Chapter Twenty-Three

I was hot.

Then cold.

Only the dark stayed constant.

Like a weighted-down comforter pressing me into nothing.

Disorienting, but comfy in a weird way.

Smoke—or was it fog?—drifted through my brain until a breeze kicked up.

White light streamed from above.

Dead?

The brightness burned my eyes. When I lifted a hand to shield them, I knew I’d survived.

How? Where…

Seth.

My arms started to shake.

“Anise? Anise?” A blurry form appeared over me. “Someone find Jane.”

I tried to focus on the woman’s voice, but my eyes were milky.

“Calm down.” Gentle hands pressed my shoulders. A different voice. “Cupcake? Are you with us?”

Agatha.

I relaxed, feeling the pillow behind my head. Tubes, cold against my arms and legs. The steady beep, beep, beep of the hospital monitor. And a wall of warmth and power.

My eyes creaked open.

Agatha stood over me, her face lined deep with recent stress. Behind her, stood Blair with tears wet on her soot-streaked cheeks. Peggy’s voice echoed from the hallway as she berated the mass of gathered Servants.

I didn’t dare move yet, so I didn’t tilt my head, but I felt Wynn to my left. He’ll be furious.

He could glower all he wanted. It wouldn’t touch how mad I was at myself.

“Seth—” The sound ripped up my throat.

Agatha patted my arm. “We know.”

“Where—”

“He got away.” Blair pushed to the front of the crowd of Servants. “I’m so sorry. Now—” Her voice cracked.

My heart rate kicked up. Blair was sorry? For what?

“Anise…” Agatha let out a breath. “You nearly died.”

That was all? I relaxed into the bed.

I could’ve told them that.

“You would’ve died.” Peggy strode into the room, glaring at her daughter. “If Blair hadn’t already used her powers on you. She was able to sense you nearing death and hold you from crossing over.”

Yikes. Necromancy still wasn’t my favorite thing, but if it had saved my bacon, I wasn’t going to complain.

“There she is.” A nurse pushed through the growing crowd at my bedside before Peggy could continue. The woman wore lavender scrubs and her dark hair braided back and pinned. She looked so different than the past few times I’d seen her that it took me a second before I processed her face—high cheekbones and deep amber eyes. Jane from the Syndicate.

She was a nurse?

After checking the readings on my machines, she picked up my hand and closed her eyes. Her energy was white with hints of pale green—bud green. The cool touch of it instantly soothed my aches.

A nurse and a healer. I wasn’t surprised, but I was definitely grateful. I’d inhaled enough smoke that I should probably still be conked out or worse without magical help.

“Blair shielded you from any critical injuries, but you’re looking at a rough recovery.” Jane patted my hand before pulling back. “Between the necromancy and the warlock magic you were exposed to, your spirit took a beating.”

Speaking of shielded…

I finally glanced at the other side of the bed.

Wynn sat in the hospital chair.

Expression flat.

No glare. No scowl. His face was perfectly neutral and smooth, minus a little stubble. He had to be pissed, but he wouldn’t make eye contact. That made me more uneasy than if he’d reamed me out. I was waiting for someone to tell me this was my fault. That I should’ve put one and two together. If no one was even annoyed, there was nothing to distract from the guilt and shame simmering in the pit my stomach.

“Rest.” Jane’s energy flowed over me like warm milk.

My eyelids started to ease closed…

“No!” I jerked upright and pain flashed, but I gritted through. If I let myself be lulled, everyone would rush off to deal with Seth while I slept through the fight. “Let me help. Please. I don’t think you’ll be able to find him without me.”

“He won’t be able to hide from us now that we know his name.” Agatha gripped the rail at the side of my bed. “I’ve got a few things to say to that bastard.”

“No,” I said the word more firmly this time. “You need my help.”

Agatha’s eyebrow pulled up to her hairline. “What we need is for you to sit tight while we clean up this mess.”

“It doesn’t matter if we know who he is. You still can’t scry through his wards.” He was too much of a prodigy at them, even for the Syndicate. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to show his face in town, but he could hole up somewhere near the vortex and lure people in to make new Hands. Then he could keep attacking and attacking and we’d never find him. “We have to draw him out of hiding.”

“How would you do that?” Jane’s eyes had narrowed, already suspicious at what her patient was planning.

She wasn’t wrong to be suspicious. “If I play the bait—”

“No.” Wynn’s voice sliced through mine. He stood, knocking back the heavy hospital recliner, and loomed over me. Anger rolled off him in waves.

For once, I didn’t want to shrink back. The vein pulsing in his neck was oddly comforting. This was how Wynn was supposed to react.

I met his boiling gaze and didn’t flinch. “Seth wants me out of his way.” I gulped down a bubbling bit of shame. The how of it didn’t seem to matter. Whether I was dead or turned into one of his Hands, his whole agenda centered on hurting Agatha. I wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe he had genuinely wanted to work at the bakery and felt scorned? It didn’t really matter. Now he was a psycho and I was the perfect tool for getting his revenge. “He has to be furious that he lost me.” So, if he thought I was escaping for good, I was betting he’d try to stop me. “Now he thinks I’m beaten up and demoralized. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to leave town?”

I was beaten up—and whenever the painkillers and healing energies ran out I’d probably ache for days—but I wasn’t close to demoralized. Kicking myself, yes. An idiot, totally. That didn’t mean I’d run away. But if Seth thought so little of me, then he’d buy me fleeing town.

When he chased me, the Syndicate could grab him.

Agatha’s lips thinned as she considered. She turned to the other women. “What do you think?”

“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” Jane said. “If you’re discharged tomorrow, you still won’t be in great shape.”

“It’s better that way, isn’t it?” The frailer I looked, the easier a target I’d be—or so Seth would think.

My bed creaked as if Wynn was gripping the rail, but I didn’t turn back to him yet. Wynn wasn’t the person I needed to convince.

“The sooner we capture the warlock, the more damage we can contain.” Peggy drummed fingers against an arm, clearly thinking through the pros and cons. “I’m most concerned about the killing ground. If we don’t contain the warlock’s spirit, we could create more trouble.”

“That’s why my plan makes sense.” We had to lure Seth as far away from the vortex as possible. “I’ll grab a suitcase and pretend I’m flying home from Albuquerque. If you set a trap outside the canyon, I can draw him that way. Otherwise, we’ll be waiting around for him to attack with no way to control where he hits.” I’d had enough of waiting around doing nothing. Playing the bait would put me in danger again, but it was on my terms.

I wanted to take Seth down.

I had to, or I’d never forgive myself.

“Are you sure you’d be up to fighting him?” Jane asked.

“I’m sure.”

Jane turned to Agatha. “I leave the decision to you.”

“Cripes.” Agatha dug her fingers into her scalp. “We’ll do it your way, cupcake.” She whirled, heading for the door. “Join me, ladies? We’ve gotta make a few calls if we want this scheme set up for morning.”

Blair made no move to leave, but Peggy grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her from the room. She mouthed text you later as her mom dragged her away.

Jane nodded on her way out. “I’m on duty all night. Rest. No one will be able to hurt you in here.”

I sagged into my pillow, but I couldn’t relax yet. I still wasn’t alone.

Wynn gripped my bedrail with knuckles so white they looked like fists of bone. His T-shirt’s sleeve was torn, and his bandage from the last attack was gray with ash. He must’ve helped pulled me from the flames.

“Do you want to die?” He asked, voice unexpectedly soft.

Disturbingly soft. I considered pulling the blanket over my face, but then I’d have to move my IV wrist. “I don’t want to die.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” The bed frame creaked again. At this rate, Wynn would snap off the rail.

“I…misjudged Seth.” I’d only just started paying for that mistake.

A nurse popped in with a tray before Wynn could respond. She positioned the room’s rolling table over my lap and set down a covered plate. “It’s way past dinner, but Jane wants you to eat so you can take your healing brews on a full stomach. Don’t skip dessert.”

Any optimism I had left died when I lifted the lid. Limp egg noodles, a dish of withered lima beans, lumpy applesauce, and a hockey puck that was impersonating a brownie. A murky vial sat next to the juice box.

For the first time in my life, I really was considering skipping the brownie. I had no appetite and doubted I’d be able to choke down a bite while Wynn loomed.

Hoping to solve both problems at once, I lifted the spoon and applesauce and offered them to Wynn. “You have to be hungry.”

He made no move toward sustenance. But he really did have to be hungry. I couldn’t imagine he’d stopped for a snack between me being kidnapped and almost dying in a fire. I leaned forward enough to slip the spoon into the pocket of his jeans. His body was rigid with the same anger that showed in the flare of his nostrils.

If I could get him to eat the applesauce, he’d calm down. In my experience, apples and cinnamon canceled out most kinds of rage.

I considered dumping the sauce down his pants, but I’d already had more than enough contact with Wynn’s jeans. Cocking back my arm, I gave him plenty of warning before Frisbee-tossing the dish.

He caught it one-handed. A blob of sauce splashed onto his thumb. He switched the dish to his opposite hand before licking the finger and fixing me with a glare. “We’re going to talk about this.”

Wynn wanted to talk? With words? “Which this?”

He thunked into the bedside chair and crushed my expectations for the millionth time as he jammed aggressive spoonfuls of applesauce into his mouth. So he was hungry. Just more angry than hungry. I pushed a fork around in my noodles with no intention of eating them or speaking first. I wasn’t sure I could explain myself this time.

“My question.” The spoon clanged against the dish. “Do you want to die?”

“No.”

“You’re acting the opposite.” He bit the spoon and the sound of teeth on metal sent a shiver rolling down my spine.

I almost said am not, but then I’d sound like a toddler. “If I’d known Seth was th—”

“I’m talking about tomorrow. You volunteered to be bait for a warlock.”

That was what bothered him? I stabbed a noodle with my fork. “You weren’t there when he—” When he tried to take over my mind and body? My throat muscles contracted when I tried to say the words. “If I don’t do something, he’ll make more and more people into Hands. No one deserves that.” Seth would come after me again no matter what. At least this way, we had a chance to beat him.

Wynn slammed his empty applesauce dish so hard on the table that my juice box tipped. Someone isn’t won over.

I didn’t blame him, but I wasn’t giving in. I gripped my fork until the metal bit into my skin. “I’m sorry for making your job impossible, but I can’t back down this time. Seth is…” If not pure evil, then seriously deranged. I’d fallen into every trap he’d set, blinded by a stupid adoration that I really hoped had something to do with magical compulsion. Touching death had shaken off whatever spell he’d cast over me and all I wanted to do was make up for the past few days of stupid mistakes. I forced myself to hold eye contact with Wynn even if fingers of shame wanted me tilting my face to stare at the floor. “I hope you’ll help me, but if you won’t I’m still going tomorrow.”

Wynn bit off his words. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

The sentiment should’ve been comforting—I wouldn’t have to run into danger by myself—but somehow Wynn made it like a threat. Like he planned on following me to the bathroom and watching me sleep from now on. I flinched. “It’s not like I’m running anywhere.”

“No. You’re not.” He folded his arms across his chest.

I didn’t have the energy to argue. My eyelids kept slipping down, reminding me how much magic I’d spent. I’d need to sleep for a week if I survived tomorrow.

I will survive. I gripped my fork hard and forced myself to start eating. I needed as much energy as I could build up for tomorrow, and that meant downing the brew and grabbing some sleep.

The flavorless pasta fell straight to the bottom of my stomach. I choked down half my plate before calling it enough of a meal to take my medicine. Compared to the healing brew, the noodles tasted like ambrosia. It was so bitter that my eyes crossed.

While I was chugging juice, Agatha slipped back into the room. She gave a little nod, seeing the empty vial in front of me and cleared it away to set her phone on the bed table. A map was open on her screen.

“Here.” Agatha pinch-zoomed to the spot she’d pinned on the canyon road. “There’s roadwork blocking one of the lanes on the canyon road, so anyone who drives through will be slowed. We’re sending a few of the ladies down tonight to set the trap. You draw that little bastard to this spot and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“I’ll be ready.” The brew was already worming through my veins, lulling me to sleep as it healed. All I had to do tomorrow was drive. “As soon as I’m discharged, I’ll run back to grab my suitcase.” Seth would be watching. He must’ve been watching this whole time. Waiting for his chance to use me against Agatha.

The cocktail of shame, anger, and the bitter brew made my cheeks flush. This time, I wasn’t sitting out of the spellwork. I zoomed the map back out to the second pin, just a finger’s width away from the construction spot. “You’ll cast your ward here?”

Agatha nodded. “Sylvia’s heading down to clear the ground. Warlock or not, that boy won’t be able to stand against a full circle of thirteen.”

“Fourteen.” I wanted in this time.

Agatha took back her phone. “Thirteen.”

“But, he—” The words stuck again, and I knew my eyes were turning glassy. I blinked and looked down at my chest. I’d be kicking myself for a while either way, but if I could help take Seth down, it would numb some of the sting. “I want to help.”

“You’re helping. And you can sure as hell watch.” Agatha patted my knee through my blanket. “But thirteen’s the magic number for this type of binding. Don’t worry, cupcake. I’ll get enough revenge for us to share.”

I kept my mouth shut but crossed my fingers there’d be a chance to take a piece out of Seth myself.