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“What in the hell is happening?” Giles demands as Jonas and I return to the others. “I saw them. Their eyes—”
“I wasn’t anticipating this,” I interrupt and drag my hand down my face. “But it is here.”
“How?” Breena demands. “How can that be? And what in the hell are we supposed to do now? We need the people you and Jonas just trapped in that building.”
“I warded them inside a barrier spell so they’re safe,” I reply, my mind whirling.
“We can do this,” Lorelei says, her voice perfectly calm as she reaches out for me and gently touches my arm. “We can do this, Xander. They’re safe in there. Is it the whole coven, Jonas?”
“Yes. I don’t know how it trapped them and got them in there, but it looks like it’s everyone.”
“Then they’re safe,” Lucy agrees. “And Lorelei’s right. We have the spell; we have the tools. We will lift this curse tonight.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod and look back at my coven. Most of them are smiling. Nodding.
They’re ready.
“Where do we go?” I ask Breena.
She closes her eyes and then turns to Jonas. “Where is the circle you stood around to cast the curse in the first place? With the fire?”
“Here.”
Jonas motions for us to follow him, and we hurry behind him. We reach a large fire pit rimmed with boulders the size of small dogs. He flicks his wrist, and the flames leap to life.
“This is it,” Breena breathes, her eyes big and full of wonder. “This is the scene from the tapestry.”
I take a moment to look around and see that she’s right.
“Did someone bring the tapestry with them?” I ask as I notice it’s already staked in the ground right near the fire.
“It came itself,” Percy says, catching my attention.
“What do you mean?”
“It has its own energy now,” my grandmother adds with a nod. “Can’t you feel it? That’s a powerful work of art.”
“This is wild,” Giles says with a grin. But then he looks over my shoulder, and his smile falls. “I hate to be the one who constantly asks questions like this, but who the fuck is that?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Lorelei
We turn in the direction that Giles is pointing and see a man walking our way, striding quickly, wearing a simple brown cloak that almost hits his ankles. His hair is dark, and he has a beard.
But it’s his eyes that have me on guard and widening my stance.
“Robert,” Jonas says with a frown, stepping forward. “You weren’t with the others in the tavern?”
“No,” the man says, and then a smile spreads over his deceptively handsome face. Suddenly, I know without a doubt that this is the entity who’s been fucking with us. The one who has been killing for centuries.
The one who murdered Agatha and tried to kill Breena. Who stood over me in my house and would have ended my life, too.
The one who possessed and tortured the love of my life just for the thrill of it.
“Oh, shit,” Giles whispers.
“We haven’t met,” Xander says as he steps toward Robert, and I want to reach out and pull him back.
Be careful, I tell him silently. You know exactly who this is.
His only response is a slight nod.
“Robert,” Jonas continues, “why are you not with your wife? Rebecca is in the tavern.”
“Of course, she is. I put her there. I put them all there, and then you came along. You would dare to lock me out?”
He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth as he slowly paces back and forth on the other side of the fire from where our coven stands. Everyone is on guard. Even Nera, who hasn’t left Lucy’s side—and won’t—is crouched, the hair on his back raised.
Even without looking around, I know that it’s the same for the other animals who crossed with us.
“I never intended to reveal my identity to you,” Robert continues. He’s speaking pleasantly as if we’re all the best of friends. “My intention was to kill those in the tavern and then come find all of you on Samhain, but now I have all of you here in Hallows End, and you’ve saved me the trouble. How convenient.”
“You were under the curse, along with everyone else,” Jonas says.
“I let you believe that.” Robert smiles at Jonas. “You really were a great leader, Jonas. You did everything right. Sure, you didn’t plan on casting all your friends into a three-hundred-year purgatory, but you did the best you could with what you had. You know, maybe it’s for the best that you know it’s me. I have to tell you, it’s been a boring three hundred years.”
“You speak in modern English,” I say, unable to keep the remark in.
“Sure. Just like Jonas here, I’ve been able to move back and forth. Well, part of me has. My body stayed here, but my consciousness can move.”
