“We’re going to stop him,” Millie reminds us. “Jack, I mentioned blood magic earlier. To find him. To find the girls.”
“I don’t want to ask them,” I admit, but Miss Sophia’s head turns to me. She and Ruth sit by the fire, each making tea satchels. “They’ve been through a lot already because of me. I’d like to leave them out of this.”
“And in doing so, you’ll cut off a very powerful tool at your disposal,” Miss Sophia says. “Jackson, Oliver and Annabelle are a part of your journey in this. They’re tied to you, and I think it’s lovely that you want to keep them safe, but you have to remember that they’re the only parents you have. And they love you. If they can help, there’s nothing they won’t do.”
“That’s just it,” I say and stand to pace. “There’s nothing they won’t do. They’d give their lives for mine, and I won’t have that.”
“Of course, not,” Miss Sophia replies. “No one’s asking that of them. But I know they’ll help in any way they can.”
“Where are they?” Millie asks. “I’ve hardly even known they’re here.”
“They’ve been spending a lot of time researching on their own,” Ruth says. “Reading, meditating. Oliver is healing. They want to be as strong as possible for the battle to come. And they love you so much, Jackson. Give them the opportunity to help.”
I take a deep breath. “I’ll ask. We need to find the women, so I’ll ask. But we keep them safe. They don’t leave this house. That’s my line in the sand.”
“Sweet boy,” Miss Sophia says, cupping my face in her hands. “We won’t let anyone hurt Oliver and Annabelle.”
I nod and look over at Ruth. “Do you know where they are?”
“Last I saw them, they were enjoying the garden,” she says with a smile.
“I’ll be back.”
I walk through the house and out the back door. Sure enough, they’re sitting in the shade, each with a book in front of them, sipping some sweet tea.
“Well, hello there, darlin’,” Miss Annabelle says with a smile. “How did it go?”
“We didn’t find him.” I sit across from them and lean on the table. “He’s playing with us, and we’re running out of time to save those women.”
“How can we help?” Oliver asks without hesitation. He looks so much better than he did the day we brought him here. He’s healthy and whole now, no longer tormented.
And I plan to keep it that way.
“Miss Annabelle, I know you have the gift of blood magic. I know opening yourself up can be dangerous, and I don’t like to ask, but I’m going to. I think he’s in the bayou. It’s where he’s the most comfortable. But the bayou is big, and I need help narrowing down his location.”
“Of course,” she says. “I need a map and a sterilized and charmed dagger. I’m sure we can get those things.”
“Are you sure?” I reach over and take her hand. “We will do everything in our power to keep you safe. There are some pretty powerful witches in there.”
“I’ve been a witch for a long time, my boy,” she says with a soft smile. “I know what I’m about. I have you and Ollie here with me, my two loves. And my friends. I’ll be safe. Now, let’s go find those poor babies and get them home, shall we?”
* * *
Several hours later, we’re set up around the dining room table. Candles are set around the room, and a large map of the bayou, a dagger that’s been spelled with protections, and some other things I don’t quite understand, sit on the surface.
Lucien swirls his finger in the air, and all of the candles light, casting the room in shadows.
“So cool,” Daphne says with a grin. Lucien winks at her.
“I could learn to do that.” I narrow my eyes at Lucien. “You have your own girl.”
“That I do,” he says with a laugh and kisses Millie’s cheek.
Miss Sophia and Ruth flank Miss Annabelle, who lifts the dagger and begins to chant.
“North and south; east to west, blood to blood at my behest. Show the way, flying free, location found, so mote it be.”
Miss Annabelle holds up her hand and slices her palm, letting the blood fall on the map.
“Illuminate what we want to see. Lead us to those we must set free.”
The blood swirls around the map and separates into droplets, scattering over the page. I look up at Lucien, whose face is creased in confusion.
Finally, Miss Annabelle wiggles her fingers and whispers something in Latin. The blood lifts into the air and then settles into a small vial that she seals and sets aside.
Oliver takes her hand in his, closes his eyes, and the wound heals.
“It didn’t work,” Daphne says and looks at Miss Annabelle with grief. “Why didn’t it work?”