Izzy was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a paper-back book in her hands. She didn’t look up when we came in, and I wondered what she was reading that had her so absorbed. Monster Killing for Beginners, probably.
Rachel HawkinsI turned to look at my quiet, bookish mother, a woman I had honestly never seen swat a fly. “I’m sorry, but there is no way you grew up here. It’s not even possible.”
There was a whirring sound, and I felt something pass by my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom’s hand go up, and suddenly she was holding the hilt of a knife-a knife that had apparently just been hurled at her head. The whole thing had happened in less than a second.
I swallowed. “Never mind.”
Mom didn’t say anything, but kept her gaze focused on Aislinn, who, I noticed, still had one hand slightly raised. She was smiling. “Grace was always the quickest of all of us,” she said, and I realized she was talking to me. Smiling at me.
“Okay,” I finally said. “Well, I didn’t get that from her, in case you’re wondering. I can’t even catch a football.”
Aislinn chuckled, even as Finley’s scowl deepened.
“So you’re the demon spawn,” Finley spit out.
“Finn!” Aislinn snapped. Huh. So at least one of the Brannicks hated me. Weirdly, that made me feel better. That was normal. And if there was one thing I knew how to deal with, it was Mean Girls.
“I actually go by Sophie.
Finn,” she protested. “I wasn’t laughing like, with her.” Izzy glowered at me. “She tried to kill me.”
“Actually, I didn’t,” I broke in. There was a hard look in Aislinn’s and Finley’s eyes that scared the heck out of me. The last thing I wanted was to be held responsible for Elodie’s actions, especially now that I was, technically, one of these women, and the words just came pouring out of my mouth. “See, I don’t have powers anymore, because I was supposed to go through the Removal, and that sort of locked my magic away so that I can’t use it. But there was this girl-well, this witch-Elodie, and because she passed her magic on to me when she died, we’re connected. That means her ghost follows me around and stuff, so when you attacked me, she possessed my body. Which is new and, quite frankly, super freaky, and something that I haven’t really processed yet. Anyway, she was the one who used magic on you. Oh, and held the sword to your throat, and said all that creepy stuff. I’m not creepy. At least not on purpose.”
By now, all three Brannick women-all four, if you counted Mom-were staring at me. Man, what had that piney-tasting stuff been? The Brannick version of Red Bull?
“I’ll, uh, stop talking now.
Okay, talk,” I said, once we were seated. “I wanna hear the whole story of how you went from Baby Brannick to Grace-Oh, wow.” I turned and looked at Mom. “Mercer is just a made-up name, isn’t it? You’re Grace Brannick.”
Mom looked a little embarrassed. “The night I ran away, the car that picked me up was a Mercedes. When the driver asked me my name, I…improvised.”
Names are just words. I know that. But learning that the last name I’d used all my life was fake…
“So what should I call myself, then?” I asked. “Sophie Atherton? Sophie Brannick?” Both sounded weird and made me feel like I was wearing clothes that didn’t fit.
Mom smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. “You can call yourself whatever you want.”
“Okay. Sophie Awesome Sparkle-Princess it is.
God, I was just six years older than you are now. That’s terrifying.” She raised her shoulder, nudging my head. “Please don’t make me a grandmother in six years, okay?”
I scoffed. “Trust me, after the Boy Issues I’ve had, I’m becoming a nun.”
“Well, that’s good to know.”
We stayed there, dangling our feet over the creek, talking, until the sun was high overhead. By the time we made our way back to the compound, I was feeling a little better. Sure, my life was still intensely screwed up, but at least I had some answers.
If it’s all the same to you, I’m not really great with the knives,” I told her. “Is there anything else I can do? Anything less…deadly?”
Shaking a pillow into its case, Aislinn shrugged and said, “You can go up to the War Room an check our files on Hecate Hall and the Casnoffs. See if there’s any information we have wrong, or details you can add.”
Ah, yes. Files. Books. Nothing with sharp edges. Perfect.
Ah, Grace and Aislinn arguing. It’s like old times again,” a male voice said, sounding vaguely muffled. “Could someone take this blasted thing off so that I can see?”
Once again, my magic was thumping and bumping inside me, so I knew whatever was speaking, it wasn’t human. Still, when Aislinn crossed over to the thing hanging on the wall and ripped down the canvas, I was taken aback by what I saw.
It wasn’t a painting after all; it was a mirror, reflecting the dingy, gloomy room. It was weird seeing the tableau we made. Mom stood with her hand still on my elbow, her expression wary. Aislinn was looking at the mirror with something like disgust, while Izzy had gone even paler, and Finley was scowling. As for me, I was shocked by my reflection. I was thinner than I remembered being, and my skin was dirty, tears leaving trails on my dusty cheeks. And the hair…you know what? Let’s not even go there.
But my looking like Little Orphan Sophie wasn’t what had my powers going nuts. It was the guy.
So this is the girl all the fuss is over,” he said, studying me. His voice was low, and I think he would’ve been hot if he weren’t radiating this air of “I Am Super Evil-No, Really-And Not In The Sexy Way.
Rachel HawkinsSo neither massive head injuries, nor finding out you’re a member of this family thirty freaking minutes ago-and therefore have very little experience handling weapons-gets you out of patrol?” I asked as I met Finley and Izzy by the backdoor.
After Aislinn had made her announcement, Mom had tried to argue on my behalf, saying that A) I was still processing the whole “being a Brannick” thing, and B) I had gone through a lot, so maybe I could use a nap. Or a snack.
Aislinn’s answer was to give me ten minutes to take a shower, some of Finley’s clothes, and a flask full of that Pine-Sol-tasting liquid.
I’m pretty sure decapitation wouldn’t get us out of patrol.”
I smiled, which earned me a glare from Finley. “I know it must be an adjustment after having faeries, or whatever, do your dirty work for you, but this is how we do things here,” she said, shoving a black backpack at me.
“Please. You must never have met a faerie if you think they do anything dirty,” I replied.
“We’ve met plenty of faeries,” Finley snapped, but her shoulders were up around her ears, and Izzy shot her a curious look. Whatever. I had enough family drama of my own to deal with. But then I reminded myself that technically, Izzy and Finley were my family. Demons on one side, Prodigium on the other. Was it any wonder I was so screwed up?
Finley turned to face the door, which was bolted with several different locks. I watched her spin the dial on two, open another with a key she wore around her neck, ad unhook a latch at the top.
“Man, I bet it takes you forever to get into your lockers,” I joked.
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