to the door at the end of the hall. Then even longer than that to turn the doorknob. Her hand was sweating so much it kept sliding off. She had to wipe it on her jeans and take some calming breaths and think of Seth's sweet face before she could manage.

And finally, finally it gave. The door opened.

But she kind of wished it hadn't.

Because nothing on this earth could have prepared her for what she found beyond. She almost yelled in horror, despite how steely and tough she had wanted to seem. And she only caught herself by remembering that this wasn't real. It wasn't actually the auditorium from high school, appearing exactly as it had when she'd last seen it. It was just an illusion, of a kind so powerful she knew the Jerks could never have created it.

It was the room itself that had done this, quite clearly. She could feel it humming through her whole body—the sense that something in here knew exactly what you were most afraid of. It knew, and then it simply recreated whatever that was, right down to the last letter. And god that last letter was good.

There were banners on the walls yelling about a spring fling. One of the stage spotlights was flickering, just like it had back then. Hell, the magic here had even filled the rows of foldout chairs. A bunch of disturbingly uncanny approximations sat there, staring at the stage.

And every one of them turned to look at her when she stepped into the room.

Waiting, she thought, to laugh at her again.

She almost turned and fled. But then she remembered: they weren't real. And even if they had been, they had no power over her anymore. Truthfully, she was sorry she had ever let them have power over her at all. It seemed so foolish now, so small, like something another person entirely had been bothered about.

Though it surprised her when that thought seemed to make them flicker a little. They took on a faded sheen. And it got stronger, the more she let the idea sink in. I am not that girl anymore, and all of you were never anything to her anyway, she told herself. Until somehow, there was not a single face left. Just chairs, the stage.

Jason sat on the edge of it, swinging his legs, like this was all such a blast. "You figured us out. Seems you're not as silly as I took you for," he said in that snotty voice of his. "Still, it was pretty foolish of you to come here at all. I mean, what do you think you're gonna do? Rescue your little boyfriend? When there are ten of us and only one of you?"

Yes , she wanted to snarl. I'm gonna demolish every last one of you . But she stayed calm. She shrugged. "Ten, huh? Thought you'd have more," she said, and watched his face crease into unabashed fury, in response.

"It's enough to stop you from ambushing us again,"

"Oh, so that's what happened last time. I just played dirty."

"You fucking know you did, you little bitch. Using that potion."

"You mean the one I can also use to make any of the wolves you've recruited—but who don't really have anything against me—feel a lot better than they currently do?" she said. Then she let that hang in the air for a second, before continuing in the same conversational way. "Because you know, I'm guessing that's why they joined you. You promised them a witch you can bend to your will, and force into helping them. But see the thing is, Jay, I don't need to be forced. If they want to leave you now and come to the little sanctuary I'm setting up, I'd be only too happy to fix them."

There, she thought. Though truthfully, she didn't expect her ploy to work well. It had seemed like a long shot, back when she had dreamt it up. So it was a shock when someone popped up from their hiding place behind the piano in the corner.

"Wait," he said. "You didn't tell us she would seriously just help us."

And that seemed to incense Jason enough to get him on his feet. "Because she's fucking lying. Shut up, Pete, and sit your ass down," he snarled.

But Pete did not. He glanced from Jay to her and back again. Then dashed for the door. Followed by four others, scrambling after him. Including, of all people, fucking Tyler .

"You goddamn cowardly little punk," Jay hollered after him.

But it made no difference. He was gone.

Which was good, it was very good, because it meant the first part of her plan had worked. Now she was down to a handful of wolves—and the ones that were left were probably going to panic soon, if Jay was any indication. He paced angrily, and after a moment, gestured to something she couldn't see behind the curtains that lined the wings offstage.

The place where they hid when they did what they did to me , she thought, just as Jordan dragged Seth out on stage. Her Seth, all tied up and bloody and dazed. Like they'd been beating him. Like he barely even knew what was going on.

And okay, yeah, that was a good ploy. It almost distracted her. She took a step forward, heart in mouth, completely unaware of any threat that might come at her from the sides or from behind. But the thing was—distractions didn't matter. It made no difference that her attention was elsewhere.

A wolf leapt at her from the left, and the weapon she had in her right hand—a rolling pin bound to her wrist with a leather shoelace—jerked upward of its own accord, raising her arm with it. Then it came down so hard on the open maw of that lunging wolf, she saw teeth spiral out from the point of contact. She felt the crunch of the blow all the way up her arm. Bones snapped, blood spattered finely over the seats behind them. Then it just landed at her feet in a heap.

Unconscious, she knew, without even looking.

Though she looked anyway. She calmly eyed the crumpled, furry mess.

Before tightening her grip on the rolling pins she had attached to both wrists. The ones she'd heavily dosed with Make Nice just before coming here. The ones that protected her, no matter what. And then she flicked her gaze toward an open-mouthed Jason.

"You didn't really think that would work against a witch, did you?" she said.

But clearly he did, because he tried it again. "Get her," he yelled, at which point several things happened all at once. Seth became sensible enough to understand what was happening and tried to get up. Several full-blown wolves sprang out from what felt like every corner of the room. And the rolling pins did what she had primed them to do.

Only they did it in a way she had never imagined in a million years when she'd done this.

She had assumed they would just block anything incoming. But apparently, that wasn't the only way the rolling pins interpreted their mandate to defend her. They also decided that if two wolves leapt at her at the same time, the best approach was not to try to smack them both.

It was to get her out of their path.

And they did it by dragging her backward. They snapped her arms behind her and yanked. Then she simply went where they moved her. She wound up five feet from where she had been before, staring breathlessly as those two wolves just smashed into each other. They joined the tally of crumpled unconscious heaps of fur.

Astonishing, she thought. But it got even more so, when the pins seemed to realize she was still in danger. Because as soon as they did, one of them hooked itself under the arm of the nearest chair. And somehow, impossibly, incredibly it hauled her off her feet .

She performed an honest-to-god cartwheel, a real cartwheel.

Despite never having done a cartwheel in her life. Then before she could catch her breath, or wonder if she'd wrenched her own arms out of their sockets, the weapon in her other hand took advantage of where she had landed—on a chair that was beyond some beast's claws and teeth—and smacked it across the back. She heard the bones of a shoulder blade crack.

Followed by a howl as another wolf crumpled.

But the magic didn't stop there. It didn't wait for her to catch her breath. It turned her, so she could hit a wolf coming at her from the left. Then again when another one came at her from the front. Back and forth, until it felt as if she was constantly moving.

And in ways she hadn't known she could move. She was maneuvered into jumps she wasn't capable of, over wolves so large and terrifying she would never have attempted such a feat on her own. She blocked blows she barely saw coming, whacked chairs into attackers before she even understood they were there.

And best and most incredibly of all: when three wolves regrouped and came at her simultaneously, there was no leaping, no evading. The pins just somehow twirled her. They briefly turned her into a spinning top, outstretched arms hitting everything as she spun. And when they did she couldn't help it.

Despite the terrifying circumstances, despite how horrible this all was, it just happened. She felt herself whirling so fast her feet actually left the floor—and she laughed . She laughed with pure amazement and delight, face turned up to the ceiling of the auditorium. Like it was the sky, like it was the stars above her, like this wasn't the stifling place that had haunted her memories for a decade.

It was something else. It gave her back her strength.

The whole situation did, she thought, as the spinning slowed, and the pins let her sink back down onto her feet. Because now she could survey the absolute havoc she had wrought, and oh, it was incredible. It was impossible. There were whole heaps of wolves lying all around her. Others fleeing at the sight of what she could do.

Then on the stage, Seth, still on his knees. Staring at her across the auditorium, with so much awe and astonishment and gratitude in his eyes that she wasn't sure how she could ever have doubted his feelings. They were as clear as glass, as air, as anything had ever been to her. She would always know it now.

He belongs to me, and I belong to him , she thought.

Then stalked forward to take out the one last obstacle between them.

Bane of her life. Ruiner of everything. And now just this: some little dipshit, who whimpered "No no no" the second she pointed a rolling pin at him. "You're next," she told him firmly, fiercely, as she climbed onto the stage. Then watched him back away so fast he fumbled over his own feet. He wound up on his ass, scooting away like a kid who'd seen a spider.

"Oh what's the matter, bro? Is it not so fun when you do it to someone who isn't weaker than you?" she asked, as he went. And had the satisfaction of seeing his face crease with bitterness and guilt.

Before he scrambled for a comeback. "You weren't even weak in high school. Look what you did to us," he spat. But there was no conviction in it.

"I didn't do anything to you, you lying little weasel."

"Oh, so being the reason we turned into this doesn't count?"

"You can't possibly be claiming that I turned you into assholes," she said, laughing. Though she didn't like the sly look on his face. Or the sound of protest Seth made from behind the gag. The one he tried to get off, as Jay grinned even wider.

He showed his fangs, sharper and meaner than Seth's. "No, I'm not claiming you made us assholes. I'm claiming you made us werewolves ," he said, and then clearly waited for her face to fall before he continued. "Oh no, did your little boyfriend not tell you? Well, I'm not surprised. I mean, who wants to confess that he got turned into a wolf by his best buddy, and then mauled a bunch of kids for barely any reason at all? We just wanted to stop by and say sorry to the girl we pulled a mean prank on. And look what he did."

He lifted his shirt, on the last word.

Showed her a scar, different from any of Seth's.

This one, quite clearly, had been made by a set of sharp teeth. She could see each separate indentation, obvious enough that you could never mistake it for anything else.

Still, for a second she tried to deny it. She thought of a dozen ways that might have happened, each more plausible than the last. Just as Seth got free of that damned gag and stormed out things she didn't know how to take.

"You deserved it, you lying fuck, don't act like you didn't. Don't act like you were just gonna say sorry, because we all know you weren't. You were gonna keep making her life hell, so I did what I had to do. I put you down, and considering this shit show, I was right to do it. Setting a pack of wolves on her—I swear to god when I get my strength back I'm gonna make the night I savaged the fuck out of you look like a goddamn tea party. And this time? I'm gonna do it all on purpose ," he snarled. Like he was doing something good.

But instead it just confirmed her worst fears.

She was the one who had turned Seth into what he was.

Even though the idea seemed impossible, it seemed ridiculous. I wasn't even a witch then , she tried to protest in her head. It was afterward. It was after all of it that I started baking with Gram . But as soon as she did, she felt the witch part of her laugh.

Wrong , it said. Wrong wrong wrong .

And she saw the series of events in her mind's eye. The first moment her powers had manifested. Like Carrie, at the prom. Standing there with her cake—her own creation—smeared down her front and all over her hands. Feeling betrayed and helpless and humiliated. But also galvanized. Like if she really wanted to, she could make them all stop laughing.

And she hadn't. But she had done something else. She could see it now, clearly. Her running from the building; Seth running after her. The way he had called her name, how she had turned in a fury. Then she'd shoved him away, and as she had she'd called him something.

You're a fucking beast, Seth Brubaker, she'd yelled.

And apparently that was all it had taken. Just a word she hadn't meant literally, and a potion on her palms that she hadn't even known she'd concocted. Then all of this had followed one event after another, until finally here they were. With Seth looking at her, realization dawning about what he'd accidentally confessed. And her standing there, astonished and crestfallen, over what that confession meant.

While in the background Jay sniveled and whined and swore he wouldn't hurt them again.

Though that, at least, was something she could make sure of.

"You won't be able to," she said to him. "Because you are made of my magic, once removed, and I know it now, so I can command you. And I do so now. You and yours may never lift a hand against me or mine again, Jason Kirkpatrick. I bind you to it, by the weight of the spell I cast against your maker."

And then somehow, above them, thunder rumbled again.

And she knew it was done. She knew it was all over.