Page 112

Esther had always been impressed by August’s little flashes of magic. The way he casually wove it into his every day. His magic was small: flicking the lights on or off, locking the door when they nearly forgot, opening a window when it got warm. Little things that required a bit of pressure, but the way he used them was natural and domestic. She’d sensed Meg and Gwen were stronger when she’d first met them—their magic originating in their bones and leaking from them like it was too big to keep in without constant vigilance—but nothing they’d done so far prepared her for when Meg bowed her head and held out her open palms.

The entire room of debris trembled. It was the same kind of magic August used, the manipulation of pressure, but instead of flicking on a light switch, her fingers contracted into claws and sweat formed on her forehead as she pulled everything—the plaster, the pillars, a tub, and several more chairs—up from the floor until the only thing left below, like a puppet with its strings snipped, lay Ashley.

Her body was coated in blood and plaster, and her gold hair was matted and covering her face, but it was her.

August stepped like he’d run to her, but Gwen grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

Meg dropped the still floating rubbish into the space he’d recently occupied. The floor vibrated beneath Esther’s fingers as it settled in its new place.

Esther needed to get up. She needed to see Ashley, to know if she was breathing. The pure volume of stuff Meg had pulled off her, not to mention the work August had done by hand, was beyond what any human could handle.

But Ashley was a vampire. Sure, she was dying from some faulty witches’ brew, but vampires couldn’t be crushed to death. Could they?

Esther went to stand, but her leg firmly refused to hold her weight. Her arms were intact, so she army-crawled her way across the floor, paying no mind to Uther, who fussed over her the entire way.

August was there by the time Esther made it and had brushed Ashley’s hair from her face, his hands now coated in blood and his wrist pressed to her lips. “Ashley, I’m so sorry. I was wrong and you were right, okay?” His shoulders shook and tears dripped down his face. “I overstepped, but you can’t…you can’t leave. Who’s going to threaten to drown me every time I’m a crappy friend?” He shoved his wrist at her face. “Drink, already.”

Uther dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around August, gently pulling him back into his lap and cradling August’s head to Uther’s shoulder.

“Ashley.” Esther tucked two fingers under Ashley’s chin and checked for a pulse. She sighed with relief when she found one. “She’s not dead.”

August’s head shot up. “What do you mean she’s not dead?”

Her eyes watered with relief, clearing tracks down her chalky cheeks. “She still has a pulse.”

“A pulse?” His hand shot to Ashley’s neck, tracing around Esther’s fingers until he found the spot where a gentle but steady beat ticked under Ashley’s chin. “It worked?”

“What do you mean…” Realization dawned on her.

Ashley shouldn’t have a pulse. She was a vampire. Or she had been?

Esther took in the rest of Ashley’s body. Nothing seemed out of place, but a large shard of wood pierced the side of Ashley’s abdomen. Blood coursed from the wound and pooled around her middle.

Ashley was alive and bleeding out in front of them.

“Gwen!” called August. “Gwen, get over here.”

The witch pranced over, her green skirts flaring prettily as she dropped to the floor beside them.

“Help her,” August said.

Gwen shook her head, but her face showed remorse. “I don’t work with humans.”

“Your power is life. Just stop the bleeding. That’s all we need. Turn her into freaking Poison Ivy, and we’ll drop her off in the city to haunt Batman. I don’t even care. I just can’t let her die.”

41

Ashley

The first thing Ashley noticed was a gentle burning in her side. The sensation morphed into a slicing pain as something was tugged from her. She hissed instinctively, but her fangs still wouldn’t descend.

“Ashley?”

Gentle fingers touched her cheek, and she turned her face, urging the cool touch to soothe the throbbing building in her skull. It felt like a house had fallen on her.

“I think she’s waking up.”

“Esther?” Ashley croaked. She hardly recognized her own voice, her throat was so dry and scratchy. She coughed and tried to pry open her eyes, but they were just as dry.