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  Yeah, so…I hope Charlotte gets to see her dad. And I hope she appreciates it.

  Because one thing my parents would notice was if I didn’t come home. There was no way I could enjoy any of the fruits of my sacrifice.

  Flying didn’t agree with warlocks, so a car had been sent for me days ago, driving through the mountains and bringing me back to my childhood home, a Gilded Age mansion with three floors of furniture and paintings from the old world. It was one of those houses you could lose yourself in, full of things that had terrified and fascinated me and my sisters as kids: the 16th century painting of some ancestor who died at age 12 in the parlor, actual Renaissance furniture in the dining room, repaired whenever a piece broke by one of the only artisan furniture warlocks in the world, and in the family chapel, a box containing the bones of a witch who was either hung at a witch trial in Austria or killed in the Spanish Inquisition depending on which family member you asked.

  The house was given the rather harmless name of “Ladyswald”. It was built in the woods for the wife of my mother’s ancestor Thomas von Hapsburg. As a kid I just assumed everyone lived in huge houses full of creepy shit until I was sent off to boarding school and met other kids.

  It wasn’t long before I met Alec and Monty. We became fast friends, and I dreaded vacations. When I was at school I could be myself, but when I was home, my parents kept royal airs as if they still ruled something or other, even though the authority of magical royal families had started dissolving about the time of the Industrial Revolution. That was when magic really started losing some of its teeth.

  Still, we had money and we had power, and as long as my parents could hold onto it, inside of Ladyswald they could act however they wanted. My house had more of a dress code than school did. My parents had all the warmth of parents in an old British children’s book.

  It wasn’t so bad. At least they didn’t pry into my feelings about anything.

  “So, you have decided on Daisy,” my mother said, at dinner.

  “Oh good! I like Daisy,” said Helena, my favorite sister (fifth girl out of six, three years older than me).

  “I think I have, yes,” I said. “She just seems like the logical choice. When she steps into her grandmother’s shoes, she will be one of the most powerful witches in the world.”

  I could see Helena looking disappointed at me for not sounding more genuinely enthusiastic. She wanted Daisy and me to be happy.

  “Let’s hope she does,” my father said in a low voice.

  “She will,” my mother said. “She is an ambitious girl, despite her…unruly side. Well, it is hard when one’s parents are out of the picture.”

  “Daisy is very young to take on…such a role,” my father said. “How much longer is her grandmother going to live? She should have had a mother.”

  “Well, naturally, she should have had a mother,” my mother said. “That goes without saying. It’s very sad. Nevertheless, she will do it. Harris, has she ever given any indication that she would not?”

  “No,” I said. Which was true. But Daisy just never talked about the fact that when her grandmother died, her powers would be passed on. Daisy would become the great diviner of the North American continent. She would take on one of the most important jobs in the magical world: sensing out spots where the passage between worlds was still intact, and advising the councils as to where to send their witches and warlocks to protect them and keep them in the hands of the Ethereals.

  It was such a lonely, isolating job that it was hard to imagine Daisy doing it. I would likely work my way up the council ranks, but she would be spending most of her time in solitude and silence, peering into mirrors and pools, under heavy guard.

  I had this sense of dread when I thought about it, but she must have it even worse. Anyway, what mattered was that she would keep the power in her family, and be handsomely rewarded for it, while my family continued the tradition of marrying only the most powerful.

  “Now, is it true that you’ve still been hanging out with Monty Xarra?”

  “Well, it’s a small school and I can hardly tell Alec not to hang out with him,” I said.

  “He should never have been released,” my father said. “Vampires. When I was a kid, they wouldn’t have let any vampire attend Merlin.”

  “Treatments have improved a lot since you were a kid, Dad,” said Lucia, my oldest sister.

  “But he is immortal,” Mother said. “And touched by the Sinistral realm. His familiar is dead. He is not one of us.”

  “Here we go,” Annabelle said, stabbing her cauliflower.

  “What is that?” My mother looked at her sharply.

  “I said, here we go. You won’t even give Rex a chance. And you’ve known Monty since he was a little kid and now he’s shunned just because something bad happened to him.”

  “No one told him to go to Mexico,” Mother said.

  “It’s not like there are more vampires in Mexico than other places!” Annabelle yelled. “It could happen to anybody, anywhere! Listen to yourself.”

  “I’m sure he was drinking,” my father said. “In an unfamiliar place. Surrounded by regular mortals. It’s just not smart. He was weakened by all the tech and the plane ride and that’s why it was dangerous.”

  He’s still one of my best friends, I thought. I wanted to say so, but there wasn’t any point.

  I wondered what they were up to now. Monty, Alec, Charlotte…

  They were probably eating junk food and goofing off. I didn’t need that. Especially with all the flirting that was undoubtedly going on. Charlotte couldn’t even do my best friends the favor of picking one of them. They were both into her and she was stringing those poor bastards along.

  So why do I feel so damned jealous?

  “What’s really dangerous is the oppression we all live under,” Annabelle said.

  Yes. Thankfully, every large magical family seemed to have a rebellious child. Since Annabelle took that role in our family, she conveniently kept the heat off of the rest of us. Monty being my friend wasn’t nearly as bad as dating a demon. I ate my meal in some peace.

  The family butler, Emerson, walked into the room. “Pardon me,” he said, and then he whispered something in my father’s ear.

  My father’s eyes turned to me. Emerson whispered to my mother next.

  It wasn’t very often I got to see them drop the act. Almost made it worth it.

  “Ron and Dwayne!?” my mother cried.

  “You thought we wouldn’t find out?”

  “For that girl? The girl at Merlin? Harris, don’t you tell me that you—you—”

  My sisters all looked very curious, even sweet Helena. Having six older sisters was terrifying in moments like these. They could argue with each other like stray cats, but if I was on the chopping block, they formed a perfect union of, “Ooh.” “What?” “Girl?” “I think her name is Charlotte.” “She’s in his dorm.” “Really?” “What happened?”

  “Emerson, remove Harris’ presents from underneath the tree,” my mother said.

  Yep. I should have stayed at Merlin.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Charlotte

  We reached my house pretty late in the evening. Luckily my family never went to bed early on Christmas Eve. I saw lights on inside, and outside, Dad had done up the works. As if to compensate for my absence, the yard was loaded with an inflatable dragon, an inflatable snowman, lights all over the trees, candy canes lining the walk, one of those things that makes colored lights spin over the entire house, plus a roof Santa.

  “This is fucking awesome,” Montague said.

  “It’s going to make us sick,” Alec said.

  “Live a little,” Montague said, elbowing him.

  A second later, Dad threw open the door, holding a hunting rifle since I’m sure he didn’t recognize the car and it was this big, black, nondescript thing.

  “Oh, crap,” I said. “Heyyy, welcome to Georgia. I guess I should have warned him I was coming.” I t
hrew open the door the second the car stopped moving.

  “Dad! It’s me!”

  “Charlotte? What? I thought you had to stay at your school!”

  “Well, things changed.” I sprang out of the car and we hugged each other tight. It felt so good to hug my dad. Even though he seemed smaller than I remembered, as if the world had gotten bigger while I was gone. “Um…but I had to bring two boys from school with me. They’re going to hang out here to make sure no weird magical stuff happens.” I didn’t even mention the bodyguards, who had agreed to go park themselves in Firian’s cabin.

  Firian was just behind me, I realized. He had been dutifully staying out of the way lately, but now he materialized out of the shadows. He had some wrapped presents in his hands.

  “Aw, man,” I said, in a small voice. I didn’t have presents for anyone.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said.

  “Two…other boys?” Dad said.

  “Yes. Just classmates. They’re nice.”

  Alec and Montague were already getting out of the car, which drove away.

  Dad looked like he was trying to wrap his head around his precious little baby girl hanging out with…that. “Boys?” he repeated. “Those don’t look like boys to me,” he said under his breath.

  “They’re freshmen,” I said. “Like me. I mean, you know the deal. It’s a boys’ school.”

  “I told your grandmother you were at the University of Georgia.”

  “So…I can make male friends there.”

  “Look at them!” he said, his voice getting the raccoons-in-the-trash pitch again while he gestured with his rifle.

  I put my hand on his arm. “Dad! You are the one who lectured me about gun safety and I never even wanted to touch your guns! It’s cool.”

  I mean, I hoped it was cool. But I wasn’t really sure if I was more worried what my grandmother would think of the guys, or how much she would embarrass me around three guys I liked. Did I mention Grandma was loud? She had the enthusiasm of a reality show competition judge, the adherence to rules of a drill sergeant, and all of her cooking was either delicious and very bad for you, or out of some horrifying 50s cookbook nightmare (and still very bad for you).

  At this moment she came bursting out of the screen door. “Oh my word! Charlotte! Charlotte! How did you get here?” She hugged me tight. Her body was comfortingly Pillsbury Doughboy-like. It only took her about two seconds to change gears. “Now what is all this? Who are these boys?”

  “See, I told you they were boys,” I told Dad.

  “Mrs. Byrne. It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Firian said, glancing at my dad.

  “These are my friends from college, Grandma,” I said. “Firian, Alec, and Montague.”

  “Oh my god, you’re all so handsome! Look at you boys, I tell you, if I had had boys like that in high school—! Well, your grandpa would’ve really had to hustle.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Montague said, taking her hand. “Thank you for having us for Christmas, and so late.”

  “Your…skin is…cold.” Grandma looked at Montague and for a moment she looked dazed. “You’re such a gentleman.” I was afraid my Grandma was about to have a Bella Swan moment with Montague, and he looked a little…hungry. Maybe the car ride was too long. Alec pinched him and he blinked, and then she slapped his hand a few times. “We’ve gotta warm you boys up! Come on in. I’ll reheat the dinner.”

  I gave them a little grin of relief. “We’re in.”

  Grandma shoved some dishes in the oven, other things in the microwave, and put out a few scary bowls of Jello and mayonnaise based things while Dad turned on the radio so it was playing Christmas music and hustled up air mattresses. Montague went to use the bathroom; I’m pretty sure he was just drinking blood in there. Alec edged away from the microwave. Thank goodness my grandmother had never been very astute.

  “This is like the good old days,” Montague said, returning. “Remember when we used to go to the mall?”

  “Yeah,” Alec said. “I couldn’t believe it the first time you took me there.”

  “Y’all don’t have a mall?” Grandma said.

  “We just study so hard,” I said. “And Alec comes from…uh…nowheresville.” I suddenly noticed Firian was eating the terrifying gelatin encased salad thing. This thing wasn’t kidding around. I shot him an incredulous look. He pointed at it like, Not bad.

  “Is this what foxes eat? You should be ashamed of yourself,” I whispered to him while Grandma was making a clatter getting out silverware and plates.

  “Hey, Mom,” Dad said, putting a hand on Grandma’s back. “Why don’t I take care of this? You should get some sleep.”

  “Are you saying I’m old?”

  “You were just saying your ankles were swollen. What do I take from that? Tomorrow’s Christmas. Gotta wake up early now that Charlotte’s here.”

  “Oh, all right.” She gave me an embarrassingly loud smack on the cheek. “And you boys be good.”

  Dad escorted her to her bedroom like he was making sure she was locked away, and then he came back with this tense look on his face. He gave me a weary smile. “You’re all…warlocks?”

  “Yes, sir,” Montague said. “We share a dorm with your daughter and have been watching over her. Some are not as gallant as those of us in Lancelot House, but rest assured—she will come to no harm with us.”

  “Do you have an accent suddenly?” I asked him.

  “Well, I trust Firian,” Dad said.

  “As you should,” Firian said, as if he hadn’t grabbed my wrists and told me I was his and damn the consequences.

  Dad took a pan of Grandma’s delicious, warm macaroni and cheese bake out of the oven, the crumb topping browned, the thick layer of cheddar peering out just beneath, promising that while I might have to take a laxative later, it would be so worth it. There were also some leftovers of Dad’s famous homemade barbecue ribs. Oh Sweet Baby Ray Jesus, this was all the Christmas present I needed.

  “Before you eat a bite,” Dad said, “I want the truth out of you.”

  “Whut,” I said, horrified. “Um…what truth do you mean?” Can I lie to my Dad’s face? I made a quick calculation and realized the answer was probably no.

  “I need to know what is going on with your mom,” he said. He had this look like he’d been holding in anguish for the last seventeen years. “You—someone—must know something. Why would a witch turn to…darkness? Leave her family? Everything was fine. The week before she left, we took you to the zoo.”

  “Dad—“ I swallowed a sudden lump of anguish and then sniffed. “Damnit, this is a high price to pay even for ribs and macaroni and cheese… I don’t really know anything, except that Mom was close to her cousin Samuel, and he wanted me to go to Merlin College, and he was killed. Dean Blair promised me more answers at first, but…then he kinda dropped it. I think they’re hiding something from me. I just don’t know. Let’s sit down…”

  He plunked down the food.

  “Mr. Byrne,” Alec said.

  “You can just call me Evan.”

  “Sinistrals and Ethereals have been locked into a struggle since the beginning of time,” Alec said. “One group is always trying to get power from the other. It’s gotten much worse as the world gets more industrialized, because magic has been weakened. There is less to go around. I was born because my father was attacked by a Sinistral. She drew magic from him by seducing him. I was an accident and she didn’t want to take care of me. She gave me back to my dad and we never saw her again.” I had never heard calm Alec have such an edge to his voice. “What she did to him was just…total shit. Some Sinistral might have taken advantage of your wife. I’m sure it wasn’t her fault. It is easier if there’s something she really wanted. Something she might have done anything to get. Did she ever mention anything like that?”

  “She…always regretted the rift in her family,” Dad said. “Emily’s mother was a witch who fell in love with a—a pack of werewolves.”
He looked at me. “I still don’t know how to talk about this.”

  “A pack of werewolves?”

  “Werewolves often mate in packs,” Montague said. “It’s actually not uncommon among a lot of the magical non-humans because they look for humans whose magic they can use to help keep the gates between worlds open.”

  “Wait—like—my grandmother had more than one lover at the same time?” My cheeks flamed as I looked away from the guys.

  “So I’m told,” Dad said, coughing. He suddenly started spooning out the food. “Everyone, take some. Go on. While it’s hot.”

  Despite the crazy stuff going on in my head, the food was still delicious and I ate a couple big bites. I’d read some stuff about the gates between worlds in my studies of magical history and literature. While witches aligned themselves with either Etherium or Sinistral, the worlds had many native denizens, like Firian and other familiars. They were a little like demons and angels, or any other good or wicked spirit. Ethereals and Sinistrals from the other worlds gained power from the human world, specifically from humans believing in them or worshipping them. But the gates had been slowly closing off as humans became less likely to blindly believe in fairies, spirits and gods.

  “So if demons mate with a human as a group, the human helps keep the gate open?”

  “Yeah,” Alec said. “But witches and warlocks don’t count. We’re already between worlds. So that pack of werewolves must’ve just been into your grandmother.”

  “I—think so,” Dad said. “Your grandmother was hot stuff from what I’m told. The werewolves had a rock band together, you know, back in the 60s.”

  “Wait—my grandparents had a rock band? Were they famous?”

  “A little…at the time. The Wild Eyed Boys. You heard of them?”

  “No,” I said, disappointed. “Still, they were a real band?”

  “Lots of Sinistrals and Ethereals are artists,” Alec said. “That’s one way they gain power to counteract the sickness of modern life. Otherworlders are more susceptible to those sicknesses than warlocks…” He looked pale and I knew this was hitting him right in the moment. My house was loaded with electricity.