Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)(106)

“What are you looking for, Baz!”

I wheel on her, pushing her off. “The tape recorder you gave me in fifth year!”

“Why would I give you a tape recorder? That’s a shit gift.”

Of course she doesn’t remember. Of course she doesn’t. “The one you gave me to steal Simon’s voice!” I yell.

Fiona puts her hand on her forehead. “Ohhhhhhhhh, the tape recorder.

Fuck, that took a lot of magic—and it didn’t even work.”

“It worked.”

“Mmm.” She clicks her tongue. “Don’t think so. Your man was just here, and I heard him talk.”

“It stole a girl’s voice, remember? Philippa Stainton’s.”

“Philippa Stainton … She’s not one of ours, is she?”

“FUCK!” I shout, kicking Fiona’s bong. It shatters. “Just—where is it!”

She laughs. “Where’s a tape recorder I gave you ten years ago?”

“It was five years ago.”

“Well, I don’t know, what did you do with it, Baz?”

“I gave it back to you, Fiona!”

She shrugs. “What was I supposed to do with some girl’s voice?”

“Why…” I fall back against the wall, leaning over and holding my stomach. I think I’m going to be sick. “Why did you ever give it to me…”

“You know why—it was meant for Simon.”

“I didn’t know what it would do to him!”

“You knew we were at war!”

I look up at her. “He was fifteen, Fiona…”

“And the Mage was already using him against us!”

“I was fifteen, too!”

“Yeah, and you were five when they killed your mother!” She puts her hands on her hips and her tongue in her cheek and laughs one cold syllable: “Hnnh. Don’t try to make me feel guilty about this … We were at war.”

“I wasn’t at war, I was at school.”

“You wanted to help.”

“I wanted to make you happy, I wanted to be a good Pitch! Whatever that means…”

“You know what it means, Basil. You always have, even when you were small. I could always trust you to keep an eye on the Mage.”

“Fiona…” I’m holding my head now. “Anything I said when I was ten was just me parroting your words back to you. I wasn’t being a good soldier or a good spy; I just wanted your attention!”

She shakes her head. “I don’t feel bad about giving you that tape recorder; do you want me to feel bad?”

“Yes!” I stand up. “I stole an innocent girl’s voice! She lost her magic!”

“Shit happens, Baz!”

“I happened, Fiona! I’m the shit!”

“Well, I’m not sorry!” she shouts.

“You should be!” I scream back. “I was a child, and you used me!”

“And it fucking worked—it was children who brought down the Mage!”

“It was Simon who brought down the Mage! And it wouldn’t have happened if I’d stolen his voice…” I kick at a pile of clothes.

There’s nothing here. Not for me.

I leave Fiona in her room.

Nico is still sitting on the sofa. He jerks to his feet when I come in.

I snort. As if I’m going to open that box right now, the one labelled, My fuckup vampire-hunter aunt is hooking up with a vampire fuckup. No, thank you. I have enough on my plate.

I’m not a child anymore.

Fiona doesn’t get to tell me what it means to be a good Pitch.

I don’t think I care.





61

PENELOPE

The tattoos are gone.

Shepard holds out his arms, and I run my fingertips up the inside of one forearm. They’re gone.

“Penelope…” he says. “You did it.”

I did it. Shepard isn’t going to hell … At least not that version of it.

“Penelope!” Shepard sounds a little delirious. He picks me up and spins me around. “You did it!”

“I mean”—I hold on to his shoulders—“you did help. ”

“You’re an absolute madwoman! You summoned a demon in your living room. You’re an entire crazy train!”

I frown down at him. “I wouldn’t say crazy … I had a plan.”

“A crazy plan.” He sets me down, still holding me. “What if it hadn’t worked?”

“I was pretty sure it was going to work.”

“Yeah, but it might not have…”

I shake his shoulders. “Stop second-guessing me, Shepard! The proof is in the pudding.”

“You’re the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, kissing me.

“You’re an F5, easily. Maybe an F6.”

I let him kiss me. I like it when he kisses me. “We broke the curse…” I murmur.

“You broke the contract,” he says.

“It was never valid.”

He pulls away, grinning down at me. “Should I be hurt that you got me out of this by convincing that demon that I was more trouble than I’m worth?”