The Price Guide to the Occult(56)
In a fury, Fern grabbed Nor by the hair, yanked her head to the side, and tried to slit Nor’s throat. Blood spurted instead from a wound that opened on her own neck. With an angry shriek, Fern lunged at Nor and scratched her with talon-like nails until her own cheeks were covered in gruesome claw marks. She brought her teeth down on Nor’s shoulder, and a bite mark appeared on her own. Fern stabbed at Nor with the knife again and again until, exhausted and blood-soaked, she fell to the ground.
Nor almost tripped over her mother as she scrambled back toward Gage.
Catriona moved to help Fern, but Fern swatted her away, leaving three red welts on Catriona’s arm. “Take them downstairs with the others,” she ordered. She coughed and spit a blackened tooth into her hand. “Go!” she sputtered.
Nor let herself be hauled away. Fern’s blood continued to spread across the floor.
Catriona dragged Gage and Nor deep into the entrails of the hotel, passing through one darkened hallway after another. Gage cradled his injured hand. Catriona raked her jagged nails across the graffitied stone walls as they walked, eyeing Nor suspiciously all the while.
Mutely, Catriona pointed them down a winding stairwell. The scarf wrapped around her face slipped momentarily, and before she could adjust it, Nor caught a glimpse of what Catriona had really been hiding behind that veil: Fern had cut out her tongue.
Nor closed her eyes in horror. Was there anything Fern hadn’t taken from this girl? Was there anything Catriona wouldn’t give Fern? Nor wondered if there was any point in trying to appeal to the Catriona she once knew. That person had probably been erased long ago.
The stairs ended at a long, dark grotto littered with hollow wine barrels and broken bottles. She recognized this place from her dreams. She was almost certain that if she looked down, she’d see Bliss Sweeney’s blood staining the stone floor.
The only light in the grotto came from the tiniest sliver of moon shining through a small window high above their heads.
A blue blur darted out from one of the shadowy corners and threw itself at Nor.
“I knew you’d come!” Savvy cried. “Didn’t I say they would, Sena Crowe?”
“Yup.” Sena Crowe was slumped against the back wall of the alcove. He had a nasty cut on his face.
Nor hugged Savvy. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“If by okay you mean will I have nightmares for the rest of my life and will I need loads of therapy to function in normal society, then yeah.” Savvy smiled. “Never better.”
“What is this place?”
“Pretty sure it was the wine-tasting cellar,” Savvy answered. She kicked at a few empty bottles, and they rolled across the floor with a loud clatter. “Please tell me you have a plan for getting us out of here. Sena Crowe is far too pretty to die in a wine cellar turned torture chamber.”
“No one’s going to die,” Gage said.
But, as if on cue, the ground trembled again. Nor stumbled and grabbed at Gage’s hand to steady herself. The moment their hands touched, she felt a sharp zap like an electric shock. Nor quickly pulled her hand away, but smoke poured from her fingertips, and the bones in Gage’s hand were mended.
The ground stopped shaking. Gage flexed his newly healed fingers.
“We don’t have a plan,” she murmured.
“Did we ever? I’m guessing the only plan you had,” he countered quietly, “was offering yourself up as a sacrifice in the hope that she’d let the rest of us go.”
Nor smiled in spite of herself. “I guess it wasn’t a great plan,” she admitted.
“It was a terrible plan,” he agreed. “It also didn’t account for one very important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That I wouldn’t let you do that,” he said softly. “I can’t risk losing you.” Gage cleared his throat, and if it weren’t so dark, Nor was certain she’d see his face turning red. “What I mean by that,” he was quick to clarify, “is that none of us can.”
Again the floor swayed beneath their feet. Empty wine bottles rolled from one end of the room to the other. “Unfortunately,” Gage said, “there’s a pretty good chance the only defense that we’ve got left against your mother is you.”
The ground continued to shake sporadically throughout the night. Water dripped steadily down the walls. A shallow pool of water skimmed the floor. Next to her Savvy shivered and huddled closer to Nor for warmth.
Through the moon’s faint light, Nor could just make out the hazy outline of Savvy’s profile, the ethereal glow of her unraveling blue braids. Someone else shifted uncomfortably on the floor, but no one had said much of anything for a while. Either a disquieting resignation had settled over the room, or perhaps they’d simply fallen asleep.
Nor thought of her mother’s malicious ferns. How easily they could hurt Savvy and Sena Crowe and even Gage. But they hadn’t been able to hurt Nor.
And apparently neither could Fern.
If Gage was right — if she was the last line of defense between Fern and everyone else — she still didn’t know how that would help her protect them. When it came to her mother, she’d only just discovered that she could protect herself.
Nor hadn’t thought it possible to fall asleep in that cold, dark room, but she must have because the next time she opened her eyes it was to the shrill sound of voices and the pounding of frantic running overhead. A cascade of water spilled down one of the walls; it bubbled up between the cracks in the stone floor. A man was leaning over her, his face obscured by the flashlight he shined in her eyes.