Trail of Dead (Scarlett Bernard #2)(84)

Mallory took a hobbling step back, admiring her handiwork. She looked at Olivia. “Good?” Olivia nodded, and Mallory checked her watch. “I’m going to begin,” she announced. Mallory hobbled away, toward her pentagram. I felt it when she tugged out of my radius.

The needle was in. The chemo had begun.

I was too stunned to make any kind of comment. Part of me had been counting on Jesse to burst in at the last second, shoot the bad guys, and somehow destroy the golem. That part just couldn’t believe it hadn’t happened.

They were really going to kill me. And then bring me back.

The possibility had honestly never occurred to me, and it was taking a long time to sink in. When I found out about the Old World, I thought I had guaranteed immunity from becoming a vampire or werewolf. Even when I’d learned Olivia was a vampire, I hadn’t really considered the implications. God, I was an idiot.

What would happen after? Best case, maybe I could escape from her, somehow, and go live with Molly again. We could be like morally questionable sisters, or something. But vampires had some sort of power over their progeny. Molly had hinted about it at some point, but I hadn’t asked more questions—it wasn’t like I would ever need to know personally, right? But what if Olivia could order me to do anything she wanted?

And even if she didn’t…I just didn’t want to be a vampire. I didn’t want to only live when the sun was down. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. And I would miss the beach, and running in the sunlight, and oh my God, food…

I struggled to get hold of myself. I had promised Jesse I would fight. I didn’t want to break my last promise as a human.

Olivia disappeared from my line of sight for a second, then returned pushing a wheelchair. She parked it next to the golem, put the brakes on, and settled herself into the chair, crossing her ankles demurely. We watched as Mallory puttered about her pentagram, reciting chants and sprinkling herbs around. She picked up something that had been resting on the book’s open page and hung it over her head. As she bent forward, I saw an ordinary-looking rock swinging back and forth on a leather thong.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Olivia sighed. When I didn’t answer, she looked over at my stunned expression. “Oh, relax,” she said dismissively, waving a hand. “It’ll probably take several doses before your aura dies. We’re not really sure, as I had already completed a number of treatments before the Domincydactl worked.” She added brightly, “But we’ll just keep trying until we figure out the formula. This clinic has all the equipment. That’s why I was so eager to get your treatment started, in case it takes us a few tries.” She patted my upper arm again, then frowned at my hair. “Of course, I’d hate for you to lose all that gorgeous hair, even if it does need a trim.” She smoothed her own dark bob. “I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t lose hair with chemo, of course, but I don’t know if you’ll be so fortunate.”

I searched for words, completely at a loss. Olivia’s plan, anyway, was clear to me now: she had threatened and scared and hurt my loved ones just enough so that when she called for me, I would come. Like a dog. Then she could turn me into her little vampire pet. But what the hell was Mallory doing?

Also, if I lost my hair from the chemo, would it grow back, or would I be a bald vampire?

“What,” I began, and had to swallow past my dry throat. “What is she doing?”

Olivia looked at me to see if I was being sincere, and she decided to answer me. “She’s completing a spell she began almost a decade ago,” Olivia whispered conspiratorially. “That was how we met. The spell failed the first time, and the golem she had at the time took most of the lightning strike for her.” Olivia gestured to her own face and chest. “It still managed to hit Mallory, though.”

I was beginning to feel a little woozy, but I was trying to tell myself I might just be tired and sore. I’d lost a reasonable amount of blood too, back at the bar. Maybe that was all I was feeling. “I don’t get it. If she was able to almost complete the spell the first time, why did you guys have to go for the big guns? The Transruah? The mandrake?”

Olivia gave me an approving look. “You have been doing your homework, haven’t you?” She stretched luxuriously in her chair. When I didn’t respond, she pouted a little. It wasn’t as much fun if I didn’t beg for it. “Mallory had help the first time,” she explained. “Another witch worked with her, someone of no consequence. I’m absolutely useless with magic, of course, so this time Mallory decided to get all her ducks in a row before she would make her move: the Transruah, the solstice, and the mandrake root, which she’s using now.” Olivia nodded toward Mallory and her herbs. “She doesn’t even need her golem, with all of that.” She patted my hand, saying warmly, “I’m so pleased that you get to be here for this.” Like we were at a brunch again.

“But why?” I asked, trying to keep my voice mild. I had to know what was behind all of this. All those deaths. “I mean, does this big spell even do anything?”

This was meant to taunt her a little, and it worked. She gave me another disapproving look. “Of course it does,” she said severely. She turned her focus back to the pentagram. Mallory was seated now, her cane abandoned outside the ring of candles. An enormous, tattered book sat open in front of her, and she was reading aloud from it. The Book of Mirrors. A good man had died just so that book could be in this room. “There are two parts, now,” Olivia whispered. “First she needs to restore herself, physically and magically. That’s what the mandrake is for, to gather life that she can channel into her own body.”