“These experts you’ve been seeing, in supernatural ailments. What do they think this is?”
“They aren’t sure. Every curse is unique and I left in a hurry.”
“Are you going back?”
“Once things are settled here, then yes, I’ll go back. Selah, why did you go into the well?”
“To get the key.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Why would you do that?”
“Because, Jude, that’s where I dropped the key. The key gets us into the crypt, and everything is in the crypt. The portrait. Ezra’s journals. The photographs of Rafe. If we showed these things to Kate and Harper, they’d believe us. And they’d be safer for it.” I stare at the tendrils on his chest. Those terrible, awful tendrils. “The ruby is down there, too. It made that mark go away. What if we weresupposed to keep it? What if it was meant to be some sort of supernatural treatment plan? But the key is gone. I think somebody took it.”
“Selah, what are you talking about?”
“I couldn’t find it. It wasn’t down there. So when I came back up, I drove to St. Fortuna’s. Someone moved the stone slab. The crypt was locked, but someone was down there. What if they took the ruby? What if they’re using it against you? What if that’s why these marks are back?”
Jude takes my elbow and pulls me into a hug, staunching the flow of my escalating panic. But even in his arms, I don’t feel safe. Not with Mistress Bramble’s words echoing in my mind.
What has it’s claws in you, boy?
“I doubt anyone has the key,” he says, his voice a rumble in my ear. “I’m sure you just missed it. It would be pretty hard to find at the bottom of a well. And I feel fine, Selah. I promise you, I feel fine. Once we resolve whatever is going on with Lainey, I’ll go back. I’ll meet with the specialists until we figure this out.”
“Mistress Bramble might know what to do. She comes from a long line of healers.”
Jude tips my face up to his. “It’s going to be okay.”
He runs his thumb along the ridge of my jaw, his eyes searching mine.
For belief.
For forgiveness.
While I’m usually quick to offer both, I don’t know if I believe him and I’m not sure I should forgive him. He’s been lying to me for two weeks.
But then, ever so slowly, as though testing the waters, he comes in for a kiss—so sweet and soft, my body aches. I slide my hand over his chest. His skin is warm. His heart beats firmly against my palm. And for the briefest second, I swear I feel the mark ripple.
I pull back.
He doesn’t seem to notice. He just brushes his lips along my earlobe and murmurs, “I’m going to get something to treat your cut.”
He grabs a hoodie off his bed and slides it over his head.
I watch him go with my heart in my throat and my stomach in my knees. Because I swear, those scorched tendrils over his heart just grew.
22
IT FEEDS AND IT FEEDS
Mistress Bramble lives outside of town south of the cemetery, deep in the forest. By now, I know the route by heart. But this is Jude’s first time, so I act as navigator while he drives. I considered bringing the plant. If Mistress Bramble can really see into the Overlay, it stands to reason she might recognize flora from the Overlay.
But I’m too distracted to bother.
Since seeing those marks on Jude’s chest, I’ve thought of little else. Even my recurring dream—of my mother chased, my mother imprisoned—has been overrun by nightmares of spidery tendrils wrapping around Jude’s neck and squeezing until he can’t breathe.
I’ve become fixated on the missing key and the stone slab at St. Fortuna’s. Someone moved it. Why would they bother, if not to get into the crypt? The question is, did they actually get in?
On top of it all, I’m mad.
