Chapter 18

Under the dim lights of the museum corridor, I'm pacing back and forth outside Mack's room like a spare part. I slipped out while they were still discussing the scepter. And no one noticed.

I've been sitting, knees tucked up under my chin, trying to stop my thoughts from spiralling, ever since. When I hear Mack scream, I look up. I want to stand, dart to the door, help somehow.

But what use would I be?

I plug my hands over my ears and try to block it out. The elixir was working, and now it's clearly not, and that means we're back to the possibility that we might lose Mack and Snow altogether.

"Then hurry!" Nova yells, her voice carrying through the walls.

The door swings back, and Miranda rushes out. At first, her expression is panicked, but then she stops, glances back, and brushes down her skirt. She straightens her blouse, and tilts her head from side to side.

I study her closely.

I've always felt a little uneasy around her, but suddenly there is something else setting the hairs at the base of my skull on edge.

Slowly, she saunters down the hall as if she's in no rush at all. I look back at the door. I can hear Mack writhing in pain, and Nova crying, and Snow growling.

Instead of heading back toward her quarters, where she's been working on the elixir, she goes in the opposite direction. Toward the museum's entrance.

I follow her, something in my gut telling me to find out where she's going.

I asked Tanner about her before — about whether she made him uncomfortable — but he simply shook his head, shrugged, and said he had no idea what I was talking about.

He's the empath; he should know. But I still feel like he's missing something.

The way she talks, and moves, and reacts to things; it's not quite… normal. And now this?

I shift quickly, instinct telling me I should be a wolf right now not a human. In the shadows, I creep through the museum, following the witch's scent.

She is leaving. She's supposed to be fixing Mack, and she's leaving? At this time of night?

I follow her.

She heads for the main doors, pulls them open, grabs a coat from the hooks by the doors, and wraps it tightly around her. She pulls up the hood, obscuring her silver hair from the glean of the moonlight, and scurries down the steps.

I slip through the door before it closes, and stay a few paces behind her in the shadows.

This, I'm good at. Stalking, tracking, not being seen.

In fact, being invisible has become my superpower lately.

We head in the opposite direction from the one the others took. I can smell them in the air; Kole, Lucien, and Kim. They ploughed through the market square, through the busiest parts of the city. But Miranda is going the other way. Out of town.

She passes the bus station that I saw when I first arrived.

The same homeless man is sitting exactly where he was before. He spots me and waves. He seems pleased to see me. I ignore him, and hope he hasn't drawn attention to me.

Ahead, Miranda is moving far more quickly than I'd expect for a woman her age.

She crosses the green, sticking to the grass and the shadow of the bushes instead of the main path. I do the same.

Although there are few people around at this time of night — the people of the city know better than that, even if they pretend not to — the odd student can be found staggering home from a party. Straying into the light of the moon.

I can't be seen.

Snow might have been able to pass for a dog. But I can't.

Eventually, we reach a semi-circle of houses. Tall townhouses that look like they belong to professors or wealthy artists. They are positioned in a curve, around a neat lawn, with children's play equipment in the center.

Miranda heads for the first building, but instead of ascending the steps, she takes another set down. I pad over gently and peer through the black railings. At the bottom of the steps, there is another door. A basement that has been turned into an apartment, with a large window that must let in barely any daylight because all it opens onto is the concrete steps.

She knocks on the door, and puts her hands into her pockets while she waits for someone to answer.

My breath puffs out in small clouds. It's freezing, but she doesn't seem to feel it.

The door opens. I can't see who's on the other side. But I can hear them.

My ears twitch.

"Do you have it?" she asks.

"I have it," the figure replies.

"And you're sure it'll work? You know who she is. You know what she is. If I'm going to immobilise her, it needs to be your best."

"It'll work," the figure snaps. "And in return…"

"In return, you'll get your vial of blood. Don't worry about that." Miranda's tone is snappy, impatient. She snatches something from an outstretched hand. I notice a tattoo on the figure's knuckles.

"Miranda…" The figure says darkly. "It's a dangerous game you're playing, you know that? She took down the Shadow King. Do you really think?—"

He's talking about Nova. What the…?

I jolt backwards. Miranda's jaw is stretching like she's about to shift. Her head jerks from side to side. Then something that looks like tentacles springs from her mouth. Tentacles with teeth. They grab hold of the figure and pull him into the light.

He is old. He has gray hair and a wisened face. His eyes bulge as the tentacles tighten around his throat. Miranda's jaw is hanging open. Her eyes are pitch black. She tilts her head and blinks strangely.

Fuck.

She's not human, not a witch, not… Miranda.

She is something else.

"You're not…" The man's eyes bulge in his skull, widening. "What the fuck did you do to her? What are you?"

The monster inside Miranda hisses, then the teeth on its large black tentacles sink into his neck. Blood drips down his throat. His eyes roll back.

The tentacles loosen and drop him to the floor. He is still breathing. Miranda's jaw closes. She brushes down her skirt and tilts her head from side to side.

That's it. That's what I saw… her reactions haven't felt like her reactions because she's not herself. She's something else. A demon, or a monster. But not a witch.

I dart back, staying low and out of sight.

I watch her cross the green, and when I see her in the distance crossing back toward the bus station, I hurry down the steps then shift back into human form.

The man on the floor blinks up at me. "Werewolf," he mutters.

I tuck my hands under his arms and drag him back inside. Lifting him into a chair, I run through the living room to a small galley kitchen and grab a dish cloth. I press it to the wounds on his neck. He breathes out slowly and gestures to a bottle of vodka on the sideboard. I pass it to him and he takes a deep swig. "First aid kit, under the stairs," he mutters.

I fetch it, and hand it to him. He flicks it open, drinks down a vial of what looks like blood, then sighs.

When he removes the cloth, the wounds are healed.

He leans forward onto his knees. "Thank you," he says, looking me up and down. "Didn't think I'd be saved by a wolf. But who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

"First, I have a question for you." I stand in front of him, arms folded. "What the fuck was that? And what did it do to Miranda?"

* * *

I cross the green, following Miranda's scent back toward the museum. If I can even call her Miranda anymore. Not her… it. Not a person. Not a human, not a witch.

The old man's words circle in my head.

When did this happen? How long has she been like this?

I need to get back to Nova. I need to get back to her now.

Crossing past the bus station, I glance over toward the homeless man. He is sleeping, slumped to his side.

I pause. Something isn't right. I creep over to him and sniff gently.

He's not sleeping.

He's dead. Unlike the old man, she finished him off. Blood leaks from his neck. Tiny little holes, like pinpricks, flecked all over his dirt stained skin.

I run before anyone can see me and assume it was a wolf that did it. No wolf could do that, but the people who live here don't pride themselves on understanding the supernatural world that surrounds them.

They pride themselves on ignorance.

As if they can will themselves to be above us.

Before I reach the museum, Miranda's scent changes direction. She has gone toward the market square. Good. That gives me chance to get to Nova.

I race up the steps and shift back, pull open the door, race through the museum, past Thornfield's office to Mack's room.

When I push open the door, Nova is crying. She's sitting in the armchair by the fire sobbing. Snow is next to her, head resting near her feet, his breath shallow.

Tanner is mopping Mack's brow with something that looks like water but smells different.

Nova looks up at me, and I rush over to her, pulling her into my arms. "He's getting worse. Have you seen Miranda? What's happening with the elixir? She should have finished it by now."

I swallow hard. How can I tell her?

She sees it in my eyes instantly; that I'm hiding something from her.

I glance over at Mack.

"What is it?" Nova's tone changes. Her eyes start to dry. Sparks simmer on her skin. "What is it, Sam?"

She stands up slowly, then puts her hands on her hips, staring at me.

Tanner looks over.

Mack groans, and his eyes flutter, but he doesn't wake up.

"It was all a lie…" I scrape my hands through my hair and breathe out heavily.

"What was?" Nova's cheeks flush, her eyes narrow.

"Miranda's the one who stole the scepter."

There is a long moment of silence. Snow tilts his head and blinks up at me.

"Sam… that's ridiculous." Tanner laughs, but even as he does, he studies my face and his expression drops. "She wouldn't…"

"No, she wouldn't. But she's not herself. She's something else." I shake my arms, trying to jolt the pieces into some kind of sensible order so I can explain to them what I saw.

When I reach the part where I dragged the old man, Yuri, back into his house, Nova begins to pace. "What is she? Why would she…?"

"Did he tell you anything? Did he tell you she took the scepter?"

I nod. "He's pretty scared now he knows she's not really Miranda. He thought he was doing her a favor in return for some of Nova's blood?—"

"Nova's Blood?" Tanner's eyes flash. The water in the jug on the beside table shudders.

I shake my head. I'm not explaining it properly or in the right order. "She told him she was going to lure Nova here. She needed something from him. A gem stone that will help her cast a spell to immobilise Nova. He's a black market dealer. He's been looking for months. She's had it planned ever since Nova won the fight against the Shadow King."

"She stole the scepter to get us to come here?" Nova asks, her mood changing again, her shoulders drooping as she sits back in the armchair.

"She didn't tell him that, but it fits. Doesn't it? The AMA didn't steal it. Someone had to get in here, right under Lucien's nose, and take it. And didn't anyone think their username for the auction was a little on the nose?"

Nova inhales sharply as if someone has just thrust a knife into her chest. "The elixir. If she stole the scepter…" She turns to look at Mack. She slams her hand over her mouth. "She hasn't been trying to help him at all."

I shake my head. Guilt, and dread, and fear, and grief swirl in my stomach like acid and ice. "There is no elixir. Yuri laughed when I mentioned it. She's been keeping us hanging while he worked his contacts for the gemstone."

"There is no elixir?" Tanner sits down hard on the bed that was Kim's. He leans forward and rubs his palms over his face, sighing. "There is no elixir."

"But that means…" Nova picks up her phone and waves it. "The book pages Lucien sent me are useless. I've been scouring them for the last two hours. There's nothing… all they say is that it's impossible for a shifter and his animal counterpart to live separately. That's it. There is no way to put them back together. No way to reunite them." She is panicking. I can see it rising in her body. Sparks fly harder. Her wings fly free, the biggest I've ever seen them, except this time they're almost white.

She whirls around, roaring at the top of her voice.

The edge of the rug catches light and Snow puts a large paw over it.

Slowly, he hauls himself to his feet and walks over to her. He is so close to her wings I'm surprised his fur isn't getting singed. I stand back, shielding my eyes from her brightness.

Tanner calls to her, but can't get close enough.

Snow nuzzles her hand. She looks down at him. The wings disappear, and she wraps her arms around his large neck, sobbing as she clings onto him.

Snow doesn't move, just stands, allowing her to cry. He purrs a little, as if he's telling her everything is going to be okay. "I can't lose you," she says. "That's not how it was supposed to be."

She looks up at me, and the hurt in her eyes brings tears to mine, too.

"The bad stuff was supposed to be over. It was supposed to be the six of us. Happy. Together." She looks over at the bed. Mack shifts uncomfortably, his eyes still closed.

A sob breaks from Nova's lips, and she runs from the room.

The door clatters closed. Tanner moves to follow her, but I shake my head. "Stay with Mack. He needs you. I'll make sure she's alright."

Tanner is bracing his hands on his knees. He meets my eyes. "Sam, if she loses Mack, she won't ever be alright again."

I'm at the door. I turn the handle. "I don't think we can save him," I mutter.

A sharp inhale of breath tells me Tanner is crying now too. "If what you said is true," he breathes, "neither do I."