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Of course my first thought was to work some Blood magic. Now that I knew it was my birthright, I felt perfectly at ease using it. But Winifred Rattcliff must have been standing behind Avery and me listening for some time—though how she had snuck up on us without Emma sounding the alarm, I had no idea. Anyway, she seemed to know all about my magical methods.
“Quick, get the bit in her teeth and gag her,” she exclaimed, pointing at me and directing Nancy and her friends. “She mustn’t be allowed to bite herself and draw blood!”
Before I knew what was happening, a bite guard like something a football player would wear was shoved between my teeth and taped securely in place with a strip of silver duct tape which Nancy slapped across my mouth.
“There you go, you little no-talent bitch!” she hissed in my face. “Let’s see you try to work spells now!”
I wanted to point out that if I really had no magical talent, she wouldn’t have to bother gagging me. But of course I couldn’t. And anyway, I was too involved in trying to find another way to make myself bleed.
I reached for the key but Winifred yanked it off, pulling the black chain from around my neck before I could even touch it.
“I’ll take that, thank you!” she snapped. “I don’t know how you found it since I thought I had disposed of it pretty thoroughly, but I’ll keep it safe now.” She looked at me triumphantly.
I gasped behind the gag. How had she managed to get the necklace off when I had been unable to do a damn thing to remove it in over a week?
“You’re wondering how I’m able to remove it?” Winifred guessed, holding the key by its chain and swinging it in front of me like a pendulum. “Well who do you think spelled it in the first place, my dear little Latimer? It and its counterpart.”
I knew she was talking about the lock around Griffin’s throat and I felt a sudden spasm of panic. How would he ever be free of the lock now that Winifred had taken away the key? I hadn’t been able to unlock him the night before but I’d had an idea if we were very careful—maybe if I cut for him several times to drive away the terrible thirst that tormented him and we stockpiled a bunch of blood bags to have by him just in case it came back—we could dare to use the key to open the lock and let him go. But now, how could I possibly do that?
Should have done it last night—should have risked it! I thought to myself frantically. But Griffin hadn’t wanted to.
“Just let me hold you, little witch,” he’d said when I suggested it. “Let us enjoy being together.”
I felt the same way I imagined Corinne must have felt when she was parted from her Nocturne lover and thought that they should have Blood-Bonded when they had the opportunity. But now it was too late and I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to free Griffin again.
As though to reinforce my hopeless thoughts, Winifred Rattcliff put the black key with its winking Blood Stones neatly into the pocket of her puce jacket and patted it, smirking at me the whole time.
Honestly, she had no idea what colors looked good on her. Not that puce looks good on anyone.
She saw me watching her and her face twisted into a sneer.
“Did you find Corinne’s grimoire fascinating reading?” she asked me, knowing full well I couldn’t answer. “I’m so glad you finally took the initiative to come look at it—I thought I’d never get you in here after you refused to move in with the Sisters, as you should have.”
My eyes widened as I stared at her. So the grimoire had been a kind of trap. She had wanted me to read it—probably to make certain that the prophesy would appear for me!
Winifred Rattcliff seemed able to read my mind—or maybe she could just read my face.
“Oh yes—I wanted you to read it,” she said, nodding at my ancestor’s book. “It was the only way to be sure you were the one. And since you are, I’m afraid you’ll have to be disposed of.” She glared at me. “You never should have come to Nocturne Academy. If you’d stayed in the Norm world, where I persuaded your mother you belonged, you wouldn’t have to die now. A pity, isn’t it?”
She shrugged as though my death was a minor inconvenience that was simply unavoidable and then turned to her daughter.
“Now then,” she told Nancy and the Weird Sisters. “Let’s get these two and their little Norm friends over to the Hallowed Glade. We have much to do before dawn.”
As they marched us downstairs—apparently the senior witch’s spell allowed Avery’s legs to move, though the rest of him remained frozen—I managed to catch his eyes.
