“Mamma mia,” I drawl, shoving my hands in my pockets. “I leave you alone for a minute and you have fallen apart.”
She groans, lifting her head from her knees. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. I need to do more research.”
“Nonsense.” I reach for her hand and pull her to her feet. “You need to rest.” Like this, she is a few inches taller than me. I enjoy the vantage point, the way her hair swings forward, like curtains closing around us, as her arms rest comfortably around my neck.
“No, I need to focus on memorizing the spellwork Leo gave me?—”
I capture her mouth with mine, looping my arms around her waist and easing her down beside me, letting her body slide against mine. She slackens in my arms, fingers curling into thefront of my jacket. When I pull away, I keep my forehead pressed to hers.
“Listen to me,” I whisper against her cool, damp skin. “In twenty-four hours, we will be free. Your mother’s blood debt will be resolved and her soul will be at peace. That pressure in your chest will dissolve. You’ll sleep here, with me, safe and sound every night.”
“What about you?” she asks, tightening her grip on me. “What will happen to you?
“Allora…” I wrap her in my arms, pull her closer still. “I will never have to make another mojito again. I will fall asleep with my head on a Kookoomi pillowcase.
She swats at me, a small laugh bubbling out of her. “Kuromi, Orfeo. Her name is Kuromi.”
“I have already learned English, is that not enough? Why do you insist I also learn Japanese?”
Her laughter dissipates, but she clings to me. I can feel her heart hammering against my chest. I can feel the dread that gongs inside her working its way through me, as well. “What if someone gets hurt because of me? What if I forget the spell when I’m with Alfo? What if I trip or get lost in the?—”
“Hey.” I take her face in my hands. “This is not an exam, Diantha. It is simply destiny.”
The next evening, as the final dredges of sunlight slip out of view, we pile into the back of an unmarked van and take a country road to the far side of the U of E campus. We ride mostly in tense silence.
Diantha only tears her eyes away from the dull, sparse trees and dark sky to say, “I can’t believe Evie hasn’t texted me.”
I squeeze her hand, but I know this is no help. We’re both thinking it: something has happened to the sweet kitchen witch. It’s impossible to say what the rest of tonight will bring, but it is chilling to think perhaps we’ve already had our first casualty.
Leo parks the car on a gravel road hidden by fallen trees and overgrown brambles, and we follow a muddy desire line to a wide, circular clearing.
This exact forest floor is where I’ve watched others kneel before Alfo and take their oath of servitude. I’ve also watched some refuse. I wonder: if I were to dig the toe of my shoes into the dirt, would I find their bones?
As the sun dips below the hills and dispenses its last shocks of orange light, we form a circle in the clearing. To my left, Misha shifts from foot to foot in her satin-lined cloak, hood drawn down over her face to protect her from the sun. A silver sickle hangs in her gloved hand at her side. Next to her, Leo chews his lip, an immovable wall of muscle in his bomber jacket and ridiculously white shoes. His pistol is visible in its holster at his waist, loaded undoubtedly with pure silver bullets.
At my side, Diantha stands stock still in her red dress, a heavy wool jacket draped over her shoulders. Beautiful and fragile. Still a human woman. Her anxiety flutters deep inside my stomach, and I know she feels it one hundred times worse.
Leo checks his wristwatch. “They should be here in a moment.”
I reach for Diantha’s hand. Her palm is clammy, her fingers tremble between mine. “You’re certain they know where to meet us?” she asks, her voice straining under the weight of fear.
“They’re tracking your scent.” Leo lifts his eyes to meet her gaze. “Try to keep your vomit down until after the ceremony.”
Diantha cracks a smile. “That obvious?”
“You’re green, my love.” Misha gives her a consolatory look.
Suddenly, there’s rustling in the distant trees. At once, all of our heads whip around. Everything in my chest tightens, and I do not know if it’s my emotions or Diantha’s.
Heavy footfall echoes, along with branches crunching, twigs snapping.
Then, they break through the trees.
There he is.Davìd.
Small and lithe with his long, crooked nose. Tight black curls and preternaturally green eyes that glisten like seaglass in his light-brown face.
I break from the circle and, without thinking, I throw my arms around him.
