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She clears her throat and adjusts her cloak at the collar.
“Do you feel better now?” she asks him in a clipped voice. “Was it helpful to get out your rage without killing another?”
“Go to hell,” he says, spitting on the floor in front of her, his hair wild across his face.
“Charming,” she comments with a curl of her upper lip. Then she looks at me. “And here we have Katrina.” Then she looks at Brom, and her face visibly softens. “And, of course, we have our dear Abraham.”
“I’m not your anything,” Brom sneers at her.
“Hmmm,” she muses, her eyes flicking over us. “A den of vipers. I can’t say I blame you for all that you’ve been through. Though I must let you know that you have been spared so much.”
“What happened to Daniels?” Crane says, his eyes still flickering with anger. “What happened to Desi and Ms. Choi and Ms. Wiltern? To Vivienne Henry?”
“You’re asking all the wrong questions, Mr. Crane,” she says. “It’s not about what happened to them. It’s about what will happen to you. You, if you don’t put your head down and continue doing what you were hired to do. To teach.”
“And us,” I say to her, pointing at Brom. “What is supposed to happen to us?”
She gives me a tight smile. “You know what will happen to you, Katrina. It’s written in the stars. Your fate was decided a long time ago. In 1695, to be specific.”
“You were part of the original coven,” Brom says to her. “You made the deal with the demon. You were there.”
“My dear Abraham,” she says walking toward him. He stands his ground as she puts the back of her hand against his cheek. “I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. I hated Leona and Ana with a passion. It was Margaret who agreed to the bargain with them. I never would have sacrificed one of my sons if I had the choice. But I had no choice. I am no match for a demon. For a god.”
“One of your…” Crane begins. “Are you Brom’s real mother?”
She gives Crane a tired look. “I have had many sons, Mr. Crane.” Then she sighs and gazes at Brom. “And Abraham is my last one. No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations,” she quotes.
“You’re quoting the Bible now?” Crane asks with a shake of his head.
She shrugs with one shoulder. “I thought it was a fitting name, given that he was the coven’s last chance to sire our immortality, the nations of witches. Little did I know that Sarah’s arrangement with Liam would fall through.”
“Just wait a minute,” Brom says. “Are you saying that my father is actually my brother?”
Sister Sophie’s eyes dance. “Your father is your uncle. He is Margaret’s son. And you wouldn’t even be in this predicament had Sarah married Liam like she was supposed to.”
“Technically he wouldn’t have been born,” Crane points out.
“So my mother was supposed to marry Liam, and they were supposed to have the child given to Goruun,” I say. “Is that correct?”
“Yes,” she says flatly. “But your mother is selfish. She chose your father because she wanted to use his energy to keep herself alive without our help. Liam and your mother should have birthed the child, it should have been Liam who was disposed of after the sacrifice, not my dear Abraham.”
I inhale sharply, and Brom’s eyes widen. “You’re planning to dispose of me?” he asks, as if he’s taking it personally.
“I’m not,” she says in a rush, her hands pressed against his chest. “I am trying to help you. You don’t have much time left before they put their plan into action. It’s imperative that you leave now while you still can. Leave the school, and leave Sleepy Hollow.”
“We can’t,” Crane says grimly. “Not with the horseman attached to him. The minute we’re gone, they’d know. We wouldn’t get very far, would we?”
She presses her pinched mouth together and shakes her head. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t kill Daniels,” Brom protests.
“I know you didn’t,” she says. “They called on the horseman last night to do their bidding, to get rid of Daniels for what he was about to do. They can call on the Hessian at any time. And until he is exorcised from you, he can call on you. You must complete a ritual to drive him from your soul.”
“We’ve been trying,” I tell her. “It didn’t work.”
“Blood magic and sex magic,” Crane divulges.
She thinks that over for a moment. “It needs to be under the full moon. In a body of water, so that at least part of you is submerged. The lake is a particularly potent nexus, and blood and sex magic are particularly good anchors. You might want an elixir of the veil to help open yourself to the spirits.”
