The Devouring Gray(85)

Violet believed him, or at least the rush of warmth in her chest did.

But they were three on fifteen. She didn’t know how that was possible.

And then, on the other side of the clearing, a flash of silver emerged from beneath a hooded figure’s robe.

A sword.

A moment later, the Church member closest to the figure was howling in pain, stumbling back into the woods.

The figure’s hood fell back, revealing a tangled mane of dark curls and a face filled with murderous rage.

Violet grinned.

Harper.

It didn’t matter that they couldn’t stand one another. They’d teamed up—to rescue her.

And if she was worth enough to these people for May to defy her family and return her memories, for Harper and Justin and Isaac to put aside years of hurt to come to her aid, then she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

The circle shifted uneasily, the chant weakening. Isaac took advantage of the moment to charge forward, his hands already beginning to glow.

“Hey, assholes!” he called out. “Come and get me!”

Violet shoved the ropes away from her torso. “The Beast wants something with my mom,” she murmured to Justin.

“I know.” Justin helped her to her feet. She could barely feel her limbs. “It wants to possess her permanently so it can escape the Gray.”

The thought was horrifying. “Like it’s been possessing me?”

Justin nodded. “So you figured it out.”

“Yes.”

Behind them, a scream rang out through the air—Isaac’s distraction had done its job. Harper’s silver sword flashed on the other side of the clearing, and two robed figures fell back, yelling with pain.

The singing was completely gone now; everything was chaos and screams. But the circle of bone was still intact, Stephen and Juniper at its center.

That was all that mattered now.

Violet caught sight of a flash of steel behind Justin’s shoulder. “Look out!”

Justin dodged the blow and jumped backward as a figure emerged in front of them, a knife in his hand. It was a boy Violet didn’t recognize, but Justin clearly did.

“Justin Hawthorne,” the boy said viciously. “I was hoping you’d show.”

Justin’s voice was clouded with resignation. “Brian Whitley. This won’t get you the revenge you want.”

Violet didn’t know how they knew each other, but as the boy brandished his knife, the defeat on Justin’s face was palpable.

“Leave them alone!” called out a voice from the other side of the fray. Brian Whitley charged toward the trees as Harper Carlisle appeared beside them, her sword gleaming in the moonlight.

“Traitor!” Brian cried at Harper as he fled into the forest.

“Traitor?” said Violet.

Harper and Justin exchanged a loaded glance.

“I’ll explain later,” Harper said softly. “You need to get to your mom.”

Violet’s eyes sought out the circle. Stephen was on his knees, his corpse crouching over her mother’s body. Every part of her was flooded with panic; but she would not let it overwhelm her. She could cry later. Now was the time to act.

But beside her, Justin nudged her elbow. “You might not have to.”

He gestured at Isaac, who was running toward the circle of bone. Violet shuddered with relief as he began to step over the line—but something sparked upward, like a firework, and he stumbled back.

“I can’t get in!” he called, panic lacing his voice.

Stephen Saunders’s hand slid into his robe. It emerged clutching a knife made of bleached, whittled bone.

Violet’s entire world narrowed to the blade as Stephen lowered it to her mother’s neck.

The Gray wasn’t letting anyone in. Which meant there was no way to stop Stephen.

No way, of course, unless your mind was somehow bound to the monster that lived inside it.

She bolted toward the circle, shoving away a figure who came at her with a knife. Maybe Justin was yelling in protest, and maybe Isaac was yelling, too. She didn’t care.

Because Juniper was her mother. And she would do anything, anything, to save her.

She leaped over the line of bone. And just as she’d known in her gut, just as she’d feared, it let her pass.



Violet landed in the Gray.

Bent-back trees with pulsing, ashen trunks. Dull, unmoving sky. A feeling like static in her chest. Already she felt like she couldn’t breathe. The Church and her friends were gone.

Juniper lay on the ground, still surrounded by bones. Stephen Saunders hovered above her. The ivory blade in his hand was as menacing and colorless as the world that stretched around her.

Violet lunged for the blade, wresting it from her uncle with no real resistance at all. She shuddered at the feeling of his dead hands on hers as she knelt beside Juniper, pressing two fingers to her neck. The thin, erratic pulse of Juniper’s heartbeat against Violet’s fingers was the sweetest thing Violet had ever felt.

She tipped her head up to Stephen, extending the knife he’d held just moments ago.

“Get away from us.” Violet shuddered as the words echoed through the dim landscape a second too late. The bond between them tugged at her again, but she ignored it as she gathered her mother into her arms. She half carried, half dragged her toward the edge of the circle.