Page 83 of Wicked Ends

They’re all looking at me now, waiting for my response. I think about the bones I found, the people who have already died. About Jasmine’s sinister song and her promise to consume me next.

“Okay,” I say. “We’re doing this.”

But how we’re doing this, how we take down a witch more powerful than any of us, remains to be seen.

Thirty-Seven

Rose

I sit on my bed, thinking about what is going to happen. What we need to do. Somehow, we have to think of a way to stop Jasmine. The guys are off on their own right now, all of them trying to figure out a plan. I needed some time to myself, but all I’ve been doing is thinking about what I found. My stomach churns every time I picture those bones in Jasmine’s office, those teeth, the grimoire with its horrific illustrations.

Hank croaks from beside me with froggy concern, and I pet his head with my finger. I really hope nothing happens to Hank, if something happens to me. I don’t know where a familiar goes when its witch is dead. Do they just disappear? I can’t even conceive of a world without Hank.

The knock on my door is a welcome interruption from my spiraling.

Drake stands in the hallway. “Can I come in?” He’s so real now he has to walk through open doors like everyone else. No more walking through walls or popping in and out of reality.

“Hey, you.” I step back to let him through, but the look on his face tells me something’s wrong. “What’s going on? Is it Jasmine? Another missing person?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just walks across my small dorm room, stopping at the window to stare out at the grounds. His back is to me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Drake?” I move toward him, but he holds up a hand to stop me.

“Before we do this, before we face Jasmine, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.”

Drake turns to face me, and the torment in his expression makes a lump form in my stomach. “I should have told you a long time ago. But I was a coward.”

“Told me what?” I ask, but part of me doesn’t want to know. Things have been good between us. The way he can touch me now, be with me. The happiness on his face when he realized he could be corporeal.

“I used you, Rose. From the very beginning.”

I sink onto the edge of my bed. “What are you talking about, Drake?”

“The Accord. The blood contract between your family and the Crescent Moon Coven, originally.”

“Yeah, I know all that.”

“I knew how to find it. I always knew.” His voice cracks. “I’ve been waiting for a Smith witch who could break it for decades.”

The room seems to tilt slightly. “What?”

“The last one was in the late sixties. Your cousin, maybe? She wasn’t strong enough. And I couldn’t get her to do it.” Drake’s eyes are pleading now. “But I knew eventually someone from your bloodline would come who could break the Accord. I just had to wait.”

My head spins as I try to piece together what he’s saying.

“I manipulated you into wanting to find it.” He looks away, shame written across his features. “Not for you. For me.”

“Why?” I feel sick. “Why would you do that?”

“Revenge.” Drake’s voice is barely above a whisper. “The Crescent Moon Coven is the reason I’m dead. They murdered me. I wanted to destroy them, to watch their power crumble. And the breaking original blood contract was the key.”

I stand up, needing to move, to process. My hands are shaking.

“So I was a tool in your revenge plot?” The hurt blooms in my chest.

“At first, yes.” Drake takes a step toward me, then stops when I back away. “But then I got to know you, and everything changed. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, Rose. I never planned for that.”