“I think so,” I tell her. “Scarlet, follow Ruby. She’s going to show you a safe place to take a nap, okay?” My hellhound barks in response and trots over to me, giving me a slobbery kiss on the cheek. “Good girl,” I tell her, patting her chest. Her bristly fur is covered in blood. “You were good tonight.”
Freya growls and races ahead. “Drama queen,” I grumble. “You all did good tonight.”
But we didn’t do well enough.
We lost tonight. I’m still standing, but Julian isn’t. We didn’t all make it out of this one alive, and the next time Paimon strikes, I won’t have an angel there to save me.
“The Academy is on lockdown,” Tabatha says. “All students in their dorms. Evander is overseeing everyone, and extra protection spells have been cast on the buildings.”
“Kristy,” I gasp. “She was working tonight.”
“I got a hold of her,” Lucas assures me. “She closed the store and was going to Nicole and Naomi’s house along the lake.”
“Did she make it?”
“Yes,” Tabatha says, but I’m not convinced.
“How do you know?”
“We’ve been in contact.” Tabatha wrings her hands. “Almost everyone else is here and accounted for. I summoned all those who were near to come to the Covenstead at once. And those who couldn’t get safely to the door were to go home and cast extra protective circles on their houses.”
That should bring me comfort—and it does, just a bit—but so many others weren’t so lucky. They weren’t able to be warned. They had no knowledge about demons and didn’t stand a chance at protecting themselves.
“How are we going to explain all the bodies?” My breath catches in my throat, and the sour taste of vomit is still fresh in my mouth.
“I’ll handle it,” Lucas presses. “Callie, my love, you’ve been through so much tonight. Worry about yourself and—” He cuts off, and I know he’s afraid to ask about the baby. “Worry about yourself.”
We get inside and go right to the infirmary. There are usually a few students in here at any given time, sick with the stomach flu or suffering a bad cold. With potions and teas, Sister Celeste is able to cure some aliments faster than average, though witches and warlocks are biologically human, and humans get sick.
“Oh, goodness,” she says when she sees both me and Lucas. “Sit her on a bed right away.”
Tabatha closes the infirmary doors behind us, and Lucas helps me onto the bed, picking my feet up and moving them for me. I’m shaking, which I hadn’t realized before.
It keeps replaying over and over in my mind: Julian stepping into the stone circle at the last second. The spell was complete, making whatever artifact Paimon had inside the black stone useless.
It should have been me.
I should have fought harder.
Pushed with everything I had.
We only had a few minutes to wait before the moon wasn’t in the right position and the spell wouldn’t have worked…I think.
Tabatha takes my shoes off, and Lucas sits on the edge of the bed next to me. His face is tight with worry, and he just takes my hand, not speaking. Sister Celeste looks me up and down, not sure where to start.
“What on earth happened?” She sets a leatherbound first-aid kit on the bedside table.
“Hell,” I whisper and pull my arms in close to my body. I want to get under the covers, but my body hurts too much to move. I don’t care that I’m covered in mud and blood. I close my eyes, jaw trembling, and squeeze Lucas’s hand.
Tabatha fills a bowl with warm water and starts gently washing the blood from my arms while Sister Celeste tends to the cut on my forehead.
“You’re quite banged up, that I can tell,” Sister Celeste says. “I’m equipped to handle that, but I’m worried about other injuries you received.” I can’t open my mouth without bursting into tears. I try and fail a few times.
“She was pushed and dragged multiple times,” Lucas tells her, words hard to say. He hates that he wasn’t able to protect me. “And spells were cast.”
“Mh-hm.” Sister Celeste presses an alcohol pad to the cut on my forehead. It stings, and the pain feels good.
Because I deserve it. Julian is dead because of me.
“When was the last time you felt the baby move?” she asks, and I open my eyes, slowly shaking my head.
“Um, before Paimon started the ritual. I, um, I don’t really know if she’s moved or not. I…I…”
“It’s okay,” she assures me and looks at Tabatha. “Can you summon the midwife, High Priestess?”
“Right away,” Tabatha says and sets the washcloth down.
Lucas puts his hand on my stomach, waiting to feel his daughter kick. She doesn’t, and he moves his hand lower.
“I can hear her heart beating.” His voice is calm again, anchoring me. He puts his head to my stomach, listening to our baby’s pulse. “It’s strong and steady.”