Witch's Pyre (Worldwalker #3)(61)

Lily really looked at Juliet. She’d lost weight and there were dark circles under her eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked. “How’s school?”

“What school? I dropped out to take care of Mom.” Juliet rubbed a hand over her face. “Not that I could have stayed anyway, with reporters ambushing me outside of every class.”

“I ruined your life,” Lily said, shaking her head.

Juliet mustered a smile. “Didn’t you hear Mom?”

“It’s not my fault?” Lily guessed.

“Exactly.” Juliet glanced around the table, noticing the state of everyone. “You all look like hell,” she said, earning a round of rueful laughs. She turned to Breakfast, who was cradling one arm in his other hand. “What happened to you, Breakfast?”

“I got shot,” he said, showing them a large red-purple-and-blue welt on his arm. “The bullet didn’t go through, though. It sort of bounced off. But, you know, hard.”

“Why didn’t you get out of the way?” Una asked angrily.

Breakfast rolled his eyes. “I’m fond of the color ouch.”

Tristan hiked up his shirt to show Breakfast a nasty welt on his ribs. “Mine’s better,” he said, and then grimaced at the pain and dropped his shirt.

“That’s incredible. You’re all bulletproof?” Juliet asked.

“Not usually,” Rowan replied. He looked at Lily, eyes narrowed. “What did you do to us?”

Lily cupped both her hands in front of her and wiggled her fingers. “It’s like a field thing, you know?”

“No,” Rowan said, shaking his head.

“I mean a force field,” Lily said, feeling silly.

“Like in that movie Star Wars you made me watch?” Rowan asked, confused.

“That’s the Force. A force field is more Star Trek,” Breakfast corrected. “Big difference.”

“You did it to us before,” Una said. “It kept the Workers from stinging us when we fought the Hive. I’d say you’re getting better at it, though, Lil.”

“You’ve never seen that done?” Lily asked lightly, like it was no big deal.

“I taught you all I know about field magic,” Rowan said. “And I know it isn’t strong enough to repel bullets. You did something different. I felt it for a moment.”

“Well, it’s not actually field magic,” she said, backtracking. “Instead of just putting energy into your willstones, like making a deposit, I use them to transmute energy directly. You’re enveloped in a flow of energy that’s strong enough to repel bullets. For a little while, anyway.”

“You’re controlling our willstones?” Tristan asked uncomfortably. He shifted in his seat. “Are you controlling us when you do it?”

In the heat of battle, none of them had ever been able to tell the difference. It was such a subtle thing that Lily started to resent that line in the sand. So what if she had to possess them to do it? It had kept them alive.

“I only did it for a few moments when they were shooting at you.” Lily made an exasperated sound and turned to Rowan. “It’s the first thing you ever taught me. Remember how you had me heal my ankle through your willstone that first night I was in your world? Or when we fought the Woven in the cabin? I didn’t have a willstone then so I used yours to transmute the energy we needed. That’s all I’m doing.” She looked around at her coven’s unsettled faces, feeling defensive. “You’ve always known this, Rowan. When I have to, I can use any of my claimed’s willstone like I would use my own. Is it such a big deal I had to possess you for one second in order to save your lives?”

Lily overheard the whisper of his thoughts. I did this, he said to himself. His mouth went slack and he stared at her as a memory slipped through his head, unbidden.

. . . Tristan sits across from me, jealous and angry. Lily is still in my bed, and I know he thinks something happened between us. Something did happen. I let her claim me, and now I’ve given her willstones—the tools to become a true witch. I’m such an idiot. Why don’t I just start hanging people myself and get it over with?

“Whatever happened to keeping her out of your head?” Tristan asks me.

“I didn’t have any other choice,” I reply, glad that this conversation isn’t taking place in mindspeak. I did have another choice. I could have run and let her die. Why can’t I just let her go? “Believe me. I’m regretting it,” I say.

“What even gave you the idea?” Tristan asks.

He’s not angry anymore. He knows I’m sick. Afflicted. Addicted. Why is she the only woman I’ve ever been able to love? Something’s wrong with me.

“I thought about how she’d healed her ankle,” I say. “It was a long shot, but I figured she’d already transmuted energy inside herself using my stone, and it was only one step farther to then pour it back into me.”

“That’s one hell of a step, though.” Tristan looks scared. He should be. I am. His voice drops. “Do you think she could invade a stone? Take it over without permission . . .”

The memory flash ended and Lily found herself looking at a leaner, longer-haired version of the Rowan in the memory. One thing was the same, though. He was still scared of her.